#Leave your dogs at home. Give them a big yard

[tallsprout]

Honestly, This. 1000x this. I'm so damn tired of dog owners thinking this is an acceptable way to live life.

We gotta do something about the way dog owners behave. No other pet owner is just bringin the pet wherever the fuck they go all the time but for some reason with dog owners they think its fine if they bring their dog to the gym and taco bell and whatever. And you invite a dog owner to your house where youve got your own pets youve got your dog and your cats and whatever it is you have and this dog owner shows up at your door like "oh i brought my dog i hope thats okay hes so sweet youll love him" and it is always the most untrained poorly behaved agressive animal that has ever lived. And we all have to pretend like its acceptable behaviour well im sick of it

[dailymanners]

Compliment someone on one of their personality traits 

Write a handwritten card to someone to say thanks

Text a friend to share your gratitude for something they did for you

Leave a positive review online of a restaurant you like

Tell a friend what you love about their children

Compliment a photo someone posts on social media

Let someone cut in front of you in line

Introduce two people who you think would get along

Pick up trash on the ground and put it in the garbage

Compliment someone on their clothing or hair

Use old grocery bags to pick up dog poop you see on your neighbor's lawn

Shovel snow off the sidewalk in your neighborhood

Offer to mow the lawn for an elderly neighbor

Give up your seat on the plane to let a couple sit together

Talk to someone at a party that doesn’t seem to know anyone

Invite someone new in your town to a social event and introduce them to everyone

Invite a friend that you haven’t seen in a while out to lunch

Offer to pick up a friend at the airport

Reach out to an old friend to let them know of an experience you had with them that you value

Spend time with the elderly at a local retirement home

Offer to bring someone else's grocery cart back to the store

Keep an extra pen in your purse to give people when they need one

Put a positive note in a library book

Attend events that support your friends’ passions (like an art show, musical performance, etc…)

Donate unused items to charity

Bring snacks to the local fire station

Keep packs of toothpaste or packs of socks in your bag to give to homeless people

Post an uplifting photo on a friend’s social media

Compliment someone on something they’ve done or accomplished

Tell a parent that they’re doing a great job raising their kids

Bring or send your mother flowers

Bring a friend a small gift next time you see them

Buy a warm meal to give to a homeless person

Share an article, event, or other information with someone who might be interested

Help to connect a friend seeking a job to someone who has a job to offer

Help a neighbor bring in their groceries

Make dinner for your friend group

Compliment a neighbor on how nice their yard looks

Bring in the trash bins for your neighbor after trash has been picked up

Send an email to a former teacher to let them know how they impacted your life

Leave a thank you note in your mailbox for your mail carrier

Give a flower to a stranger

Buy a gift card to give to a stranger

Ofter to be there for a friend when they are struggling with something

Give bottles of water to people working outside on a hot day

Buy a sandwich for the next person in the lunch line

Leave a sticky note with a positive note somewhere public, like at a bus stop

Bring brownies to your next neighborhood association meeting

Scrape the ice off the car windshield of the car next to yours

Leave a positive comment on someone else's social media post, #ProsocialPost

Put coins in someone’s parking meter that is about to run out

Slow down to let someone merge in front of you in traffic

Be on time (don’t waste others’ time)

Hold the door open for the person walking behind you

Make a double batch of dinner so that you can give a meal to someone in need

Give directions to someone who is lost

Give an extra big tip when eating out

Practice compassion when someone else is struggling

Be self-compassionate when you’re struggling with something

Share veggies you grow in your garden with friends, neighbors, and family

Become an organ donor

Volunteer at the local animal shelter

Bring dinner to a friend who's just had a baby

Build a “little free library” box in your yard with books for everyone to read

[penvisions]

there's a place and time {joel miller x reader}

Pairing: Younger / No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader

Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff

A/N: this literally came out of nowhere, a random thought on the way to work and then a manic two hours of writing once i got home. this turned out a little different than first imagined, but i hope it reads well!

navigation || joel miller masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Why don’t you date?”

“Excuse me?” The form crouched in between kitchen counters looked up at you with a raised brow, surely mishearing the question.

“Dating, I know you know what that is.” You repeat yourself as you push your arms back to brace on the counter and hop up on it. The granite of it is cold on your bare thighs, the shorts you were wearing thrown on haphazardly when a panic stricken pair of teenagers had begun to bang on your door in the early afternoon. The words of ‘fire’ and “help!” spurring you into action where you had been napping on your couch. Now though, the oven was off, the blackened frozen pizza still on the rack and covered in foam from the fire extinguisher neither of them had known how to use. Their father had sent them upstairs, thanking you for helping them out and getting it taken care of. “Or the concept at least, yeah?”

“Don’t mean it’s any of your business, little lady.” Joel’s voice leaves no room for further conversation as he realizes you’re more serious than need be. Little quips between you two common, the unspoken understanding of not discussing the reason for your presence in the neighborhood mutual.

“I dunno, I remember you being real keen on the idea of me babysitting.” You take a sip of your soda, swiped from the fridge after everything had calmed down. “Would do you a favor now, should you need the night off for some…fun.”

“Dating and fun are two different things.”

“Dating can be fun, if you do it with the right person.”

“Yeah, and what do you know about that? Saw you move in all by your lonesome. No big, burly man helping you with your boxes.”

The fizzy drink sours on your tongue and you toss him a scowl as he stands. He’s a few feet away but you can feel the warmth of him as he stands at his full height. He’s reaching to close the oven door, the creak of metal on metal loud in the beat of silence.

“You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on your perky ass, Miller.”

“Language, you’re in my house.” His brow furrows and he pins you with a stern look. Something you’d seen him give to his brother, his girls, the neighbor across the way when she wouldn’t take the hint that he didn’t want her dog shit in his yard.

“Old men like yourself deserve to have some fun every once in a while. They deserve happiness too.”

“Even if I did, it’s no concern of yours. Your daddy didn’t help pay for two degrees for you to end up babysitting for grocery money.”

The rebuttal on the tip of your tongue suddenly dissolved as you felt a shiver run down your spine. He’s right, you know he’s right. But you just…you couldn’t even open the envelope with the certificates let alone add them to your resume and begin the arduous task of job hunting.

“Fuck you, I was only offering to help out a neighbor.” The words are rough, rounded out with the weight of too many emotions. You shove off from the counter, abandoning your half-finished drink. A delicacy you enjoyed only over at his house, too expensive for you to indulge in as bills you never anticipated paying became your responsibility.

“I didn’t mean-“ He had the self-awareness to realize he said the wrong thing. His hands coming up from his waist to reach out for you, but you don’t look over your shoulder as you make your way through the kitchen.

“Don’t come to me if you do need someone to look after the girls. I wouldn’t take your money anyway.”

“C’mon now,” His full lips shape around your name, but you’re already out the door. Resisting the urge to let it slam shut behind you, your anger still so sharp and hot. But the girls didn’t deserve to feel it, even the echo of it in the slamming of a door. Despite being a dick, Joel was a good father to them. He’d made his home a nurturing and loving environment. You didn’t want to taint it with your stained hands.

As he stands there in his empty kitchen, the smell of burnt dough, smoke, and ammonia dizzies him as he watches you cross over his yard to yours next door. The blank expression on your face and the faint smears of dried pant all over your legs makes him regret his fast words. He had been going for teasing, but of course they had come out harsh and wounding.

You were someone he didn’t know how to interact with. So sweet and polite with the girls, with the neighbors. But you were a firecracker with him. Teasing, whipping words that rung around his head, and he recalled far too often. The little smirk that pulled at your lips as you said them, waited for his response or sputtering lack of one. His own pulled from him, making him feel like a teenager again, like a young man you hadn’t been suddenly left alone to raise a child. Like his old self, someone who stood a chance with you as you gave him your attention time and time again.

He had only ever met you through the words of your parents, the people who had once occupied the house beside his own. He had moved in with two six-year-olds just as you had shoved off to college upstate. The running joke was that it was perfect timing for him to have missed out on the perfect babysitter.

-

Graduation is supposed to be a time of celebration and proud smiles, at least that’s what everyone else got. The day you had counted down on the calendar and crossed off the passing ones as it neared was now a blur of too bright colors and phone calls with people telling you things you didn’t want to think about, let alone hear as your new reality.

A car accident, on the drive upstate. Both parents, reckless driver.

A house that had been recently paid off, left to you. Your name already on the deed, something you didn’t want to think about too hard. Close, you had been close with each of them and them as a unit. A small family but understanding. It was yours, the backdrop to your life and suddenly the two people were only memories.

The move had been quick, the apartment you shared with fellow graduate students mostly books and a beautiful desk. The bedframe taken apart to go while the shelves had been left for the next occupants.

You hadn’t shared the news with any of your roommates or friends, not wanting to taint their own celebrations and happy memories of the day you all worked so hard for. Addresses were exchanged, well wishes were meant, but of course it all faded as time had gone on. Their news of job offers and exciting dates had been good to hear, but with no good things to respond with of your own, it was hard to feel the same way about them as you once had. They reached out, worry coloring their words, which made you feel even worse.

It haunts you for days, as you seal yourself into the home that is now yours alone. The paint slathered on canvas dries and the brushes coated in it turn into hardened caps over the bristles. You’re allowing things to sit for too long, the water evaporating in the cups you use to rinse between swatches of color. The open paint tubes oxidizing and becoming unsalvageable. But you have no control.

The bed becomes damp with nights of sweat, from your tossing and turning body as the heat rises and the air conditioning that needs to be repaired is just another phone call. You don’t even think you know where your phone is. It can’t bear bad news if you don’t answer it. It can’t carry the end of your world if you don’t let it.

There’s a sharp knock on the door at some point, in the midst of the haze of days after storming out of Joel’s kitchen. You hadn’t been able to dissect the sounds of life going on outside your closed windows.

But it had, to the point where now someone was calling on you to make you return to it.

Shrugging on a robe, you hold it tight to your aching body as you push up from the bed. Bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor as the heat fills the home.

“What?” You can’t help but bark as you swing the door open, only to find a concerned Joel on the porch, with your phone in his hand.

“I found this in the kitchen, must’ve fallen off the counter in the madness of getting the fire out and callin’ me.” He holds it out to you, but you don’t move to take it. “Figured you needed it, there’s a lot of missed calls and voicemails. I may have left a few too, to check on ya. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Been here, painting.”

“Okay, that’s…that’s good. Got everything you need? Food, water, someone comin’ to fix the A/C?” It’s an apology in the only way Joel Miller is capable of giving, the need to make sure someone is getting what they need, that they’re taken care of. He’s a good provider, to his girls, to his brother, to the neighborhood when he’s not beat down from long days in the sun with concrete and paint dried to his skin, with wood shavings and stain splotched on his jeans.

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m my own person.”

Your name leaves his mouth on a sigh.

“I know that, but your parents…I know that kinda thing is-“

“I’m fine. Thanks for returning this.” You snatch it from his hand and go to close to door, not willing to hear what he has to say on the loss of your parents. For his credit, he let’s you. Knowing that you’re going through the motions, through the event in your own way. It doesn’t stop him from speaking loud enough for you to hear him through the door.

“The girls will be by with dinner later! Try to be nice to them, they ain’t me!”

-

The meal delivered by two smiling teenagers does lift your spirits a bit, even if all you do is shower and do a few loads of laundry. It’s a long process, the climb out of the hole that you had found yourself in.

Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. You’re back to quipping across the yard with the man. His daughters delighting in the comraderies that underlies it all. It’s the height of summer now, the girls spending time with you to try their hand at painting. Sarah is better with bursts of color that compliment each other, vaguely floral. While Ellie is better with a muted palette imposed between detailed line art.

They always thank you for the time and attention, offering to help you clean up or tidy the house in exchange for watching over them when you notice Joel’s truck is still gone from their own driveway until late. They aren’t helpless, but you know what loneliness feels like and you don’t want them to become familiar with it.

You finally open the envelope containing your degrees, the last letters from your friends and pen down long responses. The stamps cute as you drop them off at the post office, the ornate certificates framed and hung above the desk in your father’s old office alongside his own.

