#as though my house doesn’t have an alarm and I have a Rottweiler who loves barking at people
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
boneless-mika · 1 year ago
Text
I’m having this really weird stomachache. It’s been going on for a couple of days but tonight it got a lot worse. It’s still not bad enough to go to a doctor or worry about it but I’ve never felt this specific kind of pain so I’m a little concerned. It might just be my body deciding it needed to spice up my pain lol (I had awful, literally couldn’t move, back pain like a week ago so perhaps after that I just started feeling pain differently)
1 note · View note
elleberquist6 · 7 years ago
Text
Believe in Me - chapter one
Summary: Dan Howell is living at home while he’s saving money for college, which isn’t easy since his parents don’t understand him. Unlike them, he loves dogs, is a vegetarian, has no interest in the family business, and he despises the supernatural. He struggles to accept things that are illogical, even though he is a kitsune. Kitsune are foxes whose powers involve the ability to cast illusions, but Dan just wants to be normal. Phil Lester has just moved to London, where he works as a dog walker. When his path crosses with Dan, Phil is eager to get to know him. Unfortunately, Phil soon finds that being friends with Dan is far more complicated than he could have imagined.
Rating: Mature Word Count: 2618 Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut
Kitsune fact: Kitsune tend to live in families, and work together as much as possible. Lone kitsune tend to try and make families. Even myobu prefer to drive away nogitsune, instead of killing them. [https://littlespacefox.weebly.com/kitsune-mythology.html]
2011 – London
Phil Lester woke up that morning, convinced that today was going to be the best day of his life. He didn’t have a job when he moved to London recently, and he had taken a small apartment while he searched for employment. The apartment didn’t allow pets, so when he saw a job opening with a dog walking agency, it seemed like a perfect fit – if he couldn’t have his own dog, he could spend the day with other people’s dogs.
Admittedly, he was a bit intimidated by the mental image he had of a dog walker being towed by the leashes of 6 or more dogs (he fell down often enough when he wasn’t being dragged by dogs), but his interview went well with the agency and they told him that he would be started on a trial basis with only one client – a Rottweiler.
The next day, he was happy to find that his client’s home was walking distance from his apartment. A smiling woman in her 40s answered the door. “You must be Phil! I’m Hannah. Come in and I’ll introduce you to Rotty.”
Phil grinned. “Your Rottweiler’s name is Rotty? I like it.”
“Yes, it’s short for Rotten. He’s a bit of a problem child, which is why I’m here to make sure that you two get along. He needs a firm hand. Someone who can show him who is in charge so he behaves himself.”
Phil was beginning to feel a bit out of his depth. He was prepared to give the dog some exercise, but he knew nothing about obedience training. Then Phil relaxed a bit when he met the dog, who was sitting on a bed, chewing on a rawhide toy. The dog looked up at Phil, slobber dripping from his lips, and Phil felt his heart melt. He knelt before the bed and he let the dog sniff his hand, ignoring the drool. Finally, the dog gave his hand a lick.
The owner, who was watching the exchange, cooed in delight. “He likes you! So, are you ready to take him out for a while? He loves Regent’s Park.” Phil nodded, and Hannah handed him a leash to clip onto the dog’s collar. “I’m going to be around the house today if anything goes wrong. You have my number, so feel free to call me.”
Phil’s eyes widened. “Are you expecting something to go wrong?”
“No, it’s just that Rotty has a bad track record with walkers, so I like to be prepared.” She saw the alarm on Phil’s face. “He doesn’t bite! He’s a sweetheart. But he has a habit of pulling and sometimes he gets away from people. I’ve almost lost him before because some people walking him were too scared to let me know that he had gotten away from them. So, please call me if that happens and I will come help you find him.”
Phil nodded, appreciating her straightforwardness. “I hope it won’t come to that.” He looked at the dog and gave him an affectionate pat. “You won’t try to get away from me, will you?”
As they strolled around Regent’s Park, Phil gripped the leash tighter whenever the dog seemed to pay particular interest to anything around them: a squirrel scurrying up the trunk of a tree, another dog chasing a frisbee, and in particular a pond that was surrounded by ducks. The dog was remarkably well behaved though, and he never attempted to escape Phil’s grip on the leash. It made Phil give the dog a stroke to reward him, murmuring, “You’re just misunderstood, aren’t you? You’re a good boy.”
Phil started to relax and enjoy the beautiful day. It was a rare sunny day in London, and he could hardly believe that this was his life now – he was getting paid to walk through a beautiful park with a sweet dog. It was almost perfect.
