#canine passengers

[thepastisalreadywritten]

Source: TIME

'Dog-first' airline Bark Air takes off for maiden flight across the US

25 May 2024

BARK Air took off for its maiden dogs-fly-first flight from New York to Los Angeles.

The new airline transports dogs and their people in luxury, including a sunlit waiting lounge filled with treats and toys, speedy check-ins, and an on-board spa for pups.

The aircraft can accommodate up to 14 people, but BARK Air doesn't sell more than ten tickets to make room for ten dogs.

[antiqueanimals]

"Save the Eno."

Before North Carolina was settled by white men, three tribes lived in the Eno River area. They were the Sioux, the Algonquin, and the Tuscarora. The tribe that gave the river its name, the Eno Indian, were a mixture of Algonquin and Sioux stock.

The 1979 Eno River calendar is now for sale. This year the calendar features the Indian lore of the Eno River, and includes photographs, anecdotes, and pen and ink drawings by Jenny Nygard.

The calendar is $3.50 per copy and is available from (name/address redacted). The calendar is published annually by the Eno River Association, a citizens group that is dedicated to the preservation of the Eno River.

Excerpt from Wildlife in North Carolina. February 1979. Illustration by Pete Turner.

Internet Archive

[metastatiic]

ik he treats that car like its his baby

[farmdog]

two coyotes (pueblo, co)

[i-must-feel]

I don’t want Chappell roan to sell out but I do think it would be an excellent marketing decision to make a Subaru ad with casual in the background

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[yayll]

~ a little something about Dazai and his tantrums ~

"... Hmph. I hope you crash this car and we both die."

The moody brunet mutters under his breath as he looks out of the car window, his arms crossed over his chest, refusing to look at you. He was awfully cute whenever he did this, and oh so vexing at the same time. You learned to acclimate to this very early into your relationship with him.

"What? All I said was that I was going to be driving us, Osamu!"

Your laugh is light hearted as you focus on the road ahead, dismissing his whiny behavior for another one of his... Melodramatic performances, his co-workers once called it. He finally turns to glare at you, but a wicked glint in his narrowed eyes betrays him... You can tell he's more unserious than anything. Playful, even. And besides, he would never actually be upset with you, he just can't stop thinking up schemes to make you roll your eyes at him. Your smile alone makes his thoughts impure, shame on you!

"Yeah, well... I feel dehumanized! overlooked! neglected..." He feigns offense, sighing heavily as he slouches into the passenger seat. He places a bandaged arm over his face, groaning softly but still side eyeing you to check if you're looking at him or not.

"You do that all on your own, silly."

"Excuse me? I'm expressing my grievances and you're calling me silly? Oh, so that's what this is really about. You don't love me anymore! What a cruel beauty you are..."

He gasps, now burying his face into the crook of his elbow, pretending to weep as he mumbles incoherent nonsense about how much you mistreat him. In actuality, he was giddy as hell. You park the car, and turn to face him, a coy smile flashes on your lips.

"Nobody said anything about not loving you. Now, what can I do to fix this, Mm?"

He lifts his head up, suddenly composed and shrugging his shoulders as if nothing ever happened, speaking in a matter of fact voice that somehow deepened.

"Well, definitely don't let me drive. I don't even have a license. I'd kill us in an instant."

"... Then why argue about it?!"

"Because you look so beautiful when you're yelling at me. And you make me feel alive. Anddd, because I'm bored~"

He flashes you a cheeky grin, it's dreamy and sickening. His eyes twinkle with mischief as he leans over the seat and flicks away a stray hair from your face. Dazai then taps the tip of your nose, slowly dragging his finger down to your plush bottom lip, gently flipping it over to expose your teeth. The pad of his finger gently swirls against your canines, and finally, retreats... He knows there's a time and place for his worship prodding. His eyes travel back up to yours, and you can swear they look darker than usual. If only the Port Mafia could see what became of the Demon Prodigy... A new man reborn! A man who loves!

The rest of the day is spent with you indulging Dazai, something along the lines of 'reparations' is what he calls it. Only he knows how much it means to him that you can handle him during his calculated outbursts... or rather harmless tests to prove you won't leave him at the first sign of trouble. He needs you to be in it for the longhaul, just like he is. It's deceptive, but no one has to know! He just loves you and these are simply counter measures. You'd probably call him selfish, but as long as you call him at all, he doesn't give a shit. Because in the grand scheme of things, he really can't drive, and you two are inevitably endgame.

You're the ball, and he's your chain.

[moonstruckme]

Hey bestie!! I broke my neck yesterday so I was wondering if you could do something with EMT!marauders where reader falls or something and so they have to put a cervical collar on her and just a lot of comfort? I completely understand if not and I hope you have a wonderful day!!!

Hi lovely, hope you're doing okay!! That sounds so scary, wishing you the best and thank you for requesting <3

cw: injury, restrained movement (reader has some anxiety around feeling trapped)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

You wake with hands on your face. 

“Easy—no, don’t move, please. My name’s James, I’m with NHS.” You take a breath, and the head attached to the hands nods encouragingly. He keeps you pressed firmly to the headrest of your seat. “That’s good, just breathe. I’m gonna pass you off to my partner behind you, okay? This is Remus.” 

Another set of gloved hands plants itself on either side of your face, fingers splayed along your jaw. You swallow, and James gives you a smile. You can’t fathom how it reaches his eyes, deep brown and magnified by a set of glasses with thick lenses. You’ve only just woken up and you already feel like you could cry.

“He’s just going to keep your head still for us. Don’t try to move, yeah?” 

You think to nod, but Remus’ grip is tight, and the mere activation of the muscles sends shooting pains down your neck. You gasp. 

“Yeah, don’t do that,” James says. He takes your hands in his. “Can you squeeze my fingers, sweetheart?” You do. “Good. Wiggle your fingers?” You do, but it feels weird. “Good.” James gives your hands a squeeze of his own. His gentleness makes something hot and panicky press at the back of your throat. 

“Alright, this is my partner Sirius.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see another man climbing in the passenger door. He grins at you, flashing canines. “He’s gonna help me put you in a brace to hold your head still.”

“Okay,” you say. Your voice comes out quiet and squeaky, but still James smiles as he opens up the plastic collar. 

“Hey, there she is. Can you tell us what’s hurting you, sweetheart?” 

“My neck.” You try to take a breath. It shakes going out. “And my hands feel tingly.” 

“Alright, that’s alright,” Remus says from behind you. His voice is low and soothing, a bit of rasp to it. “Anything else?” 

“No.” 

He adjusts his grip to let the other two put the collar around your neck, but then his touch is back. It’s starting to feel less constraining than grounding. 

“That’s not bad, all things considered. We’ll have to get you some scans to know for sure, though.” 

“Hold on, is that optimism from you, Remus?” Sirius grins, securing the velcro on one side of your neck. “He must really like you, doll.” 

“Sirius,” Remus says warningly. 

“Just making an observation. Jamesie, can you bring us the backboard?” 

“Yup.” James gives your knee a little pat and disappears from your vision. Oddly, you’re a bit nervous to be without him. 

“I’m gonna get your pulse here,” Sirius says, taking your wrist in hand. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” 

“He means don’t move,” Remus clarifies. “You’re really doing quite well.” 

The pressure of Sirius’ gloved fingers on the inside of your wrist feels more intimate and vulnerable than it has any right to. You’re suddenly aware that you’re trembling. 

“Thanks,” you manage. “It’s not a hard job.” 

Remus chuckles behind your ear, and Sirius lets out a sharp laugh, looking up at you in surprise. 

“We don’t usually get comedians on these sort of runs,” he tells you, eyes studying your face with something between bemusement and admiration. “Remus is understating things, gorgeous. As far as horrific car accidents go, you’re killing this.” He sets your wrist back in your lap. “You’re definitely in shock, though. Are you afraid of needles?” 

“Um, not very. Why?” 

“No reason.” 

Sirius looks past you, and then James is back on your other side. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Miss me?” 

What’s humiliating is you almost had. You keep your mouth shut, smiling tersely. 

He blazes right past the joke, fiddling with things out of your view until there’s something hard poking into your thigh. “Okay, on Remus’ count Sirius and I are going to lift you so I can slide this backboard under you. Your only job is to keep being good and still for us, yeah?” 

