#How Often and How Long Should you Train Your Dog?

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

Let's talk about zoo animal welfare for a second...

(And I want to preface this by saying I have a 4 year Bachelor degree in Animal Science (focusing in welfare and behaviour with a major in Canine and Equine Science) before I got sidetracked into zoo animals and did 3 internships working with wild canids, ungulates and marine mammals - this involved both hands on behaviour modification/desenitisation as well as hands off behavioural observation and welfare study. I worked for 2 years as a marine mammal specialist and worked specifically in facilities to improve husbandry, behavioural training and welfare practises.

I also worked in a facility in the Asia Pacific, working to improve welfare standards for bottlenose dolphins and continued to work with cetacean welfare researchers after this. I also did a course in zoo management, husbandry and welfare and this involved working in an accredited zoo facility learning things like exhibit design, behaviour management and husbandry with multiple species.)

So a few points to say about zoo animal welfare when discussing zoo standards and practises:

The average person does not have the expertise to do behaviour observation and welfare evaluation in zoo animals - that's why when the general public visits a zoo and says "the animal looks sad" it's worth being skeptical of that claim. But it doesn't mean a gut feeling about a zoo's quality can be completely invalid. Just that it might be worth researching further or seeking more information.

However, with experience, it is possible to analyse behaviour in the context of welfare. And context to that behaviour is always important (for example, Moo Deng showing stress related behaviour towards the specific context of being touched or followed around by her keeper - very much an indication of poor handling practises)

Poor animal husbandry and welfare is not limited to specific countries or regions, however it can be more normalised and accepted under the influnce of cultures and laws. Or even just the culture of the zoo itself such as the "this is the way we've always done it" places.

Being an accredited zoo is a start to good welfare, but it doesn't make any sort of welfare concern obsolete. And accreditation is supposed to ensure that welfare concerns are addressed but because they are mostly run as a volunteer based organisation, they often don't have resources to check into every concern (unless it's a government funded organisation)

A zoo contributing to conservation research is great, but not if it is at the expense of the animals' welfare - welfare should always be prioritised, with research and conservation efforts to follow.

Welfare is a state that is in flux. So a negative welfare state can move into positive welfare state under different influences.

There are multiple factors that influence zoo animal welfare: enclosure/habitat, expression of natural behaviour, guest interaction, diet, enrichment, water quality, hygeine ect. It'll rarely just be one factor, though it does depend how salient that factor is.

Just because a keeper or management of a zoo have been there for a long time, doesn't mean they can't be criticised - it is possible to be still using outdated practises and believing in methodologies and management practises that need updating - that's the whole point of continued education

Having limited resources can often impact welfare. Giving a facility the resources they need to improve is a good start to improving welfare.

Even if an animal is being handled in an inappropriate way for a short time, that doesn't mean that can't have long term implications for welfare eg. if every time your dog jumped on you when you got home and you smacked him in the face once before going on with your day, that doesn't mean that your dog won't learn negative associations with your arrival just because it was one time.

Best practise husbandry of zoo animals involves:

Use of positive reinforcement based voluntary husbandry and health care

All interaction based on choice and voluntary interaction that is reinforced with primary reinforcement such as food

Mostly hands off approaches for the species that require them (ungulates, large primates, large carnivores)

Relatively stable social groups with aggression only in specific situations/contexts that are normal for the species

Back areas for animals to rest outside of public view

Species appropriate habitats to meet species specific behaviour requirements

Five freedoms of welfare being met but goes above and beyond the bare minimum

Poor zoo animal husbandry involves animals:

Being forced into anything such as presentations, education programs, medical procedures/gating

Any use of physical punishment such as chasing, slapping, pushing or poking - negative reinforcement such as bull hooks are also fairly outdated in handling species like elephants

Being excessively handled, chased and touched/restrained for no reason (eg. for social media videos)

Showing signs of avoidance and aggression constantly towards their keepers

Have constant conflict happening in their social groups

Are living in enclosures that are not suitable for their specific specific needs - size is only one factor in this. Substrate, habitat design, water quality ect. are also things to consider.

Are too close to the public/at risk from the public

Have no areas to retreat from the public/rest away from potential stressors

Have no enrichment program/no daily enrichment

Those are all flags that there could be some poor welfare happening and that a zoo is not prioritising welfare

Okay there's the ramble of the day done. Feel free to ask questions for further clarification if needed.

[diz-eaze]

; yandere albedo.

the people of mondstadt know you. born and raised in the city of freedom, they've seen you grow from a small, boundless child into the refined adult you are today. your next door neighbor practically knows your daily routine by now: at 7:00AM you'll open your room window to let in the fresh air, then get ready. by 7:30AM you'll come barreling out of your house, dressed in your uniform and already heading off to the knights of favonius' headquarters as the acting grandmaster's assistant.

sara from good hunter will have your breakfast-to-go already prepared by the time you drop by. your usual, she'd say with a smile as she hands it off to you. you greet the local bard with gradient hair, and you'll bow down in respect should you encounter the cavalry captain, kaeya. amber high fives you by the headquarters entrance, and you encourage noelle when you see her struggling with training.

in your free time, you'll patrol around the peaceful city, looking out for any civilians that need the knights of favonius for mundane help. you encounter sneaky cats, dogs begging for treats, and dandelions scattering in the cool breeze. by sunset, you drop by timaeus' alchemy bench to see what he's been up to, and then retreat back to your little house.

you leave your mark on mondstadt that way, little bits and pieces of you are constructed together from countless interactions every single day.

they know you from your uniform to your civilian clothes. they know you from the type of smile you wear down to the subtle flinch you do when conflict brews.

though, from your recent behavior, it seems their belief in knowing you stands incorrect. an eerily quiet day passed through the city without any citizen seeing you at least once. the day after that, your odd behavior began.

your mouth struggles with the intonation of common mondstadtian tongue. your legs often give out on you mid-walk, and you stand up shakily, reminiscent of a newborn fawn. your memory is hazy, struggling to correctly place names onto people you've known for years. sometimes, you even look surprised when addressed by your own name.

it's... so very odd. you're like a newborn, in a weird, roundabout way.

but soon enough, your oddity begins to wane off. as if the puzzle pieces of you were all merely scattered to the ground, and it was only a matter of time before you piece it all back together to return to your former self.

you melt into your former routine, as if nothing ever happened. your neighbor sees you punctually leave at 7:30AM, sara gives you your breakfast, you greet venti, and you bow down 90 degrees when you see kaeya. amber high-fives you, and noelle is appreciative of your support. you patrol and help citizens, you drop by timaeus' stall, and go back home when the sun is no longer visible.

your previous behavior looks like a rough patch amidst the seamless silk that is your life. it was certainly a weird era for you, and people brush it off as a delirium of some sickness.

everything is fine. you're back to normal, and that's all that matters.

albedo knows you, more than anyone in mondstadt could ever hope to do so. they know you by your uniform and civilian clothes. they know you by your mannerisms. but albedo knows your inner wardrobe, the articles of clothing that you've yet to show to the public. he knows what makes you tick and what brings you joy. he knows the psychology behind your mind, why you do the things that you do.

they all claim to know you, but he deems that as a false statement.

anyone who truly knows you would know by now that the you in mondstadt is nothing more than a fake - an imitation, created by his own hands. a synthetic human being just like him. their claim of knowledge on you is nothing more than surface-level information; they never bothered to dive into the whirlpool that is you.

had it been him on the clueless end, he would've sniffed out the imposter long ago, because of how deeply invested he is in your identity and existence. he would know just from a glance, a simple overlook of your imitation, before he deems it to be counterfeit.

yet they never even paused to think why you were gone for a day without an excused leave beforehand, why you started acting different.

it was reckless, he'll admit. he should have taught the synthetic you properly before dropping it off in mondstadt. should've fed it everything he knew about you. but it leaves a bitter taste on his synthetic tongue when he thinks about your imitation knowing just as much as him about you. this being is not you, despite the 1:1 appearance.

in the end, he chose to drop the being off to mondstadt just hours after successfully creating it. it'll learn through its environment and grow to adapt, he's sure of it.

ignorance is bliss; a peaceful slumber. he'll let the people of mondstadt believe that the person they're with from now on is the real you. not that albedo has any complaints about their denseness, however, things are better this way.

this serves as proof that albedo is the only one who loves the true you.

the original (Y/N), stranded high up on the snow-covered mountain that is dragonspine. he's your only source of company, the only one capable of lighting a bonfire and putting a thick blanket on you. your hands are bound behind you, a safety measure until he deems you trustworthy enough to untie in the near future.

your new home is here, in dragonspine, where you'll learn to live and love the relentless blizzard and frequent snowstorms. his trips down to mondstadt are cut considerably short, for he aches to part from you. he starts to bring more equipment and items back to the camp to provide you with entertainment.

and when night falls, once he sees you deep in sleep, he'll gently raise the blanket so that he can worm into your warm embrace. a safe haven that is incomparable to the bonfire crackling a few feet away.

if there's one thing he's grateful to his imposter for, it'd be implanting the idea of a replacement in his head.

AKA; you've heard of albedo creating a synthetic baby from a single strand of your hair, now have an albedo who created a synthetic (Y/N) so that the real one stays with him <3

[bunny-jpeg]

puppy hybrid!simon (18+)

inspirations taken from this post

price had to go away for a little while, which was hard to tell his favourite puppy! he had only recently taken you in and it was hard for him to leave you behind. you were all mopey and sad eyes a week before he left. originally he was going to have you stay at a hybrid daycare for the duration of his time away.

but johnny had another idea! he said that he'd watch you! he joked that if he could handle the mutt hybrid he called simon, he could handle a purebred like you. with your floppy ears and cute tail!

you were so well behaved and price was so proud of you. he made sure anything you needed was packed up for your little "trip" to visit johnny and simon.

johnny wasn't as good of a owner as he propositioned to price. he went out to the bar with kyle for an evening, which left price's pretty (expensive) puppy with the bully mixed mutt that was simon.

didn't take long for the much larger hybrid to almost tear off your cute little clothes and just fuck you. he had his arm around your middle as he pushed his cock as far as it could go. he knew he was hitting up against your cervix.

he chuckled, "gonna make a new breed of puppy with you." his voice was low and grumbled, it made you soaked between your legs as he stretched out your poor little cunt.

when you thought that he was done, he enjoyed when you'd scamper off to go pee or get some water. it only encouraged him to sniff out his mate, as if the trail of his cum leaking down your leg didn't make it easy enough.

he made a face when he saw the trail, it should be in you, little pup! not all over the hardwood floor! eventually he had you over the couch, behind the kitchen island, in the bathroom and finally in simon's bed where he could smother your purebred scent with his.

johnny knew he was fucked when he came home the next morning and found you naked under a partially clothed simon. your belly a bit swollen from the gallons of hybrid cum stuffed in there.

"price, i'm so sorry. i didn't know, i thought he was well behaved!" johnny looked pale when price came home to get you.

you were curled up in simon's arms in the doggy bed. gone were the cute pink bows and little outfits, you were swimming in simon's cheap black t-shirt with a motorcycle on it. but even price could see the slight slope in your belly.

"but, price!" you whined when your owner tried to pull you away from the mutt, as last ditch effort to save you. you kicked out your little legs, "i love him."

the older man sighed. spoiled little puppy. he ended up taking in simon too, he saw how anxious you were without your mate. johnny promised the dog hybrid to visit often but simon was too busy snuggled up with his new missuses (sorry johnny!). now price has two hybrids to take care of plus whatever was slumbering in your belly.

you were still price's little puppy, even if your attention was split between owner and mate. when you ate at the table to eat, you'd give simon a light smack on the hand if he was eating like a prisoner. you pouted your lips and shook your head.

simon sighed and took you by the head to kiss one of your soft ears, "sorry, love." at least price didn't have to train the mutt, you were doing the hard work for him.

simon followed you like a shadow, protective of his mate. and even the home you inhabited. you'd often lie on the doggy bed with simon behind you, large hand on your swollen middle and his lips at the back of your neck. but the mutt wasn't fully house trained. there had been a few times that price would be watching the football game and he could hear the whines of his beloved puppy, only to look over and see simon just pinning you down and rutting against you.

