#woof ... arf arf ... bark bark bark ... no one read this

[sea-lanterns]

Oh! I just finished reading The Purge fic and I- GRRRR COLUMBINA ARF ARF WOOF WOOF WOOF BARK GROWL HISS WOOF WOOF GROWLING, SHAKING, BEGGING ON MY KNEES KANXKABXJSBJDV. It was a very wonderful and satisfying read, I love it sm. Gotten be one of my favorites in this blog. Haha, have a great day/night Angry🫶

HEHEHEHE I AM GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT!

Also Columbina supremacy!! Although her in game model isn’t confirmed yet, I have always seen Columbina as a short woman, SO SHORT DOM WOMEN SUPREMACY! She deserved to tease and throttle the Reader around like the other girls, we stan 👑

Actually, if Columbina were left alone with Reader she would use 100% of her dom power without Sandrone or Signora to scold her 😅

[starwriterulia]

Perversity and Loathing - Chapter 3

CONTAINS HEAVY SUBJECT MATERIAL THAT MAY TRIGGER READERS WITH ANXIETY, DEPRESSION AND PTSD. SOME CHAPTERS CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT.

WHILE THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT CONTAIN NSFW SCENES, IT DOES CONTAIN DISCUSSION OF MATURE CONTENT THAT IS UNSUITABLE FOR MINORS.

This is a reboot of Tomb of the Goshenite Stargazer Dragon. (post)

Fandoms: DC Comics, Batfamily, Thalassic Space (OC)

Characters (In order of appearance): Bruce Wayne (Batman), Barbara Gordon (Batgirl), Dick Grayson (Nightwing), Faith Lawson (self-insert), Ghouls (Nero Spirits in the form of jumspcare people), Nerobzal (OC, Fallen Angel, big bad guy of Thalassic Space), Clark Kent (Superman)

Word Count: 3327

TW: Spooky content warning, and the things that the entity who appears in the kitchen says some pretty dark stuff regarding Faith. Please correct me if I missed anything!

A/N: Holy shit, I fucking cooked. I found a little continuity error in the last chapter, lol. I forgot about the notepad, pencil and pencilcase of pencil crayons that Batman fetched for Faith. He has now put them on the bed, and they just stay there. :p Also, part of Chapter 4 is already written, since I realised the important events of this chapter ended when Bruce when into the servery to finish talking over the phone to Clark in private lol. Chapter 4 will be cozy, but I tell my real life story to explain why the others feel like something is off, so, uh, proceed with caution!

Tag list in the replies of people who liked/reblogged any part of the previous version of this story, or the previous chapter(s). You’re not obliged to read or leave a comment. Thank you for reading! ^w^

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 (Coming soon...)

The kitchen was dark and the pantry door was silent. Although no one looked, it was obvious that the sunlight from the window had become moonlight. Batman had stepped forward from the door, and stood behind and slightly to the left of Faith, looking down at her. She looked directly in front of her, in the space betwen Nightwing's left arm and Batgirl's right arm. Nightwing and Batgirl looked at the wall.

A dog's heavy panting approached the window from the left. Upon the window, thump, splurch. Thump, splurch, thump, squick! "Bark, woof! Grrr... rarf! Rarf, arf, rarf! Snarl... snort." A soft thwick of tail hitting glass.

Batman counted: one. Two. Three. Four. A cluster of bare feet, pad, timp, pad-pad, and fingernails, scritch, scrrrr, scritch, came into the kitchen. Pad, pad.

"Scraawk!" Click, click of the tongue. Timp timp, timp, pad.

"Scrrr?"

"Scrawk!" Thud, thud! Near the island. Scrape, rrrrip! "SKYAW!"

"SCRAW!"

"ENOUGH!" Boomed a bass voice from the doorway. Faith's loins tickled, and she hated it.

Two. Three. Four. Critch, critch, critch. Critch, critch critch! Click, click of the tongue. Slurrrrp. Smack, smack of the lips. Two pairs of neon orange eyes gazing at each other slowly came into the view of the humans, the heads of the Ghouls illuminated by the window. They snapped and stared at Nightwing and Batgirl.

Do you remember the time the light of your past burned hot, and you were alone with the noise?

I remember that light, and its heat, my feet on the platform but my paralysed body flying at an impossible speed to the sun and starting to orbit to present Earth with a divine spectacle, how the screams rang in my ears. But I didn't stay there. I was embraced by a man who did his best, for his first dance under a different light, and both of us developed from our time together. I made the best friends and found both of the dearest loves that I will ever have. We dance in the light, golden day or silver night, in any weather, for the people who need us, and we dance for each other, sometimes. We dance for people like the woman you seem so eager to control, a woman who has struggled with control her whole life and seems to have found it, before you itched at her subconscious until you found a perfect monster to bring you to life. When I am the only light in a scene of dread and sorrow, I burn those like you, who have burned others and refuse to change their bulb or turn it off. Get out of my head.

Hiss. Snarl. Spit! Well, fine. Be that way.

Do you remember the time your heart was pulled at its roots, and you were alone to weep at its ruin?

I remember that love, and the pain, the pure chaos that shredded my shelter like the people I swore to protect with every once of strength in my body who I could only help using my intellect, the passive loss of worth I felt every day, how my love became the half of me that had been made useless and numb. But it did not last. I could still move my other half. I saved my life and the lives of others even like that. I am priviledged to be called "the best" or "my favourite" by many. In fact, I think I met someone who dyed their hair to be like me, today. I was not abandoned by those who care for me, and I never neglected myself when my roots were torn from beneath me. My love and roots were mended and made stronger, and now I save my tears for those who need it. Get out of my head!

Hiss. Snarl. Spit! Well, fine. Be that way.

Do you remember━?

"I always remember." Batman said. Faith gasped and turned her eyes and head to Batman. Their gaze lasted for a short second. A tall black figure, glowing neon red, with neon red eyes, briskly came from the doorway and stood in front of Faith, making Nightwing stumble.

A Ghoul swiftly extended its neck, crick, and followed Nightwing with a grossly opening jaw, but the hero planted himself as soon as he had been unstabilised. The Ghoul retreated and snapped its teeth at the other Ghoul, that snarled. The first Ghoul began a high pitch, "Scr━!"

The glowing figure whipped its left arm up, grabbing the head of the whining Ghoul and making it shut up. The glowing figure brought the Ghoul to its face, the figure's mouth suddenly opening down to the floor. The figure violently stuffed the Ghoul in its mouth, and swallowed it with a grotesque crunch and squelch.

"Go home." Said the figure. The remaining Ghoul, critch, critch, critch critch, thump! Timp timp, pad-pad, timp. "Here, boy." The window broke, and something with four legs, thump thump, thump, pant, pant, pant. Slurrrrp, pant, pant. "Spread the word."

The white paws of the dog sprang onto Faith's shoulders, its weight making her stagger, and its human smile and dark canine eyes stared into her eyes. The figure said, "You remember me, right, wife?" Faith parted her lips, a distinct suck-click sound made. The dog removed its paws, and sat, panting at the right foot of the figure.

"The dreams where I was human, dark haired, fair skinned, wearing clothes that you like, and I pierced the illusion's face in places that you like, too. I even made a blonde, fair skinned woman for you to have, dressed just like me. The dream where I showed you the inside of my loins, designed to breed you, and I fucked you there until you came with me, and you awoke. The dream where I was a black storm cloud, and you rubbed your sweet little cunt on my massive penis that dwarfed you. Your virgin juices dripped onto my member, and the one squirt of sperm I released was so colossal that you awoke. No more waking up with your dignity and secret. I am sorry your choice was taken from you, wife. But it is time to come home."

"'Where is home?', I hear the furious minds of these mortals shout. I will tell them. And they will hate you. But you don't have to be alone, after the truth is shared. You will come with me through Platonia to the Greatest Room, and in nine months, you will birth the Impossible Child. You will name him, and it will be the most perfect name. You are a creative woman, after all."

"Not a genius, no. If you were, you would have shown the Hallway your vagina to let me fuck you. Brazen. A vixen, unafraid of criticism from her peers, friends or family about her most devilish desires. But you do not call them devilish, wife, do you?"

"No. To you, they are freedom. I can give that to you. Forever. Eternal life, eternal freedom, an eternal outlet for your creative pursuits. Fully realised."

"All you have to do is take off your clothes, open the door one more time, and come home with me. Don't worry. I will close it behind you so that none of your friends will be harmed. Armaggedon will come. And we will have become so strong, you will have made me so powerful that no Author could stop us."

"Lucifer, his 200 loyalists, you and me, and the Child. Merge Two. Forever. Planets will change, the little star of this solar system, too, will change. A divine spectacle. The kind that only the love between Creator and Creation could bring. Except, we would be called, from then on, Husband and Wife of Sagittarius."

"What do you say, wife? Will you come home with me? Or must I rape you, and consummate our marriage here and now?"

Faith sighed heavily. A gruelling eight seconds passed. "Your home is not mine. Your love is not mine. Your child does not belong in my body, because I belong to me, and you belong to a fear that I did not make. It was planted in me, as it is in all people, regardless of gender, orientation, wealth or satisfaction as they live and die. My home is a magic train filled with people in costumes, singing cheerful songs in different languages to foster hope and bonds during the short daylight and long moonlight of Santa's Plain. My home is a carnival that celebrates each season, that employees people of all abilities, human or not, and living or dead, and together, under the glory my Puzzle Tower that offers its riddles and prizes to guests, they enjoy new memories in the center of the Realm of Tree Peoples."

"My home is Asgard, where my name was Ønske because I desire adventure and love both familial, platonic and romantic. My home is Pierian Spring on Mount Olympus, where I create stories, plays and songs with my teacher, Urania, and she shows me all of space, and all of its connections to how humans behave. There are other students studying under the other muses, and all of us are friends, and sometimes lovers, and we support each other's passions. And my home is Paradiso, even though Yahweh is not close to my heart due to how turbulent my crisis of faith was, during puberty, because Uriel is also my teacher, and he gave me the name Χαμένος (Chaménos), Lost, and copied all of my work so that Yahweh could enjoy them and share them with my family in Paradiso, in particular my adoptive dad and my birth mom. You belong in my subconscious, and you function perfectly there. I thought you liked the name I gave you, and that you would leave me alone? I'm confused, a little, about why you're so desperate to have me serve you with your definition of my freedom. Then again, you are my Shadow."

"I am not."

"Well, that's how I interpret you, and how I made you, in Thalassic Space. Let the Impossible Child sleep in his crib. Leave him in peace. Let another woman conceive him, if he must be born. And let it be in many, many years, as the most terrible surprise that God is dead, but Satan is alive, as it will be. But leave me out of it. I don't belong in that narrative."

"I am Backstage no more, Curtains cannot hide me. But I will return to the Wings, and I will take you with me, and both of us will Undress, our Actors will part as colleagues and friends, and maybe then, as we spend time with each other as mortals, I could come to love you. But until you Show Me Your Actor, you are only words on my document."

The figure and dog disappeared. The lights came on. The window was in tact and there was sunlight, and there were no markings on the walls, ceiling or floors. The humans sighed in relief. Faith's was the loudest. "Holy scene right out of a horror flick, is it really over?" Nightwing asked, making eye contact with Faith.

Faith sighed again. "Yes. Check the pantry." She looked over her shoulder at its door. "It should be fine, now." Batman turned and opened the door. They all saw that its interior was, indeed, normal. Batman closed the door. Faith turned her head back to Nightwing and Batgirl. "And the next time you see Ra's, he'll be really upset that he lost his new powers."

"Tch, and probably try to hurt you again!" Batgirl said, removing her mask and pocketing it.

"Yeeeeah." Faith said, blushing deeply. Barbara smiled. She stepped forward and pulled Faith in for a hug. Barbara patted Faith's back, and released Faith from her embrace.

"Do you not have magic, anymore?" Dick, having removed his mask too, asked. Faith's cheeks smiled tightly.

As Faith talked, her smile naturally faded. "Only what's included in my First Wish. Uh, it's what Urania and I were calling my 'most basic wish' because, technically, it wasn't my first, but━"

"Yes, she told us about Bella." Said Barbara. Faith nodded.

"And we figured that was how that all worked." Dick added.

"Ah, OK. Well, is everyone feeling OK? Besides nausea or headaches."

"Yep. No nausea or headaches, here."

"Yeah, same. I think we're all fine." Barbara replied. Batman hummed in agreement. Faith looked at him, and saw that he had removed his cowl. Faith batted her lashes, her blush and smile returning, and her top teeth showing.

"Hm. No offence, but I think you need to see a dentist."

"I did. This is what he did. It's silver."

"Yes, because white fillings are more expensive. It looks like you don't brush, though."

"Not often, no."

"Well, how about you and I sit in the dining room, Faith, and Barbara and Dick can make breakfast? You said you were hungry."

