#Best Front Harness for Small Dogs

[felinefractious]

I tried to adopt a cat from a rescue, I really did. I filled out and submitted applications to 5 different rescues because the local SPCAs didn't have cats that fit my needs (social with cats and dogs, approximately 1 year old, high energy, and preferably long or medium haired).

I explained in detail the care I give my current cupcake. She's spayed, gets routine vet care, is up to date on shots. She has her own room (my room) which is set up with shelves, trees, 2 litter boxes. She gets supervised free roam of the house (not 24/7 because of lifestyle reasons). I use puzzle feeders for her meals- high end brands like The Honest Kitchen, Open Farm, Stella and Chewy (I like to mix it up to keep it interesting). I play with her at least twice a day, or whenever she asks. Indoors only. She has a water fountain. We're working on harness training. I made it clear I had a second room set up similarly and ready to go, and carefully researched introductions. Dogs are cat social and kenneled unless supervised. I don't know, I feel like my cat lives a good life. She's happy, fit, and I adore her.

Couple of weeks past and I received 5 rejection emails with reasons such: I maintain a very small flock of exhibition poultry, that I do breed and sell the chicks of seasonally, which is...immoral to them, I guess; my brother who does live in the same household has intact show and working dogs; the dogs are kenneled (what??); I don't work full-time; one even said it was because I feed my current cat dry food instead of wet food. My cat straight up won't eat wet food! She hates it! I replied and said I would offer wet food if the new cat wanted it, and they never responded.

It all just seemed like weird reasons to me. Maybe not, I don't know if that's just how rescues are. I ended up with my cat through the pregnant cat distribution system (my mom owns her mom) so I didn't have to deal with takes on cat care I didn't get.

Dejected, I started looking on Craigslist and saw a cat that perfectly fit my needs- a sphynx outcross project that tested positive for mild HCM (asymptomatic for now) so the breeder who purchased him immediately neutered him. So I asked about him, located a cardiologist and scheduled an appointment with my vet ahead of time to get a referral to the cardiologist. Did lots of reading on HCM. Met with them and they were lovely. Got all his paperwork with his health testing and his whole history and genetics. I fell in love with him immediately. Everything they said about him has been true: he's confident, well-mannered, has the exact same play style as my kitty. There was not a single point during the 4 hour drive home that he showed signs of stress, he took treats and just lounged. When I set him in his room, he waltzed right out of his carrier with his chest puffed out, head held high, and rubbed all over me, purring and bumping his head into me. There hasn't been an adjustment period, he just came out and was like, "sweet, new digs! now, pet me!" Settled into a routine so fast. Has been perfect for his nails and bathing him. We're already making tremendous progress with recall.

This cat is so fucking well socialized. And his structure? Fucking gorgeous. Exactly as sphynx are described, with a deep chest, solid belly, longer hind legs than front, long creepy fingers which he uses to grip me instead of his claws and it feels like a human infant gripping me (deeply unsettling).

It's been such a good experience, and the rescues were so weird, I honestly don't know if I can ever get a cat that wasn't selectively bred again. He's not even pure bred! His dad is 100% sphynx but his mom is a dominant blue eye project from approved sphynx outcrosses.

Don't get me wrong, I love my first bastard kitty, she's the best cat there is. But now I have two perfect cats! I didn't realize that was possible...all my friends' cats, they're often much more nervous and shy. I was prepared for my second kitty to just never live up to my first.

Here he is, my weird coated mostly sphynx:

Bonus DNA results

I wonder what that person bit is about.

Unfortunately your story is not unique.

These excessive and unrealistic standards are part of what I mean when I discuss barriers to adoption as being one of the actual issues contributing to overpopulation of homeless pets.

I’ve seen people discuss being rejected due to their age despite being staffed in the veterinary field, the person was in their early 20’s.

I’ve seen people discuss being rejected due to having intact animals in the household despite them being species that aren’t traditionally altered, like reptiles.

A rescue I knew would avoid adopting out to people who indicated they would feed a brand of food the rescue considered to be lower quality, such as Friskies canned.

I’ve spoken to rescues for a veterinary reference who were disappointed the prospective adopters most recent cat wasn’t current on their vaccinations despite being an 18+ hospice case.

I could go on and on and on.

I’m glad you were finally able to find a cat to give a good forever home to, it’s clear that you’re passionate about your animals and knowledgeable about their care.

I would put too much stock in the 12% Persian, you can’t test for breeds in cats the same way as you can in dogs. Wisdom Panel is great for health and trait testing but nonsense for breeds.

You can really see the Devon in his face in the picture you used for the test, though!

[look-at-the-soul]

Trick or treat 👻

Robert Fischer x reader (blurb)

Summary: Robert meets the cutest little bad b*tch witch

“Okay what do we say when they open the door?” You looked down at the small witch holding your hand.

“Good evening, trick or treat?” Your daughter answered in a singy-song tone.

“Now go and knock on that door.” You encouraged her.

Piper, your yorkie flanquead by her side wearing a pumpkin harness with matching leash.

“Oh! Grab your cauldron.” You stammered nervous, this was her first time trick or treat in the city after moving out from your parents house and Alix had been excited since the beginning of October for this moment.

After a one night stand with the wrong person, you got the biggest blessing of your life, and your parents were over the moon with their only granddaughter, they were already considering moving closer just to see you and her more often.

As she was about to knock again you decided to try on another apartment, perhaps no one was inside.

“How can I help you?” A male voice asked from behind.

Turning around your jaw almost dropped to the ground at the man in front of you; he was wearing an immaculate blue suit wit hug a purple tie. A briefcase hanging from his hand.

“Good evening! I’m Alix… trick or treat?” Your daughter announced ceremoniously.

The man took in from her, to the tiny dog wagging her tail in excitement and then to you, ever so slowly until his blue eyes met yours.

“Sorry we don’t wanna disturb you.” You added, moving the hair back from your face.

“Not at all,” he smiled and then looking at your daughter he asked; “are you a good witch?”

“I’m a bad bitch.” Alix answered at the top of her lungs.

He laughed really loud while you shook your head embarrassed.

“Alix…”

“I want to be a bad bitch!” She repeated.

Once he stopped laughing, he wiped the corner of his eyes, he opened the door to his apartment. “Want to come inside? I think I’ve something.” But then he realized of one small detail. “I’m Robert by the way.” He extended his hand towards you.

“Y/N the bad witch’s mom… sorry about that.” You blushed.

“Don’t worry I got it,” he laughed again, your daughter entered the apartment before you had time to react. “After you.”

“Do you’ve chocolate?” Alix asked him, struggling with her hat.

“Alix.” You warned her but Robert seemed to be smitten by her.

“As a matter of fact I do.”

“What’s a matter?”

Mentally you groaned.

“It’s hmm when you’re sure.” Then he looked at your left hand, holding the yorkie up. “How’s the candy hunting going?”

“This is the first door we knock. We don’t know anyone here, still unpacking things, we live two floors up.”

“I don’t know anyone to be honest.” Robert admitted from the pantry.

“You don’t have to, really.”

“I know I’ve chocolate somewhere…” he trialed off. “So what brought you here?”

“My work I got a great offer at a firm and it was best for my daughter and me.” You pointed out empathizing it was just the two of you.

“Lawyer interesting,” he nodded. “Do you like it here Alix?”

“Yesh!” She twirled making her skirt float.

“So you could get me out of trouble then?” He opened a couple of cabinets.

“Depends of what kind of trouble you get in.”

Robert gave you a double look with a smirk.

“What?” You asked shyly suddenly.

“You sounded just like her, she gets it from her mama.” Robert replied taking off the jacket of his suit and folding the sleeves of his shirt. A moment later he shouted excited. “Here!”

Alix stormed towards the pantry before you could stop her, following her you were shocked to see it was the size of three kitchens like yours.

“Look mommy!” She emerged with a box wrapped in a fancy bow, you knew the brand, those were bloody expensive.

“We can’t accept that.”

Robert gave you a confused look while your daughter frowned.

“Of course you can.” He nodded and looked at the little witch struggling with the box. “There’s white chocolate, burnt caramel, dark truffles…”

“Robert.”

“Mommy pwweeease.”

“How can you have the heart to say no to that face?” He pushed with a huge grin.

“Fine, but you only get one.”

“Can we go now? I want more candies!”

Robert was biting his lower lip as he pondered into the idea that got in his mind.

“I don’t want to be disrespectful but I was thinking why don’t you continue the trick or treat route in the building then come back here, there’ll be a hot dinner waiting with a glass of wine if you want of course.” He offered.

Your eyes sparkled. “Do you’ve Rosé?”

“Whatever you want.” He rested one of hands on his hips, a rebel curl messed onto his forehead.

“I’ll bring tiramisu as dessert.”

“Right then, don’t let her get a sugar comma.” He winked. “See you in a bit bad witch.”

****

A/N I just had to write this really quick! 🥰🤭 make sure to look at the link 👇🏻 thank you for reading! xx

Video inspiration: bad bitch 🤭😂🤣

Master list

Blurbs

Tag list @lyarr24 @ttzamara @gretelshelby @camilahpg03 @acillianproblem @chishiyasan @allyly @fastfan @thomashelbyswife @lespendy @onlydeadcells @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @cloudofdisney @heidimoreton @esposadomd @stevie75 @raincoffeeandfandoms @elenavampire21 @mrkdvidal1989 @thenattitude @adaydreamaway08 @darleneslane @sloanexx @shaddixlife @forbidden-forest-witch @forgottenpeakywriter @shelbydelrey @ange-thoughts @babaohhhriley @kmc1989 @allie131313 @everythingelseisextra @nela-cutie

[delayed-affection]

Are you taking request ? If so, can I request one with Justin Herbert where you surprise him with a dog. Thank you 🥰

Brisket

Oneshots Navigation

Justin Herbert x reader

Warnings:

Word count: 0.8k

Justin always talked about wanting a dog but he could never bring himself to get one because of football.

So with his season sadly coming to an end due to injury, you thought it would be a great idea to not only fulfill his wants of a dog but to uplift his spirits.

And today was the day you were going to go to the shelter to see the dogs and bring one home.

Justin was going to be out all day today to help and support his team during their game against buffalo.

So when he left for the day so did you.

~

When you get to the shelter you look for a dog whose personality would best fit his. You want to find the perfect dog that will complement his lifestyle and personality.

You walk around the shelter with one of the workers and spend time with each of the dogs, getting a sense of their energy levels, behaviors, and temperaments.

You’re looking for one who is friendly, energetic, and fun-loving but also calm enough to be around the house and won't be too hyperactive for her boyfriend.

After looking around for a while, you finally finds a dog that fits what you’re looking for. It's a 4 year old rottweiler, who’s house trained.

They explain to you that he was brought in a month ago after his previous owner wasn’t able to move with him.

They let you go into his cage with him and he immediately brightens up. Even though his tail is docked you can tell that trying to wag his little nub.

You immediately feel a connection with the dog and know that it would be a perfect fit for her boyfriend. And the cherry on top is that his name is Brisket.

After spending some time with him you have come to definitive conclusion that this is the dog that would be great for Justin.

You proceed to file all the necessary papers and pay the fees in order to take Brisket home.

They help you load him into the car, giving you a leash and a collar to use for now.

~

Before going home, you stop at PetCo and bring Brisket inside with you so that he can get some toys that he likes.

As you let him sniff around and choose, you notice that he's pretty picky and likes to analyze each toy before deciding if it's worth taking home with him.

It honestly reminds you of Justin when he’s looking for equipment and woods for his smoker.

Letting him pick and chew a few things it’s time to get actual supplies and necessities for him.

You grab a harness, bed, grooming supplies, food, bowls, and make some new tags for his collar.

Before leaving you schedule a date for him to get chipped.

~

For the rest of the day you make sure that Brisket is comfortable in his new home.

As it closer to the end of the game you text Justin saying that you have a surprise for him. You know that he won’t see it until after the game because of the no phones on the sideline rule but it’s fine.

~

When Justin texts you that he’s on his way home, you can’t help but sit in anticipation for his arrival.

Hearing him pull up makes both you and Brisket perk up. You stand in the living room with him sitting next to you as you watch the front door.

Your stomach is filled with butterflies as you waits for him to come through the door. You’re eager to see his reaction to the surprise, and you feel nervous but excited about how it will all turn out.

When he walks through the door you happily shout, “Suprise!”

He tilts his head in slight confusion as he shuts the door, his eyes going from you to Brisket.

He drops his bag and walks over to you asking, “Who’s this?”

You kneel down and pet the dog, “This is Brisket, isn’t he cute?”

He lets out a little chuckle, “Cute… but whose is he?”

He puts his hand out to him to sniff and a small smile plays at his lips.

“Yours… mine… ours.” You say dropping your hands from Brisket.

He looks at you like you’ve grown two heads but in somewhat of a good way, “What? Really?”

Nodding you smile, “Yeah, really.”

Brisket nudges his hand allowing him to pet him.

Justin’s face lights up, “Well hello there Brisket.”

He squats down and uses both hands to pet Briskets face, “You got quite the name.”

You watch as they happily interact, “So, you like him?”

“Is that even a question?” He replies leaning over giving you a kiss.

[louloulemons-posts]

congratulations on 1k!!! could u do prompt 30 adopting a pet for eddie munson?? 🖤🖤

thank you for the request 🫶🏻

1k celebration prompts list

30 : ‘adopting a pet together’

W/Eddie Munson

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

you and eddie had been living together for a while now, you apartment had become home very quickly for the both of you.

everyday life together was something you easy jumped into, not having any bumps in the road - it just worked.

but sometimes it got lonely, you’d be out at work and eddie would be alone, or vice versa. and then there were times where you’d lay together and thing - wouldn’t it be great to have a dog lay with us too.

so you had decided on it, to go to the shelter, it was christmas time and you knew a lot of dogs needed a home, especially now.

walking hand in hand to the shelter, you smiled up at eddie as he opened the door for you, letting you duck under his arm.

“hi, how can i help you?” a woman smiled from behind the counter.

you returned the greeting with a smile, “we were hoping to have a look at your dogs.”

“you’re planning to adopt?”

“mhm, we are,” eddie nodded.

“great, have you got any ideas in mind. age, temperament, breed?”

“we were wondering if we can see the dogs you’ve had here the longest?” you said.

a grin broke into the woman’s face, “that’s very kind of you, i know who to take you too.”

leading you through a door you saw a few rows of kennels, yapping and barking coming from inside.

you and eddie chuckled seeing a small boy and his parents playing with a young labrador pup.

“she’s just down here.”

“how longs she been here?” eddie asked.

“around four months, we’re actually getting to the point where a staff member will have to take her or, the other option.”

you frowned, “poor baby.”

“is there a reason people won’t take her?” eddie asked.

“well, yes. it’s the way she looks more than anything. speaking on which, this is echo.”

looking in the kennel your heart melted, there sat a golden brown pit bull. a long scar of an old gash across her nose.

the woman nodded towards her, “people see that and think she must be vicious. we rescued her from some not very nice people.”

you nodded, and eddie spoke up, “could we meet her?”

“of course.” the kennel was unlocked and you and eddie went inside, being quiet not to startled her.

“hi pretty girl,” you cooed, offering your hand for her to sniff. she did so, tail wagging like a helicopter, eddie followed your actions, the pup had a smile like expression.

the pair of you sat down near the dog, allowing her to come over to you. she did so with ease.

“how old is she?” you asked, giving echo a fuss.

“we’ve estimated around 3 years old, she’s neutered and has had all her vaccines. she’s probably not the best for a home with another dog, just because of past experience

“she struggles being cooped up with them for long periods of time - she’s okay outdoors, it’s just when she feels trapped.”

“that’s okay, she’d been our first dog,” eddie said.

you smiled, echo basically climbing into your lap, head resting on your shoulder, having a good sniff at eddie.

“oh eds,” you said, wrapping your arms around her.

“she’s perfect right?”

“she really is.”

“would it be possible for us to adopt her?” eddie asked, the woman couldn’t stop beaming.

“of course, we have a lead and harness for you to take for her. leaflets for care at the front, i’ll need you to fill out some paperwork.”

you nodded egarly, the lady called over another member of staff, “could you please get echo ready to go home?”

the smile they gave each other was contagious, “of course i can, i’m so glad someone’s finally giving her a chance. come on sweet girl let’s get you ready.”

echo let out a sweet bark, allowing you and eddie to get up, whining slightly when you exited her kennel.

“we’ll see you soon sweetheart,” eddie comforted, giving her a pat on the head.

“if you follow me back to the desk,” the woman said, leading the way back through the kennels.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

the paperwork had been filled out and you’d grabbed so many leaflets so you could head to the store.

now you were just waiting for your girl, and with a small bark you knew she was on her way.

her tail was wagging like crazy her body was in a deep purple harness with matching lead.

you’d learned she was well trained too, didn’t bite, chew things she shouldn’t, potty trained, knew basic commands.

with a pull and bark she ran towards you, “hi pretty girl,” you smiled, kissing her snout, “you ready to go home?”

she was so excited , her whole body wiggling happily.

“i think that’s a yes babe,” eddie laughed.

“well let’s get our girl home.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

and that’s how your evenings went, lay in between eddies legs on the sofa, echo’s head lay on your stomach.

your hand lazily rubbing her back, eddie doing the same, your other hands linking.

this was the life.

