#dont worry pet

[umeboshi--bones]

dont imagine shattered dream>:)

CW: yandere

Don't imagine that you're sitting, by yourself, brain mired in negative thoughts, the stress and pain of your life drowning you.

Don't imagine the overwhelming wave of negativity suddenly rising around you only to be succinctly silenced.

Dont imagine that everything goes silent around you, unnaturally so, you can't even hear your own heartbeat; tendrils crawl into your vision, you feel something press against your back.

Don't imagine a smooth, velvet voice, cooing to you almost lovingly?

"Oh, darling, sweet girl, what darkens your heart so? I could taste it, so far from me. Tell me, whisper it if you find it easier."

Don't imagine breaking under the thoughts in your head, and tearfully you whisper to the darkness.

Don't imagine the darkness clicking its tongue and the tentacles hovering around you begins to make a cocoon around you.

Don't imagine the edge in his voice when he discovers that the source of your soul splitting sadness happens to be downstairs.

Don't imagine the darkness condensing before you, a skeleton made of darkness and sludge emerging. He smiles at you, it is sad and doesn't match his voice.

Don't imagine he turns and takes your headphones from your desk, placing them snugly to your ears, a tentacle scrolling through your music list on your phone, to choose one with the most plays.

"You do not want to listen to anything but what is in these headphones, my dear."

Dont imagine the smile on his face sharpens, he turns back to undulating shadow and slips out of the cracks of the bedroom door.

Especially don't imagine he returns to you moments later, to bring you up to him as he floats supported by two thick tentacles, pressing a kiss to your forehead, murmuring that you will be so much happier with him, this universe doesn't deserve a soul like yours.

And what ever you do, don't imagine that the surge of happiness that floods you feels a little tinged with dread as you look into that burning amber eye studying your face.

Or the smirk that stretches a crescent of brilliant white across his dark face, as your vision blurs and a nothingness takes you, as you are taken from the universe by his arms, by his kiss.

Oh and don't imagine the absolute wipe of your AU, ending in terror and blood, all for you beloved, all for you darling.

All. For. You.

[firewasabeast]

Hey CJ! Idk if you take prompts (I loved your most recent ficlet)

BUT any thoughts on how Buck and Tommy annoy each other (on purpose)??

ahhh thank you so much! I'm always taking prompts, it just sometimes takes me a while to get to them. here's a two-in-one fic for you!

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

Tommy looked over across the couch, where Buck was staring down at a crossword as he clicked his pen. Over and over.

“Do you need a new pen?” Tommy asked, keeping his tone calm and casual.

“Huh?” It took a second for Buck to register what he'd asked. “Oh, no. No, I'm good, thanks,” he said, glancing over at him with a smile.

Tommy returned the smile, then went back to reading his magazine.

Click click click clickclick click click.

Tommy took a long, deep breath.

Click click click click click click click click click.

“You sure?” He asked again, his voice going up an octave. “I have a whole drawer of them.”

And they're the kind with caps, he added to himself.

Buck shook his head. “Nope, this one works just fine.”

Click click click click click click. Click. Click. Click.

Click click click click clickclick-

Tommy closed the magazine and squeezed his eyes shut. “For the love of God, Evan, please stop.”

“Ha! So it does bother you!” Buck exclaimed, pointing the pen to Tommy with a triumphant look on his face.

“Does the endless pen clicking bother me? Yeah, maybe a little.”

Buck shook his head, relaxing further into the couch. “Finally.”

“Finally what?”

“I finally found something that makes Mr. Cool lose his cool.”

Tommy huffed out a laugh. “I did not lose my cool, thank you very much.”

“You looked like a pressure cooker that was about to explode.”

“So you were doing all of that just to annoy me?” Tommy asked, a playful glare on his face.

“After about the third click, yes.”

“And if I didn't stop you, you were what? Gonna click the entirety of We Will Rock You?”

Buck tilted his head, looking more impressed than anything now. “Y- You knew the song?”

“Of course I knew the song. Who wouldn't know that song?”

“I just didn't realize I was so talented. I could quit my job, begin a professional career as a click artist.”

Tommy opened his magazine back up, crossing one leg over the other. “I'd stick with firefighting if I were you.”

They were just settling back into a peaceful silence when:

Click click.

“Okay.” Tommy reached across the couch and pulled the pen out of Buck's hand before getting up and heading for the trash.