You don’t get to respond before Sirius and James are wrapping their hands around your thighs. And then you’re not sure you can respond. Your breath freezes with the rest of you, caught in your throat, you can feel fingers digging into the soft undersides of your thighs even through your jeans. Remus counts down from three, and their grips tighten as they lift. You hiss as the muscles in your neck and back tighten instinctively, but James quickly slides the plastic board underneath you and they set you down again. 

“That’s it, well done,” Sirius murmurs as James settles his hands carefully on either side of your face. Remus lets go. 

“You doing okay?” James asks you, ducking his head a bit to see your eyes. You hope you don’t look quite so petrified as you feel. 

“Yeah,” you say. 

James’ expression doesn’t change, but his thumb makes a couple of quick, soothing strokes at your temple. “Alright, sweetheart,” he replies. “After this is the easy part, we’re just gonna get you lying down.” Remus gets out of your backseat, squeezing in your passenger door with James to grab hold of your shoulders. James looks to him and Sirius before counting down, “Three, two, one,” and they’re turning you. 

Your neck blazes with a pain that’s so sudden and acute you nearly choke on it, a strangled whimpering sound escaping you as they lower you backwards. Your back meets hard plastic. Soft shushing sounds are falling from Remus’ lips, his grip on your shoulders easing now that you’re in a more secure position. 

“We’ve got you,” he murmurs gently, the way one might to a stray kitten. “You’re alright, love, you did so well.” 

If you talk now you’ll cry. You’re sure of it. So you settle for giving him a watery smile you know isn’t believable, and he returns it nonetheless. 

You hear the ripping of velcro, and then Sirius is standing over you, passing the other end of a strap to Remus. James is still grasping your head. They start placing the straps over your chest, careful, businesslike hands lifting your arms and pulling the material taut against your sides. Your hands are lying awkwardly at your sides, and Sirius pauses to take them, placing them atop your stomach with one folded over the other. Soon your upper half is strapped down. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears.

“What are they doing?” you ask James quietly. 

“They’re just restricting your spinal movement,” he explains. “We have to make sure you don’t hurt yourself by moving, and once they’re done I can let go of your head.” 

“Oh.” You take a breath. “Okay.” 

You know they’re really helping you, just doing their jobs, but even still every tug of the straps feels like it’s restricting your airflow. You feel tight and tense. Trapped. You try to fill your lungs, but it’s useless. 

“Hey.” James’ voice is tender, and you don’t want to look at him but you don’t have much choice when he leans over you like that. You feel like a child, breathing through your mouth to try and keep tears from spilling. “Hey, it’s okay. What’s going on? Does something hurt?” 

You want to shake your head but you can’t, and that makes you cry harder. “No,” you squeak out. 

“Just scared?” You press your lips together, inhaling deeply to try and suppress the next sob that’s trying to break free from you. Down by your legs, you can feel Sirius and Remus moving faster to finish up. “I could certainly understand why. This is a lot, you know? But really, you’re being so great about it. We’re almost done here.” 

You close your eyes embarrassedly, you feel a strap tighten snugly around your ankles, and then James is letting your head go, wiping your tears with careful fingers. Another hand lands on your shin, rubbing soothingly. 

“We’ve gotta keep moving,” James says quietly, “to get you to the hospital, but if you need anything from us you can ask, alright?” 

You hum brokenly. 

“Alright, sweetheart.” He brushes a finger under your eye. You open it, and he gives you a reassuring little smile before looking to Remus and Sirius. “Ready?” 

“Yup.” Sirius’ voice is teeming with faux pep as they snap up the handles of the cot, starting to wheel you towards the ambulance. 

They lift you and all the equipment like it’s nothing, and then the sky is gone and you’re looking up at a plain gray ceiling. You’re working to steady your breathing now, counting both ways. You start to feel better. 

“There we are.” Remus sits down on a bench beside your head, stroking a knuckle over the teartracks his partner didn’t get. Sirius climbs in behind him and starts to mess with something on your other side while James swings the doors shut. “Just keep breathing like that, love. You can relax, alright? We’ve got you.” 

[darkdemeter]

☾ phases collection issue #6 THE NEIGHBOUR IS A WEREWOLF!

⚤ Wanda Maximoff x GN/Male/Female Neighbour!Werewolf!Reader mature 18+ — depictions and general fic about two pining neighbours, cute fluffy stuff, some sexual innuendos and undertones, a little bit of sexual themes towards the end — I think that's it? ✎ 2.5k She is the sweetest little thing you could have live right over the fence. Like a... well, dog, you'd been intrigued by her from day one and you've noticed... she has too. Little does she know, her "cute dog in the next yard" is quite literally that. A werewolf.

✎ ———

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

What would Wanda Maximoff do without you as her neighbour?

“Come on!” Wanda scoffs aloud, huffing with a drastic drop of her shoulders. “Not now… not now, please?” 

Her hands ring and strangle tightly around the circlet of her steering wheel. Face scrunched in her annoyance and ire, aware that she’s cutting it close to being late for work. 

“There a problem, Wands?” She jumps in her seat with a short gasp, blinking away the blur of mad tears. Fuck, not now. Of all people, please not you. 

Your hands rest to curl over the wound-down sill of her window, body hunched down from your taller height and only making the muscles beneath your white shirt bulge. The way they cut off in the rolled coils at your elbows, the slight give of the top’s hem hanging loose at your collarbone, causing a spread of heat to mask her cheeks. 

“Y-yeah, uh…” she looks away and down at the radio for a moment. Mindlessly and to distract herself, she plays with the buttons. “My car just suddenly shit itself and I’m going to be late for work.”

Tongue poked into your cheek, you give the hood a once over look with a sharpened appraisal. Fuck, how she could stare into your eyes for hours without growing tired. Their the most beautiful shade, sometimes catching in the light and she swears she catches this honey, amber shine in them for a second. 

“I can take you to work if you’d like,” you offer calmly with a shrug, “can fix her up for you while you're out at work.”

“O-oh, I—” Is she burning up? Wanda clears her throat, tempted to fan her face of its flush. “I’d appreciate it, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”

You shrug again, cheeks pulling back into a toothy grin. She swears that with a small squint of her eyes she can make out the very faint way that your canines are a little sharper than anyone she’s ever met. Animalistically so. 

You’ve already pulled her door open and she quickly gathers her bag and gets out. Following alongside you, you lead her into your front yard and towards the open mouth of your garage. You pop open the passenger door of your car and she gets in, easing herself against the column seat of leather and doesn’t wait long until you get into the driver’s seat. It’s a very nice car, nothing too modern. A tan, light roof 1967 Chevrolet Impala with fine workings of white strips and restored wooden interiors. She can tell just how much love went into every detail.

“Alright, ready, sweetheart?” you tease with that sly grin and she nods, unable to trust in her words. 

From day one you have been a top neighbour. Welcoming and friendly, when she began to move her boxes into her new house, you were there at the truck’s side asking if she needed a helping hand. Of course, she took note of the scrap of metal sitting in your driveway that screamed for help more than her, but something about that charm you have made her accept instead. 

Eager, you began to haul in several boxes at a time, saving her at least an hour’s more work. 

She could never forget such kindness. It was scary to move somewhere completely new, heavy with doubt that she’d make any close friends so soon. Yet there you were, like a dog in the yard wagging your tail and hopeful, puppy eyes as you introduced yourself. 

From then on, you were always around in a way. Every morning when she’d make herself a cup of coffee and some breakfast, she’d see you out in your yard going about whatever it was you were doing that day. Touching up some of the broken pitches in the fence, weeding the hedges or— how she’d go bright red in seeing you in the farther corner of the backyard chopping logs of wood. 

She would quickly duck out of sight behind the floral pattern of her curtains just as you walked past, huffing, sweaty and carrying a load of wood that would take two men combined to haul. 

It was always a marvel and mystery of the things you could do, the small and sort of oddities she found. But it mattered little the moment she came home from work to find you half beneath the body of a car you were working on in your driveway, stereo turned up on full blast playing older music dated to the sixties at least. The way your stained jeans hug the muscle of your legs, knees spread to reveal the sturdy space of your lap and the junction between your legs. 

She had to think quickly and be smart in order to not get caught ogling at you when you spring out on the wheeled bed, tool in hand and hands covered darkly in car grime. How you always speak to her with that rumbly timbre edged into the vocal range of your voice, it sends tingles down her spine and shooting into her core, leaving her with a dampened spot in her panties that she has to now deal with after she shuts her front door at her heel. 

