Welcome to Herbivore Hell

Indie 18+ RP blog for Cosmo from Beastars. Sideblog to yourdearhart

[museplethora]

@ravishinglyravenous

“Excuse me, Cosmo-san.” It was Roxanne’s first week being a bouncer for the strip club. The store she normally worked at was being remodeled so she’d needed to find some temporary work. Her cousin had found her a job quickly, but well… it happened to be in the black market of all places. Tigers were plenty strong enough to fight off the majority of carnivores, so she’d been an easy hire for the place. There hadn’t been any incidents yet, so she’d mostly just been standing around looking tough for hours on end. The entertainment offered wasn’t really her thing, but she was rather captivated by this Okapi. Cosmo danced so boldly while faced with all those lustful hungry stares, it was an incredible sight. While Roxanne was always hesitant to approach others, she’d had to in this case. The herbivore’s strength was just too enticing to resist.

“I just wanted to say that you’re really great up there. This sort of place has never appealed to me, but your performances gives me chills. You’re a really strong performer!

[ravishinglyravenous]

Ricky had really stepped up the bouncer game since Cosmo joined his crew--there was no room at the Red Chamber for slackers anymore. Couldn’t risk his golden goose being slaughtered on the club floor.

She was quitting the stage after her spotlight for the night when the new bouncer--the quiet tiger who’d been brought in recently--said something to her. Cosmo continued wiping the damp cloth around the back of her head, to cool herself off, as she replied.

“Thanks, hun. I do my best.” Rex knew Cosmo put in the effort. Back in the day, stripping and dancing had just been something she did because she needed money and it was easy to rake in a few bucks--there’d always be animals who would pay to see a female gyrate on a pole, no matter how artlessly. But since those early days, it had become much more of a profession for her, and she had the physique to prove it--twisting and flipping around like that wasn’t easy!

She cast a quick look over the tiger, pegged her for a young one, and wondered briefly how she ended up here.

“You’re Ricky’s new recruit, huh?” She grabbed the water bottle she’d put backstage earlier and took a long drink. After her main stage performances, Ricky required her off the floor for at least thirty minutes (sometimes more), to give the carnivores time to calm down from her show before she returned to their view. “Welcome to the club.”

[xbox-nun]

Are you okay honey? You've hardly touched my ass

[ravishinglyravenous]

@nouveaunovelist​

[natural-logg]

yeah sex is cool and all but have you ever been right about something

[princeofgodx]

Visit Original Link

If you want it all It’s non negotiable So do as I say If you wanna get the job, you better know who’s the boss

[ravishinglyravenous]

You know Cosmo’s done a dance to WAP

[aesthetic-bih]

[aesthetic-bih]

[yourdearhart]

Active Beastars Roleplayers

Hey! Go ahead and give this a reblog if you are a Beastars RP blog or have a multimuse blog with a Beastars muse!

The RPC is small, so we should make it easier to find each other!

[promptfairy]

❥   𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍     [   𝐀   𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋   𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄   ]  .

designed  for  muses  with  a  bit  of  unresolved  tension between  them ,   but  can  be  used  for  any  circumstances you  see  fit !!  

♡   𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄  :    add   ‘  + 🔁  ’   to  reverse  the  roles .

📖  :    my  muse  discovers  your  muse  reading  a  diary  entry  that  my  muse  wrote  about  yours .

💅  :    your  muse  paints  my  muse’s  nails .

🚿  :    my  muse  accidentally  moans  while  your  muse  washes  their  hair .

👕  :    your  muse  helps  my  muse  get  dressed  after  my  muse  sustains  an  injury  or  illness .

🛏️  :    our  muses  are  forced  by  circumstance  to  share  a  bed  for  the  night .

🧼  :    your  muse  bathes  mine  after  my  muse  sustains  an  injury  or  illness .

🙏  :    our  muses’  hands  brush  as  they  walk  side  by  side .

💢  :    your  muse  picks  mine  up   &   carries  them  over  their  shoulder .

👁️  :    your  muse  is  watching  mine  sleep ,   when  my  muse  suddenly  wakes  up   &   catches  them .

🚬  :    my  muse  steals  a  cigarette   (   or lollipop   )   from  your  muse   &   puts  it  in  their  mouth .

🎐  :    our  muses  slow  dance  together .

🧦  :    your  muse  walks  in  on  my  muse  changing  clothes .

🎀  :   your  muse  brushes  my  muse’s  hair .

💍  :    our  muses  are  mistaken  for  a  couple  by  someone  else .

👔  :    your  muse  notices  that  my  muse’s  shirt  is  open   &   goes  to  ‘  fix  it  ’ .

👗  :    my  muse  sees  yours  all  dressed  up .