“Wait! No!” Buck exclaimed. “I just had to finish the line in the song. I was done.”

Tommy raised the lid to the garbage can and dropped the pen in it. “You can get another pen out of the drawer beside you. One with a cap,” he added quickly, “not a clicker.”

“You're no fun,” Buck teased, opening the drawer and grabbing another pen. “Oh, I see some clickers in here, Babe. I could do a rendition of Come Sail Away for you!”

Tommy walked back over to Buck, standing right in front of him on the couch. “I love you, Evan, but if you so much as touch another click pen I will leave.”

Buck snorted out a laugh, staring up at his boyfriend. “This is your house, Tommy!”

“I'll sign it over to you.”

Buck reached up and tugged on Tommy's shirt until he was hovering over him, one hand on the armrest and the other on the back of the couch. “Has anyone ever told you you're dramatic?” Buck asked, pulling Tommy in for a kiss.

“My drama teacher, third grade,” he replied with a nod. “Mrs. Collier.”

Buck gave Tommy one more kiss before letting him go. “I'll have to send her a note, tell her she was right.”

“Well, she was about seventy when I was in her class,” Tommy informed him, sitting back down in his seat, “so you'll have to search her address on Find a Grave.”

He resumed his magazine reading as Buck got back into his crossword...

Until about two minutes later, when Buck began drumming the new pen on his thigh. This time, he was seemingly completely unaware of what he was doing.

Tommy headed to bed early that night.

**********

The first time it happened, Buck was surprised, but he didn't say anything about it.

The second time, he laughed a bit, and when Tommy asked what was so funny he just shrugged and said he'd never seen anyone do that before.

The third time, he thought he might die.

“Did you, um, did you use a fork to scoop out the butter?” he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as humanly possible.

Tommy breezed by, grabbing a drink out of the fridge on his way to the garage for a work out. “Yeah. Had toast this morning.” He gave Buck a pat on the ass before heading out the door.

Buck immediately pulled a knife out of a drawer and smoothed out the butter.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. Realistically, Buck knew that.

But there was something so jarring about opening a container of butter only to see that it was littered with stab wounds.

It felt wrong.

It felt like a crime.

The fourth time it happened, it was the day after he and Tommy had gotten into an argument. Nothing too serious, and they had made up by the time they went to bed.

But Tommy had made himself dinner that night and he'd decided on scrambled eggs.

Which meant he'd first put butter in the pan so the eggs wouldn't stick.

Buck didn't want to another fight right now, so he kept quiet and fixed the butter once again, then went about his day.

The fifth time it happened, Buck was ready to throw every fork in the house away. He could no longer remain silent on such a serious issue. It needed to be discussed, and it needed to be discussed now.

There was no better time, as Tommy was opening their mail at the dining room table while Buck started on dinner.

“Uh, Tommy?”

“Yeah, Babe?”

“We, um, I- I need to talk to you.”

Tommy looked up from the mail and over to where Buck stood in the kitchen. “Uh oh,” he said when he saw the look on Buck face. “You sound serious.”

“Yeah, I- it. It's the butter, Tommy. I- Most people use a knife when they're getting butter, but you're using a fork, and it makes the butter look all stabby and I've just been fixing it myself every time I see it, but I really don't understand why you can't use a knife, or even a spoon, ya know?” He was rambling, but once he started he couldn't seem to stop. “It looks so much better if you use a knife because then it keeps that smooth, buttery texture instead of looking like its been to war and-” he stopped when he noticed that Tommy was smiling at him. “What?” he asked.

“I knew you'd break eventually.”

“Wh- What do you mean?”

Tommy picked up a pen from the table, holding his arm out straight in front of him.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click click.

When it hit him, Buck gasped, his eyes widening. “That was months ago!” he exclaimed. “We weren't even living together then!”

“And yet I've never forgotten,” Tommy replied, feeling a sense of vindication.

“You're diabolical.” He held the tub of butter out toward Tommy. “This could be considered a form of torture, you know?”

Tommy stood and walked over to Buck. “What would they call it? Butter-forking?” he asked, taking the tub from Buck and getting a knife from the drawer. He began smoothing the butter out himself, until it looked perfect on top. “Better?” he asked, showing Buck his work.

Buck turned his head to the side dramatically, staring out the kitchen window. “I don't know if we'll get past this.”