"bad dog." price grumbled as he tried to grab simon by the collar, "she's already pregnant, you animal!"

but price had to admit, you were rather cute all pregnant. if anything your floppy ears only got softer, your smile on wider. price had just wished you picked a mate of a higher caliber.

he wouldn't mind puppies, but you were of a softer breed. you shouldn't have ended up with a bully of a dog. but price had to (begrudgingly) admit, it was nice to know when he went out that there was guard dog in the house.

that didn't mean he was the biggest fan of simon.

"get off of her, simon." price rolled up the newspaper to wack the mutt hybrid, "she's got no room in her for that. she's already swimming in puppies!"

simon growled and just fucked between your thighs until he made a mess of himself. the older man looked at the hybrid and the hybrid looked back in defiance.

you on the other hand were sound asleep on the doggy bed, covered in simon's cum. even that stretch marked lined belly was too.

price was only in his late thirties, he thought he was a little young to be a grandfather figure to the rowdy puppies that you give birth to. all with your beautiful eyes but the personality and points ears of their father.

"i need another drink."

[zooophagous]

I'm gonna be contrarian here for a minute and rant about "cats aren't even good pest control."

Which, one study that found cats don't do well against rats is not the be all end all of reality. A cat may not go after Norway rats, which are large and aggressive, no. An adult male wild Norway rat is large enough to give almost any cat a run for its money.

But Norway rats aren't the only thing that exist and get into houses and barns. It is very cold where I live, and while I see mice and packrats and voles, I have never once seen a wild RAT. Wild RATS don't get into my garage. Deer mice do. Bushy tailed pack rats do.

And you know what fixed it?

My cat. He's not even an outdoor cat. He's 100% indoors, or in the garage but only with the door closed so he can't leave.

He single handedly removed my packrat problem. I didn't need to resort to poisons and while I did set traps, none of them had even half of his success rate. Cats were domesticated primarily because of how good they are at catching small rodents. Their success knocked other animals such as trained ferrets off the popular spot for the task. Claiming a cat is useless as pest control is just plain not true.

Cats are decent pest control WITHIN CERTAIN PARAMETERS. They're good for certain types of small pest, and cats need ro be CONTAINED. Much like poisons, you can't just throw cats around willy nilly because they'll kill a shitload of non target animals.

A barn or shop cat is a good option for long term mouse control *if* it is actually confined to that barn or shop and not free to just leave. A semi feral cat that lives in a large warehouse and is vaccinated and desexed and vetted and kills whatever tiny pests get in to chew on stuff is the best case scenario for an adopted feral.

What I do NOT get however, is the insistence that terriers are better and you should just get one of those.

A dog is not an easy animal to keep and nor is it one you should go purchase because you want long term pest control in your barn. If you want a pest control solution call an externinator. If you want a dog that's intelligent and driven and needs dedicated training and care and you're happy to put in the energy to actually focus its chaotic energy into something useful then go get a ratting terrier.

These little dogs do not fill the same niche as a barn cat and their care is quite a bit more intense in general especially if the dog is going to be a house pet as well as a worker. They're intense and destructive and can and will pick fights, often fatal fights, with other animals. Stop telling people to go get one when all they need is to get some squirrels out of a shed. Buying a dog and buying pest control are not the same thing.

You could *hire* a ratter to do a sweep, but unless you're also removing the conditions that made your property popular with rats to begin with you're going to have to keep bringing them back.

The kind of people who leave feral cats outside to roam and breed freely are the last fucking people who have any business keeping a working line terrier.

[machveil]

I’m kinda obsessed with your guard dog Simon x puppy reader😭how does Simon punish reader when he thinks she’s being naughty or not listening to his orders?? 😩

you know what, I’m also obsessed with GuardDog!Simon Riley x Puppy!Reader low-key high-key

CW: slight oral fixation, suggestive

GuardDog!Simon Riley doesn’t dish out punishments too often, he knows puppies get excited sometimes, wander off without batting an eye. when you leave his side he knows, cold gaze always following you, he waits for a moment before tailing after you. he likes to see if you’ll notice that you’ve walked away from him, and when you do he likes seeing you scramble back to his side. if you keep wandering away from him, on purpose or by accident, Simon will slip his arm around your neck. beefy bicep and strong forearm acting like a collar, making sure you stay with him

GuardDog!Simon Riley won’t do anything to embarrass you in public, but he isn’t afraid to lightly reprimand you. if you tease him for too long, a little too much, his chest will rumble - a deep, gravelly warning hum to knock it off. Simon doesn’t give you orders often, he’s more than pleased to follow your commands, but when you ignore his grumbled ‘quit it’? maybe, he thinks, it’s because his little puppy needs attention. he hasn’t been neglecting you, has he? surely not, he’s been by your side this entire trip, he’s kept you tucked against his side as you walked. but giving you a little attention wouldn’t hurt

GuardDog!Simon Riley who leads you to a quiet corner of the mall you’re in - a neglected hallway with benches and a humming vending machine. he’ll sit with his back to the hallway entrance, blocking the view of the outside world from you. just you and your mutt. it’s not a real punishment, he wouldn’t do that to you in the open, but this is good enough for now. “Open.”, voice low, he hums when you pout, seemingly trying to play indifferent. he likes the way your shoulders slope when he gently grabs your chin, thumb resting on your lip, “Open, pup?”. a gentler tone, one that has you breathing a little slower, opening your mouth for him slightly

a little attention, something to get your act together. GuardDog!Simon Riley who pushes his index and middle finger into your mouth, lets you dumbly suck on them while he pets your hair. easy to please, it always makes his heart squeeze when your eyelids droop, lashes fluttering as you melt. he doesn’t care if drool and spit run down his hand, Simon just watches over you - like a good dog should. his pretty little puppy, whining when Simon mumbles ‘release’. but you’re finally listening to him again, pulling off his fingers with spit slick lips. it always works in his favor, having you relaxed and little dumb. it makes it easier for him to keep you by his side, or walking in front of him to hide the tent in his pants

CW: Fem!Reader, Simon being a little condescending, ‘pup’ and ‘good girl’, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm denial

GuardDog!Simon Riley who gets you into bed when you get home. he doesn’t want to hurt his precious little pup, spanking you wouldn’t feel right to him. no, Simon bends you over his lap for a different reason. “Can’t protect you if ya keep runnin’ off.”, voice low and raspy, he smoothes his hand over your plush ass, tutting when you squirm. just a little training, something to get you to behave next time you go out with Simon. spitting on his fingers, he hums, “Good pups listen, yeah?”. his free hand is running through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as his middle finger dips into your cunt

he’s not being mean, he’s just trying to help you! good girls who listen get to come. he shushes you when you whine and moan a little too loud, presses your face against his sheets as he bullies his index finger into your heat, “I know, feels so good.”. it makes your brain melt, eyes screw shut - how softly he pets your hair and murmurs to you, how his fingers blur a bit from how fast he’s pumping into you. on the verge of sweet bliss when he pulls his hand away, sends you spiraling with a cry, “No.”. a low, rumbled command. he knows you’re smart, can do a trick for him, “Count.”

every time he denies you, you sob out another number - starting over when you lose track. thighs a slick mess as he abuses your poor cunt, stopping short of you orgasm for the umpteenth time, “Good, bein’ so pretty f’me. How many was tha’, pup?”. and when you finally blubber out ‘ten’ - even though that’s not a completely accurate count after hours of messing up - he feels pride warm his chest. “Good girl, can my dumb puppy beg?”, he can’t help the way his cock chubs up, achingly hard when you plead with him. a good guard dog makes sure you’re safe and sound, so Simon holds you close as he fucks his fingers into you, thumbing at your clit as you’re finally allowed release, “Don’t go runnin’ off again, got it?”

[sannasruins]

you had a choice

mark grayson x reader

type: angst, unrequited feelings, honestly idk

warnings: reader is the one with unrequited feelings, gn!reader but term "other girl" is used

a/n: i made the reader a bit more complicated in this fic, i honestly don't think they are wholly right in their approach, but are acting human and in a way i think many including myself might act. also i tried to keep to the cannon time line of season one but i haven't watched it in a few months and am basing it off the wiki so if there are any mistakes, don't at me

word count: 2.1k

You had known Mark since the two of you were young children, with your mother being a famous superhero, she and omni-man often socialized. You would attend his birthday parties, go on play dates with him, and as the two of you got older, his house would become a refuge for you when yours was empty. The two of you would play Mario Kart and Wii Sports in his living room, ordering pizza and talking about the newest Seance Dog comic that was out.

You were there to watch him grow, and change from the Mark that you had known to the Mark that he is today. There when he had his first crush in middle school, and when your chest weirdly hurt when he told you about her, you assumed you were just jealous at the idea of him spending time with someone more than you, and that it was nothing else.

But, you became more aware of him, flushing red when he leaned in close to you to see what you were holding or to murmur a comment to you under his breath. Blushing when he complimented you on a high score in a game or congratulated you for getting a good grade on a hard test. You would try to look nice around him, wearing pretty clothes and using the expensive perfume you got for your birthday. You would laugh at every joke he made, even if they weren’t especially funny, and you always smiled when you saw him.

He never noticed all your efforts though, poor oblivious Mark.

As the two of you entered high school, you started to notice the way some other girls would look at Mark, they looked at him almost in the same way that you did. But you told yourself that they didn’t know him like you did, they were not justified in their longing gazes.

You were there for Mark, his only peer he could talk to as he struggled with his lack of powers and feelings of letting down his father. Nobody else could support him in the way that you could, and did. You understood his struggle, being the child of a super hero yourself, you had expected that one day you would have powers manifest, but they hadn’t come yet if they were going to come at all.

And you were there to celebrate when he did get his powers, jumping with joy, holding his hands and telling him how proud of him you were, and how you knew he was going to be such a great hero.

When mark met Amber, you felt something form in your stomach, it was hard and it was cold, and every time you saw him looking at her, you were made aware of its freezing presence inside of you.

When you found out that Mark had managed to get a study date with Amber, the thing in your stomach seemed to double in size, filling you with bitter iciness that you didn’t fully understand. You tried to dissuade him from the date, telling him that he doesn’t need to be worrying about dating when he just got his powers, he should be training and starting his hero reputation.

“Thank you for your advice,” he told you, “But I don’t really think you could even understand what you’re talking about, its not like you have powers to speak from experience.”

His words bit at you, and he saw the hurt on your face, and he immediately felt regret for his harsh words.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed running a hand through his dark locks, “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that, I really like her, and you trying to dissuade me just isn’t cool with me.”

You nodded and apologized to him too, saying you’ll keep your opinion out of his choice of dates and dating.

You were there when he told you about the kiss he had shared with Amber in his bedroom, talking about how sweet and understanding she was, despite the fact that he had left her for over an hour on their date with no explanation to go save Mt. Rushmore.

You again felt the chill in your stomach spread, reaching up to wrap its way around your chest.

“That’s great Mark, I’m glad it went well.” You smiled and told him, but neither he nor really you noticed that your words weren’t truthful.

You watched as he grew closer to Amber, despite his erratic behavior with being a hero, and he would gush to you all the time about how it was going with her, and how much he liked her, and so on.

