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Kelleyyy 🦊

@kelleyyyart.bsky.social

79 followers 280 following 130 posts

lvl 26 | she/it ΘΔ 🏳️‍⚧️ struggling artist, collector of kinks so many animals,,, may post/repost NSFW (always tagged) | 🔞 18+ only! please consult the owner's manual before performing maintenance on your fox

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Kelleyyy 🦊 @kelleyyyart.bsky.social · Oct 17

hello!
I'm kelley, a transfem furry artist looking for a new spot for my art!

I'll be posting my archive and new art here when I have the time!

I hope you all enjoy and that your days treat you with kindness 💜

#furryart #furry #digitalart

16:9 digital art titled "BREAK FREE" that I made after starting hrt. kelley is a light gray zoroark with dark gray fur. she is falling backwards into a city colored like the trans pride flag. there are pieces of black glass bordered by white around kelley and she is facing a large black wall.

kelley is owned by me

16:9 digital art of kelley standing in latex clothes and sunglasses with a suggestive pose. kelley is a light gray zoroark with dark gray fur. she's looking over her shoulder to the right. the background is themed like the matrix.

kelley is owned by me

kelley sitting cross legged while she draws something on her drawing tablet with a blush on her face and ears. kelley is a light gray zoroark with a dark gray mane and a purple bead holding her mane together. the background is light purple with the word "DRAGONS" scribbled all over the wall

Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

Sebastian @sebdoggo.bsky.social · 19d

Trans joy will always exist because I exist, amd I am filled with it.

A painting of a white and pink jackalope wearing a spiked collar. Behind the jackalope is the transgender pride flag and text that read "TRANS JOY Will Always Exist Because I Exist And I Am Filled With It"

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Kelleyyy 🦊 @kelleyyyart.bsky.social · 14h

DUDE
WHAT
absolute life saver omg

Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

weird avali @squeakyferret.bsky.social · Feb 17

sometimes putting on a new latex suit your particularly kinky bf gave you can have some unexpected results. Though after the inital shock subsides, you'll surelyfind yourself more comfortable and agreeable than before.
commissioned by @smallerbirb.bsky.social for his bf.
#dronification #hypno #drone

an anthro bird wearing a fullbody catsuit with neon glowing bits tensing up as their visor blasts them with unexpected hypnotising spirals they cannot look away from

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Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

nikki 🔞 @pinkshinyhorns.bsky.social · 1d

greeting

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たろー @tontarotaro.bsky.social · 2d

ゆらゆら🦊

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Shoomka 🔒 @shoomka.bsky.social · 3d

50 days in the c-cage 💦

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Aio!! @softsnax.bsky.social · 3d

Acceptance

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The Dragon 🐉 @kusariibites.bsky.social · Feb 10

cw: vore, implied digestion

Again and again and again… no matter how hard you try, you just can’t get past this one boss.

Not that Retro’s complaining, of course~ Perhaps you’ll eventually give up, and let her keep you… (Coloured)

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Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

Caou @midnightlycanroc.bsky.social · 3d

Click, huff the Midnight away
🎨| @shinywark.bsky.social

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Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

crepuscular sleazecoat ☉∇ ☣ 🏜️ 🔜 BLFC @coyote.tel · 4d

PROJECT: NUZ ZINEZERO.5

Howdy!! I updated our nonhuman information zine for more information about physical nonhumanity and some change in grammar, plus a couple new pieces of my writing! This is made in the hopes of helping others better understand nonhumanity!

RTs appreciated!!

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Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

Ankle-biting Meerkat @techk.at · 4d

Not sure if many know, but considering it is Cybersecurity Awareness Month, this might just feel fitting.

If you ever come across a website that does a CloudFlare security prompt, and it asks you to "copy" something - DON'T. This is an attempt to get you to run malware. It's becoming more common.

