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#all calico cats are female
tucbilo · 11 months
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Calico cat from Poznyan
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dthmet · 9 months
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What if we were both catboys and mercenaries… haha… jk…
Unless??
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petcatandkitten · 4 months
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What makes a calico cat special?
It's a common misconception that calico cats are female, even though the term actually describes a color pattern rather than a specific breed of cat. In this article, we will examine the characteristics of calico cats, breeds that can have calico colors, and the reasons why there aren't fewer male calico cats. Read Here...
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I think theres a stray Binah where i live. Animal control wont help. What can I do? Im certain the Binah isnt feral since she'll get close to people without doing anything but. Help.
Well, she's yours now, anon. Binahs are surprisingly easy to take care of if you're willing to play with her, just make sure to give her black tea over water as straight water makes Binahs sick. If you think she could belong to someone in the neighborhood, put up found posters. That's all.
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petanimalscare01 · 2 years
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Are male calico cats valuable?
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Are male calico cats valuable?
How rare is a male dilute calico cat?
How much money is a male calico cat worth?
How rare are male calico cats?
What gender is rare for a calico cat?
What happens if a calico cat is male?
How much is a dilute calico cat worth?
Are male calico cats rare?
What is the rarest color of cat?
What causes a dilute calico?
Can boy cats have 3 colors?
How much is a boy calico cat worth?
Can a normal male calico cats exist?
Can a male cat have 3 colors?
Are all 3 colored cats female?
What is the rarest cat?
Why are 99% of calico cats female?
Is it possible to have a male calico cat?
Why is it rare to have a male calico cat?
Can male cats have 3 colors?
How much are male calicos worth?
Are dilute calicos rare?
How much does a dilute calico cat cost?
How big do dilute calicos get?
What makes a cat dilute?
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dollhousemary · 2 years
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pet peeves are awful because they’re almost always so irrational and the anger i feel is so disproportionate that i immediately feel really guilty
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fourthapprentice · 2 months
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had to stop myself from going “um actually-“ on the previous post because, genetically speaking, only one of those kittens can be female depending on the color the father was
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forsworned · 3 months
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˗ˏˋcrazy cat lady ft. poly!tf141ˎˊ˗
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꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ something about simon and cats is just really pullin at my heart strings tn, for @chamomiletealeaf bc she wanted more :)
꒰warning(s)suggested polyship, fluff꒱
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋrequests are openˎˊ˗
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"God, not again."
Simon groaned, as he caught her feeding the alley cats. That piqued Johnny's interest as he walked into the living room area where Simon was standing. He peeked over his shoulder and saw her open a can of tuna-salmon wet food and tipped it into the bowls that she "sneakily" set outside. The alley cats all surprisingly patient as they sat with tails tucked around their forms.
"Well 'll be damned, she's got 'em trained." Kyle's voice interjected, making Johnny jump a little but his grin grew as he folded his arms. Simon only shook his head.
"Ahh, how sweet." Price popped his head in and his gaze was tender as he laid his eyes on her. His once furrowed brows relaxed at the sight of her petting one of the cats heads' as it headbutted her palm and let her glide over its spine to the tip of its tail. Another rubbing itself against her thigh and a third prancing around her as it lightly brushed its black, bushy tail around her waist.
"Jus' admit it, L.t., 's cute." Johnny nudged Simon with a good natured grin. Simon leered at him for a moment before returning his attention to witness her gawking up at them doe-eyed and caught redhanded. Her lips curled into a charming, girlish grin that was enough to make any mans heart stop. She raised her hand to wave at them and they all chuckled, peering down at her with endearing expressions, well, minus Simon.
He felt his temple twitch as he attempted to glare at her, but even he wasn't impervious to her invisible shackles that she placed around his wrists years ago. His jaw ticked as he walked away from the window, leaving the guys behind to adore her coquettish behaviorisms, mumbling something about her being a 'crazy cat lady'.
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"C'mere, y'lil cunt."
He growled, at the skittish calico kitten that refused to come out from behind the rubbish bin. He was growing more impatient by the moment, cursing himself for not having more of a natural disney princess touch the way [name] did with animals, specifically felines. A sharp exhale leaves his nose as he palmed his face. It had been fifteen freakin' minutes since he had decided to walk out in the chilly February night air with a can of cat food to lure out one of the kitties that he had saw her feeding earlier. Frustrating was simply an understatement.
A girlish giggle was heard behind him and his body went rigid.
Bloody fuckin' hell.
"Feedin' that damn cat again, weren't ya?" She mimicked his deep, gravelly Manchester accent. As atrocious as it was, he couldn't help but chuckle at her impersonation of him.
"Startin' to sound like a cunt, aren't I?" He retorted. It was a pleasant, lighthearted banter. She chuckled as she crouched beside his towering figure, and made a kissing noise while rubbing his fingers together at the calico and the kitty meowed in delight as she* trotted over to her and welcomed her pets.
*calicos are almost always female
"You gotta make yourself less menacing, Si. Crouch." It was a gentle command as she continued to lovingly stroke the cat. He sighed as he mimicked her position and glanced over at her to wait for her next instruction. "Go on."
She urged him to repeat her exact gestures. He surveyed the way the calico rubbed against her in envy. She could feel his green little monster eyes on her and it made her lips twitch into a smug smile. "Don't got all night, Si."
He narrowed his eyes at her before--reluctantly--repeating her kissing noises and rubbing motion with his fingers at the calico and she meows at him and quickly rushes over to his hand. Simon's eyes immediately softened at the contact. Warm, pure and loving. There was nothing like the little gesture of a kitten welcoming little pets on the forehead as they rubbed their fluffy cheeks against his fingers, down their spine to the tip of their tail. A relieved sigh emitted from his lips and [name] giggled.
He peered up at her for a moment before looking back down to see a black kitten had joined their little party around the opposite side of his leg, rubbing its pink nose against his thigh. Although it was remarkably menial, Simon's mask had arched upwards, indicating that he was indeed smiling. Another chuckle escaped from her as she relished in the rare sight. Simon petting alley cats he was always complaining about to the guys that [name] would bring around due to her sweet-natured behavior that wouldn't allow her heart to just let these animals to just be restive pests that ransacked their waste bins? Unheard of.
"They're just like you." She mused, as she continued to pet the calico. She laughed knowing that he was raising a curious brow at her, waiting for her to continue before she spoke up again. "Skittish as hell."
A short silence.
"Thinkin' they were more like you." He spoke up, still petting the black kitten. She turned to him waiting for a irascible remark, but he peered up at her with a tender gaze as he lifted his free hand to gently pinch her cheek. "Cute as hell."
Her eyes reamed at his words and his adoring touch. Her heart soared in her chest and she couldn't help the way her lips simpered and the way her cheeks warmed pleasantly. A syrupy sweet moment that she was already etching into her brain, and Kyle was capturing forever in his phone as Price and Johnny snickered, beholding the saccharine and cushy side of Simon that came out more and more around her.
"Send this to me." Johnny crowed, with a wolfish grin.
"Ditto." Price bit back his low chuckle but it slipped when he saw the way [name] leaned her head against Simon's shoulder and he didn't even take a beat before he carded his fingers though her hair.
"Fuckin' hell." Kyle's shoulder's were shaking as he muffled the pure joy running through his system. It was indeed a sight for sore eyes.
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merakiui · 4 months
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100%
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yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, pregnancy, implied baby-trapping, captivity, very vague and slight implications of codependency, angst note - your mobile phone was at 100% when he took you away. with time, the percentage has diminished. so, too, does your hope for a brighter future.
The windowpane is spattered with rain.
Sitting cozy in a cushioned alcove, you watch the droplets slide down in regal rivulets, consolidating to form single streaks. The scenery beyond the window is bleak and dreary—a despondent landscape of gnarled, leafless trees and scratchy brambles stretching towards a dark, dismal sky. Sometimes you liken the rain to tears, wondering if Mother Nature weeps for all creatures or simply for you and your situation. Rare are the days in which the sun shines upon the craggy stone façade of your captor’s castle, and she is as benevolent as she is cruel.
For all of its sumptuous splendor, generational wealth filling the interior with priceless heirlooms and relics, it is an empty, cold structure. You’ve taken to enveloping yourself in thick furs, if only because these furs do not speak like the monster who so humbly offers his embrace. Though you’ve always considered yourself of strong, sturdy mind, your restraint is thinning. As the days pass and you shed clothing sizes like they’re second skins, you find yourself drawn to warmth.
Which is, ironically enough, contradictory to your current temperament. The windows, frigid like the grave, provide solace you cannot find anywhere else—for it is only tender warmth you receive from him. Had he not been so merciful, perhaps it would have been easier to shrink away and truly loathe him with every ounce of your being.
And yet, in order to escape the warmth which enshrouds, you seek the cold, bitter windows and their rain-weary countenance.
Lying beside you on the pillows, snoozing the afternoon away, a calico cat snores idly. She was a gift from him. You were neglectful of your mental health and thus, as per his guard’s suggestion, he sought to find a cat to cure your loneliness and inspire some form of happiness. You appreciate Silver—genuinely, you do—but the good luck a calico brings is not nearly enough to rescue you from captivity.