[grafeas-of-tartaros]

Nightly Ritual

Pairing: Sir Crocodile x Gn!PuppySub!Reader

Genre: Romantic Fluff

Rating: T

Summary: A short and sweet one shot about the bedtime routine of Sir Crocodile and his partner.

Content Includes: pet play, power exchange, use of dog related pet names, Pet/Master dynamic etc

A blanket of soft warmth surrounded and cradled your body. The fuzzy fabric of the blanket and the circular doggy-bed below you cocooning you comfortably. Shifting from your curled up position, you blink the sleep from your eyes. The stretching of your stiff limbs causes a few pops to come from your joints. A loud yawn shudders through your body to fight off the last of the grogginess. Now mostly awake, you take a look around the fancy, well furnished office of Sir Crocodile.

The lights were low, the large room only illuminated by the sconces hanging from tall, cream-colored walls. Long shadows forming around the areas that the light can't quite reach. Gold accents in the furniture glimmering faintly like tiny stars scattered across the room. With so much of the extravagant room hidden in darkness, it has a more cozy, homely feeling to it. That comfortable energy causes a need for affection to squeeze in your chest. Raising and turning your head to look around for the usual source of affection. Big, fluffy ears that sat atop of the hairband on your head bounce from the quick movements.

Just a few feet away from where you're laying in your doggy-bed is the dark wood siding of Crocodile’s desk. Tall and broad just like the man that sat behind it in a large armchair. Practically folding himself in half against the desk as he snappily fills out a pile of paperwork. Thick, dark smoke pours from his cigar and obscures his already shadowy features. The rich scent drifts through the room and tickles your twitching nose. Heavy blankets slipping from your shoulders pooling at your waist as you move to step out of your comfortable bed. Coarse office carpeting a far cry from the silky material that makes up your napping spot. But you shake off the uncomfortable shock to take a few steps out of your little sanctuary.

Each soft step of yours paired with a swish of fur from behind. The high-quality fur that makes up a tail brushing up against the back of your thighs. A well-fitting harness making certain that it doesn't slip off or rub in any uncomfortable places when you move. Soft yet sturdy knee pads keep the scratchy carpet beneath you from marking or burning the sensitive flesh located there. Paired with specialized gloves that nullify any pain or awkward pressure from walking on your hands.

In just a few sleepy steps you find yourself sitting beside the tall chair that Crocodile sits in. Hands in front of you flat on the carpet, legs folded beneath you and butt resting on the back of your heels. Patiently waiting for Sir to feel the longing, needy stare you're shooting up at him. Impatient as all puppies are, you quickly get bored of waiting for him to make the first move. Letting out a small ‘yip’ to hopefully pull his attention away from his work. The clever plan works and Crocodile sits up from the hunched position he was in a few moments ago. Lavender eyes looking around before finally landing on your sitting figure on the floor. Chuckling when he sees your pleading eyes and panting mouth looking back at him.

“Finally awake from your nap I see, pup.” Crocodile rumbles, a stream of smoke chasing after his words.

“Woof!” You feel your tail wag back and forth excitedly when Crocodile's eyes finally reach you. Sitting up to gently nudge your head against his calf. A sign that you're asking for a head pat (or maybe even a scratch behind the ear). Looking back up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. Bottom lip stuck out in a dramatic pour. Hoping that the cutesy act would be enough to convince him to pause working on the seemingly endless pile of paperwork.

“I know what you're asking for, pup. but I can't do that right now. I need to finish signing these papers so they can be looked over tomorrow.” An apologetic look disappears as quickly as it appeared across Crocodile's face. Bringing his hook down to carefully pat your head with the side of it. While nice, it wasn't exactly what you were looking for. Practically nothing when compared to the affection the now busy man is usually capable of. Bumping your head against it to gain a bit more satisfying friction.

“Harrumph.” Your next bark comes out closer to a huff. Exhaling sharply in annoyance from how ignored you feel. Nudging against his wrist with your nose, careful around the sensitive area attached to his prosthetic. Bumping it so the heavy, base rests against the top of your head between the ears on your headband. Quiet whines catch in your throat to try and pull at the silently working man's heart strings.

“I said I can't cuddle with you right now, treasure. How about you go play with your favorite squeaky toy for a bit and I'll spend some time with you when I'm done.” Crocodile gives you a sympathetic smile before turning back to his paperwork. Leaving you to grumpily make your way back to the comfortable corner that houses your bed.

Beside the bed was a small, wicker basket overflowing with a variety of toys. Keeling in front of it you bury your face within the heap of toys in search of your favorite. Eventually lifting back up with the toy you were searching for clenched in your jaws.Giving it a few test squeezes to make sure the squeaker box is intact. Being met with a loud,happy squeak from the worn-down toy. Carrying it along and flopping down back into the soft embrace of your doggy-bed. Curled up in a little ball with your head resting against your arms. The toy sat in front of you, you alternated between chewing on and shaking it in your jaws.Yipping and growling playfully when met with resistance from the squishy, squeaking toy.

Dropping further into your puppy headspace, time seems to go by in an instant. Attention only pulled away from your toy when a quiet groan reaches your ears. The sound emanating from Crocodile as he stretches from sitting in the same position for so long. Looking up from it to peer over at the man. Watching as he stood up from his chair, the wood of the seat squeaked softly. Quiet footsteps thumping from behind the desk and slowly got closer to you. Ringing out in the quiet office until he stood in front of your curled up form.

“Up.”

He said, voice hoarse and low from the silence he had been sitting in. Waving his hand to beckon you to his side. No cigar clenched between his teeth, but the rich scent of the smoke still clings to his clothes. Bringing a familiar, comforting feeling over your senses and into your lungs. Drawing you closer to him, kneeling by his side. Wagging your tail and waiting for what his next command will be.

“Good pup, now follow.”

You happily trot along beside Crocodile, looking up at him as you walk. Speeding up your motions whenever his stride outpaces yours. Sometimes playfully nudging against his leg, causing him to smile down at you. Besides your footsteps however, the hall was quiet and nearly dark. The lights low flickering, mimicking the flames of torches. Creating a small path of visibility that ended at the tall doorway that leads to Crocodile's bedroom. Patiently sitting beside the door, watching the man's movements closely. His hand reaching out and pushing the door open with a low creaking from the wood.

“In.”

*Crocodile snapped his fingers and pointed into the bedroom. Prompting you to enter the room before he did. Nodding, you happily scamper into the large lavishly decorated bedroom. Spinning about in a circle as you try to relax yourself before you become too worked up. Panting and smiling broadly, looking around for Crocodile. He had quickly made his way into the bedroom after you. Now standing beside an ornate, wooden dresser. Waiting patiently with his arms folded over his chest. One of his eyebrows raised curiously, A silent command to assist him in undressing and getting into more comfortable clothes.

Crawling towards him, you kneel in front of him on your knees. Carefully unlacing his shoes before slipping them off of his feet. Then working upwards, you take off his belt, then his pants and his boxers. Unbuttoning his shirt, running your hands up and down his chest. Admiring his physique, fingers running over his pale, brown-gray skin. Tracing the scars that run beneath his pecs and meet in the middle of his chest. He looks down at you with a loving expression. Lifting one of your hands to place a kiss against your knuckles.

Though it seemed nearly impossible, you eventually pulled away from him. Digging through the dresser for a comfortable pair of sleep pants. Watching as he steps into the legs, helping pull them up for him. Finally, you carefully take his left arm in your hand. Rubbing at the sensitive edges and scarred flesh. Lovingly detaching the prosthetic, and setting it carefully off to the side. Mirroring his movements by bringing the stump up to your lips. Peppering, careful, soft kisses on the stitched and scarred skin. The sensation caused him to crack a small smile. Playfully rubbing your head with his hand, skin warm yet rough. Thoroughly relaxed, Crocodile moves to lay on the bed.

Nearly crawling out of your skin at this point, you quickly shuck your puppy garments off. Only just barely remembering to place them on the dresser so you will have them tomorrow. Almost bouncing as you skip over to the bed, watching as Crocodile lays back against the pillows. The man reaches his arms out to pull you close to his chest. His body relaxing and melting against the silky bed sheets. His face is nuzzling the side of your head. Breathing in your familiar and comforting scent. His deep-set, lavender eyes shut, almost drifting off. Not wanting to leave you hanging, he takes a deep breath to wake himself up.

“Mmm thank you, for all of this.”

His voice mumbles against your skin, feeling the rumble deep in your skin.

“All of what, Sir?” you hum curiously

“Taking care of me, helping me, keeping me company. You did so well for me today, pup; just like you do every day.” Crocodile places a chaste kiss against your forehead. Pulling you closer to his chest, letting your leg fall across his lap.

“I could say the same thing about you.” Those words pull a chuckle out of the stoic man. The sound shaking your body, so close to his.

Thank you so much to everyone that read this fic, especially those that read all the way through. This is the first fic I have written and posted in about a year so I am a bit rusty.

But if you like it and want to see more content like it then feel free to follow. You can also put suggestions in my ask box if there's something specific you want to see. Or wait until I have enough energy to work on my WIPs folder lol.

Reblogs and comments are appreciated but not required!

[bellysoupset]

"I just think he could've given us a heads up, like-"

"Three months advance as if he's your fucking employee?" Vince snapped without thinking, causing Lucas' to shut up, his mouth hanging open.

"I-... What? That's not what I-"

"Leave Jon the fuck alone, Luke. You always knew he would drop out, I mean the guy is med school," Vince grumbled, rubbing his temples. He was in a shitty mood and Lucas' non-stop ranting for the past forty minutes was not helping in the least.

"I know..." Lucas' voice had considerably dropped, "I just don't think it's fair-"

"Drop it, porcamiseria," Vince groaned, "you're like a dog with a bone, just fucking drop it!" he looked at his best friend just in time to see Lucas blink owlishly at him, shocked and hurt.

"Dropping it..." He mumbled, brows furrowed, green eyes with a weird glint on them that made Vince want to apologize. He hated fighting, he was not a very combative person, but Lucas sure knew how to be relentless when he wanted to complain.

There was a beat of tense silence, a staring contest, one that Vince broke by looking away and staring back at his laptop. He was trying to finish his essay before the next class, trying being the keyword- Suddenly there was a loud growl, his belly rumbling and gnawing at itself.

"Was that your stomach...?" Lucas whispered, sounding surprised, but also unsure if they were on speaking terms again. Vince shrugged.

"I skipped lunch to work on this stupid essay."

"Oh... No wonder you're acting like-"

"Like?" He raised an eyebrow and Lucas' mouth snapped shut. He opened a little smirk.

"Like such a bitch."

"Fuck you, Luke," Vince scoffed, shoving him and not lightly, because Lucas managed to tip and fall from his chair. Across the study hall, the librarian glared at them.

Lucas rolled his eyes, straightening his chair and sitting back down, "I'm gonna order us lunch."

"Didn't you already eat?" Vince pointed out, but it was half hearted. Lunch did sound amazing, especially if he wasn't going to be the one paying for it.

"I could eat again, my lunch was small."

"Yeah, alright - Remember, no milk," Vince sighed, turning once more to his laptop.

"I know," Lucas retorted, sounding offended.

One hour later and Vince resumed his essay just in time, the noise of Lucas scrapping the bottom of his container the only other noise in the study hall. Right on time for the last class of the day.

Ethics.

"I'm surprised you finished your essay before me," Vince pointed out, getting up and grabbing his laptop bag, Lucas walking side by side with him.

"Bella has three exams back to back this week, so she's not in the apartment because she said I am distracting," Lucas scoffed and Vince couldn't help but smile. That explained why Lucas was being particularly mean that week.

"Distracting is a nice way to call you extremely annoying."

"Hardy fucking har," his friend glared at him and they reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to the fourth floor.

Vince eyed them uneasily. The shrimp pasta they had just shared was sitting like a ball of concrete in his gut, "where's the elevator...?"

"Please," Lucas scoffed, poking his side, "get moving, we'll be late."

"Elevator-"

"Move!" His friend chuckled, planting a hand in the middle of his back and shoving him forward, like a horse that gotten stuck, and Vince couldn't do anything but move.

It was a bad idea.

By the time they reached the fourth floor, Vince couldn't help but regret eating. It hadn't been a huge portion, nothing that would normally bother him, but it felt like too much.

He pressed a fist to his lips, muffling a burp and Lucas thumped his back, walking past him, "c'mon, we'll be late."

Ethics was a shared class with many majors, so the room was packed. Vince pushed through the philosophy kids up at front, sitting down next to Luke and groaning, "you did order with soy milk, didn't you?"

Lucas' made a concerned face, "yeah, why?"

"Uhm," Vince sighed, not bothering to elaborate. He was sure that his friend could tell about the bellyache that was starting to plague him, there was no need for him to go on details. He planted an elbow on the desk and rested his forehead on his hand, the other one surreptitiously coming to rest on his stomach, shame be damned.

From the corner of his eye he could see Lucas watching him fiercely.

"Good evening everyone," the teacher walked in the room and the lights were dimmed as he started the projector. Vince winced, the dull bellyache quickly transforming into a throbbing pain.

It didn't feel like he had just eaten too much, not at all. A cramp squeezed through his stomach as if it was on fire and he muffled another belch, letting it out slowly.

His gut let out a gurgle, a string of bubbles and his cheeks burned as the girl who was sitting to his left raised her eyebrows. Lucas had heard it too, because he moved on his seat, hitting Vince's knee with his own.

"Dude?"

"Are you sure about the pasta?" Vince groaned, sweat start to cling to his upper lip. His belly squeezed again, another cramp making him twitch on his seat, while the teacher continued to go on and on.

"Yeah, of course-" Lucas fished out his phone, going through the app, "here, look."

The screen brightness felt like too much and Vince wiped a hand anxiously down his face, squinting at the phone. Indeed the box "lactose free" was ticked in one of Lucas' order. Except the pasta ticked was "penne".

"Luke," Vince all but whined, digging his fingers into his belly. He felt a gurgle move right under his hand, move south no less. He breathed in deeply, "I had the linguini. You had the penne."

"You're joking," Lucas' scoffed, pulling his hand back to look at the phone, but then immediately his face got clouded by guilt, "aw, Vin-"

"Yeah," Vince swallowed in another burp, this one tasting a horrid lot like the offending creamy pasta, "Yeah, I need to go home."

"I'll take you," Lucas offered quickly, not waiting for a response and already jumping up, grabbing his and Vince's bag. Vince squeezed his eyes shut as another cramp hit him and remained sat, his belly let out another gross string of noises.

It felt like lava was flooding his gut, in all directions.

"Vin, c'mon," Lucas grabbed his arm, ushering him up, "c'mon."

"I should kill you," Vince groaned, turning his head as Luke carefully maneuvered them between the rows of desks and towards the backdoor of the lecture classroom. He had never been so glad that college didn't require hall passes in his life.

"I know, I know," Lucas sighed, still pushing him, "can you-"

He was interrupted by Vince's stomach growling loudly and his friend pitching forward, a hand pressed to his lips as he fought a gag. Lucas let out a yelp, "yeah, I don't think you can make it."

"It hurts," Vince groaned, both hands planted on his knees, bent in half in the middle of the hallway, "it fucking hurts, Luke."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Lucas whispered, sounding more and more frantic, "lean on me, alright...?"

"Been here before," Vince mumbled, muffling a burp against Lucas' and allowing him to hold most his weight. It wasn't that Vince couldn't handle himself, but it sure was hitting him like a truck, all of it. The nausea was making him feel sluggish and the cramps made his eyes water, "you know, last time you fucking poisoned me."

"I'm sorry," Lucas whined, any humor wasted on him, seeing how guilty he was feeling.

They managed to make it all the way out of the building, but not out of campus, before a familiar voice interrupted their path, "Vince?"

"Kill me," Vince whispered, "Lucas kill me now."

"Vin?" Wendy repeated, telling her friends to go ahead without her and then approaching the two men, "Lucas? What the- What's wrong?"

"Hi beautiful," He forced a smile through the humiliation and growing queasiness, "do you come here often?"

Lucas let out a snort, while Wendy glared at him, unimpressed. She looked up to his friend, seeing as Vince clearly wasn't planning to answer her, "Well?"

"He just ate something bad, I'm taking him home," Lucas said all smooth, while Vince rolled his eyes.

"He poisoned me, Wen," he groaned, digging a hand on his stomach and regretting it immediately when the pressure made the mess in his belly move up, "you might wanna step out of the way."

"What did he eat?" Wendy completely ignored him, instead moving forward, so she could wrap her arm around his back and help Lucas support him. Vince bit down a groan, he could stand on his own, there was no need for the double combo of humiliation.

"Shrimp pasta," Lucas sufficed, cause Vince to let out a moan.

"Can we talk and move?"

"He's allergic to shrimp?" Wendy asked over his head, while they continued to move towards the parking lot.

"No- You didn't tell her?!" Lucas scoffed, poking his shoulder and Vince groaned once more, burping wetly. It brought up a couple chunks and he swallowed them back down valiantly.

"I'm gon'be sick," he slurred, the entire conversation be damned.

"Tell me what?"

Vince's legs stopped moving and he nearly caused both Lucas and Wen to fall as he stopped suddenly. He felt lightheaded with the cramping and his heart was thumping in his chest. He gagged and this time the overwhelming sweet taste took him out. With one loud heave, he painted the patch of sidewalk with chunky salmon colored vomit.

Wendy scrambled back to avoid her sneakers getting covered in puke, since considering since she was shorter than Lucas, Vince was leaning considerably in her direction.