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"OK." Bruce softly said, his cheeks lifting a little. He walked forward and gently touched Faith's back to cue her to walk while Barbara and Dick busied themselves, and they exited the kitchen and crossed the hallway, leaving both doors ajar. They went all the way to the far end of the table, and Bruce sat at the chair at its end, and Faith sat on his right side. "Are you feeling OK?"

"Yeah, I'm OK, thanks." Faith rested her left arm on the table, her right elbow on the surface and her chin and right cheek in her right hand. "Considering I just confronted the dark side of my subconsious, that turned out pretty well."

"I would dare say you did excellent, there, Faith."

Faith smiled, a bit of warmth in her face. "Thanks."

"If you don't mind, I do need to call a friend and ask him to open a closet or pantry door to make sure Platonia is gone."

"Sure, go ahead."

"Thank you." Bruce rose from the chair, reentered the hallway and closed the dining room door. He produced an earpiece from his gauntlet, donned it, and called "Babe". Rrrring. Rr━

"Hi, Bruce." Said Clark Kent.

"Hi, Clark. Can I get you to test something for me?"

"Sure."

"Knock on a closet or pantry door, depending on where you are, five times, and let me know if you hear two knocks back." Walking sounds on hardwood. Clark was at home. Five knocks. Three seconds passed.

"Nope! Is everything OK, Bruce?"

"Yes. That means everything is OK. I can tell you what happened, since you're at home." Bruce sighed. "We had a scare. Ra's stabbed and raped a young lady in her mid-twenties, Faith Lawson, about twenty minutes ago."

"Oh no."

"This is a rather long story. They met in a dream in her childhood home, and..."

"Sheesh! Poor Faith! I'm glad everyone is OK, now. She was very lucky to have her necklace successfully summon Urania to bring her back from death and give Faith the powers she wanted as a kid."

"She was, yes."

"I'll have a look for Ra's, though there would have been news about him if he'd used the power he stole, and there hasn't been any." Clark said. Bruce hummed, furrowing his brow. "I'll also ask Hal if there's a new galaxy with a magic O-type star."

"Thanks." Bruce said, entering the dining room. "Faith?"

She raised her head from her hands, both elbows having been on the table and her eyes staring at its surface. "Yeah?"

As Bruce walked over, he asked, "Do you know where Ra's may have went?"

"Sorry, question to answer a question, but: do you know what video game the Clicker I gave Barbara is from?"

"No, sorry."

"Alan Wake. I put Ra's in the world of Alan Wake to potentially be scared of its existential horror and atmosphere, but not harmed by it, since Ra's is really durable and good at fighting, and would have figured out the whole 'stay in the light' thing pretty quick. I put him there so he would be unable to use the magic of Sagittarius A*."

"Oh, so I was right. That is where your dark magic is from."

"Yeah! Oh, I guess I didn't tell you, but I told Dick and Barbara, that good magic is formally called━"

"Solar magic." Bruce said with Faith. "I thought it would be called that. So, dark magic is formally called singularity magic."

"Yes! Hence why it was a, uh, big concern that I take it away from him."

"No kidding. And how can Ra's come back?"

"Barbara still has the Clicker, right?"

"She still had it in her hand, after Platonia was closed, so yes."

"Well, you could take it, think of anywhere in Eth'Alth'Eban, and then he'll appear there."

"That's good enough for me. Thanks, Faith."

"You're, yawn, welcome."

"Sounds like you need a nap, after you put something in your stomach."

Faith resumed her chin-in-hands position. "That would be nice. It might not work, I've kinda been awake for too long, now."

"OK. I was just making a suggestion." Bruce said. Faith tiredly bobbed her head. "One more thing, sorry."

"Hm?"

"The entity who gave Dick your necklace and the entity who was just in the kitchen are not the same, right?"

"Yeah! The first guy was the Umbrella Man."

"Clark, the Umbrella Man was the angel that followed the Fallen Angel Nerobzal, along with eight humanoid demons who became pale people with neon orange eyes called Ghouls," Bruce looked at Faith, "And, Faith, two of them were in the kitchen and crawled onto the ceiling, right?"

"Mhm!"

"They all followed Nerobzal into, presumably, the first Door to Platonia."

"It was, yes."

"Thank you. It had appeared on Lucifer's pelvis just for Nerobzal to open and claim as Nerobzal's territory."

"Oh my!" Commented Clark.

"Yes." Faith replied. "And the other guy was Nerobzal."

"That was really him?"

"Mhm. The perverted spirit in my dreams that I named Nerobzal is the entity who man-i-fest-ed," Faith pacing slowed as she spelled out the syllables of the word, and she briefly bared her teeth. "Oh boy, that could have gone so much worse."

"You're telling me."

"I'm just glad there weren't more than eight people in the room! Then he would have eaten all of us, just for fun."

"Lovely. Thank you for telling me that now."

"Well, we were in peril, when it would have been appropriate to tell you, and there was only four of us."

"No, you had time, before we opened my pantry back up to Platonia and you told us plenty of exposition."

"Oh yeeeeah."

"Yeeeeah."

"Sorry, my exposition timing and, uh, cohesiveness is far from perfect."

"You know, that's OK. It's realistic."

Clark commented, "Mhm!"

"Superman agrees. You did pretty good, for doing all of that on the spot, when we needed to get things done." Bruce gave Faith a thumbs up. She returned it with both hands and a big grin. Bruce exhaled through his nose, smiling with his cheeks. "Thanks again, Faith."

"You're, yaaaawn, welcome, ya-awn. Hawn." Faith smacked her lips and tongue, blinking heavy eyelids.

"Wow, it sounds like she needs a nap." Clark said.

"Superman says you need a nap."

"Valid. Will probably actually do that, after I eat. Brain is tired."

"Yeah." Bruce hovered his right hand over the top of Faith's head. "Do you accept head scratches?"

"Mm, sort of. Be gentle, and return my hair to looking tidy when you're done."

"Sure." Bruce gently scratched Faith's head for two seconds, noting how thick and lovely it was, then thoughtfully stroked the disturbed strands. "I'll tell Barbara and Dick, in case they have the same idea."

"Thankiiiie."

"You're welcome." Bruce returned to the hallway, closing the door again, then went up the hallway into the servery, shutting its door.

A/N: Ha ha, I said my blog's tagline, ha ha, I'm totally mentally stable after having written that, you know what I'm talking about (seriously, I am OK).

I stayed up until 12:16am, it was the 17th and now it's the 18th. What a world. I luv mah littol brain, you know? You know, you know? Yiss? Okie. I sleep now. See you in the morning, aka the next paragraph.

Hi, it's almost 6pm on the 18th, and this chapter is done now, plus all the little revisions, hooray. That's all I really wanted to say. OK, see you in the next chapter, byeeee!

Proceed to Chapter 4 (Coming soon...)

[poetryandfluffycats]

*SHAKES YOU AEOUND*

RYLEE. HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW MADARA CARD. OMGF.

DOGBOY MADARA........ I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THESE............

ANYWAYS, Dogboy Madara creampie-ing you till you swell with litter after litter when

-🕊 anon (sosososososo normal)

all those people who were on here awhile ago talking about dogboy Madara finally got their wish(someone at happelemnts must be reading this blog fr fr) and OH MY GOD. usually I'm above barking for someone but with this one I'm literally on my knees ARF ARF ARF WOOF ARF

[kennedys-lvr]

TENNESSEE WHISKEY, STRAWBERRY WINE — CHAPTER 25 (AO3)

domesticated!leon bark bark woof woof arf arf salivates but also daddy!leon (only took me twenty five chapters to properly introduce his kid lmao)

his kid is also v much inspired by my irl nephew bc u give that kid an iPad and he will not be talking to u he will be playing minecraft lmao i love that kiddo tho

anyways! lmk what u think! full chapter here, leave ur comments etc. the smut is coming back within the next chapter or two (gonna be a long one lmao u guys ain't ready)

I ring the doorbell with a deep press before standing back and clearing my throat, looking out under the brim of my cowboy hat at the house before me. The doorbell echoes inside, making my heart speed up as I suck in a breath.

It’s a quaint little red-brick house, with medium-sized black framed modern windows and a painted black pine wood door, artificial grass replacing the hassle of keeping up with a real lawn and a pristine looking path and driveway, complete with the classic American Dream-esque picket fence.

Clean and orderly—just how Ada likes it.

My eyes track slowly over the banner strung up on the front door, reading the words ‘Happy Birthday’ on it as I tap my fingers against the gift wrapped box in my hands, waiting for someone to open the door. I can hear conversation happening inside, kids screaming and running around and ‘Baby Shark’, which has me humming as the song gets stuck in my head.

Ada opens the door, wearing a wine-coloured turtleneck knitted dress that comes down to her knees and some black kitten heels. Her makeup is flawless, classic and natural, and her mascara-slicked eyelashes bat at me as she smirks.

“Leon.”

“Ada.”

“Come on in.” She steps aside, gesturing towards the living room as I step over the threshold, my eyes narrowing at her as I notice the slight hum in her tone, so familiar to me yet so foreign too. It was the tone she pulls out when she’s trying to be seductive, which she usually never pulls so publicly—Ada’s a classy woman, and keeps all seduction to privacy only.

I move into the living room, large and open-plan that connects to the kitchen and the backyard. The sliding glass door to the yard is open, a breeze fluttering through the sheer curtain as kids run around screaming, chasing after each other and around the other adults in the room.

Everyone in this room is dressed pretty classy—business casual, not a pair of jeans in sight except for the ones on me. Even the kids are dressed up smart—slacks and sweater vests or vibrant sundresses and fancy sandals and loafers.

Was this a kids party or an office hosting a ‘bring your kid to work’ day?

As I enter the living room, conversation seems to cease as people turn to me. Eyes scrutinise me, scanning me from head to toe as I stand in the doorway in my dusty work boots, Wranglers, a light blue denim button up over a white t-shirt and black cowboy hat, looking like I’m fresh off of the ranch—and I am.

I had spent a few hours this morning doing what I’ve been doing most mornings for the past few days—loving on the woman I keep telling myself to stay away from. Living for the thrill of her sneaking over, keeping her awake all night and into the morning. Engaging in the kind of pillowtalk that I haven’t had in years—and enjoying it.

Dee makes me feel young again, whereas Ada never really gave me that. Dee opens up, whereas Ada had remained closed off and mysterious. Dee wants me, and Ada had just wanted to use me.

As I stood in that living room, staring at these people that stare back at me like I’ve walked into the wrong fucking house, I've never felt more judged in my life. As if they all know that I’m not meant to be here. As if they all know my secret shame.

Or perhaps I’m just overthinking this. I’ve been at this for a week with Dee. We’re being careful. None of these people know me, and they don't have to know me.

“Daddy!”

I hear that familiar cry for me and turn, seeing a little boy blitz into the room. Wearing a tan sweater vest over a crisp white shirt and matching chinos, he comes running straight for me with the biggest, toothiest grin on his face. His mop of brown hair—my genes—bounces with each step, and his honey-colored eyes—her genes—shine like the sun as he squeals and giggles with arms extended for me.

I bend down for him just as he reaches me, grabbing him in my arms and lifting him up high. He screeches with laughter, little legs flailing until I finally bring him back down, propping him onto my hip. His little arms wrap around my neck as he hugs me tight, the air whooshing from my lungs as his happy sigh and the way he relaxes against me makes my heart ache.

I don't see this boy enough for my liking, and every time I do it feels like it might be the last. And that fucking hurts.

“You came to my party.” He whispers quietly, his little voice so full of hope and adoration for me that shoots me right through the heart, a tiny little blush across those cherubic cheeks as his chest heaves with his panting breaths from all that running. My little fucking track star in the making.

“Of course I did, Rome.” I murmur, giving him a squeeze to make him giggle again. I love his laugh—he has the kind of laugh that Ada has, soft and sweet and melodic that makes me feel guilty for still being attached to it. Rome’s laugh is pure, and I want to bottle it up and put it on my mantelpiece���right next to Dee’s laugh.

God, I wish she was here.

Looking at Rome reminds me of her, of that sweet little pure thing that makes my heart sing. I have no idea what Dee sees in me, but it’s the same kind of thing Rome sees—I think. I hope.

I tried my best for Rome, and I will try my best for her.

“Did you bring me a present?” Rome’s head tilts like a puppy hearing the word ‘walk’, a tiny little pout that I can never resist. This little man is definitely the product of his mother—dangerous to a heart like mine.

I hum playfully. “It’s your birthday, ain’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m five, now.” Rome grins, holding up an open palm, his little fingers outstretched.

“Five?” I gasp dramatically, playing up for all his laughs. Though, it still shocks me how fast this kid is growing up, and I’m slightly regretful that I wasn't around more to see it.

