Monsta X Reaction to: Meeting Their GF’s Husky But They Had Imagined A Small Puppy
Hello! :D Can I request a Monsta X reaction when they meet their gf’s dog for the first time and it’s a Husky (they imagined some small puppy)? Thank you!! <3
Shownu: The affectionate dog messes up his hair in their attempt to greet the new guest. He never told you he had been expecting a small dog, so he just smiles.
“He’s very friendly. I hope we can continue to be friends.”
Wonho: He’s knocked to the floor, assaulted by the friendly husky’s wet kisses. “What is this beast?” he jokes. “I thought I would be meeting a tiny puppy!”
Minhyuk: He’s already a puppy so regardless of the dog’s size, he will get along with them. He was just so surprised by its size, feeling almost worried when the dog leaped on you in greeting.
“Is this really a dog? Or a horse?”
Kihyun: ”Yah! What’s the need for a dog that’s bigger than me? I thought you had a small, sweet puppy. If I’d known you owned a beast, I’d have come dressed in armour.”
Hyungwon: Had expected something small, that you could both cuddle with at night. ”I don’t know how to tell you this but … I don’t think Mr. Tiddles will fit in bed with us.”
Jooheon: ”Oh, giant doggo, please accept me as your owners boyfriend. I promise to protect her heart and not pee on the carpet.”
I.M: Meeting your dog was more important than meeting your family. A dog’s trust is of the utmost importance, he feels. He had prepared himself to win the love of a tiny pup, that he could carry around cutely. When he walks into your home, he’s instead glared down by a protective beast.
“Meeting your father was less scary than this …” he gasps.
It’s important to listen to your clients, even if you’re confident you already know what they’re going to say.
Mrs S was an older lady who’s life revolved around her cat at the retirement village. She was no longer as mobile as she used to be and so her children had moved her into an assisted living facility. A nurse would come on a regular basis to help her with her medical concerns, a house keeper came twice a week to keep the house in order, and she would periodically catch a taxi to bring Tiddles to the vet.
Mrs S didn’t seem to have terribly much to do in her life other than watch Tiddles. She was aware of Tiddles’ every movement during the day, and even took him out for a short walk to the letter box on a lead each afternoon.
Tiddles did not approve of this. Despite my efforts I couldn’t convince Mrs S to stop.
Tiddles did not like coming to the vet, but put up with it in stoic fashion. He would sit on the table, legs curled up beneath him, tail thrashing madly. Mrs S would take a seat and leave me to examine her cat
single-handedly. While Tiddles flattened his ears and growled softly for his exam, Mrs S would tell me how much Tiddles must like me, oblivious to her cat’s body language and too deaf to hear his growls.
The first time I met Tiddles and Mrs S, she was in a bit of a tizz. She’d just been in hospital and the cat had been boarding at a cattery for a while. She was convinced the cat was sick from stress, and that this was the cattery owner’s fault.
“And I said Tiddles is going to need valium to get over the stress!” Mrs S explained, “And do you know what he said then?”
“No, what did he say?” I replied, carefully extracting one paw at a time from under Tiddles’ ample girth for a nail trim.
“He said I should be the one taking the valium!”
The visit was otherwise uneventful. Tiddles was overweight but not in bad shape, and I suggested his stress would be helped by not dragging him out on walks (she described it as dragging him along for his own good because she thought he needed to eat the grass) and and not letting the various people that came to her house to help her drag the cat out from under the furniture to lock him away .
Weeks pass before Mrs S brings Tiddles back to the vet for a checkup, though I’m not entirely sure why.
When I asked Mrs S what I could do for Tiddles today she proceeded to tell me everything the cat had done in the past several weeks, from the beginning when she’d picked the cat up from the cattery.
“And I said Tiddles is going to need valium to get over the stress!” Mrs S explained in a familiar tone, “And do you know what he said then?”
“…What did he say?” I asked cautiously,
“He said I should be the one taking the valium!” I took a moment to be relieved that Mrs S didn’t drive.
At her third visit Mrs S proceeded to tell me the entire story again, starting with the cattery, including everything she had told me in the second visit, and everything that had happened between then and the third visit. I was beginning to be familiar with the story by now.
“And I said Tiddles is going to need valium to get over the stress!” Mrs S explained, yet again, “And do you know what he said then?”
“He didn’t suggest it was you that needed the valium, did he?”
Mrs S stopped mid story. “Yes he did! Has he caused trouble for other people too?”
For a woman who seemed to have such an excellent memory regarding the life of her cat, she didn’t remember this change in the conversation at the fourth, fifth or sixth visit
And the story grew longer. Every. Single. Visit.
I still don’t think there was ever anything actually wrong with Tiddles.
This advice is based on a year’s worth of pro work in comics, twenty years of trial and error trying to break in, and about 5 years working as a freelance illustrator. (I’m 25). So these aren’t rules, just suggestions based on my own experience.
At some point, assuming you haven't already, could you show us all your custom tsums and tell us who they're based on? Please and thank you. 😀
Maria Hill, Phil Coulson, and Quicksilver were made with a resin cast of Captain America. The Iron Man armors are obviously made with Iron Man (I get a lot of spare Iron Mans, so I just repaint them for variation.) The Destroyer is made from Giant-Man. Mr. Tiddles (Black Panther’s cat from the LEGO games) is made from Figaro. Ragnarok and Beta-Ray Bill are made from Thor, naturally. Scarlet Witch is made from Alice. Bruce Banner is made from Hulk. And MCU Vision is made from Classic Vision.
The gifts I gave to the Night Vale crew! Sadly, I didn’t get a picture of the box I delivered them in but I managed to get pictures of the actual pieces. I was really happy with how everything turned out even if it was a bit of a challenge to get everything to hang right or to line up just right. But hey, you’re not really crafting unless you’re cursing, right?
Mr. Tiddles squeaked as he hit the floor. His leg hurt, bad, like his ear, but he knew where he had to go. He had to run. Other-Dad would know what to do. Other-Dad would be safe. Mr. Tiddles twisted around the furniture and avoided the boots.
The scream was too loud and hurt his ears. He ran for the tubes and limped to the basement. He wanted to stop now that the screaming had stopped but he knew he shouldn’t. Mr. Tiddles leg hurt so much as he found the hole to the bigger tunnel he knew would take him to Other-Dad.
It took him so long to get through the bigger tunnel. At first it had been hard. He leg wasn’t working but he had found a new rhythm of walking that didn’t hurt so badly. It was the climb up that had taken the longest. Normally he’d jump up the steps but he couldn’t now that he leg had stopped working. Mr. Tiddles limped the path Dad had taken so many times, found the right door and began to gnaw at it, scratching at it and squeaked loudly every once in a while.
The stray, a former chemist and fewer than 3 years turned, David, saw a shabby rat gnawing it’s way into Henry’s bedroom and assumed it was a feeder rat for one of the Elder Vampire’s pets. He had to shake his head and went to find and tell him.
“Hey, there’s a gerbil or something eating through your door.”
When Henry got his bedroom Mr. Tiddles gave as loud a squeak as he could and tried to climb up Other-Dad’s pants, if only his leg would work. The little rat / huge mouse had a dislocated hind leg, part of his ear was missing. Blood from where he had bit one of the bad guys still coated the fur around his muzzle and under his chin even if he was covered in dirt that smelled of the tunnel save for a spot of much darker blood near his tail that smelled of Dad and trembling uncontrollably.