#boolger

[boolger]

Bear shapeshifter!John Price x Bear shapeshifter! Reader

Something something, John Price being the only bear shapeshifter on base. Not the only shapeshifter, but the only bear one. That was until you appeared.

Something something, after a long mission they go to the med bay and John instantly smelled that there was another bear - he was so distracted by the scent, that he didn’t even reply to his teammates or anything. Just sitting on a bench, blood dripping from his arm, nose in the air.

Something something cue you, a new nurse, stepping in - you were a bear shifter as well, and when you stepped into the room, you instantly found the bear you had been smelling around base.

John let out a tiny roar-like sound in greeting, before chuffing gently at you; he had to focus to not change into his bear form, a pleased grin on his smile over finally seeing one of his own kind.

You who were frozen for a moment, caught off guard with how handsome the other bear was, a little rugged from the long mission, but big and strong, handsome even though he stank of blood, dirt and sweat. You replied with a tiny roar yourself, a shy smile on your face.

Something something, Price immediately fell in love with you, constantly pretending to be hurt afterwards - stubbed his toe, can you take a look, luv? My back is really sore, maybe you should help me? I think I might be becoming sick, maybe you could do a test — just so he could go to you. He refused to be seen by any of the other nurses or even the doctors, so the staff pretty quickly just learned to send you, if he arrived with an almost nonexistent pain somewhere.

Something something, as you grow closer and learn more about it, you grow tired of him not trying to court you like a proper bear. Hibernation was coming up in a couple of months, and you would love to spend it with him in a den somewhere.

So, you changed into your bear form on your day off, going to a nearby forest. Two hours later - after a lot of running - you returned to base with a stag in your maw. It was dead, but still warm. The biggest one you could find, to show that you were a good hunter.

Something something, Gaz spotted you and offered to lead you to where Price was, even though he was in a meeting with Laswell. Gaz politely knocked, while you just pushed him out of the way with your head, headbutting the door for it to open.

Something something, Laswell just staring with a raised eyebrow and then she grinned, while John stared for a moment, eyes wide and with clear hearts in them. You let out a chuff, dead stag in your mouth onto the floor, barely inside the office; John didn’t even say anything, didn’t excuse himself, just changed form, the desk forced to move, all his clothes ripping - except his little hat that stayed on his head. He gave himself a good shake, before walking around the desk, little bear tail wagging happily. He let out a little chuff and you replied - then you backed out of the room, beginning to walk away, your own tail wagging.

John hurried to grab onto the stag, barely able to fit through the door to get out, before he hurried to walk beside you, letting out a pleased sound. Gaz awkwardly helped open some doors, so the two of you could get outside without ruining them.

Something something, Gaz, Soap, Ghost and Laswell all looked at the two of you with smiles on their faces, as you walked towards the forest to share the stag, both of your small tails wagging.

[tempfrangit]

💖 and 🛏️ for the ask game❤️❤️

Thank you @boolger 💚💚

💖 What is your primary writing goal for this year?

So I’ve answered my most immediate primary writing goal — buuuuuut I will use this opportunity to say: my primary writing habit goal for the new year is going to be take my time. I really want to get into the habit of not feeling like I have to write something and finish it immediately. I’m trying to not treat my free time hobbies as a job, where I start to hate everything I’m doing because I’m enforcing arbitrary deadlines on myself. 

🛏 Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year? 

Yes!! I really love tropes, honestly, and one I’ve always wanted to try my hand at is my favorite: What You Are in the Dark . Ever since I watched the Star Trek DS9 episode “In the Pale Moonlight,” it has lived rent free in my head, as one of the most beautifully done examples of the trope in my mind. CoD is kinda the perfect sandbox to try playing with this, but I admit I’m a little nervous because it is my favorite trope out there. 😅 

Writer Goal Ask List for a New Year 🎉

[stellewriites]

Ty for tagging me🥺❤️ until I do it, can I hear about ‘tonight the foxes hunt the hounds’?👀

hiii!! 💗

it’s one of the few on the list that isn’t cod-related! it’s a jaytim neo-noir dystopian sci-fi au, very 2049/blomkamp/alita esq

basically about tim finding and fixing a busted up android (jay), leading into big reveals and epic fights and love and the question of what makes us human etc etc

have a snippet :p

With the cheap alternative labor on the rise, it meant that an unimaginable number of jobs were lost practically overnight, and people were left to fend for themselves Below. And with no other way to make money, people started scavenging parts and making their own work when there was nothing else available.

Crime hit an all-time high barely a month after the start of the layoffs, but alongside the usual came underground fights between refurbished ‘bots, wired to shadow their trainers’ movements at the side lines; though it wasn’t uncommon to find them pitted against humans for a more visceral fight. The more blood, the more bets made.

It was usually people down on their luck that owed the wrong groups a lot of money; the only way to pay it back was through working for them or signing up for fight night. Years of dog work vs one night, it was easy to see why the desperate would choose it.

Alongside fighters, pleasure bots skyrocketed in popularity on both Earth 1 and 2, especially as the technology grew in leaps and strides. And healthcare bots had to be adapted with defence mechanisms after too many were ransacked for the drugs kept inside their plating and then again for the mech parts themselves.

The emergence of Artificial Intelligence within the robots changed things, but with no laws or legislation to protect androids, it did very little in their favour.

wip ask game

[bandanapir8]

Drop this sun ☀️ into the inboxes of the writers that inspire you!