She was a stray, a scrawny thing with a limp and one bad eye. You took to her right away, scooping her up in your arms and lovingly naming her Cotton. Similarly, she returned your affections, rubbing her head against your palm and purring pleasantly.
Now she likes to nudge the dome that is your stomach, a great, round thing at only six months. Sometimes you think she’s more motherly than you are. You’ve never been able to care for much of anything. Plants wither under your touch, recipes spoil even when you follow them to the letter, and your electronics crack.
Your phone, more fractured than your very heart, is cold in your hands. The screen is blank; it’s dying. It was at 100% before. Now it’s been reduced to a sad 7%. There is no reception or connection to be had in Briar Valley. Your phone, once so powerful and all-knowing, is but a hollow shell. Useless. A digital photo album will expire at its final hour, and there’s no charger. He offered to use his magic to charge it, but he has never known his own strength and you couldn’t risk losing the treasured memories stored within.
Sometimes you’d return to old message logs and read through them. Now you can’t do that, lest you drain the battery quicker than intended.
“So this is where you’ve retreated,” Malleus notes, poking his head around the corner of a towering bookcase. Concern settles on his features. “Are you well? Sebek tells me you were absent for breakfast.” “I wasn’t hungry,” you mutter, watching his reflection through the stormy glass.
Malleus glances at Cotton and then at your phone as it rests in your clasp. “May I trouble you to eat just a little, if only some fruit?”
“I’m not hungry.” He nods, stalling. “Will you join me for lunch?”
“If I must.”
A small smile lifts his lips. “Are you cold? It can’t be very comfortable to sit there for such a long time. You’ll catch your death.”
“I hope.”
He tuts in disapproval and shrugs out of his cloak, draping it over you even though you’re already wearing a fleece robe. Malleus assesses you with a fleeting once-over.
“It doesn’t hurt to layer. You must understand where I’m coming from, dearest. Extreme temperatures serve to weaken those who are already so fragile.”
“I’m not fragile,” you snap, turning to scowl.
He doesn’t flinch at the heat smoldering in your eyes. “You’re human.”
“How many times did you have to practice that to come to terms with it?”
Malleus’s verdant stare narrows; his frown tightens. “It’s the truth.”
“I didn’t think you’d confront it.”
“I must if I’m to understand…” He exhales through his nose, deflating somewhat. “You’re in fine health. The physician tells me so. There’s no need to worry ourselves with ineffectual what-ifs.”
You turn your gaze on the sprawling forest next, unwilling to discuss the report and its subsequent conclusion: If she remains in good health and follows the recommended diet for an expecting mother, she’ll carry to term.
“My phone is dying, Malleus.”
“Is that not life? Lilia once said so.”
“My pictures… My everything is stored in this phone. It means so much to me.”
“Truly? Is there not a way to make physical copies of these photographs?”
“Unless Briar Valley has the technology to do so…”
“I’m afraid not.”
Malleus takes a daring step closer, endeavoring to comfort you. Cotton cracks her good eye open to peer at him. She hisses low in her throat, a protector standing small against something so tall. Pouting, clearly disheartened, Malleus heeds her warning and chooses to linger just within the bounds she deems acceptable.
“Yeah, that’s what I assumed.”
You heave a dejected sigh, your shoulders drooping. Seeking to cleanse your visual palate, you power the device on. 5% blinks back at you, an insignificant number sitting in a corner that you normally wouldn’t have paid much mind to. Now it weighs heavy, a reminder that the end is encroaching.
“I would’ve liked to keep these photos forever,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Malleus hums his acknowledgement; you think he knows the feeling—or some variant of it, at least. “If I lose these pictures…”
“Do you not have memories?”
“I do, but it isn’t the same. One day I’ll grow old and my memory will be frail. I won’t remember nearly as much as I do now. Those memories will become ghosts and eventually I’ll—”
“You will not.” There’s a finality to the declaration—you won’t leave me; you won’t drain or die like this mobile device.
You rest your head against the window. The cool glass soothes your soul. I wonder what the others are up to right now… You place your hand upon your belly. I wonder if they’d have any good ideas for a name. I’m terrible at naming things. I can never pick something that feels right.
“I’d like to have a funeral for my phone.”
But maybe there is no right thing.
“Of course,” he agrees, perfectly serious. You will have that phone funeral, just as you will have every other request you make—however patently absurd it may seem. (Every other request except for freedom, of course.) “Materials may not have the same worth as a loved one, but the experiences they provide are just as valuable. Surely, no? Otherwise I would not feel so troubled when Roaring Drago…” Pausing to search for the placeholder, Malleus glances at your phone. “Perhaps there is no greater tragedy than existence itself.”
“It’s the most bittersweet burden,” you echo, scrolling through each picture with wistful remembrance. “But then I’d rather know the fleeting frivolity of life than endure hundreds of years of solitude. It makes me appreciate everything that much more.”
You stop at a picture of you and Malleus, a photo snapped by Lilia himself. Part of you often wonders why he chose you—why he adores you to such a degree when you, like everyone else, will inevitably perish. But therein lies the allure: That which is unobtainable is even more tempting. And because there is only one of you, a human destined to one day return to her home world, your very presence is more fleeting than a dream.
To Malleus, who has always dreamt, fond and fervent, of the unobtainable mundanity of normal life, you are a sweet, tangible blessing.
“Horns, do you think I’ll ever get another chance to have my phone at 100%?”
He softens under the nickname. It means more to him than his lofty station. “Would you like to know that joy?”
“It would be nice, yes, but then I’d just get sad when it reaches zero. I guess I should be grateful it’s stayed alive for this long. Sorry, it’s a stupid question. Just forget it.”
“Nonsense. There is no such thing.” He reaches to touch your cheek, but Cotton hisses again and so he refrains. She stands on unsteady legs and climbs into your lap, perching awkwardly in spite of your rounded belly. The sight draws a deep chuckle from him. “Your feline friend is quite taken with you.”
“It’s probably because I’m warm. She likes my belly a lot.”
“As do I.”
You roll your eyes.
“Your beauty is most beguiling. There’s a certain radiance to your person. It’s very charming. Do you not agree?”
“Flattery will get you nowhere—definitely not in Cotton’s good graces.”
“I’m simply voicing a fact.”
Your hand slides down from your stomach to pat Cotton. She purrs under your touch, and a weak approximation of a smile tugs at your lips. Amidst all of this sorrow, she is a glimmer of hope. In a way, she’s like you—a stray without a place in this world, snatched from the cobbles she once wandered and confined in a cage of royal opulence. Your similarities are striking, if not immensely devastating.
“Fact or not, I don’t care if I look pretty. It means nothing to me.”
“To be impartial towards appearances… Quite a noble mindset.”
I never once thought you were scary or strange, Horns. Even now.
You look at your phone once more. 3% flickers back.
You’re just lost, and in being lost you found me. But I was also lost. I never even belonged in this world to begin with…
“I’m not going to be a good mother.”
“You can’t know that.” 
“I can’t even take care of myself.”
“I shall care for you when you find yourself unable to.”
“I’d rather you not.”
With Cotton having curled on your lap, slumbering peacefully, Malleus chances to close the gap. His broad frame leans to make up for the difference in height, and he runs cold fingers along your cheek. He brushes away the tears you weren’t even aware you were shedding.
You grip your phone in shaky hands, your shoulders hunched. There’s a piercing ache in your chest, pain stabbing all the way through to your heart. It persists when you power it off, unable to delight in pictorial reminiscence for a moment longer. Silent like death, you sob; seismic dismay shudders through you in waves. Distantly, in a forgotten corner of your brain, you suspect this may be the last time you’ll ever use your phone. The last time you’ll ever look upon the photos you’ve amassed. Photos of friends, class notes, food. Photos snapped by mistake, blurry and unfocused. Photos taken when Ace and Grim stole your phone. Precious memories are preserved within the permanence of a photo album—an album that only remains everlasting so long as you keep your phone charged.
Your final shred of the world beyond Briar Valley vanishes in a blip, leaving you with the dark void that is an empty screen. Brutal is the agony, contorting your face, and you bawl like you’ve just witnessed the end of a life.
In a way, you have. You held it in the palm of your hands, and you watched it wither. Watched the percentages drop through numbers, double digits easing into singles. Watched every week and tried to spare your beloved phone of its fate. Watched and attempted to stall the impossible—a foolish undertaking. This was inevitable; you knew this, and yet you’re still mourning.
Perhaps that is the most tragic facet of existence. From the moment one is born, they are mourning. Humans mourn losing time—of allowing it to slip through their fingers when they should have put it to better use. Humans mourn aging even though it is celebrated yearly. Humans mourn for things that are inhuman—for robots stuck in an endless cycle of some menial task while gears grow rusted and systems shut down or trapped on a distant planet, never to return home. For the fruit that falls from trees and rots, trampled and forgotten. For the endings, good and bad, of novels. For art that will never see the light of day because it has been destroyed or stolen or silenced. For the friends they meet, have met, and will meet.