Tommy put the butter down, moving closer to Buck and placing his hands on his waist. “Could we try?” he asked. “I'd hate to tell the caterers we had to cancel the wedding on a count of me forking butter. Especially since it sounds shockingly close to doing something else with butter.”

Buck shuddered when he realized what Tommy meant. He looked up at him through his eyelashes. “Will you never destroy the sanctity of our butter with your fork ever again?”

“I will try my best,” Tommy promised. “As long as you continue to stay away from clickable pens.”

Buck sighed. “There goes the last chances of my career as a musical clicker,” he said with a pout, wrapping his arms around Tommy's shoulders.

“And there goes my career as a professional butter stabber,” Tommy replied, his hands tightening on Buck's waist as he got rid of his pout with a kiss.

[sylph--scope]

the beast hungers

(full version + original photo under cut)

[palaeoplushies]

Help waiter there's a rat in my tea

[golden-headband]

Nap Time

Eternal Servants AU belongs to @emelinstriker

Scenario: Reader wants to sleep. Needs to have their favorite fur covered boys to sleep well.

You were lying down, trying to go to sleep. And yet it elludes you like water from a ducks back. You knew you were tired, yet your mind refused to turn off in order for you to get your REM sleep.

You finally breathed in and give a sigh of defeat. Lifting your head from the pillow and looked up. "Guys? Could you-?"

"Yes Master!?" Macaque knelt before you, at eye level where you were lying in the couch. You stared at him. Bemused at his speed. "Can i ask you, Wukong, and MK to come here for a sec?" That order request did not take long to be fulfilled.

"Is there something we can do Master?" MK asked, looking up at you. "It's not a big deal, just a lil thing." You assured the three monkey champions kneeling in front of you. " Um... Can I ask you guys to just... Lie next to me? Like. One on each side? I'm more used to my cats lying next to me while I go to sleep and uh..." By the look on their faces, they could feel your sorrow from missing your pet. You took in a deeper breath, held in your chest as you tried to speak. "I just need some company while I go to sleep."

" of course" you were so tired you couldn't tell if it was Wukong or MK saying this. You knew it wasnt Macaque since he wad always so loud and eager to please you. Eventually you felt Wukong on your left and Macaque on your right. Both nuzzling into your shoulder and side respectfully. MK was clinging to you while burrying his head into your chest. Right over your heart. All of whom had their arms wrapped around you ans their tails wurled either around your legs or your waist. It was... Soothing. In no time your eyes closed, and you drifted off to sleep. Feeling comfort in those around you.

And when you felt Wukong place a kiss on your head, it was over. You heard his voice before going straight into dreamland. "Have a good night Master."

[moeblob]

Look, I just think it's VERY funny and on brand that I thought of an entire premise of colorful characters for half the cast and immediately drew the only one void of color.

[hideousvampire]

I feel like Johnnny would be terrified of Daniel's sanke but also be amazed

theyre best friends!!!!!!!

[echo-goes-mmm]

So we all the love the whumpee-thinks-caretaker-is-their-new-master trope but what if it's true

Caretaker who did buy whumpee, and who does wholeheartedly believes and acts like whumpee belongs to them

But damn it they take great care of their possessions. After all, cats and dogs get spoiled with treats and comfy beds and vet visits when they're sick and cuddles and a form of love

Why should a slave be any different? Especially because caretaker bought whumpee for companionship

Plus whumpee can tidy up, cook for themselves, hold a conversation, and even play games like cards or board games, and can go everywhere caretaker can

That's infinitely better than a cat or dog.

It's just such a shame their old owner was so terrible. Whumpee is so timid now, and nearly skin and bone. But that's nothing a good owner can't fix, right? The poor thing needs some proper structure and attention that's all. It's a good thing whumpee is human. It would be a lot harder to rehabilitate a rescue who can't comprehend speech.

And whumpee doesn't want to leave. Fetching files from a desk and playing checkers and occasionally cleaning the kitchen while master chatters about work is far better than being locked in a cold basement and getting beaten every day

Their new master doesn't lay a hand on them, their version of punishment is no music while doing chores, or no dessert

After all, you wouldn't hit your dog. Caretaker's new pet deserves at least that

[bigothteddies]

thinking about getting a sub exchanged into my care for a weekend, passed off from dom to dom in a parking lot somewhere one day for a favor. thinking about tutting at them after their dom leaves, shaking my head and asking them “You don’t even come with your own collar?” in a patient parent voice, before marching them in the pet store we just so happen to be parked in front of to get them an appropriate collar and leash for the weekend.