And as he went through the trials and tribulations of being both a boyfriend and a superhero, you found yourself, someone who used to spend hours upon hours with him, the person who was once closest to him, being pushed to the side, forgotten, and neglected.

He would cancel the plans the two of you had made to reschedule a date with Amber that he had missed or messed up.  

When Amber dumped him after Mark didn’t show up to volunteer at the community center because he was out saving the world and got severely injured. You were the one at his bedside, holding his hand and tearfully looking at your best friend’s bruised and battered face.

You were called by Debbie and told that he had woken up, you rushed to his side, relief flooding over you as your eyes met his, and you smiled at him and sat down on his hospital bed.

The first thing he asked you however, brought back the freezing pit that you had forgotten since he had been so badly injured.

“How’s Amber?”

Your face morphed from smile to something between shock and disgust, before you quickly fixed it back into a now forced and small smile.

“She said she dumped you for ghosting.” You answered his inquiry, not trying to sugar coat your words at all.

“What?” he asked, and his face fell.

“Mark,” you told him, your voice softening for the boy who you care so deeply for, for your best friend who you love and only want the best for, “I think maybe you should let it be. You can’t keep doing this where you’re dating someone who doesn’t understand that you have a greater purpose, and more important commitments than just them. You can’t date someone who doesn’t know that you’re Invincible.”

He looked at you angrily, “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t comment on my relationship anymore.”

“…yeah.” You responded quietly and left his hospital room. Watching him go through this off and on, riding the seas of emotional turmoil over some high school relationship, hurt you. You didn’t want to see him struggle or be sad, he was still your best friend, at least in your eyes.

Once Mark was able to, he went to Amber and begged for forgiveness, which she for some reason granted to him. And to top it off, he then went on a weekend trip to a see a college with his once again newly reinstated girlfriend and Willaim, leaving you behind because you didn’t want to watch the two of them being together all weekend. You just told Mark that you didn’t want to fifth wheel when he invited you.

You were there when he came for you after that weekend, in incredible emotional distress, and told you about the fight he had with Amber, and that she had broken up with him again. Worst of all, he told you that he had revealed to her that he was Invincible to try to get her to understand him, in a last-ditch effort to win her back. And still after having that closely held secret told to her, and still having her turn him away.

You sat by him as he poured his heart out to you with watery eyes. But as you watched him, you felt the frigid cold in your stomach and chest spread even further, up into your throat, out into your arms, and down your legs.

“I just don’t know what to do.” He said to you weepily, “I thought she would understand if I told her, if I explained everything to her. I thought it would be alright.”

You didn’t respond and just looked at him, you didn’t know what you were feeling but it was a foreign feeling that you have never had before while looking at Mark. You felt tired, and almost apathetic.  

“I don’t know Mark.”

He continued on, rambling about how he thought he could fix it, and now how he can’t think of anything to make things better.

He turned to you after you hadn’t said anything for a few minutes, the only sound in the room being your slow breathing and his occasional sniffle.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked

“I don’t know Mark,” you said once again.

And then you got up, and walked out of your bedroom, leaving a confused Mark Grayson behind you.

You knelt frozen in front of your tv as you and most of the world watched the fight between Omni-Man and Invincible destroyed Chicago. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as you watched your best friend and his father, a man you had been close to since childhood, fought, causing death and destruction through out their super powered path. You felt horror, and selfishly, feared for Mark’s life more than anything.

You were there, when Mark awoke at the GDA hospital, sleeping on top of your folded arms that lay on his bed as you sat by his side.

You had been there for days, sitting sometimes with others who would come see him, but most of the time it was just you and Debbie, watching his swollen sleeping face, and wishing for him to wake up.

Mark looked at you, and around the room, and then back to you, with bags under your closed eyes, messy hair and most likely days old clothes.

It suddenly clicked for him, that you alone had always been there. Since a time before he could fully recall, you had been there. And here you were once again, by his side. He began to weep. Feelings of gratefulness and adoration flooded him.

You awoke slowly to the quiet sounds of Mark crying, but once you realized what the sound you were heard as, you jumped to your feet and looked at Mark. Worry morphing your face.

“Are you in pain?” you asked, quickly looking over him, as if you could find the source of his tears and presumed pain, and make them stop.

Mark reached out and grabbed your hand, and your eyes drew to his face. He shook his head.

“No, I’m not,” then he winced when you sat on the bed, shifting its weight and causing him to also shift, and added, “well maybe a little sore but that’s not what’s wrong.”

You watched him expectantly, still holding his hand, waiting for him to go on, wanting to know what was going on and how you could help fix it.

“I…” he started and stopped, clearing his throat that was rough from its lack of use and nerves, “I think I am in love with you.”

Your blood ran cold. The freeze made itself known once more, settling deep inside of you, in a place you could never take it out. It took over torso, and quickly seeped into your limbs, before finally it made its way to your head.

You pulled your hand away from his.

“What?” you asked, and though it just one word, the question came out harsh and sharp.

“I just realized now,” he explained to you, “that you’re the one that’s always been here. You’re the one who understands me. You’re the one who I need in my life, the only one able.”

You frowned at him, “So, I’m the most convenient? The one who is content with being push to the side, so you can prioritize other things? Who already knows who you are, what you are, so you don’t have to explain to the next girl you date?”

“No no no,” he shook his head, looking desperate to get his point across, “that’s not what I mean at all.”

“Forget it Mark,” you told him, standing up from his bed and taking a step back. “You were too busy loving another girl to notice that I was there, loving you.”

He looked at you, distress showed on his damaged face.

“I didn’t know,” he half whispered dejectedly.

“I’m pretty sure it was obvious Mark, if you ever once looked my way and actually truly saw me, and the way that I looked at you.”

You sighed and shook your head.

“It’s too late Mark. You had a choice, and you chose wrong.”

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (III)

On your travels with the two demon companions, you stumble upon a fortified village plagued by monster attacks. It would be quite unlucky if the grand finale happened just as you step foot inside, right? Worry not, you're saved by a third mysterious yokai that you immediately recognize. The harem grows!

Content: female reader, monsters, violence

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

“Alright, how’s this?”

You do a clumsy pirouette before the two yokai men.

“That’s...are you sure?” Kiritsubo eyes you, mildly confused. “It’s usually what men wear.”

Of course, you already know. After weeks of walking through feudal Japan, you’ve reached the conclusion that modern clothing isn’t the most practical choice. Not to mention the strange looks you always get from other people upon your arrival in any village. You needed something to blend in, and the typical fashion for your gender might not be compatible with your training. You’d rather not swing a sword while covered in multiple layers of kimono.

Thus, you opted for the hakama pants typically worn by men. With your hair tied up and in this baggy attire, one could think you’re a young samurai. If they squint enough. You chuckle at the thought.

“She’ll wear whatever allows her to not be a burden.” Murasaki concludes with crossed arms.

One way to put it, you tell yourself.

“If you’re done discussing fashion, we can leave.” The dark-haired man continues with indifference, standing up and adjusting the swords in the folds of his sash.

Both you and Kiritsubo hurry and follow behind obediently.

“Where are we going this time?” You ask sheepishly.

“South-west. An old residence of his, although we will have to pass through a fortified settlement first. We should reach it before sunset.”

It’s hard to imagine you’re the supposed savior in this equation. Murasaki has been leading you by the hand each step, carefully considering every detail on the map, and extensively planning your travels every evening. All this on top of your daily training. You’ve now mastered the basics with the katana he’s provided you, as well as some common prayers for exorcising small-class demons.

You glance at the daisho pair of swords under his belt. A long, thin blade, and a shorter backup version, both in elaborate matching scabbards meant to showcase the status and wealth of the samurai wearing them. In this case, meant to express his rank as the advisor and right hand of the famed onmyōji. You certainly don’t doubt Nakamaro’s decision to rely on Murasaki.

In comparison, Kiritsubo carries a nagamaki at his waist. A comically long blade in your opinion, used mostly to bring down horses during battle. Any regular sword would’ve been too small for him. Despite his imposing appearance, you’ve learned rather quickly just how different Kiritsubo is from the other yokai. He’s quite clumsy in combat, often anxious about making mistakes, terribly apologetic, and overall has a heart too kind for his own good. If there’s hesitation coming from his side, Murasaki immediately follows with his ruthless, ending blows. As a matter of fact, even you’ve had to do the occasional killing to spare the man of such choices.

The silver-haired demon notices your eyes on him and smiles, excited. He reminds you of a large dog. A horned, fanged dog of monstrous strength, nonetheless the innocence is there. And he does make a great travel companion.

“How much longer?” You grunt, looking up.

“Are you tired? I can carry you for the rest of the way-” Kiritsubo instantly offers but is interrupted by Murasaki’s barked orders.

“She can walk. Don’t spoil her.” He glares at you, then nods ahead. “We’re almost there, so quit your whining.”

True to his word, you can finally discern the outline of a wall at the top of the hill. A few more steps, and you can even spot two guards standing beside the great gate.

“Stop there!”

The soldiers lift their spears threateningly. Before you can react, Murasaki steps in front of you with a hand placed on his sword.

“We’re just passing through.” He states factually.

“We’re no longer allowing visitors.” One of the guards exclaims. “The village has been raided by monsters recently and our Lord has closed all gates until the matter is solved.”

“That means no filthy demons go in.” The other adds in a mocking tone, his gaze lingering on the horns of your companions. His mouth curls in disgust.

You can tell Murasaki is angered by the disrespectful approach. He is not one to let such insults slide and you’d rather avoid him claiming unnecessary victims; therefore, you push past his arm and plant yourself ahead with a polite greeting bow.

“These yokai are with me. I vouch for their good behavior, so please consider letting us through. Perhaps we can even help you with these monsters.”

“You? How would you…”

The man stops abruptly, switching between you and the yokai. Eventually he inspects your scabbard, and he gasps, confusion twisting his features.

“Could it be? No…He’d be dead by now.”

“What are you talking about?” His partner inquires impatiently.

“That’s the family seal belonging to Abe no Nakamaro.” He explains, pointing to the golden finish at the end of your katana handle. “I’ve heard about him from my grandparents. But it’s been decades!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re saying this kid is a legendary onmyōji?”

“Who else would show up with demons as servants? Everything matches. Perhaps his powers have finally reached immortality”, he concludes solemnly.

The men continue their argument, and you clear your throat, embarrassed. What the hell? You can’t possibly look that manly. Sure, you’ve been skipping the makeup, and the clothes aren’t exactly curve shaping, but to be mistaken for an old man is like a slap to the face.

You’re about to deny their claims, but Murasaki swiftly pinches the back of your neck, and you wince. He lowers himself to your ear and whispers:

“This will be to our advantage. Just go along with it.” “Fine!” You mumble angrily. Then you turn back to the guards.

“V-very well, I see I haven’t been forgotten.” You admit, theatrically. “Lead me to your Lord and we shall discuss the details of your monster attack.”

Thus, you sip on your tea, kneeling at the luxurious table and awaiting the arrival of the feudal Lord. The servants are exchanging words, gossiping fervently next to the wall. “I wonder if he can cure my daughter!” one woman mumbles, visibly emotional.

“Do you think we can finally be saved? He’ll truly exorcise the beasts tormenting our village?” another whispers.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare at Murasaki. You had no idea he’d given you Nakamaro’s old sword. Now you’re stuck pretending to be a pompous, long-dead asshat.

“What if they catch us?” You hiss between your teeth. “I don’t know shit about onmyōdō.”

“Then I’ll just kill them all. Simple as that.” The crimson-eyed man retorts, unconcerned. “Have a little fun, won’t you?”

“W-we’ll help you come up with answers, (Y/N). Don’t worry.” Kiritsubo chimes in, trying to reassure you.