"I got you, I got you-" Lucas mumbled, pulling him closer to his side, while Wendy moved forward once more, rubbing a hand up and down his spine. Vince shuddered, trying to focus on the soothing movement and not in the churning inside his gut. He burped again, squeezing his stomach.

"Hurts," he groaned, feeling sweat run down his back, "it's cramping like hell."

"We have to get you in a bathroom," Wendy wasn't talking to him, as much as she was talking to Lucas, "help me."

Vince was glad for their proactiveness, because he didn't feel like he could think or move through the cramping and churning. He was lightheaded and still gagging, the taste of milk was overwhelming now that he was aware it was in the recipe.

His stomach gurgled, loudly, and Vince tried to stop once more, the queasiness threatening to send up yet another stream of vomit, but Lucas and Wendy kept pushing him.

"Guys, stop, stop," Vince mumbled. He wanted to sit down, he felt really fucking dizzy, "I can't-"

"I'm sorry, honey, but you'll be grateful later," Wendy told him and then they burst into the humanities building's first floor bathroom. It wasn't empty, one guy who was pissing let out a shout as he clocked in Wendy with the other two, but no one paid him any mind.

Vince let out a groan, "yeah, okay- You have to get out."

"What?" Wendy scoffed, looking at him, then Lucas, then back at him, "no way-"

"Cazzo, Wendy, out!" Vince snapped, fighting the urge to shit all over his pants. He muffled another gag, "you too Lucas, give me some fucking privacy-"

"Since when do you care-"

"OUT!"

In a frankly hilarious display, both Lucas and Wendy pouted and turned around at the same time, barging outside of the bathroom. Vince squeezed the sink to keep himself up, knuckles white with the amount of pain he was in.

He barely managed to undo his jeans on time, slamming the stall door behind him.

Sitting down, braced against his stomach as his bowels seized and emptied out, he gagged again. His head felt horribly heavy and he prayed he wouldn't just collapse, ass up. Death would be better.

Once his gut was finally done emptying out, Vince was shaking, covered in cold sweat. The cramps hadn't eased up one bit despite the runs and the nausea sure as hell was still just as present. He took a pathetic amount of time to clean and pull himself up.

It still felt like he was going to puke, but even though he spent good five more minutes bent over the sink, bringing up disgusting burps, nothing else came up. It just seemed to be all sitting in his throat, queasiness making him dizzy.

He stumbled out of the bathroom, only to find his girlfriend standing directly across the door, leaning on the wall, Lucas sitting on the ground next to her and scrolling through his phone, his head resting on her knee.

"Aw, you're cute," Vince forced a smile, even though he felt faint and a little close to tears. He hated his lactose intolerance, being sick with it was always worse than any other illness. Puking and shitting he could take, but the cramps? They messed with him.

"Hey," Lucas smiled back, "how are you?"

"I'm fine," He waved him away, while Wendy's eyes sparkled with suspicion and annoyance, "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

He wasn't sure if she was pissed at him or not and Vince wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone's emotions but his own. He didn't wait for Wendy to take his apology, instead looking at Lucas, knowing his best friend would at least get him immediately, "you're still gonna give me a ride?"

"Yeah, of course, are you good to walk?"

"Yes," Vince said, although he wasn't quite sure, with how fuzzy his head was feeling. He just really wanted to be in his own bed, with his own bathroom. Preferably without his girlfriend looking at him like he had killed her dog.

"If you're fine then I have to go, I have a lecture," Wendy said, voice razor sharp. She crossed the path between them, got on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek that might as well have been a slap and then barged away.

Lucas raised his eyebrows, "honeymoon phase over?"

"Guess so," Vince swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling even sicker, "can we go?"

"You really should've told her you're lactose intolerant, Vin," Lucas said, tagging along, his hands all but hovering, ready to catch him, "I bet you she just feels left out."

"You mean jealous," Vince corrected, breathing in deeply as they made their way out of the building. He shuddered once more as yet another set of cramps wrecked through him, "I feel like shit."

"I am-"

"Sorry, I know," Vin rubbed a hand over his face and sighed in relief as he finally caught sight of Lucas' car, "just drive me home and I'll call it even."

"You're a softy," Lucas scoffed, sounding even more guilty than before, and then unlocked the car, "do you need-"

"Luke," Vince slammed the door shut, squirming to get comfortable, "stop talking, my head hurts."

"Christ," Lucas mumbled under his breath, but he said nothing else, for which Vince was thankful. It was taking all of his energy to keep swallowing the saliva that kept pooling in his mouth.

He undid his jeans buttons, shamelessly, and then sneaked a hand under his long sleeved shirt. His gut was still gurgling and so bloated that unbuttoning his jeans had offered little to no relief.

He burped against, pressing his forehead to the window and letting out a moan. His stomach was churning once more, milk sloshing inside of him, or at least it felt like it.

"Vince," Lucas called, his voice sounding far away.

He lowered the window despite it being the end of the year and already pretty chilly. The cold wind helped with the nausea, but just for a second.

Another small, wet burp, turned frothy at the end. Vince groaned out loud and braced against the window, hanging his head out. Behind him he heard Lucas' curse and then a hand tugging at his shirt-

The collar of the shirt, thanks to Luke pulling on it, hit his throat just as he gagged and it was enough to finish him off. With another burp the remaining of his lunch rushed up and out of his mouth, covering the outside of the door.

It was gross, fucking disgusting, Vince thought, gagging again and bringing up a watery stream of vomit. He panted, letting out a choked out sob and resting his forehead to the inside of the door.

"We're almost there, just breathe..." Lucas was cooing and Vince let out a huff, trying to get himself in check because his best friend sounded downright panicked. Suddenly he wished it was Wendy, not Lucas with him.

"I'm fine."

"Yeah, you're fine," Luke repeated, rubbing his arm, "you done?"

"Think so," Vince curled up against himself, hugging his belly. It was still gurgling nonstop, so he doubted he was actually done. Still, he felt empty. Empty and wrung out.

Lucas parked outside of his building and it took Vince a second to realize he was finally home. Or as home as the dorms could be, he thought bitterly.

"Don't try to-"

"I'm fine," Vince repeated, opening the door and ignoring Lucas' request for him to stay put. He regretted it, the second he was standing, he realized he wasn't gonna be standing for very long. His lower belly cramped, empty and sore, and his head felt heavy.

"Wowow, hey," Lucas caught him by the arm, "alright?"

"Aw fuck," Vince groaned instead of answering him, glaring at the passenger door now closed in front of him, "your car..."

"It's fine, I don't give a shit," his friend held him a little more tightly, "I'm gonna help you inside."

"I'm alright, you don't have to," Vince shoved his shoulder weakly, "really man, I'm an adult and this is just some bad food-"

"Vince," Lucas glared at him, "I'm helping you inside." No room for argument.

"You're the mother of all mother hens," Vin grumbled, pressing his clammy hand to his belly. It churned uneasily, his intestines planning another painful riot, "get moving then-" he burped queasily, "faster."

[the-hinky-panda]

The Dog: Part IV

Author’s Note: So if you guys follow @bullet-prooflove​, you know that The Dog and The North Star take place in the same fic universe. The vet in this story does have a name (Meredith) but I will continue to write her as a reader by using you/your and have Mike refer to her by using nicknames only. All this to say I’m not sure how to label this now since she has a name but it won’t be used in this fic.

Another note, I do use physical descriptions in this chapter (freckles and red hair) but I do it for a bigger purpose. Yes, no descriptions are more inclusive, however I wanted to make a point that she is self-conscious of her looks because don't we all have something that we don't like about ourselves? Don't we all have something that we want to change? And how wonderful is it when we surround ourselves with the right people that love us and all our imperfections? So please forgive the physical descriptions in this chapter as they were only done to deliver an important message: love your freckles!

You stand in front of the mirror and inspect your face. Your fingers trail over the splashes of freckles across your round cheeks, your face framed by your red hair. You’re not beautiful. At least, not by social media standards. No one is going to stop you on the street and want to take your picture, make a model out of you. You’re not destined for Instagram fame. It makes you wonder what Mike sees in you, what prompted him to ask you out to dinner at a local brewery. Mike, with his roguish good looks and witty sense of humor; warm brown eyes and easy smile. And dear lord, those adorable dimples. 

You dig out a tube of concealer, specific for freckles and other skin blemishes. Your ex, Kevin, had found it for you. He hadn’t been a fan of your freckles and often urged you to cover them up as best you could. You always kept a tube of the makeup on hand in case he wanted you to join him at a pharmaceutical rep party or just go out for drinks with some of his friends. Holding that small tube in your hand, you wonder if you’re really ready to try out another relationship with someone new. All the masks that need to be worn and maintained, you just didn’t know if you had it in you. 

So, why try? 

If Mike is going to like you, it’s going to be for you. You drop the make up back into the drawer and continue with your normal, basic routine. Simple make-up, a loose twist to keep your hair back from your face, and small gold hoop earrings. Shasta watches you curiously, her head cocked to the side, not exactly sure what this new routine is. It’s pretty sad when the dog is wondering why you’re dressing up. You pat her head as you leave the bathroom. 

“You’re coming with me, don’t worry.” 

Shasta follows you into the bedroom where the second struggle of evening occurs: what to wear? Your wardrobe consists mostly of scrubs. It’s been about six years now since your divorce and you’ve never really gotten back onto the dating scene and your clothes show that. You’re able to find a green blouse to go with your jeans and flats. You grab a navy blue cardigan since you’ll be sitting outside at the brewhouse. You give yourself one last look in the mirror, releasing a long sigh to try to dispel some of the butterflies that have taken up residence in your stomach. 

You had forgotten this part of life. This nervous thrill that makes you feel nauseous but you can’t wait to see what the evening is going to bring. It’s a knife’s edge balancing act of being yourself but just the likable pieces. Honest, authentic but keeping the odd and messy parts of yourself still hidden from view. You pick up Shasta’s harness, try to get the dog to stand still and it takes three attempts to wrestle the harness on her body. It doesn’t help that her short tail is wagging so excitedly, you struggle snapping the enclosures. You stand up, grab your keys, and look at the dancing dog in front of you. 

“If Mike doesn’t like me, it’s your fault,” you joke. “Maybe Bono can teach you some manners, you wild red dog.” 

You get Shasta secured in the backseat of the Subaru and make the ten minute drive over to Mike’s place. Any nervousness that you may have felt while getting ready completely dissipates when you see him, sitting on his front porch, Bono sitting next to him. He’s dressed up his regular henley with a plaid button shirt and has his suede jacket thrown over his arm. You’re struck once again with what a handsome man he is with his confident gait, wavy dark hair, and warm brown eyes. Maybe you should have worn the concealer this evening and you silently chide yourself as he gets Bono situated in the backseat next to Shasta before sliding into the passenger seat of your car. 

“You look nice.” 

You turn your head to hide the nervous, pleased smile that erupts on your face. “Thanks. You look nice too. Have you ever been to the Bronx Alehouse before?” 

He shrugs halfheartedly. “Once or twice.” He glances behind him at Bono. “Guess I better get better acquainted with it.” 

“You know that Bono can go into any restaurant you want. You don’t have to go to dog friendly ones only.” 

“I certainly don’t want to leave Shasta out of the good times though.” 

“That’s very kind of you. Shasta appreciates it.”  You glance to the side and catch his smile that’s just large enough to cause that dimple to appear in his cheek. If it were even possible, you fall more in love with the man. You park a couple blocks away from the restaurant to give the dogs a chance to walk off some of their energy. Well, for Shasta to walk off her energy. Bono trots right at Mike’s side, the perfect gentleman. 

They seat you outside on the sidewalk patio where they provide water bowls next to the table for the dogs and your waitress slips both dogs a small treat when she takes your drink orders. You chat about what has transpired in the last week of your lives, what has happened since that beautiful day spent at Orchard Beach. Your update is short and sweet: working overtime at the clinic. Although the finding of a litter of fox pups did make for an interesting day a couple days ago. His update is more interesting. 

“My sister from Maryland came up for a few days.” 

You know from the texts and calls that have been going back and forth between you two that he has three sisters along the East Coast. “She’s the teacher, right?” 

“Right,” he picks up his beer and takes a sip. “So she cleaned the house, stocked my pantry, and fussed over me for three days before heading back to Baltimore. Then I paid a visit to the training center where Bono came from, learned a bit more about what goes into training a service dog and what they’re capable of doing. There were some dogs there that were being trained to sniff out cancer in people.” 

“I’ve heard of that but haven’t seen any dogs in action yet. Dogs are incredible animals, extremely adaptable to a variety of situations and environments. They’re loyal, loving, dedicated. It makes me wonder what we humans did to deserve them.” 

He laughs but there’s very little humor behind it. “Certainly nothing that we’re currently doing. The world’s a mess.” 

You get it. You understand his bleak world view at the moment. Colin had it too after his accident. But Mike’s nihilistic vision comes from years of seeing the worst of humanity while on the police force. The last five years he’s spent chasing down Oscar Papa certainly hasn’t shown him the best of humanity either. “Maybe that’s why we have them. As reminders that we can be good enough people to deserve the love of our dogs.” 

“How do you do that?” The bitter edge of his perception dissipates and there’s genuine curiosity behind his words. “How do you stay so positive after all the horrible shit you see too? The animal abuse? Abandonment?” 

You shrug. “I guess I take peace in the thought that I’m not one of those people. I care for the animals, treat them, heal them, rehome them. I can’t stop people from being jerks and assholes, but I certainly can help fix what they’ve broken. You can’t make the world a better place without someone out there trashing it.” 

The warmth comes back to his smile and his eyes. “That’s a commendable attitude then.” 

“Thank you,” you raise your beer glass in his direction before taking a sip. He starts to say something else when your name is shouted across the patio and your blood runs cold. You can’t believe he would be here, in the Bronx, at this restaurant, at this exact time. But you hear your name again and when you turn, your eyes are immediately drawn to the extremely well-dressed blonde man who is waving at you. 

“Who’s that?” Mike asks, a sense of wariness creeping into his tone. 

“My ex-husband, Kevin.”  You hope against all hope that he and his bubbly little girlfriend go back inside the restaurant but that is not your luck. The two of them, arms draped over each other in their high-end clubbing gear, make their unsteady way over to your table. 

“Hey, babe.” 

You twist the corner of the napkin in your lap. “Not your babe, Kevin.” 

His blue eyes land on Mike. “Yeah,  I can see that. Kevin Bradford.” , the ex. This is Wendy.” 

“Mindi,” she corrects with a high-pitched giggle.

Mike reluctantly shakes his hand. “Captain Duarte.” 

Mindi emits a small squeal of surprise. “You’re that police guy who got hacked up by-“ 

“Yes, I am,” Mike cuts her off. 

Kevin grabs two chairs from another table and pulls them up to your table. “That’s fucking rad, man.” 

“Kevin!” You feel the tips of your ears heat up with a flash of anger. 

“What?” He shrugs. “How many dudes can say they went a few rounds with machetes and lived to tell about it? Like, that is fucking badass, legendary.”  Kevin lightly smacks Mike’s arm. “Bet it gets you a lot of action from the ladies, am I right?” 

Mike gives Kevin a sharp smile. “Not quite.” 

“Oh,” Kevin shrugs.  “Guess you haven’t gotten your strength back yet. In that case,” he points to you, “she’s a good one to break you back into the game. Doesn’t ask for much but puts out-“ 

Abject humiliation overtakes you to the point that you’re practically strangling the napkin that is still in your lap. Mike’s eyes flash and he starts to say something when Mindi interrupts  him. 

“Awww,” she coos and reaches towards Bono. “What a cute doggie!” 

“Please don’t touch my dog.” Despite the directness of the command, Mike does soften his tone with the young woman and she immediately withdraws her hand. 

“Sorry. Is he a service dog or something?” 

“He is,” Mike answers.  “I forgot his vest tonight. It’s okay.” 

You’re once again impressed with how easily Mike can read a situation, measure people up, and respond to them. He’s like a social swiss army knife. You do take pity on the poor girl and scoot your chair out slightly. “You can pet my dog if you want. Her name is Shasta.” 

The woman’s face lights up as she gives Shasta a vigorous rub on her back. “What a good girl, Shasty. I’m Mindi.” 

“Hey, hey,” Kevin leans over  and bumps her shoulder with his. “Save some of that hand energy for later, babe.” 

You roll your eyes and look over apologetically at Mike. He responds with a “what the hell were you thinking” look but where there should have been judgment in his eyes, there was a soft mirth. Some of your humiliation fades. The sun has set enough that the lights on the patio turn on and brighten the outside area significantly. Kevin looks over at you and motions to your face. 

“You run out that concealer? I can get you more if you want.” He motions towards Mike and lowers his voice. “You know, since you’re trying to impress someone new. Trust me babe, no one likes looking at…that.” 

“Oh, is that the stuff you got me?” Mindi pipes up and turns back to you. “It’s fabulous and will totally cover all those freckles and spots. It’s a miracle in a bottle.”  

Freckles and spots. You want to disappear again. You and your freckles and your red hair and your odd sense of humor and…

“She’s not trying to impress me,” Mike’s sharp tone draws all three sets of eyes to him. “I’m already impressed.” He picks up his beer. “Besides, I love her freckles.” 

Kevin bursts out laughing. “What is this, your first date? Shit, man. You don’t have to try that hard with her. You already got a cool dog. If she hasn’t slept with you yet, trust me, she will soon.” 

“Kev, be nice,” Mindi says but it’s quiet and half-hearted. 