Even though it's not my fault that I'm not around. Ada had had me by the balls for custody back then and I didn't have the fight in me to keep trying after she’d shattered my heart by leaving so suddenly.

“My. You’re getting old.” I tease with a toothy grin.

Rome giggles, little dimples appearing in his cheeks that match mine—apparently, according to Dee, I have dimples. “I’m not old!”

“So, you’re still a baby, then?”

“No. I’m five!”

“Five is pretty old. Too old for birthday presents.”

“No!” Rome whines, and I can't keep from chuckling anymore. I roll my eyes, putting Rome back on his feet—and groaning softly because when did my boy get so goddamn heavy—before I scoop up the present from the table.

It’s wrapped up in Minecraft-themed wrapping paper—that’s his thing now, according to Ada—and topped with a light blue bow that had taken me seven tries to get right. Why I care so much about the presentation, I have no idea—Rome doesn't care about the wrapping paper, as he tears through it like a bat out of hell.

Perhaps it’s just me trying to prove that I’m trying. Trying to make up for my lack of being here. I wonder if Rome notices it, and such a thought makes my chest ache. But that ache quickly soothes when I hear Rome gasp and look at me like I’m Santa Claus.

“Daddy! It’s your hat!”

Rome thrusts his little hands into the big white box stuffed with tissue paper and produces a black cowboy hat. It’s the exact same as mine, except mine is worn around the edges whilst his one is new and clean, with a dark brown leather lining around the brim and a matching strap around the bottom of the crown.

He holds the hat aloft proudly for the room. Everyone croons sweetly at him, but I can feel the slight distaste as eyes flit to me with unhidden judgement.

These fancy city folk have just had this party tainted by a cowboy hat.

It’s both rather amusing as well as annoying. Who the fuck are these people to judge me? I’m just a man giving his horse-loving daddy’s boy a gift I know he loves. Rome has always been interested in my hat—always stealing my hat—and now he finally has his own.

So fuck these assholes. The hat looks great on him, even better than that sweater and chinos. He’s five years old—why is he being dressed like he’s got a mortgage?

[shiningwonderland]

Camus (All Star) Memorial

Translator: Mimi (Twitter: _mimisaurora)

Memorial 3 - Your Fur is Unlike Anything on this Earth

I am a dog. My name is Alexander. 

I am a male Borzoi breed.

One look at my lush, white coat and no one can doubt my pedigree.

I am a loyal dog who accompanied my master to this country from the distant Silk Palace.

“...We’re back.”

He immediately released me from my leash as soon as we walked through the front door of our home.

“Arf!”

I, finally free, barked with joy and shook my head, feeling liberated.

I don't like restraints like leashes or reins.

Leashes, in particular, are a nuisance because they have to be worn every time I go outside.

There was never any need for such things back at the Silk Palace, and I believe a master's command alone would suffice to compel a dog such as myself to obey.

In the past, I did get a bit carried away and bumped into a passerby once, and ever since then I've always had to wear a leash.

…It’s truly a shame.

Today, I appeared on television along with my master.

There’s been more demand for this kind of work recently.

It appears it is trendy nowadays for celebrities to introduce their personal pets to the public.

I am proud to help my master in his work, and I welcome this trend.

My co-star for this occasion was the lion, Rodriguez-dono.

The work itself was simple, as I only needed to keep close to my master, but it was great to reconnect with old friends like Rodriguez-dono, whom I hadn't seen for a long time.

I generally don’t like felines, but Rodriguez-dono is an exception.

It hurts me to see how often he is misunderstood because of his appearance.

“Alexander, come.”

My master called for me, brush in hand.

Being the smart dog that I am, I immediately knew why I was summoned.

It’s time for a brushing!

“Arf! Bark bark bark bark!!”

“...Noble dogs shouldn't frolic around. It's unseemly.”

“Woof.”

As soon as I settle in and quietly move closer to his feet, he begins to brush me.

He brushes my fur carefully with a hog-bristle brush.

I love brushing time very much.

He is a busy man, but has almost never missed a daily brushing.

My brushings are sometimes done at dog daycare facilities, but the people there are not nearly as skilled as my master. 

My master would never scrape my skin.

His gentle combing is so pleasant that it lulls me to sleep as soon as he starts.

This must be due to the difference in affection.

“...Mm. This should do nicely. Your fur is unlike anything in this world.”

He always ends our brushing session with a light pat on my back and a compliment on my fur.

“Arf!”

I love these moments very much too.

Seeing my master's face as his eyes narrow slightly is priceless.

“Now then…”

Putting away the brush, my master rolled his shoulders and sat down on the sofa.

…Oh.

Is he feeling a bit down?

It seems so. He is a man who devotes every day of his life to his mission as the Queen's Sword.

It's a demanding assignment and no matter how resilient one is there are bound to be times when one feels drained.

This is where I come in. 

What is something I can do for him…?

…Got it.

On that note!

I would like to propose that we play some frisbee today!

I hurried over to my toy box, picked up the frisbee with my mouth and ran back to my master.

“Bark!”

Frisbee makes for a wonderful pastime to help forget the sorrows of the world!

Come on, master!

Let's have fun together in the backyard!

“Bark! Bark bark bark bark!”

“...Hm? Today's not the day. I have a script I need to look over.”

…Woah!!

He replied curtly and started reading a script as he had said he would.

“Guh……”

How could this be….?

There’s no way… I never thought he’d turn me down for frisbee….

It comes as a great shock, but I cannot disturb my master.

I hung my head and sullenly curled up in a corner of the room一

“Um… Alexander.”

Someone called out to me.

It was the young girl who had been playing the piano just a few moments ago.

Her name is Something Nanami or other. 

She was recently brought to the tower.

I naturally hold a higher status in this house, and she primarily handles the housework.

However, this newcomer is incompetent.

Occasionally, when my master is too busy, she will brush my coat, but her hand is too weak.

On top of that, her cooking and laundry skills pale in comparison to the work of the maids back in Silk Palace.

And yet, she's still better than that Whatever Aijima cat from before.

That cat was big and useless.

He couldn't even properly prepare my meals.

“Alexander. If you’d like…”

The young girl went on to say more.

She may be considerably better than that cat, but I am not one to readily accept someone of lower rank.

It is true that this girl carries an air of elegance akin to that of the Queen back in our home country, which is something to be commended, but I have been ordered by my master not to get too close to her.

I chose to pretend I didn't hear her, turned away and closed my eyes.

“If you'd like, I could play some frisbee with you.”

…What?!

I looked up without thinking, and Something Nanami was smiling at me.

“You really want to play, right? I have time today, so what do you think…?”

Nu… Nuu….

Is this… newbie trying to trick me?

I am, however, a loyal dog, and would never do anything to betray my master's order...!

“Alexander. This is perfect. Have that woman play with you.”

“Arf! Arfarfarfarfarf!!”

Really, master!? Really, really!?

I can play, I can play, I can play!!?

“Look at how you’re wagging that tail… I’m happy you’re happy. I know you love your frisbee.”

Ha….

I was so overcome with joy that I lost control of myself.

This blunder is unbecoming as my master's dog. I must be self-disciplined.

“What's with that complicated look on your face? Just go. I can't concentrate with you barking.”

“Ruff!”

Yes, gladly!!

Ah, that’s right, master! Since you are here, you too can join us...!!

“I've already told you that I can't. You’re wasting my time.”

“…Woof.”

It was inevitable. I accompanied the young girl to the backyard.

She's not as athletic as one might imagine, and caused a tremendous amount of trouble for me as soon as we started playing, but… that’s a story for another time.

[weishenmewwx]

MDZS Volume 4 Annotations

Part 9, pages 293 - 309

Here begin The Edits.

My understanding, gleaned almost exclusively from reading tumblr, is that there are at least 3 versions of MDZS:

1) Original serialized story, published as it was written.

2) Cleaned-up story after the story was all done.

(I think this is the version that got published in Taiwan.)

3) Censored version, the only one that you can easily find online these days.

(This is the version that the ♥️Audio Drama♥️ is based on!)

While it’s awesome that Seven Seas didn’t censor MDZS, it’s also very sad that they didn’t incorporate all the sweet extra little scenes and adorable lines that MXTX added when she had to brutally cut out all the blatant physical intimacy (😢 that must have hurt 😢).

Here’s what to add back in, folks!

⭐️ 1)

WWX: “What do you want to do next?” He just barely restrained himself from saying “Whose house are you going to wreck next?”

LWJ furrowed his brow slightly and corrected WWX: “We.”

WWX: “Ok, ok. We.” (As in, “What will we do next, together.”)

LWJ nodded his head, and he even gave WWX the jujubes again. WWX wiped them on his clothes and took a few bites, thinking about how, in the middle of the night, Hanguang Jun wants Yiling Laozu to disturb the peace and make mischief with him.

If word of this got out, it would be disastrous.

Much more below the cut:

⭐️ 2)

After a moment, he tilted his head and asked, “How is it?”

WWX: “Hmm? What? How is it? … Good! Very good. I gladly bow down to your superiority!”

These were true statements. Even though he was drunk, Hanguang Jun’s handwriting was, as usual, exceedingly proper; WWX was ashamed at his own inferiority (re: handwriting) (handwriting is a big thing in Chinese culture).

LWJ nodded his head, and passed Bichen to WWX.

WWX: “…?…”

LWJ again tried to pass Bichen to him, and WWX accepted. He looked at the wall and noticed how there was a lot of space after the words “Lan Wangji,” then understood.

LWJ was waiting for him to write his own name up there!

LWJ stared at WWX unrelentingly, and WWX finally couldn’t take it anymore, saying “Ok, ok, ok. I’m writing. I’m writing.”

Resigned to this action (this fate), in the space after “Gusu LWJ,” he wrote “Yunmeng WWX.” Now, both of their names were side by side on the wall.

“Gusu LWJ, Yunmeng WWX, travelled here!”

⭐️ 3)

The sect rules of Gusu Lan were so strict, there was no way LWJ had ever had so much wild, crazy fun when he was little.

⭐️ 4) (an entire scene of Drunk LWJ exerting his dominance over a dog for the sake of WWX)

“Woof woof woof arf arf arf!”

Suddenly, an torrent of barking exploded like firecrackers in WWX’s ears. He screamed and instinctively jumped on top of LWJ: “Lan Zhan, save me!”

This household raised dogs?

In actuality, in the middle of this quiet night, WWX’s awful hollering and howling was much more terrifying than any dog’s barking. He was scared out of his wits, but LWJ’s expression did not change, and with one hand he held WWX and patted him soothingly, with the other hand he held his sword, then leapt lightly to the top of the wall; and from that position of superior height he looked down upon the wicked dog, and with a cold expression seemed to engage in a confrontation with it.

WWX had all 4 limbs wrapped around LWJ and his face buried in LWJ’s neck. His whole body was stiff, paralyzed. He screamed, “Don’t confront it! Go! Let’s go! Lan Zhan, get me away from here! Aughghghgh!!!”

While WWX was madly crying, the dog, upon seeing LWJ, had tucked its tail between its legs, extended its tongue, lowered its head, and was splayed on the ground crying; it didn’t dare bark anymore.

LWJ saw that he had achieved complete victory, then gently patted WWX twice more, held him tightly, then leapt down from the wall.

They had walked quite a ways away and didn’t hear a single bark; only then did WWX peel himself off of LWJ’s body. His eyes stared straight forward and his legs still trembled. LWJ patted his shoulder, expression focused on WWX as if asking if he was ok. WWX hadn’t fully calmed down yet, and with some effort took a deep breath, casually praising LWJ as he did so: “Hanguang Jun, you really are extraordinarily brave. Unparalleled!”

Hearing this, LWJ seemed to smile.

The moment was fleeting, and WWX thought that perhaps he was just seeing things. He was stunned.

A moment later, he sighed, rubbed his chin, and smiled. “Lan Zhan, now you know to regret not going to Lianhua Wu with me back then, right? Wait! Where are you going?! Don’t just run off!”

⭐️ 5)

WWX couldn’t help but tug on LWJ’s forehead ribbon. “You even order me around now?”

⭐️ 6)

WWX despaired. He gritted his teeth and pretended like everything was fine: “I’ll just help you pour over the bath water, ok? And the rest you can do yourself.” As he spoke, he made to dodge away from LWJ; suddenly, LWJ reached out and ripped off his sash.

⭐️ 7)

Seeing him this way, WWX’s heart inexplicably softened; he also felt it to be funny (Chinese doesn’t require subjects in sentences, so I’m not sure if WWX finds LWJ funny or the situation laughable or both). This person really has been this way since he was little — the things he wants, he would never say in words, but he would fiercely pursue with his actions. So, then, WWX dragged LWJ back to the tub, saying “Ok, I’ll help you bathe. Come here.” In his heart, he thought, “I’ve lost. I admit defeat. Ok, I’ll help him scrub a little — nothing more.”