You sigh in frustration and look out the window. The sun must’ve set a long time ago and has since been replaced by a pitch-black sky. What’s keeping the Lord? Surely, he can’t be having important business meetings late at night.

Almost as if your thoughts were read, the door slides open and a servant wobbles in. The rest of the household workers are silent, expecting the entrance of their master, but no one is following behind. You observe the bizarre limp of the woman. Suddenly, she collapses to the floor, revealing her bloodied back torn by deep wounds, caused by some sort of claw. Her body is stiff.

Panic settles in right away, and the servants topple over each other to get away from the fresh cadaver. You struggle to get up among the terrified crowd, but thankfully Murasaki grabs your wrist and pulls you out into a quieter hallway.

“What the hell?” is all you manage to say.

“Rotten.” Kiritsubo furrows his brows, sniffing the air. “Someone in here must be possessed. Could be more of them.”

Murasaki surveys the surroundings and gestures towards his partner.

“We have to see if the Lord is still alive. You go that way. I’ll take the front. Kill everyone suspicious.”

“What about me?” You demand, holding your breath.

“Get out and wait for us. You know how to draw a protection circle, don’t you? I won’t take long.” The dark-haired yokai answers before vanishing.

Judging by the screams and wails coming from all directions, you suspect Kiritsubo is right about multiple attackers. You sprint across the hall, looking for an opening. The self-defense lessons didn’t cover cursed humans with demonic powers. You’ll stay out of this one.

What an absolute mess. You have encountered some demons in your weeks spent here, but nothing to this degree. When the guards mentioned a monster attack, you imagined a ghost with a grudge, or some small fry yokai scaring the workers at night, not a mass curse that ends in a massacre. Of course, it had to happen the moment you arrived at the main house.

You find a room with a door leading to the inner courtyard. Seems isolated enough and it should provide a bit of shelter while you wait for the pair to finish the business. As you rush past the dead bodies, you notice a woman hiding behind a screen divider.

“Ah! It’s you!” she yells, aware of your presence.

From the shadow of her secret spot emerges the small frame of a child. The woman pushes the little human towards you, blocking your path.

“Don’t worry, he’ll protect us.” she gives her child another nudge. “Go on, hold onto him. You’ll be safe.”

What? No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re getting out.

“Ma’am, sorry to break it to you under such circumstances, but I’m not-”

You’re interrupted by a loud growl. One of the possessed creatures must’ve followed your scent, and it’s now sliding into the room on all fours with the bones of the limbs twisting and creaking in unnatural pounces. You purse your lips in a frightened grimace. One advantage of the wide hakama pants – useful to know – is that no one can see your knees shaking cowardly.

Theoretically, you could use the brat as bait and run for your life. It’d make a decent obstacle. Unfortunately for your life span, you’ve been gifted with an idiotic sense of duty instead of survival instincts.

“Keep your distance. If I can’t kill it, get out and don’t look back” you advise, positioning yourself in the learned stance and sliding the sword out of its sheath.

Damn it! Then again, it should be like fighting a zombie, right? Given the pathetic way it drags itself around, it can’t be too difficult to hit. Aim for the head, you repeat in your mind. Your fingers grip around the handle.

The ghoulish beast lowers itself, like a spring about to recoil, and leaps across the room with an ease you did not anticipate. Despite your iron hold, it slaps the blade out of your hands with enormous force. The impact breaks your skin, and you wince. There’s no time to weep, within seconds it could go for your vitals next. While Murasaki hasn’t gotten around to teaching you much hand-to-hand combat, you’ve read your fair share of shounen manga. The first idea that comes to mind is to put the beast in a sumo lock. You bend your knees smoothly and wrap your arms around the monster, feeling for something to hold onto. You grit your teeth and attempt to lift the creature.

A thundering laugh resonates within the walls, and you jolt, startled.

“I never thought I’d see the mighty Abe no Nakamaro wrestling with ankle biters like this. What are you going to do, throw it out of the ring?”

The voice is deep, loud, and unfamiliar. You can’t afford to look back to see the source, but it’s not hard to figure out the possibilities. So far, you’ve only been called by that cursed name by the yokai accomplices. Although now is not the best time to seek revenge.

“Shut up, I panicked”, you snap in frustration. “If you can’t help, keep that trap closed!”

The sudden burst of anger seems to have triggered something within your body, a power you don’t recognize. You watch as your arms effortlessly pick up the monster and swing it across the room, its body demolishing the opposing wall and causing thick clouds of dust to rise and spread everywhere.

The impact must’ve alerted the nearby ghouls, as you can now hear the agitated trample and screeching rapidly approaching. You’re not confident you can pull the same lucky move a second time.

You turn to search for your sword, but it’s already being handed to you by the mysterious yokai who’s been observing your little fight. You have to step aside and tilt your head all the way back in order to fully view the gigantic frame of the man.

Ah, you recognize the features immediately. The same kind of fear you felt when you stumbled upon that old shrine statue is now tugging at your chest.

“You’re Suma, right?”

A proud, wide grin forms on his face, revealing a pair of glistening fangs. His expression is unexpectedly soft and friendly.

“We’re halfway through our introductions then, eh?” You pick up the sword and his fingers stretch out for a handshake. “What is your given name? I’m guessing you don’t willingly go by that…title.”

“I very much prefer (Y/N), yes.” You marvel at the significant difference in size, placing your small hand in his. “Was that your power I just used?”

“Mhhm. You sure surprised me there! It’s not something I did intentionally, but I s’ppose we just resonate that well, huh?”

He laughs again, completely unbothered by the impending danger.

“Alright, you can leave the rest to me. Take the lady outside, it will get a little messy.”

And with that, he casually walks towards the gathering of ghouls. You guide the family to the courtyard and wait for the battle to end.

“Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” Kiritsubo is resting against the fence, keeping you under a watchful gaze.

“Let the humans sort it out among themselves.” Murasaki responds, somewhat bored.

The morning after the attack, you offered to deal with the survivors: ask them how everything started, if they’d noticed anything suspicious days prior to the event, and if the route to Nakamaro’s old residence was still open. The yokai men had found the feudal Lord in the jaws of a possessed creature and he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Consequently, only the remaining servants could provide them with clues.

A village being targeted like this is highly unusual, and Murasaki can’t shake the feeling it could be related to their master.

“Oh, where are you heading after this?” The silver-haired yokai glances at Suma, sitting lazily next to them.

“Where? After you just told me the whole story? I’m way too invested in this modern reincarnation that just popped out of nowhere, so I’m tagging along!” He announces with a chuckle.

Murasaki frowns.

“We don’t need your help.”

“Don’t be like that.” The giant man pouts dramatically. “Are you upset I saved (Y/N) before you?”

“W-we were on our way!” Kiritsubo retorts, visibly bothered.

“It’s a done deal!” Suma rests his hands under his head and yawns. “Besides, the little human already said he doesn’t mind.”

“He? (Y/N) is a woman.”

The redhead abruptly sits up and gasps.  

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t get funny ideas, man”, the silver-haired demon warns.

[girl-lostconnection]

Helldivers are just little freaks to me, freaky half feral dog creatures that are tossed to the meat grinder of war. Starving war dogs that do not understand what they are starving for exactly but nonetheless still chasing after what was demanded of them, hoping that maybe, MAYBE, if they go further-If they complete even more missions, they’d no longer feel that gnawing hunger even if it chips away at their very souls.

ANYWHO😌 this is reader to me

“Remember that you can’t save everyone. Remember that you have to try” YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME JESTER OH MY GODDDDDDD THE WAY MY HEART SANK. But yeah, you are spitting facts out here, I’m ready to sign under every word you are saying here.

@jesterinc, my G, this one’s for you

Helldiver!Reader who lives this long mostly because of the kindness and patient teaching from older divers. The shared knowledge, the shared manuals, shared camaraderie.

Reader who doesn’t know why Helldivers who are so much more skilful and who could (and by any standard should have) left them behind decided not to.

Question that keeps them up at night sometimes, question that ping pongs off the walls of their head, echoing louder when it’s too quiet.

Why-why-why-why-why?

Reader who doesn’t understand why these behemoths of war tried to help time after time after time.

They don’t get it until they got their first cadet joining in for a mission.

Jumpy tense thing, losing more bullets than actually hitting the enemy, not used to a recoil yet, not sure how to adjust the satellite tower, not very knowledgeable about the mechanics of battle that are their new home now.

(Everyone knows that Helldivers don’t die sleeping. Everyone knows that death is better than shame)

Reader who suddenly gets it why these older Helldivers helped them, why they carried a new pup on the battlefield, why wasn’t they just kicked to the side.

It is often said that Helldivers as a branch are one big pack of feral dogs.

Starved for scraps of approval, dying too young and snarling at every outsider. Feral creatures. Weapons of war.

Judgement rained from the sky on unsuspecting enemies.

It is often overlooked that the most prominent rule Helldivers live by is “we do not mock young in the field. We do not make them crawl and beg. We help. We were there once. We know how it feels to be a feral dog in eyes both enemies and allies. We know how it feels to be left behind. We do not leave ours behind”.

You that lives long enough to get a little bit closer in experience and skills to mammoths that helped you years ago to survive.

You who patiently covers for young cadet as they fumble with terminals.

What’s a little time wasted if this one might live long enough to crawl higher in rank.

What’s a little effort spared if you as divers already have to prove to everyone that you deserve to be here.

That you are not just dogs. That you deserve the same respect command shows to other branches.

You aren’t going to make cadet “prove themselves” when they have already passed the selection.

They are already here, aren’t they? Means they are worthy. Means they are yours.

Once Helldiver — always Helldiver.

It’s a constant journey and an uphill battle, you seeing first hand how fucking cruel life is to their branch.

How unfair command is. How hard missions are.

So what’s a little kindness shown if cadet behind them might live long enough to see the new generation of cadets.

If one day they too might become what you were to them today. What older Helldivers were to you when you started out.

Your branch is full of feral dogs and behemoths of battle, your branch is a dangerous thing (a grenade without a pin, a rifle without safety, a big bad wolf) hanging on by a thread of believing that your suffering can make the world a little better.

A little safer. A place where young cadets like this one will have more support, more training, more respect.

Simon watches you intently, eyes heavy with understanding, fingers twitching to reach out.

“Remember that you can’t save everyone, Captain”, he hums out, meeting your eyes in the reflection as you watch cadet buying new stratagems with excitement, their rank plate moving up.

Slowly, torturously slowly but steadily. Up-up-up.

They live thought the mission. They live through next three you walk them through. You won’t let them die. Not if you can help it.

“I know”, you muse back and there is phantom feel of hands on your shoulders, hands showing how to properly hold the rifle, hands dragging you out of hell because yeah, no one is gonna save Helldivers.

Other than Helldivers themselves.

You watch the young diver jog to the “Stratagem Hero” arcade, practically vibrating with excitement, eyes darting to you, asking for permission.

Their grin so wide when you nod to go ahead and try it, that you feel like their helmet might be illuminated from inside out.

They are painfully young and achingly fragile, not yet honed by years of work out in the field, their hands not yet calloused and burned one too many times.

Yeah, you remember that you can’t save everyone.

You also remember that you have to try.

[filmbyjy]

BLACK PANTHER NI-KI (3)

SUMMARY: training doesn't exactly go well but at least this kinda proves ni-ki really likes being around you a lot.

WORD COUNT: 1.1K words

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

a/n: went back to look at the first episode of ni-ki black panther series and i was genuinely surprised by how much people love the series! 1K notes on it woah. that's huge. i might have to start giving each series an actual name because gurl, calling it 'black panther ni-ki' sounds boring 😭 maybe you guys could suggest names in the comments for each enha hybrid boy :D

on the previous episode of ‘Black Panther Ni-Ki’,

“okay, i’ll go for those trainings as long as you’re there.”