He drapes an arm around her shoulders. “Honey, you do realize this is my ex-wife. The one who dumped all my things in the front yard, in the rain, for no reason.” 

“No reason?!” You’re halfway out of the chair when you realize your anger has moved you to your feet. People’s heads have turned in your direction and you slowly sit back down at the table. You remember that horrible night in vivid detail. You and Sam dragging Kevin’s Armani suits, fifty pairs of shoes,  and exercise equipment out of the house. You still don’t know how the two of you managed to move a full size treadmill but rage at his behavior that night certainly was a solid motivator. “You showed up drunk to Colin’s funeral.” 

“Who wants to go to funerals?” Kevin counters. “So I knocked a couple back at the bar down the street. Me and half the people there that night had been drinking before showing up.”  

“Yeah but you were the only one that leaned his fucking elbow on my brother’s casket.” The disbelief and fury you had felt when you had seen that, his lean frame casually leaning on the highly polished wood of Colin’s casket roars to the surface again. You want to punch him in his smug face but instead you ball up the napkin that you’ve been twisting in your lap and throw it at his head. 

Mike stands up from the table and tosses a twenty dollar bill on the table. “Okay, we’re done. Enjoy the table, Kevin. Mindi, my advice would be get the hell out now.” 

“Dude,” Kevin throws his arms out. “What happened to bro code? Bros before hoes.” 

Mike grimaces. “Exhibit A, Mindi.” 

You’re humiliated and angry. You had been looking forward to this evening, excited for this new start with a charming, kind, and good man. And you’ve ruined it because Kevin decided to darken the door of this restaurant and bring out the worst of you. Mike has his phone in his hand, most likely getting ready to call an Uber and retreat from this clusterfuck. You don’t blame him at all. You’re so lost in your thoughts, berating yourself for your outburst, that it must take Mike a couple times of saying your name until you hear him. 

“What?” 

He smiles at you, warmly, and extends his hand that isn’t holding Bono’s leash. “Come on. I know a better place.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief and take his hand before he changes his mind. His hand is warm, broad and it helps ground you in the storm of your fury. It takes a couple tugs for Shasta to follow you, as she doesn’t want to leave her new, loud and giggly, friend but eventually you, Mike, and dogs soon find yourselves back on the sidewalk. 

“I’m so sorry, Mike. I had no idea-“  

“Don’t worry about it. I have an ex-wife, I get it. They call it baggage for a reason.” 

You sigh and drop your shoulders, the tension finally releasing as you start moving down that sidewalk back towards your car. “Thank you, for understanding.” 

You walk a block and stop to wait for the light to change when he squeezes your hand. You realize you never let him go from the restaurant. You give him a small smile and he leans over and presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “I like your freckles. Don’t ever cover them.” 

Oh yeah, you were completely and utterly head over heels for this man.  

[thomasshelbydrabbles]

Everything’s a Negotiation (6/?)

Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x OC, Modern!Alfie Solomons x OC

Warnings: series typical violence, language, sexual situations, possessive behavior

Summary: Mac meets another of Tommy's...associates, and the meeting doesn't go how either of them expected it to.

Word Count: 2616

A/N: Okay, I know this has been forever and that many of you have been waiting so patiently for an update. I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want added to the tag list.

When she’d woken up, Tommy hadn’t been outside her door. She pretended she wasn’t disappointed by his absence. Instead, she’d discovered a rather ostentatious display of flowers on her table. They’d made her smile, which had then made her frown since she had quite decided if she’d been swayed from angry to charmed by Tommy’s behavior. Maybe Sydney would be able to help sort out her emotions tonight when they met for drinks. Although, knowing Syd she might just say to shag him and be done with it.  

Mac dashed into her office, heels in her hands as Katie trailed after her, a cup of coffee in her hand.

“I know, I’m late. It was - ” Mac cut herself off. “It doesn’t matter. Won’t be a problem again.”

Sitting on the edge of her desk, she put her shoes on a took a deep breath. She thanked Katie as she placed the cup of coffee down.

It had been a nightmare getting out of the house. One of those mornings she hadn’t had since Zeus was a puppy. First, he wouldn’t eat. Then when it was time to go outside and get done, he just wanted to sniff everything…and chase everything. She’d been half asleep and more than a little distracted by a tall man with blue eyes, and Zeus managed to slip his lead, so she’d spent precious time chasing him down the street. Not chasing exactly, because if he even thought she was chasing him then it was over before it began since clearly her yelling and running after him meant ‘let’s play a game’ in dog-speak. Instead, Mac had carefully trailed after him, pretending to be absolutely un interested in everything Zeus did until she could get close enough to grab his harness. 

Taking a sip of her coffee, she tilted her head as she noticed a small package waiting for her on her desk. Before she could look for a note or call Katie back in, there was a knock at the door. Reminding herself that she had been a capable professional long before she’d met the Shelby’s and that Zeus was an incredibly well-behaved dog (most of the time), she moved quickly to the door. 

A bright smile on her face, she greeted her first client of the day. 

“Mister Solomons, pleasure.” Mac held her hand out to him. 

He grinned at her. With gentle movements that belied the size of his massive hand, he brought her hand up to his lips. His untamed beard and mustache tickled the back of her hand as he pressed a kiss to it. She felt a blush creep up her neck. When his lips quirked up into a smile, she fought the urge to duck her head as she felt the blush deepen. It was the eyes. She’d always had a weakness for men’s eyes.

“Thank you for seein’ me today in your lovely office, Miss Theil.” 

She gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what it is I can do for you. As I’m sure my assistant told you, we don’t take on contracts for a company of your size. She should have provided you with our list of recommended companies.” 

Taking her seat, she watched as Alfie placed himself in her chair. His frame filled the space and he sprawled himself, as though to intentionally make himself seem larger. 

He nodded, stroked a hand down his beard. “Yes, yes, she did. She did give me a list, but I’ve always thought, right, always thought that it’s best to have business meetings face to face, yeah?” 

“I’m sure. I’m also sure you thought comin’ here in person, flashing me that cheeky smile of yours, using those bright hazel eyes on me would have me all weak in the knees. Figured you could…negotiate a better deal with me.” 

As his smile grew, her frown deepened. It didn’t happen often anymore, her firm had a well-known, and well-respected reputation. But, in the beginning, she’d get a lot of customers who’d come in and demand she clarify her business model, as though she were at uni presenting her portfolio to the tutor at the end of term. Others thought they’d push her around because she had tits and no dick. 

And yet. The more she looked at Mr. Solomons the more she felt something was off . The way he held himself. Casual, almost…waiting. But this waiting for what? She had an inkling he wasn’t expecting her to change her mind. No, this was something else entirely. 

A blinking icon on her screen drew her attention. Glancing down she smirked. Interesting.   

Standing from her desk, she trailed her finger along the polished top as she rounded it. Perching herself directly in front of Mr. Solomons, she crossed her ankles and leaned back against her desk. As she’d expected, his eyes tracked her movements - half interest in her body and half a desire to keep her always in his line of sight. 

“I must admit,” Mac began, voice smooth and even. “I had expected more from a man in your line of work. It’s honestly a bit disappointing, actually.”

She watched his brows furrow. Leaning forward she pouted at him. “Did you mean to insult me, Mr. Solomons?” 

Before he could speak, she turned the computer screen to face him. “Do you see that van there?” She pointed to a nondescript maintenance van parked across the street from her building. 

“There’s the most curious signal coming from that van. I do hope you didn’t invest a great deal of money in either the equipment or the personnel inside.”

“Now, pet - ”

Ignoring the endearment, she continued. “If I were to press this button, a number of simultaneous things would occur. Several which might bring you and your…associate into closer contact with law enforcement than a man in your line of work finds comfortable. This would be followed by lengthy discussions with my team of well-paid and rather intense, if I’m being honest, barristers who would demand a bit more money than you’d be willing to part with because I get greedy when I feel insulted.”

“He’s harmless, only little.” 

Mac smiled, all teeth and false charm. “Unfortunately for you both, I’m anything but harmless. I have this other button here - ” She caressed it. “We can avoid any police involvement, any lengthy litigation, but that van will never work quite properly again.”

“I understand now,” Alfie said almost to himself. “If you wont take me business, would you allow me to take you out for a drink, yeah? Consider it a sort of apology, yeah, for my bad, bad manners.” 

Mac’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly is it that you understand now that wasn’t clear when you showed up in my office earlier, Mister Solomons?”

“Alfie, pet, please.” 

“Answer the question.” 

Alfie scratched at his beard again, eyes slightly narrowed. “You’ll not like the answer I have for you, pet. No, you won’t like it at all. Don’t want you losing your temper at me, sensitive soul that I am, don’t want you to run the risk of hurting my feelings.”

Mac laughed, even though she didn’t want to. How was it that she attracted all the crazy, but endearing men in London to her office? Was she just easily charmed? Maybe Syd had been right about her type…

“Well now you have to tell me, and since you’ve already insulted me, I figure turn about is fair play.” 

“Right you are, pet. I said that I understood, right, understood why Thomas Shelby, yeah, see I knew you weren’t going to like this explanation, right because Thomas Shelby is the one who told me about your company. Encouraged me he did to come have a chat with you, right, but fuck Thomas Shelby because I do want you to work for me because you’re fucking brilliant, right, and I do enjoy the presence of fucking smart people.” 

Shark smile on her face, Mac pressed the button. She knew Alfie tracked her movement, watched his jaw work around words he didn’t say aloud. Walking towards the window, Mac motioned for Alfie to join her. 

Alfie held his hands up in front of him, palms out to placate her. “Now pet - ”

“No cops,” Mac interrupted. “As you said, I’m smart. But, I don’t work for business of your size. Still, I’m damn good at what I do, so here’s a little object lesson for you since you and Tommy seem to be a bit dense. When you report back to him, you can detail what you saw. First hand account. See those men - ” Mac pointed to the quartet of suited men leaving the building and crossing the street. “They work for me. They’re going to detain your man in the van, and confiscate all material assets they find - including the van itself. I’ll impound it in my lot. Strip any electronics I find, purge the data, and if I’m feeling very generous, which is unlikely because I’m a greedy girl, I might send the van to a local chop shop and send you the address - if you’re lucky you might be able to locate a fender.”

“Dinner.” 

Mac shivered. She hadn’t been aware that Alfie had moved in so closely behind her, but she could feel him now. His warm, hard body standing behind her, not touching her, but the threat of it was delicious. The warmth of his breath against her ear when he spoke sent fissures of pleasure down her spine. Damn Sydney for being right about her; she did have a type. 

“Cover you in fucking diamonds, pet, just let me buy you a drink, or dinner, a fucking show, yeah?”

She wanted to lean back against him at the unadulterated need she heard in his voice. Powerful men desperate for her was such a turn on, and she was only human. Tommy’d had a similar affect on her. The growl of his voice, the feeling of his hands on her face, her body. 

“You and Tommy are so similar,” she whispered, hating how breathy it came out. Behind her, she felt the answering rumble from Alfie. “I say no to both of you, refuse to work with you, and next thing I know you’re both offering to buy me drinks, dinner - expensive gifts. One might get the impression you thrive on rejection.” 

“Sapphires,” Alfie whispered, his beard teasing the shell of Mac’s ear. 

Her shoulders rolled back, pressing her ever so slightly closer to him. What the hell was wrong with her? This wasn’t some nameless, faceless bloke on the dance floor in a club in the West End. His hand wrapped gently, if possessively around her hip as he moved himself flush against her back. She should push him away, move away from the warmth of his arms. This was foolish. A needy little sigh escaped her lips. 

“Classy woman like you,” Alfie continued. “Fucking Fabergé Eggs, yeah, nothing but the best for you.”

Mac giggle. “What the fuck would I do with a Russian egg, Alfie?”

He nosed behind her ear. “Anything you want, pet.”

She tilted her head to the side, providing Alfie greater access to her neck. Feeling the scratch of his beard along her sensitive skin had her trembling slightly in his arms. He tightened his hold on her, wrapping both arms more securely around her waist. Warm, large fingers teased along the waist of her skirt, gently lifting her shirt from where she’d tucked it earlier. Slightly chapped lips pressed against her neck as her eyes fluttered closed. 

The touch of of his fingers across her navel startled her from the pleasure induced haze she’d fallen into. 

“Wait,” her voice came out breathier than she’d intended, but the man knew all the right buttons to push. “This is insane, Alfie.” 

Alfie pulled his lips from her neck, helped her stand on her own before gently turning her to face him. 

“What is it, pet?”

“We’re not doing…this,” she made a nonsensical gesture with her hand. “Here, in my office in the middle of the day like we’re the leads in some tawdry bodice ripper you read at the airport because you’re too tired to care what people think of your reading choices.”

Alfie nodded his head. “Classy fucking lady you are, yeah, and you’re correct. This is your place of business. So, let me fix this, right, fix it by taking you out proper, a nice bar, good meal, then when you allow me to ravish you, and ravish you I will, there will be no nonsense about your place of work, about fucking society norms and propriety, right, none of that.” 

“I can’t do that,” Mac blurted.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Tommy - ”

“Fuck Tommy.”

Mac laughed. “He took me to one of his clubs, took me dancing, kissed me like it was his fucking job.”

“That’s because he’s fucking smart. Knows a beautiful woman when he sees one, right, and decides to get his hands on her before some other bloke does.” 

“Then you understand why I have to decline your offer. Both of them.” 

Alfie frowned, stroked his beard. “Are you Jewish, pet?”

Mac shook her head. “No, not that it matters.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong, yeah? It does fucking matter because it means I can’t offer you lifelong commitment, right, can’t offer you a forever sort of relationship, the type I think Thomas Shelby might be inclined to persuade you into, yeah that sounds like ‘im. Since you’re a fucking heathen, I can only offer you a good time, but nothing can come of it which means Tommy, right, he can come in and woo you, take the time to convince you of his better nature, if a Godless thing like him ‘as such a thing, but he can offer you that. Me, I’m just offering drinks.” 

“We went from diamonds and sapphires and fucking Fabergé Eggs to drinks and what, friends with benefits until Tommy decides he wants to put a ring on it? Is that what you actually said?”

Alfie nodded.

“Are you bloody well out of your goddamned mind?” 

“Wot?”

“Oh my fucking god, you’re insane.”

“You’re making a much bigger fuss about this than is strictly necessary, pet.”

Mac shook her hair out of her face before tucking her shirt back into the waist of her pants. 

“You can collect your man on your way out, Mister Solomons. I’ll have one of the guards escort you; can’t have you getting lost in my building.” 

“Pet - ”

Mac ignored him, pressed the call button on her phone and waited for a response. “Katie, can you please send one of the boys in? Mr. Solomons is ready to leave, and he needs to pick up his baggage on the way out.” 

She caught the laugh Alfie tried to hide. Part of her was amused, and she wasn’t quite as offended as she put on. It wasn’t as though she and Tommy were, well, anything. Not really. But. Boundaries - especially in her line of work - were important. Something she’d learned a long time ago. And a fling with a man, no matter how attractive she found him, wasn’t worth the risk. 

“Miss Theil?” 

She looked up. “Brody, thank you. Please take Mr. Solomons to the holding area where his associate has been waiting. Our business is concluded.” 

“Of course, ma’am.” 

Alfie took two steps towards the door before turning to face her. “It’s been a pleasure, Miss Theil. I look forward to seeing you again for a bit of rum.” 

Mac’s smile was thin. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Mister Solomons. Seems it might not rain.”

Part 7

Master List

Tag List: @polishcrazyone​  @allie131313​  @highgardenrosexx​  @stevie75​

[amaiguri]

The Spring Festival

Forever ago, I wrote this cute out-of-context Spring Festival interlude. But, looking at my outline now... it's gonna have to go. I could alter it a ton to make it fit the new plot. But. It's not ready. So, we won't. Enjoy this fluffy little side story anyway!

(Arlasaire, the Former Thuillean) Diacaius insisted we go down to the docks for the New Years Market. Senator Sipestro had delayed the processing of my papers and I still didn’t have my citizens’ sash. So I was tethered. Metaphorically at first. But then, we got into the thicker crowds of brightly colored tunics and seashell crowns and he seized my wrist and held me close.

I glowered as we stepped into a clothing stall. Leather. Cording. Cloaks. It smelled like new clothes. He dragged me to a table and started looking through it.

Ar: *Thuillean* I can follow you, you know…

Di: *Telethenian* I know. But Arlasaire, I already have a small cabal of Senators breathing down my neck about you — I cannot imagine you’re going to be safe if we get separated. Now, pick something out that you like and I’ll get it for you.

Ar: *Telethenian* …don’t need anything.

Di: No, of course not but it’s traditional to get new clothes to usher in a new year. Besides, look how nice this would look on you!

Ar: I-I’m not going to wear a leather… *Thuillean* harness *Telethenian* around the villa!

He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. It was an expression I’d make. Was he mocking me? He grinned but no more than usual.

Di: Why not?

I felt my skin tighten on my left arm. But, as I looked around the shop, the other patrons wore them openly — and over their clothes. I sighed. He wasn’t insinuating anything. It was just… what people wore here.

Ar: In the North, only dogs and rumateurs wear harnesses.

Di: Oh, well, do forgive me, O fair Maiden of Thuille, for offending your Northern sensibilities and suggesting you wear Aftokratorian body jewelry to bring out your eyes and delicate features!

Ar: Stop!