[boolger]

Hi ily 🥺🥺❤️❤️

Also adding my cutie that is @nneedynymph ✨❤️

someone please throw a long cod one shot or series at my face i'm in desperate need of one and can't seem to find any :'(

[quarterlifekitty]

I mean this in the most polite, respectful, do only as you wish under zero pressure, way - I am FERAL for dog Johnny and am drooling and begging for more pretty please and thank you ignore my hybrid kink standing in the corner it’s fine we’re fine…unless you don’t want to :)

Uuuuuuuhhhhhhuuu let me start by saying I owe my dog soap illness to such pillars of the community as @boolger and @frogchiro so never forget that they walked so I could crawl around leaving a snail trail with my pussy.

cw: hybrid stuff

Dunno about you but I know my brain chemistry was permanently altered by lady and the tramp when I was a child. I never stood a chance.

So imagine Stray!Soap and Lady!Reader. He sees you every so often. On walks, laying your head in your owner’s lap as he reads the paper on the porch, scratching your ear, playing in the yard with your other owner as she tends to the garden.

Soap sniffs around in your yard at night, just the lightest traces of your scent drive him a little crazy. He decides to wait around— see if he can meet the little house-princess when she comes out in the mornings.

You have no idea what to make of him. He thinks it’s cute how your ears perk as you inspect him. No collar. Not like you— with your shiny little heart-shaped tag. You’re a little wary, but you figure there’s no harm in him being in the neighborhood.

And you know how it is with Soap. You give an inch, he’ll take a mile.

So he’ll wait right by the door near every damned morning. Just to say hello to the little lady. Smitten as can be.

Heehee and what if you had neighbors, also. Bloodhound!Price. Russian terrier! Or Newfoundland!Nikolai who’ve watched you become a young lady, and warn you to watch out for young dogs like Soap. Always a mess of trouble… you should be with someone who knows enough to look after you. Someone older, maybe. Not some young tramp looking to knot any pretty thing he can sink his teeth into…

[spiceywawa]

@boolger <-

I couldn't help myself and had to try doing this shite again and write my little idea inspired heavily? by their fic.

Kitty♡

Current -> Next

John price moved from the city and bought a farm with all the works. Cows, pigs, chickens, etc. He previously considered getting a hybrid kitten along his other hybrids but never did due to living deep in the city with not a lot of room. After his abrupt retirement, John decided why not to help make the farming/food industry just a little better.

He decided to start his farm, and funny enough, the farm came with its own kitty hybrid. A beautiful stone Grey short haired kitty that took care of rodents and smaller predators. Kitty would laze wherever they pleased and previously had the freedom to come and go around the property and house as they saw fit.

John never minded them, and on the listing for the farm, the hybrid was in the description as a poor kitty that was left behind. It took quite a bit of time to get the skittish kitty used to him and even let him close enough to smell him. It's not entirely surprising the cautious and skeptical looks kitty gives him because while their owner left kitty, and the seller forgot to mention the many working hybrid dogs they owned went with them Abandoning poor kitty, leaving them all alone with not one to cuddle with at night.

Sweet farm kitty hybrid only met John price at first, but little did they know John had his own three dog hybrids. All retired from military after many years of admirable service. Before John thought you were ready to meet his three boys, he set up your own room and safe spots around the giant farmhouse. Giving you your own designated space when you decided to stay in the house with him. Of course, at some point, when john gently lured you into your new room, it was somewhat of a shit show. You went as far as deciding using the window to the roof to come in, and out of the house was a better option than using the actual doors.

You eventually settled and decided the room was better than the hay loft and tried out being a couch potato. When you quietly and cautiously joined John on the new couch for the first time, he immediately froze to not deter you from approaching him. He watched you out of his peripheral lay next to him, resting your head on his thigh. Only when you relaxed and began quietly purring did he attempt to stroke your head, petting your fuzzy ears watching them flick at his gentle touch. After that encounter and many positive moments, john decided it was time to bring the boys home for good.

The boys often dog piled in John's room, so separate rooms for them were pretty much unnecessary unless they asked for it. They had freedom to roam and wouldnt be allowed in your room without permission, he doubted you would so he would make sure the boys knew if was off limits until otherwise said. But considering they had all the space they needed and john has the biggest room and bathroom amenities in the house, the boys had their own section of the room, including a corner cubby with their stuff and combined beds.

Of course, after being out of a strict military environment for so long the moment the boys arrived when they got a whiff of your scent, johnny and gaz scattered trying to find you and simon ended up chasing after johnny trying to get him to quit it. Gaz beat johnny to the punch, chasing you up above the fridge on top of the cabinets. He was leaning against the fridge, wagging his tail sniffing the air, trying to get closer to you, curiosity and excitement emanating from him. When johnny heard the commotion, he wriggled away from simons grip toward gaz. John yelled stop, and all his hybrids looked at him.

You were less amused than the three behemoths before you. Johnny and gaz both whined, saying they only wanted to meet their new friend, and simon was glaring at the two having more self-control of his instincts and curiosity. John cringed at the poor first introduction. The low growl in your throat brought everyone's attention back to you. John shooed the three away simon, grabbing the two by their harnesses being the most dominant out of the three.