You mourn because you know it’s impending, and you spend all of your life coming to terms with it, only to break down when it finally happens because the truth of the matter is that you will never be prepared no matter how much you prepare yourself. You mourn because you’re a complex human with complex emotions, surviving in a complex world with millions of intricacies, and the only way to weather misery is to mourn.
To the little life cradled in your womb, who knows not of these difficulties yet, they cannot fathom the anguish that accompanies loss. And right now that is all you can hope for—a life without loss.
But that is impossible because loss is true to everyone’s experience. It is part of existence, and existence is inescapable.
Malleus does not gather you in his arms. He will do so if you ask, and he knows you want to ask, which is precisely why he waits. But you’re stubborn and you refuse to give in to the temptation, let alone grant him the satisfaction. It doesn’t offend him.
The windowpane is spattered with rain. So, too, is your phone, spotted with tears and snot.
Briefly, you wonder if you still look beautiful to Malleus.
Even at your ugliest, he would still cherish you. Desperately, as if he might lose you.
Knowing this does not soften the gutting grief.
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veveisveryuncool · 2 months
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kine is based off mola mola sunfish, which are about 6ft in size!!therefore i raise you: mola mola sunbathing party!! (+ the slightly more realistic animal friends :DD)
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OKAY i did a lot of research on animals for this one!! feel free to read my notes under the cut 👇
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kine: is a mola mola/ocean sunfish, specifically from pacific waters! i'm in love with the idea of this six foot behemoth next to all the tiny creatures of dreamland, and as someone with a crippling obsession with fish, i had to draw him :] pacific mola molas match the distinctive petal-shaped clauvus (not a caudal fin!) that kine has, but don't have a lot of iconic lip action, which is why i tried to make it seem like a... discolored snout? molas are typically one color, and the blue color could seem natural from an angle, so let's pretend that real!kine just has lots of cool barnacles.
coo: is taken from @starflungwaddledee's dusky eagle owl notes! they literally look so much like coo it's insanee + i added the stripes to his wings. finding the bird-to-cartoon ratio was kinda hard actually 😭 birds are hard to draw what
rick: is based on a golden hamster (aka syrian hamster)!!! he's exactly the type of hamster you think of when you think of a normal hamster. golden hamsters are technically one of the largest hamsters, but still only stand at about 7 inches— so i decided to use his cartoon logic to keep him somewhat relative to coo
chuchu: SHE'S A FLAPJACK OCTOPUS SHE'S LITERALLY A FLAPJACK OCTOPUS!!!! scientists actually wanted to name the species "adorabilis" and just look them up please they're so cute!!! you can tell that DL3 character designers had flapjack octopi on their minds when they designed her. their fins look similar to a bow, and i obviously couldn't get rid of that, so i gave her both :]]
nago: is a calico cat. he's not overly cartoonish in his game design in regards to how he looks as a cat— he is undeniably a cat. i let my middle school warrior cats obsession take over for that one. calicos are almost always female, so i also raise you trans nago 🫶
pitch: resembles a warbling white eye, according to wikirby. i tend to draw him similar to one anyways, thanks to adeleine's slightly more realistic drawings in the DL3 credits. he's definitely also been sized up to fit in with the rest of the cast, since a 4-inch bird wouldn't exactly be visible.
thanks for listening to my rambles about animals!! i tried to keep a good mix between realism and video game designs just for kicks and giggles, hopefully it doesn't fall into a weird uncanny valley haha :] ✌️
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wc-confessions · 8 days
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wtf is "intersex" and why are people shouting that certain cats (or sometimes ALL CATS??) are it???? Is this a gender thing that I'm ignorant of? Cuz that's cool I'd be happy to learn- but google says intersex relates to the actual physical body parts, and I'm just- Why do people care about this??????
Gender is one thing- affirming that shit correctly is SUPER important and I love the different hc's and interpretations there in ALL fandoms tbh, not just wc. But the actual physical body parts- how is that relevant. Why does anyone care. What are you using that info for. Why are people thinking about different body parts for these cats????.... Like why does a calico like Redtail HAVE to be intersex- does that mean something OTHER than Redtail having both male and female body parts??????? AND WHY IS THAT IN MY HEAD. I've never heard of an intersex pet cat in reality, even after working at the vet, is this just a genetics thing????
Like sure being able to have children can sometimes distinguish a character in terms of whether they will adopt or carry kits- but otherwise... why do people care what's swinging between the legs? What value is that info? Are these people DRAWING GENITALS OR SOMETHING??????
(Sorry if this ask is kinda iffy. I 100% understand if this ask gets deleted)
male calico cats are all considered intersex. the calico coat pattern is directly linked to two x chromosomes, which is why most calicos are usually female. male calicos have the xxy chromosomes which makes them intersex. redtail is intersex.
-mod ashensky
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amber-tortoiseshell · 11 months
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Male tortoiseshells
Tumblr loves male tortoiseshells, right?
It's common knowledge (...i think?) that's tortoiseshell cats are almost always females. (Here and everywhere else i use the word "tortoiseshell" in its broadest meaning: it includes all kind of calicos and torbies.) The reason of this is that the red color's gene is located on the X chromosome, so if a cat is both red and not red (in other words it's a tortie), it needs two different X chromosomes: one with the red (O), one with the black (o) allele.
Generally there are two ways to get a male tortoiseshell: he can be a chimera, or or he can have atypical number of sex chromosomes.
Chimeras are the fusion of two or more embryos thus they can have cells with different genotypes: they can be longhaired and shorthaired at the same time, have both diluted and undiluted area in their furs, or... be black and red in patches. They are generally fertile and pass the colors that their gonads (testicles or ovaries) carry, which is not necessirely the same as they show.
The normal number of sex chromosomes are two; for males an X and an Y. If a cat has two Xs and an Y, it'll be male, but it can carry both the O and the o alleles. Of course, an XXY male can easily have two red or two black alleles, and be a seemingly normal red or black cat. But they are typically infertile regardless of their color.
Let's see some male tortoiseshells!
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Dawntreader Texas Calboy
Yeah, he's quite tumblr-famous, maybe you've seen that one post about him. He's a black tortoiseshell blotched tabby with white, a chimera and fertile; on his facebook page you can see several of his children. He has both black and red daughters, which means he can produces gametes from both of his cell lines.
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Unfortunately I coudn't find his name, but in this picture the back right kitten is also a male tortoiseshell. Specifically, he's a black smoke karpati tortoiseshell with white and dominant blue eyes. (His breeder seems to like experimenting with new things.) More pictures and videos in his owner's facebook posts (it's possible that you have to join the group to see it): newborn kitten kitten young adult
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Sherpa Cats Beyond Heaven
Beside red and black he also seems to mix pointed and not pointed. (Note the dark red cheeks and the light brown legs of a black colorpoint.) When tested, he consistently showed the results of multiple cats.
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Ezra
He is red with a few black patches, and tufts of long hair. His owner tested him and the lab found both XX (female) and XY (male) cells, so he definitely is a chimera. I find his differently colored eyes especially cool!
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Brady
Black tortoiseshell tabby with white, and for once not a chimera: according to the tests he has three sex chromosomes, XXY.
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peachywritess · 1 year
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happiness looks good on you ー knj
☁️ genre: long-term lovers, estabilished relationship, fluff, kind of domestic!au, namjoon being a supportive husband.
☁️ pairings: husband!kim namjoon x artist!female!reader
☁️ warnings: there aren't any, just joonie being husband material, use of pet names such as jagiya, baby, love.
☁️ word count: 1,7k
☁️ author's note: just a small little thing i had in mind, not my best but i really liked writing this, i hope you like it bubs!!<3
Feedbacks are welcomed !
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The brush plopped into the water jar, and a few drops of coloured liquid spilt on the wooden surface. Some ended up on your phone which lit up, the lock screen displaying your favourite picture: you and Namjoon holding a white teddy bear he had won at an amusement park. You remembered that day clearly: it was your first anniversary.
You had captured the moment with a polaroid camera Namjoon had bought as a gift, and you still hadn’t figured out how it worked so the shot came out far too bright. However, looking at that picture years later still brought a sense of warmth and nostalgia: you were both so young, inexperienced, and still seeking to understand each other. Seven years had passed since that day, and so many things had happened: your trip to Bali, rescuing two calico cats and naming them Zelda and Esme, your tour of Europe, and then your marriage.
Your house was full of memories and pictures from your numerous adventures like the one in the Italian Alps where you were too scared to cross a suspended bridge, and Namjoon had to carry you for more than a mile. Or the one in the french Blue Coast when he had mistaken tanning oil for sunscreen so you both had pretty bad sunburns for the entire week.
“I told you to buy sunscreen, Joonie - sunscreen!”
“It is! See, huile de bronzage.” He had panicked showing you the little brown bottle.
“It literally means tanning oil, Namjoon Kim!”
