#not a dog person but these guys got my back
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cielie-voss · 10 hours ago
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The guinea pig whisperer
Eddie Munson x fem!reader (and her guinea pigs)
Summary: When your family needs your help, you turn to your best friend Eddie Munson to take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Couldn't be that difficult, right?
Warnings: use of y/n, but other than that none I think
Wordcount: 4.4k
Taglist: @violettsoul @evileyeandthecattywhumps
Masterlist
If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗
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“Okay, guys, we’ve got this,” Eddie said softly as he knelt down, trying to convince himself as much as the little creatures in front of him.
“We totally got this.”
Who was he kidding? He totally didn’t have this. What had possessed him to agree to this quest?
As the little furballs scurried back into their houses, teeth chattering in disapproval of the strange guy invading their space, Eddie leaned back against the rustling beanbag and sighed.
Eddie loved animals—really, he did. Sometimes, he even loved them more than people. But most animals didn’t seem to love him back. He was usually too loud, too hectic, too fidgety, and he ended up scaring them away.
“Come on, I’m not a bad guy,” he tried to convince the crested guinea pig that was cautiously sticking its nose out of the door, sniffling and clearly unimpressed with Eddie's presence.
“Hey, it’s not my fault, okay? You’re the one who needs special care. I’m just doing what I’ve been told,” Eddie said, as if reasoning with the little ball of fur would somehow help. Did the guinea pig even understand him? Probably not—it’s just a guinea pig. Guinea pigs couldn’t understand humans, right?
When you had asked him to take care of your guinea pigs for a few days while you were out of town, he figured it wouldn’t be that hard. Feed them a couple of times a day, refill their water bottle—how complicated could it be?
But, oh boy, was he wrong.
You were the most generous person he’d ever met, always caring for every creature that crossed your path. For as long as he’d known you, you’d always had special needs animals in your care. Abandoned rabbits, blind cats, deaf dogs, birds with deformed wings, abused animals—you always tried to give these innocent souls a place of refuge.
The other day, you got a call from your family, needing your help with your grandma’s funeral. In a panic, you reached out to Eddie, asking if he could take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Knowing Eddie’s kind nature and willingness to help, you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Elvis and the other guinea pigs in your absence.
Who could possibly refuse such a request?
Certainly not Eddie.
Before you left, you handed him a list of instructions on how to take care of the guinea pigs, especially Elvis, your oldest guinea pig who needed special attention due to his dental issues.
Veggies cut in thin slices.
He eats pretty slowly, so make sure the others don’t steal his food.
Make sure nothing gets stuck where his teeth are growing back.
Nothing complicated, right? But he hadn’t expected Elvis to be such a diva. When you led him into the living room, where the huge guinea pig cage took up half the space, the other guinea pigs had excitedly approached the glass pane enclosing the cage. But Elvis stayed at the back, laying majestically in his snuggle sack, eyeing Eddie warily, clearly unimpressed by his presence.
As soon as you left and Eddie tried to introduce himself, Elvis sprinted into one of the wooden houses, out of Eddie’s reach. Realizing this task might be more complicated than he’d thought, Eddie sat down and observed the guinea pigs for a while. Maybe they just needed to get used to his presence? Maybe they were just shy and needed to see that he wasn’t a threat?
He glanced at the list you gave him: Treats are in the drawer next to the cage.
Treats sounded like a good idea. He grabbed a handful of pea flakes and tried to lure the guinea pigs out, carefully whispering reassuring words to them as if they could understand him.
Bit by bit, the first noses peeked out of the houses, sniffing the delicious treats in his hand. But it took some more time before the first guinea pig dared to approach Eddie, sneaking up to him cautiously. Excited, Eddie held his breath, freezing like a statue so as not to scare the fragile, timid creature. Just as he was struggling to hold his breath any longer, the guinea pig grabbed one of the flakes and, with its head held high, ran back into one of the houses.
He knew he had to be patient to gain their trust, but no matter what he tried, Elvis wouldn’t come out, making the task nearly impossible.
The rest of the day, Eddie spent in the living room, switching between the couch and the bean bag next to the cage. Whenever he moved around, he made sure to be as quiet as possible. Sitting still was something Eddie wasn’t really good at—he was always fidgeting with anything he could get his hands on.
After a while, he decided to read something to them. Maybe the sound of his voice would help the piggies get used to him? At least it would help him stay still. He figured it didn’t matter what he read aloud, so he inspected the small bookshelf in the corner of the room.
“Romeo and Juliet?” He glanced over his shoulder, searching for approval.
“No, maybe… What about Dracula? No, that’s probably too scary for you guys.” His eyes scanned the other titles. “Red Dragon? No, not appropriate. The Shining? Or maybe Carrie?” He furrowed his brows as he picked up one of the books and turned it around to read the blurb.
“Goddamn, these are some pretty bloody and violent books for such a gentle girl,” he muttered, surprised by your choice in literature. He put Cujo back on the shelf before finding Howl’s Moving Castle.
That might do the trick.
To lure the piggies out of their houses, he placed a bowl of thinly sliced vegetables in the middle of the cage and sat down on the bean bag, reading to them in a soft voice. But still, Elvis remained stubborn, refusing to come out of his house.
“Damn, you really are one headstrong little guy, huh?” Eddie peeked through the entrance of Elvis’s hiding place. “I won’t hurt you. I just wanna make sure you get enough food.”
They locked eyes in a silent standoff—two stubborn souls, neither willing to give in. Eddie cocked his head, looking at Elvis with pleading puppy eyes.
“Come on, dude. Do it for Y/N,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice, as he held out his hand, offering some pea flakes. But Elvis simply turned his back on Eddie. Groaning, Eddie leaned back into the bean bag. How was he supposed to take care of this little guy?
The next couple of hours were a trial of patience for Eddie. Bit by bit the other guinea pigs started to become comfortable around Eddie - accepting the neatly cut veggie strips he offered them in an attempt to gain their trust. They even let him touch them and ate right out of his hand after some time. But Elvis? Hell no. There was no sign he started to trust Eddie. No matter what Eddie tried - pea flakes, grapes, cucumber or even blueberries - Elvis wouldn’t even look at him.
