i just want to be a good dog so badly. i want to bring happiness to my person's life and make their day brighter and bring a smile to their face when they see me. but i cant. im trying so hard to be a good dog, i swear. but i still bite. i still flinch when my person moves too quickly next to me. i still cower when they lift their one of their feet near my body, and prepare for a blow to my side. i still growl at them when i doubt my safety. i'm still afraid. and i try so hard not to, but sometimes, i still bite.
i dont think im the good dog my person deserves. but im trying really hard for them. maybe, one day, ill bring them as much happiness as a good dog is supposed to.
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love like a dog : fucked up toby romance headcanons
puppy love but make it depraved
he gives you a love like rotten fruit. maybe it could've been good if he hadn't been touched by decay, if he hadn't allowed himself to spoil. unfortunately, the rot flows through his veins like a sludge, infecting the things that get too close. just like you did. his sick latched onto you and festered like an infected scar.
he knows the mold is inherent to him, that it's in his instincts; this incessant drive to be fed, satisfied, noticed. he takes warmth from whoever will give it, wherever he can get it. he roams like a mutt with his nose to the ground, a fugitive hunting for scraps. wagging his tail at even the suggestion of tenderness, uncaring of where it comes from, only that he's receiving it.
he sticks to your heels, stays so close that you trip over his unrelenting fervor for you. as a stray, he sat and waited for someone to accept the things he couldn't change, for someone to stop and look between the bars of his cage. he waited so long for you. when you leave he'll wait for your return. if you're late he'll wait until then. he'll wait and wait and wait.
he worships the hand that feeds him. that hand is yours. he leans into it, tries to force himself under your palm, thrusts himself beneath the divine light of your gaze. if you even cast a glance his way it's enough for his tail to wag. he pursues your attention and affection like a hound, with no regard as to whether or not he's hurting himself in the process. the only thing you do is reinforce it with every bit of praise you give him, and he accepts it graciously. you're his person.
he doesn't bark or bare his teeth for fear of getting hit again. he bares them at the world, but never at you. he had been taught to bite, but he is not a bad dog. everything he does is with the intent to please. he brings you gifts, kneels and lays them at your feet with his tail between his legs, hoping that he'll be rewarded with your touch. hoping that it makes him worthy.
he doesn't even care if you love him as much as he loves you. he'll sleep at the foot of your bed if it means he can be on it, follow you if it means he can be close, spend his days at your feet if it means there's a chance you'll scratch him behind the ears. he'll sit at your door until you want him. he'll pull out his canines and declaw himself just to prove he'd never hurt you.
he loves like a dog and he takes what he is given.
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"I'm just a dog with no bite" ok? what if I'm a dog with a bite history? what if I'm the dog who bit and left marks every time someone tried to leave? what if I'm the dog who looks scary but all I need is someone who will have the courage to love me?
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wow man you’re so will toledo, alex g, bugs, rot, religious trauma, dog motif, canine poetry pilled
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“dog stained with a wolfs touch”
trigger warning implied sexual assault :
this piece is based on a personal journal entry of mine, metaphorically referencing csa & it’s long term effects. click below to read it.
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