Joel joins them most days, mid meal if he can make it in time. Food finding it’s way into your kitchen, something you’re sure is the combined effort of two pairs of small hands and one pair of big hands. The least you could do is turn it into something for everyone involved to enjoy.

But just as things seem to progress, they fall back apart. It wasn’t over a throwaway comment this time, though, but a piece of mail delivered from a local gallery asking after your willingness to partake in an exhibit. That they expressed their deepest condolences in this trying time.

The paint dries up again, another set of brushes left to ruin. The door goes unanswered, as does the phone you can hardly stand to look at. The lights don’t glow in the windows once the sun sets, no music is heard from behind thin screens, nor the sound of you humming along to it.

The house becomes a burden once again, shielding you from the world you as you feel the loss of your parents all over again.

-

You don’t hear the door open from where you’re sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, the shower is running but you didn’t make it under the spray. You’re fully clothed, having reached down underneath the vanity for a bottle of shampoo when your fingers had brushed over something else. A bottle of your mother’s favorite perfume. The one that lingered in every room she occupied, on every piece of clothing she adorned. It was her, the perfect encapsulation of who she was.

And it was staring at you inconspicuously from the shelf. The mere sight of it tearing the wound open once again and making it hard to breath.

That’s where Joel finds you. In tears over something as trivial as a tiny glass bottle. But he doesn’t bat an eye, he’s taking in the scene and shutting off the shower in a few easy steps.

“Hey now, come ‘ere, darlin’,” He’s crouching down beside you, hands reaching for your shaking body.

He’s so gentle, so soft as he pulls you up from the tiled floor and into his chest. Leaning back against rhe now closed vanity to support your weight. One hand on the back of your head, holding it to his chest, pleading with you to match his breathing so you don’t hurt yourself.

“Datin’ is hard, you’re right.” His words make you pause, confusion crowding out the wetness lingering in your eyes. The words from a conversation long ago pulling you out of your breakdown, the casual way he continues it.

“It is.” You insist, voice small and muffled as you refuse to pull your face from where it’s pressed against the warmth of his chest.

“Maybe…. maybe you’d be kind enough to try it with this grumpy old man. I’d sure like to give it a shot with someone like you.”

“I ain’t nothin’ special. Just the neighbor girl your dead friends talked about too much.”

“They loved you, darlin’. With everythin’ they had.” He holds tight to the hand you move underneath one of his. Seeking him out, to feel his skin on your own. “You are special, those paintings they showed me, you got a gift, honey.”

“Gifts don’t mean nothin’ when you got no one to share them with.”

“You share ‘em with the girls, they loved coming over here to spend time with you. Share ‘em with me, if you want. The girls and I are in your corner, we got you.”

“You don’t…you don’t want to date me. Every boy-“

“Boys don’t know how to date, that’s only something us old men know how to do. Will you let me show you, how it feels to be taken care of and looked after? To feel appreciated and like you aren’t a hindrance on nightly plans to play fuckin’ video games?”

“I like video games,” You sniffle, voice gaining strength as the conversation goes on. He’s soothing you, even as he just sits on the floor with you in his lap, his arms around you and your body pressed up against him. It’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in months. And it’s just Joel being Joel, it’s just you being you.

“Show me, if you want. Let me get to know you, let me show you what it’s like to be loved, not just sought after for a night of fun.”

“I don’t date old men.”

“No?”

“You’re not that much older than me, so I wouldn’t really call you old.”

“Cause then you’d have to admit you’re old too, huh?” He reads the meaning behind the change of thought, as if he was in your head right there alongside you.

“Yeah, we ain’t old. Life just beat us down, but damn if it didn’t touch your perky ass.” You reach a hand down from where it’s cradled between your chests, to pinch at where his backside it firmly planted on the floor. He jolts a bit, not expecting the action. But his rumbling laugh lightens the air around you both even more so.

“You goin’ soft on me, a compliment like that is makin’ my heart pick up. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, cause you’re a big ole sap.” You can’t help the breathy chuckle that escapes past your lips, the twitch of a smile trying to break out. You can, indeed, feel the way his heart is thudding in his chest. The truth of your words and his making you feel some of the weight lift from your own.

“You ain’t gotta clue how sappy I could me, lemme show you, huh?”

“Only if you promise it’ll make me roll my eyes and groan.” You lean back enough to see his face, the roll of your eyes up to take in his hopeful expression allowing you to know how much he means it. Your own heartbeat picks up and you swear he can feel it too, if the crook of his lips underneath his mustache is any indication.

“Only if you promise to have a smile on your face while you do it.” He leans in, nose brushing against yours. The action so soft, so welcome after the isolation you had subjected yourself to.

“Deal.” You breathe out against his lips.

“It’s a deal then.” He presses them to yours, and damn it all, but it does bring a smile to your face.

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @littlemisspascal @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker

@joelsgreys @tonysopranosrobe @morallyinept

[quillcraftconquer]

Simon, who never wanted a dog. He didn't mind dogs, always stopping to give them a quick pat on the side, and he didn't mind his friends' dogs coercing him to toss a ball for a couple of hours. He just never envisioned himself owning a dog. He spent too much time away from home, and god forbid if anything happened to him, who would even take his dog? 

Still, despite all of his unanswered questions, when he met the tan, leggy stray on a mission that followed him around like he already owned it, he couldn't help but feed it scraps from his dinner, let it sit too close, talk to it whenever everyone else went to bed. 

It wasn't a cute dog. Its body was nicked with tiny scars from its time spent on the streets, and Simon was well aware of the bugs running through its scruffy fur. Its legs were far too tall for its body, accompanied by a small, pointed head with ears too big that stood up when something caught its eye, or drooped comically low when he was relaxed. 

Price complained relentlessly about the “damn dog” that followed Simon to every dinner, whining and scratching at the door when they went to bed, always under their feet while he was trying to walk around the base. It wasn’t until he walked into the showers, making eye contact with Simon and Gaz knelt on the floor, the damn dog enjoying the last remnants of hot water and the empty box of flea medicine tilted against the wall that he knew it was a losing battle, the dog was going to stick around. 

Simon, who didn't want a dog, but spent more money than he had on anything else to bring it home, buy it a nice bed, and a thick leather collar. 

It wasn’t until he stood in the vet's office, watching you run the metal tag through the engraving machine with his information on it that he realized the dog was his. Simon told himself he came here because you were nice to his dog, not commenting on his unique looks or bad behaviors, and how your eyes didn't linger on the dog's scars (or his, foregoing the masks when he did stop in.)

You, of course, didn't mind Simon’s gruff exterior, the way he mumbled ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to your questions, but talked extensively when it came to his dog.You laughed at the way Simon’s nose crinkled when you discussed neutering, or different training methods. You said nothing when Simon would always answer “Not my dog, just a stray.”, but always paid for the best food, treats, and care, almost as if he was convincing himself the dog wasnt going to stick around (because what did in Simon’s life?)

You especially didn't mind when Simon brought up boarding, stating he had to leave for a few weeks. You jumped at the chance, determined to show him that his dog could learn just a few house manners. You let him drop the dog off at your home, gave him access to the cameras, let him survey the yard. 

And if you had known, you wouldn't have minded the late nights Simon was halfway across the world, laying on some shitty bed with security cameras pulled up, watching the dog- his dog- take its signature 3 circles before plopping down on the outdoor couch next to you. 

It was for the dog, he told himself. It definitely didn't have to do with the too tight, too short christmas pajamas you wore in, yes, June, (he had to check the calendar, feeling like he had somehow missed 6 months of the year.) It didn't have to do with the way your fingers lazily dragged over the dog's fur, or the way you pinched the bridge of your nose when the dog tore up another cushion Simon would replace. 

Simon’s thumb punched the side of the phone, the screen darkening as he laid it against his chest, eyes staring up at the darkened ceiling.

It was just about the dog.

[mitskicain]

navi | m.list

. ⁺ . ✦ the doghouse — ken sato x reader

© mitskicain all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

synopsis: you head home from last night’s escapade only for him to come knocking on your door..

content warning: innuendos, suggestive, cursing and profanity

word count: 2k

· · ─────── ·{ ✐ᝰ.ᐟ}· ─────── · ·

002: bird in teeth

The aftermath of that night left the both of you, passed out in the tangle of each other’s bodies. It was hard to slip out of his grasp and when you awoke just before sunrise—his grip around your waist still tight even deep in slumber. As you picked up your clothes that were thrown carelessly on the floor, you looked back and smiled at the sleeping figure, face exhausted but basically beaming with that post-sex glow. God if it were real, you would light up like a goddamn generator. Either way, you smiled, silently thanked him for the night, lifted some cash out his wallet and were on your way.

You heard someone say something about how with one night stands, you always leave something behind—an eyelash, a shirt, your dignity at the door. The general idea was that you’d lose something every single time, thus the notion that you shouldn’t engage in these kind of activities, the idea to you always seemed so ridiculous. Sure, maybe you lost a little bit of self-respect every time you did, giving parts of yourself away like that, but you’d always take something in return. Sometimes you’d take something small and insignificant as a memento: a decorative teaspoon, a comic book, a little trinket—sometimes cash, for the cab ride back home, you’d reason (you took the train).

And in the early morning commute back: so many other women and men that shared the same look of exhaustion, sometimes contentment, more often shame—took the 5AM train with you, all doing the walk of shame. You never agreed with that phrase, somehow found it patronizing and demeaning, or maybe you just felt it didn’t apply to you. The ride back was always so refreshing. You felt reborn, energized—like a succubus after claiming a soul. This was your life, and that's how you would spend your nights, so you could spend your mornings like this: skimping through the half-empty streets in last night’s clothes and ruined makeup with a bit more pep in your step. Hell, sometimes you even skipped all the way back.

It was Sunday morning: the bar you worked at closed on Mondays and would only reopen Tuesday night, so you had a whole faux weekend to sleep away. You passed by the church on the way back and lingered slightly, watching the crowds and families clamor out. I wouldn’t be welcome there, you thought to yourself. They wouldn’t want a sinner like me. Somehow it reminded you of your family back home, in their Sunday best, rushing to get from church towards iHop. That was you guys’ tradition. At the sight of the memory, you felt something inside of you twist and churn. You brushed off the feeling and showed it somewhere deep inside of you, where it wouldn’t threaten to resurface, and continued the walk back home.

When you turned the key towards your apartment, your dogs, Lassie and Strauber greeted you by the door, jumping up at you excitedly. You patted them affectionately and opened the backdoor for them to go run around in the tiny balcony yard. You huffed out contently, watching them run circles and chase each other within the space; you grew up with dogs, can’t imagine a life where you didn’t have some sort of trustworthy companion that would stick with you through thick and thin. When you moved from the country to the big city; your dogs, a tiny suitcase, and the beat up truck were all you took. They stuck their heads out the window, panting and eyes wide—looked back at you, excited for the new life that was to come for them.

The ceiling fan spun circles above you, now sprawled out on the couch. Summers in Tokyo were hot, but you also couldn’t exactly afford the electric bill if you blasted the AC on. At least work had good air conditioning. For now, you just had to figure out a way to beat the heat until you could clock in again. You sighed and put your arm over your eyes, blocking out the sun’s glares, and slowly drifted off to sleep—trying to make up for the lack thereof from last night. You dreamt vaguely of the grass behind your grandfather’s farm, long and thick, billowing in the wind. You, Lassie, and Strauber ran up hills and picked fruit from the trees to enjoy. You napped underneath the huge cherry vines with its flowers perfuming the breeze. The countryside was boring, but it was home. Sometimes you wondered if leaving was the right thing to have done.

Your daydreaming was cut short by an abrupt knock on the door. Getting up and still drowsy from sleep, you didn’t think about looking out the peephole before opening the door to tell off whoever decided to come bother you.

“What do you want?” You bark at the figure in front of you. Only when your eyes adjust to the light do you realize who you’re talking to. You step back a little, alarmed to see him again so soon.

“Hi,” Ken smiles sheepishly through the half open door, “can I come in?”