“i will. you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

with that, ni-ki brings you close and he wraps his arms around you. he falls asleep and so do you. the both of you slept peacefully in each others arms, it was a safe space for the both of you and ni-ki wouldn’t have it any other way.

— and now we continue…

you had brought ni-ki over to the best training centre there was in town to help hybrids fully understand and get used to their human owner. they had trained different kinds of hybrids, big cats, small cats, big dogs and small dogs. all kinds and hence, you weren't worried about how they'd be taking care of ni-ki.

"hi, welcome to HYBRID Training 101." a floating robot greets you. ni-ki growls and you had squeezed his hand.

"ni-ki, it's just a robot. don't worry, okay?" you told him. ni-ki huffs. his tail swishes in annoyance.

"ugly ass robot." he says. you had snorted.

"do you have an appointment?" the robot asks.

"yes. we have an appointment with doctor han."

"right this way." the robot starts flying towards the doctor's office. it stops right in front of doctor han's office. "he's ready for the appointment. i have notified him, you may enter the room."

you had muttered a small 'thank you' to the robot and knocked on the office door.

"come in." dr.han says. you had opened the door and ni-ki instantly gets closer to you. he didn't like the scent from dr.han. to him, it smelt like he was about to steal you away from him.

"good afternoon, i'm dr.han. you must be miss (name)." he says.

"yes, that's right." dr.han looks up at ni-ki.

"this must be your hybrid. he's a very rare breed of hybrid and is considered an endangered species due to the hunting of them back then. rest assure, now we are all doing our best to save them from being extinct."

"oh, that's great."

"i'd like to consult some few things first before we start with some trainings. first, how long has ni-ki been staying in the cage at the adoption centre?"

"for about 3 years? ever since i worked there actually. i believe he was brought in before i started work so maybe 3 years and a few months?" dr.han hums whilst typing down.

"was he quite closed off in the beginning?"

"yes. he often didn't allow other people to feed him or touch him. it took maybe a few weeks for him to trust me and longer to trust other volunteers."

"so he only allowed you? that's interesting." dr.han looks up at you. ni-ki holds you close and growls lowly. dr.han snickers.

"well, i do believe he's all good for training. he's just a little possessive over you. which is normal for male hybrids to be so with their female owner. especially when he feelings for you."

you tilt your head. "you noticed it?"

dr.han laughs. "i'm a hybrid myself. i can smell the jealousy and hostility from him. don't worry, buddy. i have a wife and kids of my own, you don't have to protect her so much."

ni-ki lets go of your hand, his ears droops down and twitches. you had scratched under his chin and he hides his face at the crook of your neck. smelling your scent which helped calmed him down.

"well, let's get to the training ground. this should take a weeks of training for him to be fully comfortable and interacting with other humans and hybrids. though, i do believe if you'd like to come back here after the weeks, you may do so. we do free trainings for specific emotions and interactions. we often get 'rogue' hybrids in our centre to help them become better hybrids for adoption or other reasons." dr.han explains.

"that's really sweet of you guys." you say. however, you weren’t sure if you should have because ni-ki starts to cling onto you once more. you could feel his tail coiling around your ankles. a slight low growl was heard.

dr.han chuckles. "alright, i guess let's start with the training." and so, the training starts.

at first, it seemed like ni-ki was doing quite well but as the training goes, you could tell ni-ki was getting a little restless. mayhaps he was just getting more jealous watching you interacting with the doctor. the doctor finishes it off with a final test.

"okay, how about this. (name), you can stand over there. ni-ki, you'll have to make to stay here for at least 5 minutes without (name). this may seem like a simple test but since you are quite territorial. i think this would be a great test." the doctor suggests.

you stood on one end of the room. ni-ki's ears drooped down. he felt his tail swishing a lot. he felt uncomfortable at how far you were away from him.

"2 minutes." has it been that long? either way, ni-ki just wanted to run into your arms. he couldn't wait. you had watched ni-ki struggling and honestly, you felt your heart breaking at the sight.

"okay, 5 minutes are up! good job, ni-ki." the doctor says. ni-ki runs up to you and hugs you. his tail curling around your legs possessively. he purrs out loud without a care in the world.

you had reached up to pat his head, your fingers trailing his black hair. his ears twitching a little at the touch.

"well, you guys can come back next week and we'll start another training. just keep practicing it as it seems as though ni-ki is still quite clingy. this will get better as time goes on and you take care of him. panther hybrids are always with their mates so you can expect him to be around you a lot."

"thank you, dr.han." you had grabbed your bag. ni-ki lets you go but doesn't forget to intertwine your hands securely. you had left the training place and walked towards your apartment.

"ni-ki?" he hums. "will you ever be willing to work just like the other hybrids we've seen today?"

"i've actually always wanted to work but since i've practically lived in a cage throughout my teenage years, i've never received any education." he says. it's almost like there is a hint of sadness in his tone. you had squeezed his hands.

"what if i enroll you into a hybrid specialised school for you to get a job? i'm sure, it will help you to achieve your dreams."

you had entered the elevator to your apartment and ni-ki turns to face you. "really?" you had hummed. ni-ki leans in and places his finger under your chin before pecking your lips. "thank you. you've done some much for me."

"any time, it's what i should do as your owner and girlfriend."

he hums but as the elevator stops on your floor and the door opens, he asks. "what's a girlfriend?"

right, you forgot. hybrids aren't full humans.

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[littlegeecko]

Ah! I have so many questions,, gahhh. What I meant by refreshing is that I don't really see people depict Telamon as crazy as he should be! It's morbid in a cool way!!! It's a very new and interesting take

Another question! What kinda relationship does Dusekkar and Telamon have? What dynamic do they have going on? They seem like friends, or at the very least the trust seems to be there

Aww thank you, again i'm happy there's people that like my stuff, sometimes i get a little intense with the stuff i write (mostly why i stick to shitposting and lighter stuff haha) but it's great to see my Telamon and 1x1 stuff got some good first impressions : ]

Also, I've been thinking about it, but here's what i have about them so far! (Could change in the future if it clashes too much with the Forsaken Dusekkar & Shed lore or i feel like changing it)

Dusekkar, or Matthew Dusekkar (Yea, different name for the sake of my mental health haha) was offered to Telamon as a blood sacrifice, and while Telamon kinda laughed at this at first he eventually found out how Different this one was.

May i mention, Matt is NOT a robloxian (equivalent of full-human), the pumpkin heads are a humanoid species of sorts, so Telamon had a lighter hand with him from the start.

He kinda treated him like a court jester for the laughs at the start, getting him to do little tricks for him or show him what he knew about magic, and sometimes like a sand bag to "toughen him up" for a battle, even if Dusekkar is not the type for hand-to-hand combat and swordfighting primarily in comparison to his wizard powers he's still pretty skilled in that regard thanks to Telamon, bro's a twig but built like a titanium rod that could cave your skull in easy (this is relevant)

The thing is, just like Telamon was teaching Matt how to "be of use around here", Matt was also sharing things with Telamon; more especifically books, food, general knowledge about what's Below The Clouds, Music and even a light conversation once in a while, all of this fascinated Telamon bit by bit, becoming more and more prone to indulging in such vanal, mortal things for fun, and slowly but surely Matt was not only some sorta right-hand man for Telamon, but also a confidant, a friend even

---Also is Telamon's fault Matt gets so fucked up on wine nowadays.

Matt was often the link between Telamon and the Below, letting the admins know about his terms and conditions on how the Heights should be handled once the people started rolling in to fight for the funsies or train, eventually, Telamon joined their side officially, and the two were an inseparable duo that everyone on the admins group knew about- they were like two of the most fucking dangerous dogs you've ever seen simply hanging out and laughing at the stupidiest things only they understand, but could easily snap someone's neck in an instant if necessary (or for fun, in Telamon's case)

Telamon spared Matt's life multiple times during sparrings because he talked back to him, even spat at him a few times, bared his teeth and burned him with his head flames, took the blows like a champ too and saying "if you're gonna kill me then just do it" no balls bro, which simply fascinated the bird man, no one EVER yelled back at him, this one had guts huh? funny pumpkin man, i like that!

Mercy however, comes with a price:

Matt has been by Telamon's side for so long, he has seen people come and go, had seen him create and destroy over and over again, and somehow, they understood each other in a way no one else could, their connection became unique, a friendship and trust so strong it changed them both...at the cost of 1x1x1x1 becoming a thing.

But i suppose it was their fate. Written on the stars

How funny, pumpkin man became tough, and bird man became soft, get changed by love idiots!!!!

(may i add, their relationship in my au (both with Shed and Telamon) is exclusively platonic :J idc if some of yall ship em to an extent, but that's my jist, i loooove meaningful non-romantic friendships!!!!)

Anyway ty for reading :3

[elodieunderglass]

this feels like a strange question but in light of your info about how jockeys don't usually know or train with the horses they race on - what are jockeys..... for? what is the jockey doing that the horse couldn't be trained to do independently? does a good or bad jockey make a significant difference to how well a given horse does in a race?

Right?!

In a way, asking what the jockey’s for also asks the question of “why race horses?” Why do it at all, and why horses?

We sort of do it because horses are fast and exciting, and because they do what we tell them, even though it’s not in their nature. Because it’s not their nature, they have a jockey.

I’ve put this under a “Keep Reading” to save your dash.

Horses could be trained to race by themselves to some extent, but it wouldn’t be like greyhound racing - greyhounds are sighthounds, running perfectly reasonable dog software on top of ancient and serviceable dog hardware, practicing a variation of hunting behaviour. Horses wouldn’t do this; they have little desire to chase a mechanical rabbit. they have even less plan than a greyhound about what they’d do if they caught it. (Also, in terms of animal welfare, greyhound racing isn’t widely celebrated; loose animals running around aren’t better off than controlled ones.)

Racing-to-find-a-winner is not herding behaviour, even though some horses do seem to possess a natural interest in the topic. You could train some of them to understand better, and that’s what racehorse training is, but the way we have of training that is to put someone on their back to explain to them what their job is, so it all becomes circular anyway. Why do it? Why not? Why do humans race horses? Why race horses? We could just race snails; it’d be cheaper!

One answer is that when horses just Go, it isn’t super Fun. They mostly Go to pieces.

The jockey is the pilot, or software, who understands the situation and has a goal to achieve. The horse is not an engine, but a thinking animal; they have their own goals and interests, which are often satisfied by just running around in a predator-confusing fashion with their friends for 2 minutes, and then crashing into a car, eating hot chips and lying. Most of them do not really care how long 3 minutes is, what a mile means, what “pacing” is, or what “winning” is. They just have Go, and so they do that for a bit, and then fuck off.

I guess another metaphor would be Mario Kart. There are various combinations of automated and human players in a game of Mario Kart, and if racing was just about going fast, the fastest vehicle should always win. But a decent human player can beat the NPCs even if the human hasn’t bothered min/maxxing a vehicle, just because they can be moderately smart about how to race. An adult can often beat a child at Mario Kart, even if the adult takes a much worse vehicle, because in theory, brains/experience/strategy/planning factor into “who wins a race,” and we LIKE that.

Same with car racing. Why not just race autonomous vehicles? In F1, where they build their own cars, why not include the driving software in the design? Or why not remote-control them? Why bother strapping a poor driver into a flameproof suit? Fans will tell you it’s strategy. The human driver uses tactics and responsiveness and skill - but, below all this, the dark red thread of the human is risking their life and we like that.