You glared at John as he began trying to coax you in getting down. "It's alright, my pretty girl. You're ok. Those two aren't gonna get ya, I promise." He coos at you. In John's defense, he told the three to behave simon was indifferent, but gaz and johnny were the ones he was worried about. You watch him with your ears pinned down and tail flicking rapidly in annoyance as he is trying to get you down with treats and your favorite toy your, very first toy ever. But you don't budge for a solid 20 minutes. "Come on, sweet kitty, there are all a bunch of big ol teddy bears they aren't gonna hurt ya." He says to you, running his finger down the bridge of your nose as you won't let him pet you.

Johnny and Gaz are sitting a few feet away patiently waiting for you to come down and allow them to scent you and say hello, their tails swishing excitedly behind them. They are all definitely German Shepard or a mix of one you can see that much, and they are all ridiculously large compared to you.

Simon is standing next to John, watching you with a curious expression. You eye him, taking in his scared face and equally battered fuzzy ears nestles in blond hair. Much to everyone's surprise, simon reaches up and grabs you gently, taking you off the fridge and into his big arms. You freeze from shock as simon settles you against his chest, holding you with one arm. You latch onto him to prevent yourself from falling, watching his face suspiciously.

Simon traces the scars on your face and arms from fending of other critters around the farm. "That's simon Kitty." John says, trying not to laugh as your frozen form clutches to simon. You frown as johnny and Gaz laugh, simons low chuckle vibrating through you. "You're a stubborn little thing." Simon says as he sits down next to the other two, positioning you in his lap, keeping a protective distance from gaz and johnny.

His tail swishes behind him as you let him hold you, unsure if you're gonna bolt or stay. You settle to johns surprise, holding onto simons arm, watching the other two scoot closer. You did miss your pack mates, so you tolerated the curiosity for a bit unsure if this was even gonna be permanent. Simon watches gaz close as he scents you first, seeing as he did find you first. He sniffs for a bit, his nose gently bumping your chin as he sniffs higherup your neck, simon lets out a low growl, telling gaz that's enough. Johnny takes that as his cue that it's his turn and bounds in face first into your neck. Simon reaches for johnny, pulling him away. "Careful with the lil thing, johnny. Don't wanna break em do you?" He shakes his head rapidly tail going a mile a minute. John chimes in watching this interaction unfold. "Gentle boys." He says, watching your face for any discomfort.

The only feeling you have is confusion. Have they never seen a cat hybrid before? And why are you letting them so close so quickly?

Simon lets Johnny's scruff go, and he gently smells you for a bit. Then simon tells them you're done, and it's his turn. He breathes in your scent, enjoying the sweet, subtle scent holding you closer

You sigh, giving up, seeing as much simon claimed you technically it seems they all did, and this is your life now. It doesn't seem so bad, really, you could get used to this.

[boolger]

Aaa this is a really good little guide - and I’m very honoured to have my lil Gaz fic featured 🥰🥰

Heeeeyyyyy p. I am an awkward soul with an awkward question, but how does ao3 work? I noticed a lot of writers are speaking of migrating there and doing things that I don’t quite understand LMAO. I tried looking into the website but honestly, it seems so daunting and I am a terrified chicken who would rather recede into the pits of hell than do something “wrong” on that website.

I dunno if you are the right person to request of this, but you are always so kind when answering questions so i figured who else is better than to scream into the void at?

Pls disregard if you aren’t interested in answering/don’t feel like it!

Have a great day/night/evening/tea time 😽

hi anon! don't feel bad for reaching out, one of my favourite things in the world is showing people how to do things (you know that chill coworker who goes "okay, so i do it like this..." when they show you things? that's who i want to be in the world). if my handy guide doesn't make sense to you, please please please feel free to come back and ask clarifying questions and i'll wrack my brain on how best to help you!

i'd be remiss if i didn't point you in the direction of AO3's guide on how to search and browse the archive first of all. it's a bit wordy so if that isn't to your liking i've made a little video below the cut on how to use ao3 on a laptop below the cut:

Warnings for potential flickering, scrolling motions and flashing.

[ID: A 3 minute video with no audio showing a basic guide on how to use AO3. /END ID]

so that's a pretty bare bones way of using ao3 as non-member!

step 1: search for the fandom you want to explore.

step 2: use the drop down menu to tailor your fanwork selection to something you might want to read by using the filters on the right hand side.

tags are the ingredient list of what you can expect to find in a fic, you can also search by using the tags if there's something in particular you've taken a fancy to (or you can use the "exclude" button to avoid seeing it - just like i excluded konig from my selections).

the rating system is used to filter out mature content, if you click on something rated M, E or Not Rated you should get a little warning at the top advising you that the work you're about to view may include adult content and you agree that you wish to see that content.

step 3: check the tags and summary to see what piques your interest (in my case i chose @boolger 's "a love letter to gaz" because i thought it was fitting).

step 4: click on your desired fic or fanwork and enjoy!

step 5: leave a kudos AND a comment (it doesn't have to be lengthy, it can be a little note to say "i loved this! thank you for writing it!) when you're done.

i recommend asking for an invite to join ao3 so you can see all the lovely archive locked fanworks (fanworks that are hidden from non-members) like mine! it doesn't take long to get an invitation and you can still browse the archive as a non-member in the meantime.

anyway, i hope this helped just a little bit for you anon.

