#it's dog time baybee | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

weaselle · 11 months ago

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I am not a dog whisperer. I know each is an individual but I cannot “understand “ dog. How do you train dogs to stay in the van? Mine wants out before I have even one foot on the ground when we stop.

i've been thinking about this all day. I do want to help people with their dogs, but. Can I?

For everyone else, this is in response to my post about how all dog walkers are also dog trainers if they are doing their job right, where i mention my van full of dogs waiting until each one is leashed and invited out of the van individually.

I did also, as referenced above, say that the real trick to training dogs is to get to know the dogs individually, and that this is the reason dog trainers can't take a simple question about how to train a dog and give a simple answer.

Which is true.

And does make this a tricky ask to answer well. It's sort of like asking how do you help a kid who's having trouble understanding math. There's no one answer.

So. With that in mind, i want to talk about training in general mostly, instead of training any one dog for any one thing.

There is a nice basic thing you can do to set yourself up to be able to communicate something to your dog:

Take a treat, ask your dog to sit, move the treat toward their mouth at a quite slow but steady pace. When they bounce up out of the sit to try to get the treat, make a disapproving noise (I usually make kind of an "ach" sound) and either stop moving the treat or take it back to it's starting position.

Tell them to sit again. When they sit, start moving the treat slowly down toward them again. If they stop sitting the treat stops, if they move toward the treat it goes away. Ideally there will come a moment when they juuust start to lift their butt and you juust stop moving the treat and they think about it and sit back down and you keep moving the treat toward them.

This exercise communicates an expectation, a situation, a course of action. Like, just by my describing the exercise to you, you understand what is being communicated too, even if you might struggle to put it exactly into words

once you know they understand the concept, try to pace the treat movement so they succeed a few times. Like, you can speed it up a little to be sure you get it to them before they get too excited and come up out of their sit. You want a chance to prove to them a few times that if they stay sitting they do get the treat. Then slow it way down and make them prove they will stay in a sit until the treat gets there even if it takes a while. And hey, even though the treat stays the same, the praise gets better the longer they wait! right? good.

That's communication, baybee!

Of course, not every dog will have the right mentality for this sit/treat exercise to work, but if you understand the basics of what it is trying to communicate, it can still be your template for trying to communicate that thing to your dog. And once they understand it about one thing, it starts to be easier to tell it to them about other things.

I don't work with treats because i walk three large packs of dogs (often as many as ten at once) and the roster changes, sometimes a tues/thurs dog needs to bump to a wednesday or whatever, so the dogs aren't always super used to each other. If there's a sudden discovery of food aggression or resource guarding or just plain "i don't trust or like you" behavior that can come out around high value food items like treats, well, i can't work on any training about that without risking injury to the other dogs. I have good friends who walk dogs who work with treats and who are excellent dog trainers and that works for them in their situations, so i'm not saying it's wrong to work with treats as a dog walker, i'm just saying it's wrong for me.

So i do all my professional training without treats. And that means I have to identify what the dogs want and show them i control it and then demand specific behavior to access it.

So, lets say i'm getting a dog ready to go and this dog wants to rush out the gate at full speed as soon as it's open enough for them to squeeze through. And i don't want them to.

I identify what they really want. They really want to get through the gate. So getting through the gate is the treat. Actually, the way a dog works, getting closer to getting out the gate is a treat. I make that conditional on a behavior i want, and then i'll play out the scenario in slow motion and play hotter/colder with it until they do the thing i want. Looks like this:

I'll initiate the situation (put my hand on the latch) and then when they rush right up to the gate i'll make a disapproving noise and move my hand off the latch. I'll wait a beat (this is to give them just a moment to figure it out or make a decision, and i try to build these moments into as much of my training as possible) Then i'll use my entire body to move them back from the gate, sort of the way i'd open a door with my butt if my hands were full (this is a version of a thing called body blocking that doesn't always involve touching but is physical communication based on what you are doing with your body) I'll wait until i can get them to just stand there without me touching them before i start over and reach for the latch again.

This is where they get focused, because the gate isn't even close to open yet, so they aren't too excited to pay attention. You need them to give you the behavior you want before you start doing the thing that makes them excited. The more excited they are the harder it is for you to communicate or intervene, and it's easier for them to just maintain a current behavior than to change an excited behavior. In this case we'll say the behavior you want is staying calmly behind you until you tell them they can come out the gate, so you make them stay calmly behind you before you even start opening the gate.

The dog wants the gate to be open. The gate opens slowly. The dog starts moving toward it, the gate starts closing. The dog goes back to what it was doing when the gate was opening, and the gate starts opening once more.

Dogs understand this situation pretty quickly.

Then, when it's open, before i tell them they can go, if they start to move toward the gate i will physically move my body to block them from getting out the open gate. If they try hard enough to make this difficult for me, i simply close the gate again.

You can't do this for all the things you want to train for, and it doesn't work for every dog, but it is pretty likely you can do some variation of this basic communication with most dogs to accomplish many situational behaviors.

Like, for example, not leaping out of your car.

Or take jumping up on people. What the dog wants is to put its face near your face. You can let that happen without them jumping by slowly crouching down to let them sniff your ear and lick your cheek or whatever (my dogs aren't allowed to lick my mouth, but they can lick my face, unless they are like the twin beagles i walk, who are disgusting poop eaters and aren't allowed to lick me at all). Anyway, if they sit calmly you continue to crouch toward them slowly, if they come out of a sit, you stand back up. If they stay calmly sitting what they want gets closer to happening, if they try to jump or anything, what they want goes away. This is the kind of communication dogs understand very fast.

And let me also say, you have to show them you are paying very close attention to them. If you want them calmly standing still and they even LEAN forward, you want to let them know you saw that, you want to acknowledge that, whether with a little noise or a look, or pausing the activity for a second, or whatever. That lean forward is communication from them, and responding to it shows you are participating fully, that you are paying attention to them. This will usually automatically make them pay more attention to you back.

and it's communication you do understand. A lot of people think it's some kind of secret dog code. True, there are a few things to know that are like dog language but MOST of it is like, if the dog sees something she wants to eat or fight, and she leans toward it, she is (literally) getting closer to trying to eat or fight it. You can tell what's going on pretty easy if you see it. Like, if every part of a dog's face (nose, eyes, ears) is pointed at a single thing with laser focus, it is highly interested in, or even having strong feelings about, that thing. Your dog is telling you this clear as day, and all you have to do is notice, there's really not that much deciphering.

That early intervention / close attention thing is huge in any training situation. I work with my dogs to not bark at other dogs, and so when i see a dog a block away, i'm already looking at my problem dogs, and when i see that they see the other dog, i say their name, not mad, just, i see you, i'm watching you. I'm aware of both you and that other dog, and i have my eye on you about it. If they stand very tense with their ears and tail hard up, that's already too much, that's already breaking the rules, and I'll let them know i disapprove. That's as rude as walking right up to someone and silently staring hard at them in their face. Imagine if some one did that to you in public?

See, a lot of times when two leashed dogs cross paths and one of them starts barking, it was actually the OTHER dog that started shit, really. And if i have an easily offended dog, i have to convince them to not go off about it. And the way i do that is, I Am In Charge of Public Interactions when the pack is with me. Other dogs other people, they are not allowed to interact with the dogs, all interactions come through me. And the same goes for my pack, they do not interact with dogs or bikers or people. That is my job. They are not allowed to. And my other job is making sure everybody in the pack maintains behavior standards. So.

Anyway, the earlier you start the dialogue, the easier it is to get them to listen. By the time they are already standing on their hind legs against the leash barking, it is far too late to communicate anything to them, they are lost in the sauce of adrenalized action.

What i think of as "getting in early" allows for a full range of communication. When i get in early i can say "Bubba, i see you" in a very lightly disapproving tone and it's usually quite effective because Bubba isn't overly excited yet and knows i am paying attention. When it's not effective, and now he's at step 2 out of 5 in the escalation toward the thing he's not allowed to do, I can give the leash a tiny tug and put just the smallest edge to my voice when I say, still pretty lightly, "don't do it Bubba." See, we're just having a conversation, neither of us is barking or growling yet. And believe me, your shout is a bark and your angry voice is a growl to them just as much as we understand a growl to be their angry voice. Give yourself as much space as possible to talk before the two of you get to that point

That said, there have been a few dogs that superman-leapt from the van a couple of times, and those are dogs i had to catch mid jump and sort of toss back in the van, and then stand blocking the van door staring full at them until i was sure they weren't getting ready to try again. You do have to control the situation.

hope that helps!

#dogs #dog training

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moongreenlight · 11 months ago

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U already KNOW what time it is baybee!!!! WIP WEDNESDAY!

Been riding the Gaz high and this has been in the works recently (I wrote 2k words yesterday) so here's this!