He laughed. My jaw tensed. Deep breaths. He was right about the… body jewelry. The golds and blacks would suit my eyes.

The Svanihk shopkeep came over and wrapped me into it. It secured the white dress around my waist. And fitted the neckline just-so around my clavicles. And when I stepped into the mirror, I looked beautiful. Elegant. Delicate even, as Diacaius had said. It was still a strange sensation.

Ar: …Okay, I like it.

Di: I thought you would. Happy New Years, Arlasaire.

I froze. My eye darted to meet his. But for once, there was no trace of cruelty in his gaze. Another small olive branch. As he would say. He had been giving me a lot of those lately…

Maybe it was time to return one.

He and the shopkeep began to discuss the pricing. I stepped behind a rack of cloaks to break his line of sight… and bolted out the front when I heard him speak. Someone would tell him immediately. I had to acquire a gift before he caught up.

I pushed back into the throng. People touched each other like lovers as they passed—comfortable with strangers in their personal space. Their warmth crawled down my spine. But I bore it. No one else seemed to mind. Earlier in our walk, a stall selling glass baubles caught his eye. He’d stopped at it. Hopefully, something from there…

As I slid into the white draped tent again, though, I realized it was more than just baubles — glass eyes, rings with air sigils, lighters, and other useful things too. And Diacaius was missing one eye. A Mage and all. I pointed to one and pronounced my best Telethenian:

Ar: Excuse me, how much is—?

The shopkeeper twisted—a Telethenian man, clad in black, with thick leather gloves—and leered over me. I fell silent.

Shopkeep: What’s wrong, girlie? Go on then.

Ar: H-How much is this?

Shopkeeper: Too much for your blood.

He spat at me. A chill. I stepped back.

Shopkeep: Get out. And I’ve seen whores wear better “Burned Maiden” costumes.

Whores. Costumes. Of me. No one had ever hated me for being a Northerner… Nor thought I wasn’t me. I tried to say something. But nothing. My throat caught.

I heard a shift in the curtain behind me.

???: Now now, Setoles… don’t bite the girl’s head off.

I whirled. But the click of the shoes. The smell of smoke. The voice. It was unmistakeably Lucienne.

And there she was. I knew she’d come south. I had seen her talking to Diacaius. I didn’t know she’d be here.

The shopkeeper straightened up as Lucienne went and put herself on his arm. Kissing his cheek. I set my jaw. Of course.

Se: Miss Lucienne, to what do I owe the pleasure?

Lu: I was merely coming to pick up the Senator’s order — what are YOU doing bullying the poor Burned Maiden of Thuille?

Se: Oh, this isn’t—

He stopped himself. Looking at me again. Looking at her.

Se: Is she?

Lu: Yes. She is.

She looked me in the eyes. I swallowed. Fondness. Nostaglia. And a mask of superiority.

She undid herself from him and slid up to me next. A hand on my cheek. I swallowed. Barely able to hold her violet gaze. And when she spoke in Thuillean, it was like hearing the sounds of home.

Lu: Hello, Arlasaire.

I said nothing. Nothing seemed to come out whenever she spoke to me.

Lu: What’s wrong? Lose your tongue in the Abyss too?

Ar: I—!

She giggled and ran her elegant fingers over my new jewelry.

Lu: Mmm, this is new… this looks very nice on you…

Ar: I… uh… I’m here to get a present for Diacaius.

Lu: Oh, your new father?

She snickered. I shoved her. Her eyes went wide and the shopkeep stepped between us. There wasn’t a Gil to protect her now. And I didn’t care about the shopkeep.

But she brushed him off.

Lu: But you don’t have a sash. Or a wallet.

…She was right.

Lu: So I’m not sure how you’re going to do that… but, because I’m so kind and generous, I’ll buy it for you and even pay for the fitting, if…

I sighed as she considered how she wanted to torment me.

Lu: …if you get me another meeting with your daddy.

Ar: Please don’t call him that.

Lu: Whatever. Can you do it?

Ar: …Probably.

Lu: That’s not good enough.

Ar: …sure. Yes. Fine.

Lu: Good! Then whatever you want is yours, cutie!

“Cutie.” She didn’t think I was cute. What a bitch. Why’d she have to be so hot?

I found Diacaius sitting at a foodstall immediately across the street, talking to a young girl. I swallowed. He knew. As I walked up, he pat the girl on the head and sent of her off. His silver eye leveled on me.

Di: Arlasaire.

I bit my lower lip. His tone said everything. I made myself small.

And pulled out the wooden box.

Ar: …But I got you something.

Di: Oh? What’s this?

He opened it. I’d picked out a glass eye with golden flecks in it. And it shone bright against its satin packaging.

Ar: I also paid to have it fitted, whenever you want.

He was smiling the same smile he always wore. I swallowed. Was it okay? Did he understand? He looked up slowly.

Di: Does my eyepatch bother you?

Ar: What? No! It’s just… you were looking before. And this one is gold. Like mine. If you wear, we’ll actually look related.

I stared at his shoes then. It was stupid. It sounded even stupider when I said it aloud.

Di: …You, of all people, should know you don’t need to look like your family members.

Ar: I know.

He held it up to the light and then placed it back in the box. It vanished to elsewhere. He placed a hand on my shoulder and stood. Taller than me now.

Di: …You don’t have to pretend to like me anymore. I trust you see there’s a bigger threat to your safety and happiness than my humble self. You’re a smart girl.

Ar: …I’m not pretending.

Di: *Amused* Oh? You DO like me?

Ar: No! …But… We’re working towards the same thing now. I don’t hate you anymore either.

Di: Ah, a marked improvement! I am truly honored!

Ar: Don’t be.

He bellowed laughter and fluffed my hair. Everyone, apparently, liked fluffing my hair.

We set back off through the festival and sent up paper lanterns later that night — sending away the snow and souls of the dead to make way for new life in Spring. He told me to make a wish. But while my heart ached for many things, I wasn’t sure I had anything I wished was different anymore.

[edupunkn00b]

Where the Air is Sweet, Chapter 1

Photo by Rachel Martin on Unsplash

Ch. 1 - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Patton and Logan share an apartment in an old brownstone on a quiet street. They each have their quirks (as do their neighbors!) and, on the outside, you'd never expect them to actually get along.

But for all the surface differences, their love shines through.

WC: 727 - Rated: G - CW: none, all fluff (future chapters may have some swearing) -

A brilliant sunset had nearly burned away the last of that morning's rain. Nearly. A few small puddles remained for Patton to 'accidentally' splash on his way home from Mr. D's bodega. Most of the block had opened their windows to let in the warm, fresh air, and the soft sounds of dinner-making and children laughing spilled out from each apartment he passed. Up ahead, Patton was pretty sure he could pick out Roman's humming as he hung his laundry at the end of the block. He was certain he caught a flash of purple plaid on Roman's line, which meant his best friend was visiting. No wonder he was in such a good mood.

Music—well, what their next-door neighbor Remus called music, at least—poured up from his basement apartment window. The volume was low, which meant Logan was home.

When he reached the stoop, Patton skipped down the steps, mesh grocery bags swinging. He crouched in front of the door to read the address label on a package from Lucas' Leatherworks that lay just outside the door. It had Logan's name on it, so he tucked it into the bag of oatmeal and bananas and opened the door. "Oh, Lo!" he called. Logan wasn't in the kitchen, so Patton left the bags on the counter and fished out the box. "Lo, you got a package!"

"Oh, good! I was expecting that—Patton!" he snapped, hurrying to close the front door. "Pat, you left the door open again. And you're tracking in water!"

"Oops," he grinned, toeing off his shoes and setting them in the shoe rack to dry. "Sorry, Lo. I was just so excited! Here…" Patton held out the box as an offering and he danced his shoulders back and forth when the crease in Logan's brow dissolved.

He tugged down his sweater vest, a smile quirking up his lips. "Thank you, Pat," he nodded and took the package. Opening the utility drawer without looking, he reached for a letter opener. With the box set flat on the counter, he scored the tape, then pried open the box by hand.

"You didn't want the box opener?" Patton asked, elbows rested on the counter and leaning over to see.

"It might damage the harness," Logan muttered. He rolled up his sleeves before sifting through the packing peanuts and pulling out a… thing made of leather straps and little buckles.

"Uh, Lo?" Patton stared at the object. Logan had called it a harness, but it was way too small for a horse or a dog. "What are you going to use that for?"

"Oh!" Logan looked up. "Come to the bedroom and I'll show you."

"Okay," Patton grinned and followed him to their shared bedroom.

Once inside, Logan set the harness on his bed and reached underneath, pulling out a shoe box. He handed it to Patton. "Take off the lid, and come over here be ready."

Patton tilted his head, his confusion growing when he lifted the lid and revealed soft fleece lining the inside, a few inches thick. Logan had already moved to the window, so he followed, box at the ready.

Logan opened the window and whistled quietly, then made a little cooing sound at the back of his throat. After a moment, a familiar pigeon poked her head inside. "There you are, Bernice," he murmured, both hands outstretched. She hobbled closer and it was then that Patton noticed the twine and popsicle sticks strapped around her right leg.

Moving slowly and continuing to coo, Logan cradled the bird in his hands and set her gently in the shoe box. "Keep her steady, Pat," he said quietly and Patton stood like a statue, hugging the box—and its precious contents—close to his chest. "You can pat her head, she likes that," Logan added, smiling when he gently pet her.

Snatching up the harness, he addressed Bernice. "I'm going to swap this out for something a little more comfortable, girl, okay?" Cooing quietly, the bird cocked her head. "Mm-hm," he hummed. "This will keep your ankle steady while it heals."

"I think she understands," Patton giggled, watching as Bernice remained still in the box, allowing Logan to remove the old makeshift splint and replacing it with the sleek new leather one.

Nodding as he worked, Logan smiled back. "I think so, too."

[faytelumos]

Ol' Ben, pt2

[This is not a Star Wars story.]

previous

---

Villain stayed low to the ground, keeping their weight forward on their knees, their hands held behind their back. They stared forward, intent on the old little dachshund. Ben was wagging his tail, a paw off of the ground as if ready to reach out, his sappy eyes on Villain's face.

"Are you ready?" Villain teased, playful. Ben opened his little mouth, eyes flicking to Villain's shoulders, and he reached out just slightly with his paw. "Okay, three… two-one!"

Villain flicked out their hands, holding their fists palm-down in front of Benny, who yipped in delight and immediately nommed on Villain's right hand.

"You didn't even check!" Villain cried in mock outrage as Benny pawed and scratched and nibbled and nosed Villain's closed fist. Villain laughed, opening their hand to show the treat wasn't there. Benny barked and went to pick Villain's other hand, but they put them both behind their back again. "Okay, you have to try this time," Villain chuckled, turning as Ben tried to run around them. He barked, then gave a soft whimper, looking Villain in the face once more. "Just try again, you'll do great." Ben kept his paw up, looking almost as if he could burst into tears. Villain offered their hands again, and Benny went for the right immediately, but then turned his head and pushed his nose into the left. Villain cheered softly, opening their hand to expose the treat, and Benny snapped it up and looked up to Villain, chewing proudly and wagging his tail. Villain gave him a pet and a head rub before getting up off of their knees.

"Last one's for free," Villain said, taking one more treat out of the little jar. Benny pattered up to them, still chewing, and Villain laughed. "Finish what's in your mouth!" Benny chewed, swallowed, licked his chops, and wagged his tail. Villain smiled, offering the free treat, which Benny ate while looking up at Villain. They closed the plastic jar and set it back in its place on the coffee table. "Alright, Ol' Ben. Time to go shopping."

Villain had been excited for this for two days now. Hero's trip fell right on May 4th, and with everything Ben owned being Halloween themed, they just couldn't wait to mess with Hero's head. They were sure Ben wouldn't mind a little fun, though he couldn't know it was at Hero's expense. Villain could teach Benny to be mischievous, but the little thing seemed too kind-natured to cause trouble.

Villain loaded the pet stroller and the small dog bed into their car before putting on Benny's harness and slipping off his remaining socks. They picked him up gently, mindful of his unnaturally long, old man back, and gently took him out to the car. They buckled him in with the special pet buckle, then both of them were off to the pet store.

It did feel a little ridiculous to have so many pet-specific things. Villain felt like one of those doggy soccer moms, with a chest harness and a potty-bag bracelet and… whatever other things dog-crazy people had. But Benny was Hero's best friend, it seemed. And the more time they spent with Benny, the softer they got for him. He was gentle, and he was polite, and once he'd gotten more comfortable with Villain, he was a good cuddler.

Actually, Villain felt more at-ease with Benny pressed to their side than they had in the arms of many a human. Maybe it was because Benny didn't want anything from them except crackers and chicken.

Either way, Villain wasn't quite as embarrassed strolling their fifteen-year-old charge into the pet store as they might have been last week. Benny stayed in the carriage, sniffing and looking around, and he got a doe-eyed look and a coo from a woman across the main aisle right away.

Villain parked the little stroller beside a rack of Star Wars costumes, stroking their chin thoughtfully.

"What'll it be, Ol' Ben?" Villain asked, reaching for a cardboard hanger. "Death Star?" They grabbed another. "Or Storm Trooper?" They held the costumes up for Ben to sniff. He booped the Death Star costume with his nose, then sat back and looked at Villain. "Death Star it is," Villain said with a grin.

They shopped around for a long time, picking various costumes, themed treats, and a couple enrichment toys. By the time they came up to the counter, Villain was drawing off of their evil sources of self-confidence to keep their head up. They were not a dog person. They were just a Benny person.

Once they were home, Villain set about hiding all of the Halloween-themed costumes and treats, replacing them with the various Imperial and First Order merchandise. They had gotten a single Rebellion costume, and that was only because Benny liked it.

They had dinner together, and were just settling in to watch the movies when the doorknob jiggled.

Villain sat forward, watching the hallway, putting out a hand to hold Benny back. The lock turned and the door opened, and a moment later, Hero came clattering into view.

Benny barked sharply, getting up and jumping off of the couch like lightening, and both Hero and Villain lunged to catch him. Villain held him carefully in the air, paws running and tail wagging, whole body trembling, as Hero dropped every last thing in their arms and ran up to greet him.

"Hi, baby boy!" Hero cooed, kneeling and holding Benny in their lap as he whimpered and wagged and licked their face. Hero giggled, adjusting the placement of Benny's paws on their chest, nuzzling his face. "I missed you, too!" Villain stood, smiling, arms crossed.

"Welcome back," they offered. Hero smiled, tilting their head up so Benny couldn't lick their face.

"Thanks," they sighed, then they excitedly (but gently) flipped Benny to lay with his back along their arm, his excited feet kicking in the air, whining and whimpering. Hero nuzzled their face into his chest, and Benny licked their hair excitedly.

"Here I was hoping that by the time you got back, I'd have turned him over to the Dark Side," Villain said. It didn't seem like Hero had noticed any changes yet.

"Yeah, not likely," Hero said, looking up, rubbing Benny's chest and the sweater over it. "He's a good boy. Isn't that right?" Hero said, looking back down to Benny. Their eyes flickered to the new socks, and Villain bit their lip. "Oh," Hero said, holding one of Benny's feet. "You got him new socks?" Hero inspected the Death Star socks, and Villain crossed their arms.

"And a couple other things," they teased. Hero looked up to them, confused, then looked down again and noticed Benny's sweater. They set him down, and he turned in a circle to look up at Hero again, wagging excitedly. Hero barked a laugh at the Darth Vader sweater, sternly reading, "I find your lack of treats disturbing."

"Very funny," Hero said, petting Benny before getting up and going to the little hamper where they kept all his costumes. They knelt down and Villain grinned when their face fell. "You're kidding," Hero droned, digging through the selection.

"Oh, I never kid," Villain sang, stepping closer as Hero ruffled through their new selection of options. Villain grabbed the plastic jar off of the coffee table, shaking it, and Benny and Hero both looked up to the container full of red light saber biscuits.

Hero laughed bitterly, covering their eyes as Benny pattered forward and looked at Villain sweetly. Villain gave their most evil chuckle as they dug out a treat.

"You're corrupting my dog," Hero groaned.

"Corrupt-ed, dear," Villain chuckled. Benny crunched on his biscuit, getting crumbs absolutely everywhere, and turned his whole body to proudly show Hero what he was eating. Hero laughed, petting Benny softly.

"I can't believe you," they laughed.

"I think you can," Villain teased. They leaned forward, picking the Obi-Wan costume out. "He specifically asked for this one."

"Oh, did he, now?" Hero laughed, taking the offered costume. Benny sniffed it and wagged his tail before turning to lick up his treat. "Where's all of his old stuff?" Hero asked, laying the costume aside heartlessly.

"You'll never find out," Villain said, lifting their nose.

"Oh, perfect, I should have guessed," Hero replied, standing. They were smiling with their whole face, and they seemed relaxed despite being tired. It made Villain smile, too. Hero's expression faltered, and they rubbed the back of their neck, taking a deep breath. "Uh, if you don't want to leave yet, I can make something to eat." Villain crossed their arms again, smiling.

"That'll be perfect, Ol' Ben and I were just about to watch A New Hope."

"I don't know which one that is." Villain gasped dramatically, outraged. Hero laughed. "You're such a nerd," Hero said, shaking their head, going to clean up their stuff.

"Nerds love math — I'm a geek."

"Whatever!" Hero laughed, Benny following them, licking his chops, as they took their bags to the bedroom. Villain smiled after them.