“What the hell,” you say, a feeling of unease coursing through your body, “how did you get here- how.. how did you find out where I lived?”

He holds up your day planner, covered in stickers, sharpie doodles, and jangling keychains—it held your work card and a small sum of cash too. It must’ve slipped out of your pocket and into some crevice somewhere when he tore off your clothes last night. You scowl at the memory, impressed by your bad luck. Sighing, you unlock the chain and let him in. Lassie and Strauber barked from behind the yard’s screen door, and he jumps a little at the noise.

“You’ve got dogs?”

“No, I don’t—you must be imagining things,” you reply, a little annoyed by the question (and his presence). You didn’t like seeing the men you slept with again, they always found ways to make things weird and awkward.

Ken shoots his hands up in surrender, sensing your hostility.

“What do you want?” You ask again, sitting down the couch, opening up your day planner to figure out what other information he could've gotten. Phone number? Email? Bank account?

“I didn’t take your money,” he comments, you shoot him a look. “Unlike someone here.”

“Hey!” You answer defensively, “it was for a cab, alright? I deserve to be able to get back safely.”

“Cab, sureee,” he draws out his words, his voice carrying a playful lilt, “400 bucks for a cab?”

“It’s a long way from your place to mine,” you cross your arms over your chest, “also you ruined my underwear, I was claiming compensation.”

“What? That little thing?” He laughs, throwing his head back and wrapping his arms over his waist. “Honey, it’s not my fault that fragile little string broke—I wouldn’t expect it to hold up.”

You feel the heat creep up to your cheeks at the mention of last night again. You weren’t the same kind of person in the daylight—easily flustered and more bashful. It was like you had two different personalities living in you, constantly wrestling for control. Maybe your ex was right.

You shake your head and snap out of your internal monologue, trying to regain ground in the conversation.

“Don’t call me honey,” you sneer.

He holds up his hands in surrender again. “Sorry ma’am.”

You roll your eyes.

“Look, thank you for coming all the way to give me my day planner back. It was a- uhm, very generous gesture, but if you will, I have other things to tend to.” You escort him out of your living room and into the hall, motioning for him to leave.

Yeah, other things to tend to do. Like sleeping the entire faux weekend away, and blowing the 400 bucks you lifted on some Indian takeout. Mutton curry sounds so good right now.

You push him out the door, and wait for him to leave, but he just stands there, unmoving. Your eyebrows furrow in frustration and you pinch the bridge of your nose. What was wrong with this guy? You swear he was nothing like the person you had met last night.

“Hello? Earth to Ken? Is that it?” You ask, waving a hand in front of his face. He stands, dumbfounded, eyes wide. After a moment, he finally speaks.

“God, you’re gorgeous in the daylight.”

You’re caught by surprise by this statement, because: one, it’s Ken Sato, famous baseball player saying this to you, but also, two, you thought that it was just something he said under the stench of lust last night. Something people say just to get others to sleep with them. Like I love you or you’re so funny or whatever. You feel your cheeks redden again at his words, and he breaks out into a smile at the sight of this.

“There’s my pretty girl,” he says, “where’ve you been all along? I missed you.”

God.

“Stop,” you look away, embarrassed, hand covering the lower half of your face. “I don’t see my one night stands again, it always turns out messy.”

“One night stand?” He says, face twisting into an expression of amusement. “Well, honey, I’m more than just a one night stand.”

You cringe. “Don’t call me honey.”

Another look of surrender.

“I’m just saying,” a cocky smile stretches across his lips, “it doesn’t have to be that way.”

You shake your head, incredulous.

“Yeah, no way,” you reply, closing the door. He lunges forward and curls his fingers by the edge, fighting back.

“One date,” he says, trying to keep the gap open, “one date and if you don’t like me then I’ll back off.”

“I’m not in the mood to get dressed up and go out.” You say, straining with all your might.

“That’s fine! Then I’ll just come over to your place,” he heaves, “I’ll bring food.”

You’re leaning against the entire door frame, feet slipping from the sheer force of him, but it’s no use—he wins, the door stands wide open.

“Please?” He begs. Your head drops at the sight of him, cursing yourself for getting involved with him in the first place. You should have been more careful, should have picked another guy. Someone that was one and done and you could sweep under the carpet—not someone who would show up to your doorstep and beg for a date.

“Fine,” you sigh, feeling as if arguing was useless. “One date, that’s all you get—and then you fuck off.”

“Yes!” He cheers, fist up in the air like a child celebrating a soccer goal. “I’ll see you tonight at 8!”

You slam the door in his face, eager to get him out. Through the wall, you can still hear his excited whoops. You walk over to the yard and let Lassie and Strauber back in, the both of them making a beeline towards the entrance to sniff out the scent of the man that had just left. Once satisfied, they headed over to your figure on the couch, sprawled in the same position that you were before he came, rudely interrupting your nap. You reached down to comb your fingers through Lassie’s soft fur, long locks of reddish hair, smooth as silk. The dogs yawn and let out a little high pitched sigh.

“I know girl,” you coo, patting the two of them, “just bear with me. It’s just for tonight. Just tonight and then the weird man will leave us alone.”

Weird, you thought. Things had such a way of turning around and rearing its ugly head. When was the last time you had a date? Like a proper one that wasn’t just a precursor to sex? You rake through your memories of the previous months and find all the details meshed together, faces and voices of people blurring into one another. You’d lost track of how many people you used, or how long this kind of thing had been going on for. Deep down you knew it was self destructive, but maybe that was also the point.

I should quit, you thought to yourself, throwing your arm over your eyes again, trying to escape into sleep.

But you tell yourself that same lie every time. You always say you’d quit but you never did.

prev | next

· · ─────── ·{ ✐ᝰ.ᐟ}· ─────── · ·

author’s note: guys I’m so sorry for the delay 😭😭 I’ve just been released from the jaws of hell (uni) and I’ve kind of went ham enjoying my newfound freedom (finally being able to get 8 hours of sleep) also tumblr was being weird like I couldn’t reply to comments or check my messages it sucked bUT ANYWAYS WE’RE BACK SO EXPECT MORE UPDATES SOON 🫵‼️‼️💥💥💥 as always, thank you so much for supporting my work! I hope you guys continue to enjoy what I put out here 🥰🥰👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

taglist: @luneariaa @moonjellyfishie @sweetcheeksbby @shittingonyourgrave @shauu @witcwitchy @fcklxnaa @despacito-uwu16 @mqshido @miffysoo @ybbayk @hore4ken @mochminnie @femmefqtqle @miratastic @lovingyeet @mythicalmo @yourfellowmarzipan @softdumplingposts

[joelsmochi]

honeypie - joel miller

summary: part 2 to honey (can be read as a standalone, doesn’t have much to do with the original plot!) warnings: not proofread, 18+, slight angst?, age gap (everyone is legal!!!!!), bickering/arguing, double date trope womp womp, degradation, dubcon, creampie, joel is a smidge misogynistic insecure and possessive wc: 2.6k a/n: this is mainly just some self indulgent yet rushed storytelling (so sorry, i wrote it in an hour because i was bored at work lol)! i wanna write a part 3 and actually include the beekeeping a little more but i have nooo idea how i’m gonna do it but we WILL get there one day babes!!! until then, enjoy this fluffy angsty sex 😽!!!💓

series masterlist | main masterlist

-

“If you guys are gonna bang when I’m in the house the least you could do is be quiet!” You heard Sarah shout from the other side of Joel’s bedroom door after banging on it.

Joel grimaced, his body tensing beneath you but you were almost oblivious to the complaints of your best friend. Almost.

You didn’t let up on your movements or noises whatsoever and as much as Joel loved those sweet little moans spewing from you as you humped against him, he loved his privacy much more especially when it came to his daughter.

You shook your head profusely when he attempted to get you to stop, insisting on how you were almost there.

“Soclosesoclosesoclose—just w-wait, I’m cu—fuck. Ahh, fuck, I’m cumming. Oh yes! Yesyesyesyesyes! Ohh—oh, my God—“

Joel covered your mouth with a clammy hand, feeling torn from his mixed feelings of lust and embarrassment.

Going downstairs didn’t help him feel any better either, especially when Sarah began berating you both, not that he blamed her for it.

“Call it payback for all the times I let you and your boyfriend have sex in my bed,” you retorted.

“In your bed?!” Joel mumbled to himself.

“Yeah yeah, could have at least waited until I was gone,” Sarah muttered.

“Sorry, Sar,” you hummed, “your dad is just really hot.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Come on, man.”

“I didn’t even know you were home,” Joel complained. “You’ve been with Jared or whatever his name is all week.”

Sarah’s squinted her eyes, annoyed by the lack of care from her father. “Alex. His name is Alex dad—see, I hate this!”

“Oh, by the way, Sarah,” you said, pattering behind the kitchen counter, “wouldn’t use the open jar of honey if I were you.”

“UGH! EW! Fucking ew!”

♡

“Other than the obvious,” Sarah mumbled, “how’s my dad taking care of you?”

You wore a bright smile and looked away from your reflection momentarily. Joel was… Joel. Rough around the edges but he was a genuine person, confident in the external reality but a little insecure. Not unbearably insecure though, just enough to make you know he was trying his best.

He wasn’t the most romantic but you figured it was just from him being out of the game for so long and you knew you could train him to be more romantic if it was needed.

He didn’t push you aside or make attempts to subtly suggest you needed to leave after sex either; he’d pout real big and give you those gorgeous puppy dog eyes until you held him. He loved making you laugh.

But it definitely still felt like just sex rather than a relationship. You weren’t particularly complaining, but you weren’t bragging about it either.

“Good,” you answered.

Sarah could tell from your tone how honest it was. Good meant great, happy, damn near perfect.

“Good. I’m glad,” she said. “I was worried he’d be like one of those incels that get real creepy and pervy after thirty-five.”

“No, no, he’s great,” you reiterated. “He’s very funny. Smart. He asks me to tan in my bikini while he’s working on the hive or the yard.”

You watched from the corner of your makeup coated eye how tightly she grimaced.

“Images. In head. Don’t want them there,” she dramatized.

“I have to hear every last detail about you and Al up to where he’s shoving your cervix into your stomach. You can deal with a little sexiness from us,” you said.

“It’s just so weird,” she whined.

“Do you want me to stop seeing him?” You asked.

You had slowly began to worry about how this would affect your best friend over time, you knew it was a weird situation. You had no issue cutting Joel off if it meant Sarah got to be happy. There were other men in the world, there weren’t other Sarah’s.

“No, God! No. It’s just not as simple as I was expecting. You know?” She explained kindly.

“Totally! I’d be weirded out if you were hooking up with my dad while I was across the hall. I’m not blaming you there, or anywhere for that matter. Just know you come first.”

“Well, yeah, who else is going to wax your back hair and not judge you for it?” She teased.

You rolled your eyes at her.

“Lots of men with weird fetishes.”

♡

“Can’t believe I agreed to this,” Joel huffed.

He adjusted the waistband of his jeans making his shoulder briefly flare. You let your mind wander while Joel complained about the double date you had arranged with Sarah and Alex. You were currently waiting in the parking lot for them to arrive.

“It’ll be fun. You’ll get to meet Alex and see he is a respectable man and you and I get to pretend we’re a couple for a few hours.”

“Pretend?” Joel questioned. “W-what do you mean pretend? Are we not together?”

“Uh, no?” You said.

Joel didn’t appreciate your amused reaction and questioned you a little more.

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend— you haven’t even taken me on a date,” you explained. “Did you really think that conversation wasn’t necessary?”

“So if we’re not together then what is this?”

You sucked your teeth before simply saying, “Sex.”

Once the four of you were inside Sarah and her boyfriend felt the tension between the two of you.

You watched Joel punch in all of your names into the keypad before pressing ‘start game’.

“So Alex, what do you do for work?” Joel asked.

“Oh, well right now I’m working at a café downtown, but I’m majoring in political science to become a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” Joel sounded impressed.

“Lawyers are great at communicating,” you antagonized. “They know what questions are… Important to ask.”

Joel rolled his eyes and motioned between you and the bowling balls. “Just go. Good God.”