Slowly Eddie became frustrated, even anxiously because Elvis simply wouldn’t eat anything other than hay. After countless rejections Eddie searched through your kitchen, not actually knowing what he was looking for. He let out a sigh, his fingers running through his hair, about to give up, when finally he found a big bush of parsley taking up the space of the kitchen's windowsill. “Okay, one last try” he declared and gently picked a few twigs.
With the parsley in hand Eddie sat down on the bean bag again. “Hopefully this’ll work” he said before he tried to lure Elvis out of his hiding place. And miraculously it was working. Slowly Elvis’ nose peeked out of the little plushy tunnel he was hiding in. And it didn’t take long before, paw after paw, he followed the smell of the parsley in Eddie's hand.
“So you’re just like everyone else,” Eddie stated, grinning like an idiot, “Everyone is corruptible, even a guinea pig like you.” Relieved Eddie watched the little guy munch on that parsley. The little triumph filled Eddie with so much pride, he was convinced that there was nothing stopping him from successfully completing this quest. Even though Elvis was still on high alert, inspecting Eddie attentively and freezing every now and then when Eddie dared to move ever so slightly, it was another small step in the right direction, another piece of the puzzle that was earning the trust of these tiny creatures—Elvis, most of all.
Every morning, he would sit by the cage, reading softly from Howl’s Moving Castle, carefully offering treats, and speaking in his gentlest tone. The other guinea pigs had started to warm up to him, now eagerly gathering around whenever they saw or heard him coming. But Elvis remained stubborn, only occasionally poking his nose out to observe the others before retreating back into his hideaway.
Eddie found himself growing more and more determined. There was something about the challenge that made him even more committed to winning Elvis’s trust. Maybe it was because you had entrusted him with such an important task, or maybe it was because he recognized a kindred spirit in the little guy—a fellow outcast, wary of letting others in.
On the third day, a breakthrough happened. Eddie was lying on the floor next to the cage, chin resting on his hands, his voice low and soothing as he read another chapter. He hadn’t noticed at first, but slowly, ever so slowly, Elvis began to inch closer to the entrance of his wooden house. Eddie kept reading, trying not to make any sudden movements. After what felt like an eternity, Elvis crept out just enough to sniff the air, his tiny whiskers twitching.
Eddie’s heart raced. He didn’t move, barely even breathed, as Elvis cautiously approached the bowl of veggies. The little guy sniffed around, eyes constantly flicking up to keep Eddie in sight. But eventually, he started to nibble on a piece of lettuce, his guard seemingly lowered. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a surge of triumph. Maybe, just maybe, they were slowly starting to understand each other.
But getting Elvis to eat in his presence was one thing; getting him to trust Eddie enough to be touched was another. Every time Eddie tried to reach out, Elvis would dart back into his house, and they would be back to square one. Frustration gnawed at Eddie, but he refused to give up. He tried everything he could think of—different treats, talking to Elvis in even softer tones, staying as still as a statue whenever the guinea pig ventured out. But nothing seemed to work.
One afternoon, after another failed attempt to coax Elvis out, Eddie slumped onto the couch, feeling defeated. He had a sprig of parsley in his hand, the latest in his arsenal of treats, but Elvis wasn’t biting—literally or figuratively. Eddie absentmindedly twirled the parsley between his fingers, thinking about what he might be doing wrong. Then, a thought struck him. He remembered how you had once mentioned that animals, especially small ones like guinea pigs, relied heavily on scent. Maybe Elvis was so attached to you because he associated your scent with safety.
Eddie searched through your apartment until he found a little cupboard in the bathroom, filled with makeup, different sorts of hairspray and a few little flacons of perfume. He stared at it for a moment, the idea forming in his mind. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? But then again, everything else had failed. What did he have to lose?
With a determined sigh, Eddie grabbed the bottle and spritzed a small amount on his hoodie. The familiar scent filled the air, a mix of something floral and earthy, like freshly cut grass. He couldn’t help but smile a little—this was so absurd it just might work.
Feeling a bit silly, but hopeful, Eddie returned to the cage. He gently placed the parsley in front of Elvis’s hideaway and then sat back, waiting. Eventually, Elvis emerged, sniffing the air as usual. But this time, something was different. His tiny nose twitched more rapidly, almost excited, and he stepped out a little farther than usual, his gaze fixed on Eddie. The guinea pig’s hesitation seemed to lessen, and to Eddie’s astonishment, Elvis slowly made his way over to him, stopping just short of where Eddie’s hand rested on the floor.
Eddie’s heart pounded as Elvis sniffed at his hand, clearly intrigued by the scent. He stayed perfectly still, allowing the little creature to take his time. Finally, with what seemed like a deep breath of resolve, Elvis nudged the parsley with his nose and then—almost miraculously—climbed into Eddie’s lap. Eddie was so shocked he barely dared to move. But Elvis, after a moment of careful observation, seemed to decide that this strange new version of Eddie was okay, settling down on his lap.
Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Gently, he raised a hand and started to stroke Elvis’s soft fur. This time, the guinea pig didn’t flinch or run. Instead, he let out a tiny, contented squeak, closing his eyes and stretching out his legs as Eddie continued to pet him. Eddie grinned like a fool, feeling like he’d just won the lottery.
Eddie had settled into a routine with the guinea pigs over the next couple of days. He'd spend his mornings preparing their veggies, carefully slicing them just the way you had shown him, then patiently coaxing Elvis out of his hideaway with a mix of treats, soft words and the scent of your perfume. Though Elvis had finally started to warm up to him, Eddie still found himself with plenty of downtime as the guinea pigs quietly went about their business.