🪑  :    my  muse  is   ‘  forced  ’   to  sit  on  your  muse’s  lap   (   due  to  a  lack  of  chairs ,   faulty seatbelt ,  etc .   )

🍆  :    your  muse  makes  a  suggestive  joke  but  my  muse  actually  acts  on  it . 

[gabyphantomhive]

[the-sad-boy]

[bohibohi]

Visit Original Link

Nobody by Mitski but you’re listening to it with one headphone on on the subway going home – this one works best with headphones on

[knowing]

[ravishinglyravenous]

So Cosmo and her parents have kind of a complex dynamic to try to capture in a oneshot, but I just wanted to write a little thing to provide some context for her backstory and issues. Like I mentioned before, Cosmo is not actually her birth name, so it’s not how she’s addressed here.

__________________________________________________________

“If you go now, will you be back for my birthday?”

She stood in the kitchen doorway, skinny arms folded, looking up at Mom with wide, accusing brown eyes. Mom paused only briefly in dropping things into her purse to look down at her calf.

“Nobody cares about your birthday,” she said. “And if they say they do, they’re lying, and they probably want something.”

“I want to go to grandma’s too,” Mary Grace said. 

“Well you can’t,” Mom replied. “Tell your father to pay the damn electrical bill.” Sometimes, Mary Grace threw a fit at this point, yelling about wanting to go to grandma’s, and she would follow Mom to the door until she got into the car and was gone off down the road. That day, she just glared, her little jaw set, her ears back. “And don’t give me that look. You’re not careful, your face will stick that way. Is that what you want? Want to go around looking like you’re sucking on a lemon the rest of your life?”

Mary Grace went on glaring, and when Dad came back to the house, she was sitting cross-legged in the front yard under a wide-leafed bush, staring at the road. The lightly falling rain gathered around the edges of the sleek leaves and dripped into the grass, and off the tips of Mary Grace’s ears. 

Dad looked at the driveway, and at the house, and at Mary Grace, and swore.

“Mom says to pay the damn electrical bill,” Mary Grace reported, ripping up a pinch of grass. 

“Did she say when she was coming back?” Dad asked.

“No. She never says. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t give a shit about us.”

“Watch your language,” Dad said, almost reflexively. “Sure, your mom loves you.”

“No she doesn’t,” Mary Grace said.

Keep reading

[ravishinglyravenous]

nightwontlast​:

                    ‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒‒  Of    course    the    comment    was    hyperbole,      or  he  thought  it  was,    but  still  it  was  troubling  all  the  same  that  she  would  make  it.    He  was  as  aware  as  she  was  what  would  happen  if  she  was  out  on  the  streets.    It  was  part  of  why  he’d  asked  her  in  the  first  place,    the  rest  being  just  decency.

                    .He  had  a  commiserative  grimace  on  his  face,    a  slight  purse  to  his  mouth.    Ears  down.    

                      Deer  were  the  opposite  of  okapis,    elks  included.    Social  to  a  fault,      &    just  as  socially  minded.    Even  such  a  loner  as  he  felt  compelled  to  others.    It  didn’t  help  that  he  was  so  deeply  driven  to  try    &    look  out  for  other  animals  when  he  was  at  his  stone  cold  soberest.    Right  now,    with  booze  in  him  ?    He  would  have  given  her  the  run  of  his  apartment    &    slept  down  in  his  office  if  she  only  asked.

                      ❝  Sounds  like  it  ain’t  treatin’    you  too  good,  ❞        he  commented  sympathetically.    Boy,    what  a  set  of  problems  the  two  of  them  had.    There  wasn’t  a  soul  he  would’ve  wished    ’em  on  if  he  could’ve.    Not  even  on  the  she  —  panther  that  bit  him.        

                        ❝  Don’t  let  it  get,    uh,    get  t’    th’    point  of  bein’    too  much,    yeah  ?  ❞        a  little  inarticulate,    but  blame  the  alcohol  for  that.    The  feeling  to  the  words  still  came  across.         ❝  You  can  let  me  know.  If  it  is.  ❞

“Yeah?” Cosmo turned and blinked those big brown eyes at the elk, too soused to read him accurately, but trying anyway. He seemed like a nice guy, and there were such a lack of nice guys in Cosmo’s world. Free tipped well, but he wasn’t nice. “You gonna come rescue me?” she asked, huffing a little through her nose.

Cosmo had learned a long time ago that no one was ever riding to her rescue--and if they did, it came with a price--but she thought back to the last cervid she’d met in the Black Market. Louis-sama and his lions had snatched her from the jaws of a bear for, seemingly, no reward. Was it a social cervid thing, that they had to reach out to other herbivores? Of course, this guy didn’t seem like he had a gang of dagger-fanged meat-eaters waiting for orders, but the offer seemed genuine.