“Dad, what did you do?” Sarah asked.

“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” He defended.

“Girl, what did he do?” She asked you.

Shrugging, you said, “I don’t know. Since Joel thinks he’s so great at communicating, maybe he should answer. I’m gonna go bowl.”

“Hope you gutter!” Joel shouted after you walked away. “She told me I needed to ask her to be my girlfriend.”

“You thought she was your girlfriend?!” Sarah said with wide eyes.

“Well… Yeah? Do I really need to verbally ask her that?”

“That’s why I got a strike, bitch,” you said while slapping the back of Joel’s head.

Sarah and Alex awkwardly stood up so that he could pretend to teach Sarah how to bowl properly. But the bickering between you and Joel didn’t end there.

“I thought it was obvious,” Joel told you. “I have you over all the time. We fuck. We laugh. Did I really need to ask?”

“So what would have happened if I pissed you off and you were to say ‘it’s not like you’re my girlfriend’?”

“I do not sound like that!” Joel scoffed. “And I would never do that to you, you know that. I just kinda figured you were mine, you know?”

You squinted at his unearned possession over you, feigning offense and scoffing obnoxiously.

“Yours? I’m not your property, Joel. You don’t get to claim me.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you goin’ to do about it? Fuck some other loser?”

You grinned, and immediately he regretted his words.

“That’s exactly what I’ll do,” you whispered.

Alex and Sarah sat back down and you asked if they wanted anything to eat or drink before walking away to go to the bar.

“Hi, what can I get for ya?” The boy at the counter asked.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen, why?”

“You see the older man on lane twelve?”

He looked and then nodded.

“Well, I wanna make jealous so if you could just smile and pretend to flirt with me I’ll give you ten bucks,” you explained with a sly smirk.

“Fifteen,” he negotiated.

“Ugh, fine. Can I get two lemonades, a beer, and a water please?”

“That’s not coming out of my tip, is it?” He questioned whilst punching the order into his screen.

“It will if you don’t start looking at my boobs,” you said through your faux smile.

You leaned onto the counter and gave the employee a clear view of your cleavage, which he seemed to appreciate very much.

But Joel wasn’t only focused on the teenage boy behind the counter, he noticed the numerous men gawking at your short shorts that showed off too much of your ass with you bent over the counter the way you were.

“Dad,” Sarah’s voice brought him back to reality. “Your turn.”

By the time Joel managed to spare you had returned with everyone’s drinks and Joel didn’t give you the satisfying reaction of jealousy like you’d hoped.

Wondering if you went too far, you drank a bit of Joel’s beer to imprint a lip gloss stain for Joel to taste in between sips. Something you noticed he loved to do over the past few weeks whenever he made you coffee or tea. You never finished your drinks and Joel always lined his mouth up with your lip print to taste you every chance he got.

And as you gave him the cheap plastic cup that held his beer, you watched as he habitually sipped right where your lips had been. Occasionally licking the rim of the cup before taking his next swig.

A couple of games later, you and Sarah managed to team up against the boys and kick their asses each and every frame. They sulked while you two gloated from the ending of the final game all the way back to the cars.

“Okay, okay. We get it, girls rule, boys lose,” Alex said.

“It’s boys drool,” Sarah corrected before turning to hug her father who placed a kiss on her forehead. “Night, dad. I’m gonna stay at Alex’s.”

“Okay, babygirl. Call me tomorrow.”

“Oh, and word of advice,” Sarah whispered after you got into Joel’s car. “Girls like what boys consider pointless communication. Take her out a few times, make her feel special, and ask her to be your girlfriend. She really likes you, she’s just making you earn it.”

Joel softly smiled and nodded. “Mmkay. Thanks.”

Once he got in the car he didn’t acknowledge you in the least bit, finally free to punish you for letting those men get a free show.

“Not a word?” You nudged his arm as he drove. “You could ask me now.”

He snickered, the most noise he’s made in the last ten minutes.

“You don’t get to just fucking claim me, Joel!”

Joel sped up before pulling into a rest area.

“Come’ere,” he hoarsely demanded.

He unclipped his seatbelt and began undoing his belt and jeans.

“Don’t get all fuckin’ shy on me now, girl. Come on.”

You hesitated but unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed into his lap; he moved his seat all the way back and pushed his jeans low enough for his cock to spring up and slap his belly.

Instinctively you reached for it, but he removed your hand from his hardening length and held your wrists tightly behind your back with one hand. Using his other hand to grab your face by your cheeks he forced you to look into his cold eyes.

“Do you not want to be with me?” His voice strained as he asked that, a hint of hurt glaring in his dark eyes.

“Of course I want to be with you,” you answered.

“I don’t play games,” he said, gripping your wrists even tighter. “Don’t fucking—“ A soft smack landed upon your cheek. “Don’t fucking do what you did tonight ever again. Get on your knees.”

He slightly shoved you back as he loosened his grip on your hands and face; you submissively sank to the rough carpeted floor of the car and he wasted no time pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoving his fat dick into your wet mouth.

He tasted so fucking good, the mix of his clean flesh and salty precum like honey dripping onto your tongue. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned along his shaft as you eagerly bobbed your already hazy head up and down.

Joel’s hips rolled up in pleasure, gurgling out helpless moans as your nose rubbed the wiry hairs along the base of his shaft. Despite the aching and soreness, you loved having your throat full of Joel.

You took initiative and pushed against his hand, nonverbally telling him to make you suffer, and he shamelessly did so.

He couldn’t tell if the slick that was coating his balls was your spit or tears and he didn’t give a fuck. If you were going to show some loser teenager your tits and some loser bachelors your ass the least you could give him was some fucking remorse, right?

Joel felt powerful, in charge in ways he never experienced before. Your flooded eyes looked into his and saw how contorted his face was, so even if he was the one telling you what to do you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Give me that fuckin’ throat, baby,” he moaned. “Oh, fuck! That throat is so fucking tight—mnh. God…damn baby. Feels so fucking good.”

He smacked your wet cheeks as encouragement before slowly pulling you off of his dick; you coughed at the gust of oxygen that flooded your lungs, giggling as he smacked his fat tip against your puffy mouth.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered. “So pretty when my cock shuts that smart fuckin’ mouth a’yours up.”

“You love my fucking mouth,” you smugly said as you climbed into his lap.

“I do, but I think you forget what it’s supposed to be used for,” he whispered.

“You can stuff my mouth all you want, I’m still gonna give you a reason to use it.”

An eyebrow of his cocked up and a grin spread across his face at your confidence.

“Take your pants off,” he instructed seductively. His rough hands ran up your arms and back while you did what he said. “There you go,” he moaned when you slid down on his wet cock. “You’re such a good fucking slut for me, honey.”

“Just—just ask me, and I’ll s-say yes!” You shakily moaned as you relentlessly bounced on his dick.

Joel gripped your neck and began fucking into you from below, pushing deeper than he needed to, definitely bruising your cervix.

“You know you belong to me. All that fucking shit about claiming you and how I don’t own you, fuck was that?”

“Joe—elll, ugh!” You screamed into his chest, not sure if you were cumming or if your cunt was just overwhelmed with sensitivity. “Just ask, just ask baby I promise I’ll be good I’ll never misbehave again.”

He popped your ass and chuckled cruelly when you flinched and moaned. “Be my girlfriend, babydoll. Hmm? I want you to be my girl. You’re already my slut. Will you be my girl, babydoll?”

Your eyes gawked up at him and you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged against your lips.

“Yes! Yes, yes, baby! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

“Say it,” he begged. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours Joel! Fuckfuckyes I’m yours! I belong to you! I fucking belong to you!”

Joel felt the familiar deep stretch in the peak of his belly at your cries. He listened to you submit to him, let him claim you as his, ultimately marking his territory as he began to cum inside of your warm cunt.

“Thaaaat’s my good girl,” Joel growled as he fucked the last of his spend into you.

“Fuck,” you exhaled, climbing off of him. “You’re such an ass.”

He chuckled at this, the softness in his laughter coaxing a giggle from you.

“You love me,” he mumbled.

“Mmm, not quite,” you said as confidently as your tired body would allow.

“Oh, honeypie… You’ll get there soon enough.”

[cwritesforfun]

Logan Huntzberger x Fem!Reader: Love Languages (Request)

Y/N = Your First Name & L/N = Your Last Name ** I do not own any Gilmore Girls characters or plot or lines** one line from show is used below using bold and italics

I wrote little stories for each of the 5 love languages, but also tried to incorporate all 5 into each one lol ... so yeah enjoy! Let me know any other characters I should do this with.

Masterlist

Gifts - You're engaged!!!

You wake up to the smell of cinnamon and warmth. It's the smell of the holidays. You don't feel Logan's arms wrapped around you and you frown. He promised he would be here when you woke up. You get up, throw on your matching holiday pajamas, and leave your room. You see Logan standing in the kitchen with your mom helping her with breakfast. He's so cute. You love how close he is to your mom. You enter the kitchen and exclaim, "Good morning, my favorite people." Your dog nudges your leg and you say, "Oh right favorite dog too. Hello baby." You pet your dog and scratch her head. Your mom says, "Hi sweetheart. Sorry I stole your fiancé, but he has been a huge help with breakfast." You hug your mom, and then you hug Logan, who kisses your forehead. After breakfast, your brother and his family show up. You all sit around and exchange gifts. Logan gives you a matching necklace, earrings, and bracelet set to your engagement ring. Your mom fawns over them and commends Logan for his amazing taste in jewelry. He gives her a necklace that matches yours and he gives your brother cufflinks.

Logan gave you a Birkin bag after you were together for 6 months claiming that he knew you were the one. You were. You give everyone presents too. You love to give gifts and see people light up when you give them something they didn't know they wanted but are happy to have. You also just love seeing your family happy. You love your family and Logan who is pretty much family. You only have 6 months until the wedding. Logan whispers in your ear, "I have more gifts for you, but they're in the bedroom. I didn't want to show your family how much I got you." You reply, "I don't need any more other gifts, baby. I'm already feeling quite spoiled. Plus, we have to save for our wedding." He smiles and says, "Our wedding. I like the sound of that. It really never gets old to hear the words - our wedding." Later, you and Logan are sitting in the bedroom. He gives you a folder with pictures of houses and you ask, "What is this?" He rambles, "I just thought... I just thought we should have a place to build our family once we get married and it would be nice coming home from our honeymoon to a house that we own. We don't have to start a family right away either, but I just want to have the space for when we do." You reply, "You're so cute, Logan. I do think having a home that's ours would be nice rather than staying at that penthouse. I wouldn't mind going on house tours with you." He replies, "Ok that's great. I want a pool." You laugh and say, "Ok, I eventually want a dog." He smiles and replies, "Great, so we need a pool and a big enough yard for a dog. That sounds good. I know you love to bake and cook, so we can make sure to get a big kitchen too. We'll also need a nice living room for our families to all hang out together although I doubt my dad will even show up." You kiss him on the forehead and reply, "Oh baby, I love you. And your dad is stupid not to want to be in your life." He smiles and he says, "Yeah I'll be a better dad than him. I promise." You reply, "I know you will, my love. I know."

Words of Affirmation - 6 months into dating!!!

You wake up on your period and are angry at the world. You don't even want to go on a date with your boyfriend right now. Logan is going to be so jolly and you don't want to hear it. You do have to go to class, so you throw on something presentable and head out to class. You see a text from Logan: Morning my beautiful angel! See you tonight at 7pm for our date. The rest of the day ticks you off with everyone tapping their pencils, people talking when the teacher is talking, and just slow walkers.

You see another text from Logan: Leaving my house now! On my way to you baby! You look beautiful in everything so wear anything!

You lay down on your bed in your apartment after your day and grab your chocolate bar. You hear a knock on your door, groan, and walk to answer it. It's Logan standing there with your favorite flower and a smile.