The things she would allow you to do with her if she just had the courage to ask. The things you would gladly do to her if she just gave you a chance. But there were other things that you’re better off keeping to yourself and those chores were often curated around a time when you knew she wasn’t home or when it was late and under the cover of night.

Those same tunes play quietly on the stereo ambience in the car. “You sure like this song,” she says with a short giggle. Humming and eyes flickering to hers for a second, your mouth spreads into a sheepish smile. 

“Yeah, it’s a good song. I’ve always enjoyed it.” Your days are fueled by the drone of your old music playing in the background. It keeps you calmer in the more rather… intense moments. 

“I like it.” Wanda now grins, toothy and bright and you can’t explain why, but it fills you with a sense of relief – maybe even pride - that Wanda has taken a liking. Ever since she moved in, this song has become more of a nail in the coffin for you, finally able to see her as at the edge of your own reality. 

‘Thank you, Elvis.’

Your arm reaches down and shifts the gears and speed off down the road.

Just as you promised, you worked on Wanda’s car throughout the day. Tinkering away with the engine, ensuring that the oil was done and changed and wiping your hands over and over messily with the stained rag tucked into your belt. 

“Fucking Hell, Wanda. You live next door to that? And you haven’t pounced on them yet?” Wanda feels her face grow hot, blushing with that sore pinkish colour as she attempts to hide in the high collar of her sweater. 

Her co-worker remains guilty of staring at you — or at least the lower half of you laying from underneath the car — and Wanda scolds her for drooling all over her pants. 

“I’m just saying, if you need a roommate—”

“Oh no,” Wanda quickly interjects, gathering her bag, “I will not become the proxy of a creepy, perv neighbour.”

“Wanda, please, I’m begging you! Just one night to sleep over. Huh, my car has curiously stopped working, do you think that they could uhm… see what the problem is?”

Wanda rolls her eyes with a loud sigh. “You’re so bad, and I mean that in a: ‘get home and have a cold shower’ way.”

Her co-worker shakes her head, her lips sinking inward. “Uh uh. I’m using my vibrator all night long for this one.”

Wanda’s nose scrunches but she fails to conceal her laughter. “Ew!”

She gets out of the car and begins to walk up the pavement of her driveway. She watches the allure of you roll yourself out with a finalising sigh only to find her gaze and grin widely. Those sharper fangs in full view. 

Those adoring, puppy-like eyes and the ever so slight tilt of your head. 

“Hey, Wands.” You scurry outward that bit more and stand, your towering height shadows over her and the afternoon sun paints against your back and shoulders. Your hair is mused and slick, your clothes and smears of your skin in dire need of a wash and your hands are covered to the elbow in a gradient grime.

“Hey, Y/N. Working hard?” 

You chuckle lowly and nod. You do your best to wipe yourself clear to no altering difference. But Wanda finds the charm in the way you look. It’s something she can sense about you that you enjoy a good scalp scratch. She becomes internally greedy and wishful to coddle you and perhaps have an excuse to see you wrapped in nothing but a towel around your waist and skin glowing with the shiny jewels of the dribbling shower water. 

Just as you’re about to invite Wanda to finally test out her car’s health, you pick up the rapid pace of heels clapping on the driveway and see another woman who approaches fast. “Who’s this?” you ask. Wanda, stumbling over her words, introduces her co-worker to you.

With a dip of your chin and lashes framing the unsure, almost shy quarter of your gaze ducks away and only relax when able to find Wanda. 

“H-hi, I’m having car issues of my own. Could I trouble you to take a quick look?”

One of your brows quirk up. You can smell some form of arousal on this woman and the way she looks up at you, blinking, you already put two and two together. You give a shrug on your shoulders anyhow. “Sure.”

You make your way over to the car that you know is in working order by the smell of the freshly changed oil and the tinge of the hot engine. You pop the hood open and quick as anything, you identify the problem. 

Wanda’s entire body grows cold then hot under the stare of your eyes, a little narrowed and pupils raised up to seemingly sink out of view. She thinks she catches that strange anomaly of amber gold flash in your eyes.

“What did you do?” she whispers with a quiet hiss. Her co-worker looks sinfully sheepish and holds up a small object in her hands. She answers quickly with a huff. “I took this thing out.”

Both women go still when your fingers pluck the object out from her hand, a dark smirk crossing your lips as your glare turns to look Wanda up and down, taking her in in her entirety. How did you reach them so quickly without making a single sound?

“Found the problem.”

“O-oh!” 

You adjust the stolen piece back into its proper place and push the hood down with a hard, resounding thud and slap your hand down in it, announcing your finished work. 

“She’s ready to go. An easy fix.”

Wanda has to shoo and shove her dear, embarrassed co-worker back into her driver’s seat and waves her off, watching the poor girl drive home dejected. No harm, no foul to the woman but she wasn’t the one you were interested in. There was little point in indulging in lesser affairs when the one you truly wanted stood no more than a few inches from you. 

“She’s a sweet girl, really. She just…” Wanda’s eyes shy away from yours the moment you snort, smirking down at her and she scratches at the shell of her ear. Was there really an excuse for that kind of behaviour? Maybe not, but Wanda has questioned herself once or twice after a semi mind-blowing orgasm session to her vibrator at the thought of you and why it was that you never appear to be seeing anyone, or bring a single person home for even a one night stand? Plenty of her other neighbours did. And her co-worker’s attempt to try and get her foot in the door couldn’t be blamed fully. You have this roguish appearance, intimidating yet somehow friendly. Wanda never once has had to worry about any sort of trouble such as robbers breaking in because she feels assured and protected that you’re right next door. 

Little to her knowledge, you’ve caught the odd robber trying his luck at busting the lock of her front door in the middle of the night. And there you had been, standing with a shovel in one hand, a thick and sturdy chain in the other and hidden behind the picket fence. 

All you had to do was let the wolfish glow of amber show and ask with a rumbled tone, “What’d you think you’re doing?”

And the robber high-tailed it, complexion paled in comparison to the dark attire he wore.

Your hands pat and paw at the roughened texture of your jeans. With a cock of your head, you indicate to Wanda to follow you. “Come on. Let’s see if my day’s work paid off.”

Giddy and cheeks finally cooling down, Wanda joins you and she slides in. She puts her keys into the ignition and turns it, the car’s engine purrs to life with a steady rumble and she giggles aloud, hands clapping together.

“Shit, that sounds better than before.”

You lean down until your face appears in the window. “Glad to hear it.”

“How can I repay you?” The question leaves over the plump of her lips before she could even register it. 

Would it be wrong to use this as your chance? Your brows line into a considering furrow, lips twisting into a pursed form before you respond. “How about a date tomorrow night?”

You worry you’ve gone too far but when her cheeks fold back into that dimpled, toothy smile and her dark lashes flutter, abashed and her face glowing red, she nods. “Sure, I’d like that.”

The engine purrs low before the rattling kink silences it, shutting it off. 

“It’s really beautiful up here,” Wanda sighs with a smile. 

“Yeah. I like to come up here when I need to get away from things in the neighbourhood.”

Her eyes finally fall away from the view to find you and you turn your gaze to hers. 

“Even me?” she asks smoothly. 

Easily in her tone you register the sounded jest but all the same, it pulls a quiet and caught whine from your throat. 

You shake your head. “No. You’re the only thing I hate leaving behind when I get away.”

You see the way her creamy green eyes move, flittering up and down from your own eyes to your lips then back up. You cannot help but copy the motion. 

She moves in and something inside you, a desperate hunger, meets her halfway and begins to pull her from her passenger seat until she straddles your waist. 

[heartmaddie]

somethin' stupid ft. akaashi keiji childhood friends to lovers , angst hurt/comfort to fluff ; 1.6k words note continuation of this ; thank you to the anon who requested this!

"the time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get so red and, oh, the night's so blue , and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like 'i love you'"

his hands are a blur, drumsticks slamming down on the snare and toms with merciless intensity. each beat representing the pulse in his heart, the sound rippling through his earbuds as his arm cried in agony, his muscles burning, but alas, he forbade their relaxation. his phone’s left stray on the ground below him, slick sweat dripping down his face as he pants erratically. each cymbal crash hits sharp, cutting through the air with brutal precision. akaashi and the drums are one, he’s feeding off the sound, driven by it until there's nothing left but the rhythm and his own refusal to stop. what feels like hours pass by, and he doesn’t stray from his seat, that was until one of the sticks snapped in a neat half, flinging through the air before falling to the hard ground with a thump.