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 1

AO3 link. next chapter -> Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 4,147

Maybe support me on kofi?🥺👉👈

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

Summary: When Price was young and left his childhood home, a farm in the middle of nowhere in England, he didn’t enter the military. Instead he moved to London, got a degree and a good career, earning good money. He got you, a human dog hybrid as a pet, after feeling lonely - and you lived your best life for years, spoiled and pampered, Price’s lapdog who got praised at every party. Loved and fucked every night. That was until Price decided to return to his roots and go back to farming - dragging you along to the middle of nowhere, away from all the wonders of the big city. Expecting you to accept this sudden change in lifestyle and pretend to be a farm dog. Bad luck however, because you fucking hated it, and became more and more unruly. In hopes of getting you to calm down and to keep his live-stock and farm safe, Price then got three working dog hybrids - and all at once, your life was even worse than before.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

author's note: Hi sinners <33 Just a heads up; the reader is gonna be a spoiled brat. If you want a smart and sweet reader who isn’t mean at times, well. Bad news. This ain’t it.🥰The reader is she / her and has a pussy and is chubby. I tried my best to keep the descriptions somewhat vague otherwise. Reader is a cocker spaniel hybrid. I will tell the others along the way. In this universe, hybrids have ears, tail, claws beneath nails and canine fangs. There will be heats and ruts but there is no omegaverse. They will have personality traits of their dog breed and so on. Now. I know there aren’t wild wolves in the UK… but in this fic there is, ok? mwah.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The countryside was peaceful compared to the city; the absence of the bustling streets and constant traffic, created a quietness that was indescribable.

Out here, at the new farm, the noises only came from animals that lived in the stables and barn or the occasional rumble as a tractor turned on. The wind caressed the never ending fields of wheat and the long rows of fruit trees, under which the goats and sheep walked most days.

The stress here wasn’t the same kind as in the city. Sure , there were stressful moments and sometimes Price looked like he needed to sleep for more than just the few hours he got everyday.

But he didn’t have to worry about the morning traffic, waiting in a queue for an overpriced, questionable tea or coffee. There was no need for him to wear a suit, no noisy, overfilled train cars in the underground. No crowded dog or hybrid parks, no meetings or rules to follow - except those John Price decided for himself.

He was happy, so much was clear to you. It had been three months since the move - Johnhad gone back to his roots, buying back the farm that his parents had used to own a little while ago, using some of his endless wealth on renovating the place. There was no step on the stairs that was loose, like it used to when he was a kid - sure they still creaked, but you weren’t afraid they would disappear from beneath you.

It was modernized, but most of the old charm left. Price fit right in; the furniture he had inherited and never believed he would use was suddenly in the living room. His knowledge of the business world was abandoned in the city, for the knowledge of farming that he still had left from his youth. John got a couple of farm hands and workers, who helped him with the big place.

It was like he reclaimed his own self that had been buried beneath the suits, ties and paperwork. Now he didn’t smoke his cigars from stress, but from pleasure, clearly much content.

It was like the farm had truly made John Price happy once more; his smiles more genuine, his true self stepping forth. Returning to his childhood home and taking over the farm had been the best decision Price had made. There was no question about it.

… and you hated every bloody day at the farm.

The early morning hours in bed with him, being disturbed by the farm waking up, the rooster crowing and John leaving the bed, giving you a pat in between your ears, taking all the heat with him. The constant bugs, the muddy stables and the big animals, the helpers who always teased you for not fitting in, the lack of friends you had out here. The foxes’ screams in the night, the wolves howling, and the cows occasionally mooing sounded like creatures stepping out of nightmares.

You were not made for farm life. Literally. Simply not made for it.

Some would argue that you, as a hybrid pet, didn’t have a say in it and sure , legally you didn’t. But you were a lapdog, an elegant pet. Not a farm dog. Created to be cared for and cuddled, you were a purebred cocker spaniel hybrid; you weren’t made to run around on a farm, following John on his duties And doing work. 

Sure, you had the instincts to hunt a few things here and there, but it was mostly balls and the occasional bird or squirrel. You weren’t a guard hybrid, not really a working dog.

You had had enough trauma throughout your life - you deserved not to be forced into this! You had grown up being trained to be a lapdog, not a working-dog like you felt like John expected you to act like now.

You wanted John to be happy, you really did - you loved your Master! When he bought you a few years ago, when you were still aggressive and unruly (… more than now at least), you had thought he would tire of you like everybody else had. But with patience, rules, training, praise and punishment and a whole lot of sex later, you were a perfect hybrid pet for the city! People always praised how well you looked, laughing when Price said you were really a little troublemaker. You would follow him throughout the fancy apartment, on your daily walks, sometimes for meetings.

But why the fuck did it have to be a farm? He worked somwwhat the same time that he did before, genuinely seeming to enjoy himself. Forgetting about poor you!

Out here, there were no hybrid daycare that you would go to when he had long days, there were none of your playmates nearby, everything stank of animals and there were no places nearby for you to get your hair and fur styled and pampered! No nail technicians, no fancy cafes, no shops for John to buy you things in! No special made coffee or chef-made meals every other evening, no freshly baked croissants.

You felt like you had tried . You really had. 

But after the first week, you had your first breakdown - and as the weeks passed, they didn’t stop. At first, John was sympathetic, like the perfect owner he was.

Cooing at you, kissing your forehead, as he gently scratched your ears. Kissing away any tears, saying it was okay - that you were just overwhelmed, that it would be okay. That you would come to like it out here.

Big fucking joke.

He had tried every trick in the book, in an attempt to please you and made you less upset, but as days turned into weeks and tantrums began to appear, you knew his patience began to disappear.