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Kelleyyy 🦊 @kelleyyyart.bsky.social · 4d

life saver omg

Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

BIRDBRAIN 🔞 @vurrsys.bsky.social · 5d

NO BUT SERIOUSLY THIS IS HOW I DO IT. I SEPARATE THEM INTO 3 DIFFERENT PARTS AND IT MAKES IT A LOT EASIER

a diagram showcasing different bird beaks with their lines color-coded

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Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

Velvet (Starlight) @onedumbmouse.bsky.social · Mar 17

"I don't even like paws..."
"That can and will be fixed."

artwork of an anthro feminine-looking mouse with its face up against the crotch of a pov viewer. the viewer is wearing a chastity cage as the mouse is panting taking a break from cleaning the viewers balls. the mouse is huffing and whining and has spirals in its eyes. the offscreen viewer is saying: "Aww, what's wrong Mouse, too dumb to figure out how to get to your treat? Good, that's above your place anyways. So why don't you get down there and clean my paws. Nice and thorough too, that's going to be your new fascination."

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Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

Stove @thestove2.bsky.social · 24d

CW - Vore, Macro/Micro, Bad End

I'm not sure what we were thinking, three kobolds fighting an evil boss a hundred time our size!!
(Finally a boss where my team couldn't carry me to victory, my "bad" end hunt can continue :D)

Feat. @alsnapz.bsky.social
Art by @thekoboldking.bsky.social
<3
#Vore

Nora getting defeated and then gobbled up by Alsnapz, there is a generic video game UI with status effects.

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Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

Shimi ·⃝⃤ @shimi.bsky.social · 17d

New zine: “Look Into My Eyes One Last Time”

A final love letter to the self I shed
A prayer for the creature. Becoming
A reckoning, a surrender. Homecoming

This is my deepest wish laid bare—needle, fur, breath, & mercy. Being held with a care I never found.

#AnimalHRT #Therianthropy #ShortStory

[Art on Page] A detailed graphite drawing of a wolf’s eyes. One, the left is more formed than the right — indicating a near but not complete transition. The fur around them is dense and wispy, rendered in fine pencil lines that suggest softness and depth. The eyes are highly realistic and expressive, staring directly outward with intense, soulful focus. They seem alert but ancient—wide with instinct, watching as if waiting for something to begin. The drawing fades at the edges into blank white space, giving the eyes a floating, disembodied presence.

Look into my eyes one last time

Look into my eyes. Hold them close until you can see the last scrap of me — the part that counts thoughts in lists, that weighs choices against rules, that folds shame into tidy, human-shaped pockets. Watch it loosen. Watch the corners of doubt unhook themselves like small animals from a net and dart away. There is no melodrama here, no violent yanking; it slips. The human mind peels like old bark, and underneath, the thing that always was settles warm and terrible and simple.
They give me the last injection in a room that smells faintly of cedar and lemon. No needles, no cold clinical lecture — only the careful hands of doctors, veterinarians and nurses who know which bones to cradle and which stories to leave untold. I breathe. I lost the ability to count days back. I let the bracing liquid be a gate, not an instruction manual. I do not want to name it; names are the thin net that caught me for years.
The burn is a rumour. It goes through me sideways — a quiet rearrangement, like a convent bell that signals not death but a calling. My limbs answer first. They stop thinking of movement and begin to remember it: how to fold, to coil, to push.

Tendons unlearn the polite phrasing of two-legged steps and curve toward the old, fourfold geometry of running. My hands tighten and flatten; the knuckles find a new logic. Fur prickles along my forearms as if a thousand small moths take flight together and settle again. Each hair is a note in a chord I’ve felt… no… known in my bones since childhood.
Look again. See how the pupils widen, how the whites retreat like a shy moon. My last maps of metaphor — the maps that turned hunger into lists and longing into projects — dissolve. Where there had been a ledger of self, there is now only the immediate ledger of scent and sound and the earth’s exact tilt beneath my weight. I do not mourn the maps. I never used them as well as the human world predicted and as I pretended.
Sound changes. Those little, trivial noises of the room condense into a chorus: the slow tick of breath in the person beside me, the whisper of fabric, the distant wet confluence of gutters. And underneath that: a low, patient life-frequency — root and soil and river. It is not music so much as an acknowledgment. I find I can hear the insect conversation inside the walls, the sap walking up the birch, the small, stupid heartbeat of a mouse two blocks away. There is an intimacy to it that is almost rude.
Breath becomes work and worship at once. My ribcage narrows, then widens in ways I know but cannot name. Milk memories — a thing to shame into silence when human — rise like a tide: the cadence of suckling, the doctrinal simplicity of being called to feed and to protect. A swelling around my belly that is not fat but purpose.
I think of my children who never were, of the packs I have loved in mute pieces. The notion of motherhood is larger than gender; it is a compass with teeth. My children! You are my children and you are my all!