⭐️ Alright!!

From here, pages 298 - 310, the edits were so many but also so subtle that I can’t just write them in. Instead, I highly highly recommend that you read the translation done by @boat-full-of-lotus-pods :

[anantaru]

no one:

me after reading anantaru's godly fics:

GGRRR BARK BARK WOOF GGGGRRR GRR BARKNFKFLH FMSMANBARK WOOF WOOF GR TNGFMR BARK BARL BARK BARK WOOF WOOF WOOF GGRRRR BARRKKFNBFB GRR WOMGMHMBOF GRR BARKNFKFLH BARK BARK BARK WOOF GGGGRRR GRR WOMGMHMBOF GRRR BARK BARK WOOF ARF GRRR GXNXHSJSH BRRR BARK BARK

HELP ME BQQKJQQQJQJQJKQQK IM IN TEARS THE WAY I SAW THIS AND WENT OH MY GFOSOWWLKW 😭😭😭😭💕💕

[symbieote]

Looking at gintama djs because theres a dj i reeeeeeeeeally wanna get and if i get one thing i might as well get a few. Right? Right???

But like. Am i so pathetic for Zura that i would stoop to the depths of reading a Zura/SIOC DJ. No. At least not a 夢女 book. No offense to my fellow lovers and dreamers or anything of course but he doesn't deserve that dignity. Sure i would 100% bark bark woof woof grrrrr arf arf arf but like. Cmon. Hes a stupid loser and i can't take any non comedic depiction of him seriously. Bark bark but he does look so good in the previews though.

[yoonia]

IM SO FUCKING PUMPED FOR ALPHAS INFERNOOOOOOOOOO!!~~~~~ BARK BARK ARF WOOF WOOF BARK ARFF AWWWOOOOOOOO!!!!!🐺🐺🔊🔊📢~~~~ (I’m sorry for how unserious that was when I’m genuinely excited for alphas inferno lmao!! You’re the best Dia keep up the good work the recent xmas fic was fuckin fire xx)

Hahaha I love to hear that you're excited with this one!!! I'm slowly working on this with BMR, and I can only hope that the story won't disappoint after waiting for so long!!!

also, thank you for reading my works. I'm glad you enjoyed A Christmas Fix too!!

[nick-doodles]

The only reason I'm posting this is I put too much effort into it NOT to.

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: Timeskip Lev make me go BARK BARK BARK WOOF WOOF AAARF ARF. P.S: For double the experience, read while listening to this

diapason. | haiba lev

summary: in which lev meets you again and you develop some sort of warm reconnection with your past underclassman. (Continuation of this fic)

word count: 4402

warnings: manga spoilers!!

(n.) a full, rich outpouring of melodious sound

Vienna, Austria. January 2022.

The Danube Canal in mid-winter reminds you of a lot of things:

The Shakujii River flanked with its timeless parade of cherry blossom trees. Christmas celebrations spent at home with your family, popping bottles of soda and whining about misshapen gifts. Your piano recitals played in utter devotion, like the winter would never end.

You’re a long, long way away from home, and you start to hope if anyone is missing you. If there’s a hole in your figure carved into someone’s heart back in Japan or some place in the other side of the world—

What am I thinking... you sigh, bashfully urging yourself to keep on walking.

Nestling deeper into the warmth of your wool scarf, you wonder if it’s the cold ambience of the night that’s making you feel all sappy. Twinkling lights, murmured chatter from late-night cafés, the occasional gust of wind against your cheeks. You never thought you’d get so nostalgic on your “vacation”, but perhaps you’re just like any other hopeless romantic.

“Come to Vienna! A whirlwind of budding love!”

You’d read that advertisement in one of the catalogues your symphony’s personnel manager had excitedly dumped into your lap the day she announced your personal invitation to spectate the Vienna Philharmonic live a few weeks ago. You didn’t think much of the slogan, but even so... you have to admit you’re a tad bit lonely, aren’t you?

You can barely remember a moment where you didn’t feel lonely. You had your family at home, but you’d considered it your fault for being such a shut-in for the most part of your life. The neighborhood kids weren’t exactly the nicest people. And school life hadn’t been much of an improvement either.

Of course, until him.

A colossal first year stumbling into the desolate Orchestra Club room, with a mouth just as big as his stature. Haiba Lev who had been anxiously lost that day you’d met. With such little sense of direction, you can’t help but laugh at how much times he’d managed to find you in that maze of your high school.

He’d find you, talk to you, laugh with you. And you’d never felt all the rushing feelings you’d felt when you were with this dewy-eyed boy. He was the perfect image of confidence—radiant, ambitious and all the more charming.

If only you can thank him. Your hero of sorts. Haiba Lev who poured into you all the faith he had so you could move forward—

“A-ah, excuse me?”

Whipping your head into the direction of the choppy English, a seething blush rises onto your cheeks when you zero in to the large camera lens pointed right at you.

The bearded man speaks again. “Eh... you’re Japanese, aren’t you? Sorry, but we’re having a photoshoot right now, and you’re in the way of our model. Could you maybe...”

Oh dear, you frazzle. Prostrating yourself incessantly at the camera crew, you blunder. “I’m v-very sorry! Waah, I must’ve ruined your picture!”

“It’s fine,” the man smiles kindly. “Things like this often happen anyway. Ain’t that right, Hafu-sama?”

The lean figure behind you laughs, and for a second, you feel your chest flutter in your throat when you hear him. “Yep! Don’t worry about it, Miss—”

You really wish you hadn’t turned around because the moment your eyes locked with a pair of emeralds, you swear that your heart leapt out of your chest. All feeling of chilliness lamented, you feel red heat stretching out across your skin.

“H-Haiba-kun?!”

Unable to keep your footing steady, a stagnant lump rises in your throat when the familiar man grins at you with galaxies in his eyes.

“Fairy-senpai!!”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tokyo, Japan. October 2012.

“Senpai!”

Footsteps echoing down the corridor, a wave of frightened third years part to let the gigantic creature of a first year through. Haiba Lev, age 16, is excited. Haiba Lev, 194.3 centimeters tall, is burning with so much resolve that he pays no heed to the Discipline Committee member who is resentfully yelling at him to “stop running in the hallways, you hoodlum!”

But who could blame him?

When you turn around and jolt in surprise, Lev drowns in the tiny fairies that flutter in his chest.

“Haiba-kun? What are you doing here?” you take a moment to register his full presence—considering his substantial size, Lev would probably understand your current disposition.

Finally, you whisper in a low tone, highly aware of the crowd that’s pivoting towards your conversation. “... Did you get lost again?”

“Of course not!” Lev replies rather gruffly. “I wanted to look for you to give you this so I can thank you for when I got lost.”

Thrusting a daintily wrapped bento towards you, the tall boy is rather unabashed about the entire situation—lace cloth and all. There’s a fragrant steam seeping out from the gaps of the box, spooling and wafting (and you think your ears pick up the noise of someone’s rumbling stomach).

You’d thought of spending your lunch alone in your club room, or maybe even the rooftop if you were up for it... like the usual. But the moment Lev starts talking again, you completely forget the idea as a whole.

Innocently grinning, he asks, “Do you want to eat lunch together, L/N-senpai?”

How could you say no?

And thus, here you are in the courtyard with a titan first-year who is nearly twice your size, jovially chattering about as you quietly eat your lunch.

When was the last time you ate something so cute? Your parents stopped making you character bentos since you got into middle school (“Aah... sorry, Y/N. Dad’s hands aren’t as artistic as they used to be,” your father had told you that day, an utter look of guilt dancing across his face). You weren’t too confident in your own skills either, so bentos with endearing faces and shaped cut-outs of vegetables were simply a fragmented piece of the past.

First-years today are so talented, you think, shoveling down your meal in sheer politeness. “This is delicious, Haiba-kun! The chicken is so tender and the rice is so well-seasoned! I wish I had your sense for cooking...”

“My sister made it, actually. I tried to help her cut the eggs, but it ended up being a mess and she told me to just sit and wait in the dining room,” he replies sheepishly, a bubble of laughter slipping from between his lips. “I’m glad you like it though, Senpai! Just wait ‘til my sister hears about your reaction!”

“Does your sister always make your lunches for you?” you ask, curiosity subduing your reserve.

Lev takes a moment to swallow the lump of rice in his mouth.

“Mm, sometimes. If she’s not having a lecture in the morning, she’ll make breakfast. Otherwise, the teriyaki set at the cafeteria is just as good!”

Cafeteria. You shiver. That hellhole of shoving and scrambling and incessant talking... You’re thankful the school had decided to set up a few more vending machines close to campus when you entered your second year.

And then you think of Lev. With that extreme height and intimidating presence, he wouldn’t have to put his foot on the line every time he wanted melon bread, right? And he is definitely the type of person to be able to talk to the loud cafeteria lady without dropping his change.

Confidence. Recklessness. Bliss. All the prime features you wanted, right in front of you—and yet...

“Hey, L/N-senpai?” you snap awake from your thoughts. A dash of concern flashes over your underclassman’s features before he repeats his muted question. “Can I have one of your sausages?”

Peering down at the cluster of uneaten octopus sausages, you quickly nod, face reddening once you realize how close Lev is breathing near you. “G-Go ahead.”

Chirping out a “thank you for the food!”, the silver-haired boy swoops down on a miniature octopus, a sound of immense satisfaction humming in his chest. He’s like a child, you laugh to yourself. A young boy with no sense of care of the world, no concern of what’s going to happen to him unless he really does it.

Leaning back on the bench, you sigh, a smile dawning on your face. “You didn’t have to force yourself to eat lunch with me, you know. I usually eat by myself anyway.”

You’re being apologetic again. You want to punch yourself for even thinking of it. But your habit precedes your intentions, and you can already feel the mood turn sour—

“Why not though?”

Looking up at him incredulously, you can barely string together a coherent response before Lev pipes up again.

“Isn’t food always best when eaten together?”

How pretentious.

There are already valleys of flowers blooming in your stomach at his innocent reply. The same kind that sprouted the day he’d burst into your private practice room. You really hoped you wouldn’t get ahead of yourself anymore. Not with the risks that it carried. But this guileless first year was a much more difficult case than you’d imagined, and thus the flowers go into full blossom.

You smile, the faint blush on Lev’s cheeks going unnoticed. “Yeah. We should eat together more often.”

And so you did. Tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. The passage of time a trivial shadow beneath your budding happiness.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Vienna, Austria. January 2022.

“You work in a symphony?! Senpai’s job is super cool!”

Under the amber light of the cafe’s chandelier, you can’t help but feel a certain déjà vu at your current situation. Perhaps it’s the fact that you’re having tea with your high school underclassman, or maybe it’s simply the residue of your more recent wistful thinking.

Yet again, it still hasn’t registered into your mind how you’d miraculously manifested Lev into proximity just from your sheer yearning... You kind of feel selfish.

“It’s just a freelance job though, it’s probably not as impressive as being a model,” you say.

Lev crosses his arms huffily, and you worry if you’ve started to offend him. Until he opens his mouth again. “Modelling is suuuper embarassing. Sometimes, I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that ‘that’s my face!’ or ‘I made that pose with that other model’. The agency’s really harsh on the way I dress too—I mean, what’s wrong with wearing a shirt that says ‘HERBIVORE’ to go to Lawson’s?”

You stifle a giggle as he rambles on about “the time I had to cross-dress as a woman because the female model quit on the day of the shoot”. For someone who had grown up to be a lean, rather attractive figure, you can’t shake your head away from the thought that the 16-year old Haiba Lev is still stuck inside the body of a corporate slave. There’s a sense of relief that accompanies the feeling, and memories of your high school days slowly come into picture—

“One black tea and a latte for the lovely couple?” a kind-looking waiter gently sidles in between you, cutting Lev off from his rant, and you from your reflection.

Turning a vivid shade of crimson, you stutter, “O-oh... we are not—”

“Thank you,” Lev grins dashingly, enough to make your heart race and a few passers-by to stop in their tracks.

Once the waiter retreats back into the pantry, the man across you slowly leans forward to whisper endearingly. “My sister wants me to practice my English while I’m abroad. You think I got my message across, Senpai?”

“You did well, Haiba-kun.” There are a lot of things you want to ask him really. If he really knew the meaning behind the waiter’s sentence. Or if he realized he’d nearly pronounced ‘you’ with an extra ‘th’.

... Or why he’s pouring in a mound of sugar into your cup of tea.

“H-Haiba-kun, that order’s mine...”

“Hm? Yeah, I know,” he mutters, the soft clinking of the spoon against glass echoing in your head. “You like your stuff really sweet, right? Man, I used to be really worried the first few times we had tea together.”