That afternoon, as the guinea pigs dozed off after their midday snack, Eddie found himself drawn to his guitar, which he had brought along just in case he needed something to pass the time. He hadn’t played much since he’d been focused on the guinea pigs, but the itch to strum a few chords was starting to get to him. So, he grabbed his guitar and lay down on the floor, fingers absentmindedly picking at the strings.
He started with something soft, just a few random chords, not really thinking about what he was playing. The sound of the guitar strings filled the room, blending with the soft rustle of hay from the guinea pig cage. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling the familiar comfort of the guitar beneath his fingers.
But as he relaxed into the music, his fingers instinctively drifted into a familiar riff—Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls." The heavy, thrumming notes reverberated through the room, and Eddie couldn’t help but get into it, his fingers moving more confidently across the strings as he lost himself in the music.
He was just starting to really enjoy himself when he noticed something strange. The peaceful quiet of the room had been interrupted by a series of sharp, disapproving clicks. Eddie paused mid-riff and looked over at the cage, where all five guinea pigs were wide awake, teeth chattering in what could only be described as intense disapproval.
Eddie raised an eyebrow, his fingers hovering above the strings. "Seriously, guys?" he muttered, half-amused, half-offended. He plucked another string experimentally, and the chattering grew louder, the guinea pigs shifting restlessly in their cage.
He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "What, you don’t like Metallica? I thought you guys had better taste than that." But the guinea pigs weren’t having it—every time he strummed a chord, their chatter became more insistent, as if they were staging a tiny, furry protest.
Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, I get it. No Metallica,” he conceded, setting his guitar aside with a grin. “Guess you’re more into the easy-listening stuff, huh?” He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Can’t believe I’m getting critiqued by a bunch of guinea pigs,” he muttered to himself, a smile still tugging at his lips.
The room fell back into a peaceful silence, the guinea pigs settling down once more as Eddie let the moment wash over him. He was still smiling, even as he turned his thoughts back to the challenge of getting Elvis to trust him completely.
A few minutes later, he picked up his guitar again, but this time, instead of metal, he gently strummed a softer melody—something calm and soothing, more to the guinea pigs' taste. The chatter subsided, and Eddie felt a small sense of victory as he noticed them relaxing again.
As the days passed, Elvis began to venture closer and closer to Eddie. The once hesitant little guinea pig now seemed less afraid of the strange man who had taken over his home. Eddie noticed the subtle changes—how Elvis would come out of his hiding spot more often, how he’d eat his veggies with less hesitation, and how he’d sometimes watch Eddie with what looked like growing curiosity.
One afternoon, after hours of reading aloud and playing soft melodies on his guitar, Eddie felt the weight of the day catching up to him. The warm afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The rhythmic sounds of the guinea pigs munching on their food, coupled with the cozy warmth of the bean bag, lulled Eddie into a sleepy daze.
Before he knew it, he had dozed off, his head resting against the back of the bean bag, his breathing slow and steady.
Unbeknownst to Eddie, Elvis had also grown sleepy. The little guinea pig had gradually moved closer to the side of the cage nearest Eddie, his tiny body finally relaxing as he curled up in a pile of hay. For the first time since you had left, Elvis drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling safe with Eddie nearby.
About an hour later, Eddie stirred awake. His neck ached slightly from the angle he’d been sleeping in, but as he stretched and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the nap had been surprisingly refreshing. He turned to check on the guinea pigs, expecting to see them scurrying around or nibbling on some hay.
But then he noticed Elvis, who was still lying in the same spot, completely still. Eddie’s smile faded as a pang of worry shot through him. He leaned closer to the cage, his heart starting to race. Elvis wasn’t moving at all.
“Elvis?” Eddie called softly, tapping the side of the cage. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”
There was no response. No twitch of the nose, no flutter of the ears—nothing. Eddie’s mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. Was Elvis…? No, he couldn’t be. But the stillness, the lack of movement, made Eddie’s stomach twist in fear.
Panic set in as Eddie quickly reached out to gently pet Elvis’ white crest, his hands trembling. “Elvis, come on, don’t do this to me,” he murmured, trying to nudge the guinea pig gently. But Elvis remained motionless, his tiny body limp and unresponsive.
“Oh god,” Eddie breathed, his voice tinged with desperation. “Y/N’s gonna kill me. I’m so sorry, Elvis, I didn’t—”
He froze mid-sentence, his brain scrambling for a solution. Maybe Elvis was just in a deep sleep, right? Maybe he just needed a little incentive to wake up. Eddie’s eyes darted around the room, searching for something—anything—that might help.
Then he remembered the parsley. Seemingly Elvis’ favorite thing to snack.
Practically diving for the drawer, Eddie grabbed a sprig of parsley, his hands shaking as he brought it up to Elvis’s nose. “Come on, little guy,” Eddie begged, holding his breath and praying to whatever god might hear him right now. “I know you love this stuff. Just wake up, please.”
For a moment, nothing happened. Eddie’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was on the verge of full-blown panic. But then, just as he was about to lose hope, Elvis’s nose twitched. It was barely noticeable at first, but Eddie’s sharp eyes caught it. Then, slowly, Elvis’s whiskers twitched, and he took a long, deep sniff of the parsley.
Eddie nearly sagged with relief. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered, watching as Elvis’s eyes fluttered open, the guinea pig groggily lifting his head to nibble on the parsley. The sight of Elvis happily munching away, casually as if nothing happened, made Eddie laugh out loud, though his laughter was shaky with the remnants of his panic.
"You scared the hell out of me, you little rascal,” Eddie said, his voice filled with both amusement and lingering relief. He gently stroked Elvis’s fur as the guinea pig chewed contentedly, seemingly unaware of the scare he’d just given Eddie.
Eddie sat back on the bean bag, his heart rate gradually returning to normal as he watched Elvis eat. The little guy had just been in a deep sleep, completely comfortable in Eddie’s presence. Eddie couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride—Elvis finally trusted him enough to sleep so soundly, something that seemed impossible just days ago.
Eddie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he teased, though his tone was affectionate. “But hey, at least I know how to wake you up now.”