He followed professional advice and then the advice of the neighbors down the street, Rodolfo and Alejandro (who had caught you running away at one point), tried some of the workers’ advice. He had given you your own room, and it was mostly designed like your own, perfect to the pale green paint on the wall, all your toys and dog beds, your CDs - everything. He had tried hauling you along every day, trying to give you a routine to follow - but after two weeks, he gave up, not having the energy to deal with a tantrum that got worse and worse each day. He went on walks with you, fucked you silly, tried his best — and you didn’t want it.

No, you wanted to go back to your old life. Not this country life that you hadn’t signed up for, with horses that neighed loudly whenever you passed them; they were definitely going to trample you at the first chance, you knew that. You could hear foxes scream in the night, warning you of the dangers. The goats and sheep were so fucking loud and no you didn’t want to go pick fresh apples off the trees - had he seen the size of the spiders crawling on them?

When you in one of your biggest tantrums took off and bolted from the farm in distress, Rodolfo and Alejandro had almost hit you when you emerged from the corn fields onto the road. 

You had cried the entire drive home, no matter what the two men had tried saying, especially as Rodolfo called Price in advance — your master was livid . The worst thing was, that it was not that kind of anger where he yelled at you before punishing you - no, this one was almost silent, a sharp grip on your collar as he dragged you along after thanking his neighbours.

He had belted you then, ignoring your crying and screaming, only stopping when you broke, sobbing and going quiet. He had explained it to you then, what could have happened, what dangers you could have ended in - and as you sobbingly apologized and tried to explain, that you wanted to go back to the city, John had sighed .

Said that he had pampered you too much since he got you, which had made you greedy and attention seeking. Which only made you cry more, as you hid your face in his neck, fingers digging into his shirt, ass cheeks burning.

“Spoiled rotten, little birdie,” he mused, though you could hear the softness in him, your tail wagging a little, hoping to get him to be less mad.

“‘M sorry,” you had whined in distress, upset with yourself as well, ears tipping down, “wanna be good but I don’t like it.”

Your rather dull escape attempt resulted in several things. An AirTag on your collar, so that he always knew where you were. A remarkable lack of treats, sex and then… the crate .

You fucking hated the dog crate. 

Sure, it hadn’t been nice of you to bite one of his pillows into a simple pulp of fabric, feathers everywhere. Or create chaos in the kitchen… or get drunk on his fancy whiskey (that one had ended worse for you, hangover was a bitch and there wasn’t much sympathy from John). And yes, you might have ripped most of the flowers surrounding the house up, until one of the workers had caught you. Maybe pissing yourself in the middle of the living room while staring him in the eyes and ignoring his warnings had been a little…excessive. 

But the dog crate? You hated that thing with a burning passion. 

Hated it when he locked you up, ignoring your whimpers and whines, your promises to behave, ignoring your little howls as he left. 

Mean. The farm had made him mean. Perhaps you had become a bit unruly too, but it was like he didn’t take your clear suffering seriously.

Mean and happy - unruly and suffering. What a pair you were. One of the workers, KAte Laswell, who was a big helper and often stayed over for dinner, suggested a fucking shock collar. You had growled, only stopped when John sent you a sharp look. 

You had even heard him talking over the phone with somebody, saying that he didn’t want to rehome you, but he didn’t know what to do.

That had made you melt a little and you had cried as you had crawled into his bed a couple of hours later, begging him to not abandon you. Fears of never getting to see John again or being loved again by him made you cling onto him as he kissed away your tears, gently fucking you.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

It was a random morning a couple of days later, that you found him still in the kitchen, reading the newspaper, humming to himself while smoking a cigar.

He looked nice like this. Despite how he sometimes muttered about being too old, he wasn’t really that old. Late thirties, and perhaps it was the peace on his face or the sun rays that kissed him, which made him look younger. But still. There was a decade between you, but days like this, you were reminded that it didn’t matter.

“Are you going to stare all day or are you going to join me, Darling?” He asked teasingly, pulling you from your thoughts. You let out a little huff and kissed him good morning, receiving a pat on the ass before you sat down on your own seat. It had been a while since the two of you had eaten together - often he was up at the crack of dawn, so his calm behavior and gentle humming was unusual to say the least.

“Why are you not working?” You asked carefully, as you ate some of the bread, trying to ignore how it wasn’t a fancy sourdough one - though you were pretty sure he had picked it up from a local bakery in the village which was a little drive away.

“Because,” he put the paper down, then tapping some ash off the cigar into his ashtray, before looking over at you, a pleased smile on his face, “you and I are going on a trip.”

“A trip?” You didn’t even bother to be embarrassed about how your voice got higher with excitement or how your tail thumped against the backrest of the chair as you wagged it, “where are we going? When? Can we go now?”

Price had laughed, a happy sound that you knew not many got to hear; it made your heart beat a little faster, made you feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“Well, we got to do a few things first to get ready, and you ,” he used the cigar to point at you, your tail wagging a little faster, “need to not freak out when I tell you where we are going.”

Despite the warning, tears streamed down your cheeks when he told you. John didn’t get mad as a part of you had expected; he knew your abandonment issues first hand, knew how you had been left behind before, from one bad owner to another. 

“You’re going to sell me and leave me with a mean owner and I’m gonna die of hunger and thirst - and - and —“

“Not gonna leave you, princess,” John crooned, covering your face in kisses as you hiccuped and sniffled, clinging to his clothes, “you know that. My favorite puppy. Pretty girl.”

