✨awoo✨

outdoor cat defenders really are simply some of the most Delusional people on the planet, like you can list fact after fact all with verified sources about how bad it is to let cats outside for both them & the environment around them and people will cover their ears and be like "umm not my frumpkins he knows not to play in traffic & he has magical resistance to coyotes and disease"

thinking back to the time that a random girl told me how her cat would always find injured wildlife and bring them to her to try and heal them.

the mental gymnastics genuinely had me speechless

when will they make hrt that gives u a long swishy tail and a soft velvety nose and cute little ears on top of ur head

Oh, same, actually. I'm really into monsterfucking, but not really into vore, snuff, or gore. And your blog has been an amazing way to practice the online skill of "I'm not into it but good for her." And a few times recently, I've even found myself leaning towards."It doesn't do much for me, but I can appreciate this as really good erotic literature." I feel like people should more commonly practice squick tolerance. It's good for building solidarity among kinksters.

being naked and crawling around after you, letting you pull my hair and fuck my throat, cum in my mouth, on my face. then you lean back slightly and push your boot right between my legs. i'm dripping wet, so sensitive, so turned on after not being touched for so long. you don't even have to tell me to do it, i just lean down into it, clutch your leg, drag my little dick back and forth, back and forth, hump your boot like the desperate little dog i am. i'm whining in seconds. you press your boot up against my cunt hard, wait until i'm right on the edge. then you pull away, boot to chest you push me away. not today.

An adoring submissive that gets so so much pleasure from being used in humiliating ways that they'll cry and beg to be denied, groped, slapped, edged, spanked, stepped on, and choked. Plesding desperately to worship their dom's bulge, to have their body covered in marks from impliments, to be paraded around on a leash, to be used as a footrest, to have their holes poked, prodded and inspected. Their submission and degredation such a reward to them that they'll give ask to give head or be used for hours, their pretty little heart filled with hope that if they do a good enough job they'll be beaten and humiliated as a reward as soon as their owner is done using them.

I was fingering a trans guy recently and I could literally feel his pulse in his cunt every time I’d say something that really exited him. It was like the perfect non verbal communicator for me to know exactly what he enjoyed hearing the most. I even asked if he could feel himself pulsating to make sure it wasn’t just his heartbeat and his eyes lite up while he got all embarrassed which let me know he felt every single pulse shoot through his body from his cunt. It was so fucking hot saying the right thing and feeling it jolt again and again as he tightened up and his dick twitched while his eyes rolled back into his head.

God I need to do it again immediately

A human is an animal that thinks that if it follows enough made up rules, that it can be something other than an animal. And the thing is, even if you stop trying to be a human, it's hard to truly go back to being like other animals. Language is a virus, and it carves deep grooves in your brain, changing the way you look at and experience the world. If you can remember why you have teeth though, you might just have what it takes to become a monster instead.

Excellent Manners Wolf goes to his local coffee shop

solo jazz suicune

Space Deer - No. 54: No vision

wew I'm bored... [remembers every negative interaction in my life] huh

i love you visible brushstrokes. i love you glue warped scrapbook pages. i love you awkward poems. i love you junk journal with faded receipts. i love you poorly composed journal layout. I love you unintentionally blurry photographs. i love you asymmetrical beading. i love you curling freeform crochet. i love you fingerprints on pottery. i love you reused materials. i love you improvised instruments. i love you mistakes. i love you bravery to make it anyway. i love you creativity that hasn't been wiped clean of every drop of humanity and sanitized and commodified.