For the rest of the day, Elvis stayed close to Eddie, either nestled in his hoodie or perched on his chest as Eddie lay on the couch. They watched TV together, with Eddie flipping through channels until he found an old movie that wouldn’t be too loud or scary.
When you returned that evening, the first thing you noticed was the unusual stillness in your living room. Expecting the usual rustling of hay and the soft chattering of your guinea pigs, you tiptoed in, not wanting to disturb whatever was happening. As you rounded the corner, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks, your heart melting instantly.
Eddie Munson, the chaotic, metal-as-fuck guy you knew, was stretched out on your couch, his wild curls splayed out on the cushion, with Elvis nestled snugly inside his hoodie, just below his chin. The two of them were watching some cheesy sitcom, but it was clear they were both on the verge of dozing off. Elvis looked completely at ease, his tiny nose twitching as he snuggled deeper into Eddie’s hoodie.
You had to stifle a giggle, half from the absurdity of the scene and half from the warmth it brought to your chest. You almost didn’t want to disturb them, but curiosity got the better of you. “How the hell did you do that?” you whispered, eyes wide with amazement. Elvis had always been so fixated on you, never letting anyone else get near him, let alone cuddle up like that. Not even your closest friends or family had managed to gain his trust like this.
Eddie stirred at the sound of your voice, blinking groggily as he turned his head to look at you. A slow, sleepy grin spread across his face when he saw the look of disbelief on yours. He glanced down at Elvis, who remained contentedly curled up, his little body rising and falling with Eddie’s steady breaths. “Oh, this?” Eddie said with a playful smirk, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I found out he’s a sucker for parsley. And, well… your perfume.”
Your eyes widened as you stepped closer, leaning in to catch the familiar scent lingering on Eddie’s hoodie. Sure enough, there it was - your perfume, the one you always wore. The realization hit you like a warm wave, making your heart flutter. “You’re wearing my perfume?” you asked, half amused, half touched by the gesture.
Eddie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? Figured if I couldn’t be you, I could at least smell like you. Gotta say, I think it’s working. Might have to start wearing this stuff all the time, I think it suits me, don’t you?” He winked, clearly enjoying your reaction.
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Ridiculously charming,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to disagree. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it? This little guy’s all about the Munson charm now.” He gently stroked Elvis’s fur with the back of his finger, the guinea pig letting out a contented little purr in response.
“Looks like he’s not the only one,” you muttered under your breath, though a smile tugged at your lips as you said it.
Eddie’s grin widened as he caught your words, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Is that so?” he drawled, his tone light but his gaze warm.
You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your stomach. “Maybe,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper.
For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of the sitcom. You gently draped a blanket over Eddie and Elvis, who both looked completely content in their shared little cocoon. The sight of Eddie, usually so loud and full of energy, lying there with your favorite guinea pig snuggled up against him, melted away any lingering doubts you had about him.
“Thanks for taking care of them,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the blanket for just a moment longer than necessary.
“Anytime,” Eddie replied. “I kinda get it now. Why you’re so into these little guys. Elvis is pretty cool once you get past the whole ‘tiny ball of anxiety’ thing.” His voice was sincere, though the playful glint in his eye remained. “But just so you know, I’m expecting a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty here.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what kind of bonus are we talking about?”
He grinned, tilting his head slightly as he looked up at you. “How about dinner? You know, as a thank you. And maybe you could tell me more about this perfume - I’m thinking of making it my signature scent.”
You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Dinner, huh? I suppose I owe you that much.”
Eddie’s smile softened, his teasing fading into something more genuine. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said quietly, “but I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. And Elvis, of course. We make a pretty good team.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and as you looked down at the two of them, the warmth in your chest spread until it felt like you might burst. Maybe there was something special here - something you hadn’t expected to find.
“Well,” you said, your voice soft, “I guess dinner it is.”
xxx
I wrote this just for myself because I miss my little diva so so much. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. The picture above is one of my favorites, Elvis in his favorite blanket, sleeping on my hand.
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anyroads · 2 days ago
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I'm thinking about that post I saw recently that was about a guy who adopted a stray dog and had all these puppies he couldn't take care of and then OP's mom finally stepped in and helped get their adoptions sorted out and the point was that you can't just think "someone will take care of it" because you are also someone. It's been really cold here this week (freezing temperatures) and last night on my way home I saw a man lying on the sidewalk and everyone just... walked past him. Walked right past him. Most of them avoided looking at him. So I stopped and asked him if he was OK and it seemed like he was probably just really drunk and passing out but it was so cold he was going to be lucky to get away with hypothermia and frostbite and not actually freeze to death. (I also had no way of knowing whether he'd had a seizure or a cardiac episode etc. because he wasn't speaking clearly or coherently.) So I called an ambulance and as I was on the phone and waiting next to this man, people began to stop and try to help. At one point someone walked past and stopped to tell us they'd called an ambulance half an hour earlier. Once there were a few of us standing there and there was someone people could ask "what's going on?" from, one of the people who stopped to do so ran to the gym down the street and got a towel which we put under his head as a pillow as per the ambulance service's recommendation.
I waited as long as I could, laid my thick wide flannel scarf over him like a blanket for lack of anything better, and then left him with another person who had stopped (and was a social worker who had worked with people on the streets), went home which was around the corner, and came back with the spouse and a blanket. When we got back to the man's side there were three other people there also calling an ambulance because as it turned out, the social worker had entrusted someone else to stay with the passed out man when they had to go, and that person had entrusted one of the people now standing there, so in all that time someone had always been there with him. So now three people had called an ambulance, half an hour apart each, and the ETA was 1hr20min for an ambulance so we were expecting one to arrive soon. One of the people who was there lived in the building next to us so they ran upstairs to get more blankets and a hot water bottle. While they did, someone else showed up out of nowhere who had walked past a few minutes earlier and brought a blanket from home. When the ambulance finally showed up another person came running up and said they worked down the street and had called an ambulance TWO HOURS earlier and they were so glad it finally arrived.