Director!Gaz x Actress!Reader

Summary: It’s the mid-1970’s and you’ve recently made the unshocking discovery that it’s difficult to find good work acting. Lucky you stumble on the wrong opportunity at the right time!

You’re not dumb enough to fall for the advertisements in the papers looking for actors in ‘up and coming independent films.’ Not anymore.

After being burned so many times by ‘pay to audition’ schemes and sleazy directors only looking to collect videotapes of girls doing porno auditions, you gave up on that front.

But what’s the stipulation on extenuating circumstances? Like when you’re working at a bar a few blocks away from the community theater and a man comes up and sits at the counter all by himself.

He’s gorgeous and a sweet talker. Seems intent on chatting with you even though you really should be polishing glassware. And once he’s finally caught you in his snare, he drops a bomb that up until this point you’d only ever heard stories about.

He says he’s a small-time director and he saw you in the last production the theatre put on. He laughs and makes a lighthearted self-deprecating joke about being “one of those wankers in the paper” to which you wrinkle your nose and give him a weary smile.

But, Jesus, if he can’t make a bad thing good. He’s got all the makings of a politician the way he’s able to talk circles around you until you agree to show up to an audition for his latest project. ‘Trouble in paradise’ or something to that tune.

He tips you twenty pounds and his business card on a coke he barely touches. Uses your pen to write your audition time on the back of the card.

Wednesday at 11a. x

He doesn’t give back the pen.

Your roommates do no good talking you out of it. Hushing your half-arsed arguments about scams and serial killers and all kinds of things. It ends with the four of you in a pile on the couch, wine-drunk and giggling yourselves into hysterics.

So two days later you go. Forcing your roommates to promise no less than five times that if you’re not heard from in an hour that they’ll send in the authorities.

You find your way to the address on the card that now looks tired in comparison to when you first got it. The edges are fussy and dog-eared from your worrying with it and passing it around to prove its legitimacy.

It doesn’t look like any studio or office you’ve seen. Far from. And that should have been the final nail in the coffin. Should have been the reason you turned tail and went back home. But something pulled you up the worn steps of the house. That same something, now cowering a bit at the looming possibility, brought you to rap your knuckles sharply on the part of the door with a few different layers of paint chipped away to expose the cheap metal underneath.

You’re left standing on the stoop for a few moments too long with no answer. And just as you were about to come to your senses and return home with some sliver of your dignity still intact; the door swung inward and exposed the same man from the bar - Kyle - with his horrible, beautiful, toothy smile.

“Thought you were going to stand me up. Wouldn’t have known what to do with myself.”

You catch yourself thinking it’s a shame that he’s directing and not starring in movies. His devastating good-looks and all. Must be a terrible read.

There’s a card table set up in the living room. Two folding chairs behind it that look flimsy at best. Three thick packets that have been three-hole punched on the side, but held together by a binder clip in the top center.

The rest of the furniture is pushed up against the wall. A hodge-podge of mismatched chairs and a sofa that very well could have been your grandmothers and a few banged-up side tables.

He offers water. Offers to take your purse. You decline both. Opt to stand a bit stiffly on the faded rug in the center of the room with your bag tucked snugly under your arm.

Maybe you should make a run for it. Maybe you were stupid to come at all. He’s a total stranger for Christ sake.

Before you can will your feet to move, there’s s bang from behind you. A screen door slamming shut and rattling on its hinges. It startles you almost a foot into the air.

“Nervous?”

Kyle is cool as ever, sliding into one of the chairs, waggling his eyebrows at you. It whines under his weight and you’re suddenly very aware of just how bulky he is. Doesn’t look it on passing glance, but when all you’ve got to look at is the way his shirt fits it becomes glaringly obvious.

“Easily startled.”

You correct, trying to decide whether or not it’s passé to turn over your shoulder to find the source of the heavy footsteps behind you.

He hums and grabs one of the packets, taking off the clip and leafing through it. Pulling out a few odd pages and setting them on the table.

The footsteps reveal their maker when he rounds the corner into the room and shuffles behind the table. If you thought Kyle was big, this man is properly a behemoth. A bit taller, broader in the shoulders, a layer of fat packed on over his muscles. He looks to be older by a few years. He gets crows feet when he nods and smiles at you before taking his seat.

The chair looks as though it would be happier pulling its own legs out from underneath itself.

“Cap’.”

Kyle doesn’t look up from his papers when he addresses the man.

You get no formal introduction to ‘Cap’ though he doesn’t seem to be truly involved in the audition process. He barely glances up from his packet. Content to nurse a fresh cigar and lean further back in the chair than you think should be plausible.

You read from the stack of pulled-out papers with sloppily highlighted lines and try not to shy away from meeting Kyle’s watchful eye.

The audition goes normally, all things considered. You’re instructed to read three different scenes. Without the time to read the blurb on the project, you draw the conclusion that “Trouble in Paradise” is some sort of short suspense film centered around a woman living, shockingly, in paradise.

The writing isn’t first-rate, but you suppose that’s to be expected. You have a hard time piecing together how the scenes flow, but that’s not your largest concern.

“Lovely. Really, darl’.”

Kyle stands when he talks. Commands the attention even of such a small audience. Takes up space in the room like he’s owed it.

You smile, feeling a bit more at-ease now that things seem to be wrapping up.

“N’ how do you look in a bathing suit?”

The question takes you entirely off-guard. It makes your jaw fall far enough open that you’re left looking like a fish out of water.

“I- sorry?”

Kyle’s face doesn’t change. Fantastic at keeping up appearances. He’s still casting that warm smile over you. The focus of it makes you feel like you’re sunbathing.

“Bathing suit, love. How d’you look?”

Disappointment drops like a stone in your belly. Heavy and fast. It’s another scam. Of course it is.

“Oh. I don’t- I don’t do dirty movies.”

It must be palpable on your face even more than it is in your voice.

‘Cap’ glances up at Kyle when he ashes his cigar. The smell is nauseating. He seems to be chewing on a smile. Kyle meets his eye for only a moment, amusement painfully evident on his face.

“You’ve just read the pool scene. Hardly anything dirty about costuming.”

#gaz x calling reader 'darl' you will always be famous #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #sephspeaks #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #gaz x reader #gaz call of duty #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick #wip wednesday

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spoiled-fawn · 1 year ago

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Meeting Kyle

Western AU; Mail Order Spouse Trope

WC: 3,120 CW: None

AN: GAZZA BAYBEE! This is my first time writing for Gaz and I know it's not much, but I hope to portray him as something we can all enjoy. Would love to hear your thoughts and comments, as well as any questions, my asks are open. I hope ye enjoy <3

Please see the Introduction for the explanation and precursors to the scene.

Introduction, Biography

--------

The quiet of the night emanates with the crickets chirping, small scuffles of feet around the block, and a handful of buildings creaking in the late-night wind. You can barely see the outline of words using the dim street lights to help you read over the candidates.

No… No… Yes.

Your eyes, and faint tug of your heart, settle on Kyle’s advert. In a hopeless romantic fashion, you could feel the daydreams begin.

Folding the paper and stuffing it in your shirt, then glancing around before heading off to your home, you walk with a rushed sense of urgency. Everything good, bad, and ugly, flys into your mind. This could be a trap, what if he isn’t who he says he is, what if hundreds of others have already written to him?

Well, it's better than this. It's a quick scan of the hazardous and dirty mess that rages inside your house walls. Passing quickly to your bathroom, you take out the paper again before looking in the mirror.

Can you see yourself in the low lights of a saloon? Helping old bastards get drunk after a day of hard work, smiling sweetly, or raising a fist when needed? Can you hold appearance to being a town favorite so he would get good business?

Your mind steals your active attention while bathing, letting the lukewarm water wash the day’s dirt away from you. No criminal record? Check, and with no debt. No early mornings but now late nights? That's a life you could get used to. Attractive? Well shit, if the politician sought you out, then yes. You’re quite the diamond in the rough.

As if you were in a spell, you blink and break the dissociation you entered to realize yes, you could see that for yourself. You can. Could. Would.

Now in your bedroom after the bath, you quietly maneuver the floorboards to cut any chance of waking up your parents or any sudden appearance that would erase this mission of yours.

Now being able to read, Kyle was one of the younger candidates in the newspaper and even from his short paragraph and singular photo, he seemed like a man who was down to earth. Maybe someone who knows how to have fun, but has enough structure and discipline for himself to become so successful at such a young age. In your writing, you tried your best to express your goals, how you could help his own, and how you could blossom together in his new beginning.

The next few days were filled with constant anxiety and metaphorically looking over your shoulder. Acting like a nervous dog as your parents began to crowd you with an overbearing sense of control. A child with a leash on, constantly trying to pull away.