A smile shone on your lips ー reminiscing all of the wonderful memories you had made together. You missed his buzz cut, and how his short hair used to tingle your palms: when you were younger, Namjoon let you dye it in different colours. One time, you had opted for pretty pink flowers, and the dye had stayed on for months.
You loved that he couldn't give a damn about other people's judgement - in fact - he would always brag to his hyungs how talented his girlfriend was. Surely, he would let you know.
"Jagiya, you are so talented. Please dye my hair forever!"
You had majored in arts whereas Namjoon had chosen to open up a travel agency. Initially, it was not easy for either of you: you had only each other's support and getting through the month was always difficult.
Namjoon stayed out late to advertise his shop, but despite this he would always stay up all night watching you finalise one of your paintings, making sure to bring you a glass of water about every half hour because "it's important to stay hydrated when you are working hard."
He would try his best to stay awake by telling you about his day, showering you with compliments and then attempting to analyse what you were painting. You would quietly listen to him, some mhmh's and mhh's in response and occasionally interrupt his chatter to tell him to get some rest. Yet each time he reiterated the same phrase: 'I'll stay awake as long as you do, love'.
And so within minutes he would fall asleep on the couch and you would bring a blanket and a pillow for him to be comfortable.
But now, his hair had grown out and you had practically lost the sparks you usually felt when you painted. Finishing a canvas was now something you had to do - and really didn't enjoy at all.
“You have one month, Y/N. Then I will shred the contract to pieces, understood?”
You listened in silence as your boss complained over the phone, her voice a few octaves higher.
“I mean, what happened to you? Do you think I pay lazy and unmotivated people? Our company seeks talent and commitment, and I’m afraid you no longer have any of these requirements.”
You sharply inhaled pinching the bridge of your nose, back resting against the chair as Namjoon stood right behind you, he too in silence. His hands were placed on your shoulders, which he stroked softly.
“I understand, Mrs Han. I am working on a piece at the moment, and I swear that it will be done in less than a month-” 
You took all of your courage to speak - that woman truly scared you. Ms Han was the director of the agency you worked for, whose aim was to sell artwork at a premium price. She was a fifty-year-old woman with a passion for belittling her employees and underpaying them.
“No more promises, I don’t care. I just want that piece at the end of this month.” She interrupted you, and you sighed.
Just know that this is your last chance.”
And just like that she hung up, leaving you lost in a limbo of disbelief and terror: you could not afford to lose this job. 
Yes, it probably wasn't the best job on the planet, but you hadn't yet realised your dream of opening your own atelier, and this company - although not particularly ethical - was a sure ticket to gaining a small amount of notoriety in the industry.
“Wow, what a bitch.” Namjoon proclaimed breaking the silence and bringing a small smile to your lips. 
“Damn right she is.”
You groaned, squinting your eyes shut, before running your hands down your face - in a gesture of sheer exasperation. “I could end her whole career if I wanted to.”
“Then do that, baby. You have nothing to lose, she does.”
You let your head fall back, resting it on the chair, finally meeting your boyfriend's gaze. He was smiling, and his dimples looked so adorable you wanted to squeeze his cheeks.
“Um, probably my job, Joonie?”
“Yeah, that’s a good point.”
Namjoon leaned forward until you were close enough to look directly into his eyes, then left a soft kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes, savouring that brief moment of tranquillity. His attention then shifted to the canvas in front of you - a few lines of red paint already starting to dry up - and observed it thoroughly without saying a word.
"Do you remember when you accepted the job offer?" He questioned.
"Mhmh, what about it?"
"And do you also remember what you told me?"
You bit your lower lip, scratching your chin with your index finger.
You had said a million, no, a billion things to Namjoon before you signed that contract.
"Um, wish me luck?" You said in a slightly questioning tone, and your husband facepalmed.
With a swift movement, he turned the chair you were sitting on allowing you to look him directly in the eyes. That gesture made you blush and you stared at him with doe eyes.
"No, jagi, not the correct answer." He tilted his head, soft jet-black locks brushing his forehead. "You promised me you wouldn't let them change you."
You were struggling, and that broke his heart.
Namjoon knew you were desperately trying to paint something, anything that would please your boss. He had examined the shift in your brushstrokes from time to time, and they didn’t seem to belong to you. They were abrupt and quick, whereas you always directed them with gentle movements.
He was not seeing you on that canvas, instead, he was seeing a version you had been forced to become.
"Is it worth it, love? Do you want to become a machine for them to make more money?"
You sighed. He was right ー Namjoon was so right.
You had completely forgotten how it felt to make art, you had forgotten how it felt to be free. You had submitted to their rules because they had made empty promises from the start and you had believed them.
Namjoon crouched down, resting his hands on your knees. In that position, the light coming from the window illuminated his face as you gazed at him with pure admiration. He was glowing.
His brown eyes seemed to light up, turning a honey-like amber colour.
"Joonie..." You murmured as your hands gently grabbed his. "I can't lose this job, I just cannot."
"Y/N, you are the best thing to ever happen to me, you know that right?"
His thumbs softly rubbed the back of your hands, something he always did to comfort you. As he stroked he gently drew imaginary shapes like circles, flowers or hearts.
You hummed in response locking eyes with him.
"That's why I want the best for you. I want you to be happy because I can't bear the thought of you ever suffering. And what I truly wish for, is for you to find your love for art again, and-"
"Baby..."
"I don't want you to feel obligated because I swear to you Y/N, I will always support you no matter what," he then grabbed both your hands in his, and brought them to his lips. "but I wish you just left this job."
You smiled when Namjoon placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles. Despite all these years, he had never changed: he was still the same old romantic and you couldn't complain.
"I know, Joonie, but what if I can't find anything? What if... I don't make enough money to open the atelier?"
Namjoon lightly squeezed your hands, his eyes never leaving yours as one hand cupped your cheek, delicately caressing it.
"Jagiya, you are the most talented woman I've ever known, and you can do whatever you wish to do. You inspire me every day."
"I wouldn't even know where to start." You relaxed in his touch, letting out a breath.
The warmth of his hand unexpectedly left your cheek, and that's when you saw him searching for something in the pocket of his jeans.
"Perhaps, you could start with these."
You blinked quickly observing the object your husband was holding before your eyes. You raised your eyebrows in confusion, not understanding why he was showing you a pair of rusty keys.
Then, a wave of realisation hit you.
Namjoon immediately noticed your eyes turning glazy and your mouth opening slightly in an expression of pure wonder. You grabbed the keys with trembling hands and clutched them to your chest, heart racing.
"The place is a bit run down, but I am sure that in a few months, we will manage to make it perfect."
Without wasting a second you threw your arms around his neck, and tears of happiness fell from your eyes. You couldn't believe it: your dream had just come true.
"I love you so much, Joon, I- I can't believe it. I love you!"
Namjoon stroked your hair, unable to resist tearing up with you, holding you close to him. At that moment, all he wished was for time to stand still and remain like that forever.
"I love you too, princess."
Happiness looked so good on you.
©️ peachywritess 2023. All rights reserved.
Please consider reblogging my works if you like them! <3
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thedo0zyslider · 3 months
Text
Martyn is...not very happy with how things have turned out thus far. Things with him personally, he means. The game has been relatively normal so far, expect for a few more purple symbols than usual that is.
Currently, Martyn is curled up in the Big Dogs Shack, hiding in bed like a child. It's for a very good reason, part of him thinks so anyways. The rest of thinks it's a pretty stupid one, and that he's too old for all this....this shit he would do as a teenager. But here he is anyways.
Against his will, his tail flicks in agitation again. Martyn groans and buries his head into the pillow. He had a new stupid tail and new stupid ears that just seemed to have a mind of their own! He doesn't want to a damn cat! He's a Big Dog, for gods sake!
Well, it's not that he doesn’t want to be a cat. He quite likes the animals, and he's a cat person at the end of the day. It's just.....They'd made him into a calico cat. The species that is, for the most part, female. And Martyn has been away from all that stuff for a while. He's been done transitioning for years now, so why'd They have to make him a blummin' calico cat!? They know how sensitive he is about it! (Or at least, he thinks they do...) Buncha jerks...
He turns in the bed again, just as the door creakes open. It seems the other Big Dog has entered their base. Martyn knows it's Jimmy, because his friends footsteps are familiar to him as breathing is. And also he's the only one it could be, realistically.
"Martyn! There you are!" Jimmy says, his footsteps growing closer to the bed. Much to Martyn’s dread. "I've been looking-"
The blonde knows he will have to force himself up with a sigh, because of he doesn't, the canary will just do it for him. So Martyn sits up, turning to face his old friend, able to feel his ears flattened against his skull already. "....Hi Tim."
"I was gonna ask why you were hiding but...I think I know why." Jimmy mumbles, taking a few hesitant steps closer. His wings are pressed tightly to his back, and his whole body language is one of caution. It's nice, that's he's being all considerate.
"Obvious innit it." Marytn huffs, his ally sitting down on the bed next to him. He shakes the covers off himself, properly revealing the tail as well. Jimmy’s eyes flick towards it, and his eyes widened with something. He thinks it's a new understanding of the situation.