And look, I could go off about the disaster the NHS currently is that it takes 2 hours for an ambulance to arrive for a case marked as high priority (which it was, as confirmed to me by the ambulance service). But my point here is this:
Two people had called for an ambulance in the hour before I did. That means this man was lying on the sidewalk for an hour in the freezing cold as most people kept walking past him, except for the few who called an ambulance and then left. And I don't expect anyone to be able to stay and wait for as long as it takes an ambulance to arrive when there's such a delay. But it's important that it was only when someone stopped and stood with him that others stopped too. Because like the OP of that other post said, most people don't realize they can be the someone who does something. But when they see another person be the someone, they feel more confident. It's reassuring knowing there's someone in charge who knows what to do and will tell you what to do and how to do it. And tbh I didn't know what to do. But I knew that emergency services would tell me. And I noticed immediately that as soon as I stood there with this man and became part of his situation, others started to do the same. Which is why I asked that social worker to stay with him and then pass the torch so someone was always with him.
And that's exactly my point: it's ok if you can't be the "someone" all by yourself but you can ask others to help too, and for them to do the same. By the time I came back with the spouse and the blanket, two more rounds of people had cycled through, but where most people walked past this man when I first saw him even though he'd been lying there for an hour, now there was a group of people around him even though its members kept changing - but because there was always someone there, someone else kept stopping and staying too. Where he was vulnerable and freezing when I first saw him, he now had almost half a dozen blankets over him and a hot water bottle. I honestly can't get over the thought that for a whole hour he was just lying there as he was, but as soon as people felt OK getting involved he was covered in multiple blankets.
Because most people need someone else to take the first step before they also do something. The person who brought down the hot water bottle asked me first whether or not they should. And for what it's worth, my answer was an enthusiastic "that's a great idea!" even though in my head I was thinking, "yeah no shit, how is that a question?" Because people are often uncertain or worry that their good intentions might backfire and they get wobbly in emergency situations or even just unfamiliar ones. And part of me wonders how much of the horrific online culture of dogpiling and assuming bad faith has conditioned people to worry, in real life situations, that their good intentions and attempts to help someone else will end up landing them in trouble. So even though in my head I was thinking that the question was crazy and this person should just DO the helpful thing, what came out of my mouth was encouragement and reassurance. Because that's what's actually helpful.
So this is just to say that after last night I've been thinking about that post about how anyone can be "someone" even you. Because it's not just about getting a job done - as soon as a person steps up to be the someone who does something about a situation, others follow much more easily. No one knew that at least two people had called an ambulance when this man had already been lying on the sidewalk for an hour in the freezing cold. But as soon as people got visibly involved, and stayed with him instead of walking away after calling the ambulance, more people did the same. As soon as one person covered him with a scarf and put a towel under his head, people started running to their homes around the corner to get him blankets. So the lesson of being "someone" is that it also helps other people be someone too.
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sockeyesoren · 1 year ago
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Who let the dogs out
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rain-on-wax-feathers · 3 months ago
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nonhuman burr, washington, and eliza!!!
#okay yes proportions r funky ignore that please its design explaining time#burr has a squirrel tail bc he reminds me of the squirrels on the road when ur driving towards them and they panic. not really#i thought itd be funny. he has a deer nose and when he was younger had had those fawn spots on his cheeks. v cute#he also is like stony around his joints. uhm. bc he's grounded and unchanging and it just fits yknow#and then he has the horns that form a halo. he got that from his grandfather.#okay now washington isnt just eagle wings i promise he just hides everything else bc of some leadership physiological thing#he probably has some tree shit going on. maybe a dog idk yet#if yall have ideas let me know#okay so eliza !!!!!!! i wanted to give her wings from the very beginning so here you go#(does alexander have a thing for wings..... idk you'll have to wait and see my maria design /hj)#uhm horns and flowers/plants bc i felt like it???#she has lightning down her back btw. and a feather tail. cant see it bc dress#and she also has those orbs around her. for fun. its like those spirit lights you see in ghost/alien footage#i added the lightning bc of her personality from what i can tell.#amrev#amrev au#elizabeth hamilton#elizabeth schuyler#eliza schuyler#guys which one do i use she has a lot of tags#aaron burr#aaron burr fanart#george washington#george washington fanart#.... is that not a popular tag#anyway#amrev fanart#digital art#art#if youve read this far comment “i love eliza's flowerrr” or something similar.
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bones-n-bookles · 4 months ago
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At work today I wore my DOG NERD shirt my dad made me and it happened to be the day the service dog trainers came in again and I finally got to compliment their dogs (a very well behaved sibe, a giant brown and black dog that looks like. Idfk a malinois Dane mix or some shit, and today a new dog; a 14 month old black gsd). They complimented my shirt and were so happy I recognized the shepherd as a shepherd and not like. A wolf or something. My coworker excitedly told me 5 minutes earlier they had a "baby wolf or something like that" lol. They also loved the photo I showed them of Torch and gave me a business card with their YouTube on it.