“fuck.” he mutters, standing up quickly and he’s immediately confronted by the pain which stemmed from his prior actions which lasted hours. he leans down to grab the broken wood, before his phone blaringly rings. there’s only one person who’d call him at a time this late. he picks up.

“keiijiiii” you coo into the mic, your intoxication obvious through the slurs, “my designated driver left without me,” akaashi could imagine your pout through the screen.

“hm, and what am i supposed to do about that?” he asks tightly, the impatience apparent on his tongue as he finds a stray towel to wipe his moist back and neck.

“come pick me up. please” you whine, and he’s already midway through pulling up black sweatpants. “and don’t text my mom like you did last time!” he slips a thin shirt over his head.

“you vomited all over my car last time,” he mumbles, rolling his shoulders as he grabs an extra towel for you, and his car keys. “where are you? i’ll leave now.” he steps out of his apartment and towards the elevator down to the car park.

“i don’t know.. check find my or something” you reply, still having a whingey tone as he sighs deeply.

“okay, drink some water while you wait.” he slides into the car and checks your location, “i’ll be there in ten.”

“thank you kei, i love you!” you call out before hanging up.

it’s cruel how those words can so easily roll off your tongue, unaware of how they rip him and his heart apart. his canines dig into the flesh of his mouth, sharp pain and metallic taste flourishing throughout. his slender fingers connect his phone to the car right before he accelerates quickly to get to your location promptly.

he hears the party before he sees it, the car approaching the obstreperous house before parking a couple of houses away. he slides out of the car, keys jingling as he walks towards the house, unamused by the immature activities surrounding him. the base was boosted to an invasive amount, and he could feel the music through his bones. as soon as he steps into the house party, a familiar warmth is flung around his waist.

“kei, you said fifteen minutes..” you mumble against his shoulder, clinging onto him as his hand wraps around your waist as well. your breath reeked of lychee soju and the contact made him scrunch up his nose.

“do you feel sick?” he asks, his voice characteristically soft as he leads you out of the house, taking you back to his car. he hums when your head shakes, but he still ensures that you’re comfortable in his passenger seat with a towel draped over your legs.

his gaze can’t help but occasionally flick over you on the way back. he’s driving slower, he’s more careful about the turns that he takes, and if it wasn’t you in his passenger seat, he’d be annoyed by how long it was taking him to drive what should only take ten minutes. you’re illuminated red by the traffic light so he takes a moment to observe you. even if you were nothing, akaashi keiji would still be hopelessly enamoured by you. he was amazed by your soft hair cascading over your closed eyes, and how you strategically applied your make-up to cover any blemishes, but keiji looks past that and admires the beauty you embodied naturally. he wonders if anyone else notices it too.

for the past two weeks he’s tried to distance himself from you, as whenever he saw you, his heart would swell unmeasurably to the point where it ached. he yearns for you, and it’s so cruel how you’ll always just be out of reach for him. he looked over at you and took a deep, grounding breath. this would be the last time he would see you for a while, he decided. his hand reaches to shake you awake once you reach the location of his apartment. you cling onto his side as he helps you out of the car and towards the elevator. how you aerate the air around his neck is quite distracting, and blood paints his cheeks.

it’s almost endearing - watching you stumble through his apartment, searching for the pajamas that you’d usually keep here. he walked into his bedroom and found you wrapped up in his sheets, still smeared in the make up from earlier that night.

“you’ll get bronzer on my sheets,” he mutters, not being able to control the blush which forms on his cheeks when you roll over and look up at him with drunken, exhausted eyes. he takes a cotton pad drenched in micellar water before swiping it against your face.

you gaze into his deep cerulean blue eyes, and you’re breathless. it was no secret that keiji was a gorgeous man (which is why you’d never introduce him to your other friends), but under the dimmed golden light of his bedside lamp, you have never seen someone so beautiful. there was an emotion that ignited within you with every small glance he’d send your way, something so intimate would sprout within your chest, a feeling found nowhere else. you stared into the eyes which didn’t meet yours as his fingers gently brushed against swollen skin. maybe if keiji akaashi wasn’t so dense, he’d realise that you reciprocated the feelings he felt so deeply as well. soon enough, your gaze snaps away from his and towards the ground, where you notice the small, broken twigs of wood on the ground.

“i thought you hated playing the drums now,” you said simply, looking up at him curiously.

“just felt like it,” he murmurs in response, pushing your hair behind your ears, ignoring the concerned look in your eyes, “i’ll sleep on the couch, text me if you need anything. goodnight.” he moves to leave, fingers squishing the damp cotton pad into a ball, but you stop him. your fingers curl around his slender wrist, and your strength is surprising for someone still a bit intoxicated.

“keiji..” the exhaustion was so evident through your tone, and all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around your waist and keep you close forever. “stay with me tonight..” you attempt to tug him towards the bed, but he anchors himself to the ground.

“no, you should rest by yourself.”

“what if i vomit and die like in breaking bad?” he lets out a soft chuckle,

“you’re not gonna die like jane in breaking bad.” he strokes his fingers through your hair.

“okay but what if i do?”

“you won't.”

“you’re not certain of that,” you argue, sitting up on the bed before he nudges you back down.

“fine, i’ll lie down for a bit.” he slides into the opposite side of the bed, surrounded by your warmth. he jolts in surprise when you pull him into your arms, his head resting above your chest, your nose buried in his black hair. he’s so grateful you can’t see him blushing ever so deeply.

“i love you keiji..” you mumble against his scalp. his heart clenches at what seems to be a platonic declaration of affection, but unbeknownst to him, it meant more than he could imagine. you thought he was stupid, how many times would you need to repeat those stupid three words in his ear before he’d stop just humming in response and repeat them right back?

keiji akaashi’s heart pounded within the confines of his chest, he wanted those words to fall off his lips as easily as they did yours, but they couldn’t. his tongue is tied, afraid that the romantic intention behind his words was different from yours, he’s afraid of losing you. but he’s been holding off on his true feelings for so long that he couldn’t deny them anymore, the guilt was catching up to him so quickly.

he looks into your eyes, taken aback by the sight of everything which was you, which was everything to him. the fear of rejection haunted him, but there was something about your intimate presence which grounded him, bringing him right back to reality.

his fingers weave between the silky strands of your hair, lulling you to the brink of sleep before you’re warmed by his soft, devoted words.

“i love you too, more than you know,” he mumbles sweetly against your temple, soaking in the accords of your expensive designer fragrance as you succumb to sleep. for the first time in a while, akaashi keiji fell asleep without pervasive emotions plaguing his mind.

please like , reblog or follow if you enjoyed :p divs by roseraris

© heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

[slowbison]

State Champs!

Soccer-Mom! Miguel O’Hara x Top! Male Reader

Summary: Miguel and Y/n get ready for Gabriella’s football match, cheering her on while also dealing with a rather annoying parent. It’s all wholesome really, until…

warnings: fluff, wholesome, miguel almost gets into it with a mom

words: 3.2k

Miguel stood behind the car, hand on his hip while the other pointed out as he scanned for anything that he may have possibly missed from his last 4 internal check ups.

Water bottles? check. Snacks? check. Towels? check. First-aid kit? check. Chairs? check. Sunscreen? che-

He couldn’t find it.

“Mija! Dónde está el protector solar?” Miguel said, reaching into the trunk to see if it’s hiding in between the spaces or if he left it behind, but he swore he left in the car.

(where's the sunscreen?)

“Turn around, papa,” a soft voice spoke behind him.

Turning around he saw his daughter pointing at the sunscreen laying on top of the cooler while holding a football in her arm and her small bag slung over her shoulders.

“Oh, gracias mija. Now put your stuff down and let me put it on you.” He said, grabbing the sunscreen and flipping open the cap, applying some on his hands. Gabriella groaned but plopped her stuff on the floor and huffed at the cold sticky feeling as he quickly applied it on her skin.

“I don’t need it! I’ve gone out to a game without it before and everything was fine” she whined. Miguel paused and raised a brow at her face.

“When was that? The last time Y/n dropped you off before I showed up?” He questioned. Gabriella turned to look away, finding the trees rather fascinating today, nervously glancing back at his face.

“Haha, maybe?”

Miguel frowned, turning his head to look at the door you were fumbling to get through, tent and extra chair in your arms. After squeezing your way out, you locked eyes with Miguel’s hard stare and nervously smiling Gabriella in front of him. He covered his hands on her ears before baring his sharp canines at you.