Despite your tears and small sobs, your tail wagged at his words, “silly puppy,” he mused with a smile, gently scratching your lower back, “‘m not gonna sell you. Ale and Rodolfo are looking for a hybrid, I figured we could go look at the auction as well.”

“What if - what if - what if you’ll like them more?” You sniffled dramatically, sure that your life was only going to become worse than it already was. One thing was this bloody farm and the crate, another thing was having to share Price. You didn’t like the idea one bit. If that happened, you were going to show him how a proper tantrum was thrown - the crate would probably be the least of your worries.

As if to prove his love, John bent you over the table, fucking you in between the clattering dishes and cutlery, tea and coffee almost spilling over. Despite how many times your owner fucked you, it made you lose control of your mind every single time. His cock reached so deep inside you that it bordered on pain, your mouth open as you panted and moaned at each thrust; your soft stomach being pressed against the edge of the table, one hand holding onto the back of your collar, the other on your tail. The table rattled, John groaned and moaned, your fingers desperately trying to hold onto anything. 

“My princess,” he snarled darkly into your ear, “you’ll always be mine-“ a moan, a grunt, “- no matter what happens, yeah?”

“Yes ye-ah- yes, sir, I’m yours - ah ah - I’m yours!” you managed in between pants and wails of pleasure, fear of abandonment forgotten in the ocean of euphoric satisfaction. 

You came harder than you had for a while; the reminder of your worth, of how you deserved his worship, making you cream around his throbbing length, legs in spasms afterwards. He pushed deeper, filling you up with a loud roar like sound, his hands moving to grab onto the fat of your ass and hips as he came. Pain and pleasure made your toes curl and a content sigh left you, your tail wagging against Price as he chuckled.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The auction hall was filled to the brim with humans and hybrids alike. Every owned hybrid followed their respective owners, all wearing mandatory leashes so no pets would be confused with the ones that were being sold. You wore your own pink one with pride, gem stones sparkling. A matching leash connected to the D-ring on it, that also bore your tags. You were convinced yours were the most beautiful in this entire place.

“They’re bonded,” Laswell pointed out, pointing to the papers that hung nearby, showing off general information about them, “gotta get all three.”

You dared to look at the little board with the informations about the three hybrids they were looking at.

“Ah, we don't have space for three, mi amor.”

“eso es una pena,” Rodolfo answered, while you looked over at John - who kept looking at the three hybrids. You dared to peek over at them.

All three of them were enormous .

Two of them wore muzzles, meaning they were biters. At least at the auction. You shouldn’t judge then, not really, but you did... Even though you had worn a muzzle five years ago, when Price had chosen you. You hadn’t tried biting people out of malice; you had been scared and angry at the world. Angry for being abandoned once more, over the fact that you were most likely being passed on to another abusive master. You leaned a little closer to Price, taking in his scent.

Even from the start, despite all the problems and your attitude problems, he had been sweet. Strict at times — probably not enough — but kind.

The biggest one looked like a Great Pyrenees breed, most likely. The fur on his ears and tail looked shorter, badly cut. Probably due to matting or if he refused to get it cut. His hair, a dark blonde almost brown, was in a buzz cut. He had scars, all over - unable to hide because of the lack of clothes most hybrids were given, only underwear. There was a lot in his face, though you suspected a bunch were hidden by the muzzle. He stared into nothing, his ears curled back, though they moved now and again, listening to different sounds.

“Hard to get sold,” Laswell commented and you looked over at her in synchronicity with John, “they’re ex-military.”

Like he had been called to them, a man who wore one of the seller badges appeared.

“They’re obedient once they fall into place,” he happily explained, going full seller-mode, “they’re just not too fond of the auctions - too many people.”

“Makes sense,” Price mused, clearly interested - much to your annoyance. The fact that he asked follow up questions made you frown, fingers tightening in his shirt. He was here to look. To help Alejandro and Rodolfo, who both had continued their walk. You dared to look over at the hybrids again. All three were staring at you and John. 

“How come they were discharged?”

“One of them got a hearing loss -“ he nodded towards them, “the one with the mohawk. And they’re a bonded pack.”

“So only retiring him was out of the question,” John concluded once more looking over at them.

You felt your tail go in between your legs. He couldn’t be seriously considering those three . you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. Price gave your leash a little tug.

“They’re working dogs,” the seller continued, his eyes flickering to you, making you huff, “so they’ll need something to do, not just be pets.”

“Oh I know. I have a farm. Need some work dogs - this one isn’t guarding much.”

They all laughed, your tail going even further between your legs with embarrassment.

“You can’t be serious,” you whined in a whisper to John, not caring that you sounded needy - spoiled would Laswell had said and you ignored her as she rolled her eyes.

“Hush, Princess.” John didn’t even look at you.

“You have animals there?” The seller asked, “one of them is a herding dog - the border collie.”

“I do - several. That’s why there's a need for guarding dogs as well, bloody wolves have been terrorizing us.”

You knew he was telling the truth; he had muttered about dead sheeps and goats several times - even a calf had lost its life to the wolves in the area, despite he and Laswell having shot two already. Even foxes had gotten into the coop, despite the fences.