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talkorsomething · 5 months ago
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I have Got to get more transgender
#100% секретный дневник левы НЕ ЧИТАЙ#transmasc#trans ftm#transgender#i like 2 say i'm very trans already but unforch i am Not Really. mostly boring ftm Guy Ever#so tempted to cut my hair again but my sense of what i look like is already so fuzzy i dont think it'd help..#want to dye my hair anyways. at this point i'd take whatever color i can get if not purple LOL#it's almost everything i could want and yet ... still me. still the same life. stuck.#soooo high functioning like you wouldnt believe EXCEPT istg i need an emotional support human who will guide me through tasks#such as 'pay with your Moneys Card at the Store'#or... idk that's it really. maybe go grocery shopping without feeling like i'm not meant to be there also#or like. exist in general maybe#reasons why not emotional support Animal: creature cannot understand capitalism. and also is not as necessary as a service dog specifically#idk! every time i come on here i fall apart (in text) and then pull myself back together for another day of ... this i guess.#i'm not even having like crying breakdowns or anything to go along with it i'm just held inside this shell of a body. typing away again#i'm soso tempted to make things worse. progress wouldn't matter anymore... at least maybe it would feel real that i'm like this#i wish my face fit on my body right. and also that i did not look quite so much like a vaguely gnc lesbian#like at LEAST let me look butch as hell but no. curse of sad hair & uncertainty#miss my little mullety thing from that brief period in october... miss my short hair from back in 2017 ...#just dont feel satisfied with what i am now. in general.#top surgery is literally Within my reach but i'm not sure about cost and i need to wait because of doing guard now......#my list of do i want t i kept for the past month turned out to be a bunch of maybes#partially cause i got sick. partially cause it stopped being shark week and i forgot about it#as always happens...#still unsure in my new(er) name. only heard it once#didn't feel the same way as with my old one? but idk. just don't know.#missing guard also but feeling conflicted about not having time for other hobbies...#since winter season is over i've had so much time to play guitar! that's insane! mostly cause i stopped playing for unrelated reasons...#just tired again. wonder if i need more sleep than what i always get. kind of restless.#there's nothing else to say i guess. just wish i could be a person the way everyone else seems to be.
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gratitude list time I'll go first
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sysig · 1 year ago
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Some possible* Tala stickers :D (Patreon)
#My art#Original#Tala#*I'm more just playing around with the idea of making some - personal stickers!#I mean I'm the biggest Tala fan anyway it's fine if it's for an audience of one lol#I finally got my hands on some sticker paper a bit back now it's just a matter of getting them the size I want and finding a good printer!#Ours is uh....well just don't look too closely at some of the greyscale pages I've posted they leave a bit to be desired lol#And that's just black and white I'm a little concerned what it'd do to pictures! :'D#Though I say that but it did print the art from Roundabout quite nicely so hmm! Maybe! But I do have other avenues if I want them :)#It's nice to have options!#For the time being they're just cute little guys of one of my cute little guys! :D In her doggy form and specifically her plush puppy form ♪#I really have been enjoying adding to her physical accessories haha - she's always got her little gold stitch/scar#And then her first accessory being the bracelet - and then her face mask - and now her ribbon! :D It's all very cute she's very cute#She's also good feral practice since I'm still not very good at drawing dogs or cats or the like :'D#I used references for that first one! Wowie!#I'm a fan of how she turned out overall :) I can still see some work I'd like to improve for her back legs but other than that :D#Baring her little teefsies hehe she's so scary ♥#My love of drawing plushies rears its head again - she is added to the list! No soft shading or lighting like MewTwo tho that's alright#The stitches are the really important part :) I like them!#I wish she could sit like that irl haha she's actually very stable to stand! A little awkward to sit#And finally a cutesy cartoony one :D She doesn't have paw beans irl either but come on I had to!#I debated whether they'd be pink or brown but I think I'm happiest keeping her palette simple :)#She's so cute <3
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kens-puku · 7 months ago
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Y'all are gonna think I'm so weird.
But I'm running with this idea I've had for a while for my mcl ocs. Well, other than the actual other mcl ocs I've made.
It's part lazy, part bizarre.
Clones.
Yep, clones.
My MCL NG oc is a clone of the original Puku, but different. I haven't figured out the details yet, but it's like what I did with Pukun, Puku's male clone. It has the idea of a type of clone theory idea of nature vs nurture. The DNA and nature of the puku clones is the same, but the nurture is always a bit different depending on circumstances. Puku "prime" is the parent of all the clones made, but Puku "prime" had a different parentage and upbringing than the clones. Not to mention, the events of each mcl game has different outcomes for clone Puku.
This Puku has -teal- hair and is a zoomer, I guess. Raised by Puku "prime" and has the existential grappling of dealing with being a clone in general.
There's... still a lot of ironing out to do. Like... Where does Kentin fit into all this? How should I incorporate the family given to Puku 2.0 in New Generation?
Why am I giving this plot to an MCL OC!??
lol
#my candy love#my candy love new generation#mcl ng#not that it matters at all. i don't believe I'd really write much lore on all this. it's just what my mind thinks of when regarding thispuk#actually I'm leaning more towards Puku 2.0 being raised by the family in universe. but Puku prime is like the creepy person that pops in#from time to time to make sure teal puku is doing alright#all of the pukus are adopted anyway lol#i have to study zoomers so I can know what zoomers are all about#wait... being a zoomer is all about upbringing during a certain time period.. so technically this Puku should be a gen alpha but JUST GO WI#dw guys I'll program this puku with the memories of a gen zoomer#When the teal puku was “born” from the test tube#puku prime put all the things zoomers grew up with on a crt television and had her watch it for a couple years while the body grows rapidly#it's all good fams we got this#teal puku would be like to peers “what do you mean your parents didn't have you watch your memories before they became memories?”#so like... teal puku will be “raised” by puku prime for about 4 years with programming. Then she'll be dropped off at the door step of the#family in NG with the instructions that she needs them to be her new family#yeah it's perfect!#just... so many of those gen z starter packs that I seen around#like minecraff and fortnite and the wii... yeah it's perfect#i need to remember how much aging happens in one year that I must have decided at one point. like a dog.#i think it was 1 year = about 4 years of growth but I can't member rn#but as per usual that growth cycle only goes on until reaching the age of the dna sampled. then it goes back to normal puku dna human growt#so actually 1 year of zoomer childhood programming#wait... the plot holes... are still.. T__T#I'll workshop it.
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lonely--seeker · 7 months ago
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I think I'm going insane. Lately my dreams have been so mundane, it wouldn't be weird if I wasn't just a person that has nightmares 80% of the time, so I now my dreams are so hard to distinguish from reality.
I wouldn't be able tell what was real from what not if it wasn't because last night I went to my doctor's appointment and I was handed new glasses by Harvey just to go back home and find out Laois was cooking something in my backyard.