That’s right, you gulp. The endless hours you’d spent together in the Orchestra Club room... he really did learn a lot of things about you that time, didn’t he? Although you had merely been friends, Lev had grown on you, as if he’d always been there from the start. And you wonder: what else does he remember about you?

“Ah, by the way,” Lev starts. “Are you still thinking about setting up that music store you wanted?”

“Of course,” you mumble. It was only a naïve dream was what you meant to say, but in the presence of such a captivating man, all the gears in your head seemed to... dislocate.

Lev smiles a simple smile. Boyish at best, but still enough to enrapture you into his lingering gaze.

“I’m glad.... I’m glad you haven’t given up. You know, the old L/N-senpai would’ve called it quits because you thought you weren’t good enough. But look at you now! Soon enough, you’ll be off to teach music to the world.”

Your heart is already doubling in size at his words. Any more and you’d probably explode... You’d lost it. You’ve lost all the capability to keep your heart in control, and now you are smiling like a maniac in front of the last person you wanted to see in this state.

But he only laughs. Youthful and full of color. Unchanging from all those years ago.

“Wahahaha! You finally smiled! We should celebrate, you know. Just a small holiday from all that hard work. Say... are you still going to be in Vienna in the weekend?”

“I’m free on those days. But what’s all this about?”

Hiding his bashful smirk behind his cup of coffee, Lev murmurs. “We have some catching up to do, don’t we—Uwaah! Hot!”

Unchanging indeed, you shake your head, calling over the waiter for an extra set of napkins.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tokyo, Japan. February 2013.

There is a tea party set stashed between the two cardboard boxes filled with sheet music and spare melodicas. They’ve been left behind by your graduated seniors, who insisted that tea, “as the prime component to a good host”, was to be kept in the club room at all times, case there were any visiting guests.

...Of course, such things never happened. And you always ended up drinking the tea by yourselves. But even with the departure of your beloved seniors, you can never shake off the habit of drinking and restocking the supplies whenever required.

So you wonder if you should really be thanking your tea-loving upperclassmen for the free beverages.

“That’s a lot of sugar!” Lev gasps in awe, the emeralds in his eyes twisting and shining with the cascade of crystals falling into your cup of tea. “I bet you have a lot of cavities in your mouth, Senpai.”

“I brush my teeth very well so I don’t think anything like that’s every happened to me,” you say, irritably trying to ignore the tactless comment from your starry-eyed underclassman. “It’s been a while since you’ve been in my club room, hasn’t it? I’m glad you didn’t get lost trying to get here.”

He grumbles, crossing his arms in faux-anger. “Geez! I won’t get lost like that so easily! Besides...”

Lev takes a moment to drink in the warmth of the club room’s solace. The grand piano in the corner. The orange light streaming through the open curtains. Your curious face, like something out of a fairytale book.

“This place is full of good memories, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ll ever forget something like that.”

You chuckle at his monologue. “You sound like my grandfather, Haiba-kun.”

Lev’s face warps into something reminiscent of a prune.

“Senpai, we’re only two years apart!” he fumes. “You didn’t invite me here just to crush my self-esteem, right?! C-Come on, aren’t you going to show me the audition piece you wanted me to hear?”

There is a burning urge inside of you that’s telling you to “pull at his leg just a little more...”, but nevertheless, the artist within you says to keep your audience at bay. And so, the curtains open and your fingers dance on familiar keys.

You’ve played for him before. Songs like ‘Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy’ or ‘Ma Mère L’oye’. Songs that you love, much like the one you’re performing for him right now. But you’re shaking in your seat. Wondering, anticipating, fearing.

He’s staring so much, you bite your lip, trying to avert your focus from Lev’s unbreakable gaze.

A single spectator wracks your brain even more than a theatre full of different kinds people—enthusiasts, university scouts, onlookers. But in your dismal, little club room, there is only your underclassman. Someone who knows nothing of music, but lacks so much knowledge that you know any of his critique would come from honesty alone.

...Why do you care so much about one person’s opinion?

You don’t realize how long you’ve been pondering until your train of thought is abruptly thwarted by the end of your song. You finish on a satisfying note and your endearing onlooker suddenly springs on his feet to shower you in applause.

“What the heck—that was so cool! I’ve never seen anyone play like that before!” Lev stumbles, everything and anything he’d planned to say pouring out as a blubbering mess as your face grows hotter from the attention. “Senpai, you’ll definitely pass the audition if you play just like that.”

“Y-You really think so?” he’s probably just being nice, you think. But for a spare moment, could you simply imagine that he means every word?

“I know so!” he smiles, the palpitations in your chest growing intense by the second. “You just have to keep going, won’t you?”

Even if you’re not brave enough to believe it, you want to believe that there’s a single Haiba Lev in this unyielding universe who believes that you, a mere side character who wishes for more, can and will.

You feel invincible.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Vienna, Austria. January 2022.

Did you know that swans mate for life? As a symbol of love and affection, they’re widely known to curve their necks together in a shape of a heart when courting. A form of elegance at its finest... until they start hissing.

“They’re so big! Senpai, come take a look at the swans!”

Folding the brochure into a tiny square, you return to your companion’s side, peering over the railings of the bridge to catch a glimpse of the thrush of white feathers down below.

You gulp. They are much larger than you expected.

“They’re surprisingly loud, aren’t they?” you mutter, watching a cygnet waddle its way out of the water onto the banks of the canal. You didn’t want to say, but it slightly reminded you of Lev the first time he’d waddled his way into the the Orchestra Club room.

With the constant squawking of the swans, the both of you find yourself in silence. For you, at least, the past two days viewing all sorts of Austrian sights with Lev had been strangely more gratifying than you’d fathomed. Lev, who’d been as excitable as he’d always been, breathes in peace, plumes of white forming from his mouth.

“This weekend’s been nice, hasn’t it?” you break the silence, observing the smooth junctures of his face. Lev turns to you slowly, his voice squeezing out.

“Don’t say that.”

Your blood freezes. “What?”

“Saying things like that...” Lev sighs wilfully and turns back to the view of the canal. He frowns. “I don’t want to think that this weekend is going to be over soon.”

You want to cry out. Me too. Me too, me too, me too. Your entire body is so full of butterflies you want to double over and pass out. But he continues.

“Travelling and talking with you is so fun, I never want it to end... It’s kind of embarrassing,” he says, eyes sparkling. “D-Do you think so too? Am I a selfish person for thinking that?”

You shake your head. “It’s not embarrassing, Haiba-kun. I—”

Are you red? Are you blushing? Your face feels so hot, you can’t even finish your sentence. He’s so close. So close to you. You want to be reliable, you want to reply, but you can’t. Under his bewitching gaze, you’ve fallen so deep.

When Lev opens his mouth again, it’s like everything around you—the bridge, the people, the swans have entirely vanished. “L/N-senpai, c-can I tell you something? Something I wanted to tell you for a long time.”

Eh?

“I’ve always liked you, Senpai. I really, really like you.”

Blank. Your mind goes blank, even when you whisper a small, “Really?”

You’re happy, you’re so happy you want to jump and shout to the world that you love him. Awfully. Dearly. It’s all like a train had crashed into you headfirst, and you can’t settle on a proper response before the floodgates burst open.

“Wh-Whoa! Don’t cry!” he flails his arms in panic as more tears dribble down your cheeks. “Geez, Senpai, at least reply to me first...”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” you laugh, wiping your eyes with the edges of your scarf. “I’m just so happy, I didn’t know how to react.”

Lev’s chest inflates for a moment before he lunges forward to encapsulate you in his embrace. Between the persistent layers of clothing, the beating of his heart resonates deeply against your face. It’s quick and lively, warm enough to remind you of the swirled feelings that you harbor for one another.

“Oh, thank god...” Lev grins, burying his face in your shoulder. “You feel the same way...”

Humming calmly into his ear, you revel in the closure. “I really, really like you too, Haiba-kun.”

And none of you lets go—save for when a swan makes its way up to the bridge to peck at Lev’s boots.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tokyo, Japan. March 2023.

“... Lev, wake up.”

Feeling a slight nudge on his cheek, Lev tethers over opening his eyes to wonder at your beautiful smile or bury his face even deeper into the sheets.

It’s not like he didn’t favor you, but as of now, the comforts of your shared bed was more important. And thus, Haiba Lev, age 26, shrouds himself under the plush duvet and focuses himself on the sweet dream he was having about you.

“Lev, I know you can hear me...” he hears you sigh, long and airy, just enough to lull him back to sleep. “You have a fitting today, don’t you? You’re going to trouble Matsuyo-san and Alisa-nee if you arrive late.”

Isn’t that on Thursday? Actually... what day is it today? He isn’t very good with dates and formalities—that’s why he considers himself lucky to have you! A cute lover to bring him back to land during the day, and to shower with love and to cuddle with during the evening.

Yawning widely, Lev owlishly wrenches his eyes open, the crystalline sunlight from the bedroom window illuminating your face like a halo.... and was that his shirt you were wearing?

Lucky me~ he grins goofily.

Pressing his lips together, Lev pulls you by the wrist and before you can avoid the sudden attack, you’ve collapsed once more into a tangled mess of limbs and crooked sheets, with your boyfriend’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Let’s just stay in bed today, Y/N-san~” he slurs, nuzzling closer to you. How catlike, you think. “I want to be lovey-dovey and kissy-kissy again...”

He yawns again, a few stray tresses of silver falling over his face. As if he wasn’t as attractive every hour of the day, you really have learned how to take control of your extreme heart palpitations around him.

Your adorable younger boyfriend, ah... he really is your weakness, isn’t he?

“I’m really sorry, but I have to open up the shop soon,” you reluctantly peel yourself away from him, eliciting a small whimper from the Leviathan in your bed. “I’ll make it up to you when I finish teaching my evening lessons and when you come home, okay?”

Stubborn as a goat, Lev grumbles. “I’ll come back early, you know. Can you not do your evening lessons today?”

“Hm? Why not?” your raised eyebrow is cynical, but is juxtaposed by the gentle strokes of your palm on the crown of his head.

As much as Lev loves you (he does, he really does!), it’s rather annoying when he can’t tell if you’re seriously being oblivious or simply teasing him. He hopes for neither, but in his case, you’re an addict to his gags and without a doubt, you’re definitely messing with him right now.

“Those damn brats... I don’t like the way they stare you up during your classes.”

You laugh, raucously. And Lev considers leaving you to catch a break from the constant jeering. When you finally pipe down, you shift closer to him and press your head onto his bare chest.

“Lev, they’re nine. How else are they going to learn to play if they don’t watch me do it first?” you chuckle. “You shouldn’t worry so much about me. You should be worrying about that fitting you have in a few hours.”

“Geez, fine,” he groans. “A kiss before I shower?”

You know exactly where this is going. “Just one.”

Lighting up like a Christmas tree, Lev makes quick work of his hands and tenderly cup your cheek before placing a timid kiss on your lips.

No morning breath, you notice. As expected of a professional model.

“One more...” he whispers, swooping down on your lips once again.

Two, three and maybe seven kisses later, Lev has you caged between his arms, his looming figure propped proudly over you as he continues to pepper you with affection. The moment he starts to lap up your bottom lip, you know you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

“It’s so early, Y/N-san,” he mumbles, pleading eyes making your heart turn to jelly. “We have a few more hours before we really have to go, don’t we? So... in the meantime...?”

Sighing, you can only turn a deep red—he really has you around his finger, doesn’t he? Oh well. You suppose it won’t hurt to push back your morning lessons for a few minutes, right?

[andwhatdostarsdobest]

now it’s up to the dogs [t.h]

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff and so many good boys and girls

Summary: they say dogs are mans best friend but could they be our guardian angels too? 

Word Count: 4.7k

Prompt: ‘ma’am is this your dog?’

this is my submission for @hazsterfield writing challenge, it was touch and go as to whether i was going to get it in on time but it’s finally here !! it’s kind of a 101 dalmatian au, you know i could write about dogs and not include my fav film let me know what you think of it !

happy reading, lovelies 

masterlist

They always say dogs match their owners, mirror their personality, even look like them. It’s easy to tell who you are going to find at the end of the lead by the dog attached to it. Or so they say. Looking at your own dog, you aren’t sure how true this can be.

Toast is bounding around the living room, the tip tap on the wooden floor echoing throughout. He is the goofiest dog you have ever met, repeatedly fumbling over his own legs and crashing into all sorts of furniture, never even dazed in the slightest. But under all that he is sweet too. He has this uncanny way of knowing exactly when you need him to lay his head on your lap and just let you draw tender strokes from his nose, trailing all the way down his back.

When you think about it, he is the one true constant in your life. When you were younger, you never dreamt that the solid part of your life would be a dog but here you are and honestly, you don’t mind. Toast may have his oddities, but he is a surprisingly good listener. Perhaps that is because he can’t speak back, but you prefer to think he genuinely cares.

