my singular contribution to the furry fandom is functionally a long note that reads "you're forgiven for jacking off" dressed in the comforting silhouette of a big rude sex boy
"If your erection lasts more than four hours, find a tour bus to taunt everyone how small they are next to your dick, then maybe call a doctor."
Tiny scavengers in your cabinets losing their footing and tumbling to the ground; teaching for purchase to avoid a very painful date leading to them dangling from one of your piercings. Any piercing. Pick one.
Looking nervously up at Amanda who I only come up to the chest of as she tips my chin up with the still-warm barrel of the shrink ray and grins so playfully. ... Okay, I could be convinced on this concept.
Dripping drool and pre on the floor as they read off all the property damage charges and remembering the fun you had, tail wagging and cracking part of the chart wall behind you and sending one of those officers tumbling onto your shoulder.
Artists in media are just sad because they know they're in an imaginary piece and frankly the creator of said media should have given them a real fox with tits as a muse. And frankly, who can blame them?!
It's an excellent pair of moods to have, and to share with good friends and acquaintances!
The awkward exchange of glances as a giant looks down at the scavenger clinging haphazardly to his navel piercing, a slight smirk of amusement. Only to watch as his inhale knocks the little person loose and they have to grab onto his Prince Albert piercing on the way down.
My goodness, that certainly is an amazing view! Smoking hot doesn't do it justice! One might imagine you looming over their home or standing on their desktop...