[deathsplaything]

Tea Time || Alistair & Ariadne

LOCATION: The Sugar Pot TIMING: Current PARTIES: Alistair (@deathsplaything) & Ariadne (@ariadnewhitlock) SUMMARY: Ariadne stops by Alistair's shop and learns about the tea and the man behind it. Warnings: None :)

Nearing the end of the day, the customer flow had slowed down, leaving Alistair off in the corner of the shop, tapping away on his laptop, and Melody, the other owner of the shop, behind the counter, cleaning and organizing. Brutus was off in his bed beside Alistair, eyes open but relaxed. Occasionally, the big black lab would look around, suddenly far more alert, but would then relax again after a few moments. In those moments, Alistair would go still, typing on his keyboard, and cease for that brief moment, then continue again when Brutus returned to relaxing. A few customers were in the store, all sitting about the store, drinking their beverages and talking amongst themselves. It was a cozy atmosphere that Alistair had worked hard to create with his business partner.

The bell attached to the front door chimed, signaling a customer entering or exiting the store. “Welcome in!” Melody spoke in a cheery voice, alerting Alistair to the arrival of a new customer. Brutus, suas.” The man spoke to the large lab, who groaned as he stretched before rising to his feet and slotting next to Alistair, who curled his fingers around the harness’ handle. He spoke another command, which caused Brutus to walk toward the customer to get to the counter, though his movements were wary, as if he was afraid to get too close to the new customer. Utterly uncharacteristic of his guide dog, Brutus stopped. It caused Alistair to stumble, and he waved his hands about to realize he wasn’t behind the counter. “Brutus, what’s gotten into you?” The dog let out a whine in response. 

“Melody, my dog’s broken.” The man complained with an exasperated sigh. “He’s never done this before.” Melody took Alistair by the arm, guiding him toward the counter. Brutus growled as he passed Ariadne and retreated to his bed again, keeping an eye on her. “Sorry about that. I swear he’s not… that kind of dog.” Alistair furrowed his brows, confused. He’d have to deal with that later. “What can I get for you?” He asked, determined to smooth over whatever happened with his guide dog.

Tea shops were always good places to go. They provided a certain sense of comfort and familiarity, no matter what. Even if there were choices to be made, there was no wrong one, and people didn’t get hurt because of the choices you made. Plus, tea was a very good vessel for sugar, and there were times when Ariadne didn’t even feel the need to add too much, simply because of how lovely all the flavors were, together.

The Sugar Pot was a good place to go by, and the name itself seemed to be some sort of good luck – places named after sweet things had to be good, after all, didn’t they? Ariadne offered the woman at the counter a small smile, though her face quickly fell as she noticed that the other person in the shop had a dog. A dog who, as was expected, was immediately paranoid around her, and wary of her. The dog whined, and Ariadne bit the inside of her cheek to do her best not to cry. Because apparently there were ways for things in tea shops to go wrong.

“It’s okay – maybe I smell like a cat, or something.” Or maybe I’m a monster, Ariadne did her best to push that particular thought out of her head. “I’d love to try a few teas – do you have a favorite herbal one? Something that might go especially well with honey?”

With Brutus tucked away in the back room, Alistair rolled his eyes as he made his way back to the counter, feeling a little lost without a cane or dog to help guide his way back. It was clunky and he ran into a few things, but he got there in the end. “Well I won’t let my dog acting weird stop you from having a good tea experience.” He spoke as he put his hands up on the counter and clasping them together. 

As she asked for a recommendation, his eyes rolled upward behind his tinted lenses, thinking hard for a moment. “I’ve got just the concoction.” He announced, turning around and running his hand across the Braille containers until he found the right one. “Rooibos with honeybee pollen, vanilla, and caramel.” He spoke as he began to steep the tea in a cup of hot water. “The perfect tea for making you want to curl up under a blanket with a good book.” He added with a bright smile. 

A part of Alistair liked putting his best foot forward with a new customer. Everyone liked a different flavor profile, and sometimes simpler was better. But he liked to show off the flavor combinations he and Melody had developed over their time with the store. After making the tea, he placed the cup on the counter for the girl to take and try. “If it’s not your liking, we can try something else.”

“Still, maybe it’s me.” It was her, but there was no way to tell that to perfectly normal people without them assuming that she had it out for animals. Which, as it would happen, was the exact opposite of how things were. The very fact that she caused animals even the slightest distress would have been exactly the sort of thing to keep her up, were she at all capable of sleep. Given that Ariadne was physically unable to sleep now, it just plagued her whenever she was directly reminded of it. 

Such as right this moment. “But I – it won’t ruin anything, I just want to make sure that your dog’s okay.” But the man had moved past that, and so Ariadne did her best to do so as well. “That sounds perfect. It – this is a silly question, probably totally, but it doesn’t hurt the bees to take their pollen for this, does it? Because I don’t want something to have been hurt for my enjoyment.” Her stomach twisted into knots.

“But that does sound like a perfect sort of tea, curling up under blankets is a wonderful way to spend one’s time.” Ariadne carefully took the mug of tea after he’d placed it on the counter, taking a careful sip. “I love it.” It was different from what she was used to, but warm and welcoming all the same. “How did you end up getting into the tea expert area of things? If I can ask.” She glanced around, grateful that she wasn’t taking up his time or space from other customers, at least not right now. “I’d love to also try a second sort, if you have any other recommendations. But I love this one.” She took another sip, both to prove her point and because the warmth was desperately welcomed.

The necromancer took in the girl’s words, almost as if she were insisting that it was her. Curious, but he still let it go. He could hear it in her tone that it disappointed her. He was a spellcaster, he knew of curses and different ailments that caused animals to fear humans. In a town like this, there was also a chance that the girl wasn’t human at all. Alistair liked to believe that everyone was human until proven otherwise and kept his sanity intact that way.

Alistair nodded his head slowly as the girl’s voice shifted to one of slight worry. “Between you and me? I’m strictly vegetarian.” He told her with the continued slow nod of his head. “The pollen I get is actually kind of an interesting process.” The necromancer’s face lit up, as if talking about the mundane sourcing was something that interested him and took pride in. “There are traps left at the base of hives that collect the fallen pollen from the bees traveling back into their hive. Nothing that harms the bee but allows the beekeeper to collect pollen ethically. Everything I have is sourced ethically and, ingredient permitted, as locally as possible.” 

Beaming at the girl’s acceptance of the drink, Alistair relaxed a touch. “I’m glad you do! It’s high up on my list, personally.” His smile didn’t fade as she asked him how he got into teas. She asked questions that made him proud about his work instead of begrudging. “Before I lost my sight, I was a pharmacist at a big hospital in New York City.” He explained, waving a hand. “I’ve always been into more apothecary work, knowing what herbs can be used for what ailments when the situation is benign enough to call for it. So, I got into brewing unique tea blends. When I lost my sight, I couldn’t be a pharmacist anymore for obvious reasons, so I moved out here to Wicked’s Rest, and I met Melody, who would become my business partner. She was the one that pushed me to open the shop.” He leaned forward on the counter, glad to have struck up a conversation with someone that was genuinely interested in his work. When she inquired about a second type, Alistair held up a finger and turned around, beginning to sort through the different blends he kept prepared. “Have you ever tried honeybush before?” He asked over his shoulder as he picked up the correct jar. “It’s a sibling of rooibos. It smells sweet like honey, hence its name.” He turned around and placed the loose, blended herbs before the girl. “It’s earthy with notes of honey and vanilla, but is an earthier kind of tea if that’s something you’d like to try?”

“I’m – not. Vegetarian, I mean. But I don’t like to think about any animals getting hurt, but I guess I just was never vegetarian.” Ariadne fiddled with her fingers for a moment. Because maybe that was a disappointment to this man, and maybe he was going to think her a very confusing person for being so concerned about animals and yet completely chill with eating meat. But maybe she was just overthinking it.

She certainly hoped that she was just overthinking it.

Either way, Ariadne figured she could at least enjoy the tea for the time being, and if the man had decided that she shouldn’t come around again, then at least she would’ve had a few good moments. Which was an extremely over-dramatic way of thinking about things, but right now she couldn’t help herself. “That makes sense.” She nodded at the explanation of how the pollen was collected. “I’m glad it doesn’t hurt them.” Redundant, but to the point. Hopefully it would reassure the tea-shop-owner-person that she was a safe person to be around, even if she’d already blamed herself for the dog’s behavior and admitted to not being vegetarian. “Local’s like, way in and stuff too. So that’s hip.” She winced at how much she sounded like someone middle-aged, even though she supposed she felt that way sometimes. “Not to sound weird,” she let out a small, semi-stifled laugh.

At least he was smiling. Which meant clearly this whole tea business wasn’t just some casual one-off thing, which she appreciated. Ariadne always appreciated those who really did what they loved. No matter what it was (though, she supposed, people who loved hurting people weren’t people she could really support), if someone loved it, if it brought them joy, then it had to be something good. Plus, tea was something that she could very much understand loving. The power of different flavors, how she could make it incredibly sweet if she felt the need (which she did, now, more than ever before), and how comforting it was.

“You lived in the city?” Ariadne leaned forward, in awe. Not that she’d never been to any big city, even though she knew that was probably what it sounded like, but there was something about having lived in a big and fancy city that kept her completely drawn in. “I’m sorry you couldn’t be a pharmacist anymore, but I think it’s pretty cool that you took your talents and used them for something else super neat like this. It’s, like – it’s just real neat.” She paused, “how’d you find out about this town? We’re small-ish, though I guess we get a number of tourists. I grew up here, that’s only why I ask.”

“I – don’t think I have heard of honeybush.” Part of her was grateful that he couldn’t see her face, because who was she to call herself any sort of enthusiastic enjoyer of tea if she hadn’t even heard of a number of the types he was listing. “But it sounds lovely, and I do like rooibos.” Ariadne smelled the tea, “yeah, that sounds nice. I like the earth.” I like the earth? What kind of strange statement was that? “I’m down to try most things. So yeah, I’d love to!”

Alistair waved a hand as the girl explained she wasn’t a vegetarian. “And that’s totally fine!” He chirped back. “Humans are omnivores, not strictly one or the other. I’m not one to preach about choosing one diet over the others. I just don’t like the taste of meat very much. Made it easier.” He decided it was easiest to be kind and respectful to the girl instead of joking with her, as he could hear the nervousness in her tone. Usually, he had a rather dry sense of humor, but he already knew it would be a bad idea in this situation. 

Letting out a soft laugh, Alistair shook his head as he poured the second cup of tea. “That’s me, over fifty and hip.” In truth, there was an element of style to the necromancer. He wore heeled ankle boots with embroidered flowers and a bronze shoe tip, loose baggy brown pants, tucked-in moss green turtleneck, and a see-through green cardigan with embroidered vines on it. While he couldn’t exactly see what he was wearing, he knew his clothes by their textures. Instead of appreciating the colors, he learned what textures he liked, such as embroidery, as it allowed him to feel the pattern on the clothes instead of asking someone what it looked like. 

“I did, yes!” He spoke in a chipper tone. “I loved it there, but things changed.” His eyes went stormy for a moment, and he was glad that his sunglasses were able to cover it up. “Lost someone and my sight along with it. Decided it wasn’t a good place to be anymore.” He thought for a moment, remembering how his friend from college had reached out to him. “My business partner here reached out after the accident, told me to move down by her. She’s born and raised in Wicked’s Rest, so… I did.” He shrugged his shoulders, leaving out the part where he had no family to return to back in Scotland and that the accident hadn’t been an accident at all. 

After a moment of silence, the faraway look in Alistiar’s eyes vanished as he shook his head, pulling himself back to the present and swiftly changed the subject. “If you like Rooibos and things on the sweeter side, then you’ll like Honeybush.” Alistair pushed the steaming cup of tea towards the girl with a smile. “Consider these on the house. I like conversing with someone genuinely interested in what I do.” He gave a bright smile, leaning on the counter. “I’m Alistair.” He finally introduced himself after realizing they hadn’t been properly acquainted. “And my business partner here is Melody.” He spoke, gesturing vaguely toward the blonde woman who looked up from her computer with a cheery smile, waving over at Ariadne, and then returning to her work. 

“That makes sense.” Besides, she was pretty sure that feeding on humans meant she couldn’t consider herself a vegetarian. Though she wasn’t sure what that made her, and Ariadne didn’t want to think about it all too much. Simply… actively didn’t think about it too much, because once she started, it was pretty near impossible to slip out of that line of thinking, which wasn’t where she wanted to end up while in a stranger’s tea shop. A tea shop that she ideally wanted to return to, sometime, and so she figured that avoiding making a fool of herself should rank fairly high on her list of priorities.

He was older than her parents. Which wasn’t a huge surprise, but interesting nonetheless to hear him so readily admit it. “You seem it!” She chirped, and hoped that he didn’t think she was being sarcastic or patronizing – or some horribly awful combination of the two. Ariadne made a face at the very thought of it all. Not that she was one to really judge on what was hip and what wasn’t – it certainly hadn’t been intentional, but she’d found herself more drawn to less popular things – only in so much as that she just liked them more. When Alex had told her about Taylor Swift, she’d appreciated that too, she just happened to feel best with Fleetwood Mac and ABBA music. Though she didn’t feel like she should go about explaining all of that to the man. That would be nothing but an extreme case of oversharing, which she wanted to avoid. 

Both because it wasn’t polite, and because Ariadne wasn’t really the sort to share too much about herself with strangers. Or even non-strangers. Even if he had wonderful tea, this man was both older than even her parents were and absolutely still qualified in the stranger category, and so she kept her lips pressed shut, tightly, not daring to risk any sort of misstep as far as comportment went.

Except that this man was apparently at least somewhat more okay with sharing bits of his life story than she was, but Ariadne didn’t mind that. “I’m sorry – about the person and the eyesight. If – I know – nevermind.” She wasn’t going to get all done up about whether or not she should apologize about various things. “That’s cool, that you already knew her.” She fidgeted with her hands again.

“Are you sure?” She took the cup of Honeybush in her hands, grateful for the warmth. “I mean, I really – I – thanks a lot, but you don’t have to. I don’t wanna make you feel like you’ve gotta give me free stuff, just because I like tea.” Ariadne took a sip of the tea. “Though you were right, this is good.” She set the mug down a moment. “I’m Ariadne. Nice to meet you both.”

The redhead took the compliment in stride with a smile and bow of his head, though it earned a well-meaning eye-roll from Melody. Alistair frowned as he heard a bark sound from the back room, reminding him that Brutus was still stuck in the back room after barking at the poor girl who had been nothing but pleasant. “Really am sorry about him.” His unseeing gaze flitted over to the direction of the bark, then shook his head. 

Alistair nodded his head slowly as she apologized for things that happened to him in his past. It would always be a sore spot, of course, but over the years since the incident, he’d learned to cope with it better. “It’s alright. It’s been eight years.” He explained with a gentle shrug of his left shoulder. “You learn to deal with it in your own way.” He cleared his throat, clearly wanting to stearclear of the topic if he could help it. 

“Positive! You’ve been kind and showed genuine interest in my work. Plus Brutus had no reason to act the way he did.” He gave a glower towards the room that contained his dog, then let out a sigh and turned his attention back towards the young girl. “Ariadne, daughter of King Minos of Crete.” He grinned, then took a step away from the counter to grab the wash cloth underneath and begin to wipe down the counter in front of him to keep his hands busy. “A pleasure to meet you. I’m glad you like it!”

“You really don’t have to keep saying sorry.” Ariadne clenched up her fists, grateful for a moment that the man in front of her couldn’t see just how much she was shifting around and how much she wanted to do nothing more than crawl out of her skin.

Except it was daytime, and that meant that she couldn’t leave without making something of a ruckus. Not that she would’ve astral projected anyways, because that was rude and she very much didn’t want to be rude. Or to come off as rude even slightly. Outside of making animals scared, that was something she dreaded doing an incredibly strong amount. Except that at least with the whole rudeness worry, Ariadne did at least have a certain measure of control – the same of which couldn’t be said regarding the animal issue.

“I’ve shown an interest because I am interested.” She nodded. “Tea’s super cool, and I love to be able to talk to people about stuff that they’re passionate about even if it’s not something I am interested in, and tea has a nice added bonus of me also being interested in it, soooo there’s double interest and fascination at play here.” Ariadne shrugged at his recollection of her name’s origins. “That’s mean, except my dad isn’t a king. He’s the best, but we’re not royalty.” She watched him clean the counter. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too!”

Alistair relaxed a touch as Ariadne admitted her own fascination with tea. A smile overcame his features as Melody groaned. “You’ve done it now,” she teased with a playful smile as Alistair pulled out a jar of strange-looking flowers. White petals, magenta to purple string-like petals, and magenta protrusions that looked like a pair of antennae. “This is the passion flower.” He explained with a grin. “Studies suggest that this flower boosts GABA levels in the brain. “The more GABA, the more relaxed you are. Better overall mood, stuff like that.” He patted the jar with the flower petals in it, a smile still on his face. 

“Anytime you want to learn something new about what some of the herbs and flowers are capable of doing, just swing by. I have only Melody to talk to about these things, and she’s heard it all already.” He jabbed a thumb in the general direction of his business partner, who let out a sigh. “It’s not that I don’t find it fascinating, but I can only hear about fun facts of the petunia so many times.”