The 5th day after sending your correspondence leaves you will a dejected heart. Now on the farm working, you heard the bell attached to the mailer wagon approach the gate. Common for you to take the mail for the Laswells, you head to take the mail but give a confused glance as the mailman hands you a letter while reading out your name. “This one here ‘s for ya.” Is all he supplies before heading back down the road to continue his route.

A neat and small scrawl is seen across the front and is enough to make your heart race.

Kyle expressed himself very well; his boyish charm and a hint of his flirty attitude already coming across. Describing himself as friendly, outgoing, and respectful. He confided in how he feels most alone when the customers leave, when he gets into bed in the cold chill of the night, alone.

Even in his writing, his charming and playful lines were able to make you smile, having to bite your lip to keep your bubbling excitement inside. The words he uses, and the sweet-toothed candor in his writing show a difference from your upbringing; daddy and mommy issues on your end, if you will, while the feeling of his young soul shines through with assuredness. You and Kyle wrote of both wanting someone to make life feel easy. Kyle wants to find his muse; the inspiration to his business and light up his world on the cloudiest of days.

In the dark of the late evening after leaving work late, you head to the post office to collect an expected letter. A common habit now so you could dream of him and any fantasies your mind could create. Now just entering the 6th week of exchanging letters, you stand shocked as you re-read the page.

“... I hope to see you soon, enclosed is the means to make it my way. Cheers to you honey, I’ll be waiting for you…”

In your hands lays your one-way ticket to get out of your contained life. In his letter and now in your hands are directions, a map, and a one-way train ticket for you to leave home.

The thrum of your blood is loud in your ears, louder than your footsteps running across the ground. Making your way back home, you begin packing what you’ll need for the barren desert climate.

Fully awake and adrenaline pumping, you slink into your house with practiced ease and silence to determine what you’ve walked into tonight. From the hallway, you can see your parents strewn across their bed with measured breathing; It's safe to move around and get yourself together.

It's an hour later when you make your way to leave, yet when passing through the living room for one last look, you decide to get a small keepsake to celebrate your new beginning while simultaneously giving a big fuck you to your parents.

Plucking a set of fine glassware of your father's, the ones that he valued more than keepsakes from your parent's wedding, the soft clink of the glass buried in your bag brings a sweet grin to your lips.

You’d scold yourself later for not taking a bottle of whatever liquor was there but wouldn’t want to test your luck by getting drunk when it was your first time on a train.

The trip was only four days long, not leaving you with much time to prepare to meet Kyle. Instead, you begged your mind to create a true representation of him, re-reading his letters often as you imagined him. The times that you were able to sleep with the soft lull of the train were filled with possibilities of what your life in a budding environment, alongside a man who had built his life up from scratch and stayed so charming through it all.

On the train into Northern Arizona, the red rock was enchanting, to say the least. Arriving late into the morning on Saturday, you take a mildly comfortable pace after stepping off the train station to make your way to the center of town with wide eyes as the glimmer of the early morning sky creates a calm blue haze.

It takes a bit of time before you walk far enough to come across the sign painted atop a brick building in the the upper edge of Main Street. You could laugh about how lost you knew you looked, but before stopping to ask someone, the creme-colored letters Free Falling Saloon appear before you.

Taking a moment to commend yourself for making it this far, a steady breath draws in and out of your lungs. With a small flutter in your stomach, you push open the saloon doors and are greeted with the sight of the bar; stained oak and birch woods, various colored glass bottles lining the back wall, dried animal skulls hung up, cowboy hats, sombreros, and a large mirror that has a ledge full of lit candles.

The loud sound of a crate being put on the bar makes you startle, hand jumping up to your chest before your eyes find the source of the noise.

“Sorry, pardner, we ain't open till-” The smooth voice rings out with a dreary tone- making him seem tired of probably having to repeat this line over and over again. After a moment, his warm deep eyes move up to find yours but his jolt of surprise doesn't escape you.

His eyes, body, and soul, seemingly freeze as he sets his eyes on you and stares. Granted, you're staring right back while the pull of a growing smile begins to pull at the edge of your lips.

His facial hair isn’t much, but it's enough to shape his face and make him seem like he’s a bit older than the photo he sent. His hair somewhat short and in tight curls on his head, making him have a unique style he could probably attest to developing from home.

Your stomach does flips at how stunning he is, but when he smiles- All gods be damned. He’s the finest man you’ve seen and you wonder if you’re going to chase off harlots from stealing him every night.

“Hi, Kyle.” Is all that leaves you, and it's monumentally soft in how it leaves your lips, making you swear you could see him melt a bit.

The movement of his mouth catches your eyes but the lack of sound coming out draws a soft peal of laughter from you. Taking a step forward, he matches you while bumping into a few glass bottles along the way.

Your bags make soft thuds against the floor, both sets of footsteps soft with trepidation yet building excitement. Each set of eyes scans the other, with sincere and almost unapologetic disbelief as you come face to face.

He whispers your name out in amazement, raising his hands to cup your face. “You’re real… You’re really real.” He breathes, voice soft. His inviting eyes drink in your appearance while his smile grows, and then feel yourself pulled into a tight hug in his strong arms.

A soft noise of surprise leaves you, arms trapped within his hold making you laugh in response. Settling to wrap your arms around his waist, you squeeze right back. He smells like citrus and hints of cinnamon amongst it.

When thinking of the Arizona Territory, you thought it would be the rumored dry barren desert that holds tales of ghost stories; Unbearable heat that beats down and leaves many delusional for an oasis. But him. Kyle. He’s the damned warmest thing you've wrapped your arms around.

But hey, you’ll probably become delusional for this man too.

“You’re real.” You copy back with a muffled voice. Basking against his muscled chest, which you will return to later, you peak up. “Thought this was some dream like I was going crazy coming here.” The addition is a soft and unconfident reply, possibly gaslighting yourself into still believing so.

The rumble of his soft laugh brings a sweet vibration to your chest, "I know, Honey. You're safe now, you're home." He assures while moving his head back slightly so his face is now a few inches from yours, smiling softly. “I wrote you way too much to let you get stuck in some sort of dream world without me. Hardest parts’ over.”

Affirming his response, a grin plants itself on your lips as you hum lowly. “Hardest parts over.” You parrot back with relaxed accomplishment.

The arms around you give a tight squeeze, and the warmth of his lips presses against your forehead. “You’re gonna make me crazy. Can already tell.” He murmurs, the easy smile held against your skin, and you already want to curse yourself for letting him make it seem so easy. Why not let him?

Before you can respond, he takes a step back to look at you, his brown eyes sparkling in the flickering light of the room."You wanna see our place?" He asks curiously, stepping forward to take your hand and guide you to a door behind the bar, a tucked-away staircase hiding beside a wall of crates. "You're not gonna wanna leave once you see where you'll be stayin'. Let's set your bags down first, though." He laughs, confidently leading you while intertwining your hands.

You’re greeted with an apartment-style home; An eclectic mix of furnishings, all the way down to the pictures and artwork on the walls. It's a mix of Western and Southern charm, with just a hint of New Orleans to signify where he’s from.

A couch sits against one wall near a bay window, the curtains drawn back to let in the sunlight. A kitchenette rests in the corner of the room, and you see a separate room that appears to be a bedroom. There is a large bay window at the end of the room, facing the view of the Jerome hills. Kyle motions for you to follow him to the bedroom.

“It ain't much, just a cozy place for two,” he says softly, moving close to you again as he steals your bags and gently rests them atop a dresser.

In truth, he’s right. It’s not much, but it's a beginning for both of you that he has just a bit of a head start on. Yet, it's so much more than you’ve hoped, dreamed, prayed, screamed, and cried for. Just a little piece of heaven to have and to hold.

“It’s us. That's all that matters.” You say, now walking slowly towards him to scan over the view that the bedroom window offers.

You can feel him staring, see him doing it too from the corner of your eye. “What?” The question tumbles from your mouth, turning to him with an eyebrow raised.

He smiles for a moment, chuckling before shaking his head. Slow steps, 1… 2… 3… bring him close enough to pull your hips and bring you towards him. “You’re right,” He whispers, pausing to smile and look at your lips. “Just us.” He answers in a hoarse murmur, leaning in closer and you can feel his breath across your lips.

“Is this where I say thank you for letting me be here?” You ask, eyes falling to his lips in response. There's a sweetness to this moment, that makes your head feel so light and clear while you can barely feel your heartbeat. It's something you’ve never felt before- because you haven't. Not this, not anyone like him. His hands reach forward to find their place on your jaw, the warmth of his palm grounding.

A huff of air leaves him, making your eyes flutter. “No, this is where I thank, you, Honeybee.”

His kiss is gentle and sweet, the gentle drag of his thumb across your hip bones adds to the warmth that floods your chest while his light stubble rubs against your face. Your arms travel up to wrap around his neck, adding to the invitation to make him stay, keeping him so close.

