five dollar catboys

@salmonking.bsky.social

301 Followers 324 Following

@salmonking on Tumblr. white/mixed (NB). 30 or 40 years old 🔞. I only care about gay little elves. i:@rookiebe b:@neunian

Dale Gribble asking if you're attempting to know him
Cyr in his Inquisitor outfit crying in a comically sad way while clutching a wind up halone
Guy levitating at another guy in a hallway and the guy being levitated at is running away at speed aaah scary and off putting vibe
Tumblr posts that say: if you're an adult man with natural blond hair that's a sign from nature to show that there's something deeply evil going on with you like the brightly colored frogs / if I was attracted to a blond man I'd keep that to myself / and just when you think you've hit rock bottom you want to fuck a blond guy
A pot full of holubky: rolls of overcooked flatulent cabbage and blanched ground meat stewed in a thin tomato sauce that makes every individual roll weep a gory trail.
A catboy with brown skin and white-striped black hair stands in one of the Endwalker dungeons. He's looking to the left. His eyes are a pale, luminous blue much like the aetheric crystals behind him, and he has cute little fangs.
A modified Bluesky post from "Catboy of Light!" reading "when I went to Coerthas everyone was like "oh you're from Ul'dah, so scary" but literally every true crime podcast is about some repressed weirdo from Coerthas believing their kid is a dragon"
A viera (bunny boy) with dark skin and long, wavy white hair leans against a Dhelmise (pokemon), which is inclining slightly toward him. The viera is dressed in a frilly piratical shirt and tight-fitting dark trousers, and is looking impassively at the camera with arms folded. His left eye has a scar across it. The Dhelmise is easily his entire height, and looks like an anchor with seaweed hanging off of it and a ship's wheel behind its eyes. The left eye is shattered.
A Rava viera with dark gray skin and stark white hair, smartly dressed in a little cravat with a collar, reacts with mild surprise to something just off camera
Old man who claims to be thinking about thos Beans in his iconic Facebook post
wayward hooking a spectral bass on his first cast at like level 43 or something
Sad ant with bindle
A Lala with pale skin and yellow undertones, dramatically lit in front of a struggling Godsbow. Her hair is pale white with green highlights on the tips, her eyes are a shining green, and she has little green onion slices drawn on over her pink cheeks. She is simply clad in yellow-brown conjurers' clothes. Her small expression is very serious.
Pain measurement scale with "hurts whole lot" circled
Screencap of an AI scrape search showing the entirety of the post author's work was ingested by AI
Most of the spaces on this bingo card are occupied by Kal's big silly head.
Kal snuggling with M'zhet Tia
A black and gray tabby with a reddish tint to his fur. His large green eyes look upwards toward the viewer.
Nenu menaces an innocent knightly lady who just wanted to have a normal one
A group of ne'er do wells assaulting the walls of Quarrymill with messages of questionable taste.
The Redbelly poachers surround the innocent wall of Quarrymill, which has done nothing wrong except prop up the Gridanian heterodoxy.
A Duskwight woman in a Redbelly Wasp bandit outfit stands in front of their precious wall and holds up a finger excitedly to point to her current location (X24.4 Y21.0 outside of Quarrymill in the South Shroud). A scroll next to her invites you to come and vandalize Quarrymill's walls again on May 3rd, 7 PM EST.
The D&D alignment chart is shown. Kal, Cyr, and M'zhet are all clustered in the neutral good zone, with M'zhet closest to chaotic good. Remi is squarely in Lawful Neutral. Nenu, who is represented by a smudge of green with the word Nenu on it, is somewhere between Chaotic Neutral and Chaotic Evil.
Crafter's master recipes cost three times as much from Rowena's merchants as they do the script exchange lmao
A hastily snapped Frontlines screenshot in which Kalan'klyr Thabi is riding a bomb palanquin behind Honoroit, who is using a flying umbrella to travel and has the title Tablesetter.
Stop saying there are plenty of fish in the sea . Ive got my eye on one specific emotionally distant salmon with commitment issues
Cyr fishing in a spectral current.
The "in a fight, right" meme with Anakin and Padme from Star Wars prequel movie, but it's Kal and Val. Kal asserts cheerfully that he can take the Buduga AND the Oronir, and Val assures him that he sure can. When asked if he means in a fight, Kal only gives her a mischievous look, leaving her to repeat her question mournfully. Both Kal and Val are lovingly rendered icons drawn by hamhamfantasy.bsky.social <3
Remi, a Rava Viera with dark skin and white hair reclines against the wheel of a ship with his arms crossed. He is wearing the Seneschal Prince outfit in its vanilla colors of dark blue-gray with a crimson cape. He looks somewhat dour but quite dapper.