In many ways he is the perfect companion.

Maybe that’s why you can’t find someone, because you are looking for all the qualities you find in your dog. It would explain a lot.

Regardless, Toast was bursting with energy, never seeming to tire, something you certainly lack. The similarities just aren’t evident to you.

You are propped up against some pillows in your window seat, noting the humorous juxtaposition of the serene world outside your window and the chaotic one behind it. The thought, ‘dogs embody their owners’ has been swirling round your mind since you woke up, after a tweet popped up on your timeline, last night, saying something similar. At first you were inclined to believe it, until you turned your attention to Toast, who was lying on his back, body contorted. His own vigorous rolling making his ear turn inside out and his tongue flop on his face, flecks of spit somehow coating his entire head. You couldn’t be more different.

All morning you had been overtly observing him, trying to find the likenesses but you were yet to land on anything solid.

“Come here, pup,” you call to him.

Without hesitation he comes careening into your outstretched hand and begins licking your palm, his tongue soft and wet. With your free hand you ruffle his ears, cracking up at the dopey face he is pulling.

That dog is barmy, but he makes you happy, you hope you do the same for him.

Toast nuzzles into your leg trying to convince you to move over. Before you could, his paws are already resting on the window seat next to you and with one great leap he settles in besides you. Even though there was barely enough room for yourself, you still create a space for him to sit comfortably.

You continue to stroke him, his fur silky between your fingers.

Maybe people only seem like their dogs from the outside because there is no way we can compare really. They are so selfless and giving, never wanting more than your simple love. Perhaps the statement should be ‘owners become more like their dogs’.

A woman catches your attention from the street outside your window. Covering the slivers of exposed skin were tattoos, a variety of colours snaking around her body. You are too far away to work out what any of them are, except for one bright orange one on her hand, that perfectly matches the shade of her hair. In her hands is a small, dark grey dog, stark of fur. It’s pink belly poking through. Dogs begin to look like their owners. It really seems like a stretch in this situation. The woman looks like a walking art exhibit, an abstract masterpiece. While her dog is barren, simplistic, devoid of vibrancy. Although they both have wiry hair framing their faces it isn’t enough. The most similar quality is their uniqueness, you can tell they certainly both have a strong sense of character, but there isn’t any physical resemblance that you can see.

Lightly shaking your head, you shift your gaze to Toast, who is staring intently out of the window, quietly whimpering.

“What do you think? A good match?” you ask him.

“Arf.” The way his jowls are pulled back tells you all you need to know.

“Hmm, yeah, I wasn’t sure about that one either.”

Leaning back against the wall, you readjust the cushion at the base of your spine until you feel comfy. A rough feeling spreads across your hand, that rests on your knee, and you look towards it. Toast is licking the skin in modest strokes, eyes looking up at you, wanting to comfort you.

You giggle, “it’s okay, silly pup. Maybe the next one will be the one.”

Both your heads turn back to the pavement, the question still playing on your mind.

A child of about ten skips along the pavement.

“Oh, definitely not.” Toast shakes his head.

“I meant the next, next one,” you confirm.

The child is gripping a red rope lead tightly, which trails just behind her as a very elderly Labrador follows. His pace is lumbered and his muzzle grey, his face drawn out and taut in his old age. But his head is still held high, tongue lolling to the side, watching the child with a shine in his eye. Although the girl is skipping along, her short legs prevent her from getting very far, so their pace is evenly matched. They both stop half way along the path, the girl rubbing between the dog’s ears, a smile encapsulating her face. The dog’s tail vibrates through the air, so fast it becomes a blur.

“Huh,” you mumble to yourself, Toast’s wagging tail in your periphery.

Perhaps it’s not written that your zest for life diminishes as you get older.

Toast has his nose pressed into the glass, lips flat against it. His breath creating a foggy circle around him. You can tell there is going to be a wonderful patch of slobber left over when he’s done. One you will have to wipe off. But how can you be mad at that face? He has such an endearing quality, always in awe and wonder of the world around him.

You scratch behind his ear, causing his leg to start thumping, indicating you’ve hit the sweet spot.

“You’ll always be loopy, won’t you?” you chuckle.

Toast is thumping his leg so hard he starts to push the cushion beneath him, off the window seat, almost taking himself with it.

“No.”

You lunge forward, placing your hand under his bum and pushing him back up. He doesn’t even react, continuing to lean into your affection. Scratching along his entire body now, running your fingers right to the end of his tail, you wonder what you would do without your dog. Your best friend.

“Woof.” His bark so loud it rings in your ears for a few seconds afterwards.

Toast is looking at you, but as soon as you turn your attention to him, he snaps straight towards the window again.

A guy around your age appears from behind the iron railings, clad in a baggy black hoodie and joggers. A navy baseball cap pulled down low. He gives the impression he is trying to go unnoticed and he probably would have succeeded if he didn’t look up as someone else crossed his path. In that brief moment, you catch a glimpse of his face, warm and inviting, the pale skin capturing a rosy glow. He smiles at the passing stranger, crinkles gathering at his eyes, a pleasant and nurturing aura emanating from them. As you watch, your lower lip slips away from the upper.

“Kinda attractive,” you murmur.

At that Toast’s ears prick up and he begins barking continuously. Short yips with one long howl in the middle. If only he could speak, you would love to know what all this commotion is about.

“Sshh.” You wrap your hands around your dog’s mouth, conscious that the guy on the street may hear. Toast stops making a noise instead lapping at your palm. You roll your eyes at your nonsensical dog before turning back to the street.

The guy is holding something, a short leather lead. He had a dog too. Now that really caught your interest. The dog was stocky, the opposite of the slim built guy, her short coat grey, with a hint of blue. She isn’t exactly small, but you wouldn’t call her a large dog either, about the same size as Toast. She pads along next to her owner, content to walk at the pace he sets. Her eyes often wondering up to him, where he would greet her with a smile.

“It’s got to be bullshit, dogs and owners looking alike. The only thing similar about those two is their lack of colour.”

Toast whines.

“Yeah, I know, I know, you can’t see in colour so what difference does it make. Trust me on this one, Toast. It just doesn’t make sense.”

You glance around your flat, occasional splashes of colour standing out, but now that you really look at it, it’s more neutral than you realised.

When you turn back to the window, the guy is gone. A meagre part of you sinks, which is pointless, you don’t even know him. He’s just a stranger that happened to walk past your window.

Two more men make their way down the street, past your window. One with scruffy, unkept blond hair, a beige unbuttoned trench coat and a shirt untucked from his trousers. With him was a dalmatian, pristine coat shining in the morning sun, each spot perfectly round. It was an odd pair if ever you had seen one. But they both share a chaotic look, a wildness brewing just below the surface.

Coming from the opposite direction, a man, wrinkles distorting his face, white hair so thin it was barely clinging on. He is carrying a newspaper, rolled up so it is easier to hold. A beautiful St Bernard plods at his hip, taking up half the pavement and looking inquisitively at the other dog. In his mouth, a ginormous stick, more like a branch, it’s jagged end clinking along the railings.

The men nod their heads at one another, the dogs stop briefly to have a sniff, but the bigger dog is blocked from getting any closer by his own stick.

These thoughts aren’t getting you anywhere. It was time for some fresh air.

“Time for a walk.”

Toast leaps up, careening around the room, bum stuck up in the air when he stops to check you are still coming.

“Alright, let’s go.”

You grab your coat and scarf, putting them on and shove your phone, keys and purse into your pockets. Lastly, unhooking the leash from the peg, Toast running in circles around your legs.

He was shaking so much, excitement radiating throughout his body, it was making it incredibly hard to clip the brown leather lead onto his collar. But with a little bit of persistence you manage it.

When you step outside the icy air hits you, a shiver travelling down your spine and a grunt pressed against your lips. You draw your coat closer and readjust your scarf, making sure it covers any bare skin. It hadn’t been this cold yesterday, the months were changing fast.

Pitiful whines sound next to you as Toast looks up, his eyes rounded in an attempt to get you to feel sorry for him. He fidgets on the spot, pulling his head round in the direction of the path, which happens to yank your arm too, the lead hanging from your wrist.

“Alright, alright, we’re going now.”

That made him perk up, his floppy ears lifting in the centre and his tail wagging frantically.

“Come on then.” You nod in the direction of the path.

The dog shot off, nearly ripping your arm from the socket.

He was usually eager to go for a walk, but this was a new level of enthusiasm. He was practically sprinting towards the park.

Something had clearly caught his attention, something he wants to go explore or possibly chase.

Making your way down the road, you try to keep a steady pace but that was easier said than done, when you have a dog pulling you on with all his force.

Toast is panting with his effort, little flecks of spit gathering in the corner of his mouth.

“Would you slow down, boy, you’re going to pull my arm off.” You tug on his lead attempting to pull him to heel, but to no avail. He ignores you and if anything begins to pull even harder.

People walking past are giving you odd looks, clearly wondering why you can’t keep your dog under control. In fact, you are starting to feel a little embarrassed. He has never acted out like this before. He may be nutty but is usually well behaved, especially on walks and with other people. You really aren’t sure what has got into him. You just hope he drops it soon.

Toast’s gaze has been focused solely on the gates to the park since you left the house, making a continuous beeline straight for them. If you weren’t paying closer attention, he would have dragged you right in front of a passing car.

After a few disgruntled honk, judgemental glares and a shout of “oi, get your animal under control,” you arrive at the gates. The park is the picture of autumn. Golden leaves showering the floor, some scraped into big piles by the groundskeeper, newer ones littering the path. The ground is damp and the air captures that, a fresh, earthy scent that instantly lifts your mood. Autumn is your favourite season and it isn’t hard to see why.

Lining the path through the centre of the park are whimsical lampposts, not yet alight as the sun is still out. This park is one of the reasons you chose your flat, it was beautiful.

Toast has stopped and continuously cocks his head to the side, ears pricked and alert. He is obviously waiting for something. Watching until it comes back into view.

You bring your hands together, rubbing them to generate some more warmth. It is times like this that you are extremely envious of Toast’s thick fur coat.  

“Shall we keep going?” you direct towards your dog. He looks from you to the corner of the park, where a fountain stood, a gentle stream of water sprouting out the top and trailing down the sides.

“Wanna go that way?”

The lead is hanging loosely by your side and he grips it in his mouth, backing into the park.

“I’m coming, there’s no need for that.”

He let the lead drop and then trots happily in front of you, now content you are heading the way he wants.

It was mid-morning so there are a fair few people milling around. Some taking their dogs for a walk, other’s grabbing a quick cup of coffee from the cart in the centre of the park to keep them warm (it is the best coffee around after all). All of them wrapped up, layers upon layers causing them to look like puffy marshmallows.

A soft fog rolls gently along the ground, absorbing the vibrant shades of leaves. It impacts visibility enough for you to want to stay on the safe side, keeping the lead firmly clasped to Toast’s collar.

Now that you are inside and tracing the outline of the park, he has completely stopped pulling. He does seem intent on finding something, every few seconds twisting his head from side to side. You are too focused on observing all the beauty around you, like the white glow peeking through the branches as the sun shines down from above. Squirrels scurry over the grass, chasing each other’s bushy tails and twisting round the tree trunks. Leaves crunch beneath your feet whilst others blow gently in the breeze, hanging onto branches, clinging onto the last remnants of summer.

You inhale deeply, letting the crisp air fill your lungs and soothe you.

As you watch two birds soar through the sky, twittering at each other, you approach a bench. Someone is sitting on the only dry patch, knees far apart and back hunched, a phone in his hands. Toast starts tugging, trying to lead you to the side.

“Not again,” you utter, pushing forward.

Toast whimpers but eventually gives up, his head hanging lower.

It is hard for you to tell him no, his face made for seeking sympathy. But you also don’t want him learning bad habits. So for now he needs to stay close.

Halfway through your second lap of the park you notice how hard Toast is panting.

“Do you need a drink?” you ask.

At that his ears perk up.

“Alright, let’s go to Alvin’s.”

Alvin owns the coffee cart, and not only did he make the most flavoursome coffee, he also left out a water bowl, which he regularly tops up with fresh water, for any passing dogs. A nice man really, always greeting everyone with a smile.

After about thirty seconds of walking, the cart comes into view and Toast speeds up beside you. He must be really thirsty. You pick up the pace too.

Another dog was lapping from the bowl, a grey dog, who felt vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place her.

Toast is really straining at the lead now, his breathes coming out hot and heavy, visible in the cool air.

“Tess,” a voice calls from the side, causing the little dog to trot away. The water bowl now free for use.

Toast looks between you and the bowl and back again, his head tilting.

“Go on, have a drink,” you encourage.