“Tu puta madre! You let her play a game with no sunscreen?! She could’ve burned up!” Miguel hissed at you. You sunk your head into your shoulders and sheepishly met his eyes.

“I forgot? Silly mistake?” You apologized which didn’t seem to please the man much. He was about to say more to you when Gabriella gently took his hands off her ears and looked up at Miguel.

“Papa don’t be mean, I was just excited to play with the team before the game. Don’t be mad.” She softly said, using her puppy dog eyes that always incapacitated his anger. Miguel nostrils flared before offering a small apology to her and gave you another hard glare before putting her stuff in the trunk.

You let out a breath of relief, mouthing a thank you to the child, her replying in kind “you owe me one,” grinning before slipping into the back of the minivan. You realized you’ve been played by a child and huffed, chuckling to yourself as you walked up to Miguel who was lifting the cooler into the trunk.

“You know I’m sorry right, love?” You spoke, leaning into Miguel as you shoved the tent and chair at the side.

“You’re on thin ice right now, idiota.”

“Is it stable enough to still get a kiss?”

Miguel gruffed, turning to face you and gave a small peck on the lips. Not satisfied, you grabbed him by the hips as he turned to leave and pulled him into another kiss, lasting longer than the last. You were interrupted by Gabriella’s loud groaning.

“Get a room! The trunk is still open and I don’t wanna hear that.”

You laughed while Miguel gave you a pointed look, a small hint of blush on his cheeks. You both separated with him going to the driver’s seat after shutting the trunk closed and you entering the passengers door. Miguel pulled out of the driveway and into the road as you and Gabriella argued on what song to play, ultimately letting her win and sang a pop song. Miguel quietly singing along under his breath, drumming his fingers to the beat on the wheel. In between singing and talking you reached the football field that was held at the opposing team’s school.

Miguel had begun unpacking while you set up the tent a little bit far from Gabriella's team and closer to the other parents. Once everything was complete, you wiped the sweat forming on your brow and turned to face Miguel who was tying up Gabriella’s hair into a ponytail.

You smiled watching them, thinking back to four years ago during the first time you met him and later Gabriella. Miguel was always a bit of a grouch but when it came to her, he was as soft as a teddy bear. When you had first met him he had been a bit standoff-ish and serious, but after multiple run-ins at a local coffee shop, along with many cheesy flirtatious comments, you both developed hard feelings that sprung into a relationship. Miguel had been strict with putting Gabriella before him and how if she didn’t come to like you, he would end it. Luckily, Gabriella easily accepted you after noticing your positive influence on her father. He was smiling a lot more when it wasn’t just her and he’d become a softer person in general, though he still held a bite. You were quick to love Gabriella as well, enjoying the fun times you shared with messing with Miguel and bonding over random things. Miguel secretly loved it and played along with being a stickler.

You grabbed the camera and took a couple of shots before recording.

“Here we have our shining star ready to kick some falcon ass, isn’t that right champ?” You said, throwing up a fist which Gabriella returned before impishly smiling into the camera.

“I’m gonna pluck their stupid feathers out and wipe the floor with them!”

“Yeah! That’s the spirit!” You cheered, zooming in the camera on her and Miguel.

“Hey, there will be no cursing,” Miguel warned, staring at you and continuing, patting Gabriella on the shoulders to turn. “But you make sure you show them how the O’Hara’s play fútbol, mija. Especially that Maddison, don’t let her trip you on the ground or I will come out there.”

Gabriella looked up, scrunching her face at him. “You want to fight kids, Papa?”

“Me? No, no, no. Just if they mess with you, I’ll give their parent’s a stern talking.” Miguel said, placing a headband around her head. Gabriella squinted at him, knowing that it was probably a lie.

“Haha, you’re still fighting with them? Think you should end the war, babe.” You laughed.

Miguel had begun this feud with the girl’s parents as they had refused to put an end to their child’s action, much less not offering an apology to Gabriella. He let it go until it continued happening, but each time Gabriella had learned how to evade her "accidental" kicks. Miguel was only slightly mad at the child but more so at the parents encouraging her behavior. Now that Gabriella no longer fell for the girl’s tricks, the mother has resulted to insulting Miguel and Gabriella.

Whether it was with backhanded compliments or purely out of spite. You tried to intervene in their bickering, only to be shooed away and Miguel getting more frustrated at insults thrown your way. The woman’s husband guided her away, you doing the same with Miguel. You were more on the side of ignoring them and focusing more on Gabriella’s playing which so was Miguel, but he couldn’t help but defend his family.

“The second they start being civil is the day the war finally ends, amor.” He huffed, straightening Gabriella’s shirt.

“Just forget about them love. Today, we are going to have fun and school the other team. Ain’t that right Gabby?”

Gabriella gave you a nod, putting on her cleats and placing the ball in the arm. “I’m gonna crush them!” She said confidently, turning to leave, heading to her team before stopping when Miguel called out for her.

“Here take some water, you’re not hurting anyway right? Do you need something to eat? Might be good before-“

“Papa! I’ll be fine, stop worrying okay? you just watch me!” She interrupted with a small giggle.

“I know cariña, go have fun” He spoke softly, kissing the top of her forehead before sending her on her way again.

While he watched her leave and mingle with her team, you snaked your arms around his chest, putting your head on his shoulder.

“She’s going to be just fine love, quite the fighter you’ve raised.”

“You were there as well mi vida, I can’t help but feel scared that she’d get upset if she loses” Miguel muttered, leaning his head on yours. A warm smile crawled on your face.

“Then we’ll be there for her, like always right?” You said, pressing a kiss on his neck. “Now c’mon let’s sit and watch, hm? like we promised.”

Miguel nodded, following you back to the seats and waited for the match to start after their warm ups. Soon, the match begins to start with Gabriella standing at the center of the circle, her team behind outside while she shakes the opposing girl’s hand. At the sound of the whistle, Gabriella quickly kicks the ball forward and the game officially begins.

You sat back in your chair, taking some pictures of the action and sneaking a few of Miguel’s concentrated faces. Some of your personal favorites being when he smiled as Gabriella handled the ball, a cheer when she scored a goal and a displeased face when the ball was stolen from her.

This continued for sometime as you switched between recording and standing to cheer for her whenever she got a little close to the tent.

Smiling and waving after she dribbled the ball between her feet, confusing the opposing team as it slipped through their feet and to a teammate waiting on the outside. You laughed while Miguel shook his head, chuckling at her actions. She returned back to the center field, continuing to push against the other team. A break was then called after another winning score, Gabriella’s team running back to their coach.

Miguel had gone to offer water bottles and snacks to the coaches that happily agreed, leading a few children over to your tent.

Getting up, you began handing out supplies to the children and cracked a few jokes with them. While you watched over the kids, you glanced up to where Miguel stood a little bit close to the tent as Maggie’s mother walked up behind him, arms crossed.

Uh oh. This can’t be too good.

“Miguel! How great it is to see you!” She exclaimed, a smile straining on her face.

“The feeling is mutual, Susan.” Miguel said plainly.

“Saw your daughter out there and wanted to ask if you could tell her to pass it to her teammates more, my Maddie hasn’t had a chance.”

Miguel raised a brow at her.

“If you were paying attention, the ball’s been passed to everyone,” Miguel defended.

“Maybe you should tell her to stop going for my daughter’s ankles, she could actually focus on the game.” Miguel rebutted, a scowl forming on Susan’s face before disappearing and replaced with a fake smile.

“Oh it’s just kids being kids, not sure if you actually knew or just had nothing working up there.”

“I do but, I do love how you just don’t care about what anyone thinks of you.” Miguel jabbed, crossing his arms.

“That’s so crazy because I was thinking the exact same thing every time you wear that shirt, brave choice.”

“Thank you, I wish I could be as relaxed as you are about messiness.”

You could tell that this wasn’t going to end until they were physically pulled apart from each other. Though you did find it hot whenever Miguel got like this, whether it was fighting off single, married, divorced or Susan — whatever she was. You put one of the seemingly older girls in charge, promising extra snacks and walked up to your boyfriend trying to diffuse the situation.

“Hey Susan, don’t mind me, just need some extra hands with the girls, enjoy the game” you chirped, gently grabbing Miguel’s waist and gave him a knowing glance. He huffed, cursing in Spanish under his breath and turned to walk away until he quickly turned back to Susan after she crudely, a smug look on her face.

“Qué dijiste?”

(what did you say?)

Oh no.