My jaw shifts. I feel the slow, inevitable rearrangement — a socket loosens, a hinge finds its voice. A tooth erupts where an organised thought had lived. The smell of iron, rain-damp soil, and sleeping bodies that have waited for me — flooding my mouth like saliva.
Tears come and I do not know if they are human or creature; they taste of salt and release. There is a tenderness in my own trembling that I have never allowed before.
Outside the window, someone whose scent I knew laughs and it sounds to me like a distant bell. The handlers murmur: careful, gentle, let her and her pack decide. My mouth forms the shape and bark of guttural assent I could not voice when I was wholly human. Somewhere a crate opens as if the world is taking a breath with me.
They will test me further, yes. They will see whether my newness walks toward the wild or clings to the small, safe hands of fosterers who will teach me boundaries, how to pass in a world of paved things. I do not fear them. I am no longer wrapped in that ledger — of consent, of cost, of consequence. I am wrapped in appetite and mercy. The choice, if there is one, feels less like an argument and more like a direction: toward den or home, toward the kill lovingly taken or the bowl lovingly given.
Look once more. There is no human drama in my eyes now — only depth, like a riverbed where stones remember every footstep. The last scrap of thought, the tiny librarian of my life who loved lists, things and order, exhales and steps back through the doorway we are leaving open. I feel it go, and where it is gone there is fullness, a pulse that answers the creature’s call without translation.
This is not a loss. It is not my obliteration. It is the solving of a long, clenched equation. I am not lessened. I am finally the shape I have been learning.
Look into my eyes, one last time.
I am awakening.

— Shimi & Critter
@shimi.bsky.social

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Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

Geary @gearydigit.bsky.social · 7d

Geary was having a great run in a high-level dungeon, soloing right up until the end boss... only to lose and get hit with a nasty curse. From there, working their way back out of the dungeon proved... problematic. But don't worry, the effect will wear of in... uh oh...

🎨@thekoboldking.bsky.social

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Kelleyyy 🦊 @kelleyyyart.bsky.social · 8d

I think just about the only things that don't work on linux at this point are things specifically tuned to block linux players from online play. oh and changed for some reason.

Reposted by Kelleyyy 🦊

Jintally!! @jintally.bsky.social · Jan 20

sweat rag

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Jintally!! @jintally.bsky.social · 9d

The storerooms of the Stuff-a-Plush can get a bit steamy at night… (for @moofahdrome.bsky.social)

A chimera girl is pinned to a table in the back of a plushie-making store, with five colorful plushies undressing and touching her. The one on top gazes deep into her eyes, setting her mind adrift…
“You take such care of us plushies…”
“Why don’t you let us take care of you, hmm?”
“This is where you belong…”
“A toy for your toys…”
“You’ve had a very productive week… so you’re going to let us play with you all night long.”

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◼️◼️◼️ ☉∇⚪️🫧 @radiovix.bsky.social · 10d

biggerfox ????

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Atherol @atherol.bsky.social · 10d

Commission for @autumnkoneko.bsky.social !

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TheKoboldKing @thekoboldking.bsky.social · Jun 9

Beware the werewolf's bite

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weird avali @squeakyferret.bsky.social · 12d

Null bulges aren't only a thing for subs. Sometimes a particularly dominant avali likes to null himself to extend the fun times with whatever unfortunate drone has caught his interest.
Better hope he doesnt add a few more hours to his suit.
#avali #rubber #latex #nullge

An avali suited from the neck down in a tight latex suit. He is holding his arms crossed behind his head as he looks disinterested off towards the left. He is illuminated from behind and a little form the glowing padlock decal on his rather large bulge. Said padlock indicates his inability to reach orgasm and get out of the latex suit. While usually meant as a chastity device for subs, he decided to put it on himself to extend whatever fun he has with another, most likely also latex suited, individual. His collar shows a slightly glowing digital timer ticking down from 4 hours and 5 minutes. it is unknown if this is the original timer or if he added a few hours while wearing the suit.

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