Logan exclaims, "As much as you look gorgeous like this babe, uh are you going to change for dinner?" You answer, "I can be ready in 10 minutes. I'm sorry. I started my period and today has sucked. Please come in." Logan slides past you, presses a kiss to your cheek, and follows you to your bedroom. You look at your closet, try on a few outfits, give up, then you lay on your floor. Logan sits on the floor next to you and asks, "So, what's wrong? Don't say that nothing is wrong. You just tried on several different outfits that you looked amazing in and you're wearing pajamas right now." You answer, "Because I look so ugly right now and I just look so gross in everything I tried on. I really need to work out more." He says, "Babe, look at me." You look at him and he says, "I think you are the most beautiful person ever. You can wear anything and you're gorgeous. Wear a trash bag if you want. I bet you can pull it off. You're the most amazing person who I love. It's not really how I wanted to tell you, but I do. I do love you. I love your smile and how happy you make me. I love how safe I am around you and how understood you make me feel. I love you, baby." You reply, "I love you too." He smiles and you say, "You have a beautiful smile, you should smile more." He leans down close to your lips and says, "You should smile more too. May I kiss you?" You answer, "Yes." And he does ;)

Logan ended up picking out your outfit and hyped you up as you got ready for the date. You just went to a dinner then he got you ice cream so you could watch some TV back at your place after together.

Quality Time - 3 months into dating!!!

Logan constantly pushed you out of your comfort zone. Joining the Life & Death Brigade was step one of getting you out of your comfort zone. Staying in the same tent as him was step two.

You & Logan run through the field to where the rest of the Life & Death Brigade is standing holding champagne. Colin hands you both some. You cheer and drink it.

You see people start to climb this big metal structure and Logan says, "Come on, let's go up. It'll be fun, it'll be a thrill. Something stupid, something bad for you. Just something different." You reply, "You should go with someone else. I'm not the biggest fan of heights." He replies, "Then it's more of a reason to go up! You can face your fear. I won't let you fall or get hurt. I promise." You see Rory about to pounce on Logan so you say, "Fine, I'll do it." You shoot daggers with your eyes at Rory then climb the ladder. You try not to shake too much. You make it to the top and are immediately hooked up to some kind of machine. Then some guy is telling you logistics and you realize you are really doing this.

You & Logan hold an umbrella then everyone screams, "In Omnia Paratus!" before all jumping.

When you make it to the bottom, your heart nearly jumps out of your chest and you immediately get out of the harness before running into the field away from everyone. You hear Logan asking, "Y/N! Where are you going? What are you doing?" You say, "Step back," before throwing up in the field. Logan says, "Sh** okay come on, let's go to the medical tent." Logan picks you up bridal style and takes you to the medical tent. Some girl in a nurse outfit starts talking to Logan as the guy nurse asks, "Ok, how do you feel?" You answer, "Horrible. But I know I threw up from anxiety and the heights. So if I just avoid tall things, I should be fine." The nurse replies, "Yeah you should be. I'll give you some pain meds for your stomach and a sports drink to rehydrate you." The nurse hands you stuff, you thank him, and you leave the tent. You didn't even bother to tell Logan that you were leaving. He seemed cozy with that nurse. You knew he was a player and yet here you are in some random field with him. And you have to share the bed tonight! God this sucks.

You find a random chair that you sit in to drink your drink and relax for a minute. Finn runs over and asks, "Hey love, where's your boyfriend?" You answer, "Flirting with some nurse in the medical tent." He smirks and says, "Logan likes you, trust me. He's just being dumb right now. I'll go get him." You reply, "No really, leave him. He seemed happier there." Finn says, "I like you for Logan. I'm going to stop it." He then runs off and you laugh. Logan will do whatever he wants, but glad Finn thinks he can change him.

Finn returns a few minutes later with Logan in tow. Finn says, "I'm going to shoot a bow. Logan, apologize." Finn then leaves. Logan sits next to you and says, "Sorry about Finn." You reply, "It's okay. Finn is funny. I like him." Logan asks, "More than me?" You answer, "Right now, yeah." Logan winces and says, "Right yeah, I deserve that. Sorry, but Amanda was just talking about the weekend and then about our parents... I should have just pushed her away and been by your side. I'm sorry. Are you okay now?" You reply, "It's fine. The other nurse helped me. I told you that I hated heights... well I puked from anxiety and from facing that fear of heights. My body couldn't take all of it." He replies, "You should've told me that it was going to make you feel that bad. I wouldn't have demanded you go with me." You reply, "Yeah well Rory, your stupid ex was behind you about to ask you to go with her. She looked ready to pounce when she thought you would be alone. I don't even know why I came this weekend. Everywhere we go, some girl is throwing herself at you." He replies, "You're the only girl I want throwing herself at me. Are you feeling any better?" You answer, "You just asked me that, but I am." He replies, "Perfect, then come with me." He holds out his hand, which you begrudgingly take.

You go to shoot the bow and arrow with Finn. Logan seems a little jealous when you laugh with Finn and for the rest of the day, Logan makes sure some part of him is touching you at all times. His hand is in yours, his arm is around your waist, his lips are touching you... something is touching you.

When you crawl into the bed in the tent that night, Logan wraps his arm around you and exclaims, "I really do like you a lot." You reply, "Ok Logan. No more flirting with other women then." He replies, "No flirting with Finn then." You gasp and playfully hit him in the arm before replying, "I like you a lot too." He laughs and kisses you.

Acts of Service - 8 months into dating & YOU LIVE TOGETHER

You slump on the couch and sigh. It has been a long day. Logan walks in and says, "Babe, you look exhausted. Why didn't you text me when you were leaving. I would've picked you up." You reply, "Oh oops." He asks, "Let's eat. What's for dinner?" You sigh and answer, "Something I have to cook. I'll get up." He quickly says, "No, I can make something. I promise. You go shower and I'll make something to eat." You reply, "Ok... I've never seen you cook before, but I'm tired and fine with it." You leave the room and shower.

After your shower, you walk into the kitchen feeling better and see Logan frantically running around the kitchen. You notice two smoothies and he appears to be making pancakes. You sit on the counter next to him and say, "It's looking good, babe." He replies, "Thanks, do you feel better after your shower?" You answer, "Yeah I do. Thanks for making dinner." He replies, "I doubt it will be as good as what you would've made, but it's food." You reply, "Yes it is and it can't be too bad." He laughs and keeps cooking.

You eat what he prepared and it's not bad.

As you watch TV, Logan says, "Pass me your feet. I'll give you a foot massage." You reply, "Kinky." He sighs and replies, "Babe, I'm just trying to do something nice for you."

Physical Touch - 8 months into dating & YOU LIVE TOGETHER!!!

You invited some of your friends to your apartment with Logan to have a small party. Unfortunately, Logan saw how many people you invited and invited more.

You finish putting on your little black dress and you walk out to where Logan is standing. You twirl and ask, "How do I look?" Logan's jaw is still dropped and he says, "F**k you are so beautiful and perfect, angel. I think we should cancel the party and stay in tonight. I really love this dress." You reply, "Don't be silly. You've been talking about how excited you are this whole week." Logan wraps his arms around you and says, "It's so thin and you look beautiful. People won't be able to take their eyes off of you. Let me make sure they know you're mine." Before you ask him what he means, he's biting and sucking on your neck. Every time you get a hickey, it reminds you of a vampire. Edward Cullen, where are you??? Better not say that to Logan or he will be jealous you're thinking of another man right now.

People start arriving and so does the booze.

You make your way to the bar and Finn runs up. He says, "Lady Y/N, we must take shots." You laugh and pour 4 shots. You give him two and you say, "To drinking!" He laughs and you both shoot them back. You feel your boyfriend's arms around your waist and you feel his lips touch your neck. You say, "Logan, we were just taking shots, chill." Finn says, "Yeah man, I don't want your girl. She's hot, but she's yours. I also have my eye on a nice young thing that just walked in. You'll have to excuse me." Finn walks off and Logan says, "I don't want anyone thinking that you're up for grabs. Stay by my side tonight, please." You agree and follow him the whole night. His arms are usually on your waist the whole time and if they're not, he's pulling you into another kiss. You swear this boy is going to give you at least 100 kisses by the time the night is over.

You tell him you have to use the bathroom and he lets you go.

As you walk back to Logan, a guy steps in front of you and almost spills his drink on you. He then says, "Whoa sorry there... oh hello sweet thing. What must your name be?" You sass, "Y/N and I have a boyfriend." He asks, "Where is he?" You answer, "It's Logan Huntzberger." The guy jumps and says, "Oh sh**!" You feel arms wrap around your waist and you hear Logan say, "Hey babe, is this guy giving you any trouble?" You answer, "He almost spilled a drink on me and tried to hit on me." Logan looks at the guy and says, "Don't even think about touching or talking to my girl. In fact, I think you should leave the party." Logan calls Finn and Colin over and then asks them to escort the guy out of the party. OMG!!!

Logan keeps his arm tight on your waist the rest of the night until everyone leaves.

When Logan pulls you into the bedroom at the end of the night, he exclaims, "Finally we're alone. That little black dress is coming right off."

@cinderellasmissingshoes - enjoy & sorry it took me forever!

Masterlist

[vasyandii]

When stepdad brought you home with your sister, I was only 15 at the time, you both were a month old.

You threw up in his car because you were so nervous. Since you were the puppy I chose, it automatically made you my parents' least favorite.

I don't like my family. I never really did. I never felt a strong connection to my parents or siblings. Hell, for a while I thought that people made mother's day cards to get a good grade, not because you actually care about your parents.

But I care about you both. It was like all the bad stuff was washed away.

---

It never occurred to me that you two weren't my flesh and blood. Whenever I think about it, I can only imagine that you both were lifted from my heart and born from it. My right and left eye.

The only reason why I wanted to go to college is so I can bring a better life for you both. Where you have a big yard to play in, so many foods to fill your bellies and playthings that I didn't have to use your old collars as tug toys anymore.

I remember when it was both of your first Christmas. I wanted to make it special so I poured a little saucer of milk for you and your sister to try. I didn't know back then dogs weren't supposed to have even the tiniest amount of milk, so you both threw up a little bit because of it. I felt so bad that I ruined your first holiday with me.

When that march came around, you both turned one. I didn't have anything special like a treat to give you for your birthdays so I scrambled some eggs on the stove for both of you to eat. Luckily you didn't throw up that time.

I don't ever want children because I already have you two. What else can I ask for?

---

You aren't a very good dog.

When you were little we tried to give you a bath, you cried so loud the neighborhood dogs started barking like mad.

When you got moved to sleep in the garage, you chewed through a piece of the wall. Stepdad was so mad at me. I was so scared each time he threatened to get rid of you two.

You don't like other people or dogs that much either. So you would bark at them to scare them off. I felt so bad and worried.

You would jump and try to nip my heels to boss me around. I still have that scar from when you bit my hand. I was angry for a second, then I remembered it was you.

I didn't have money to give you and your sister treats. I wasn't very good at training you both so you wouldn't listen to me. I wasn't able to bring you on walks. I didn't know how to bathe you properly until recently.

When he laid a hand on you and your sister, I should've shouted, block the broom with my entire body, anything to protect you both.

I wasn't a very good parent. But you still smiled at me.

---

I never wanted to go on that trip and leave you two alone in that person's house for so long. I think that's why you ran away. I know that you didn't feel bitter. You were looking for me. And you probably still are.

I'm trying my best to look for you too. I won't give up on you because you won't give up on me. It's hard seeing your sister, because she reminds me that you're not here right now.

---

I miss you so much. I would trade everything to hug you again and kiss your forehead. I would trade my hands, my feet, my arms and legs so you can see your sister again. I wish that I could hear you bark at 5 in the morning again. I wish that you would purposefully knock over your water bowl so I have to fill it up again. I wish you would scratch the glass door to the back yard because you saw me inside. I wish you would come and steal your sisters food again. I wish you would wipe your mouth on my clean clothes again. I wish you would tear holes into my shirts again. I wish to see you covered in mud because you were having fun in the rain. I wish that you can eat the spare leftovers I saved for you to eat. I wish you would try to not get into your kennel until I threw a treat you wanted in there.

I want to go back to the day when we brought you both home, so I could make sure I was a good dad to you. I don't know where you are, but please be alive so I can make it up to you.