A blue Au Ra guy with black horns and scales holds a fish pie out to the viewer. The pie is baked to perfection, and looks warm and enticing. The Au Ra guy has the expression of a guy who made you a fish pie out of the goodness of his heart.
A picture of Kal looking to the right of the camera. He's wearing a short cropped black and red leather jacket with a red and black choker and Azeyma's earring (shaped like a sun) in his ear. A gunblade is strapped to his back. He looks focused and his eyebrows are drawn together as he opens his mouth to speak.
A trading card style artwork of Remi, who is depicted as a drow with two swords dressed in a jacket and cravat and smirking slightly at the viewer.
A card design depicting a dark elf with white wavy shoulder-length hair and a keen expression. He is dressed smartly in a naval jacket with a cravat. He wears one sword at his hip, and has balanced the other against his right shoulder. A distinctive scar runs along the bottom of his left eye, inviting the viewer to meet his arresting gaze. The flavor text on the card reads, "Remi La Mer; drow, fighter and rogue, lawful neutral." Five stars are given for the intensity stat, four for swordsmanship, and one star for "convincing you he's not a cop." The bottom of the card reads, "A transmasculine drow, swordsman, and former thief, Remi La Mer was once the feared First Mate of the Crimson Drake - until mysterious circumstances cost him his Captain and crew. Now he'll stop at nothing to get them back."
Catboy 5$. Special value.
A freckled green frilled lizard with pierced frills and sunglasses. He is posing energerically against a colorful background.
Text: "Pinned you," Kal observes softly, his voice low and dangerous. "That was what, half a minute? Not bad, I can tell you've been practicing." M'zhet scoffs, shifting his hips up experimentally and wriggling back and forth as though hoping to roll Kal over. It's about as effective as moving a mountain; when Kal decides the match is won, both of them know it's won. "I was going easy on you," M'zhet says breathlessly, both of them well aware of the emptiness in the threat. "That was just a warmup! Best two out of three?
Text: He's too weak to do anything when Kal captures his hands, almost too weak even to gasp when he pulls away from the searing kiss; the heat of his body is immense, and Cyr isn't sure if he's burning up or freezing next to it any longer. All he's sure of is Kal's thigh, steadying, pressed flush against his groin, and the fingers of his hand smoothing the cloth of his undershirt out of the way. He arches into the touch of his hand, squirming and grimacing as though in pain; when Kal touches his face instead, inquiring, he shakes his head. "Keep going?" Kal asks, and Cyr nods; "say if it's too much," he adds, brushing his hand against his lips. "It's not," Cyr murmurs, and then Kal's mouth is upon him again, a revelation. He'd not dared to hope there would be a second time. But Kal is a young god, and Cyr has always been gifted at praying.
Text: Maybe if you're lucky that'll change. You watch the Oronir warrior's face cloud over, his imperious gaze intensifying. "You would mock our ways?" "No, no –" you protest, although your impish grin speaks otherwise, as does the way your tail lifts to lash back and forth. The warrior studies you, as though he's still working out whether to take offense at your words. "You come among us as a warrior," he says finally. "Is it not fitting that we measure our skill against yours to see how you compare before the Nadaam?" "Oh sure, sure," you say, raising your hands in a placating gesture. "Like, it checks out. I'm just saying. It's not the only thing you could be measuring, is all."
Emmanellain's laughter is as tense as you feel. "It isn't the duration which concerns me, you know," he says, and you laugh, too, realizing how awkward this is for both of you. "I know." There's nowhere to look but up at him, nothing else you'd rather be looking at. "If it's too much -- just -- tell me, we can always take a break. I know it's not always easy." As if in answer, Emmanellain puts a hand to the fur of your ear. When you murmur and shut your eyes, pressing your head into the contact, he grows bolder with it, stroking down the length of your fur and ruffling his fingers against the back of your head. You shiver and make the same soft noise again, butting your head up into his hand and begging him wordlessly to keep going. When instead his fingers fall away, you blink up at him stupidly, reproach written in your face.
Text: She could be a hit back home with the lads. Healers unbeholden to the Padjal and their cronies were a rarity, practically unheard of. But first she had to be brought to heel; taught how to keep up, and how to dish out and take the abuse that would mark her days as a bandit. She'd seen the mutinous spark in Rivienne's eyes; she knew it was there. Now she just had to survive the damn mission long enough to cultivate it.