#to be fair. in my dream i was back at my old house. so the horrors where there still#also i've been dreaming about my dog. but sometimes it's not him. it's other dog trying to replace him. but it's not him. i miss him dearly#but it's... weird. i never actually dream with characters either. something strange is going on#I've been telling my brother i wake up and i have to remember who i am#for the totally normal dreams. it's like my soul is divided and it's living somewhere else for the night#who is the person i am when i dream. because it's not me. it's a whole different live. whole different people around me. I'm going insane#there's such a strange feeling about it. it's familiar? it's comfortable?#which only makes it even more weird. why is a life so different to mine feel so comfortable...#to the point i wake up and i don't remember who i am for at least ten minutes#but then i forget what i had dreamt about. and then i go around my day randomly reminding things. then that's when i realize those memories#were actual dreams#i should write a fanfic about this lmao#it was a nice dream though. i remember vividly i was sitting in one of those chairs thingies that hang in the air?#and i was swinging happily. i think Laios was talking about where he got whatever the fuck he was cooking. i couldn't understand him really.#he wasn't speaking in spanish but it wasn't english either. i think it was a made up gibberish... I'm still baffled by how comfortable i was#i think there were friends around too. maybe a hangout was going on? everything was nice. it reminds me of the times#i would go eat at a friend's house. but things felt a lot nicer. it was like if time had stopped and nothing wrong could ever happen.#and even then. i was still there. which i think that's why i started to feel dizzy in my little swing. i ended up waking up from that.#i still get dizzy remembering it.#welp. I hope i don't lose myself tonight...#I don't actually know what's worse. the nightmares are common. they are familiar. there's comfort in knowing what to expect.#but “good” dreams like that... i end up thinking about them too much. the residual feeling is weirder#and i have to deal with the whole different layer that is.. there's was a fucking anime guy there. kill me. kill me. get him OUT of my brain#I'm not lying when I say I can physically feel Laios rearranging my brain in ways i will not share publicly#kill me.
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boygirlctommy · 5 months ago
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i madeeee sillay new characters and i love them
#my post#will post drawings tomorrow. tired.#BUT!! there are superheroes and this sillay. honestly very minor criminal. villain of the week type guy. but she never gets caught so she#just keeps coming back to cause problems. her name is bonnie and shes a shapeshifter and i love her. but anyways one day shes fighting thes#guys and falls off a bridge. now this is not actually an issue for her bcus she can simply Have Wings if she wants to. but she chooses to#use this to fake her death bcus shes tired of these guys and wants to try to take them down from the inside.#so she returns under the name lyra and becomes like a sidekick to them. only she is absolutely shocked to discover that the one hero- real#name oslo- has been MOURNING HER??? apparently they feel terrible for causing her 'death' and never truly hated her and are wracked with#guilt about it???? bonnie does not know how to feel about this it is incredibly weird actually.#the other hero is named merrick and she does not give a shit she thought bonnie was annoying as hell. unfortunately for her 'lyra' also#just so happens to enjoy annoying her to hell and back. yay.#also oslo n merrick have day jobs as office workers for a Large and Productive cheesecake corporation.#i couldnt think of what to make their company do so i made it very serious paperwork about cheesecakes#i think lyra would be like. idk. janitor. or delivery person.#OH DID I MENTION THEYRE ALL ANIMALS. i wanted to draw animals is the reason why#oh oh oh the NAMES the NAMES#so weve got bonnie goose the mongoose. bonnie bcus i wanted to base it on mongoose> mon goose> monnie goose> bonnie goose#lyra reeves the . dog of unspecified breed so far. maybe scottish terrier or schnauzer. i like their rectangular heads. shes a dog bcus i#thought itd be funny to take a Loyal animal and make her betray them lol. also lyra is a constellation of a lyre > rhymes with liar.#and reeves is from lyre > orpheus > reeve c.arney lol#merrick wolfe the maned wolf :3 i dont have anything deeper on this one its just m and then wolf. however her superhero name is red fox#which i think is funny. she has fire powers.#and oslo stone :] large bear. idk what kind ill probably be boring and just make em a brown bear. in my heart shes a black bear but brown#is easier to color. um um erm oslo bcus it is one letter off from oso which is bear in spanish. stone bcus i liked how it sounded also her#superhero name is boulder and she has superstrength lol#thats all of em so far :3 its so fun and sillay and i love themmmm#i love drawing merrick the most
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ereborne · 1 year ago
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Song of the Day: December 9
"Allies or Enemies" by the Crane Wives
#song of the day#today class we will be discussing a tale of human suffering#so I mentioned yesterday how 'Slow Ride' by Foghat was the song of the day because of how the first ninety seconds were continuous-looping#alright yeah so now imagine me sitting shotgun as we drive half an hour to the movie theater#(to see Godzilla Minus One. it was bitchin I do very very recommend)#and the boys are discussing the latest construction along our highway#which has been a topic of great consideration for me actually#--I had a thought about erosion patterns and groundworks the other day and I went on a whole research spiral#downloaded some guy's doctoral research and all. we know how the research spirals go--#anyway this is a topic I would have loved to weigh in on!#but instead every mental width of band I had was dedicated to my subconscious' dogged insistence#that the assonance and emphasis and rhythm of 'are we allies or enemies' and 'slow ride / take it easy' were similar enough#that I should be able to find a way to match them up to one another's backings#so the boys were like 'Alexis what do you think of those pylons' and I was trying so so so hard to answer#(I think they're moving the I-95 interchange ramps entirely and adding a new lane over--y'all can't see me point. it's over there though)#I was trying so hard to answer but it was like a little cartoon man trying to climb up a rockslide#except the man is my answer about the bridges for the interstate ramps#and all the comically round rocks ponking off his forehead were different ways a person might be able to scrunch and/or stretch syllables#to fit the choruses of these two songs over one another. 'are we slow ride guitar sounds death of mee'#anyway yeah! I've got all these little focusing tricks painstakingly cultivated over three decades of ADD and living with little siblings#and now we know they can all every single one be absolutely obliterated by the lightest application of a single classic Foghat song
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izzypaw · 7 months ago