[lemon-shortbread]

#omg you deserve the upmost of spoiling for being a certified grade a cutie patootie 🫵🏽#and ladjfhhss not distance is the only thing stopping it#i guess the wait makes it better uwu build up all the things i can do to give you the best experience possible#♥️♥️♥️♥️

excuse me August are you flirting with me???? i mean please, do continue i want to know more about how you'd get me pregnant and how you'd take care of me and out kiddos

And if I AM? Who wouldnt! The most adorable pup ever is in my inbox letting me be sweet to him, how could I not take the opportunity!

Of course getting us somewhere comfy to stay. Number one our kids are growing up somewhere nice, I won’t budge on that! Sorry I might keep you waiting til I get us somewhere with a nice yard, maybe some land too, lots of space for a big family! In the meantime, plenty of nice meals for you and positive affirmations on how easy its gonna be once we start trying for a baby, gotta keep my puppy healthy while we get ready ♥️ I’d make sure to keep solid track of your most fertile days, get you on some good pre-natals, too!

Every time we try to get you pregnant, ill be treating you like it. Sorry if I tease you about how I can already tell that you’re carrying, youre just too cute! Once we get those first few positive tests back, we’ll have to celebrate! I’d love to take you out on as many cute dates as I can early in your first trimester, going to museums and parks and nice restaurants, smiling about our little secret only the two of us know about.

Once you start to show, im sorry about how much of a dork im gonna be, hun. My hands aren’t leaving your tummy, and im gonna be right behind you with my arms wrapped around you as often as possible. “How are my favorite people?” you’re gonna be hearing a lot. Every time we go out somewhere, I can’t help but be a little protective over you, every glance I get of your belly just starting to round out is gonna keep my mind in papa mode. Everyone we know is immediately getting an earfull about how excited I am about you being pregnant. How I can’t wait to meet our little nugget, and how beautifully you’re carrying and how amazing you are for doing this- youre gonna have to shut me up. You know what- hand me the ideas for the nursery. I’ll go keep myself busy with building things while you relax. Love you!

As you grow, unfortunately i’m gonna be shadowing you a lot, all my friends get guard dog privileges, so it’s double time for the person carrying our baby ✨ You want me to lift up your belly to help your back? Done. Schedule ultrasounds and OB visits? Done. Whatever you’re craving? Got it. Clothes fitting different? Don’t worry, baby, i’ll mend it for you. Do you want me to take those pants out for you? I’m literally in awe of you, soon as we go to bed, i’m wrapping my arms around you and putting my ear to your belly, telling the little ones about whatever happened that day, maybe read to them a little.

Your waddle is so fucking cute, omg my little penguinnnn ♥️✨ I’m sure youre sick of that one by the time you’re in the home stretch. I’ll make up for it with lots of kisses, tea, and massages wherever you need. I got you this big, so it’s only right I keep you content while you have to be. What kind of dad would I be if you were miserable?

Even after the kiddos come, I think youre the most amazing thing, I mean, you brought them here! And if- when- we decide to do it again, I’ll always think you’re the most amazing when you’re growing lives for our family. Maybe we can beat our last records of multiples- what are you thinking, hun, maybe six? seven little ones? No rush of course! And as many as you want! Or few, I just love seeing you pregnant. Maybe i’m just possessive, or we’re both really enjoying this- either way! When do you wanna start trying?

[angelbaby-fics]

Chosen Family

Pairing: CG!Ransom x Little!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Mean family members and a canon referencing curse word!

A/N: Ahh the Ransom feels continue.... I saw Glass Onion recently and I absolutely loved it, but it sure made me miss Chris 😅 so of course I've been revisiting Knives Out now 💕 This is kind of based on a true story with my own family, only I wish I had protective Ransom to come rescue me 🥺😣 so even if that didn't happen in real life, I can just write it instead 💕💕 enjoy!!

The tires of Ransom’s car threw gravel across the driveway as he peeled in, coming to a stop directly in front of the house. He didn’t want to be here a second longer than absolutely necessary, and this was the easiest way for a quick getaway. You’d fallen asleep in the backseat on the drive over, the rain on the windows and the winding forest roads lulling you to dreamland. Ransom grabbed your backpack out of the passenger seat and got out of the car. He circled around to your door and opened it, noticing you wince as you felt a blast of cold outdoor air enter the heated car. He undid your seatbelt and lifted you out of the car and into his arms, while you buried your head in his sweater clad shoulder, desperately clinging onto your nap.

“I know, I know, doll. We just have to make an appearance and then we can go home and cuddle by the fire, you like that?” Ransom said softly in your ear, petting your head against his chest. “You wanna walk by yourself, baby?”

“Mmm…” You mumbled, which Ransom knew meant no. You’d been more little this week, more often. The dreary weather and stress of the holiday season, the fact that the sun was gone by 4pm, all this had you falling deeper and deeper into headspace as winter settled over Massachusetts. Not that Ransom minded at all, but you’d never been so little at one of his family’s big gatherings, and he was anxious to see how this day would play out. 

“Aww, come on, baby, I know you can do it.” He said, attempting to lower you to the ground, but your legs latched around his torso. Just then, Harlan’s dogs came bolting from across the yard. Ransom backed up against the car, trying to shoo the dogs away, not wanting to get dirty paw prints and slobber on his clothes. They growled at him, sensing his rigid energy, before you unclenched your fist from Ransom’s sweater and reached a little hand down to give the nearest pup a pat on the head.“Hello good doggy.” You said quietly with a smile, wriggling out of Ransom’s grasp to better play with the dogs. 

“So you won’t walk for daddy, but you will for a doggy, huh?” Ransom laughed, patting your head as your affection subdued the dogs. They happily trotted alongside you as you approached the big house, and Ransom grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze before you walked in. “Well, nice of you to finally join us.” A scathing voice floated through the foyer. 

You shifted behind Ransom, slightly shielding yourself from the judgment of his family. You knew they didn’t like him, and by extension, that meant they didn’t like you. Usually you were big enough to hold your own against them, or to stay home alone when you weren’t feeling up to it, but you’d been inseparable from Ransom lately, and when you were still regressed the day of the Thrombey’s annual holiday dinner, he brainstormed all the ways to get you through the event with as little incident as possible. That’s when Ransom shrugged your backpack off his shoulder and handed it to you.“Here you go, angel,” he whispered, “go run upstairs and play with your toys until it's time to go, alright?”

You nodded, taking the bag and running up the staircase to an empty room where you knew you wouldn’t be disturbed, leaving Ransom to face the brunt of his family on his own. As much as he hated having to spend an afternoon with them, he’d do it a million afternoons if it meant you could be spared. 

You dumped the contents of your backpack onto the rug, scanning your eyes over them before reaching for your iPad. You didn’t get much screentime when you were little, Ransom preferring to have you spend quality time with him, so you were delighted to see he’d packed your tablet for you, allowing for a rare opportunity to rot your brain on mobile apps all afternoon. Your favorite game was still on the loading screen when you heard a voice carry out in the hallway. 

“So bizarre… like his little pet.” You heard someone say.

“Honestly, if I were Ransom I’d be so annoyed.” Another one chimed in.

And you felt it. The words hit your core like a bomb, wiping out any bit of confidence and joy you had in your headspace. You knew they probably talked about you and your relationship with Ransom, your big self knew that kind of gossip was inevitable, but you’d never heard it for yourself, especially in such a sensitive state. The words cut through you like icicles, freezing your blood and your body in place.

Annoying. 

Bizarre. 

Little pet.

Was this true? Were you annoying to Ransom, following him around everywhere, relentlessly clinging to his side? Was that why he’d sent you up here all by yourself, to get rid of you for at least an afternoon of relief? The faces of the colorful characters on your favorite app blurred through your tears as these thoughts swirled around your head. You wished you’d never heard them at all. 

Someone else had heard them too.

Ransom had been stomping his way up the steps, already wanting to leave the gathering after just a few agonizing minutes with his mother, when he heard his cousin’s voice from a nearby room, and then his name. He heard the nasty things they said about you and prayed to anyone listening that you weren’t within earshot. As soon as he found you, still sitting frozen on the carpet with tears streaming down your face, he knew that prayer hadn’t been heard. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ransom muttered, coming towards you with open arms, but you pushed him away. “No, it's okay, I just want to go home.” You whispered, shoving all your belongings back into your backpack.

“Absolutely, honey, I was just about to say the same thing.” Ransom replied, taking the backpack from you and slinging it over his shoulder. “I could’ve carried that.” You spat, hurrying past him out the door and down the hallway towards the stairs. Ransom sped up to match your stride, wanting more than anything else in the world to get both you and him out of that house as soon as possible. You pushed open the front door, Ransom yelling an emotionless “goodbye” to the rest of the family before slamming it behind him. He reached towards the back seat door to open it for you, but you were already getting settled in the front, pulling your seatbelt across your chest. Ransom got in the driver’s seat, zooming out of the driveway just as hastily as he’d arrived. The two of you remained silent throughout the journey home. You stared out the window with a head full of overwhelming thoughts until finally they got too much and spilled out.

“Am I annoying?” You whispered as the Beemer pulled into yours and Ransom’s driveway.

“Not in a million years, angel.” Ransom answered, confidently and quickly, with all his heart.

“But I heard Joni say… I’m like a pet. And Meg said you’re annoyed by it. Your family hates me.”

“Baby ignore them. They’re idiots and they can all eat shit.” He said with a grin that he hoped you’d return, but once again he was out of luck.

“But… but they’re your family!” You sniffled, finally turning to look at him. . “Not anymore, not after tonight. I don’t associate with people who can’t respect my little angel. You’re the only family I need, babydoll.”

The tiniest hint of a smile ghosted your face when you heard your favorite pet name. Ransom hooked a finger under your chin, lifting your face slightly so he could see it better, and gave you a soft, sweet kiss on your lips. “You are too, daddy.”

“There’s my baby. Now to make up for today, I think someone deserves lots and lots of cuddles!”

[strayfoxxchan]

Girl's Best Friend

Pairing: Non-Idol!Seungmin x f!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Content Warning: None that I can think of… pulled heartstrings?

Word Count: 1k

Prompt: You came here to adopt a dog and got a boyfriend instead!

Tag List: Message me to be added!

MASTERLIST

A sigh leaves your lips. “It’s time.”

Being an adult could be lonely. You have contemplated adopting a furry companion for months, but as you sit on the couch with a drama, crying in the dark, you decide it is time. So you pick up the stuffed dog you’d been squeezing for emotional support to look into its shiny plastic eyes.

“You’ll have a new friend tomorrow, don’t worry, buddy.”

In the morning, you scroll through your phone, browsing a list of shelters in the area. Most of them have pages full of animals available to be adopted. You catch sight of a few animals and set your eyes on a shelter nearby. 

As you drive to the shelter, listening to music way too loudly, you wonder if you’re making the right choice. You aren’t home during the day sometimes as your job is still working hybrid, and you wonder if it’s okay to leave a dog alone for extended periods, but you decide this is best for you and your mental health. 

The facade of the shelter is little more than a giant concrete building, painted in shades of blue and white, with silhouettes of little animals running across the edges of the walls. The walls are lined with vines and greenery, making it seem inviting. Walking into the building is more of the same. At the front desk, a kind woman greets you. 

“Hello! What are you looking for today?”

“Oh,” you say, “just thinking of adopting a dog. Where can I find them?” 

The woman points behind her to a big glass door. “The kennels are out the door in the courtyard. Feel free to flag down anyone in a blue apron if you see a pup you like!” She smiles warmly at you.

“Thanks!” You can feel the excitement growing as you try not to skip to the door.

The courtyard is big and green, trees scattered about randomly. There are kennels lining the edges of the yard, big open kennels that allow the dogs some room to move around. Men, women, and children walk about from kennel to kennel, patting dogs on their noses and talking in baby voices to them. 

The only problem with going to an animal shelter is that you can’t rescue them all. The puppy dog eyes and happy pants, the tail wags, and the tippy tapping of toes fill you both with elation and grief. There was no way you could fit 40 dogs into your one-bedroom apartment, but that doesn’t stop you from considering it. 