A groan leaves him, his hands squeezing the flesh on your hips before moving to wrap around your back. “You’re gonna be trouble, baby. Here you already makin' me wanna do nothin’ n’ lay in bed.” He grumbles lowly, nestling into your neck with a warm laugh.

You can feel the chemistry building, the close contact, and hold on each other making the scene grow more intimate. He draws a breath in, stealing another kiss from your lips before moving back and directing you to the dresser. “Here's where to put your things, le’s get you unpacked and comfortable. How's that sound?”

Nodding in response, you work on organizing your belongings while he makes room in a few drawers and half of the closet to accommodate you. “Woulda thought you’d have more than this sweetheart. Not keen on carrying much?” He asks, tone curious but a bit playful with the lazy grin on his face.

A small scoff leaves you, not in disdain of him. “Nah, wanted to get to you quick. But didn’t have much that was worth bringin.” You shrug in reply. “Honestly didn’t know what kinda weather was out here, thought I would be melting already.”

Kyle leans against the wall where the window is, watching you cross back and forth between the dresser and closet while deciding where to hang or fold your clothes. “I could get behind that.” He hums for a moment before looking into the distance. “I’ll have to tell you how I traveled all ‘e way out here. Had a few trunks to my name and got a whole wagon to get me out here.” He laughs, a sigh of a breath releasing from him as he recounts whatever memory plays in his head.

“What, you didn’t wanna make it in halfa one?” You respond quickly, almost like it's your second nature to be a little shit, now having the freedom to have some fun and relaxation of your personality.

He thinks, stares, and tilts his head. “You think you’s funny, yeah?” He asks, arms crossing over his chest with a Cheshire grin growing over his lips.

At this point, you think that maybe you should be giving this man more respect, maybe you should already be kissing his feet and thanking him for allowing you here. Eyes widening, your hands fly up in surrender. “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t- I don’t mean any-”

He cuts you off with a shake of his head, bringing his hands out to catch yours when he steps to you. “Hey, hey. No, you’re okay. I know you were havin’ fun.” He comforts soothingly as his eyes scan yours.

Your eyebrows de-furrow, your mouth closing, but there's still a bit of alarmed widness in your eyes as you make sure he isn’t mad. “Thought I overstepped. ‘M sorry.” You whisper as your eyes dart over his face for any hint of emotion.

Something in Kyle shifts, a small and almost remorseful smile rests on his face. Are you that obvious? No, per se, since your situation is pretty damn unique.

“Hey.” He starts, “I want you to be comfortable here. You’re not gonna overstep. And if there ever was a situation where you did, I’ll let you know.” His hands bring yours up to his lips, laying soft kisses on your knuckles. “But please, please, tell me if I’m outta line with you. I know we ain't got much space but if you’d like me to sleep on the couch for a bit while we get to know each other, I will, Honeybee.”

In all honesty, you could cry. You didn’t believe in men like this being real, not after the shit you’ve seen. Could this be your lottery ticket after the amount of pain life has put you through?

Fuck, maybe. As long as you get to keep him, you’re in.

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art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament · 1 year ago

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SET THIRTEEN - ROUND ONE - MATCH ONE

"Deimos" (2015 - Dragan Bibin) / Dog and Bridge (1976 - Alex Colville)

DEIMOS: The lighting! The body language! The uncertainty of what is or isn't there!! What does the dog know that we, the viewer, don't?? It makes me insane but in the best way. (piratedllama)

DOG AND BRIDGE: it makes me want to walk backwards into traffic (@letisnt)

("Deimos" is a 2015 oil on panel painting by Serbian painter Dragan Bibin. It measures 24x30 cm (9.5x11.8 in) and is part of a set.

"Dog And Bridge" is a 1978 acrylic on canvas painting by Canadian artist Alex Colville. It is currently held in a private collection.)

#DOGS PART THREE #art that fucks you up tournament #polls #atfyu polls #id in alt text #it's dog time baybee

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meyerlansky · 7 months ago

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Something I think is interesting about the punch on the wing scene in MOTA is that Bucky says “I order you to hit me,” and then immediately after (I’m 90% sure it’s his next line after Curt speaks) says “ranks off.” Like… you can’t order someone to punch you (effectively pulling rank) and then say no more ranks. I mean you can, because he did, but yeah

Y E A H! IT DRIVES ME CRAZY ACTUALLY!!!

like you can take bucky's "that's an order" as a wink-wink nudge-nudge crack at the fact that uhhh neither of them really give a shit about rank on the ground: if curt did he wouldn't step up to gale about the RAF captains, and if any of the four majors in the scene did they'd have stopped a lieutenant from taking a hit his commanding officer stepped up for. i don't even really think curt cares about bucky ordering him to hit him, not in the sense of "i am a good little soldier, i can't disobey an order 🫡" anyway. when curt brings the ranks up, he's really REALLY obviously using it as a soft no, both to give bucky an opportunity to laugh it off and save face AND to try and get out of being made to do something he does NOT want to do even though his friend asked him for it. and even after that, he has to be pushed EVEN MORE into actually swinging. he gives bucky two very obvious soft no's, and only throws the punch after bucky physically pushes him into it. that's what we in the know call "coerced consent," baybee!

and then, boy i wish i wasn't at work so i could post caps, but AFTER THAT they have this little exchange that just feels fucking awful to watch: curt is watching bucky reel from the hit looking very concerned, and when bucky stands up he kind of backs away and puts his hands up like he thinks bucky's gonna swing back. bucky kind of sidles up to him and pats him on the shoulder—very "big dog who wants to play-fight with someone smaller" body language, as a note 😳—and it looks like everything's fine, but then as he walks over to the edge of the wing he shoots curt this look that's... a little resentful? maybe? like he wasn't expecting curt to hit him THAT hard? and curt turns away AFTER that look, so i think he caught it, and he looks SO FUCKING MISERABLE for the rest of the scene, even after bucky grins at him and i want to rip my own throat out about it actually

tangent ahead, my meta-writer roots are showing, i cannot help myself: bucky's relationship to his rank and authority is fascinating to me, actually. he really only wants it when it's convenient and it gets him what he wants. he doesn't want air exec because he feels left out of the fighting and guilty for being safe when everyone else is up, which is not THE most selfish on the surface, but it is still him prioritizing his feelings over doing the job he was given and thereby keeping the ENTIRE GROUP safe. he's buddy-buddy with the other pilots until he wants curt to hit him or crank to stop saying shit he doesn't want to hear [which imo is worse, even though i agree with bucky wrt Fuck 'Em; at least he was alone with curt on the wing, but making crank say "yes sir" in front of his ENTIRE CREW? ouch. ouch!]. he plays favorites in the air, with curt AND gale, and puts MULTIPLE FORTS FULL OF MEN in danger to get them out of tight spots. he basically abdicates all leadership responsibility in the stalag and puts it all on gale, up to and including only really discussing escape for the two of them, not their crews.

and like, i get it! i 100% understand why he's as selfish as he is, and in particular i wouldn't expect his internal logic to be consistent while he's White Girl Wasted as a—very bad, but really his Only Available—coping method for very deep trauma and grief. but he's SO self-centered, basically all the time, and it is such an interesting trait in contrast to the rest of his character, which is: he's fundamentally a good guy. i buy what he says to paulina, that he signed up because he wanted to help right nazi germany's wrongs. he's the one who says "maybe we should think about them" when the tuskeegee airmen roll in, and you can take that a couple of ways, but i personally don't think gale would've talked to alex without that push from bucky. he gets bitter about lil and dye for a hot minute [again, while drinking] but then gets over it REAL quick to reassure her dye'll be fine. he writes the letters to the families of the guys they lose over bremen even though it's not his responsibility As Of Five Minutes Ago. he SNAPS after the mustang fires on the march column, because simoleit put his men in danger with the night marches. he was absolutely NEVER going to shoot the german kids in westphalia, vs gale who is SO OBVIOUSLY talking himself OUT of murdering a child. he does actually care about people! even people he doesn't know! and i don't actually think he'd shrug off his abuses of rank and skirting authority, if it was pointed out to him and it impacted people he didn't want to hurt. which is why i wrote 2.6k of navel-gazy fic about it, even though he only finds out curt's hurt because of him at the end of the fic but shhh

#masters of the air #mota #mota meta #heheheheheh #anyway!#i've got THOUGHTS!#buckycurt #curtbucky #i forget which tag we use tbh #buck(y) sandwich #bucky egan #curt biddick #long post #ish #john egan #curtis biddick

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cyber-corp · 1 year ago

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An actual summary of Homestuck Act 6's intermissions

by someone who’s a page away from Collide

Let’s do this lightning-round style.