“I said-“

“I know what you said gringa. Do not speak bad about y/n just because you and your husband are in marriage counseling,” Miguel hissed. Susan gasped, placing a hand on her chest and was about to speak more, but you quickly interrupted.

“Okay so we’re gonna go this way now, right babe?” You said, looking at Miguel who only glared daggers into the woman. “Yeah, let’s go.”

You both walked over back to the tent, Susan stood watching you before stomping off back to her own. Letting out a sigh of relief that it was over, you payed the older girl with the promised extra snacks. The girls had returned back to their team’s tent at the coaches call, some getting ready for their positions. You turned to your side were Miguel who quietly seething. Placing an arm on his shoulder and bringing your heads together.

“Did I take it too far?” Miguel muttered under his breath. You chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“A little bit, but she said some not so nice things as well sweetheart.”

Miguel grumbled before ultimately allowing himself to be pet by you, a slight pout on his lips. Even if he got a little angry sometimes, he always showed some remorse for his words, which made you love him even more.

“C’mon love, the game's about to start and I want to get the winning shot from Gabriella.” You cooed, wrapping a hand around his and sat back into your seats. The referee blew the whistle signaling that the break was over and both teams ran back onto the field. Gabriella wasn’t in the center anymore, but was placed far out on the left side of the field. Once the ball was kicked into play, the fierce battle for state champs went on.

The opposing team did better this round, but it wasn’t enough against Gabriella’s team and the match only got more heated from there. Miguel had gone to join the other parents out on the sidelines, cheering and shouting encouraging words to the team. You smiled fondly at his enthusiasm and took a couple of pictures of him out in the field and returned to filming the last few moments of the game.

Soon the game reached a boiling point with the last few minutes in the game, where one of Gabriella’s teammates was cornered by the other team. Dribbling the ball around before seeing Gabriella signaling to pass the ball to her, nodding as she kicked the ball in her direction. Gabriella sprinted after the ball and weaved between a defender, legs burning as she ran faster. Sizing up the goalie she pauses and readies her swing, aiming for the upper right net. The goalkeeper sees this and just as she was about to kick, she reaches high to stop her only to realize that she had been juked, feeling the ball whiz past her left side.

The timer stopped and Gabriella’s team erupted in cheers, surrounding her as she excitedly jumped up into the air. You and Miguel did the same with him shouting and loudly proclaiming, “That’s my Gabby! Ese es mi hija!” Clapping his hands and whistling as a few parents laughed and joined. Gabriella turned to help the opposing goalie off the grass and thanked her for the game before taking off to your tent.

Miguel fell to his knees and opened his arms to embrace Gabriella, praising and congratulating her on winning. He then lifted her into the air, doing a little spin before placing her on her shoulders. You cooed at the display, making sure to record every minute of it until Gabriella pointed at you, wanting for you to join them. You walked towards them, pumping your fists in the air before opening your palm for her to hit.

“Did you see? Did ya see me hit that shot?!” She excitedly yelled, hitting your palm and wrapping her hands around it, shaking it profusely.

“Of course! Got it all on video, haha” You laughed, going to tickle her side.

“How does it feel to be state champ, champ?” You asked, watching her think about it before laughing.

“It feels great! I knew I was always gonna win because O’Hara’s always win! Right, Papa?” She giggled, bending down to look at Miguel’s face.

“That’s right mija, you did amazing out there. I’ll always be proud of you, even if you were to lose cariña.” Miguel said warmly, bringing her off his shoulders to hug her once more, pulling you in as well. You wrapped your hand around the both of them, pecking them on the head before breaking.

“Haha let’s celebrate! Go and invite your team for some ice cream down the street.” You said, patting her back. “We can take a few with us if their parents don’t mind. It’s on me!”

“No, it’s on me amor.” Go and tell the mija,” Miguel attested, beginning a small fight over who gets to pay for the children, ending with you ultimately letting him win and sharing a kiss. Gabriella groaned at your display of affection before smiling and running off to tell her friends.

You both watched on as the team erupted in cheers, some running off to tell their parents while others packed their stuff to join Gabriella.

“You wanted to be the cool one with the kids, didn’t you?” You purred into his ear. Miguel looked away with a small blush on his face, embarrassed to be caught.

“Those kids already love you, amor. They think I’m the scary one.” Miguel pouted, to which you softly laughed.

“You’ve got a point, love. They just haven’t seen you outside your grouch form.”

Miguel rolled his eyes at your joke, a small smiling creeping on his face. You both talked with the few children that decided to join Gabriella. Taking down your set up, you all marched back to the minivan and loaded everything into the car. The children talked amongst each other as Miguel drove towards the ice cream shop. You placed a hand on his thigh, giving him a soft smile. Miguel returned your smile with his own which was followed by some giggles. Gabriella whining for you both not to be gross and in love in front of her friends.

The car was filled with laughter as you continued on to your destination, leaving the sun behind.

continue? if you must, but don’t if you wish to remain in la la land, no one will blame you.

(it’s short don’t worry :])

a/n: whaaaa I loved making this one, got me squealing while making this. per usual, i hope y’all like this one. it’s a bit out of the norm of me writing smut here, but this was fun to write. i will now be continuing working on your guys requests that you’ve sent in since this is completed.

up next: reader request! villain reader x miguel o’hara?? dun, dun, duuunnnnn.

[sinkovia]

Coffee Shop: VII

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee shop Masterlist

The next morning as Simon lay in bed, he clicked on the link you texted him about the adoption website. Navigating to the section for dogs, he was surprised to find only one listing – the last puppy up for adoption.

It was a male German Shepherd puppy, approximately two months old. Knowing the pup was too young for K-9 training, Simon decided that having a companion at home would be comforting until then. Quickly filling out the online form, within ten minutes, the puppy was officially Simon's.

The shelter informed him that his new furry friend would be ready for pick-up at noon. Simon went about his morning routine, enjoying breakfast and engaging in a rigorous workout until it was time to pick him up.

Leaving the shelter, Simon stared at the small canine now occupying the passenger seat. The puppy looked up at him with big brown eyes, tilting its head to the side. Simon reached over and noticed the collar was blank.

“No name, huh?” he mused, and the puppy yawned in response.

"Like a little ghost," Simon remarked, and the puppy turned its head, seemingly considering the suggestion.

"Should your name be Ghost, hmm? Well, that might be a bit confusing on base." The puppy whined and laid down in the seat. 

"Ghost Jr.?" The puppy didn't seem convinced, and Simon nodded, "Yeah, it doesn't have the same ring to it."

Simon reached for his phone and snapped a picture of the puppy, deciding to seek suggestions for a name from the team by sending it to the group chat Johnny had created.

Ghost: Name recs?

Johnny: Bartholomew

Captain: Bloody hell, Soap...

Johnny: What about Ghost Jr.? He has your eyes, L.t.

Gaz: Doesn’t really have a ring to it, mate.

Ghost: Thought so too.

Captain: That little pup does look like a Riley.

Ghost looked at the message and back at the puppy.

“What do you think of the name Riley?” The puppy stood up and started walking over to Simon, nestling himself in his lap before closing his eyes.

“Okay, Riley, I gotta drive, mate; you can't sleep there.” Simon picked him up and placed him back on the passenger seat, but Riley got up and made his way back into his lap.

“Bloody hell. Fine, just don’t move around or I’ll crash.”

Simon picked up a few things for him on the way home and set up a corner of the living room for him. After finishing, he sat down on the couch and took a few different pictures of Riley, sending them to you.

When Simon's name lit up on your phone, you eagerly grabbed it, swiping it open to reveal his notification. Your mouth dropped at the sight of the adorable puppy.

Y/n: WOW, you actually adopted him!? He’s so cute!! Did you decide on a name?

Simon: Riley.

He sent another picture of Riley, the puppy looking down at the camera, lifting his paw up, and you nearly melted.

Y/n: Riley is such a cute name for him. Have you bought him any clothes or toys?

Simon smiled as his eyes read over the message. So, you think his last name is cute, huh?

Simon: Riley is my last name.

Simon: Clothes? Dogs need clothes?

Y/n: Oh, I didn’t know that. The name suits him. He’s like a mini you :)

Y/n: They don’t need clothes, but it makes them look really cute. He might need little shoes since it’s getting colder.

Both you and Simon found yourselves smiling at your phones as you texted back and forth. The conversation shifted, and you asked him about his day. You even sent him a picture of your cat Missy, to which he replied.

Simon: She looks hateful.

Y/n: No, she doesn’t! She looks cute.