Before you know it, you’ve found yourself plopped down in front of a kennel, beginning an interview with a particularly cute mutt, a mix of something that’s given him floppy ears and a mottled coat of brown and white. He almost looks like a golden retriever but splotchy. 

“So, what makes you think you’ll be a good companion?” The dog stares at you blankly, panting away and wagging his tail a million miles a minute.

“I’m very warm, and I’m the best cuddler.” A voice comes from behind you, and you stifle a giggle, choosing not to turn around and continue the very important interview.

“What can you offer that another dog can’t?” You stare at the dog expectantly as he considers his answer.

“I’ll give you morning kisses and sing when I’m hungry.”

“Ah, good answer.” You nod at the dog, who has continued to stare blankly at you. “The final and most important question…” You pause for effect. “Are you a good boy?”

The voice from behind you doesn’t speak, but the pup in front of you replies with an enthusiastic bark. You respond in kind with an enthusiastic fit of laughter.

“Well, that settles it. You’re hired. Any questions for me?” 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” You snicker at the voice behind you.

“I am as single as they come.” You poke the dog’s nose through the kennel, earning you an excited woof.

You pull yourself up from the ground, grunting slightly and turning to meet the dog’s translator. 

The man wears a white polo with a blue apron tied around his waist. His hair is a little long, highlighted with streaks of blonde. He’s handsome, though his big round eyes look at you with the same happy but almost blank expression the dog had.

“He’s very talkative, though.” The man says to you. “And clingy.”

“Maybe I like talkative and clingy, Mr. Translator.” You can see a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. 

“I guess I should give up, then.” The man turns to leave.

“Wait, give what up?” He stops in his tracks and turns back to face you. 

“The interview.”

“I didn’t realize you were also a dog up for adoption,” you do your best to look serious, but your heart flutters. 

“Meong Meong,” he replies, deadpan. You choke a little on your laugh. 

“Okay then, what makes you think you’ll be a good companion?” You raise your brows expectantly. 

“I’ll keep the house clean and sing you lullabies.” As he speaks, he moves past you and kneels on the floor to unlock the kennel. 

“Hmm,” you pause. “I do love a good lullaby, I suppose. What can you offer that another… dog can’t?”

“I’ll cook breakfast and hold your hand when we walk.” The dog walks out of the kennel and sits quietly beside the man, looking up at him with a goofy smile.

“You have him beat there; I can’t argue with that. And what’s your name?”

“Seungmin,” he finally smiles. “And yeah, I’m a good boy.” He tries to say this without laughing but fails spectacularly. The two of you are in fits of giggles, and the dog at your feet taps his front toes, tail wagging as if to join in your laughter. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Seungmin. I’m Y/N. Any questions for me?” You wipe your eyes and sniffle, having shed a tear or two after laughing so hard. 

“Am I hired? Or just Oliver?” He points at the dog.

“I think I have room for two new hires.”

[jungle-angel]

Seeing Spots: Part 1 (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: You and Rhett are surprised beyond words when Royal brings home an early Christmas present for the two of you

Tagging: @desert-fern Fern my friend, I made good on my promise last night and here it is (lol).

You and Rhett were all too happy to be walking around the ranch on such a crisp day. The snow had begun to fall, almost completely blanketing the land in its frosty, wintery glory. You weren't too huge of a fan of having the cattle out in the field all day, but they desperately needed to graze before the hands took them all in for the night while the same went for the horses.

"Gonna be a Vikings' winter darlin," Rhett remarked feeding one of the mares a carrot from the kitchen fridge.

"Ugh," you groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Cows ain't gonna be the issue either it's the damn horses," Rhett added. "Can't get'em in the barn all at once, they spook during snowstorms..."

"You know what we need?" you asked.

"A fuckin drink," Rhett chuckled.

"No," you laughed. "We need a horse dog."

"We've got Diesel though," Rhett said.

"Rottweilers are cattle dogs Rhett."

"And Ruby."

"Rhett," you said giving him the side eye look. "Ruby's practically a lapdog."

"Hey I once saw said lapdog come runnin back with a dead bird in her mouth and drop it at Dad's feet," Rhett pointed out. "Cockers are bird dogs, fight me on it."

You laughed and shook your head. You couldn't remember how many times Cecelia's little squish nosed cocker spaniel had come running back to the house with a bird to drop on the front porch, annoying the hell out of Royal who thought it was the cats.

You heard the crunch and snap of frozen gravel a minute later and saw Royal pulling the truck up the driveway and Ruby barking in the upstairs window. Rhett noticed the sneaky grin on his father's face and the laugh that followed, knowing instantly that Royal was up to something.

"Dad what'd you do?" Rhett questioned.

"Nothin son, nothin," Royal insisted.

"Don't gimme that look Dad," Rhett told him. "Either ya'll did something to piss Ma off or ya'll beat the shit outta Perry again."

"Nah Perry's still in jail, he ain't gettin out Amy's twenty one," Royal chuckled. "I was gonna save it for Christmas but I figured I'd better not."

You and Rhett looked at each other, scrunching your eyebrows with curiosity at what your father-in-law could have possibly gotten you.

Royal opened the back door to the truck and to your astonishment, out jumped two Dalmatians, a male and a female with the most gorgeous black and white coats you had ever seen. Your jaws dropped when they came running right to you, putting their paws up and licking your faces as you and Rhett scritched their ears.

"Dad where the hell did you find these two?" Rhett asked, giving the male his full share of ear scritches.

"Found'em downtown at the shelter," Royal answered. "Billy said he went up to the res to go see Shania's family and they were just wanderin around."

"Lemme guess," Rhett said. "Mrs. Burch made a big stink about'em?"

"Fuckin bitch threatened to have'em put down if she found'em in her yard," Royal spat. "She called and complained to Joy about it, but ya'll know her."

Rhett chuckled a little as the male let out a high pitched whine, giving Rhett his paw. "Well," he said. "They'll have a good home here."

"That's exactly why I got'em," Royal explained. "It's you and (y/n) in dog form."

Rhett laughed again and hugged his father. "Thanks Dad," he said.

"Not a worry son," Royal told him. "They're gonna need names, just so you know."

Rhett instantly began to remember the days when he was a small child, the tough days when Cecelia would have to go to Casper to take care of her mother, leaving Rhett to stay home with Royal. Royal had unfortunately not been the most attentive, having to deal with Perry's behavioral problems both at home and at school, leaving Rhett in the care of Grandpa River and Oma Heidi, his grandparents. Rhett remembered those cold winter days when Oma Heidi would make him a cozy spot in her basement and let him watch movies on the weekends, the woodstove going while he was snuggled amongst all the blankets and pillows she had made and some she had brought with her from Switzerland. Suddenly, the memory of one of his favorite films sprang into his mind and so too did the perfect names for your new companions.

"Remember when I was real little and Oma Heidi would let me watch all those Disney movies in her basement?" Rhett asked him.

"Yeah ya'll watched A Hundred And One Dalmatians until the damn tape broke," Royal laughed.

Rhett smiled and bit his lip.

"The hell's that look for?" Royal asked him.

"I've got the perfect names for'em," Rhett chuckled.

You cast that same look at your husband, knowing that Amy would love them too. And so it was, your newfound friends were named Pongo and Perdita by Rhett, their names springing from the childhood memories he held near and dear to him.

Very quickly the two had proved their worth on the ranch, guiding the horses back into the barn at night amidst the howling wind and snow, calming them too when they would get spooked by the loud winds or the snapping of the timbers in the cold. At night, you and Rhett were all too glad to have them with you, Royal, Cecelia, Amy, Hannah and your twin boys.

Those nights were spent by the fireplace in your living room, the fire crackling away while Rhett, Royal, Rip Wheeler, Kayce and John Dutton and two of your friends from the res, Wes Redwood and his father Russel and their families, gathered in your home to banish the winter blues. One night while you and Cecelia were clearing away the dishes, the boys had all begun to sing around the fire while Pongo and Perdy jumped in with them, their howls throwing everyone into a fit of laughter. Some mornings you would awake to find your two spotted friends either in Amy's room, Hannah's room or in the boys' nursery, safely protecting them while they slept.

And you couldn't have asked for a better pair than that.

[catierambles]

for @kingliam2019 because they smashed a perfectly good mug (rude) and @shinisenko because they politely asked for more

They stared at each other for a long moment before she turned and ran, heading for her room.

"Wait!" He called after her, but she didn't stop, running into her bedroom and closing the door, throwing the knob lock. She didn't hear anything for a long moment before there was scratching at the door along with a low whine and she unlocked it, seeing Sy on the other side.

"Get in get in get in!" She said hurriedly, ushering him into the room and he hopped up on her bed, sitting down. "Buddy, I know you're a sweetheart and everything, but you couldn't have bitten the half naked home invader?" She asked, looking out the door but not seeing him anywhere. "I know he's a big guy, but I like your chances better than his."

"Well, here's the thing..." She whipped around, seeing him sitting on her bed, one of her pillows over his bare lap. "I'mma explain. First off, I'm Kyle Syverson, nice to formally meetcha."

"Syverson." She said and he nodded.

"Yes, ma'am." He said and she paused before giving a sigh.

"Sy." She said and he nodded again.

"Yes, ma'am." He said with an embarrassed smile. "Can you grab the pants? They're right outside the door." Turning, she opened the door again and looked down, seeing the sweatpants on the hall floor. Picking them up, she handed them back to him and he took them. She kept her back to him as she heard him get off the bed and put them back on. "I'm decent."

"Explain." She said, turning back around and he ran a hand over his shorn hair.

"I'm a shapeshifter."

"Fuckin' figured! You shifted from another shape!" She said and he nodded. "You've been here a week and you didn't think to clue me in?! What was your grand plan?!"

"I...didn't really think that far ahead." He admitted, "I got a Karen for a neighbor and she called Animal Control even though I told her that "my dog" was harmless and wouldn't bother her. I was in my own yard and everythin'. Comin' across you was just a stroke of luck. Thanks for coverin' for me, by the way, you didn't have to do that. Don't know what I woulda done if I had been taken to the pound."

"No problem." She said, "Wait...you slept in bed with me."

"Yeah." He said, giving her another embarrassed look.

"I was in my underwear one night!"

"It was a warm night and your bedroom is West facin'." He said with a shrug.

"Did you...turn back while I was asleep?"

"No, I did not." He said, "I can't sleep and stay shifted at the same time, so I just stayed awake all night, sleepin' when you went to work."

"But you fell asleep on my lap a couple of times."

"Very nearly, but not quite." He said, "You're comfortable, and it felt nice when you ran your fingers through my fur."

"Why didn't you just leave after the first night? Why stay?"

"I dunno, really." He said with a shrug, "I was bein' looked after. I knew it couldn't last forever, though." He gave a sigh, "I know this is weird, but I was a good dog, wasn't I?"

"Yeah." She said, "You were a good dog." That got her a smile and she had to admit, it was a nice smile. "Though, it's probably more accurate to say you were a good wolf?"

"Yeah." He said with a shrug, "Technically speakin'. But don't worry, I ain't gonna suggest we just go back to how it was. That'd be weird seein' as you know now."

"A bit, yeah."

"But I don't just want to say "thanks for everythin'" and leave entirely, you know? I like you. You took care of me when you didn't have to." He said, "You coulda just taken me to the nearest shelter and washed your hands of it, but you didn't."

"So?"

"So, maybe, I dunno, we can get to know each other better?" He suggested, "Not askin' for anythin' inappropriate, seeing how we met, but I'd like to spend time together when I'm not covered in fur on all fours." She was quiet for a long moment.

"Yeah, I'd like that too." She said another nice smile pulled at his lips.

[grogusmum]

Let It SQUALL ❄️

This is part if the @pedrostories Secret Santa gift exchange 2022.

For: @something-tofightfor

With love: Hazel

Frankie Morales x GN!Reader

W/C:1400

RATED: T

You go to a tree farm to get your Christmas Tree and get a little help from Frankie.