[triptychofvoids]

hey doc, do you have any fun facts about doves that you'd be willing to share?

not so much a Fun Fact, but i frequently see people misunderstanding dove mating behaviors. when a dove is rapidly flicking/twitching its wings that is a mating behavior. i see a lot of dove owners interpret this body language as merely being happy and then continuing to over pet and misunderstand their birds. granted, doves rarely (if ever) exhibit aggressive or harmful behaviors because of sexual frustration like parrots might for example, but it is sometimes upsetting to see people interpret a doves sexual excitement as nothing more than 'im happy please pet me' instead of what it actually is... and then spread that misinformation around. if there is one thing i would love, it would be for people to research dove body language and behaviors! i think they are very good to know and i wish more people knew about them!

[harvestmoth]

what do we think about pet store workers team xen

[puddleslimewrites]

Ok so ive been thinking of a ship dynamic and its polyamory. Hero x Anti-hero x Villain. You can do it however you want! I dont think this is an original idea but ive not seen anyone else do this so far

Oooo that's an intriguing trio

I've never seen this written before either, but I'll give it my best shot. Thank you for the ask! ^-^

~

"Calm down, love."

"They're late."

Villain stopped Hero mid-stride to interrupt their pacing. They took their partner in their arms and gently guided them to the couch to restrain them in a hug. "Anti-Hero is always late. You know them. They'll be home soon." Villain smiled down at Hero sweetly. "And if they aren't, I'll make sure to remind them how to keep track of the time."

Hero sighed, reluctantly relaxing in the hold. "I might want to 'remind' them with you, if you don't mind."

Villain looked down at their partner with a raised brow. "Is that a threat, love? Careful now. That doesn't sound very heroic of you."

"Loving either of you isn't very heroic of me," Hero huffed. "...Do you think they're okay?"

"They better be."

~

By the time the front door clicked open, all the lights were out. Anti-Hero slipped through the entrance as quietly as possible. Which meant their partners heard every attempted tip-toe as they crept past the living room. A shadow fell over them and they froze.

"Back so early?"

Slowly, Anti-Hero turned to face Villain. "Oh. You're still up? You didn't have to wait for me, darling." They chuckled nervously, fingers twitching for the weapon pouch on their hip. They were tired, but if Villain wanted a fight, they'd at least try their best before giving in.

"Darling," Villain repeated with a thin smile on their lips. "Dinner went cold hours ago."

Anti-Hero tensed as Villain stepped closer, but their partner only laid a gentle hand on their arm. "You're hurt, aren't you? Let's get you cleaned up. Hero already has the first-aid kit ready."

Anti-Hero sighed, shoulders sagging in relief until the grip on their forearm tightened. "But don't think we won't be talking about this." The softness in Villain's tone was anything but kind. "Even my schemes have a curfew on date night."

Anti-Hero swallowed and nodded, feeling numb. They were in for a long and exhausting lesson later.

[corruptedwraith]

"yeah that has big mutt energy"

@cnc-pet upon hearing I've had my teeth drilled before with no painkiller/anesthetic

[purpleskelet0n]

Last night, I lost my childhood cat and best friend of 15 years to a short and sudden battle of Kidney disease, I wasn't able to be there for him getting put to sleep due to instability, but I was able to give him a loving goodbye, the last thing I said to him being the quote above, thank you to all my friends and family for supporting me through all of this, currently typing this through tears. Bye Oscar, there will be plenty of plastic bags for you to lick on the other side.

[yikes-ajax]

*toy story woody voice* There's a cat in my bag!

[honeycollectswhump]

miss mireille can you blow the cigarette smoke in my face please just once i'll be so so good and grateful and i won't cough at all because that's not graceful and i know how you like things to be graceful and pretty

[masterlist]

Your display of worship makes Mireille blush in satisfaction. With such a silent ashtray she has forgotten how sweet it could have been to have him beg for it. But why contemplate that when you are right here, willing and obedient, stupid and lost without her. You only know how to please her, it seems to come to you naturally. 

So, gracious as she is, she bows down to you, inhaling deeply from her cigarette and blowing the smoke in your face. With a smile, she watches you struggle not to cough, your lack of training obvious but endearing. Your voice is hoarse as you kneel down low to thank her.

It is truly a waste you aren’t her pet, especially with how willing you are, but maybe arrangements could be made and you would never need to worry your stupid little mind again…