Alistair grinned, feeling satisfied that he’d annoyed Melody enough and allowed Ariadne to learn something new. “I’m sure your dad is better than King Menos of Crete anyway.” Alistair decided with a shrug of his shoulder. “Royalty is overrated.” He added with a sage nod of his head. “Anytime you want tea, you stop on in.” Melody insisted with a bright smile. “Or if you ever want to listen to Alistair talk your ear off about a flower’s medicinal purposes.” Alistair gave a pout toward Melody, but it easily broke into an amused smile. 

“Being in a good mood does sound ideal.” Ariadne made a small face. “But like, confusing or sad or grumpy or crummy moods are also valid.” She wasn’t sure if she was saying it more as conversation or some form of self-validation, but she was just going to focus on tea and flowers and cool stuff like that now. Maybe Wynne would want to come here, because they knew a lot about plants and they were so smart and deserved to have delicious tea. Plus, thinking of more date spots for the two of them delighted Ariadne to no end.

“I’ll be sure to come by. I’m always down to hear any sort of fun fact if it’s something that makes someone happy and doesn’t hurt anybody!” So she would come by again, and also maybe this was this guy’s way of saying he wanted more company, and Ariadne literally had nothing but time. She’d have even more once she graduated and didn’t have classes to go to.

“Oh, well, I think my dad’s the best. Well, so’s my mom. Best parents in general, in my opinion, at least. They’re perfectly matched for me.” Ariadne couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, I’m not a scientist, but again, if it’s something you like, then I’d love to hear about it. Honest!” Because she wasn’t too keen to come off as patronizing.

“My fun facts are of the unpainful variety, I can assure you,” Alistair answered with an amused smirk, then turned to grab an empty bag off the shelf and fill it with herbs and flower petals for their vanilla parfait tea blend. “Vanilla and a nutty rooibos with a honey flavor.” He told her before sliding the sample bag over to her. “Consider it a gift for being so delightful to converse with.” He spoke with a friendly smile. 

“Come any time you wish, I’ll be around. And if I’m not, then Melody is.” He added, knowing it was time to let the girl be on her way before she felt trapped. Besides, he’d left Brutus in the back room. It was nice to meet someone so friendly and willing to hear what he had to say. Because, really, he had a lot to say a lot of the time. “I’ll let you be on your way.” He spoke, and Melody took that as her cue to go back to shutting down for the day. “Lovely to meet you!” The woman spoke up with a bright smile in Ariadne’s direction. “Please stop by whenever you would like more tea, or just to talk. As Alistair said, we’re always around.”  With that, Alistair gave another nod in Ariadne’s direction before heading to the back to see if Brutus was alright. Another less successful business transaction, seeing as how Alistair was more than keen to give out free tea to anyone who so much as showed interest in his business, but alright because he met someone who cared enough to listen.

[torchsart]

ok ur definitely gonna have 2 click on this for quality purposes but um. official oc redesign :) if u follow my main u mightve heard of this guy! i was gonna make a megapost of oc facts there but i might as well put them here

kofi

basic info

his birthday is july 23rd!

works as security for a popular nightclub & isnt afraid to be rougher with more rowdy or unsavory patrons

has contact with one or more dangerous groups who he sends the sleaziest customers to. they are later seen heavily bruised and some allegedly missing. dante denies any involvement

he likes dressing in dark, neutral tones but often decorates with dark reds, black, and greys

his favorite color is sanguine red! hates yellow for no reason

farsighted & thinks his glasses get in the way but is too squeamish to wear contacts (hates having things in his eyes)

smokes cigarettes on occasion if hes particularly stressed/upset or after a tough fight. may do it socially if he enjoys the company

interests

enjoys riling random people up to taunt them into starting fights with him. never throws the first punch or explicitly asks for a fight to claim plausible deniability. prefers street fighting for the lack of regulations

big interest in woodwork, primarily whittling. has abt a dozen small figures he whittled himself. occasionally works on larger projects like making new furniture. can be persuaded into commissioned work

collects pocket knives, often for backup in case a fight goes south but the more decorative ones are just for show

works out fairly frequently, focused on building & maintaining strength & stamina

heavily prefers hot tea to coffee. will drink coffee if he absolutely has to, but he hates the taste so he dilutes it with lots of cream, sugar, & other flavors. rarely adds things to his tea

personality

he tends to be cynical about most adults, but has an extreme soft spot for animals and small children. will go out of his way to aid an animal or child in need. does not want kids of his own, however

can be kind of hotheaded & rude at times, depending on the situation. usually pretty patient otherwise

believes in his morals very strongly & sticks to them with unwavering resolve. nearly impossible to change his mind on most things

introverted but definitely not shy. has a low social battery & gets irritable if he cant be alone to recharge

not good at showing anything he perceives to be vulnerability & has to trust someone a lot to let his guard down at all

similarly, not good at openly showing affection. he prefers to show it more subtly thru acts of service & spending time with people he cares about. he also tolerates & adapts to his loved ones means of showing affection, such as allowing his best friend, greyson, to be touchier than anyone else

misc trivia

has a a german shepherd named bruno who he personally helped rescue. after turning bruno over to a local rescue shelter, dante kept checking in on the recovery until he was ready to be adopted

will not walk bruno without a harness

has had his nose fractured at least twice. has also been hit in the face with a broken bottle at work, causing some of his facial scars

his other scars come from a variety of things such as fights, accidents from his dog, accidents from his housemates cat, & whittling & woodworking accidents. some are from trying to do knife tricks but he would never admit it

only eats ethically sourced animal products & refuses any he doesnt know the source of. also refuses to own genuine animal-skin products so all his stuff is artificial

swears a lot by habit. sometimes for emphasis but most of the time it just slips. makes an effort not to swear in front of kids

lives with his best friend, greyson. appreciates greysons sense of humor & shared fondness for animals. impressed by his sleight of hand & mask collection (greyson thinks dantes knife collection is cooler). teaches greyson how to whittle when they both have time (greyson just wants to make little animals)

greyson is a thief & dante doesnt respect the law enough to care abt his thefts as long as it doesnt affect him personally

[yuulina-vre]

Therapy - Two

Pairing: Steve x Bucky, Platonic Stucky

Summary: When Bucky returned from his service, there were many things different about him. An arm less, metal baggage more. What stays is his loving husband that tries to help him through life again and images he'd rather forget

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.6k

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

The morning starts as every ordinary one. She gets up, cleans herself, and gets dressed in her favorite pair of jeans and a shirt. She puts her hair up into a ponytail before she walks out of her room and down to the cafeteria. The food's not that great but better than nothing. Besides, she's way too lazy to attempt to make her own breakfast. But still, how do you manage to mess up buns? After breakfast, she makes her way to the cages, where the dogs sleep at night, to tidy up a bit. Some of her furry fellas are just like children, scattering their toys through the whole room, not bothering to clean them up. Why bother? There's always a human who does that.

Two of her friends are still in their cages, happily wagging their tales as she approaches. "Hey, hello. Good morning to you too." She laughs as one puppy licks her face happily. Her hands stroke wildly over the soft black fur. The other puppy whines, demanding some attention as well. "Alright, alright. Do you two want to go for a walk? Yes?" She smiles at the happy barking and walks away to get the collars and leashes from the spare room. "Remember. Stay close to me, and don't run off."

"Hello, Y/N." a young girl greets her as she leaves the shelter, and Y/N waves at her. "Still talking to them as if it were kids?"

"They are, and I'm sure they understand very well what I want. They just don't care." Y/N grins at the girl, waves her goodbye, and takes her two puppies out for their morning walk and first training session of the day. The walk lasts almost an hour, maybe a little more since she throws some playtime in, but all in all, she's satisfied. Both of her friends behaved pretty well today.

Back at the facility, she sends the puppies to the play area outside before she occupies herself with three hours of training. She grabs some of the new puppies and tires just to show them the fundamental trick like sit, stay, and so on. She's just about to teach a small Golden Retriever how to lay down on command as a voice call over to her. "Y/N! Can you come to my office?" Turning around, she sees Greta waving from her window with a bright smile, her pink shirt reflecting in the sun, getting even brighter, and baths her surroundings in a faint pink hue. Greta's always one for bright colors, and Y/N likes that. It always gives people some hope or makes them a bit happier, even if it's unconsciously. You couldn't lose the woman even if you tried. Smiling to herself, she turns back to the tiny puppies. "Come on, Scarlet, let's get you to the others. You did very well today. You too, Layla. Yes, Charlie. You as well." She coos at the small dogs and leads them away to the playpen in a secluded corner of the garden, where some other puppies are already toppling over each other. She gives them a treat before letting them go, hanging their harnesses back into the spare room on her way inside. In front of Greta's office, she knocks but doesn't wait for a reply. She knows Greta long enough to know that she doesn't have any people in there around this time. Great's first appointments only start around twelve because she likes to read through the information she got beforehand and prepare herself as best as she can to provide the best help possible. "Hey, what's up?" Smiling, she walks in, patting Bruno, the old Bernese that hangs out with Greta from time to time, before she flops into one of the chairs in front of her desk. Bruno follows her but drops to the floor next to the chair. Y/N makes a small effort to lean a bit more to her right so that her hand still touches his head a little. She continues with small motions through his soft fur and listens to the sound of a tail happily flopping against the floor. "Y/N. I think we found a match." Greta smiles at her, looking all giddy. A cold rush runs over her back, and Y/N has to swallow. "W-what do you mean?"

"We have a veteran coming in later today. His husband called, and from what he said, you could be the perfect match. He seems a bit grumpy, but all the triggers suit your training perfectly. I want to introduce you before lunch." Greta keeps on smiling, though for Y/N, her world shift drastically. "So, what you're saying is- This might be my last day?"

"It might, yes. Though I don't think he'll take you home right away. I have the feeling this one needs a little more speaking to." Greta doesn't see Y/N's utter shock. And she understands. Usually, this is a happy matter. Something you are happy about, but for Y/N, it's different. For a very good reason. The thing is, she isn't just a human. She's a shifter. A human that's able to shift into an animal. The animal lives inside her like a second person in one body. When she's human, her inner animal is somewhere in the back of her mind; if she's an animal, it's her human that's in the back. Luckily, they get along just fine. Some people don't get along with their inner animal. When Y/N shifts, she's a dog and a dog only. It's not like the stories where a shifter can be whatever he wants, no. You only get one animal, but no one knows who chooses which one it will be. Her mother is a dog, her uncle is a cat, and her aunt is a ferret. It seems like there's no pattern.

It isn't easy to be a shifter in a society where no one knows they exist. There are two ways you can live. Way one: You abandon and suppress your own need to shift. You find a regular job and a spouse and leave your dream of ever having a family because explaining being a shifter might be too complex and drive your loved one away. Also, it might look strange if you suddenly have a litter of cats in the living room where your kids played seconds ago.

Way two: You find a job in a facility created for shifters. There are several; some assign themselves for police duty or war; others are rescue animals or, like Y/N, get trained to be a therapy animal. You get comfy in these facilities and live through your training with the knowledge that you will probably never be able to shift to a human being again and live as an animal. This would also end in never seeing your real family anymore.

None of these ways are fair for them, but there isn't much of a choice if you don't want to be the freak of your village or to be killed by people denying you the right to be alive. Sure, not everybody's that cruel. Greta's a great example of that. There are humans, normal people, that don't freak when they learn about shifters and living with them, even loving one. People who aren't disgusted or afraid of the knowledge. But those are far and few, and the stories are even fewer. So, most shifters reside in either way one or two. Y/N chose way two. She doesn't have much of a family left. There's only her mother, and she has decided to be trained as a therapy dog for kids in a hospital. Y/N hasn't seen her since she turned twenty-one and stepped into her own training. Besides, she wants to have a family one day, but if it means abandoning her inner dog then it's not worth it. That's how she finds herself working at a facility that trains shifters to be service animals, primarily for veterans. This way, she can help people, and if she gets lucky and her human leaves the house without her, she can change to be human for a few hours. And even more so, she might get lucky and find one of those rare persons who like having a shifter around. You can always dream.

But still, it comes rather sudden. She doesn't feel fully prepared and still hasn't done all the things she swore she wanted to do before being fully employed. "Well, I think there's no out then." It's a lame joke, but Greta laughs, reaching over to pat her hand. "Give him a chance, dear. You might be surprised."

"Sure." She mutters under her breath, silently preparing herself for this day to be the last one in freedom or one of the many rejections she got so far.

Y/N is running around with some of her friends, tolling and chasing each other. Not all dogs are shifters, but her inner dog doesn't mind that much, and Y/N doesn't, either. She's just tackled to the ground with playful barks from her friend as a whistle followed by her name sounds over to them. Y/N's head instantly perks up, directed to where she sees Greta standing. She wriggles away from her friend, who looks a bit heartbroken that she dares to leave him at their fun time, but Y/N's on duty now. With a short bark, she runs up to Great, dutifully stopping in front of her and sitting down with a slowly wagging tail. Her tongue lolls out in a happy grin, as happy as a dog can look at least. "This is Y/N." Greta motions to her, stroking her head tenderly with adoration in her eyes. "She's here the longest. Since she was just a little pup, she's our best-behaved dog around." Y/N looks next to Greta, noticing a brunette and blonde man. Both are very well built, and she could picture herself flirting with them under other circumstances and maybe in another life. Sadly, that's not an option she has in her life. At least not for now.

The brunette man looks down at her, and Y/N notices his steel-blue eyes. They shine with a sheen of sadness and annoyance, which doesn't make them less beautiful. It looks like he was near tears at some point since they are a bit red. She wonders briefly if he's even up to a dog. He certainly doesn't look like a dog person. Or as if he wants to be here at all. His hands stay firmly put in his jacket pockets, eyes never wavering from her. Y/N makes it her duty to stare right back, trying to find the slightest crack in his facade. No one can resist the charm of a dog. Though, it seems this man could be the first one. However, the other man is the total opposite. As soon as she came over, he started shifting and grinning, clearly happy about her and itching to pat her. "Hello, Y/N." He crouches down and holds out his hand for her to sniff. For a second, she's tempted to ignore him, but apparently, he has the same charm a puppy has and is hard to resist. So, she humors him and finds his smell surprisingly pleasant. It's some kind of woodsy, mixed with his aftershave. It makes her tingle with a warm feeling. She licks his palm with a happy tail wag and scoots a bit closer to make it easier for the blonde to pat her. He's instantly all in, using both hands up and down her body. Y/N finds herself overthrown with pleasure, panting in happiness. It only takes a few seconds to flop to her back and beg for belly rubs which the blonde eagerly supplies. She loves belly rubs. "Aren't you a cute one?"

"She is. She's one of our cuddliest, too. I think she would be well suited to guide you through the day." Greta agrees quickly, still smiling before she turns entirely to the brunette. "I noticed that you're a bit apprehensive about getting a dog. I mean, you voiced it very clearly, too. We also have cats around, but from what you described, I think Y/N here would be the best match. You don't have to decide just yet." She smiles kindly at the brunette, but Y/N sees that he's not responding. At least he's blinking now. "I would offer you the chance to come by every day the following week to get to know her better, take her on walks and play with her. Then you can decide. I can show you other dogs as well if you like more options. If you do decide to try with her, I have some more information we can discuss later on." Through all the pleasure, she still manages to gaze at the other man. He looks pretty uncomfortable, more of the silent type too. He just shakes his head and watches the blonde providing her with strokes. So, he's the one Greta has assigned to her. Grumpy was an understatement. With a heavy heart, she rolls around, away from the pleasure provided to sit back up. She ignores the blonde's small sad 'aw' and steps up to the brunette. Sniffing him for a few seconds, she finds he inhabits the same smell as the blonde's aftershave. Right, they're husbands. But there's something else mixed into it. Like earth and metal. Hard to determine. The brunette still refuses to touch her, so Y/N's set on taking matters in hand. Even if he doesn't choose her, she will crack this stubborn bastard and make him pat her. So, in a swift move, she changes her weight on her back legs, front paws against the brunette's chest to sniff him further. She manages a tiny lick to his jaw before Greta takes her collar and pulls her away. "Y/N! Your manners! No jumping." Whimpering in understanding, she sits back down, still staring at the brunette. Greta shakes her head with a sigh, directing a kind and apologetic smile at the tall man. "She's probably trying to get you to pet her. She thinks no one can resist her charm."

"Charm she has." The blonde laughs, hand on his chest while the other claps the brunette on his shoulder. To confirm it, Y/N lets out a happy bark; eyes still fixed on the brunette man. He is still watching her, though Y/N's not sure if it's a good or bad sign. She carefully shuffles forward again, pressing herself against his leg, and carefully licks his wrist. She feels the fingers twitch in their hideout, and his body tense. For a second, she's not sure if he will flinch away from her, but her worries are blown away as his fingers softly glide over her head. The touch is almost not noticeable, but he does it. Her tail goes crazy then, happily thumbing and swishing against the floor. And maybe she sits up an inch straighter to feel the pressure of his hand. "What do you say, Buck?"