"You scared to go outside now?" The canary asks, shuffling closer. Martyn let's him, until their shoulders are touching. The touch is comforting, something he kinda needs in the moment.
"Yes!" He groans, burying his head into Jimmy’s chest. The other just lets out a huff, and removes him, so they can have this conversation face to face. "What if someone-"
"You really think anyone here is gonna be like that?" Jimmy asks, raising an eyebrow. And Martyn has to be really off his game, for Tim to be the smart one here. Its usually the other way around in these scenarios. "Besides, four of us already know."
"I know. Sorry." He sighs, running a hand through his hair; which had gotten a little messy during all the flopping around he'd just done. "Old habits I guess."
"It's fine." Jimmy smiled earnestly, reaching out a hand. He gave an experimental scratch behind Martyn's ears, and the other couldn't help but lean into it. He didn’t want to lean into it, that was an instinctual thing! The blonde still didn't want to be a cat, and never would be.
"I knew that would work!" The canary smiled, looking stupidly pleased with himself. Martyn let out another groan, his face flushing in embarrassment. He totally didn't lean into it when Jimmy went to give another scratch, and he certainly did not purr about it either.
"You little rascal." He huffs, moving away so Jimmy can longer reach him. The canary just laughs, and lamely tires to chase after him. As a result, Martyn ends up on the floor giggling, and closer to the door.
Jimmy leaves him a few minutes later, saying he should consider going outside. Now that he's feeling better and all. Martyn hums, and takes that into some real consideration.
Maybe he will finally leave his house...
______________________________________________________________
Once leaving the house, Martyn isn't to sure where to go. He doesn't really wanna run into anyone and face any questions about the....everything. Unless whoever he runs into is one of five people. Those five being the four that already know, and the only other person that has weird gender stuff. That he knows of, anyways.
So he ends up knocking on his ex soulmates door, and praying no one else is home.
The front door opens, and the blonde suddenly wonders if this was a bad idea, and if he should be regretting all his life choices.
"Martyn. What do you want?" Cleo asks, leaning against her front doorway. They don't look displeased to see him, but they also don't look to happy either. Martyn ignores that, the look the zombie is shooting him, the growing ball of anxiety in his stomach, and tries to force out words instead.
"Um well, you see-" He begins, a little unsure. As if right on cue, his tail starts flicking. Cleo notices, and raises a curious eyebrow The blonde holds back a sigh at the movement he cannot yet control, and gestures to the ears now atop his head. "It's about....this."
"Okay, you're a calico cat now...?" The zombie says, not quite getting it. Which is fair, considering he has never talked about it before. (Something he probably should've done with his damn soulmate back in Double Life, but the past's the past and this is the present.)
"And calicos can only be...." Martyn trails off, letting the statement finish itself. He knows Cleo's smart enough to work it out.
"Oh." She says, her eyes lighting up in understanding. They stop leaning on the doorway, and move out of it completely. "Get inside."
"Thanks." Martyn says, slipping inside their house. God, even all his movements fell cat like now. Which sucks big time. It's making him feel worse, if anything.
"Don't mention it." Cleo says, shutting the door behind both of them. No one else seems to be home, since the house is quiet expect for the sounds the pair makes. Martyn is grateful for this, because he doesn't want Etho to overhear this, and Grian already knows. The zombie shows him to where one of their beds are, and gestures for him to sit.
"So....does anyone know about it?" They ask, watching as Martyn awkwardly plops himself down on the white bedsheets. On a bed Etho probably stole a few weeks back, no less.
"Yeah. Jimmy, Pearl, Grian, and Bigb." He says, wrapping his new tail around his legs. He strongly resists the urge to kneed the bed. "And you now, I guess."
"So whoever makes these games just forced you to come out, basically." Cleo says, sitting in the opposite side of the bed next to him. She looks a little pissed at that, so much so Martyn believes she would fight the Watchers herself. He's touched by the implied sentiment, really.
"Yeah..." Martyn mumbles. If he's upset by it, and he definitely is, the blonde tries not to show it. He doesn't wanna dampen the mood more than his presence normally does.
Cleo repeats the same sentiment Jimmy had just an hour before, and Martyn wants to scream just a little bit. "Well, no ones gonna hate you for it."
"I know! Jimmy already told me that." He said, throwing his arms up in the air a bit. Like a petulant child would. "It's just scary."
He continues with a sigh, putting his hands back down and clutching them at his sides. Martyn wonders if there are any hidden claws he could unsheathe and accidently dig into his flesh. "And Ren. Ren won't know. And I kinda wanted to tell him before anyone else...."
"I think he'll find out, in his own Ren way probably." Cleo says, surprisingly reassuring. Martyn doesn't know why he's surprised, when this is exactly what he came here for. "I just have a feeling like that."
"....Okay." Martyn mumbles, somehow, feeling reassured by those words. Some part deep down in him knows that Cleo is right, and that Ren will find out in his own, diggty dog like way. Like he was always going too.
"You should just walk around, honestly. No hiding the tail or the ears." Cleo says with an easy shrug. And for some reason, Martyn finds himself taking their advice. But it's always been like that, he takes the zombies advice almost on instinct. Like some part of him knows that she's admittedly smarter about some things.
It was just another weird thing about their relationship, he supposes.
"Really?" Martyn says, consideration made clear in his tone. "They're gonna say something..."
Cleo just snorts, and gives him a little bit of a look. "Do you think Bdubs is smart enough to put two and two together? Or Joel? They'll probably just think you have cute little ears now."
"You have a point..." Martyn mumbled, now actually somewhat sold on his ex-soulmates idea. His tail flicked again, but probbaly with a more positive emrion than it had before. "....You think these are cute?" He added with a sly little smile, not one to miss that comment at the end there.
"Get out before I make you." Cleo snorted, going to try and shove him off the bed. Martyn held back a giggle, and quickly doged out of their reach. It didn't work fully, as they manged to shove him just a little bit.
"Yes ma'am." Martyn said, getting off and the bed and to his feet with a slight stumble. "Lovely speaking to ya" The blonde called over his shoulder, not looking back as he made his way towards the door.
"Can't say the same here." Cleo yelled after him, but it clearly wasn't too serious, and there was a slight laugh in her tone still.
Martyn smiled at the sound, and let the house feeling much more confident than he did when he had entered.
______________________________________________________________
In taking Cleo’s advice, Martyn had decided to just do so chores. Said chores included boring and mundane things, like gathering wood, stone, food, and maybe placing a couple of cheeky sweet berry bushes down here and there. Just in case they did manage to nick someone.
He would not seek out people like he normally would. The blonde decided go just simply be for once. Whoever found him found him, and he would face the questions and stares when they did.
It wasn't of any surprise to him when Pearl was the first person he spotted. Martyn had a feeling something like that would happen, especially since he was a little near to the mounders base.
He spotted his friend as she left her base, slipping outside of the Mounders walls to do whatever. Pearl hadn’t spotted him just yet, but he couldn't just not call out a greeting, that would be rude. And he wasn't gonna be rude to Pearl, of all people.
"Hi Pearl!" Martyn yelled out, throwing his arm up in a friendly wave.
The brunette looked up in suprise, her head twisting around rapidly. When Pearl finally saw where he friend was standing, her eyes lit up. "Martyn! Hi!"
He smiled back, and walked forward, so they could talk easier. As he moved forward, he saw the way Pearl’s eye widened at the sight of his ears, and suddenly had a very good idea of what her reaction was going to be.
"Your ears!" Pearl says when they are standing infront of each other, reaching to cup his face. Martyn let's her, very aware of the fur that now lines his cheeks as well. She squishes them in wonder, before going to fiddle with his ears. The blonde can only let out an amused huff at all her prodding, leaning into the contact on newly formed instincts.
"Yeah, I'm a cat now." He responds, cheekily flicking his tail around her legs. Pearl lets out a gasp, her eyes moving towards the new apendage.
"And you have a tail!" Pearl almost squeals her words out, watching the blonde's tail flick with even more wonder if her eyes. If that was even possible. Martyn almost has to hold back a chuckle.
"Yep. And I'm a calico." He says, trying really really hard to hide the sourness he feels over it. But apparently he doesn't try hard enough, because Pearl still catches it, and a frown stretches across her features.
"If anyone's rude to you, I'll kill them myself." Pearl says firmly, giving him another scratch behind the ear, for she is still holding his face in her hands.
"Greens can't kill people!" Martyn giggles, leaning into the touch without even thinking about it anymore.
"Doesn't matter!" Pearl says a little too cheerfully, rubbing the fur on his cheeks again. Martyn had forgotten half his friends were cat people, admittedly like himself, and that a lot of them were going to have this reaction. So today, and maybe the next few, were going to be filled with a lot of this. A lot of pets and ear scratches. Not that he exactly hated it, it was just something the blonde now had to get used too.
"We should go show B and Grian! And Jimmy!" Pearl exclaimed after a moment of rather comforting pets, her eyes lighting up once more.
"Tim's already seen me!" Martyn says, letting his cheeks get properly smushed, like a grandma would do.