After breaking through the fourth wall on the ship and getting the Gift of Gab (lol), John and Jade prepare for a three-year-long voyage to meet up with the gang, with Davesprite, Nannasprite, and a variety of other faces in tow. They write a letter for the crew.

The Monarch (previously the Mendicant) and the firefly buddy (I've forgotten their name) plead for the Vagabond's life. She takes him to the trolls and kid's rendezvous spot.

The trolls finally meet up with Dave and Rose, who have indeed reached God Tier. Half-dead Sollux and GT Aradia show up as well. They plan to host a "funeral" for Sollux, who is just sort of watching in disgust.

After Karkat's bucket-human-troll-sloppy-fueled breakdown from John's letter, the Vagabond, and the firefly show up, and the gang sets off through the Furthest Ring.

Intermission 2

Hussie, who was taking care of Spades Slick after he fucking killed the world by shooting Snowman, is shot dead by Lord English. I'm sure he'll show up later though. They always do.

It's been about a year in between the intermissions. While Rose explains what the Scratch did, Karkat attempts to explain the troll love quadrants to Dave. They draw dicks, fight, Dave wins by a mile through the suplex

Meanwhile, John, Jade and friends play the Ghostbusters II MMORPG, which is hilarious that that is even a thing in the first place. Jaspersprite sings a birthday song for him, Jade gets dogmad, which causes John to black out.

After getting harrassed by an eepy Roxy, John encounters Meenah (the best character!!!!!) for the first time. He takes a trident from her and wakes back up.

In a dream bubble, Terezi meets Aranea (second best character!!!!), who offers her to heal her sight. In another dream bubble, Hussie proposes to Vriska with a ring. Because of course he does.

Intermission 3 (and some other stuff)

Aranea invites Jake to Meenah's dream bubble, where she finds quite a lot of fighting happening. After telling a story of the Condensce, Jake embarrasses himself by attempting to wallop Meenah. He wakes up after getting whacked, but Brain Ghost Dirk sticks around.

After a "quick" game of Meenah Quest, we get a glimpse of what John and Jade are up to; watching Con Air baybee!!!! Except John has a big freakout over hating the movie, hating Davesprite, and passes out. What a guy.

PM and Noir are locked in chase before they enter a bubble of Jack's own massacre of the Battlefield, before John awakens and fights him. Rose shows up for a brief second and John uses his cool-ass windy powers as well.

After the battle, John wanders into a desert, finds a ring, and finds Tavros (wHO DESPERATELY WANTS THE RING,) and Vriska. She shares her plan to find a treasure that'll defeat Lord English.

After another game of Meenah Quest (where she unsuccessfully gets no one on her team), we go back to the meteor, where Rose drinks and forgets her date with Kanaya (best couple. fight me) and then falls down the stairs. They warned her, dog.

John wakes up with the ring, soyjaks, and the intermission ends.

Intermission 5 (CALIBORN TOOK uP THE LAST SPOT)

Dave and Karkat intervene Terezi, who is a massive wreck because of her degrading romance with Gamzee and letting Aranea heal her eyesight.

John, Vriska, Aranea, Meenah and Aradia find a big green cave in a dream bubble, where they also find a juju. It's the Homestuck House! John sticks his hand in it, his arm appears throughout multiple points in the comic, and then voops out of reality completely. He has an INTENSE STAREDOWN with Caliborn and wakes up on LOMAX, Jake's planet.

I don't usually do this but

(skips many, many important bits and pieces)

Vriska comes back (thanks to John's time shenanigans), plans out everything to come and verbally abuses her ghost self, Dave and Dirk have a feelings jam, dead pre-retcon Terezi and Ghost Vriska rejoice in facing the end, and everybody just about gets ready to

Collide.

This has been by far one of the most bonkers pieces of fiction I have ever read, and nothing gets me more excited than to see all of it come together and wrap all of it up, I hope. Also Caliborn and Calliope are one of the best "Jekyll/Hyde" characters I've seen in a long while!

Whatever lies on the other side of that hyperlink, I sure hope it'll be good.

#john egbert #rose lalonde #dave strider #jade harley #karkat vantas #terezi pyrope #vriska serket #meenah peixes #aranea serket #jake english #dirk strider #roxy lalonde #jane crocker gets an honourable mention #tavros nitram #caliborn #okay that should be everyone important #homestuck #gecko boy reads homestuck #[S] collide.

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pomesa · 1 month ago

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Cryptozoology is the search for and study of animals who haven't been proven to currently exist, whether that be because its supposedly extinct or because people say its straight up bullshit.

I fucking love cryptids. Here's my personal ranking of just some of the cryptids in the notebook Ive been keeping since I was 20, with anecdotes.

Mongolian Death Worm. Hell yeah baybee, its worm time. Its a Tartar sand boa I'm gonna be so real with you right now. That's what it actually is and I love it. Wiggle on, little buddies. 10/10

Thunderbirds. Either the Teratornis lived WAY longer than we think OR its an Andean Condor, but either way, I love Big Ass Bird. 10/10 The picture that made me love them:

There's supposedly a picture very similar to this but its a cowboy with the bird nailed to a barn, they say it was in a newspaper in the old west and I would kill to see it.

3) Kraken. Its a giant squid. Not much to say, I just love that for years people went "There's big ass squids" and no one believed them and then a guy straight up CUT OFF A TENTACLE and brought it back and people STILL didn't believe him. How much does your town have to think you're crazy for a whole leg to convince NO ONE. 9/10 very cool

4) Flatwoods monster. I'm gonna be real with you I think this ones made up but I love how cunty they are. Unrateable/10 for being fake but 9/10 for queen vibes.

5) Fresno Night Walkers. We don't know! We have videos of these little guys and no one knows what they are!! 11/10 for cuteness, 9/10 for engaging as hell.

6) Mothman. I'm not talking about him everyone knows him I want to peg him yadda yadda onward!

7) Aliens. They are real. Like I've given pretty reasonable explanations so far but there's military videos?? The Italian government possibly got in a shootout with them? I think we need to just accept this and move on, in 2018 I graduated high school and even our current events professor just let us write about aliens because they'll probably be confirmed in our lifetime. 7/10 We need new info on them, I'm losing interest

8) Loch Ness Monster. She is not real BUT searches for her have funded so much actual research about the ecosystem she deserves a spot anyway. 7/10 Everyone say "Thank you Nessie"

9) Ozark Howler. This is only up here because I love cats, I don't think its anything other than tall tales, but if new evidence came out I would move it up to top 3. 5/10 I love cats

10) Goatman and Jersey Devil. Lets be real its the same thing and its both someones way of saying they saw the devil in their small town. 4/10 for consistency.

11) Dover Demon. This gets to be on this list because it made some people think the Rake is based in reality (its not) and I think that's funny. 3/10 for funniness and alliteration.

12) Loveland Frog Man. People said it was a 4 foot tall frog man. It was definitely an iguana missing a tail from a predator. 3/10 People should have figured that one out sooner.

13) Bigfoot. Oh my GOD shut up about him. Its all Bigfoot, skunk ape, yeti, batsquach, its all Bigfoot and I'm so tired of him. Give everyone else here some love, would you? This guys so pretentious. 1/10 I hate how hes taken over the study of cryptids.

My personal favorite who hasn't been mentioned yet: Chupacabra. It MIGHT be a coyote with mange and the people who claim to have taxidermied ones definitely have coyotes. "But Mark, if that's the case why do you love it? What makes this different?" This is the cryptid where the evidence matches up the LEAST. There's too many different accounts, and there's reason to believe there may actually (FOR ONCE) be a legitimate genetic mutation to create some kind of dog creature in the area. I could do a whole post about them alone but I want you to do your own research and enjoy what you find.

Now go forth and spread the good word of animals that may or may not be real!

#pomesa speaks #cryptid #cryptozoology #reference

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baizhoobies · 2 months ago

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𝐎𝐧𝐢 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲…?

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

Synopsis: f!Reader somehow finds herself trapped in the spirit realm. Whoops. She entrusts the help of a Yokai Detective Agency to get her back to the mortal realm where she belongs. Wait? A detective agency? In the spirit realm? And the only way of escape is to work with a disgruntled and hot headed Oni who is somehow spiritually bound to her? Sheesh.

A multichapter, Kamisama Kiss inspired story with your favourite Bungo man. Or at least, my favourite ~

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, violence, swearing, blood mention, monsterfucking, knotting, ruts, omegaverse vibes, breeding

A/N: Chapter 3 baybee! A bit of action, a bit of attraction, and usual tsundere shenanigans

Chapter Warnings: violence, swearing, enemies to lovers, Kunikida is dramatic and grumpy as usual, scent kink??

Masterlist

The day was already off to a disastrous start.