The only problem was that Phil wasn’t used to walking this much, and he hadn’t realized that he was so out of shape. His legs were killing him, and he stopped when he couldn’t take it anymore, which made the dog turn to look at him. The Rottweiler’s orange eyebrow-shaped markings gave him a surprised expression which made Phil laugh. “Rotty, what do you say about taking a quick break?”
The dog didn’t object, so they walked to a bench under a tree. There was a boy sitting on one end of the bench, so Phil sat on the other end. Phil glanced at the boy and saw that he had fallen asleep in a slumped position with a book in his lap. Phil glanced at the book curiously – Game of Thrones. The boy had good taste in books.
The dog huffed a sigh and looked wistfully around the park.
“Just give me a moment, Rotty,” Phil assured the dog. He reached down to massage the cramped muscles in his calves through his black skinny jeans. While he did this, he found himself glancing at the sleeping boy again. He was around Phil’s age, maybe a couple years younger. Something about his face kept drawing Phil’s attention. Well, not something. It was obvious that the boy was lovely. The long dark lashes of his closed eyes were splayed across his cheeks. His lightly tanned skin was speckled with the occasional freckle. His brown curly hair was shifted by a passing breeze.
Phil returned his attention to Rotty, preparing to tell him that it was time to go, but the dog wasn’t in front of him anymore. Then he saw that the dog was sniffing industriously at the paperback copy of Game of Thrones in the boy’s lap. “Rotty, no!” He hissed in a whisper, tugging lightly on the leash. “You’ll wake him up. Leave it, it’s not yours.”
The dog was ignoring him. He had stopped sniffing the book and was now sniffing at the boy under the book; he was sniffing with such intensity that Phil suspected the boy might have dog biscuits in his pockets. The dog continued to investigate the boy, completely ignoring Phil as his pleading rose in pitch from a terse whisper to shrill commands. It was no surprise when the boy woke up with Rotty now sniffing the front of his black t-shirt. The boy blinked a few times in surprise, looking between the dog and Phil. Then they were both looking at Rotty as the dog went completely still, except for his sides which were vibrating with a growl.
Phil tried to put some authority in his voice as he tightened his grip on the leash. “Rotty, what are you doing?” The dog was baring his teeth. Phil pulled the leash forcefully, but the dog didn’t move an inch – he was strong. Phil looked at the boy. “I… I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Have you got food or something in your pockets? Maybe he wants you to give it to him?”
The boy shook his head slightly. He was stiff with terror.
“Okay,” Phil’s brain was whirring. This could go very badly in the next moment if he wasn’t careful. He knew that this breed of dog had a very nasty bite. Phil stood up and planted both feet firmly on the ground behind the dog. He gripped the leash as tight as he could with both hands. “Alright, I’ve got him. Can you slide off the bench and get away from him? I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s got him like this.”
“I do,” the boy said, but he didn’t stop to explain. He scrambled off the bench and out of reach of the dog’s bite, but instead of running he turned to look back at Phil. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something. Then his eyes went wide as Rotty lunged for him. Phil saw nothing but pavement as the powerful dog pulled him over.
Phil lay still for a moment, stunned by the sensation of having the breath knocked painfully out of his chest by the fall. As he started breathing again, he heard the sound of a dog barking. Phil looked up to see the boy scrambling into the tree behind the bench while Rotty ran circles around the trunk. Slobber was trailing from his jowls as he barked menacingly. Phil got to his feet. “Rotty! Hey, Rotten. Stop. Heel! You have been a very bad dog. You hear me? Bad dog!”
Rotty stopped running to look at him with sad eyes. His ears pressed against his head and he gave a soft whimper. Then he sprinted away. Before Phil could call the dog or even see where he was running, there was a shout as the boy fell out of the tree, landing face-first in the grass where the dog had been standing a moment before. Phil heard the boy grunt in pain, so he sprinted to his side.
“Hey, are you okay?” He knelt beside him and rested a hand on the boy’s back.
He shifted under Phil’s hand and then got to his knees. His left arm was hanging limply at his side and he hissed in pain as he held it against his body with his right hand. The boy shook his head in answer to Phil’s question. “No, I’m not okay. Something is wrong with my arm.”
“It’s okay. There’s a hospital not far from here. I’ll take you there.” He tried to infuse his words with calmness, though he was freaking out.
The boy looked around, and Phil couldn’t help noticing how pretty his eyes were – brown, but not a boring shade. They reminded him of hot chocolate, the real kind of hot chocolate that you have to warm up on the stove. The eyes shifted to Phil’s face. “Where is your dog?”