"Well BigB and Gri havent!" Pearl's insistent on it. And before the blonde knows what's happenings she's grabbed him by the hand, and is now taking him towards BigB's weird hole base. Martyn accepts his face, holding back a few more laughs as he does so.
They thankfully find BigB at his own place, and not the heart foundation, exactly as Pearl had thought they would. She flags their friend down by calling out his name until he hears her, mainly because neither of them really know where he would be hiding in his labyrinth of a base. This strategy works surprisingly well.
BigB appears from around a corner, like some sort of damn ghost, and Martyn has to stop himself from jumping out of his skin. And to both of their surprises, Grian follows behind him, wings a little messy. They had to have been in the mines then, for the parrots wings to be full of that much soot and dust.
The two men approch them cheerfully, and rhe blonde forgets everything Cleo, Pearl and Jimmy had been telling him all day. He figures this is going to become routine for the day, and maybe the one after that.
"Martyn," BigB said, studying his friend carefully. Like the difference wasn't obvious. The blonde tried to shrink under his gaze, acutely aware if the way his tail flicked behind him. "You're a cat now."
"Isn't he adorable!?" Pearl exclaimed, going to rub his ears again. Martyn wrinkled his nose at that, and moved away best he could. Just because he had ears didn't mean Pearl could pet him all she wanted. Though she would damn well try, regardless of his opinion on it.
Grian snickered, watching his tail move from side to side in amusement. "Not so much of a big dog now, eh?"
"Oh hush, bird brain." Martyn snorted, suddenly smacking the avian in the leg with the very tail he was so amused by.
"Hey!" Grian squawked lightly, his wings starting to flare out behind him. Martyn smiled smuggly, and shuffled a little out if the way, knowing his friend was not afraid to smack someone. With his hands or his wings. The other two people laughed at their antics, giggles filling the air.
Maybe Cleo was right after all. Maybe walking around wasn't such a bad idea after all. Even if Pearl and BigB were insistent on showing him off to everyone.
It's not really what Martyn had in mind for the day, but he'll go with it. Especially if it's with these three people. Maybe Jimmy will even join them, and make his day even more unexpected.
Yeah, yeah that would be nice. A day running around with those four, just like they used too. That would be nice.
______________________________________________________________
By the end of the day, Martyn had been paraded around to everyone. Every member of the server had seen his new tail and ears, and most of them had fawned over it and called him cute. And maybe he has attempted to scratch a few certain people for such comments as well. Not many, just a few. To test if he had claws is all.
There were only two interactions that stuck out in his mind, ones that he would probably replay over and over again in his head for a few days at least. And the first one happened when he stumbled across an old teammate
He found Scott once Pearl brought him up to the cherry Blossom, still dragging him around by the hand like a toddler. Martyn just let her do so, not wanting to kill her enthusiasm. And the cherry trees did smell rather nice, now that he had a better sense of smell on him. So going up the pink mountain wasn't all too bad, even if his feet were staring to tire from all the walking he'd done. BigB had long since left them for that excat reason, actually, and Martyn couldn't fault him. There were walking around the whole server without a horse.
After marveling at him for a few minutes, Gem takes Pearl into her house for something, a trade the blonde thinks. Impulse hadn’t been home at the time, reportedly with Bdubs or Skizz. Which just leaves Martyn and Scott, the two men standing in a silence that is only a little bit stilted.
Matyn awkwardly shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets, tail flicking against some loose cherry petals on the ground. He feels like there's something they should talk about, considering how close they were last game. A game he knows they both remember. Thankfully, Scott wants to get to the point, taking a few thoughtful steps closer to the blonde.
Scott hummed, scanning over his ears and tail. He'd clearly figuired it out, why Martyn was a calico. He'd probabky done so instantly, actually, knowing Scott and how stupidly perspectives he tended to be. "You never told me, back on the island."
"Never came up." Martyn shrugged. Yet his tail still flicked uneasily, old memroies making some part of him feel unsure about this situation. Even though he knew not to be. "You're not mad, are you?"
"Nope." Scott smiled reassuringly, bumping their shoulders together. "I wish you had, but I understand why you didn't."
Martyn smiled back at him, and playfully flicked his tail around the others legs. "So you're not mad?"
"Not at all." Scott confirmed, right as Gem and Pearl excited the formers house, stuff now being carried in both of the women's arms. Martyn internally groaned at the thought of having to lug that around with them, and hoped Pearl had the sanity to make a stop back at home before going anywhere else.
The next encounter he remembered was at the end of the day, on his way home. As sunset was falling and just under an hour after he and Pearl had parted ways.
On his way back to the mesa, he runs into Tango. Or rather, he runs into Ren in Tango's body, as some part of him is saying.
He's not going to question, or even think about why They decided to do that. Martyn just feels his breath hitch, and his limbs go stone cold.
The two of them just stand there for a moment, looking and staring in what has to be either shock or awe. Martyn cannot tell which.
Ren stares back at him knowingly, through Tango's red eyes, and Martyn has never felt so observed in his life. It's as if his old friend is searching every inch of him, taking in everything so he never forgets it again. And his new features as well, features he stares at way too long for Martyn to be comfortable with.
Ren slash Tango opens his mouth to speak, and for a moment Martyn is a little scared. He's scared of what the other will say, and what cruel words might be hurled at him.
Then he remembers that this all nonsense, and that these people are his friends. They are not like those people, they are not like that.
He remembers Cleo and Jimmy’s words for what has to be the seventh time that day, and feels a little better once more.
"Hey." The other man says, tentative.
Martyn mumbles back. "Hey."
Ren slash- he's just going to call him Ren, since that's who's really speaking here, let's out a small smile. Martyn misses his dog ears and the little fangs you could always see when he moved his mouth. Not to say Tango was and looking or anything, his body just wasn't the right fit for this one particular dog guy. "Been a while, hasn't it?"
"Yeah." Martyn smiled, feeling himself go a bit less stiff by the moment.
"Your ears," Ren says, sounding a little uncertain of how to broach this topic. Martyn can't blame him for it, because he isn't quite sure either. "You never told me before."
"I didn't know how." The blonde says, honest. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry, it's not a big deal." Ren smiles gently. Martyn smiles back, no longer feeling scared anymore.
Everyone was right. No one would get mad at him. His friends were not those kinda people.
"Well, Tim's waiting for me back at Baxter." He continues after a moment moment now comfortable silence. "See you a different time?"
"Yeah, a different time." Ren confirms, giving him a small wave as he starts to turn away. The blonde waves back.
"Makre sure Tango knows somehow, will you? I don't want him being left out." He gives one last request. He'd hate for one of their group to be left out because of them, after all.
"Will do!" Ren calls, and that is where their meeting ends. Both men go back to their own homes, confident they will see each other once again. Maybe not here, but elsewhere, in a different place maybe.
Martyn goes home, to his syupid little dog house, feeling a lot better than he had when he woke up that morning.
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factual-fantasy · 5 months
Text
I have 25 Asksskssks :0000
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No one in the group can pacify, no. <:/
But this just made me imagine Seam pulling up with a Ralsei and he's just like "Ok do it now-" Ralsei pacifies Jevil and he falls flat on his face. Totally asleep, just- dead to the world.
"Thank you, I can never get him to sleep. What a stubborn jester he is." Seam picks Jevil up and just walks away with him XDD
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@dragonlover123456
Whenever I feel like drawing it. Heck, I might not draw another series at all 🤷‍♂️
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Yeah! I figured it would be restricting if the clothes on the animatronics were real <XD
Also THANK YOU! :DDD I'm usually not so sure about that part of my comics, so I'm glad to hear that you like it! :}}}
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Oh! No no, Sunny and Moony are the same person. The daycare attendant is 1 animatronic, with 1 personality. He is 1 person.
In the true swap, DA swaps with DJMM.
In the partial swap, DA doesn't swap with anyone. Him and DJ's theme both just get changed up a bit.
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@scrimbly-mc-scrombly-iii
AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDD 💖💖💖
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@kaiserdarken
I don't think the animatronics would understand the significance of Christmas like we do..
To them, Christmas is just that time of year where the Pizzaplex gets decorated with trees and shiny things. Their cued songs change and they get temporary redesigns for about a month or so. Then suddenly all the decorations get torn down and everything goes back to normal. :/
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I can see Freddy liking just a simple Pepperoni. :) Same with Bonnie!
Chica probably likes all pizzas, but maybe her favorite is a pizza with absolutely all the toppings. Spinach, Black olives, Sausage, extra cheese, Mushrooms, onions- just put everything on there! XD
I'd like to think that Foxy is surprisingly a bit picky with his pizza and prefers a plain cheese. :00
Monty probably likes most pizza's but maybe he openly prefers Hawaiian pizza?
Roxy probably also likes Hawaiian pizza but is afraid of being judged so never eats it :(
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@thelocalbadartistta
I DO love slime rancher! :DD I "beat" the first game and I forgot to play the second one- :x
Also thank you! :DD
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Thank you!! :DD I'm glad you like what you see! :}}
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@insanityislife101
I have seen that episode but I don't remember much of it... what headcannon are you referring to..?