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im so happy because i get to go home tomorrow!!!!!🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶
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waywardsalt · 8 months ago
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damien and linebeck have the minor dynamic of damien being a guy who’s pretty well built and has a healthy bit of fat on him and linebeck having the prestigious title of ‘boniest man on the great sea’
#salty talks#damibeck#damien fletcher#linebeck#sure! i need to stop worrying abt putting my oc x canon and other post ph atuff in main tags#anyways. its a fun dynamic in the sense that linebeck generally isnt tooooo interested in sex and doesnt typically get a lot out of it#at least not really touchy feely ‘normal’ sex while damien has more of a sex drive and gets more enjoyment out of it. he likes the bones#but he also has the occasional thought of man it feels like im fucking a redead. anyways. this is important for post ph#cuz like. hes bony partically bc hes iust like thst but primarily bc hes underweight n has food problems. so thats smth they work on w him#so damien’s perspective as smth who enjoys being physical abt linebeck and pays attention to the shape and feeling of his body#is an intimate metric of. through damien holding him by the end of post ph its known that hes at a little bit of a healthier weight#linebeck likes being skinny and generally will stay in that area through how he lives and his preferences genetics and stuff#its just like. hey man. you are skin and bones rn. goal is. healthy weight. and damien holding him is the periodic measurement. yeah?#this is partially why i typically hc him as bein gaunt to the point of emaciated i can have this development n its tied to my hc backstory#the other reason is bc bony guys make me feel like a rabid dog#when my mom and i rewatched arcane a few months back she asked why viktor is my favorite character#and i had to take a minute and come up with an answer that wasnt i feel feral when i can see a man’s ribcage#but anyways under the overarching plot and minor arcs post ph is very much recovery as its personal plot#its a bit inspired by berserk in that way (not explaining itd take a whole but iykyk) so its. linebecks condition is important#his is the most important bc he needs the most work done and hes the most in need of the support group the crew makes up#yeah. anyways linebeck is bony as fuck and damien kinda has a thing for it tho linebecks tailbone is a fucking DAGGER so thats smth for him#slightly similar is body hair comparison- damien doesnt have much the T let him down hes got a lil but not much in post ph#while linebeck is generally pretty hairy and damien also likes that. he sleeps with him like mmmm chest hair and then Bones. im losing it
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year ago
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Living in a small town for pretty much all your life is like being in a sitcom that’s been going on for way too long
#you end up being like ‘it’s season 27. why are we now bringing back a character who hasn’t been seen since season 16’#aka guy i had a crush on in secondary school’s mom is in my pilates class#ya girl never forgets a face so as soon as she walked in i was like ‘i Know her. i swear to god i know her’ my mom was like ‘you don’t know#anything’ i was like ‘hush. it’ll come to me’#it bothered me throughout the whole class but then at the end i walked out into the church car park and literally laughed#she has a personalised number plate with her surname and first initial. i turned to my mom and was like ‘don’t ever tell me i don’t know#something ever again’ she’s like ‘what’ because she’s not even familiar with this person as a concept#so i have to explain about the time this boy turned up at my house unannounced and was like ‘do you want to go for a walk’ and i was like#‘hell yeah’ so we went back to his house and his three dogs jumped all over me and his mom asked me about a bazillion questions#that was 11 years ago#i have not seen her since that day but i swear to you i remembered her. i just couldn’t figure out from where until i saw the car#anyway he’s doing like a postgrad in geology now somewhere. i bet she’s mad. she was one of those parents who hires like a billion tutors#and hopes their kid will become a doctor. babe your first mistake was sending him to a state comprehensive with a bad ofsted rating 👍🏻#literally just pretending to be catholic long enough to get him into the catholic school would’ve done way more than hiring tutors#and it would’ve been free! no one can tell me lying to the church gets you nothing#my best friend from primary school went there and got to do free violin lessons and learn german; japanese and french AND they had macs#meanwhile i was playing cricket without a bat because our school couldn’t afford bats. life isn’t fair#personal
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the-busy-ghost · 2 years ago
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Heard a Full-Grown Adult who was sitting behind me on the train tonight genuinely say “I don’t know why people are worrying about the cost of living” and honestly even if he was joking, I’m amazed his girlfriend didn’t dump him on the spot
#Poor lassie tried to explain why it's not a good thing; personally I was tempted to chuck him off the train#And I say this by the way as someone who is *not* worrying about it personally as I know I'm ok for money#but I am worrying for everyone else I know and within thirty seconds I could come up with dozens of scenarios#where the cost of living crisis would destroy even a relatively well-off family's life#Like ok say my mum had got ill when I was two instead of when I was 25#Even aside from the fact that you know the family was already ruined by the fact that she was dying#There would have been no savings to fall back on and my dad couldn't have supplemented his income#because he would have been taking care of a toddler and being a full-time carer to my mum and two dogs#And he wouldn't have had adult children to help and maybe the company would have given full pay for a while#but either way eventually my mum would have been on statutory sick pay with energy bills doubled#a mortgage repayment schedule which has become even more expensive as it was renegotiated during Liz Truss' mismanagement#Petrol bills through the roof and no option to take public transport because unreliable and rail strikes#I think he'd be well past worried at that point if not actually destitute#And my mum was a chartered accountant#Imagine the cost if she had been on minimum wage or if she had been in a very valuable but low-paid profession like nursing#And you don't even need illness to crop up for most lower-income professions anyway because everything is beyond your means#Or how about the fact that old age pensions are below living wage#I hate to use a personal example but honestly did this guy just not have any life experience whatsoever#had he never met someone who made all the right decisions but fate screwed them or were just scraping by#Was he just saying that to get a rise out of his girlfriend (I doubt this as he was then very dismissive about single mothers)#Or was he just the most callous person in existence#Calmly and unapologetically existing on a train in Scotland#Move over Scrooge; take a seat Maggie Thatcher; there's a new kid in town#I would like to scream
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