Kunikida was pacing furiously in the Armed Detective Agency’s main office, every step was punctuated by an annoyed mutter, his expression a storm cloud of simmering frustration. You stood awkwardly nearby, arms crossed, your own expression equal parts defiant and exhausted. It had been a long day as it was, barely a couple of hours into the spirit realm and you had felt zapped; however, there was work that still needed to be done.

“So, let me get this straight,” you finally spoke, your tone laden with sarcasm. “You’re dragging me out into Yokai-infested woods because you get a magical tummy ache if I’m too far away?”

“It’s not a ‘tummy ache,’” Kunikida snapped, still pacing. “It’s a physical manifestation of the soul-binding contract’s restrictions. The pain is debilitating. It’s serious.”

Dazai lounged on the sofa nearby, watching the scene unfold with undisguised amusement. “It’s cute, really. Like a dog who can’t leave his owner.”

“I am not a dog!” Kunikida barked, then immediately turned to you. “And I wouldn’t have to ‘drag’ you anywhere if you weren’t such a liability!”

What an ass. You think he had called you a ‘liability’ among other words several times over, that if you had a nickel for every time he made a rude comment about you, you’d be able to buy the entire city of Yokohama three times over. You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. As if I asked for any of this? Oooh yeah this is the time of my life, falling into a world that isn’t my own and binding myself to the spirit realm’s most powerful and amazing Oni. Yeah, this is my idea of fun.”

Kunikida glared at you for a few moments to think up a retort. He had those familiar words in his mind to throw at you, but instead blurting out something just as helpful. “You could at least make an effort to stay out of trouble”

“Oh what a snore, you two,” Ranpo interjected, lazily waving a hand. “Don’t you have a mission to get to? If you don’t stick to Kunikida’s schedule I think he might burst a blood vessel”

“Hm, I don’t know, I quite enjoy watching this lovers quarrel” Dazai adds from the couch, a foxlike smile on his face. Even the pattern of the tattoos on his face make his smile ever more apparent.

“We are not lovers!” The both of you shouted in unison, a deep flush glowing on your cheeks.

Ranpo was correct though, Kunikida checked his watch and lets out a defeated sigh. As much as you had kept him behind schedule, he could at least swallow some pride and try to get it back on track.

It wasn’t long before you were deep in the forest, the air thick with the eerie energy of the spirit realm. The winding paths were lined with ancient trees whose twisting branches seemed to whisper secrets in the wind. You had followed closely behind Kunikida, who insisted on keeping you within arm’s reach at all times. Dazai trailed a few paces back, whistling a jaunty tune.

“Stay close,” Kunikida said over his shoulder for the third time in five minutes. “If we get separated, I won’t be able to protect you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” you muttered. “Don’t wander, don’t breathe too loudly, and definitely don’t make any snarky comments that might distract the great Oni Kunikida.”

He glares at you briefly. “If you truly understand, then why do you keep pushing my limits?”

“I’m not pushing anything,” you said innocently. “This is just my natural charm.”

Kunikida muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “infuriating woman,” but you couldn’t help the smirk tugging at your lips. If he wanted to treat you like a burden, fine, but you made sure to be the most annoying burden possible.

You eventually reached a clearing, the faint sound of Tanuki whimpers and cries drawing their attention to a large wooden cage near the center. A group of Yokai surrounded it, their monstrous features twisted with cruelty. You could feel your stomach turn as your eyes adjusted to the darkness and could faintly see the cowering Tanuki, their fluffy tails curled protectively around them.

“Poor little guys” you whispered.

“They’re not the only ones in danger,” Kunikida said, his tone grim. “The moment they sense you, they’ll come for you first.”

“Great. So, I’m bait now?”

“Not bait. A liability.” Theres that word again. He straightened his back, his jaw clenched. “Stay right here, and for once in your life, do as you’re told.”

“Not a chance,” you muttered, waving a hand dismissively, but Kunikida had already stepped forward. It took a moment or two to register he had gone and crouched behind a tree, spying on the Yokai camp. So, as to not be a liability, you did the sensible thing and joined him right behind the tree.

Kunikida looked over his shoulder angrily, as to scold you, but his lecture was interrupted by Dazai whistling softly as he took in the scene.

“Looks like there are about six of them. Think you can handle that, Kunikida? Or will your little contract buddy here be too much of a distraction?”

“I can handle it,” Kunikida growled. “Stay out of it unless I need backup.”

As much as their hiding skills were top notch, it didn’t take long for the Yokai to sniff the air, smelling something absolutely flavoursome; you. One of the Yokai, a hulking figure with glowing red eyes and antlers, sniffed the air once more and grinned.

“A human,” the Yokai rumbled, his voice guttural and dripping with malice. “And such a delicious-smelling one.”

You could feel that same sinking feeling in your stomach as his gaze settled on the tree where your group had been hiding. ‘Wonderful’, you thought, maybe you were actually a liability as Kunikida had said you were. Feeling a combination of guilt and fear, you instinctively moved closer to Kunikida, even though you hated admitting it, you felt safer near him.

“Great, we’ve been spotted” Kunikida whispered under his breath, he pulled out a gun and peered out behind the tree so that the Yokai could see that he was armed. “Back off,” Kunikida warned, his voice low and dangerous. “Free the Tanuki or we will have no choice but to detain every last one of you”

“Oh yeah? You really think you’re going to stop us, Oni?” the Yokai sneered. “Though, we could make a deal, hm? You hand over that scrumptious human, and we will free the Tanuki, a Yokai’s promise”

Kunikida didn’t bother responding, even if he did hand you over, they would never actually release the poor creatures. Plus, if you die, so does he.

The Oni fires a warning shot at the Yokai’s feet. “Come any closer and you’ll be leaving here in body bags”. This of course did not sway any of the Yokai, enraged, they sprinted forward with impressive speed.

Kunikida and Dazai assumed the defensive position, having you right behind them. At this point, you had felt totally useless in this fight, determined to help, you look around for anything to pick up and throw at the charging Yokai. As you bent over, Kunikida tripped over your form, accidentally shooting his gun in quick succession, hitting one of the Oni’s shoulders.

He didn’t have much time to process what had happened, but once again, you were proving to be more of a pain in his ass than he originally anticipated.

“You idiot! Watch what you are doi-”

“Look out!” You interrupted his scolding by throwing a large rock at one Yokai’s face who was in stabbing distance of Kunikida, making it step backwards. (Not necessarily because of the rock itself, but more because of the dirt and grit getting in its eyes).

As much as he was grateful, Kunikida did not have chance to thank you for the distraction, he had picked you up, hooking and arm around your waist and flinging you to a nearby tree away from the fight. You felt like a car in this moment when you collided with the tree, it was painful and shook your entire being; this was the second time in 24 hours had your body been subjected to being a walking talking collision dummy. ‘God damn it, that bloody Oni is going to kill me before the Yokai even has chance’ you thought, rubbing the back of your head. Your eyes dart up to watch both Kunikida and Dazai fight, noticing the differences in the way they fight.

Kunikida is a manhandler, punching, throwing and tackling any Yokai that approaches, and then occasionally using his gun only to injure, not to kill. Dazai however, seemed to be a master dodger, sliding nonchalantly to the side with a lazy laugh, tripping him effortlessly.

Whilst the Yokai fought, the antlered Yokai noticed you slumped against the tree, slightly concussed. He sneaked over to you and yanked at your arm, it was forceful and you could feel the sheer power in the Yokai’s strength. You yelled out as he dangled you above the ground, as much as the Yokai who attacked you earlier that day were scary, nothing compared to staring certain death in the face. There was a subconscious urge to just allow this Yokai to just kill you, just so it would stop the painful beating of your heart in your chest.

“You smell so sweet, little human,” he hissed. “I think I’ll take a bite.”

“Y/N!” Kunikida barked, shooting his gun directly at the Yokai’s arm, causing it to drop you to the ground as it recoils in pain. “Keep a safe distance, god damnit!”

“I’m trying!” You shouted back, narrowly dodging another swipe from the injured Yokai. “But your definition of ‘safe distance’ is apparently right in the middle of danger!”

“If you’d just stay put—”

“Stop yelling at me and focus on not dying!” You snapped.

Kunikida growled in frustration but threw himself back into the fight, dispatching the Yokai with a ferocity that made your breath catch. For someone so rigid and controlled, his movements were fluid, almost graceful as he wielded his weapon with ease. For the first time, you had noticed his hands, the way they gripped at the Yokai that seemed to continuously get up after being knocked down. You saw his veins pop on his forearm and-

‘Can my brain just shut the fuck up for one second. Now’s not the time’

After what felt like an eternity, the Yokai were defeated, sprawling unconscious on the ground. In the centre of them, Kunikida and Dazai stood triumphant. Dazai seemed totally unphased by the whole ordeal, but Kunikida was panting, his veins filled with adrenaline; this was something he was used to feeling on an intense mission, but something about seeing you being in the Yokai’s clutches had flicked a switch within him.