In theory, jockeys are more intelligent than thoroughbreds, and have more of a plan: setting pace, knowing what time is, changing strategy, evaluating stamina, conducting the horse safely through traffic and over jumps, and adding a complicating element of human interest. In practice, it’s believed that they have relatively little influence on race outcomes - a bad jockey on a good horse can win or lose a race; a good jockey on a bad horse usually just loses; oh, what the hell, let’s just race snails instead - but without the jockeys, you’d have to change the name of the sport to Horses Wandering Around A Carpark Kicking Lumps Off Each Other.

Here is a bunch of baby steeplechasers practicing the concept of Go in such a way that nobody gets to Go at all. After the un-mounted Snow Dragon wipes out most of the other horses and jockeys, all of the loose horses go faster without the weight of their riders, but after an initial show of interest in the concept, the loose horses all lose interest and focus.

It was funny (because nobody was hurt) but it wasn’t what anyone really wanted. In theory, that’s what the jockey is for: they’re supposed to be the adult, in a game where you can win by doing that.

But none of it has to be happening, any more than Investments need to be Managed, you know? It would also be fine if we didn’t! Michael O’Sullivan, an Irish jockey, just died racing this very week and there’s the dark red thread again: the human is risking their life.

The consumption of animal and human in an ancient sport is fascinating and visceral and compelling; but you’re right to question it; none of it has to be that way.

As for the second half of your question: a bad jockey can make a good horse lose. A good jockey cannot make a bad horse win. But most people and most horses are not particularly exceptional, or particularly anything at all; they are just workers running in a circle.

Top jockeys on average horses win more often than other people on average horses. Top jockeys and champions exist, with year-on-year records and recorded material evidence of their decision-making and risks paying off, indicating that there’s consistency of winning across skill and experience that makes their success better-than/random; it would be worth doing a study controlling for the fact that top people are offered the best mounts.

It’s a test of horsemanship, too. Achieving flow - nonverbal command of an animal and fellow athlete, and sympathy together, such that they respect and trust you - having just met the animal - is an achievement of many skills, and if you broke a jockey’s skills down into different types, most ordinary people couldn’t do any of them. No core strength, no balance, bad hands, bad posture, no sense of body positioning, no internal timer, no ability to psychically mind-meld with an unhinged animal you don’t know personally… they’re all fairly rare, and it’s something else to make it complex and interesting for people who like that sort of thing.

Personally, I just like Killie’s little problems and the drama around them. The racing industry itself could collapse tomorrow, rendering Killie’s story historical fiction, and I’d be just as happy.

[luvyoujelly]

caleb-coded songs🍎🤍૮ฅ・ﻌ・აฅ

it’s him!!! 😓😓🍎 some songs that remind me of caleb!! 🍏🤍 (if u wanna unlock more u gotta get to my friendship lvl 5 ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )

(just a small post to get used to posting on tumblr! i’ve never posted regularly here so i’ll do my best ദ്ദി( ;´ - `;) )

dreaming cat png by ruuixl, border by konatasoup !

i love you, i’m sorry - gracie abrams

this song completely decimated me btw and launched me into calebmc doom!! very much totally and completely started by ucyobie’s edit on tiktok!! i think it encapsulates calebmc’s dynamics very well, especially for a character and relationship as mischaracterised as theirs. honestly, the standout lines i have could go both ways to be honest (#switch #bisexual):

> “now you go alone, charm all the people you train for, you aim low. and i’ll make it known, like i’m getting paid.”

> "two summers from now, we'll have been talking but not all that often.. i'll be on a boat, you're on a plane, going somewhere, same."

> “you were the best, but you were the worst. as sick as it sounds i loved you first.”

> “trust me i know it’s always about me. i love you, i’m sorry.”

back to me - the marías

the vibes are similar to the previous song, but i think more on the nose and even grittier i feel. it’s like i love you, i’m sorry’s eventual breakdown. specifically it suits the homecoming wings chapters (ruined me fr). standout lines:

> “i could build us a house.. i’d be there in a hurry, baby, come back to me.”

> “picture my face (yeah, i want you). waitin’ by the altar. sayin' your name (can i have you?)."

> "promise to be near you, promise i'll stay. if i get the chance to, remember this day."

> "i'll be all that you want. i'll be all that you need. i'm outside your apartment. baby, come back to me."

i'm your man - mitski

i love this song but never equated it to caleb (for some reason) until my lovely mutual bluebellies wrote a beautiful, haunting, life-changing work that actually flipped my whole view of calebmc by good 90 degrees.. like it's so poignant as i literally posted my first ao3 fic back in 2021 with an exploration on grief via maya fey from ace attorney!! (full circle moment!!) absolutely love this song.. mitski does the soggy, losing, desperately hungry dog analogy so well (caleb😭😭) the calebmc codependency goes crazyyy. anyways, standout lines:

> "you're an angel, i'm a dog. or you're a dog and i'm your man."

> "i'm sorry i'm the one you love. no one will ever love you like me again. so when you leave me, i should die. i deserve it, don't i?"

> "i can feel it gettin' near. like flashlights comin' down the way. one day you'll figure me out. i'll meet judgement by the hounds."

summer rain - irene

i love, love, love this song so much, like it's probably my most streamed song this year. and honestly, i associate basically any summer themed song with caleb because that's how he is to me: boldly bright like the heat could ever hide away the happiness of our memories or the reminder of how awful it can be to be stuck under such a blazing glare.. but then the rain squanders, it casts a sheen on whether any of that was ever real at all. this is endless summer coded (aka my favourite card)!! standout lines (translation by me! i'm the least confident in my korean skills but hopefully it's all legible as i tried hard to add context to the nuance!):

> "눈을 감으면 잠시 세상은 without you, without you. i know, 꿈처럼 다가와 날 한눈에 알아본. / i closed my eyes for a second and the world is without you, without you. i know, you came to me like a dream that i knew with just a glance."

> "그 여름의 널 기억해? 내 맘을 채워 준 summer rain. i know, 가만히 젖어들어, 서로를 안았던. / do you remember the you from that summer? my heart's filled with that summer rain. i know, we were slowly getting drenched as we hugged."

> "조그맣고 연약한 아이. 마음 꺾이지 않게 늘. 버텨냈던 밤, 모두 지켜줄게. / a small and fragile child. without it ever breaking my heart, through that long night, i will always protect you.

> "이 여름의 끝이 와도 난. you know, 불안한 예보 끝에 쉼 없이 내게 온. 너의 긴 밤에 머물게, 따스히 내리는 summer rain. 너의 이름을 부를게, a daisy caught in the summer rain. / even when this summer ends. you know, who came to me through the torrent without rest. i'll stay in your long night, that warm summer rain. i'll call your name, like a daisy caught in the summer rain."

> (bonus!!) "끝이 없는 미로 같던 표정 없는 기억. 깨워주는 소리 (온기), bringing back the old days. 깊은 새벽, 짙어진 그림자는 don't know how to (know how to). / that hazy memory like an endless maze. the sound that wakes me up (that warmth), bringing back the old days."

like him - tyler, the creator (ft. lola young)

i wonder how many times, caught in caleb's shadow, did mc ever think they'll catch up to him. orbiting someone who crumbles in front of you when there's no one watching. "he's not my brother!' "oh but you look just like him!" "no we don't!" "well, he must be basically he's looked after you well." how many times did they follow him around, copying how he enunciates his words, how he carries himself-- a shadow that will never move past its object-- will he finally look at them?

> “she said that i make expressions like him... my waist and posture like him."

> "mama, i'm chasing a ghost, i don't know who he is. mama, i'm chasing a ghost, i don't know where he is. mama, i'm chasing a ghost, do i look like him?"

> "you gave me love, and affection, attention, protection; how could i ever miss something that i've never had?"

> "let it go, i've decided to, anything that lives inside of you. i would never lie to you, you ain't ever have to lie to me. i'm everything that i've strived to be, so do i look like him? do i look like him?"

moves - suki waterhouse

lucky last! a recent add to my caleb playlist! suki waterhouse is one of my favourite artists, and the mood, the feel, the gritty dreaminess of her voice and her songs suit him well! this is that culmination of that will they, won't they, that absolutely delicious yearning throughout their lives, throughout everything. they're intertwined like strings, like unyielding stars, like a shoelace that's been knotted beyond failure. all those unspoken glances, those stolen and buried kisses. one like and i'll write a calebmc birthday fic with this song. (also no spoilers even tho i got the card heheh! i need that building realism. i gotta yearn as well.) standout lines:

> "in the morning light, faded to oblivion. and i said, "that's alright, at least we feel alive.""

> "there's nothing you can do. i know that i want this. no one likes to lose, know that i got this."

> "i'ma put some goddamn moves on you, babe, i know you need it. die a double death for you, death for your secrets. i'll find another way for you, wait 'til you need it."

> "i know you're in the city; should be spending all my time with you. i can't forget that feeling even if i wanted to... don't make it complicated, don't tell me what you're going through; there's nothing you can do, i know that i want this."

thank u for coming to my yap fest!! (◡ ‿ ◡ .) i don't talk a lot irl so this is my form of yapping and i'm happy!!!! (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡ fem! caleb version is coming next and perhaps a part 2 to this because i like analysing songs ( ¯ ³¯)

+ some memes because i can’t take myself seriously and i think i’m funny (=`ω´=) 🍎

[oceisastar]

Skott x male reader with belly bulge? Imagine a reader that is much taller than him and larger in size, I want to see how Skott accepts the reader while he lightly presses on the resulting bulge 🤤

MDNI (male!reader x skott; skott is an IPC employee & reader is his superior, skott is drunk and mouthy, petplay, spanking, minor belly bulge, mention of breeding, very brief feminization ("cunt"), brief moment where skott says "no" but not seriously, they have a safe move and he does not use it)

do not repost / translate / re-use my work in any shape or form. this is strictly for entertainment purposes/fiction and is not intended to support or endorse these power dynamics irl!

*** Skott is quite the pain in your ass. Insolent, two-timing, and a whiny brat at that.

Still, he has his redeeming perks. you first noticed him when Caelus made him get on his knees and bark in front of everyone at Aurum Alley.

That certainly caught your attention. He’s rather cute, even though he makes your life a living headache. His loyalty to the IPC is never in question, though his methods are often crass.

You remember having to bail him out when he got caught with a bunch of IPC mechs at the Xianzhou Luofu docks. He was making all sorts of fuss at first—until you helped him get out of being thrown in prison for suspicious cargo counts.

He tried to explain, stutter and justify until finally he mumbled out a, “Thank you,” bright red with embarrassment.

It was nice, to see him so obedient. like a dog.

One night, Skott approaches you, obviously drunk. “You… hey! Yeah, you!”

You incline your head. This is certainly not the way an IPC employee speaks to his superior.

“You think you’re so much better than the rest of us, ‘cause you’re so big and smart and hot and… hot!” He jabs a finger in your direction.

You catch his wrist, lifting his arm up.

“I would watch your tone, Skott. Someone else might misconstrue this as you trying to come onto me. And that would be an HR violation, wouldn’t it?”

Skott’s cheeks go bright red. “You’re insane! You have no idea what you’re talking about! I’m just pointing out how unfair it is that you’re getting preferential treatment.”

“Am I?" You tower over him, your shadow looming over him. "I would call it observant. I see how you look at me, Skott.”

His eyes go wide. "What are you talking about?"

“I even caught you sniffing one of my jackets the other day. But I let it go, because I’m a kind man who cares about my subordinates.”

Skott looks like he wants to melt into the earth.

“I know what you get up to, Skott.” You press your lips to the shell of his ear. “Nothing you do gets by me.”

He shudders, letting out a broken whine in response.

“I—that wasn’t me. It was a-someone else.”