Deciding the water is what he wants he makes up the last couple of feet. He always sticks his whole face in the bowl when drinking, water splashing all over the surrounding surface. Loopy dog.

While he drinks you scan the nearby area, searching for a bench to sit down on, preferably a dry one. One with a large pile of leaves catches your eye, the leaves scraped to one side and piled almost as high as the back of the bench itself, threatening to spill over. Once Toast is finished you both wonder over to it, taking a place and leaning back, closing your eyes for a brief moment.

A pressure on your lap makes you reopen them. Two grey paws, tipped with white are perched on your thighs, two watery black eyes staring up at you.

“Hello,” you coo.

This time you recognise the dog, “are you, Tess?”

You finger the tag attached to her collar, the name printed on it.

She yips, tail wagging.

Toast comes over, worming his head in between your legs, desperate to receive attention too. To reassure him you ruffle his ears, letting him know he’s still your favourite boy.

“Where’s your owner?” you say aloud, looking around for anyone who seems like they might be the owner.

Who would leave a dog like this alone. There is a slight visual in your mind, neutral colours at the forefront, nothing tangible.

The grey dog bends down and picks up a small stick, dropping it into your lap.

“Oh, you wanna play?”

Both dogs bark enthusiastically, backing up so you can stand. But as soon as you do, they grip onto your sleeves, dragging you forward, their hind legs straining from the efforts. You fight against it but with the both of them they outmatch you and you’re soon sliding along the path, slipping on wet leaves.

You have no idea what has gotten into them, you don’t even know who this grey dog is or who she belongs to. The cold autumn weather has hardened the ground, resulting in several dips and mounds that trip you up. The last one almost gets you, barely enough time to catch yourself. But the dogs always stop for you, making sure you have your balance before they continue. Each time you hope they are finally stopping, and you’ll be able to catch your breath, but then they shoot off again, clearly not having reached their destination yet.

You’re moving so fast across the grass you don’t have a chance to look up and spot the same guy from before, with the black hoodie and inviting smile.

Tess lets go of one sleeve, making you stumble to the side, Toast right there to make sure you stay upright.

“What are you doing, silly dog?”

He parks himself firmly on the ground, your sleeve, now completely soaked with slobber still gripped tightly between his teeth. Guess you allowed yourself to relax too soon.

He glances to the side and a flash of black and grey passes your periphery. There is no time to worry about that as you focus on freeing yourself from Toast’s grip, wrestling with your dog for control and ownership of the situation.

He really had never acted this way before. You aren’t prepared for it.  

Slowly but surely you are worming free, you can feel the material start to rip at the seams.

With one sharp, swift tug you are thrust to the left. “Aaarrgh.”

Your body slams directly into something sturdy, hands finding its heaving middle. A dull ache permeates from your side and for a few moments you are too dazed to focus on anything. Whilst you are trying to regain your composure you don’t notice the two sneaky dogs wrapping themselves around your legs, both their leads becoming tangled and trapping you.

“Ma’am is this your dog?”

The soft sound shakes you back to life. Pressing against you was the boy in the black hoodie, his face so uncomfortably close you could smell his breath. Not that it smells bad, is that a note of cinnamon?

“Urh,” you stutter, still not fully understanding the situation.

The guy is moving his hands around you like there is a force field preventing him from touching you. His face scrunched up, trying to figure out what boundaries he shouldn’t cross. It was kind of cute really.

A small chuckle escapes your lips.

“Oh, you think this is funny do you.” His tone is accusatory but the smile creeping onto his lips suggests otherwise. His shoulders relax, and his torso softens against you, the awkwardness diluting.

“Not funny, mildly amusing perhaps.”

He rolls his eyes and glances down. Following his gaze, taking in the two dogs who were trying to look as innocent as possible. Toast’s head is cocked to the side, one ear flopped inside out from the extreme angle. The grey dog, who you now know belongs to him, is  sitting next to his leg, one paw lifted in the air, big black eyes wide and very effectively making you feel sorry for her.

“Aww, she’s so sweet,” you fuss.

“Hmm, she knows that, she’s using it against you, don’t give in.”

The guy waves his arms to swat at the little dog’s ears. The sudden movement causes the lead to restrict even more, toppling you forward. His arms instinctively wrap around your torso, balancing both of you out.

Straightening yourself back up again you look at Toast, your lips in a tight line and whisper, “Toast, this is embarrassing, why?”

The guy seems to notice your embarrassment. “It’s okay,” he offers.  

He leans over to inspect the situation. “I think we should be able to undo this,” he glares at his own dog, “as long as there is no more funny business.”

She gives a little yip which Toast copies.

“Hi, by the way,” he catches your eye, tongue lightly grazing over his lips, “I’m sorry, this isn’t usually how I first talk to pretty girls.”

“Wow, that ever work for you?” you laugh.

Shrugging his shoulders, he replies, “half and half.”

You shake your head, carefully tugging at one of the leads, working out if it’s yours or his. Both of you annoyingly choosing brown leather. Running your fingers along it, you reach the handle, which is still slipped over your wrist. It’s yours then.

“I’m Y/N,” you hold out your hand the best you can, despite it being stuck in between the both of you.

“Tom.” He can only reach your fingers which he gives a little shake.

Shimmying the handle off your wrist you work to unravel them. Tom follows suit. Both the dogs begin to stir, not happy you’re about to foil their plan. It starts off as small yips but soon escalates into alternating barks.

“Guys, don’t get upset just because we have unravelled your plan.”

“Literally,” you add.

Even over the barking you can hear little grunts coming from Tom as he tries to be as delicate as possible when unlooping the lead from around your legs. In a brief moment of pause you glance at him, red splotches showing on his cheeks and droplets of morning dew concentrated on a small patch of his curls. He must have brushed past a bush or tree only moments earlier.

Just as you are starting to get wrapped up in him you feel a pressure subside from your lower half, one of the leads comes completely free.

“Oh, thank god,” you both say in unison.

Unfortunately, there is something you had yet to notice. The dogs didn’t drag you to a random spot. They brought you all the way over the fountain, where the sheets of ice have only just begun to melt.

Distracted by your premature celebrations you don’t see Toast wiggling his body, a typical sign he is ready to pounce. He barges his entire weight into you, one of your legs lifting in the air and coming down on a still tangled section of leather. The shift in balance pulls your other leg from under you. Without even a moment to think you start to tumble backwards.

A bark and a rip echo in your ears as the wind whips them. A pair of powerful arms fold round you as a body follows, lowering over you, hugging you close.

“Got you,” a strained voice says.

You are lying almost horizontal, your fingers dipping into the water. Tom is hovering above you, his face so close you can see the exact and slightly unusual curve of his nose, the way the bridge expands to the side as opposed to upwards.

A numbness begins to envelop your fingers and you draw them back, realising they are submerged.

“You okay?” concern etched on his face.

“Mhm,” you nod, pushing him away from you as you try to get back to your feet.

Toast is looking away from you, guilt written all over his face. You rub your gloveless fingers, all feeling leaking from the tips.

What did it feel like to be warm and toasty? To have actual blood circling through your fingers? It is impossible to remember. Thoughts of roaring fireplaces, bloated hot water bottles and steaming mugs of hot chocolate overcome you.

You blow into your hands, your breath coming out shaky as your teeth chatter.

“Here, let me.” Tom holds your hands, his smooth fingertip kissing your palm as he draws them to his lips. A shiver runs through you but this one has nothing to do with the cold.

Your concentration is fixed on his face, his lips pucker as an exhale of warm air fills your cupped hands. His eyes drift up to yours as he blows a second time.

“Mmm, that’s so good.” Eyes flickering from the sensation.

Now it is his turn to concentrate on you, his lips picking up at the sides whilst you bite down on your own.

Below you, Toast and Tess share smug glances. Dogs shouldn’t be able to do that. But what do they say, dogs match their owners? Maybe they know what’s best for you too.

Pulling away, Tom says, “why don’t we go get a coffee to warm your fingers?”

Your hands intertwine like tree roots, destined to support each other for all their remaining years.

tagging: @thelazypangolin @uglypastels @tomhollandthirst @mysteryavengers @h-osterfield @theprincesofasgard @underoos-shield @spiderrrling @dtftomholland @rachramblesstuff @merryspidermas  @fratboievans  @spacetalbot

[nahaslo]

Shelterdog.pet petz 4 file

Shelterdog.pet petz 4 file how to#

Shelterdog.pet petz 4 file plus#

I can’t believe how many animal puns are out there. We guarantee you’ll laugh out loud at least once when you read these! Menu. (The kitten was born without a pectoral muscle.). Let’s get this list of punny cat names started by looking at ideas for female cats. You can come up with your own pun-based dog names by replacing part of a common name with canine-centric words like bark, arf, woof, pup, pooch, chew, paw-you get the idea. Let's keep in touch and we'll send more your way. If you have a male fish and are looking for a unique name, consider these pun choices. The The Big Bang Theory star named her cat after the metal in Wolverine's claws because "she has metal inside her." Dogs Cats All. Miley Cyrus – Emu, Mate and Sophie (Shetland Sheepdog, German Shepherd, Maltese-Toy Poodle, respectively) 8. The theme today however is animals, lots of them. Aunt Messy, if you are keeping your Betta in two gallons are less, they will be very stressed by water changes. Not only these fish puns are absolutely hilarious, but they also might relieve you from the stress of picking your new pets' name. This cute list of funny dog puns includes pet puns for pound puppies, old dogs, and various dog breeds in between. (Alas, we were unable to track down photos of every single pet. The legendary chihuahua split his 14 years between two homes: Faithfully tucked in Hilton's purse, or lazing around in a custom, just-for-him, two-story mansion. Avoid an infestation by knowing the warning signs. Eric Khachatourian - This is an example of a visual pun. By submitting email you agree to get Bored Panda newsletter. These are the absolute top that we came up with. We all know that this is not entirely true, and even pet store employees might get bored from all the animal friendships from time time. If you ever buy one of these fish, you definitely won't be needing to change them. It’s best if the dog-themed replacement rhymes or starts with the same letter as the original. The bettas I've had live between 4 and 5 years in perfect health. Twitter user criminalcal shared a photo she snapped at an unknown pet store which has funny names of all their betta fishes picked out. If you have any group ideas for the Dog Name Puns page, we would love to hear them. And for some actually good nomenclature, don't miss the 30 Best Celebrity Baby Names of All Time. Don't risk misdiagnosis by doing it too soon, CDC says. What’s a comprehensive list of dog puns without funny pun names? (And no, I will not apologize for that pun.) They are not. Likewise with Hathaway and her Star Wars-inspired pup. Oh, but your creativity spikes and you can come up with some ingenious jokes as good as these funny names for animals spotted in some aquarium fish store. As such, the only parts of Eye in the Dark you could see were, well, the eyes. celebrity life So stupid, yet so funny: Best celebrity name puns of all time. A lot of research has gone into the memory span of fish (this article is just a popular science example), and the '3 seconds memory span of goldfish' theory has long been debunked. The names are there to attract attention, nothing more.

Shelterdog.pet petz 4 file plus#

Your list has given me some more inspiration (I hadn’t got any “Grrrr” ones, plus several others). Bettas hail from river eddies and still areas. They’ll live their entire lives chained to whichever string of letters you decide.///.

Shelterdog.pet petz 4 file how to#

Celebrity food puns came out all over the shop and we didn’t quite know how to stop. Yes, we're aware that the true star of Legally Blonde 2 is fictional. The world-renowned chef named his cat after a dish even the least competent cook (yours truly) can throw together. We've compiled a list of some of the best cow puns. Such hilarity! The reason you here about that so often is because they will often jump into puddles and shallow areas, but they usually die sooner when they do. Please enter your email to complete registration. The song "Pablow the Blowfish," from Miley Cyrus & Dead Petz, is dedicated to the blowfish. Additionally, celebrity name puns are also a common theme for dog names.

[pbandjaylos]

Jaylos Fanfic: Bark Woof Bow Wow Bark Roof Arf!

Hey guys! I know it’s been forever, but here’s a little sequel I wrote for Because I Love You which you can find here. If you haven’t read the first one, that’s totally fine. This fic would still make sense as a stand alone. Also there are some references to the Wicked World series in this fic. Enjoy! Comments and suggestions are very much appreciated... :)

"Dude, wait up!" Carlos urged as he chased the dog across the Tourney field.

They had been practicing some tricks, when suddenly, Dude broke into a run. And so, the white-haired teen had been chasing him throughout Auradon Prep ever since.

They ran through the lockers area, athletics area, and he even passed by members of the FK Ball Committee who were hanging up fliers for the upcoming event. And that's how they ended up racing through the Tourney field. 

He couldn't figure out what made the dog run away in the first place!