“They’re good at that too, with their training,” the seller offered, clearly interested in selling them or at least getting John to bid on them. “The one with the mohawk, Soap , will have hearing aids with him, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

You looked over at this “Soap”, scrunching your nose. They were still staring, the biggest one bending down to listen to the third one, a beautiful black man, whisper in his ear. No doubt judging you.

“It says here they don’t do well with others,” you muttered, in a desperate attempt to sway John, pointing to the board with their papers. It did indeed say so, to which you wanted to argue that YOU should be his main focus in this whole thing - how would he even consider adding them to your household if these dogs could get a hold of you?

“It’s in the sense that they’re not really housetrained to be social family pets,” the seller swooped in, pushing your argument away, annoying you even more, “they’ve had missions all their lives. They need to have something to do.”

“I’m sure you’ll get along with them, sweetheart,” Price answered, giving you a small scratch beneath your chin as he finally looked over at you, a glint in his eyes, “some company will do you good.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Hardly . Price’s smile told you that he thought this was a great idea however. You dared to look at the men again. Still staring, fucking bastards.

The black man seemed like a mix of some breeds, German shepherd and… you looked shortly at the board. Belgian malinois. Fancy. He wasn’t as tall as the big one, but broad and with scars as well. There was a more slender look to him, but his six pack proved he was strong. His curly hair wasn’t too long, probably cut not too long ago. He was looking at you curiously, making you raise your upper lip a little, as if to warn him.

The one with the hearing loss looked like some sort of border collie - covered in scars as well, some of his skin looking like it had been too close to fire. He was broad like the two others, his upper arms the size of your head. He even sent you a cheeky grin, even daring to wink at you. You just looked away, tipping your chin up a little.

“You can look closer if you want, sir?”

You were pulled back into the conversation at once and before you could argue, John had already passed on your leash to Laswell and walked towards the men with the seller. You whined, distressed that he was really, actually considering this.

“You’ll be fine,” Laswell commented calmly, with empathy in her voice for once, though she didn’t look at you, merely at John and the others.

“He is gonna lose interest in me,” you whined, perhaps a little dramatically, bottom lip wobbling a little as you could feel tears welling up in your eyes, “then he’ll leave me in the crate all day and only care about them an—“

“Calm down,” Laswell said, “you’ll work yourself into a fuss.”

“He can’t do this to me,” you argued in a sullen voice, already imagining John forgetting all about you, focusing on these three hybrids for the rest of his life, leaving you cold and lonely inside the dog crate - maybe even rehoming you, “he promised he wouldn’t get rid of me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Laswell answered just as calmly as before, “John loves you too much, you’re just being spoiled. Hanging out with some working dogs will do you good.”

“They probably have fleas,” you said, your prejudices seeping into your words, knowing you’re being mean, judgmental against your own kind, “they’ll kill me and eat my dead body.”

Laswell laughed. “No they won’t. Worst thing they’ll do, is probably knock you up.”

A high pitched, scandalized sound left you, despite knowing you had an implant. Laswell laughed again, giving your leash a little yank and then scratching you behind your long ears.

“Settle, Princess. That won’t happen without John’s permission.”

You almost cried at the sight of John shaking the seller’s hand.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

They all met up again for the actual auction part and you sat at John’s feet, sniffling a little. Crying hadn’t helped, in fact John had just petted and kissed you, calling you sensitive. Alejandro had gotten a hybrid earlier that they didn’t need to bid on - she was for sale for a certain price. Something about being too intense without enough space to roam, having attacked others before.

Fucking great. Beasts all around you.

John won the bidding on the three working dog hybrids he had been interested in - because of course he did. He spent way too much money on them too, according to you.

One more - or well, three more fucking things to hate about this “farming life” that had been forced upon you.

Maybe John had gone mad.

next chapter ->

[tempfrangit]

Question 5 and 12, tee hee 👉👈

Of course Boolger 💚💚

5) How many wips do you have?  What fandoms/pairings are they for?

I just counted and I have uhh — 60 wips that I plan to finish（〃・ω・〃）

It’s mostly CoD x Reader, but there’s some Fallout, DC, and DunMeshi character x character stuff. I have some older fics from a long time ago that I want to think of returning to or restarting (not sure yet, the fandom doesn’t seem like the best but I’m already writing a DC pairing no one but me wants so like???? I do what the rats tell me to do)

12) Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?

So yes, in a loose, manic way. I start with a fic’s beginning and ending and throw in one or two ideas I think could be interesting in the middle then write what strikes. This means I’m starting in multiple spots through the fic in writing sessions or when doing checks, so sometimes things are moved around to where they make more sense now or they get deleted outright but filed away for a future idea unencumbered by the rest of the fic. I have changed endings on a few things, as the fic unfolds and the spirit moves me (ृ˄·͈༝·͈˄ ृ )

[soaps-used-urn]

Gaz fics by other creators

Red= dark fic

Orange- fem reader

Green- g/n Reader

Purple- male reader

? - I'm not exactly sure

(I’ll keep adding DONT get mad bc there may be more than others..)

Merman gaz - @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries

Love letter to gaz - @boolger

Hindsight - @xoxunhinged

Desperation - @batfleshh

Hindsight - @xoxunhinged ?

