my ao3
she/her
just call me puppy or whatever
please dm me if you want to use my blurbs as inspiration!
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we're not kids anymore.
trying on a metaphor
Peter Solarz
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@puppydogwhitaker
my ao3
she/her
just call me puppy or whatever
please dm me if you want to use my blurbs as inspiration!
Blehhhh
guys theyâre making omegaverse tv shows, weâre cooked
i love being told i get it because like yayyyy i often donât
it was important to jack that he maintained the same size.
getting new clothes was annoying. everything was made worse nowadays, and cost twice as much. he didnât like buying new clothes, wearing them for a shift, only to find a seam or tag or pocket that bothered him. jack hated new clothes. heâd take his dryer softened, nearly threadbare, oftentimes pilling wardrobe over just about anything.
changing sizes was also hard with a prosthetic. his leg had been fine tuned to his body at a specific point. any more or less and there started to be issues. jack didnât want to deal with making all the appointments and possibly paying out of pocket for a recalibration.
jack told himself he watched what he ate, weighed himself every morning and night, meal prepped lunches he always forgot to eat at 3 AM, and focused on cardio as much as lifting because of the convenience of staying the same size.
he really needed to be able to put on his ring.
after she died, he accidentally gained weight. he could barely get the precious metal back on. he resolved right then that would never happen again.
he could get it resized, but he didnât want another thing to change.
everything was different, at least he was the same.
an important distinction
Dennis who could lift a bale of hay without breaking a sweat.
Dennis who started drinking when he was 14 and could shoot whiskey by the time he was 16
Dennis who started smoking when he was 13 and now only occasionally gets a cigarette out after a bad shift
Dennis who has a mean right hook and has taken down men twice his size with one punch
Dennis who can fix anything if he has the right tools
Dennis who learnt to appear weak and unthreatening as a survival skill
dennis the thief whitaker may have taken some souvenirs from house sitting
Whitsantos after trinity gets reported for calling dennis slurs (friendly fire)
dennis who has trouble sleeping and usually just masturbates as a last resort to eventually tire himself out and doze off. now that he's dating jack abbot he gets eaten out by him like a man starved sending dennis to a mind boggling orgasm that it usually just takes him seconds to finally get a good night's sleep.
i love your hybrid puppy dennis fics and posts đ im so so glad i found your account !
what do you think about hybrid puppy dennis being friends with other hybrids ? i just think trinity and dennis cuddling would be adorable đŠ
Thank you so so much! Sorry it took me a while to get around to this I lowkey was like âomg what a good ask lemme do a proper reply â and then forgot for days ahahah <3
OKAY so I have thoughts on hybrid Trinity because I think she would be suchhhhh a fun cat-based hybrid. She wants and needs affection but itâs got to be on her terms, and often growing up people would feel like they could just pet her ears or pull at her tail (a common thing for all hybrids) but after [her canon] experiences she is much more aware and picky about touch, and people just dismiss it as part of her feline hybrid nature. Cats are just like that, right?
I was talking about this with a friend but a really interesting cultural shift over the last ohhhhhh ten years maybe is that many people in fandoms view themselves as stakeholders and not audience members. Because of that, they think that the fandom should be running things or at least have an acknowledged say in how something is run. And every reminder that they are not in control, no matter how small, bothers them.
Realizing the writing doesn't have to be done alone and is often more fun and more engaging when you're doing it with friends is a life changing experience.
I don't mean co-writing either. I mean having a friend or two who you talk through plot ideas with, who you bounce ideas off of, who you trust to tell you if something doesn't work.
Nothing is created in a vacuum and nothing can be created alone. Sharing drafts and ideas is a vital part of the creative process and it's a really fun part too.
(I hope work gets betterđ)
I think Dennis really, really enjoys getting his hair played with, like melts when anyone cards their hands through, and maybe rabbot knowing that and using it when Dennis is trying to slip out of bed on a day their all off?
Ough he's just like me fr (I also love having my hair played with). Again... this got away from me a bit. It's soft and sappy and I kind of love the idea of it <3
Dennis was an early riser. It didn't matter how late he went to bed, if he had work or not, or where he was, he was up at 6am at the absolute latest. It was one of the many things that carried over from farm life into emergency medicine: early mornings and late nights.
dennis liked bruises. he always had.
growing up on a farm, he was no stranger to them. he liked the way they turned purple then yellow. he liked the physical proof something had happened to him. he liked poking them and feeling the acheâŠ
it was weird, in retrospect, how he never really thought about getting a hickey. by the time dennis wasnât terrified to have evidence of the fact he was a person who had sex, everyone seemed to have gotten over them.
except for robby. robby, at fifty-two years old, apparently loved to suck on dennisâs neck until the skin pulsed. which was what he was doing right now.
âi-itâs too hot for a turtleneck, robby!â dennis complained, but did not pull back from the suction and rolling teeth. âi canât hide it.â
robby bit down one more time and squeezed dennisâs waist when he pulled back. âjust say your burnt yourself with a curling iron.â
âi donât-â dennis moaned as robby latched onto a completely new spot on his collarbone. âi even donât curl my hair.â
robby didnât answer, palming dennis instead. dennis allowed it, his resistance hollow.
he couldnât wait to press on the bruises in the morning. it was worth whatever trinity said.