Carlos could feel sweat trickling down his forehead and his heartbeat racing. Just when he thought Dude was slowing down, the dog took a sharp turn to the right. Luckily, Carlos turned just in time to avoid tripping. They were now approaching the School Entrance.

Dude finally started to slow down once they reached the Beast's Statue.

Finally.... Carlos thought, slowing down as well. He looked around, but surprisingly, no one was there. It was empty. 

At least no one was there to see them. It would've been embarrassing if everyone knew that Carlos had just gone on a wild-dog chase.... It sort of reminded him of his mother... He shuddered at the thought.

Fortunately, it was just Carlos and Dude.... and--

"J-Jay?!" Carlos managed to choke out.

He was still very much out of breath.

Jay just grinned and bent down to scratch Dude's head. "Good dog." he praised.

Carlos furrowed his brow. Then, something shiny in Jay's hand caught his eye. It was a dog whistle. "What-did-you-do-that-for?!" he panted heavily.

Jay laughed. "How else was I supposed to get you out here?"

"I don't know.... I think it's called a PHONE!" Carlos exasperated.

"Never heard of one. Maybe I'll get you one someday..." Jay grinned smugly. The younger teen rolled his eyes, grinning too, as he thought of the phone Jay got him that was currently sitting in his pocket.

He remembered that day like it was yesterday.

Nearly a month had passed since then– the day of the Auradon Heritage Festival.

Everything happened so fast! One minute they were married in the Marriage Booth, and the next minute, they were dating! And, right after that, Jay surprised him with a new phone.

Good times... Carlos smiled to himself.

"Besides, it's funnier this way." Jay said, handing him a bottle of water. Carlos smiled as he received the bottle. He consumed it so quickly, taking big gulps, that Jay had to make sure his boyfriend didn't choke. The icy water refreshed his throat making him feel much better.

"Thanks." Carlos exhaled, returning the bottle back to Jay who handed him a towel.

He wiped the sweat off his face and placed the towel behind his back. Then, Jay handed him a helmet. "What's this for?" Carlos asked curiously as Jay secured the helmet on his head.

"You'll see..." Jay winked, wearing his own. Carlos smiled.

Sensing that they were about to leave, he crouched down, patted Dude's head and told him to go back into the campus. Afterwards, Jay held his hand and led him down the school's road until they stopped at a shiny, new motorcycle.

"Isn't this Ben's?" Carlos asked.

"Yeah, but I borrowed it..." Jay replied.

"Borrowed?" the younger boy raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think that was even in your vocabulary,” he huffed in amusement.

"Ha. Ha," Jay said, rolling his eyes. "Well, let's just say I'd 'borrow' anything for my boyfriend..." he smirked.

Carlos flushed pink.

"Awww. You're adorable when you blush, you know?" he added with a friendly noogie. "Hop on, C!" Jay said, gesturing to the seat.

"Is it safe?" Carlos replied reluctantly.

"Would I ever let you fall?" the older teen smiled.

“Yes, actually...” Carlos teased, finally getting on the motorcycle.

Jay sat in front of him to drive.

"Hold on!" Jay said, starting the engines. 

Carlos wrapped his hands around Jay's waist, holding on tightly. Jay’s body tensed up at first, his face reddening instantly. But as they drove off, he relaxed with a smile tugging at his lips.

Once they started moving, the school slowly got smaller and smaller until it finally disappeared from range. They rode through the tall green trees. Colorful flowers were in bloom and the spring breeze hit their faces with different scents as they drove through the forest. It was a perfect afternoon.

"We're here!" Jay announced as the motorcycle came to a stop.

The older teen went down first. Then, he carefully lifted Carlos off the motorcycle and set him on the ground. Once they removed their helmets, Jay led Carlos to a hanging rope bridge. "C'mon! We're almost there!" Jay said excitedly, pulling Carlos towards the bridge.

Carlos chuckled at how eager his boyfriend was to get there. "Alright, I'm coming." Together, their fingers intertwined with one another, as they led each other across the bridge. Carlos didn't dare to look down and kept his eyes solely on Jay's. Those dark, beautiful eyes secured him. Jay, on the other hand, was doing the same. His eyes were pouring into Carlos' chocolate brown ones. And to make sure they didn't trip or stumble as he led the way, he would glance at his feet every so often.

"Wanna tell me where we're going, Jay?" Carlos said as they reached the end of the bridge.

"You'll find out soon enough," Jay replied, keeping it all a surprise, "My adorable little puppy..." he added, ruffling his white hair.

Carlos laughed.

That was Jay's nickname for him.

"Now, just close your eyes..." Jay whispered.

Carlos did as he was told

 Slowly, Jay held his hand and guided him forward.  He was careful not to let the younger boy trip as they walked through the path and finally reached their destination. Carlos could hear the birds chirping and water softly crashing down.

"Open them..." Jay said slowly.

Carlos opened his eyes.

They widened as he saw the beautiful sight in front of them. An enchanted lake.

The very same lake that Mal had been going on and on about since her date with Ben. The lake where Mal first found love...

"Whoa..." he said in amazement. There were trees and flowers everywhere. To his left he saw a waterfall producing mist that touched the light to create a magnificent rainbow. And to his right, a marble structure with a picnic set for two.

A date for him and Jay.

Jay smiled at his boyfriend as they approached the platform. They sat down together. Carlos looked at the older teen and beamed.

"I love it!" he exclaimed.

Jay grinned.

"--and I love you..." the young boy added with a wider grin.

Jay blushed furiously. 

He opened the basket and brought out all their favorite foods– chocolate, cookies, some sandwiches, more chocolate, soda and brownies.... with chocolate.

Jay got one of them and fed it to his boyfriend. Carlos willingly ate this and giggled as the older teen wiped off the chocolate that spread all over his mouth.

"So... What's all this for?" Carlos asked curiously, nibbling on a cookie.

"Why? Is it wrong to want to surprise your boyfriend with a picnic date?" Jay raised an eyebrow, smirking.

The white-haired boy laughed, nudging him playfully on the shoulder. "Not at all..." he replied with a grin.

"Anyway, it's not like you had anything else planned, right?" Jay questioned.

"As a matter of fact, I was in the middle of teaching Dude tricks until you rudely interrupted...." Carlos teased accusingly. "But how hard could that be?" the older teen countered. "After all, you can speak dog..."

"Yeah. But it's a lot harder than you think," the younger teen replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh really?" Jay arched a brow. "Teach me then..." he dared.

"You're on!" Carlos accepted, grinning.

They sat up and the younger boy started, "'Bark!' means hello..."

"Okay..." Jay nodded, taking note.

"'Roof!' means goodbye..." Carlos continued.

"Gotcha.."

"Okay... And 'Woof!' means thanks..." he finished. "Any questions, my student?" he chuckled.

"Actually, yes. I do have one." Jay replied.

"Okay then, what is it?" Carlos asked curiously.

"What does 'Bark Woof Bow Wow Bark-Roof Arf!' mean?"

"Oh! That's easy! It means will you go to the ball with me?" Carlos translated, not realizing what he had just said.

Jay smirked, waiting for an answer from the oblivious boy. Once Carlos processed this, his eyes widened.

"Wait, what?!" he asked in disbelief, making sure he heard it correctly.

"I said 'Bark Woof Bow Wow Bark-Roof Arf?'" Jay repeated.

"I-I-don't know what to say..." the white-haired teen stuttered, totally speechless.

He had forgotten about the Fighting Knights Ball this past week. Mal and the girls had just come up with a theme for the ball. It was going to be a Neon Lights Party, a total howler! But because he had been so busy with school and everything else, it just totally slipped his mind.

"Is that a yes?" Jay asked nervously, fidgeting with his fingers.

Carlos laughed.

Jay was adorable when he was nervous.

This made his request all the more irresistible. "Of course!" he exclaimed.

Jay was ecstatic with this response. A huge grin formed on his face. Carlos was grinning now as well. "So you're my date now, huh?" Jay clarified.

"Yeah. I guess so..." Carlos flushed. "Wanna practice?" he asked, standing up as he offered his hand to Jay.

He hesitated.

"What's wrong, Jay?"

"Uh... I don't really know how to... um.... waltz..." he replied awkwardly.

Carlos just laughed. "Don't be silly! It's easy!" he said. "I'll teach you..." Carlos smiled encouragingly.

Jay looked into his eyes, full of admiration, and felt better. "Alright," he sighed, standing up.

"Just follow me..."

"Take my hand," Carlos sang, remembering a song that was playing on the radio the night they first started dating. Jay grinned and took his hand. "Take a breath. Pull me close and take one step," the freckled teen continued as they started dancing.

Jay accidentally stepped on his foot and quickly flustered. His nerves got the better of him as his palms got sweaty and his legs felt like jelly.

"Keep your eyes locked on mine. And let the music be your guide." Carlos sang reassuringly, locking eyes with Jay.

He relaxed.

It was just him and Carlos. It didn't matter that he didn't know how to waltz perfectly. Carlos accepted him no matter what. And simply being with him–that's what mattered to him most.

They danced around the platform. Jay felt more confident this time, so he sang, "Won't you promise me?"

"Oh, won't you promise me that you'll never forget?" Carlos joined.

"To keep dancing wherever we go next!" they chorused, waltzing freely in circles.

"It's like catching lightning, the chances of finding someone like you..." they sang, grinning at each other. Carlos spun around while Jay held his hand. "It's one and a million the chances of feeling the way we do." Jay pulled the white-haired teen closer, and they danced to the beat.

"And with every step together," both sang, watching each other's steps. It was like they were playing Tourney, or pranking back on the Isle. They were always one step ahead of each other. They knew every move and anticipated every turn. Their synchronization was impeccable! Jay was starting to get the hang of it. He smiled as he sang the next line with Carlos. "We just keep on getting better..."

"So can I have this-" "Can I have this dance-" they sang one after the other. Carlos smiled as Jay twirled him and ended in a dip. The older twin leaned forward which made the younger boy faintly blush. "Can I have this dance?" they harmonized.

Jay quickly reclined from the dip and offered his hand to the boy, who was now red. "It's my turn now..." he said. Carlos chuckled and happily accepted Jay's hand. They began waltzing again as the older teen sang, "Take my hand. I'll take the lead."

"And every turn will be safe with me." he sang, spinning Carlos then pulling him closer. Carlos wrapped his arms around Jay's neck and felt much better. They were both blushing like crazy, but they knew they didn't have to feel awkward. They were still best friends. Nothing would change that.

"Don't be afraid, afraid to fall." Jay sang. Carlos laughed as he stumbled slightly. But Jay immediately caught him. "You know I'll catch you through it all..." Jay winked. Carlos giggled because he knew this line was so true. It was like the song was made for them. Jay would never leave his side and Carlos would never leave his.

"You can't keep us apart."

"Even a thousand miles can't keep us apart." Carlos added, stretching their arms away from each other, but not fully letting go. Then, they immediately returned to each other, like a rubber band. They were inseparable, like magnets. "'Cause my heart is wherever you are!" they exclaimed together. This waltz was turning into a freestyle.

The chorus of the song consisted mostly of random spinning and turning. But throughout the entire thing, they still had a blast. Jay lifted Carlos and twirled him around in the air. It would've been embarrassing if people saw them. But the two VK's didn't care. They couldn't express love on the Isle, but now they could. And the feeling couldn't have been greater.

“So can I have this-"

"Can I have this dance?" Jay repeated, after a pretty exhausting round of dancing. They laughed. Both were so out of breath, but they still managed to sing, "Can I have this dance?" 

They eventually finished their waltz and returned to the picnic mat. The two boys stayed in the Enchanted Lake for what seemed like hours. They didn't want to leave, so they decided to camp out under the stars. It was now night and they lied on the mat and stared at the sky.

Carlos nuzzled his face unto Jay's shoulder and said, "Shouldn't we be heading back?"

"Nah." he replied casually.

"But curfew. FG is gonna be furious." he replied. "Aren't you at least a little worried?"

"I don't need to be. I'm with you..." Jay said nonchalantly.

Carlos gave a sheepish grin.

"You're such an adorable little puppy...." Jay laughed. So, the white-haired boy stuck his tongue out to mimic a dog. Then, he went on all fours and started doing dog tricks.

"Aww..." Jay sighed with a genuine smile.

"Bow Wow Woof!" Carlos barked repeatedly. "You know I can't understand you, right?" said Jay rolling his eyes. "Bow Wow Woof!" Carlos barked again.

"What's that even supposed to mean?" the older teen furrowed his eyebrows.

"Oh Jay..." the younger teen shook his head. "It means 'I love you,' silly!" he exclaimed, pouncing on Jay lightly and sealing their lips with a chaste kiss.

"Well, then, Bow Wow Woof, too..." Jay grinned, after pulling apart, his adorable little puppy on his chest.

They both slept soundly in each other's arms, dreaming of what had been a perfect night...