"I-I…" The man stutters for a moment, still tense and petting her. He doesn't seem that sure about getting a dog or about her particularly, but then he nods. "W-we can try." It's more of a whisper, but Greta hears him nonetheless. "Wonderful." She claps her hands and gives a hand motion for Y/N that indicates her to stay at the man's feet at all times for now. She does stay close to the brunette, careful not to press too much on his leg but be close enough that he knows she's there. They walk back through the hallways and into Greta's office, where Y/N happily sits beside the brunette, though she does squeeze herself between the chairs the men sit in. It earns her a raised eyebrow from Greta and a chuckle from the blonde, whose hand instantly finds its way into her fur once again. "Why's she here so long?" The question is silent and a bit surprising. The brunette hasn't uttered more than a sentence before. He seems concerned that Y/N's a grown dog and has been here for a long time. Greta clears her throat and waves Y/N over to a door. She knows what's happening now, having done that more times than she cares to count. That is the reason why she's still here. It's the only thing she ever asked of Greta. "Y/N is special. You might have heard of it before. It's not that common and most people don't like the idea, find it creepy or… disgusting." Greta looks over to Y/N, who's sitting by a slightly ajar door. The older woman nods, and Y/N vanishes behind it, still listening to Great's words. "Have you ever heard of shifters?"

"Shifters?" That's the blonde's voice. "I have." The brunette confirms though his voice doesn't show any sign of how he thinks about it. Does he like it? Does he find it weird? "Well, Y/N is a shifter. Normally shifters that get here are introduced as whichever animal is theirs. Not more or less. They have chosen this path, though I admit they don't have much choice. Usually, it goes well with the human they get assigned to. They do have a chance to decide if they want to go with them or not. Y/N's a bit different. She asked for one favor of me, which is introducing her as a shifter, which entails introducing her not only as a dog but as a human. Y/N, come on in." That's Y/N's cue; she quickly shifts and puts on whatever clothes Greta had laid out for her before carefully peeking through the door and walking out. Both men seem confused but curious; the blonde has a faint blush on his cheeks.

For a moment, Y/N's thoughts cross the bridge that always ends badly. He is embarrassed, getting aware he just patted a girl and cooed at her, though she was in dog form. "Hello." Y/N nods politely, walking over to Greta and pulling a small stool from under the table to sit beside her friend. "You see, most people don't take Y/N with them because they find it embarrassing, gross, you name it. But Y/N is very hard working, never asking for anything and caring for herself and the human that will choose her in the end. She's not less a therapy dog as any other and just as much human as you and me." Y/N nods to confirm it and chimes in. "I'll do my work as asked, and before you get all embarrassed," she looks at the blonde with a small genuine smile. "When I'm a dog, I have the instinct of a dog. I like being patted, and love belly rubs. I have my consciousness in the back of my mind for when I know when to shift and so on, but... It's like two persons in one body." The blonde nods, but his blush remains. Y/N gifts him another smile before she directs her gaze to the brunette. He doesn't show any emotion, and Y/N is left asking herself if he's feeling overwhelmed. "I do have one favor to ask, though, in case you might try with me." Her eyes stay on the brunette man that now eyes her curiously. "I like to be human, too. I don't mind being a dog all day, though I would like to be human at night if you don't mind. I want to stroll around a bit and do just things humans do." She shrugs and smiles a bit, feeling ridiculous to explain it.

Even more so since the blonde's still blushing and the brunette continues staring. "Should you need me at night, I'm not against shifting, but I don't want to give up my human side."

"Wait. Giving up your human side?" She nods. "You see, shifters have a few choices, though they aren't much. We can either work in a facility that trains and sells animals, like this one, as a therapy animals. However, that means giving up on living a human life since most people aren't… fond of us. It's just because almost no one knows we exist. The second option is just reversed. We can find a job, a guy or girl to be together and get a family with, though it might be hard to explain when the kids suddenly run around as pups. That would entail giving up on your inner animal. There is another one, but this one is not realistic. Hence why I'm still here." The brunette - Buck? - lays his head at an angle. He looks confused, and… is that anger? "What's that option." Y/N's eyes switch to Greta, who nods encouragingly. "It would be the preferable one for me. Managing to have my job as a therapy dog while also being able to live a human life whenever I want." She stares for a moment into the blue eyes of the brunette man, not knowing what else to say or to do. It does feel awkward as the silence fills the room. No one says something. It makes Y/N feel like another failed attempt at finding a permanent home. However, she would be okay with living here and training the tiny pups. She's startled from her thoughts as a voice breaks the silence. "I'd like to try."

[ask-spidersisters]

Tara had to bring Furby along their little adventure because Teddy refused to dog sit her for a few minutes. “Your dog, your responsibility,” is what he told her. He sounded like a parent. She scoffed and said fine and put Furby in her new harness and clipped on her leash and went out the door. However, Furby looks fabulous in her sparkly pink harness, so that made Tara feel a little bit better. Walking on the sidewalk with Furby walking (almost running) ahead of her but since this dog was so small, she couldn’t get too far or pull at the leash roughly enough to yank Tara forward, so it was kind of pathetic.

“You’re positive this time that the spider girls are in the apartment?”

“Were you not paying attention when I was checking the blog?” Tara said, rolling her eyes as she came upon the apartment building and opened the front door, letting Furby in first,

“They’re here, we just gotta get past their uncle.”

“We’re not going to be able to get past their uncle after we kidnapped him that one time.”

“You were the one that came out without the signal,” Tara mentioned as she climbed the stairs, Furby falling down one and whining until Tara picked her up under her arm like a football and kept climbing up,

“Now, we need to face the consequences and say sorry,”

“And get information,”

“Yeah, that too.”

Tara stopped as she stood in front of the apartment door. She was surprised that they fixed the building so quickly… well… poorly… the walls were discolored and some rooms were out of order. They probably kicked a few people out after their apartments got ruined. Her stomach sank a bit. She shook her head and looked at the door again. Tara set down Furby, who was now spinning in circles after realizing she had a tail she could chase, and rapped at the door with her knuckles.

It took a few seconds, but that same man that she and Karma had… borrowed… that one time was standing in front of them. This time, he wasn’t happy. He stared at them for a few seconds in silence… then at the dog that was making strange strangled noises and quiet barks as she chased her tail. He blinked a few times. Then he looked up at Tara.

“What do you want?” He said flatly.

“Heyyyyyyyyyy-“ Tara lifted a hand and gave a short, slow, awkward wave, “so uh… sorry about last time uh… that was not my fault, I did not choose to be possessed by an alien-“

“Excuse you?”

Tara inhaled slowly, then continued, “I just wanted to apologize for taking you and I will do anything to make up for that… I have money,” oh god, that sounded like I was trying to bribe him… which I sort of am, but still, “but now, I sort of have to talk to your nieces about something really qui-“

“No,” Nikos crossed his arms over his chest, standing in the doorway and blocking Tara’s way in,

“Your apology is…” he paused, “I’ll think about it,” he said in that same flat tone, “but you will not be seeing my nieces.”

Tara furrowed her brows, she opened her mouth to speak but she was cut off,

“They don’t need to be taken on another random vigilante journey! You teens need to find something more worthwhile to do than always get in trouble.”

“That’s not-“

“You are not seeing my nieces. End. Of. Story.”

Silence… besides the dog still making strangled noises.

Tara blinked, fiddling with her fingers clasped in front of her, “What if I-“

Nikos had already closed the door on her.

Another pause.

“Breaking in?”

“Yeah…”

(+)

Athena took out her earbuds when she felt the vibrations of the door slamming shut. She unstuck herself from the ceiling and dropped onto the floor, walking out of her room to see her uncle putting the three locks (he had bought two more after a… certain incident..) in place.

“Uh. Everything ok?”

Nikos turned quickly, changing his expression from anger to calm. That wasn’t reassuring.

“Yes everything’s fine ‘Thena.”

Athena obviously wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t want to push for more. She knew her uncle was trying his best to make her comfortable after her encounters with the Red Room. She also knew if it was extremely serious he would let her know. She shrugged.

“Okay. I’ll be in my room.”

Nikos quickly grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, throwing it over at her, which she caught easily.

“Here, stay hydrated. And do you need new bandages for your head?”

Athena shook her head.

“No, it’s almost closed up now. Dr. Cho took the stitches out earlier today, remember?”

Nikos nodded.

“Right, sorry sweetheart, just worried.”

Athena smiled.

“I know Θείο. Thanks.”

He smiled back before she closed the door and walked back into her room, plopping down on the edge of her bed and putting the water bottle on her desk.

She picked up her phone again to look at herself with the camera. Overall she actually didn’t look that bad today. She had brushed her hair, her wound on her forehead was smaller and less red, and her face was less pale. Though her outfit could use a bit of work. She was wearing the first pair of sweatpants she had grabbed from her closet, along with the first shirt, which was a plain white one with the Stark Industries logo on it. The finishing touch, the gray vest from Yelena. She had worn it everyday since she was given it. She took out a spider drone from one of the pockets.

These pockets are really useful, Yelena is onto something.

She got up and walked to sit by her desk, where she decided to work on some more darts to replenish her stock.

(+)

Karma crawled up Tara’s arms, her fingertips turning into redish pink claws. She was able to slide out the window at the end of the hallway and just climb from the side of the building. As for Furby? Karma was just holding her by the harness with one hand and to be honest, Furby didn’t seem to mind that much. Yet again, Furby always looked like she was having war flashbacks, so it was hard to tell. After a little walk scaling, Tara saw a window and from where she was, it looked like the room she broke into last time, so of course, Karma was able to scoot her a bit to the side, Furby sort of just hanging there.

Tara then had to open the window from the outside, no biggie. Apartment windows never locked properly. However, Karma was holding onto the side of the building while in her other hand holding Furby.

“Well… uh… oh! I got it! Just put the dog on the windowsill, we have the leash in case she falls!”

“Makes sense to me.”

Karma wrapped the leash around her wrist and slowly lowered the dog down on the windowsill. Furby sort of just… stood there… shaking oddly as all chihuahuas do (disclaimer: please don’t do this with an actual dog). Karma freed one of Tara’s hands and she bent down to lift the window up and slid inside.

Yep, right place, there’s Athena.

“Wow, that took way more effort than needed,” Tara stretched her arms over her head, Karma retreated and freed her other hand.

Tara reached over on the windowsill and grabbed Furby off the ledge and plopped her on the floor.

“So, how’s it hanging, spider girl?”

(+)

When Athena’s spider sense went off she was 100% ready to immediately punch the thing that was about to make its way in through her window. But, the sight of Tara and Karma crawling into her room with a weird, small brown, hairy chihuahua made her pause.

“So how’s it hanging, spider girl?”

Athena blankly stared at Tara, a flurry of emotions welling up inside of herself, but the most prominent one holding them back was just utter confusion. She pointed at the hairy ball on the floor.

“Tara. What the fuck is that, and why is it in my room?”

(+)

Tara sighed, her hands now on her hips, “Yeah, Teddy wouldn’t dog sit, so I had to bring her. She’s cute, right?” She leaned down and picked up the dog under its arms and held her up.

“I found her in a dumpster, but Karma didn’t want to eat her because she was too hairy.”

Furby made another strangled noise and Tara set her down again. The dog stood there, shaking with wide eyes and her tongue sticking out.

“Anyway,” she pulled her long hair out of her face, “I came because ya know, I sort of need some information, but you weren’t responding to my calls or texts so I assumed you blocked my number,”

(+)

Athena managed to take her eyes off the ‘dog’ to look back at Tara.

“Oh, you don’t say.”

She really didn’t feel like explaining her entire impromptu journey/ kidnapping right now, especially to Tara of all people. Also, she did in fact block her number.

“And anyway, what makes you think I would relay any information to you?”

(+)

“Come on,” Tara raised a brow, “it’s not anything you really care about anyways,”

She hummed, how was she going to go about this?

“You’re close with some of the Avengers, aren’t you? You became some sort of intern that one time,” she pointed out, “I’m looking at SHIELD. They’re getting a bit on my nerves lately and,” she scoffed, “you know how Karma is when someone gets on our nerves.”

(+)

Athena sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose.

“Ok first off, I’m not an ‘Avenger intern’. That was just Stark running his mouth and trying to be in the spotlight. Second, why should I care that SHIELD is getting on your parasite’s nerves? What the fuck did you expect? Running around eating people.”

Athena's nose wrinkled in annoyance, and of slight discomfort as the memory of the V252 encounter came to the forefront of her mind.

(+)

Tara’s eyes narrowed, yet again, she wasn’t expecting this encounter to be easy per say. “SHIELD isn’t doing this on their own,” Tara said, “they would never, they could care less because as long as heroes like you are out there, all they need to do is watch you,” she chuckled and shook her head,

“No, SHIELD is with Oscorp labs,” she said flatly, “and Oscorp wants Karma and Ravage.”

(+)

Athena paused.

“Wait. Oscorp?”

She pressed her lips together and looked off to the right. The memory of the field trip that started this entire mess flashed in front of her eyes.

Fuck, of course it’s Oscorp. What did you really think they’d stop at genetically enhanced spiders?

(+)

That got her attention, Tara thought, holding down a chuckle,

“Yeah, where did you think Karma and Ravage came from? The gutter or something?” She rolled her eyes and straightened her posture,

“Ok, that’s not the point. My point is that Oscorp is teaming up with SHIELD to do some messed up shit. There’s something sketchy going on and I need to get my brother out of here if something happens.”

(+)

Athena’s brows furrowed before she finally regained control of her expressions and cleared her face. She leaned back in her chair.

“Okay. And how do I know you’re not lying to mess with me or some shit?”

(+)

“Look on the fucking news, Athena”

(+)

Athena’s neutral expression broke as she ran a hand down her face, sighing in frustration.

“Well I’ve been kinda busy being kidnapped by the Red Room to notice!”

She took a deep breath to calm herself.

(+)

Tara’s face fell, “Oh…” a pause… “What's a Red Room?”

(+)

“Evil underground Russian organization-“

Athena shook her head.

“Wait no, forget it. Okay.”

She sighed.

“And what info do you think I even have for… this?”

(+)

Tara shrugged, “I mean, you were the only option I had and well, some Avengers have to hate SHIELD or something. I can’t get in there because well…” she hummed, “you know. I just need some sort of file or lead on this Oscorp and SHIELD team up. You’re good with tech right? Your sister also?”

(+)

Athena thought it over in her head.

Course, I can never catch a break.

“Yeah. Alright. I’ll ask Thalia to see what she can find from their servers. But, if we find something, you cannot just start going on a rampage in their facilities. I’ll just make this whole situation worse. We need to be subtle about this.”

(+)

“Being subtle is bullshit,”

“Of course,”

“Fuck you, bitch!”

“We sort of have to lay low anyways,” Tara said, one of her arms falling to the side,

“SHIELD is now chasing after our tails, even with Ravage. I can’t let Teddy know I’m doing this.”

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

Meanwhile, Furby was still on the floor, waddling around and bumping into things.

(+)

Athena raised a brow at the stubborn symbiote.

“Tear him apart!”

Athena pushed the memory back down into its designated hole before it could continue, forcing herself to stay in the moment.

“Just, keep your parasite under control. If this gets fucked up and it gets caught I won’t promise that I’ll bail it out.”

(+)

“Call me a parasite again and I’m tearing your uncle in half.”

“You will not tear anyone in half,” Tara hissed back at the symbiote hovering over her shoulder.

Karma hissed and decided to leave the conversation because she’s just like that. She disappeared behind Tara’s back. Tara rolled her eyes and groaned, her brows furrowed,

“Karma won’t do anything stupid, she knows what we’re facing… we need this.”

(+)

Athena relaxed a bit when the symbiote disappeared.

“Alright then…. Do you mind leaving now and uh…”

Athena looked down at the dog as it bumped into the wall.

“Taking your pet with you?”

(+)

“Her name is Furby,” Tara said defensively, picking up Furby, who was lying on her side on the floor, giving up on life.

She took the dog under her arm,

“Text or call me when you find something!”

Tara climbed out the window and straight up just jumped, Karma scraping the side of the building to break their fall.

Tara was now standing in an alleyway, setting Furby down again.

“That went well,”

“Yeah… sure…”

Tara tugged on the leash and Furby, after a few moments of processing what the fuck just happened, started trotting along the pavement again like nothing happened with Tara in tow.

Collab with @symbiote-siblings Tara and Karma (and Furby)

[alldogkennels]

Are Dog Harnesses Good?

Dog harnesses can be a good choice for many dogs, depending on their size, breed, and specific needs. Here are some reasons why dog harnesses can be beneficial:

Control: Harnesses offer better control over your dog, especially if they tend to pull on the leash. The harness distributes pressure across your dog's chest and back, reducing the risk of choking or injury compared to a collar.

Reduced Neck Strain: Unlike collars, which can put strain on a dog's neck and trachea when they pull, harnesses distribute the force evenly across the chest and shoulders, reducing the risk of injury.

Training Aid: Harnesses can be useful for training purposes. They give you more control during training exercises, such as teaching your dog to walk politely on a leash.

Safety: For small dogs or dogs with delicate necks, harnesses can be a safer option. They prevent injury to the trachea or neck that can occur when a dog pulls while wearing a collar.

Escape Prevention: Some dogs are skilled at slipping out of collars, especially if they have a narrow head or are particularly wiggly. Harnesses are less likely to come off accidentally.

Health Considerations: If your dog has health issues or is recovering from surgery, a harness may be recommended by your veterinarian to prevent further injury.

However, it's important to choose the right type of harness for your dog's specific needs. There are various types of harnesses, including back-clip, front-clip, and no-pull harnesses, each designed for different purposes. Additionally, ensure that the harness is the correct size and properly fitted to your dog to prevent discomfort or chafing.

While harnesses have many advantages, they may not be suitable for every dog or situation. Some dogs, especially those with certain behavioral issues or health concerns, may benefit more from a collar or other restraint methods. It's essential to consider your dog's individual needs and consult with a veterinarian or a professional dog trainer if you're unsure which type of restraint is best for your dog.