Throughout the day, you and Simon exchanged a few pictures. Simon shared more photos of Riley, curled up next to him while watching a movie. In return, you sent a picture of yourself in your garden, busy planting new flowers.

This led to Simon asking more about your garden, and you gladly shared details about your favorite plants and flowers. You took him on a virtual photo tour of your backyard, showcasing a thriving fruits and vegetables garden. 

Simon: What type of stuff you growin?

Y/n: Some onion, garlic, potatoes, cabbage, cauliflower, zucchini, carrots, and some others I can’t remember off the top of my head.

Y/n: I even have a cute little apple tree! 

You snapped a picture of Missy sunbathing next to your basket full of produce. Simon smiled at the stretched-out cat, leaning over to show Riley the picture.

“You fond of cats?” Riley started nibbling on the hem of Simon's jacket.

The following day, in the afternoon, you found yourself finishing the batch of apple strudels you had baked, only to realize you had made too much. A sigh escaped you as you surveyed the pan filled with the pastries and glanced at the abundance of produce you had harvested the day before. The realization hit that, being just one person, much of it would go to waste before you could use it all.

You decided to put some of the strudels into a container. Grabbing an extra basket, you carefully arranged half of the vegetables you had picked yesterday.

I'm sure Simon wouldn’t mind a free delivery?

With a small basket and container in hand, you made your way up his driveway and rang the doorbell. Simon peeked through the peephole and cursed when he saw you on the other side.

“Just a second.”

He quickly retreated to his bedroom, donning sweatpants and a hoodie before returning to the door, opening it.

“Hi, sorry to bother you so randomly in the day. I just wanted to drop these off since I had extra.” Simon looked down at the basket in your hands, and then his gaze went to you. He was about to thank you when Riley went between his legs, walking to you. Your eyes grew wide, and you put the basket down on the ground.

“Hi Riley, aw, look at how cute you are.” Simon smiled down at you, loving the way his last name sounded when you said it. Riley was licking your face, and you laughed.

“Would you like to come in?”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude if you're busy.”

“Wasn’t doing much before you came.” 

Simon had been lying in bed, watching a Gordon Ramsey cooking video in nothing but his briefs.

“Okay,” you smiled up at him, and he reached over, grabbing the basket you brought. You picked up Riley, and both of you walked inside. 

Simon's living room bore witness to his minimalistic approach to decor, featuring only a couch, a TV, and a coffee table. As you stood in his living room, the blank walls and empty space caught your attention.

“Sorry love, don’t really know how to decorate.” You laughed, placing Riley down.

“There’s actually a Ross not too far from here. Maybe you could get a lamp… or two. Maybe a painting?” You glanced around, noticing the absence of a dining table or any items on the counters in the kitchen.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this house was for sale.” Simon laughed, placing the basket you brought on the counter.

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Never heard of a Ross.” You turned to face him, eyes wide, “You're joking, right?”

“Dead serious, love.” You pulled out your phone and showed him a picture of the Ross building. “You're telling me you’ve never been inside one of these?”

Simon shook his head again. What was the big deal about this store?

"They have everything in this store! Furniture, clothes, skincare, shoes, purses, home decor, even some spices and snacks, but I wouldn’t trust it. You have to go, Simon! They even have clothes and toys for dogs.” Glancing at the time, Simon looked back at you.

“You have anywhere to be right now?”

“No, I don’t really have things planned on the weekends besides spending time with Missy.”

“You think she’d mind if you were gone for a few hours.” Your smile grew as you caught on to what he was hinting at.

“No.”

Simon placed Riley in the large cage he had bought, and the drive to Ross took only around five minutes. The short trip to the store became a chance for Simon to discover more about your interests and preferences for small talk of course, not that he wanted to know more about you, of course not.

As you walked into Ross, you rambled on about various pieces of furniture and decor, grabbing a cart and leading Simon towards the furniture section. Simon's eyes widened as he checked the price tag for a nightstand.

“Are these things broken or chipped? Why are they so bloody cheap?”

You laughed as Simon added the nightstand to his cart. Navigating through the store, you selected a stylish black lamp, and Simon followed suit, placing it in his cart. Moving on to the decor aisle, you looked at various candles, allowing Simon to sample a few before he settled on one with a pine scent. 

You continued adding small decor items for Simon's coffee table – throw pillows, throw blankets, a rug, a bookshelf, minimalist frames, place mats, and even a skull wax warmer with some clean linen scented melts. Your choices filled the cart with a mix of stylish and cozy additions for Simon's home.

In the kitchen aisle, you insisted on essential items – a fruit basket, organizers for his pantry and fridge, additional pots and pans, and more cooking utensils. Simon, who only owned one pan and one of each silverware, recognized the practicality in your suggestions.

In another aisle, he saw you looking at a cat mug before putting it back and wandering into another section. He quickly grabbed the mug and placed it at the bottom of his cart before making his way to you.

“You ready, love?” You hid something behind your back and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll meet you up front. I just need to look at something real quick.”

You found yourself in the doggy section of the pet aisle, examining various toys and outfits for Riley. Noticing he only had one rope chew toy, you felt compelled to get him more. You selected a little squeaky bone chew toy, a tuxedo, a sweater, and some adorable little shoes – perhaps a size too big, but too cute to resist. To complete the ensemble, you even chose a fluffy bed for him to sleep on.

Doubt crept in – was this too much? Should you put something back? Would Simon find it odd? Shaking off the uncertainty, you shrugged and placed everything in your cart. As you made your way to the registers, you spotted a clearance aisle filled with past holiday-themed items. A cute black and white skull mug caught your eye, and you picked it up.

He asked you to draw skulls on his bookmark, and he really liked the skull wax warmer. I’m sure he’d like this.

 Placing it in your cart, you walked to the registers. Meeting Simon at the front after both of you finished paying, you helped him carry his bags to the car while he handled the nightstand.

When you returned to Simon's house, you dove into helping him unpack everything in the living room. You organized items, rearranged furniture, and experimented with different placements until the layout felt just right.

While you were busy making his home feel cozier, Simon had taken charge in the kitchen, using the ingredients you brought to prepare a meal. He made oven-roasted vegetables and steak, with guidance from a Gordon Ramsey video. Pulling the newly purchased mug from the Ross bag, he washed it and filled it with ice water.

Unbeknownst to Simon, you had stationed yourself on the floor behind the couch, secretly dressing Riley in a little tuxedo. Just as you finished putting on his tiny pants, Simon walked over with two plates, setting them down on the coffee table. Trying to conceal Riley, you quickly grabbed some black kids' sunglasses from the bag and placed them on Riley before picking him up and showing Simon.

“He looks like the dog from the bookmark! I couldn’t find a toy assault rifle, though.” Simon paused for a few seconds, looking at Riley and you holding him up with a big smile. He laughed and picked Riley up, your hands brushing against each other for a moment.

Simon couldn’t ignore the way his heart skipped a beat, feeling your hand against his. A foreign sensation of touch, yet Simon found himself yearning for his hand to linger against yours a few seconds longer.

“I have to show the boys this.” Simon laughed, handing Riley back to you so you could hold him up. He took a picture from the side, excluding you, but the moment he sent it, the boys bombarded his phone with questions, asking if those were your hands and if you two were on a date.

“I also got him another outfit, it’s this sweater and some little shoes for when you take him outside when it starts snowing.” Simon smiled as you gestured towards the other outfit laid out on the couch.

“Thank you, love, for spending your money on him. You really didn’t have to.” You smiled and got up, sitting on the couch.

“It’s no problem at all. I wanted to see him dressed up.”

“He’s definitely going to be a ladies' man at the dog park now.” You laughed, finally noticing the two plates on the coffee table.

“Oh! Is this for me?” Simon walked over to the kitchen, bringing your new mug. “No, it’s actually for Riley.” He approached you with a grin and placed the mug down on the table in front of you.

Your eyes grew wide upon seeing it. “Oh my god! I was thinking about getting this mug at Ross!”

“It’s yours, love, and I cooked dinner for us as a thank you for spending your day helping me spruce up my place and for sharing your garden with me.” You smiled, looking at the delicious meal in front of you. Simon had used the potatoes, carrots, and everything you gave him. The aroma filled the air, and you realized how hungry you were. Almost forgetting the mug you had bought him, you dug through the bag and pulled it out.

“I almost forgot. I actually got you a mug.” When you handed it to him, he smiled, looking at the little skulls.