You remain slumped against a tree, your heart pounding as Kunikida approached, his expression torn between anger and relief. “Are you hurt?” he asked gruffly, his hazel eyes scanning you for injuries.

“I’m fine,” you said shakily. “Thanks to you.”

He looked away with an unreadable expression. “Good. But you wouldn’t have needed saving if you’d stayed behind me like I said.”

“Here we go,” you muttered. “Lecture number eighty-seven.”

“Y/N—”

“No, really, I get it. I’m a ‘liability.’ I’m ‘too stubborn.’” You crossed your arms, glaring up at him. “You know, maybe if you didn’t treat me like an annoying side quest, I wouldn’t—”

“You are not a side quest!” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended. His words seemed to catch the both of you off guard, and for a moment, he looked genuinely flustered.

Before you could respond, Dazai sauntered over, clapping a hand on Kunikida’s shoulder. “Well done, you two! Another successful mission. Though, I have to say, the chemistry here is electric.”

“Shut up, Dazai,” Kunikida muttered, his face beet red.

By the time the three of you returned to the Agency, the Tanuki were safely scampering back into the forest, their little tails wagging in gratitude. The mission had been declared a success, though not without the usual complications that seemed to follow you and Kunikida like storm clouds.

Inside the main office, Kunikida stood rigidly in front of President Fukuzawa’s desk, his report meticulously detailed and delivered in his signature no-nonsense tone. Dazai lounged in a chair nearby, nodding along occasionally but clearly more focused on teasing Kunikida than contributing to the debrief.

“...and the traffickers have been neutralized,” Kunikida concluded. “The Tanuki are safe, and we’ve eliminated the immediate threat in the region.”

Fukuzawa listened quietly, his stern gaze moving briefly to you, who stood quietly off to the side, unsure of what to do with yourself. Finally, he nodded. “Well done. However, the matter of Miss Y/N’s safety remains unresolved.”

Your ears perked up, glancing nervously at Kunikida, who stiffened as if anticipating what was coming.

“Given the circumstances of your soul-binding contract,” Fukuzawa continued, “and the dangers that remain in the spirit realm, she will need to stay close to you, Kunikida.”

“President Fukuzawa,” Kunikida began, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. “With all due respect, surely there’s another solution. Perhaps someone else—”

“Someone else?” Dazai cut in, feigning surprise. “But Kunikida, you’re her destined protector now. Isn’t it romantic?”

Kunikida shot Dazai a glare so sharp it could have sliced through stone, but Dazai only grinned, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Fukuzawa silenced them both with a raised hand. “This is not up for debate. Kunikida, you will ensure her safety personally. She will stay with you in your dorm.”

You blinked. “Wait, dorm? As in your room?”

Kunikida’s face flushed a deep red. “That’s entirely inappropriate! There must be—”

“Enough,” Fukuzawa said firmly. “This arrangement is temporary. She is only here for 30 days until she is able to return to the mortal realm, 30 years of your life is nothing, you will adapt.”

Kunikida opened his mouth to argue further but closed it when Fukuzawa’s piercing gaze met his. With a sigh of defeat, he nodded. “Understood.”

Kunikida’s dorm was exactly what you had expected: meticulously organized to the point of perfection. The books on his shelves were arranged by size and subject, his desk was spotless, and even the air smelled faintly of something clean and herbal, like freshly brewed tea. It was the kind of space that practically screamed ‘don’t touch anything’.

“Wow,” you said, looking around. “This is… intense. You’d make a great minimalist influencer.”

Kunikida ignored your comment, his focus entirely on setting up a makeshift curtain in the center of the room. He strung up a rod and draped a thick cloth over it, dividing the space in two. On one side was his perfectly arranged futon, a single traditional Japanese bed laid out like a show room. On the other side, was a simple yoga mat he’d hastily rolled out for himself.

“Why the curtain?” You asked, watching him fuss with the placement. “Afraid I’ll sneak a peak?”

“Don’t be crass,” he snapped, adjusting the curtain for the third time. “But yes, this is to maintain some semblance of privacy. I refuse to share a bed with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, at first you felt a pang of disappointment, almost immediately followed by a sly grin spreading across your face as you speak through the makeshift curtain. Your eyes spoke of mischief and feigning innocence, something Kunikida was accustomed to with Dazai, but with you…its different. “You say that like I’d want to share a bed with you…what if I ordered you to share a bed with me?”

Kunikida’s cheeks turned pink before glancing away from your gaze. ‘Such an insufferable, inappropriate woman’ he thought.

“Just stay on your side,” he muttered, turning his back to you. “And don’t touch anything.”

“Noted,” you said with satisfaction in getting him a little flustered. You changed out of your clothes into a nightdress that the Oni Yosano had given you, a bit clinical, but it will do. The first thing you noticed after flopping onto his futon, was how surprisingly soft it was, too soft for the rigid bastard Oni. It even smelt like him, nuzzling your face into one of his pillows. For whatever reason, the smell was a comfort to you.

“You know, for someone bound to protect me, you’re not exactly rolling out the welcome mat.”

“Your survival is my priority. Comfort is not.”

You rolled your eyes but decided not to push him further. Instead, you pulled the weighted blanket over yourself, exhaustion finally catching up with you. The day’s events replayed in your mind—the fight with the Yokai, Kunikida’s fierce determination to protect you, even his ridiculous attempt to lecture you mid-battle. Despite his gruffness, you felt oddly… safe.

“Thank you, for saving me… again”

Nothing but silence could be heard from the other side of the curtain, at least till a small, gruff voice replied.

“Don’t mention it”

It was cold, but at least it was an acknowledgement.

It didn’t take long for you to fall into a dreamless sleep, snuggled within this annoying Oni’s futon; you could tell it was going to be one of the best nights sleep you’d ever had.

On the other side, Kunikida sat cross-legged on the yoga mat, his back straight and his hands resting on his knees. He tried to focus on meditating, but your face was the only thing popping into his minds eye. At first, he tried to suppress those images. He had only met you earlier, but your whole presence was the bane to his existence. He’s helped humans who had fell into the spirit realm before, several times in his years as an Oni, but none have ever given him so much as a headache, compared to you.

But still, the knowledge that you were in his futon right now, stirred something within him, especially with the threat of ordering him to share it with you… ‘God, this woman. I need these 30 days of hell over with’.

After giving himself an internal therapy session, he inhales as to let out a sigh, only to be met with a strange scent, causing his Oni senses to go haywire. His eyes snapped to the curtain… another Oni?

His sharp senses picked up the lingering trace of the antlered Yokai from earlier, clinging faintly to you like an unwelcome shadow. It made his skin prickle with unease. Yokai could mark prey with their scent, making them easier to track, to own. If that creature decided to come after her again…

Kunikida clenched his fists. He had to do something.

Moving silently, he hesitantly approached the curtain. It took a good few seconds to work up the courage to peak through the curtain to see your blissfully sleeping form. Your breathing was soft and even, as if this sleep was long overdue. He noticed how small and out of place you were in his futon, and yet…right at home? The vulnerability sent a pang through him that he didn’t entirely understand.

Carefully, he crept forward and knelt beside you. His Oni instincts guided him to the source of the scent, on your wrist and arm. Although he couldn’t see it, it was almost as if he could see the miasma surrounding your body. He had to get rid of it.

‘He will track her down’ he tried convincing himself before gently taking your arm from the bed, noticing the fact that you were a deep sleeper. ‘He will smell himself on her…he will hurt her…’ he leaned down and nuzzled his head against your arm, feeling and relishing the smoothness of your skin, making sure to get rid of the Yokai’s scent and replace it with his own. It was a primal act, one that would serve as a warning to any Yokai who dared come near you: ‘She is protected. She is mine.’

As a final precaution, he raised your arm up further so that his lips graze over your wrist, kissing it lightly as a sort of silent declaration. Here, he was one step away from sinking his fangs into you, to taste you. Gods, your scent was so intoxicating, a balm to the soul and unlike anything Kunikida had ever smelt, ever felt before. You were so, so tempting… Something about simply holding your arm to his lips was oddly peaceful, grounding in a way he couldn’t explain.

Your presence, chaotic and infuriating as it was, brought a strange calm to his usually controlled and intense mind.

Kunikida let you go and stood over by the curtain, his eyes watching your sleeping form as he reflected his thoughts and feelings. His mind wandered, but a little too far for comfort as he retreated to his side of the room. Kunikida settled onto the yoga mat, closing his eyes, let out a slow breath. Protecting you was his duty, yes. But the contentment he felt with having you here? That was something else entirely.