“He’s not mine. I don’t know where he is. He ran off right before you fell.”
Phil thought the boy had asked because he was worried that the dog was going to attack him again, but the boy’s eyes widened in alarm. “You have to find him. You can’t leave him here. He’ll find the road, wander into it, and get hit by a car.”
“Okay, I’ll find him, and then we’ll go to the A&E. Don’t try to go anywhere. I’ll be back in a minute.” He gave the boy’s uninjured arm what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. Then Phil stood up and looked around. He was grateful to spot Rotty in the distance, and he started running towards the dog. Rotty was happily sniffing at a German Shepherd – the dogs were spinning in circles while both trying to sniff each other at the same time – and the German Shepherd’s owner was watching with a bemused expression on her face. Before Rotty even knew Phil was there, he had picked up the leash that was trailing on the ground behind him. He waved in farewell to the owner of the other dog and started leading Rotty back to the injured boy.
“Don’t run off like that again, please.” The dog looked up at him, and he could tell from his eyes that the dog hadn’t forgotten how Phil shouted at him. Phil sighed as he fished his phone out of his pocket. “I’m sorry I shouted at you. Just behave, okay? Let’s see if your mum can pick you up.”
“Hello?” Hannah answered the call. “Phil?”
“Yes, it’s me. Something happened.” He quickly explained the situation to her.
“Oh my God, he’s going to sue me.” Hannah gasped.
“I hope it won’t come to that. Could you come get Rotty so I can take him to the hospital? Sorry about all this.” He was trying to balance his phone between his shoulder and his cheek while he tied Rotty’s leash to the bench where this all had started.
“Yes, I’m about a 10-minute walk from the park. I’m coming. Where exactly are you?” He could hear things clattering on Hannah’s end of the call, and it sounded like she was hastily tossing objects into her purse.
He looked around and described his location in relation to a bridge and the nearby duck pond, and then he hung up with Hannah’s assurance that she would be there soon. Rotty was stretched out on the pavement, ready to take a nap after his exploits, and then Phil looked at the boy. His back was resting against the tree now and his eyes were closed. Phil would believe that he had fallen asleep again if he weren’t holding his body so stiffly, like he was afraid that any movement would cause him pain.
Phil walked over and sat in the grass beside him. The boy’s eyes opened. He glanced at the dog and then at Phil. “He’s tied up,” Phil said. “His owner is coming to get him. She’ll be here soon. Thanks for telling me to find him before we left.”
The boy nodded. “Of course. I’d never forgive myself if he got hurt because you’d left him here alone.” He smiled, and he had a dimple in his cheek that made Phil’s stomach flip for some reason. “I like dogs, even though they don’t like me much.”
“I noticed.” Phil gave a slight breathy laugh, though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was laughing at. Was the boy saying that he was attacked by dogs on a regular basis? The only part of what he’d said that Phil was able to grasp was the fact that he said he liked dogs. Phil found that he was pathetically keeping a mental tally of the boy’s positive characteristics: likes dogs, check, reads Game of Thrones, check, is really nice despite the fact that he is probably in pain right now, check. Suddenly, the fact that he was gorgeous was the least interesting fact about him.
Phil gave his head a slight shake to clear it. “Seriously, how is your arm? Can you wait a few moments to get help, or do we need to go now?”
The boy glanced at his limp arm. “I think it’s dislocated. It’s not that bad until I try to move. I can wait.” He showed Phil the smashed iPhone in the palm of his right hand. “When you went to get the dog, I was going to call my parents, but it won’t even turn on. Completely broken… I must have landed on it when I fell.”
“Oh!” Phil tried to hand him his phone. “You can use mine.”
The boy tucked his broken phone into his pocket, but he didn’t take Phil’s phone. “Thanks, but I can’t remember their numbers off the top of my head. I had them all programmed into my phone.”
Phil nodded in understanding, since he couldn’t recall his own parents’ phone numbers. He opened Google on his phone, preparing to search for something. “What about work numbers? Are they at an office right now? I could look up the phone number of the business and you could call them that way.”
The boy stiffened and looked away. Phil could tell that he’d made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t imagine why. Maybe his arm was just hurting. “No… I don’t think there’s any way to reach them. Do you mind taking me? I’m sure I’ll be fine once you drop me off.”
“I’m not just dropping you off. I’m staying until I’m sure you’re okay.”
3 notes · View notes