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Jevil would probably see all these people who are trapped and losing their minds and offer to take them all with him. Out into the multiverse to find freedom and a new home..
Although I wonder if he could even do that. Their digital nature might prevent them from traversing into the multiverse <XD
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@badlyblurry
Those penguins look like they live an a tropical environment.. Which Peso's family does not... :((
Also my Peso isn't an Emperor, he's a Royal! :)
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AWWWW I LOVE THAT IDEA!! I think I've seen the comic you're talking about! :DD
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@trainer-sean
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@itsgemystic
In the edn..
In the... eden...
In.. the...... e d e n
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Google seems to say that male calico cats are possible. They're just extremely rare (1 in 3,000 up to 1 in 10,000) and they have an XXY chromosome which can cause Klinefelter's Syndrome.
After all the googling I did I decided to add this fact to my Calico Jack lore XDD
SO my new canon is, on Kwazii's mom's side of the family there are generation after generation of Calico daughters. Having a male calico is extremely rare so most of his moms family are all female calicos. BUT, his great, great, great, etc- Grandfather was a rare male calico. His name was Jackson something Calico. He was pirate legend and all that stuff.
Jackson had some daughters and then generations later the second male would be born to the calico line. Kwazii's grandfather! They named him Jackson too after the first male Calico in their bloodline. Jack is aware of his rarity and is very proud to bear the name Jackson.
Now Kwazii's dad was an orange tabby. So he was born male and has most all the fur patterns his dad did. Say for there being a little more white than is usually seen in tabby's coat. Maybe he got a bit of that from his Calico mom.?
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@yeetmysoulintothevoid
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SKLSKASJN WAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! THAT MEANS THE WORLD TO MEEEEE!!! 😭😭😭💖💖😭✨✨
Also I actually haven't heard of that game.. it sounds interesting though! 👀
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Bash would probably take all the clay, make it into a ball, and then add spikes to it. Wait till it hardens, and then through it at people XDD
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@dovelylittlebird
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WAAA THANK YOU VERY MUCHH!! THAT'S SO KIND OF YOU TO SAYYY WAAAA💖💖💖
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I don't recall making a post like that.. anyhow, my algorithm now is "I post whatever I want, whenever I want" <XDD
I don't have a schedule or an algorithm I'm trying to follow. I just draw whatever I want and post them whenever I want to.
The ask posts though, those are dependent on my followers. Usually when I get to 30-40 askes stored up I compile as many as I can and answer them in one go. :0
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I don't take any requests, no. But if someone asks about my AU's and wants more insight on something, that usually interests me enough to want to draw something for it. Like just now I have two asks stored away because I'd like to draw something for them..👀
But that doesn't mean that every ask like that will get a drawing. A lot of the time those asks just make me think and I type out a response instead. I'm always open for those asks though and would read all of your suggestions! Just don't ask them expecting me to draw them because 9 times out of 10 they wont get a drawing-
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@skellacant
My advice would be to base your OC on an already existing animatronic. That way it looks related to the other animatronics and fits in a little better :0
So in my opinion your options are animatronics like Ballora, Circus Baby, Puppet, Ennard, Balloon boy.. you know, the "human" characters. You could use one of them as a reference and make something similar but with a skeleton theme.
For example, the Puppet. You could make your own puppet with maybe different proportions, and a skull mask instead of a clown(?) one. Maybe instead of stripes on the arms it could be a cartoony bone pattern. Instead of buttons on the chest it could be 2-3 ribs on each side. Stuff like that! :}
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Oh no no- The partial and true swap follow the formula of the classic AU.
So in the partial swap, Foxy was sane and helped guide Gregory through the pizzaplex. Gregory escapes with Foxy's help, but later returns. Foxy takes him to the basement where Gregory snoops around and finds Chica. Later on Chica and Gregory snoop around and find Freddy. Monty, Roxy and Bonnie don't remember Gregory and they're not aware that he's in the basement.
Now in the true swap, Bonnie was sane and helped guide little Vanessa through the pizzaplex. She escapes with Bonnie's help, but later returns. Bonnie takes her to the basement where she snoops around and finds Chica. Later on Chica and Vanessa snoop around and find Freddy. Monty, Roxy and Foxy don't remember Vanessa and they're not aware that she's in the basement.
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Seam is currently collapsed in the snow somewhere having big old man sleepy time✨
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@beryl-shade
Actually, in the most recent FNAF comic that I made, that's exactly what Gregory was doing! :00 He was trying to take the arm off to hopefully tape it onto Bonnie and give him a new arm <XD
Who's to say it would have worked-
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the-purity-pen · 10 months
Text
Lights Out
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Santiago Garcia x AFAB!Reader (no y/n)
rating: EXPLICIT (NO MINORS)
warnings: oral (afab receiving), fluff and feels (be warned)
words: 2.9k
a/n: this comes from a request from my lovely bestie @flightlessangelwings. it uh... well it got away from me a bit and therefore is a full fic. talk about coming back to tumblr fanfic writing with a vengence. sorry not sorry.
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The storm outside was loud. So loud that every boom of thunder felt like it was shaking your entire house. You held your cat on your lap while on the couch, curled up with your favorite blanket, and the television turned on to the romance movie you had started earlier in the week. The plus side to working for the small town bar was that your boss, your best friend, didn’t force you to come in during storms.
The unexpected night off meant you got comfy in a large oversized t-shirt and soft cotton sleep shorts. Which was the call for the blanket as the temperature outside cooled down more than you were expecting. Your calico Ellie also helped keep you warm as she purred on your lap.
The lights flickered, but nothing else seemed affected, so you ignored it and returned to watching the movie. After months of built-up flirting, the male protagonist had just gotten the nerve to kiss the female protagonist. His hand on her chin made goosebumps rise along your skin. You were hopelessly romantic and loved all those movies and seeing the characters kiss for the first time. It was electric, and you always dreamed of having that for yourself.
The lights flickered three more times in rapid succession before everything went dark. Even though your heart rate elevated with anxiety, you managed a breath before muttering, “Damn it,” and getting up from your comfortable spot. Ellie gave a soft chirping meow to let you know that she didn’t like being moved, but she managed to get to the other end of the couch and curl back up to sleep. You shook your head at her before heading to the kitchen. In one of the drawers, you dug through the piles of receipts and take-out menus, rubber bands, and scotch tape until you found the little purple sparkly flashlight.
Just as you pull it out to turn it on, a loud knock at your door makes you jump—your heart races as you try to steady your breathing. You get the flashlight turned on just before you reach your front door. You peeked out the top window from your tiptoes just enough to see the top of a head covered in onyx-colored curls. You opened the door to find Santiago, your neighbor, soaked to the bone and panting.
“Santi,” you sighed as you lowered the flashlight and stepped back to allow him inside. His head is lowered as he steps in but remains on the indoor welcome mat, seemingly trying not to drip water all over your hardwood floor. You closed the door, rushed to the oven to grab the hand towel, and handed it to him. He offered a soft “thanks” while drying his face and arms.
“Well, I see you’re out of power too,” Santi mentions as he stands up straighter and looks around your living room with a soft chuckle, then back to you.
“Just lost it. Interrupted my movie too,” you offer with a soft laugh; turning off the flashlight as the moon glows from outside is enough to see Santi as you converse.
After an awkward silence, Santi hands the now-damp towel back to you, and you put it on the counter beside you.
“Didn’t know if you and Ellie needed anything,” he finally spoke after clearing his throat. His brows lifted as he looked at you. Even in the dark, there was no denying how handsome Santi was. Add in how wonderful of a neighbor he had been over the last year since you moved in, and he was pretty accurately the perfect man.
He had helped change the spark plugs in your car, repaired the front gutter, helped build your back deck, and replaced the upstairs bath’s faucet. All for free. He never asked for anything in return except for some free pastries when he’d stop by your bakery. You couldn’t say no. His sweet tooth was like no other, and for the rugged man he appeared to be, knowing he had a soft spot for your cupcakes and brownies made you just that little bit mushier.
“It’s fine. We’ve survived worse,” you commented, a wry laugh being pulled from you. The words and meanings were heavier than you intended them to be. Santi seemed to catch on as he stared after you, watching you move further into the kitchen.
“Did you want some water?” you offered as you reached into the cupboard for two glasses. The fridge, thankfully, still worked for a few minutes after a power outage. You knew it would eventually run out of the reserved energy to keep things cold, but at least you had the water jug in there.
“Sure,” Santi answered, wiping his feet before venturing toward you over at the sink. But as he waited, he did so very close to the side of the fridge. You turned after filling the first glass and bumped into him with your elbow, causing the cold water to splash onto you, eliciting a shriek.
“Oh! Shit, I’m so sorry,” Santi started apologizing and immediately grabbed the towel from the counter you had let him use. He started patting you down with it, but the dampness of the towel from his usage and the cold water already absorbing into your shirt caused you to shiver and shake your head. You set the glass on the counter by the fridge and mumbled to him that you were okay. He handed you the towel but stood dumbfounded as he watched you.