“Was it?" Your fingers skirt his collarbone, tugging at the chain around his neck. "I distinctly remember seeing your dog tag when I was walking away.”

To your surprise, Skott shifts, trying to hide the growing bulge in his pants. You smile licentiously.

“Skott… don’t you know it’s bad to lie to your superiors?”

Your hand slides down to grab at his waist. It’s so small, fitting perfectly against the curve of your palm.

“N-now, wait a minute! What do you think you’re—”

“I think you deserve to be punished.” Your hand slides down to knead at his ass. He jolts forward, chest pressing up against the broad planes of your chest.

"P-punished?! Now you're just talking nons--ah!" he moans unintentionally, turning bright red as he squirms.

"You stole my jacket. That's IPC property. And we don't take lightly to theft."

“It... just happened. I—I didn’t mean to.” He says miserably, looking into your eyes. His eyes are watery, wide and repentant.

“I know you didn’t. You just need someone to teach you better. To show you how to take it like a good boy. Or should I say, a good dog?” You smile at him.

His cock strains against his pants, now unmistakably visible.

“What do you say, Skott? Are you in the mood for some training?”

There’s a long silence before he swallows, cheeks blushing.

“Yes… sir. Please punish me.”

________________________________

Skott is on all fours, ass up in the air as he yelps, your hand coming down swiftly to smack him over and over.

“T-thirty one… thirty… ah!”

“Ah, ah, Skott. You lost count. Such a bad boy.”

“D-don’t make me do it again, please! This is the… third time!” He hiccups. He’s nearly soiled his pants through with how aroused he is, glasses slipping down his nose.

“I would make you go again, but since it’s our first time, I can grant a little reprieve. That poor cock of yours needs a little mercy, hm?”

Your hand slips unapologetically below his boxers and cups his aching cock.

“Ah—oh! Sir!” He calls out, jolting forward. You begin to jerk him off, shoving off his pants until he’s about to burst.

“W-why’d you stop?” He says pathetically.

“Because I’m going to fuck you.”

________________________________

After painstakingly stretching him, his cock dripping all over the floor, his nipples hard from all the attention, you slowly press your cock against his, sliding between his thighs.

“Tell me how badly you want it.”

“I… huh… g-give it to me.”

“That’s no way to ask. I’ll give you one more chance. Try again.”

“I, mmhm, want your c-cock, sir. Please put it in my fat hole.”

“Show me.”

Skott is burning up inside, his hands coming to spread his cheeks for you, showing off the pretty pink treat inside.

“Very good.”

Without another word, you slide inside. Skott wails, clenching endlessly around you.

“You’re so, hrgh, fucking tight.” You grit out, rolling your hips as you try to get used to him.

“Oh god!” Skott claws at the floor, back arching inadvertently as your weight presses down onto him.

“Haven’t been fucked by a cock this big?” You ask, slowly grinding into him.

“N-no,” he sniffles, “you’re the b-biggest, sir.”

“What were you really doing with my jacket, Skott?”

“I…”

You stop moving. He clenches relentlessly, crying out at your stillness.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop—”

“Answer my question.” Your hand pushes down on his back, forcing him to bow further.

“I masturbated to it, okay! I used it and I—I got off with it. But I took it for dry cleaning right after and I—ah!”

You already knew the answer—the strange stain when it came back. Dry cleaning is good, but not for that.

“Ruining a perfectly good jacket for your base fantasies.” Your hand smacks across his ass, watching his cheeks jiggle from the movement.

“Oh, fuck!” Skott cries out, tightening around you, squeezing your length.

You fuck him harder, pressing your full body weight onto him so he melts into the floor.

“Tell me, have you thought about this before? Me fucking you, taking your tight ass?”

“Yes..! Yes!” He slobbers all over the floor, drunk on your heated touch.

“Such a needy dog.” You growl.

Skott cries out, shuddering and shaking. You press your hips all the way, as deep as possible, and he cries out.

Your hand traces the thin lines of his stomach, feeling the bulge of your hardness pressing through.

“S-Sir…” he lets out a broken moan. You press harder, and Skott cries out. “Please! I—I can feel you so deep...”

“Just what I expected from someone like you. You live to take cock, don’t you?”

Skott sobs an incoherent answer. You press him down harder, pressing your balls up against his ass.

“Need a big strong man to breed you, huh?”

Skott claws at the floor, arching his back as you fuck him deeper.

“N-no, sir, too deep!”

Despite his words, there’s no taps on your arm, signaling he’s fine.

“Shut up. You’ll take it.”

You thrust harder, more aggressively, animalistically, taking everything you want from Skott laid bare at your feet.

“Such a good cunt. Made for me.”

Skott weeps, cumming all over himself as he feels you fill him over and over.

“And I’m going to show you how we reward good employees.”

[kireilien]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNd8gagH8/

okayyyyy hear me out!! the first scene between Maki and Harua gave me an idea.

So basically, just having an argument with Maki over random stuff, but the reader and him are kinda stubborn, neither of them wanting to admit they're wrong (so the vibe is kinda like the scene in the tiktok, if u get what I mean). But then it all just gets a bit heated yk?? yeah and the rest is up to you ;)

sfw link!

OUUUUUU LORDDDDD ANONNNNNNNN MMMM MMMMM MMMMMMMMM THIS IS YUMMY I CANT EVEN RN

tw/cw. nsfw content, cursing; brat tamer!maki, brat!reader, fem!reader, race neutral reader, face grabbing?, choking, forced submission, implied spanking, reader cries, implied unprotected sex, praise but only once, maki talks to you like a dog, use of “pup/py”

OH THE BRAT TAMING MAKI OF MY WET DREAMS.

it’s already been an hour of yours and maki’s stupid banter. “you’re supposed to fucking close the door after yourself, maki,” you spit. “we live in the same damn apartment— it’s just a door, y/n,” maki retorts.

this all started because when maki left your room, he didn’t close the door behind him— which usually shouldn’t bother you— but today it just ticked you off. to be fair, even you didn’t close the door behind you on some days while you’re in the apartment. maki already had enough of it. okay sure, he should close it more often since it is your own room— but straight up getting pissed at him? it was all fine and dandy an hour ago, but suddenly you’re face to face with him, bodies nearly pressed together, glaring into each other’s eyes.

both of you are so fucking stubborn, no one’s backing down to apologize. but a sneaking feeling is crawling up your spine. you wanted to turn up the heat of this little unnecessary argument of yours— after all, you were the one who was slightly more in the wrong.

“if you can’t even simply close a door, how can i expect you to even make me cum?”

a dark switch ran through maki’s veins. “yeah? you wanna bring our sex life into this?” maki flexes his jaw as he looks around the room, deciding if he should take this further. he does. “how many times have i made you cum— and more— when we fuck? yeah, every fucking time.” his eyes are piercing into yours, his pupils dilated and focused.

he roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to stay silent, “you are so fucking greedy, you know that? i give you the world in bed and you decide to even question my ability to make you cum? how many times have you made me cum? not always. i always prioritize you, such a shame you just— forgot!” he grits through his teeth. maki’s hand eventually loosens around your chin, just for it to sink down and press into your throat.

this entire time you’ve been nothing but quiet. you really wanted to see and test out how maki was willing to get mad.

“how about we remind ourselves how you’re supposed to fucking act, puppy.”

oh.

maki brought out “puppy.”

yeah, this was gonna be long.

letting go of your throat, he pushes you towards the bed. you simply stand there, pretending to be a lost puppy, not understanding what to be told to do. maki plasters a fake smile, “sit.” you continue to ignore him. he takes in a deep breath before connecting his hand around your throat again, “i said sit, puppy. why do you have to make this so hard for us?” he seethes.

“i thin—.”

you start to say, but maki clasps his hand over your mouth, “puppies don’t speak. puppies stay obedient and they stay silent.” his eyes are zeroing in yours again, watching how your eyes are widening. oh he’s serious. his hands fumble at your clothes, stripping them off one by one until you’re bare. that eventually ends you up in a face down ass up position, your ass is bruised and hot, while tears are dripping off the edges of your eyes with hot tears. “down, pup.” your legs immediately come down when he commands you to.

he’s successfully trained you to listen to him. maki is content with himself. you didn’t need to act like that but at least maki can train his little pup to his heart’s content! ♡︎

after all, maki fucks himself deeper and deeper down your cunt, you’re just letting maki fuck your puppy cunt since you were just being so bad earlier, you have to let him! his hands are gripping the sides of your ass, leveraging him to fuck his cock full. he’s pretty sure he can hear you babble away on some drool on the mattress, but he doesn’t care. he feels you lifting your hips up, making him feel the head of his cock fuck your deepest and most sensitive parts, he mutters in your ear, “good job, puppy— that’s it— stay.” as the good puppy you are, you obey!

being the year of the dog like maki too, i’ve been compared to a dog many many times esp w my family and so thinkin abt him calling me pup or puppy....... nghmmm js put the ears and collar on me alr daddy

back 2 maki catalog

[inawickedlittletown]

Dog Days (BuckTommy) - 1/3

Summary: While on a call Buck and Hen get turned into dogs. Words: 2.4k Read on Ao3

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Part One

What Tommy had learned over the years was that when Howie called, it was with a reason. Yes, sometimes that reason was asking him for a favor, but those favors were usually the type that lead to helping someone. When he was Evan's boyfriend, he'd seen and spoken to Howie a lot more than in the years between Tommy transferring to Harbor and the call to fly out to find a lost cruise ship. As expected, after the break up they didn't stop all communication, but it did slow. 

Eventually, Tommy figured it would stop altogether until Howie needed his help somehow and then at that point, Tommy would probably drop anything to be of aid. Howie had saved his life, after all, but — and this was perhaps even more important — Howie would never ask unless he really needed it.

When, a few months after he and Evan broke up and after a night and morning that kept playing over and over in his head, he got a call from Howie, Tommy didn't hesitate to answer.

“Hey, Tommy,” Howie said and he sounded just a little odd and was that barking in the background?

“Hi, Howie,” Tommy said.

“So I have a big favor to ask,” Howie said. “You, uh, you own your place, right?”

A fact that Evan had forgotten the night he decided to ask Tommy to move into his loft as if Tommy could ever fit any of his stuff there. Of course, Evan had since moved to Eddie’s house which was…well, Tommy still thought that maybe there was something to his concern that Evan had feelings for Eddie. 

“I do. What's going on?”

“I, uh, I have a dog that needs a place to stay.”

“Don't you also own your own house?” Tommy asked.

Definitely a dog barking in the background. 

“Yes and a pregnant wife who is still recovering,” Howie said. He sounded stressed.

“Recovering from…oh, wait I heard. How is she doing?” Tommy asked.

When Evan had mentioned it in passing, Tommy hadn’t put it together that he had heard about the whole thing. It was absolutely insane what had happened to Maddie and she was lucky to have survived it. 

“She’s doing fine, all things considered.” 

“Good. That’s good.” 

“Thanks,” Howie said. “And I know you don’t want to ask, but Buck is doing alright too. Although, he did spend a lot of time sleeping on my couch.” 

Did Howie not know about him and Evan reconnecting? It had often felt that there were never secrets between the members of the 118. 

“Anyway, I would ask anyone else but Bobby and Athena can't have animals at their rental. Karen and Hen have a full house. Eddie's in Texas.”

“Right,” Tommy said. Which left Evan. He didn’t live in the loft any longer. 

The dog barked. 

“Right, actually Eddie wouldn’t have been able to help anyway. It’s a rental and no pets allowed so that…that ruled out Buck.” 

Tommy didn’t think that Evan would have cared if that was the case, but there was something odd about the way that Howie said that. Maybe Evan still hadn’t unpacked. Or there was something that Howie didn’t want to tell Tommy about Evan and Evan’s place. 