It's your first Christmas alone, but you are determined to enjoy personal traditions built over a decade. This includes cutting your own tree...

So here you are, pulling into the tree farm's hardpan parking lot, hoping your hatchback isn't too small to bring one home. You remind yourself that it will be fine so long as you get a small tree as you get out of the car and grab your bow saw.

It really is a perfect day for it, snow on the ground from last night and some flurries swirling… you are bundled up in your favorite sweater with a scarf, gloves and good boots as you make your way to the field.

Holiday music floats over the parking lot and in the warming house, the smell of wood smoke and hot chocolate fill you with nostalgia.

A sweet faced dog with large pointy ears lopes by, you smile and your eyes can't help following. It's a dog, okay? The dog stops, tail wagging at a guy, you assume is his owner. He's comfortably handsome with soft brown eyes, a mustache and patchy scruff on his chin and cheeks. Layered a thermal shirt, button down flannel, and quilted barn coat, his head topped with a trucker cap with the tree farm logo on it. You note his coat has a patch with Frankie embroidered on it.

He gives you a crooked smile that displays a singular dimple. You give a small smile back and then continue your trek to the grove of trees, your face heats a little at being caught staring.

The music fades being replaced by the crunch of your foot falls and the aroma of pine and snow overtakes the smells from the farm yard.

You meander through the trees unhurried, passing the noble firs, gorgeous but expensive, best not to fall in love with one. Next the Douglases, then the Frasers… at the Balsams you turn into the rows, surrounding yourself in their scent. You take a moment to steep in it.

“I like the balsams too, humble, beautiful and the amazing smell lasts,” says a soft voice behind you.

“I love them,” you say, you had heard a second set of boots in the snow, turning to see that the friendly voice is coming from Frankie, the tree farm guy. “I just wish they held their needles a bit better.”

“Yeah, there’s always a catch,” he chuckles.

“There really always is isn't there," you smile.

“So, I followed you to see if I could help. Usually we get people out here in pairs or families…” Frankie trails off, not wanted to overstep. His hand comes up to the back of his neck, it is sweetly shy.

“Oh,” you say, have this broad, soft eyed tree farmer help? Pssh “That would be great!”

His smile lights up and you know you are in trouble!

As you and Frankie walk the lines of trees, you tell him you usually get a tall tree, your place, while not very big, has high ceilings, but now you only have a small hatchback to bring it home, so you need to stick with a 5 footer.

“Deciding which ornaments to leave in the boxes, that will be hard” you say with a sigh.

You walk in companionable silence for a few beats.

“Are you far?”

“No actually, I’m above the used bookstore right off Main,” you say absently as you walk around a small tree, scrutinizing it.

"I can," Frankie clears his throat, "I could bring- we offer delivery."

It takes a moment for you.

"Really?" You beam, then your face falls, "mmm, thank you butI really can't afford a bigger tree and delivery- "

"Delivery, under 5 miles, is free," Frankie confirms with more confidence. Though you get the feeling he just did that math. It's your turn to give a lopsided smile, as you thank him and move away from the small tree and head for the more mature ones.

You choose a narrow eight foot tree, Frankie makes quick work of falling it for you and drags it behind him as you make small talk. The temperature dropping as the day progresses and you begin to shiver.

"Cold?"

"Yeah, I didn't think it was supposed to drop like this, also thought I was going to be keeping myself warm with taking the tree down myself." Then you quickly add with a grin, "not I'm complaining. Thank you again."

"Well let's get you a hot drink and warm you up!"

At the warming house, you loosen your scarf and open up you coat. Frankie is aglow, ruddy cheeks from the chill and exertion as he hangs his coat up and adds a log to the woodstove. He smiles at a couple of the crew taking a break from the cold as he picks up two mugs-

"We got coffee, tea, hot chocolate and hot cider"

"Oh, um… I'll take the cider!"

Frankie, dimple showing, brings the two piping hot mugs over. You take the mug with both hands grazing his, murmuring your thanks.

After a sip-

"I love this space, and the woodcut ornaments… so, is this a family business?"

"Sorta, found family I guess." He says, "my buddies and I bought it, sort of defunked at the time…"

You continue to look everywhere but him-

"Nice"

Frankie on the other hand can't take his eyes off of you, "yeah."

Finally, you look over your steaming mug at him, "yeah."

You were kicking yourself internally for being so awkward. Why? Why must you be this way?

Then a bunch of phone notifications chime at once, you look at yours as several others do the same, including Frankie.

"Well, we'd better get you and your tree home, there's warning for squalls." Frankie says as everyone starts moving to finish up.

You nod and take another sip of the cider and set it down on the tray table set out for that purpose.

"I'm, um, a little nervous about my car getting it down the hill its not great in the snow…"

"Well, you're not far, how about I drive you in the pickup and you can get your car tomorrow, it's supposed to be clear tomorrow, no problem," Frankie guides you out a hand gently on your lower back. The tree is already in his truck and he takes just a moment to say something to a shorter man with black curls, who looks at you and then back to Frankie. He smiles and Frankie gives him a good natured shove.

With a whistle, his dog hops in the cab as the two of you clamber in.

"Is it okay if my dog joins?"

"Of course," you enthuse, giving the sweetie a scratch behind those big ears.

As with squalls, the snow is suddenly heavy and there are moments when it is white out conditions. You were so glad to not be in your little hatchback, you really needed to get a better car for the winter.

Frankie takes his time and soon enough you are in front of your bookstore, The Dancing Goat.

"Why dancing goat?" He asks looking up at the sign.

"That is an excellent question," you say with a smirk as you climb out of the truck.

You hear him chuckle, then shiver. With the wind the snow is coming down, and sideways, and up.

After the pair of you bring the tree up the stairs to the apartment above, and put the tree in the stand, you walk him back out to the sidewalk, finding the snow is worse.

"Maybe you should come back up, hopefully the squalls will settle in a little bit."

"Yeah, I can bring Raffi in?" Frankie asks, hand on the car door.

"Of course."

As you wait for the kettle, you start putting up the tree lights, Frankie falling very naturally in step with you, helping wind them around the tree. His dog Raffi finds your couch a perfect place to watch you both work, and gets cozy.

The kettle sings just as you finish the lights, so you plug it in with a voilà and you turn down the other lights and rush to get the tea brewing.

The windows with snow swirling outside them perfectly frame your merrily twinkling evergreen. You can't help but sigh and your eyes get bright with holidays past.

As a distraction, you pull out your phone, check the weather once more and then swipe over to your music app, selecting Skating by Vince Girardi and the quiet nostalgia of the Charlie Brown soundtrack.

"I think it might be a while."

"That's alright by me," Frankie says as he plunks down next to his already sleeping dog, he looks up an eyebrow raising and smile widening as he pats the cushion next to him-

"I'm still waiting to hear about the Dancing Goat."

Part 2

THANK YOU FOR READING 💚 AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS

If you enjoyed this, you can find more Frankie and my writng in general on my masterlist and if you would like to be tagged in future work, please go to my taglist form.

[lisbeth-kk]

Thanks for the tag @notjustamumj

May 8 prompt: always

Old wisdom

Sherlock loved visiting his grandmother in Sussex. Her garden was a paradise full of flowers and insects. She kept bees, and Sherlock was entranced by them from an early age.

When his cousins or classmates called him weird and freakish, he tried to remember his grandmother’s words when he’d confided in her.

«Bee, you are unique, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Your ability to focus and concentrate on topics you’re fascinated by, is a treasured gift. The way you care for all living things in the garden, the neighbour’s dog, your brother and me, tells a tale of a big heart. You care a lot, perhaps too much at times, but that’s the essence of who you are. Never change that because others can’t stand it or are offended by it. Be your true self. Always.»

It wasn’t easy to live by those words, and he failed many times. Especially after his grandmother’s death and Mycroft leaving home for boarding school. For numerous years he lived by other words.

«Sentiment is never an advantage, brother mine,» Mycroft had told him when Sherlock was devastated by the bullying or the beforementioned dog’s death.

Those words made him strong but also reckless. The drugs were a relief when he was too overwhelmed, and he could always count on Mycroft to pick up the pieces.

He got himself clean after the surprising meeting with a certain police officer, who promised him to call when a case was unsolvable for the Yard’s finest. To Sherlock’s surprise, Greg Lestrade was a man of his words, and finally Sherlock’s life had purpose again.

When John Watson limped into his life, Sherlock felt relief. Before giving John his adress, Sherlock remembered his grandmother’s wise words, and told John the worst about himself. John didn’t even rise an eyebrow, and Sherlock instantly knew that this remarkable man would be his rescuer in so many ways.

Sherlock’s instincts didn’t fail him. On their wedding day, Sherlock’s vows to John were five words.

«I will love you. Always.»

@totallysilvergirl @calaisreno @meetinginsamarra @raina-at @topsyturvy-turtely

[cyberphuck]

The other day the neighbors called the city on me again for having an overgrown lawn. I explained to City Guy that I was disabled and broke, and he gave me two weeks to "work on it" (I asked him, too, if there were programs to help me take care of the stuff they wanted me to take care of, and he said no). I traded a bag of dog food to a guy to mow my lawn, and he just... did not come back lol so today I went out with some very rusty loppers to try to cut back some of the bigger stuff.

We have a few milk thistles-- I tackled like three or four biggish ones-- but the majority of the overgrowth in the front yard is one massive creeper vine. There weren't any of what I as a Californian would call weeds besides the thistles-- not even dandelions. At least the creeper vine is green, doesn't have spines, doesn't harbor any kind of bugs, and is soft and moist enough not to be a fire hazard. (I'm not entirely sure what the creeper vine is. It's not virginia creeper, poison ivy, kudzu, wintercreeper, mile-a-minute, or honeysuckle. It's green, will grow up, through, and over anything and likes when you run it over repeatedly with your car, soft and cool with no stickers or hooks, and explodes with bitty white flowers in the mid to late fall. I like it.) I was out there sweating and shaking, taking frequent breaks because of my knees and back, doing my best to cut down the biggest growths. A car pulled up to the neighbor's house and the man himself got out. I straightened up, lowering the loppers, and stared fixedly at him (sweaty, sunburned, covered in leaves) as he walked into his house. He didn't even turn his head to make eye contact with me. A little while later, an older lady came out with a lawnmower and mowed their already-pristine lawn. I watched her. She also didn't look at me. Neither of them said anything like, "hey, noticed you doing yard work and crying, need a hand since the mower's already out?" To be clear, they have never spoken to me, even once, since they've moved in. Sometimes their mail gets delivered to my house by accident, and I'll walk it over and put it in their letterbox. A couple of times there were big manila envelopes that looked time-sensitive so I knocked, trying to make sure they got it and not wanting to bend it to fit it into the letterbox. TV was on but no one came to the door. I'm the one who ran across the street to help grandma out of the tub, remember, the one who buys lemonade and candy from the local kids, the one with a separate bowl for toys on Halloween, the one who chases down the neighbor's dog in the middle of the night and puts him back in the yard so nothing happens to him, the one who brings my dogs in when they start barking so they're not bothering people. I'm the one who brings a slice of birthday cake to share with the cranky old man across the street, who stopped to help a bleeding woman at walmart, who saw someone riding their bike on the side of the freeway (?!) and pulled over to put his bike in the back of my car and give him a ride home. I don't do that kind of stuff with an expectation of some kind of payment. And god knows I don't even like some of my neighbors-- I don't really like anybody, if it comes down to it. But we've all got to live on the same street, and I think it's important to be on at least nodding terms with your immediate neighbors in case something happens, you know? You don't have to bring over lemon squares every Sunday, but it'd be nice to have someone let you know if your house is on fire, or know that if there's an accident and you need help, you can bang on someone's door. Just come and talk to me about it once, okay? Once. Find out what's going on. Maybe there's a super simple fix. Maybe there's something we can trade. Maybe we find out you can't help at all. Maybe I'll tell you to shove it up your ass, but at least you tried before you got the fucking city involved.

Unfortunately for you, I'm not a 'turn the other cheek' sort of person. The cuttings from the insane, fast-growing, impossible to kill vine can go under your porch.