• Next Chapter ->

#bungo stray dogs #bsd kunikida #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs kunikida #kunikida x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #doppo kunikida #kunikida doppo x reader

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fallenclan · 1 year ago

Note

recent moons have reinvigorated the fallenclan brainworms, so here are my headcanons about what happened during and after the dog attack! (plus a crowflame section bcuz he is my beloved)

-Fernslug, Bluefern and Newtscar suffered the most violent deaths of all cats. Fernslug was being chased by a dog, when she slipped and hit her head on a rock (Rainflower style), Bluefern was being torn apart (not literally i just cant find the right words) and Newtscar's belly was sliced from chin to belly (Tigerclawstar style, but no organs out. newt doesnt need organs out). Evie, their kits, Sweetclover and Ivybounce saw their deaths, mortified.

-Eaglestripe died to protect Daisypetal, Hawkwish and Sorrelstem. Hawk and Sorrel tried to save them both, but nothing worked.

-Gyoza's death was fully accidental. A dog was aiming for Poppyfeather, but miscalculated and killed him instead.

-Evie and Crowflame often have nightmares about that day. At least they try to comfort eachother about it.

-Moosefall buried Salmonskip while looking at the stars, noticing a new star twinkling brighter than the others.

-Flyspots died to protect Wormshade, Beefreckle died to protect both of his dads and Spiderfoot died to protect her dad.

-Russetflare desperately shielded the medicine den, where most living sheltered, along with Cinderstone, Mudsplash and Salmonskip. Some dogs broke her defence and flooded inside killing the four aformentioned cats.

-Hawkwish begged to Rustbee and Bub to take the apprentices and Juniperfoot and ordered them to take shelter at the old abandoned barn.

-Rustbee, Bub, the apprentices and Juniperfoot are lucky enough to not have seen the massacre.

---------------------Crowflame time baybee----------------------------

-Before losing his vision, he would often take walks with Antbite near the fox-pelt thicket (which i imagine have pine trees that easily frost over in leaf-bare) to help with exercise. Though, he would constantly look at the gaps of sunlight inbetween the trees. It reminded him of his family and Blizzardfang.

-Crowflame doesn't have dreams. He stopped having dreams ever since Molesong died.

-He believes he's lost that flame in him.

-He's decently good friends with Evie, Moonstep and Troutspeckle, all in an effort to help them.

-After finding out that Otterslip had died, initially he didn't believe the news, only to be presented his dead body. No one knows how he died, but Crowflame thinks he might have died of hypothermia.

-He always shivers and twitches at night.

-Crowflame has a huge fear of unnoticed by anyone and dying alone, while Pinefrost feared interactions and being grieved by others. Naturally, lots of cats grieved.

-Often times, he forgets he is even transgender. He's completely forgotten he was even a girl.

-After losing his vision, Antbite refused to leave his side.

-He regrets yelling at Lightningtail everyday, even though Lightningtail apologized for pitying him.

OHHH really cool headcanons,,, i especially like all the Crowflame ones, i love that old man sm

#fallenasks #cat death tw #gore tw

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swamplatibule · 8 months ago

Text

GREETINGS it is 9:25 PM on a Sunday as i write this. My hands are shaking rn but that’s probably a result of the energy drink that gave me heart palpitations earlier </3 anyway it’s time for

Lantern Eclipse!

Lantern Eclipse takes place in a world that ended a while ago! Roughly 100-odd years ago, a combination of weird mold creatures, magic nature spirits, and good old-fashioned nuclear radiation completely took over, resulting in the destruction of the vast majority of manmade areas! Most major cities have been completely overgrown with mold and megaflora, save for a few “havens” scattered few and far in between.

Don’t @ me i’ve lost track of how many apocalypse paracosms i have and that probably says something about my psyche that I’m not ready to hear

ANYWAY. Our story takes place in one of those havens, called Guardian City, which is mostly known for its massive size, wild amount of neon lights, and also the really intense military organization called the Shepherd Division that runs the place like the navy! Or like. Half of it. There’s also the violet district that takes up maybe a fifth of the city, which is mostly controlled by various mob kingpins, drug lords, etc. technicallyyyyy the Shepherd Divison is supposed to control the area, but they generally let the violet district remain as is in exchange for all their bullshit not spilling over into the “respectable” areas.

Also I feel like i should mention that Guardian City is huge. Like the size of Montana. There’s a massive wall surrounding its border to keep the plants out, but you cannot see that wall from the center of the city

ANYWAY. This is all basic background info. Now it’s meat time baybee

This is one of those stories where there are several separate plots with entirely different casts of characters going on at once, so I’m just going to go over one of them for now because it’s getting late and as previously mentioned my hands are shaking so bad rn

The first person we need to meet is Fairywren Merlo! She was a skater boy <3 Fairywren is my darling dearest who can do no wrong. She’s also a mercenary for hire and has most definitely killed before. She has a sniper rifle, roller skates, autism and a dream!!

^ that would be her in Normal WorldTM i still have yet to decide on her canon outfit

The next person you should know about is Eddie Duncan, who i described in my notesapp as “like if colonel sanders murdered people. Charming in a gross way, like a marginally more evil televangelist with a gun.” Eddie is an INCREDIBLY influential figure within the violet district - he’s rich, he has the Shepherd Division in his pocket, and he’s also incredibly dangerous, so everyone wants to stay on his good side. Do people like him? Depends who you ask. Everyone, however, is scared of him. To be more precise, they’re scared of his “hunting dog,” the silent, nameless masked man who follows his every command. we’ll get back to these two later.

now, fairywren is Good At Her Job. a bit too good at it. she gets a job to kill some random ass guyTM who she’s never heard of, so she does it! very well! EXCEPT turns out that was the son of a very important member of the shepherd guard, and the guy who hired her to kill him has now vanished, leaving her a) unpaid and b) being searched for by the shepherds. uh oh!!

the best solution she can think of is to get out of the city, but she doesn’t have any means of surviving outside the city until she meets Eddie, who brings her and a few other mercenaries along on some Top Secret Project that he’s working on which requires them all to venture outside the city wall and search for some lost artifact he needs. fairywren and the others are mostly just there to kill mold monsters and be human shields for him.

they go the first few days without seeing any trouble aside from the usual freaky wasteland monsters, and then uh oh! they get ambushed by a group looking for that same artifact! and this is where the “hunting dog” i mentioned earlier becomes Very Important!

he is what’s known in Neon Eclipse as a “terror” - an ageless, human-appearing creature that feeds only on human flesh and is nearly impossible to kill! they’re like vampires but. worse <3 I can go into SO much detail about them but i will restrain myself for now because it’s story time. but. anyway. everyone in their party watches him absolutely rip through all of their attackers!

obviously Eddie’s hired guns aren’t too pleased about traveling out in the middle of nowhere with a guy who would 100% eat them if given the chance, but Eddie assures them that he’s entirely under control. see, each terror has a “heart,” usually in the form of some small weird looking stone. If someone else gets their hands on it, then they can use it to force the Terror to do whatever they want! and Eddie keeps the heart of his nameless follower on a cord around his neck!

turns out Eddie and his older brother used to be in the business of researching terrors about 40 years ago! they stumbled upon the one that now follows him everywhere while he was asleep, and Eddie’s brother got a bit too close and. well. oopsie!

but hey he might be down a brother but at least he has Some Fuckin Guy on his side

some shit happens, and one by one, everyone else in the party dies in various terrible ways until it’s only Eddie, Fairywren, and the terror left. Then Eddie finds his artifact! yay! buuuuut he doesn’t want any witnesses so Fairywren has to die </3 alas! She manages to escape - barely - but it’s hard to outrun a terror for a few minutes, let alone forever. Eddie catches up to her within a few days, and things are looking Very Bad for our dear fairywren, who is now face to face with death.

BUT. instead of attempting to fight the terror! fairywren shoots Eddie! she fully expects the terror to kill her after, but seeing as the guy commanding him is now dead, he takes his heart from Eddie’s body and leaves! and also starts laughing, which is the first noise Fairywren has ever heard him make. spooky

Fairywren is now completely lost in the cursed wilderness with no way back! BUT she eventually catches up with our terror friend (who can talk now thanks to not having Eddie forcing him to be quiet anymore) and they get to be friends <3 yippie <3 she also gives him the name Ford (she suggested harrison ford because he’s her favorite actor but our terror friend thought harrison was a dumb name) they’re still lost but at least they don’t have to worry if they’re attacked and she is mostly confident that he probably won’t murder her

n e way! that’s one major story thread written, who even knows how many left to go 😭 yay

taglist: @burningivy @shrimpnymph @diphtheria420 @parasdreams @dremieblur @acircusfullofdemons @daydreaming-memories (lmk if you want to be taken off the taglist pretty please!!)

#paraportal #my paracosm #paracosm: lantern eclipse #maddblr #my paras

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