“Are you sure? Can I get you something else? Where are your other towels?” he asked rapidly before hurrying around the kitchen, opening drawers and cabinets to find something else to dry you off.
“Santi,” you said with a laugh. “I’m good. Let me get changed. Help yourself to the water, though. I’ll be right back.”
You disappeared around the corner and down the hall. Stripping off the T-shirt once in your bedroom, you opened your wardrobe to find... nothing else in the comfort level to be worn. Your dirty laundry was still in the washer in the basement, and you hadn’t switched it over to the dryer before the storm. You mentally and physically facepalmed. “Great,” you muttered before closing the drawer and moving to your closet. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but it would have to do.
Walking back out toward the kitchen, fiddling with the buttons on your ex’s dress shirt, you didn’t notice Santi had moved, and you ran head-first into his solid chest. “Whoa,” he laughed, his arms coming out to steady your shoulders. His hands were warm on your cold skin, even through the shirt's material.
You swallowed thickly as you looked up at him. The moment was fleeting, but it was there, and you swore you saw the sparkle in his deep brown eyes. But perhaps that was just the lights flickering back on. You heard all the machines in your kitchen turn on, and it must have cleared Santi’s mind because he, too, backed away and cleared his throat.
“Well, look at that,” he said and nodded slowly, looking around to see everything turn back on - including the television. The movie must have paused when the power went out because it picked right back up where it had left off. The two main characters were getting into their kissing, and the music was swelling, indicating which direction things were going in.
“Oh!” you shouted as the moans from the actors started to fill the room and romantic close-ups of their bodies began to show on the screen. You practically fumbled and ran from Santi to find the remote. The moaning and panting got louder, and you swore the remote was on the couch. You bent in strange ways, trying to see it, lifting the blanket from where it had crumpled, and felt your heart racing faster and faster with each passing moment.
Santi looked on, bemused, a smirk on his lips, taking a mental note of what kind of movies you enjoyed. Was it because he wanted to know you a bit better? Yes. Was it also because the noises from the tv sounded erotic and affected him? Also yes. And how you bent over at one certain angle, perhaps giving him the slightest hint of the bottom of your backside? Absolutely yes.
He walked over after you seemed to be failing at locating the remote. “Can I help?” he asked, standing closer to the tv, the actors getting into the steamy sex scene now. You could barely hear him over the thumping in your ears from your heart. Where the fuck did that little remote go, and why was there so much moaning on the television now?
You turned and saw Santi watching the tv as the sex scene played. It was rather raunchy for being a romance film, but it was steamy and sexy, and you swallowed thickly. You cleared your throat, staring at how Santi watched the scene play out.
“What movie is this?” he asked before facing you and noticing you staring at him.
Caught off guard, you stumbled through an answer. “Oh, uh, it’s just some romance movie based on a book series.” Vague, yes. Keep it vague.
Santi’s smirk took over, and your knees would buckle if it were a romance movie like the one on your screen. He was so ruggedly handsome, and you were brought back to just a few minutes before when his hands were on you. The feeling had this moment of staring at each other, turning you into a puddle. Especially as Santi moved away from the tv and toward you, his head cocked to one side, seemingly studying you.
“Do you like romance novels? And movies?”
There was no judgment, no mocking in his tone. He was genuinely asking. You quickly ran through the scenarios of what a yes answer and a denying no answer could look like. You opted for honesty. After all, other than your crush on him, your neighborly friendship with him had always been honest and straightforward.
You nodded as he moved closer and now stood directly before you. His nod was much slower than yours, thoughtful, and you noticed all of the stubble along his jaw. That hadn’t been there the last time you had seen him. But it suited him. His hand gently came up in front of your chest but paused, his eyes searching yours. Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips and back as your head gently nodded.
His rough, calloused hand ghosted in front of your chest and to your jawline. The contrast of the feel of his hand against your jaw and your skin caused both of you to take shuddering breaths in. “So you enjoy the idea of being kissed… softly?” Santi asked, his soft, graveling tone sending a shiver down your body.
Your heart felt like it had jumped into your throat, making words hard to come out. Instead, you nodded and breathed in, holding it. Your gaze on Santi was soft but begging him to move even closer. You had wanted to feel his kiss for so long, but you didn’t know that he even had an inkling of romantic feelings toward you.
“May I?”
The question surprised you. Santi didn’t seem the type to ask. You had seen him with women at the neighborhood picnics and gatherings. He always seemed so in control and cocky. The first time you officially introduced yourself to him, his smirk nearly made you hate him because he looked so full of himself.
But it was becoming more apparent that that was a facade, and with that, you nodded and mumbled a soft “please” in answer. His look was pure contentment as he leaned in, his hand sliding over to hold your chin and lifting it ever so slightly. He leaned in, his lips nearly at yours before he spoke, causing you to whimper.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for six months.”
You blinked and looked up at him. Your face did a slight double take, blinking harder.
“What?”
“I came over to help you fix more stuff because I had this ridiculous fantasy of coming over sometime and finding you half-dressed. I’d take you on the couch and devour you, tasting all of you. Like some romance movie,” he admitted, and your entire body became alight with lust. You couldn’t even stop your hands as they lifted to his fitted t-shirt and gripped the front of it, pulling him to you so that his lips had no choice but to land on yours.
The groans he let out let you know that you had done something right in taking the first move. His free hand slid down the side of your body to your hip, where his rough fingertips dug into your flesh, crumpling the shirt. You took a step back, tugging him with you until your knees buckled at the couch, and you both landed, Santi’s knee on the left side of you on the sofa.
Your hands moved up to his face, cupping his scruffed jaw. His lips chased yours, but you had other plans as you held his face and moved your lips along his cheek and to the soft spot behind his ear. Your tongue played against it, licking him before moving to his jugular. His hand on your chin slid down to cup your breast through the shirt, and you moaned, arching your back into his touch.
“Oh, that’s what you like, hm?” he breathed out, moving his face down to echo the licking and nibbling at your neck that you had just done to him. His smirk could be felt against your skin as you mewled in pleasure.
Hands moved all over; mouths continued to explore the upper parts of your bodies until they were reunited again in a heavier, hotter, more passionate kiss. Santi’s hand trailed down your body to between your legs, where he found your moist center. He groaned, his thumb pressing gently against the sensitive button that had your hips wildly thrusting toward him. His hand continued to move but in such a teasing manner that it was starting to frustrate you. Just having his body on yours was better than anything, but having his hand at your most needed part was already better than all your nights with your toys.
His mouth ventured down, suckling at your breast through the shirt, moistening it before moving down until he was on his knees on the floor in front of the couch and you. His hands slid up your thighs, pushing the oversized shirt out of his way. He leaned in, kissing up one thigh, then, when he barely reached your apex, his mouth moved to the other, starting the trail north.
“God, Santi, please,” you murmured, a mumble. Your brain was working on overdrive that this man would do this to live out the fantasy he had admitted to you.
His hands worked down your shorts and panties in one fell swoop. A master at undressing you already. Either that, or you were just that needy and desperate. He leaned in the moment he saw the glistening of your sex. His tongue swiping along your slit, bottom to top, your hands nestled into his curls.
“Santi.” You breathed out his name in pants and moans, and he was done for. His mouth closed over your warm cunt, lapping at you before stiffening his tongue and pressing into you. The curl of the muscle of his tongue pushing into you had your breath catching in your throat. His mouth was magic, and you were sure to come undone quickly.
But just as your peak nearly hit, your hips pressing up against his face, he pulled back, his hands pushing your hips back down. “Oh, baby. Not yet. I want to see you crumble and hear you scream, but I want to keep tastin’ you. I want to know that I’m making you shudder and shiver from pleasure. Okay?”
You whine, but if the last few minutes were any indication, Santi had no plans to leave the space between your legs soon. His tongue gently licked at you, to which you shuddered from sensitivity. His hands worked in slow circles on your thighs, and when his mouth wasn’t against you, his eyes were studying his fingers played gently against your clit, watching the way you would tense and clench around nothing.
And you were right. Three orgasms from his lips and mouth alone later, Santi finally comes up for air, his scruff glistening with your wetness. You reach out for him and pull his head up to you so that you can lean forward and capture his lips against yours. You moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue and in his mouth as you deepen the kiss.
When you broke the kiss, Santi leaned his forehead against yours to catch his breath. “I.. am not done with you,” he grinned as he kissed you chastely and pulled back. Showing you the wicked grin on his lips and the devilish glint in his dark eyes. You laughed and shook your head.
“You really shouldn’t wait six months to kiss me next time,” you quipped. His chuckle seemed to rumble deep into his chest.
“Oh, so you’re sassy too, huh?” he laughed as his hands gently tickled your sides before sliding one up to hold your chin again to you could look directly into his eyes.
“I’m never waiting to kiss you ever again. Ever,” he told you sternly, the laughter dying off as his lips retook yours in a soft, gentle, but firm kiss.
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