Maybe he was just having such a rough time it made him feel better to empathize with her. Well, she wouldn’t complain about that, not now. Listening to her whine for free was a generous service.

[ravishinglyravenous]

So Cosmo and her parents have kind of a complex dynamic to try to capture in a oneshot, but I just wanted to write a little thing to provide some context for her backstory and issues. Like I mentioned before, Cosmo is not actually her birth name, so it’s not how she’s addressed here.

__________________________________________________________

“If you go now, will you be back for my birthday?”

She stood in the kitchen doorway, skinny arms folded, looking up at Mom with wide, accusing brown eyes. Mom paused only briefly in dropping things into her purse to look down at her calf.

“Nobody cares about your birthday,” she said. “And if they say they do, they’re lying, and they probably want something.”

“I want to go to grandma’s too,” Mary Grace said. 

“Well you can’t,” Mom replied. “Tell your father to pay the damn electrical bill.” Sometimes, Mary Grace threw a fit at this point, yelling about wanting to go to grandma’s, and she would follow Mom to the door until she got into the car and was gone off down the road. That day, she just glared, her little jaw set, her ears back. “And don’t give me that look. You’re not careful, your face will stick that way. Is that what you want? Want to go around looking like you’re sucking on a lemon the rest of your life?”

Mary Grace went on glaring, and when Dad came back to the house, she was sitting cross-legged in the front yard under a wide-leafed bush, staring at the road. The lightly falling rain gathered around the edges of the sleek leaves and dripped into the grass, and off the tips of Mary Grace’s ears. 

Dad looked at the driveway, and at the house, and at Mary Grace, and swore.

“Mom says to pay the damn electrical bill,” Mary Grace reported, ripping up a pinch of grass. 

“Did she say when she was coming back?” Dad asked.

“No. She never says. It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t give a shit about us.”

“Watch your language,” Dad said, almost reflexively. “Sure, your mom loves you.”

“No she doesn’t,” Mary Grace said.

“She does.”

“She doesn’t.”

“Of course she does, she’s your mother.”

“So? What’s that got to do with anything?” Dad didn’t have an answer for that, but Mary Grace got up and followed him inside anyway. 

“Is there anything for dinner?” he asked.

“Mom said I could have the leftover plantains from breakfast,” she sulked, leaning back against the wall. Dad wasn’t paying attention though; Mary Grace could tell. They thought if they answered her, it meant they were paying attention, but it wasn’t true--the sound of their voices and the line of their eyes gave it away. He was looking at the mail.

“Good.”

“I don’t want fried plantains for dinner,” Mary Grace complained, drawing her voice out in a way she knew was especially irritating.

“Rex’s balls, then order yourself some damn takeout,” Dad snapped, heading for the stairs with the fistful of mail from the table by the door. “You’re ten goddamned years old Mary Grace, you can find yourself something to eat.”

“Nine!” Mary Grace shouted up the stairs. “I’m nine!” Grinding her teeth, she muttered, “I’m ten tomorrow.” With Dad’s permission, she climbed onto a chair to get to the phone, and ordered from the only place she’d ever been permitted to order from, because it was cheap. 

Dad came back downstairs after Mary Grace had spread the open takeout boxes around the table and settled herself at the head. Dad was right--she’d just come up with her own pre-birthday dinner (even if it wasn’t her who was paying for it). Doing it herself was the best way to make sure it happened. 

“What’d you get?” he asked, reaching for a box.

“Madesu,” she answered. “And fufu. And that one’s sombe.” Dad layered a few cassava leaves on his plate, and then heaped most of the rest of the food onto them.

“What are you doing for your birthday tomorrow?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Mary Grace replied. “Birthdays are stupid.” 

“Nothing? Not even a movie?” Dad gave her a surprised look, and Mary Grace perked up.

“I dunno.” She shuffled her feet. “I dunno.”

“You want to go to the movies?” Dad asked.

“...yeah, I guess,” she said, watching him even as her nose was still pointed towards her plate. 

“Then we’ll go to the movies,” Dad said. Mary Grace immediately straightened up and lifted her chin.

“Really?” 

“It’s not every day you hit two digits,” Dad pointed out. “You’ll be there for a while.” 

“’til I turn a hundred,” she said with a little grin, swishing her tail. 

“I think that’s worth a movie, don’t you?”

“Yes!” When they were done eating, Dad helped her clean up, and since Mom was out, there it was quiet downstairs when she went up to her room. Suddenly, birthday #10 was looking quite a bit more promising. 

[killadelphia]