Reluctancy - @ram-bam-writes

Espresso martinis - @imperihoe-writes

Pretty boy - @aethelwyneleigh27

Boyfriend gaz - @ace-inthehole

Ur alive - @mockerycrow

Neighbor gaz - @astroknottt

Better not to know .2 - @random-thot-generator

Doll hyper fixation - @celestialprincesse

Yours to tame - @spicyspiders

Falling asleep on him - @witchthewriter (tf141 included)

Hoodie - @spicyspiders

Only you -@roosterr

The edge of chaos - @ethereal-night-fairy

Welcome home wash day -@kyletogaz

Shaken not stirred - @391780

Cowboy gaz - @agoofyannoyancetolaw

Situationship Kyle - @kyletogaz ?

Rough day - @princeguri66

Under ur spell - @groguspicklejar

It’s a match! - @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries (tf141 included)

Manscaping - @tfone4one

Lavender skies - @yeyinde

Whiskers & Wishes - @sageyxbabey

Single dad Kyle - @xoxunhinged

Pornstar gaz - @cordeliawhohung

Mafia gaz - @writingfromasgard

Gaz healthy relationship- @thegnomelord

Dividers by - @cafekitsune

Header by - @sonizitos

[pfhwrittes]

Heeeeyyyyy p. I am an awkward soul with an awkward question, but how does ao3 work? I noticed a lot of writers are speaking of migrating there and doing things that I don’t quite understand LMAO. I tried looking into the website but honestly, it seems so daunting and I am a terrified chicken who would rather recede into the pits of hell than do something “wrong” on that website.

I dunno if you are the right person to request of this, but you are always so kind when answering questions so i figured who else is better than to scream into the void at?

Pls disregard if you aren’t interested in answering/don’t feel like it!

Have a great day/night/evening/tea time 😽

hi anon! don't feel bad for reaching out, one of my favourite things in the world is showing people how to do things (you know that chill coworker who goes "okay, so i do it like this..." when they show you things? that's who i want to be in the world). if my handy guide doesn't make sense to you, please please please feel free to come back and ask clarifying questions and i'll wrack my brain on how best to help you!

i'd be remiss if i didn't point you in the direction of AO3's guide on how to search and browse the archive first of all. it's a bit wordy so if that isn't to your liking i've made a little video below the cut on how to use ao3 on a laptop below the cut:

Warnings for potential flickering, scrolling motions and flashing.

[ID: A 3 minute video with no audio showing a basic guide on how to use AO3. /END ID]

so that's a pretty bare bones way of using ao3 as non-member!

step 1: search for the fandom you want to explore.

step 2: use the drop down menu to tailor your fanwork selection to something you might want to read by using the filters on the right hand side.

tags are the ingredient list of what you can expect to find in a fic, you can also search by using the tags if there's something in particular you've taken a fancy to (or you can use the "exclude" button to avoid seeing it - just like i excluded konig from my selections).

the rating system is used to filter out mature content, if you click on something rated M, E or Not Rated you should get a little warning at the top advising you that the work you're about to view may include adult content and you agree that you wish to see that content.

step 3: check the tags and summary to see what piques your interest (in my case i chose @boolger 's "a love letter to gaz" because i thought it was fitting).

step 4: click on your desired fic or fanwork and enjoy!

step 5: leave a kudos AND a comment (it doesn't have to be lengthy, it can be a little note to say "i loved this! thank you for writing it!) when you're done.

i recommend asking for an invite to join ao3 so you can see all the lovely archive locked fanworks (fanworks that are hidden from non-members) like mine! it doesn't take long to get an invitation and you can still browse the archive as a non-member in the meantime.

anyway, i hope this helped just a little bit for you anon.

[red5cars]

Writing game: post the last line that you wrote and tag someone for every word in the line.

thank you @pricegouge , i have actually wrote smth today muahaha.

home has always been a foreign concept to simon.

going to attempt no repeats

@izzabela @beloveds-embrace @boolger @glossysoap @simonbrain @tojisun @yeyinde @devil-in-hiding @machveil

[stellewriites]

Writing game: post the last line that you wrote and tag someone for every word in the line.

tagged by @xoxunhinged @syoddeye @pricegouge @boolger @pricetagged @red5tars @captainjamster and @ladykelsi 💗 sorry it’s late!

i’ve been doing a bit of editing for sweet kisses in my embrace

he coaxed out the last of his cum with a firm grip and groaned lewdly at the sight of you beneath him, flushed sweetly, sweaty in the pits, and rumpled beyond measure.

and that is…. far to many words to tag the equiv amount of people especially bc i think everyone’s already done this but i’ll give it a go :p

npt: @luvrodite @dozeydaisy @jackrabbitem @starsofang @yeriminder @streetlightglow @femalefemur @dragonnarrative-writes @spidehpig @xxshadowbabexx @the-californicationist @secretsynthetic @eowynstwin

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Rules: without naming them, post a gif of ten of your favourite films, then tag ten people to do the same.

Thanks for the tags: @nekrosmos, @trickythedino, @boolger (sorry if I misremembered the first two).

Tagging: @gomzdrawfr @round--robin @jayofolympus @s0fter-sin @mikeyisbrooklyn @soap-brain @karlachismylife @panchulien @laswells-ashtray @whostarlockeda03 (and anyone else as I got to ten)

[quarterlifekitty]

Rules: without naming them, post a gif of ten of your favourite films, then tag ten people to do the same

I wasn’t tagged but I’m a slut who love movie

No pressure tags: @pricetagged @pricegouge @machveil @nightunite @femalefemur @boolger @syoddeye @dante-mightdie

Sorry if you’ve already done this I’m scatterbrained lol