“Right,” Tommy said. 

“So, can you take the dog?” 

“Sure I'll take the dog. How long is this going to be for?”

“Hopefully not very long. I'll bring him to you later today. Tommy, you are a lifesaver. Bu— Buddy will be glad to have a place to sleep tonight.”

The dog barked a few times and Howie laughed.

“Is he house trained?” Tommy asked, realizing belatedly that he should have asked that question earlier.

Howie laughed again. “Yes, Tommy. He's very well behaved, don't worry.”

The last thing he heard was another bark from the dog. 

Several Hours Earlier…

The call had been perfectly normal to start. A fire at a mostly abandoned strip mall where every other store was empty with "for rent" signs. There was no telling where the fire had started though dispatch via Josh suspected it was one of the restaurants. By the time they arrived, there was smoke and flames overtaking several stores empty and not. They all got to work and it was several hours of work, other crews joining them in aid, but it was still only mid-afternoon when the fire was declared out. 

Chim was tired, but it was the good kind of tired. He'd just finished checking over a guy that had been inside one of the stores and was returning to where Buck and Hen were rolling up hoses when a frantic looking woman came running towards them. She looked, to Chim's eye, like a poor man's Stevie Nicks. Her greying hair was long and unruly and her dress was covered up by some sort of long scarf that fluttered in the wind.

“Hey, ma'am, are you okay?” Hen asked at once.

Chim turned ready to help.

“Can we help you?” Buck asked.

She grabbed at Buck's arm and pulled him babbling in a strange language that none of them could even pinpoint going by the confused glances they all shared. She said something else to Buck insistingle. 

“I don’t — what language is that maybe the translator app might help.” 

She just babbled again and then motioned for Buck to follow her before darting away. 

“Should we go with her?” Buck asked.

“Yeah,” Hen said. “Make sure she doesn't get herself into trouble.”

Chim was about to follow but Ravi called his name.

“We got this,” Hen assured him, grabbing a med bag, before she followed after Buck.

So, Chim went to Ravi who had a young woman with what looked to be some minor burns as well as a sprained ankle as well as an older man in dire need of oxygen for smoke inhalation.

They were there for a little while and Chim didn't think much of where Buck and Hen could have got to until they didn't reappear as they were finishing up. 

“Come on,” Chim said to Ravi, “I think they went that way.”

The fire touched buildings looked dark and the ground was puddles and soot. The whole strip mall would probably be torn down. Although, there was a portion that hadn't been touched by flames at all so maybe they would leave those parts alone. Chim doubted it. As they approached that part of it without a sign of either Buck or Hen, he started to actually get worried. 

“Buck! Hen!”

Nothing.

“This is really weird,” Ravi said. “Maybe we should—”

The door of a store tucked in between a nail salon and an empty space suddenly burst open and a huge dog burst out. Chim couldn't quite tell what breed it was, just that it was big with wavy to curly tan fur. It was wearing a turnout coat. 

He and Ravi shared a look as the dog ran towards them, barking and barking and barking.

“Hey,” Chim said, getting closer to the dog.

The dog wouldn't stop moving, but nevertheless, Chim caught sight of the name on the coat. Buckley.

Chim groaned. “What kind of joke is this? It's wearing Buck's coat.”

Another dog appeared then. That dog was definitely a chocolate labrador. It was wearing a turn out coat too and Chim expected it to be Hen's, but still didn’t fail to be a bit surprised about it when he saw that it was.  

“Is this is some prank, because it's kinda dumb,” Ravi said. “Buck has pulled more inventive stuff on me before.” 

“Not just Buck,” Chim said with a grin. 

Ravi rolled his eyes. 

Both dogs started barking, then.

“Maybe they're inside the store,” Chim said.

The dogs wouldn't let them pass, stepping in front of them to stop them, the bigger of the two even lunging at Ravi and hitting him on the chest with his front legs. As soon as he'd dropped back down to the ground, Ravi dropped to one knee to look at him closer. The dog let him. The dog seemed to be staring into Ravi's eyes.

“Uh, Chim,” Ravi said.

“What?”

“Blue eyes. Birthmark over the eyebrow. I'm not saying the dog is Buck, but—”

“Buck?” Chim asked the dog.

The dog barked, turning his face towards Chim. His eyes were the exact same shade of blue as Buck's and Ravi wasn't wrong about the mark over the eyebrow but that was…there was no way. Buck had just found a dog that had those features to mess with them. It was just that Hen would never go along with something like that. 

When he tried to go around them again to get to the building the smaller dog growled. The bigger barked again. 

Chim reached for his radio. “Uh, Cap, we may have a situation.”

Chim directed him to where they were. Bobby appeared a few minutes later. “What's happening?”

“We don't know where Buck and Hen are, but we found these dogs wearing their turn outs.”

And they hadn't taken them off, either. Most dogs would have shaken those coats right off. It was bizarre. The dog wearing Buck's coat got excited at seeing Bobby and even then managed to keep the coat on as he rubbed his face against Bobby's legs.

With that dog distracted, Chim tried to get to the building, but the lab got in front of him and pushed him hard. Growled and barked at him. Chim turned back to look at Bobby.

“There's also that,” Ravi said. “Won't let us go in there. They came from inside that store.”

Bobby pinched the bridge of his nose.

The door opened again and Chim almost expected to see Buck and Hen appear. Instead, it was the woman. She didn't hesitate to walk towards them. She spoke in her unidentified language again and pointed at the dogs.

The bigger dog whimpered. The smaller growled. The woman laughed.

A young woman appeared, then, running towards them. “Mama!” she called out and hugged the woman before pulling away to look her over. “Thank goodness you're okay. We were so worried.”

“Hi,” Bobby said. “Sorry to interrupt, but this is your mom? Do you know what she's saying about these dogs?”

The young woman turned to her mom and motioned to the dogs and asked her a question. She seemed to pale as she listened to her mom's reply, her eyes widening.

“What's happening?” Ravi asked, worried tone to his voice.

The young woman winced. “It's probably better if you see.”

Then, she pulled out her phone and after a few minutes motioned for them to join her. They crowded around her when she had pulled up footage from a camera presumably from inside the store. It was small, just a counter and shelves with just enough space to fit a few people. 

They watched as the older woman walked into the shop. Buck and Hen followed soon after and then after a little while she was pointing her finger at Buck. Hen stepped up to her and they didn't have sound so there was no knowing what they were saying until the woman reached behind the counter and brought out a small cloth bag that she reached into. She grabbed a fistful of powder and threw it. Hen tried to grab Buck out of the way, but instead they were both doused in it. 

It took less than thirty seconds for them to start changing into dogs. They went from two legs to four. Their clothes inexplicably left on the ground in a pool save for the coats that had flown off them and then fallen on their backs. 

“That cannot be real,” Ravi said. 

“I’m afraid it is,” the young woman said. “My mother, she says there’s something up with his aura and she just wanted to help. It wasn’t intended for the other firefighter. It’s a spell. It’s not permanent, but I’m not sure how long it will last.” 

Chim groaned. “Okay, where are the cameras? Buck? Hen? Come on out. This is not funny.”

“I don't think she's joking, Chim,” Bobby said.

“A spell?” Ravi asked.

The woman nodded. “Yes.”

“So then she can turn them back to normal,” Chim said.

The older woman shook her head and rambled for a bit.

“That doesn't sound like a yes,” Ravi said. 

The younger woman nodded. “Like I said, not permanent but it cannot be removed early. A few days. Week at the most. She only wanted to help. I’m sorry.” 

Bobby got her to send him the video, but after that she just gave them a tight smile before she walked away, leaving them with Buck and Hen as dogs. Chim had been through many strange calls in his time as a firefighter, but none that involved his fellow firefighters — his best friend and brother-in-law no less — winding up turned into dogs. It felt like something out of a dream. 

“What now?” Ravi asked. 

“Back to the station,” Bobby said. “Chim, you may want to call Karen and Maddie.” 

Karen hadn’t believed it for herself until she was at the station with Hen in front of her. She had even asked if this was Hen’s way of getting back at her for forgetting her birthday. 

Watching the video of what happened helped in convincing her, but even then she seemed to think they were playing a prank on her, until she really got a look at the dog and then she believed it. 

“And I’m supposed to just take her home and wait it out until she turns back to herself?” Karen asked. “Has this ever happened to anyone else?” 

“No idea,” Ravi said. “I’ve been trying to do some research.” 

“What about Buck? Where’s he going to go?”

Bobby was out. Eddie was gone. Ravi had shaken his head. Chim was his brother-in-law. Maddie would want to help him, but Maddie was also still recovering and pregnant. She was tired all the time and Jee-Yun was as energetic as ever. She had only recently gotten her voice back, too, and Chim didn’t know what telling her about Buck getting turned into a dog might bring out in her. But there was no other option…not unless…

“I think I know where Buck should go,” Chim said. 

“Where?” Ravi asked. Wary. 

“I’m going to see if Tommy’s available.” 

Ravi nodded immediately. “That’s perfect.” 

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

growlithe and/or arcanine please

[We haven’t covered either, so let’s start with the little guy] At last, we have a 2025 candidate that isn’t a straightforward “no”! Growlithes are so, so close to winning a “just a dog” ranking, I swear! It’s that pesky Fire-Typing that knocks the down, but not too too far! In fact, I’d go so far as to say that a Growlithe would be an excellent choice as a first Fire-Type option for pet owners who are interested in the type. Overall, a Growlithe would make a pretty good pet.

As you read through this post, you’re going to notice that “just a dog” energy right up until we get to their moves. At just two feet tall and at a very reasonable weight, growlithes are the ideal size for a house pet. Unlike many Fire-Type pokémon, these critters don’t have any physical features that could cause you passive harm if you come into contact with them, like open flame or magma, so handling them would be no different from, well, a dog.

The similarities don’t end with their appearance. These pokémon have a well-established history of acting as companions to humans, going way back into prehistory, according to recent research (Ultra Moon). They’re friendly, brave, trustworthy, intelligent, and profoundly loyal (Yellow, Gold, Silver, Sun). Wild growlithes can be a little more rough and defensive, but they acclimate to living with humans easily (Ultra Sun). Growlithes are very territorial, but in a distinctly dog-like way: when strangers come near your home, a Growlithe with bark at them, and occasionally bite if they get close enough, viciously to scare them away (Red/Blue). I would place this biting behavior in the concern category, but growlithes are known to be exceptionally easy to train. According to the pokédex, growlithes “will remain motionless until [they are] given an order by [their] trainer” (Diamond/Pearl/Platinum). Discouraging biting behavior should be a breeze, so long as you are willing to put in the time to train your ever-receptive growlithe.

It would be foolish, of course, to ignore how dangerous a poorly-trained growlithe could be. As Fire-Type pokémon, growlithes have no shortage of moves that could easily cause immense harm to a person or home, such as Flame Wheel or Flamethrower. However, given their preference for biting rather than scorching intruders, as evidenced by the pokédex, and they’re eagerness to listen to their trainers, the threat of a growlithe actually harming a person is very low. But, as I often say, we can’t ignore the possibility of an accident. Hence, the B ranking, rather than an A.

Overall, a growlithe would make a great pet option for anybody willing to put in the time to train them, and who is willing to put up with them barking at mailmen. One more note, which I’ll put down here because I don’t really have anywhere else to work it in, is that growlithe owners are really gonna want to growlithe-proof their kitchen! Growlithes have an exceptional sense of smell, and have a perfect memory of anything they’ve ever smelled, so they’re going to be able to track down treats and snacks wherever you try and hide them. Take care to get some child-locks, or something of the sort!