“You know me so well.” You smiled up at him, and the moment lingered for a few seconds before Riley tried to jump on the coffee table to get to the food.

Simon put on a movie, and both of you enjoyed dinner together, sitting on opposite ends of the couch and sipping from the cups you had bought for each other. After finishing, you insisted on washing the dishes he used to cook, despite his multiple offers to handle it. You expressed gratitude for his effort in cooking, considering the least you could do was tackle the dishes.

Once done, you both indulged in an apple strudel, using the moment to learn more about Simon—his favorite color, a few favorite foods, little details that brought you closer. As the night grew late, you decided it was time to head back home.

“I should really head back home; it’s late.” Despite spending the day with you, Simon felt a twinge of disappointment at your leaving.

“Let me grab my keys; I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh, are you sure? I mean, I only live a few houses down.”

“I insist; it’s dark out. You only live a few houses down anyway; it’s no bother.”

Strapping Riley to a leash, the three of you walked to your house. You pointed out various flowers and plants around your front door, and Simon mentally noted them down, remembering the ones you said you didn't have.

“I had a lot of fun today, and thank you again for cooking and for the mug.” Simon shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket while Riley sniffed around your flowers.

“I should be the one thanking you; my house doesn't look like a prison cell anymore.” You laughed and lightly shook your head. “Maybe next time you could come over, and I could show you how to grow a thing or two. You could meet Missy.”

“Sounds like a plan, love.” You smiled and kneeled down to say goodbye to Riley.

“I’ll talk to you later, goodnight Simon.” You grabbed the keys from your pocket and unlocked your door.

“Goodnight, love.”

When you closed the door behind you, Riley let out a low whine. Simon turned and began walking away.

“I know, Riley. I feel the same way.”

[s-sugustar]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 — 𝖮𝗇𝗒𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗈𝗉𝗈𝗇

🎧﹒𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬﹒✢﹐— friends to kiss, friends don’t have sex, then what are we?

🎧﹒𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠﹒✢﹐— onyankopon x black!fem!reader

🎧﹒𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ﹒✢﹐— unrequited love, angst-ish

🎧﹒𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭﹒✢﹐— 1k

🎧﹒𝐚/𝐧﹒✢﹐— just a lil sumn. Haven’t written in awhile so i’m giving yall this. not proofread.

"Been missing you, y'know." Ony rasped against your ear, after giving you a light kiss to the cheek. The two of you sat in his car, air condition blasting through the fans and you two sat quietly enjoying the music that played on the radio; not too loud but just enough to cover the silence that you two sat in. Eyes low and hooded as your head laid against the rest, high out of your mind, giggling at Ony trying to sing 'Pull Up' by Luh Kel. "I pull up to yo crib every time I miss you. " Ony mumbled, puffing out smoke from the blunt he had not too long passed you.

It had been two hours since he pulled up to your house, blowing the horn for you to come outside and spend some time with him. Of course, you couldn't resist. The blonde waves with a fade and a tooth grill on one of his canines, the olive-green hellcat charger with leather seats; not to mention your name in Italics on the passenger seat head rest.

His outfit was another story. Green hoodie with white t-shirt and all-black sweatpants and the green crocs that you had bought him for his birthday last year so that you two could have matching crocs.

You two weren't together as many speculated but you had been close friends for quite some time. The dynamic between the two of you was odd but neither of you said anything. Just as Connie said, 'Just going with the flow' and that's what you two had been doing all this time.

You liked whatever was going through but sometimes your mind wandered and you ended up wishing that the two of you had something going on.

Maybe it had the false realities you had made up in your mind about your relationship with him, but you knew that would never happen. You knew that he had his mind made up of not getting into any relationship from the time before. You remembered it like it was yesterday.

"You look so beautiful in this dress." Ony complimented, his thumb and index finger played with the hem of your dress. You sat on his lap with your hands around his neck, rubbing shapes onto his neck.

His brown eyes stared into yours, he was high off the love you gave him and loved every second of it while you searched from some sign or clue; wishing that some sort of emotion would appear in his eyes since he never spoke on how he felt.

"What do you think about relationships Y/n?" he asked, looking up to meet your gaze. You quirked an eyebrow before formulating the words to answer his question. “I love every aspect about them. Once you find that person you really cherish in your life, the person you think ‘Yea, I want to spend the rest of my life with’, I think that’s when you know. It’s just not about the thinking about them all day long or the cute little texts they send but it’s how they make you feel on the inside and no, I’m not speaking about sex Ony” you stated, pausing to squint at him when he heard the last part, you playfully rolled your eyes before continuing.

“You’ll know when the time is right. What about you?” you pondered, tilting your head, waiting for his response. Lost in thoughts, Onyakapon rubbed his chin before he answered, shaking his head to confirm his thoughts. “Nah, relationships aren’t my thing. Hasn’t been for awhile. Not since I’ve been around you.” he grinned, making a joke out of something you cherished dearly, but you said nothing. You weren't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing in what he said but it did pull you back slightly.

You looked at him in confusion, head titling to a side. " What do you mean?" You weren't sure on how you felt on his statement so before you jumped to any conclusions you asked him to further explain his statement. "I don't do relationships Y/n. Too much stress and effort but whatever this is we got going on, I like it. No titles, nothing. Just two friends kissing and fooling around." he explained, rubbing circles onto your exposed thigh in hopes of calming whatever thoughts had come into your mind.

"Friends don't kiss and fool around Ony. Friends to buy other friends expensive clothing to wear to 5-star restaurants, to spend time with each other Ony. " You commented, slowly pulling away from hi embrace. He slightly rolled his eyes before answering, " But we do." You laid in his embrace a while longer before getting back into the passenger seat, pulling the seatbelt across your body. You hadn't said much after that as the ride went on, and Ony noticed this but kept quiet. When he made it back to your house, you were quick to get out of the car, but Ony stretched over and pulled the door shut. Before you could protest, he quickly summarized, "Are you upset about what I said earlier?'

Nodding, you heard him sigh. "I get you don't like relationships and what not but I'm not going to go on in a friendship just messing around with you and it gets nowhere. You know how I feel about them Ony. We know each other so why you can't just trust me, Trust me and we can get through this together." By the end of your small speech, you were practically begging Ony to try at having a relationship with you. But with the look on his face, you could already hear his answer. "This was pointless." you muttered before getting out of the car.

When you shut the door to your flat, you silently wished that Ony would come knocking at the door, begging you to open the door so that the two of you could talk and maybe try to work things out. Yet, your imagination can only go so far.

[morbidology]

The RMS Titanic carried more than just human passengers; it also had twelve canine companions on board. Among them were a variety of breeds, including a French Bulldog, a Pekingese, a Fox Terrier, two Pomeranians, and a Great Dane. These dogs were a testament to the wealth and status of some passengers, but their fate on that fateful voyage was as tragic as the ship’s.

As the Titanic met its end, the chaos and confusion of the sinking ship left many to face unimaginable choices. In the scramble to safety, only three of the twelve dogs survived: a Pekingese and two Pomeranians. These smaller breeds were more easily hidden and were likely smuggled onto the lifeboats, providing them with a rare chance of survival.

Among the tragic stories from that night is that of Elizabeth Isham, a 50-year-old passenger whose loyalty to her Great Dane exemplified profound devotion. As the Titanic sank, Isham was informed that her Great Dane was too large to be accommodated on the lifeboats. Faced with this heartbreaking decision, she chose to remain with her dog rather than abandon him.

Elizabeth Isham’s body was discovered days after the ship's sinking, still clinging to her beloved Great Dane.

[fashionteahouse]

Reader x Seth

Reader has always been sacred of wolves due to an incident that happened so when Seth shows her his wolf she’s so scared ran from him. He’s crushed so Leah comes over and reminds her Seth wouldn’t hurt a fly

oki doki ! hope you enjoy :)

save me - seth x reader

The small black square was safe in your hands. The view was worth it. Traveling to Alaska made you open your mind up to the nature and the wildlife.

Snaps of the camera flashed as the picture was captured. You looked at the captures as you walked back to the car that was close.

Another snap catches your attention. It wasn’t from a camera. It was from a tree branch. You slowly look over and see a wolf, locking its eye contact with you. Slowly growling, raising its lips to show off its powerful and sharp canines.

Your heart thuds almost out of your chest. You thought it was going to fall out and flop right in front of your feet.

You look away and you heard the gallops of their huge paws right on your trail. Locking its teeth on your backpack, you scream. Your body shakes in fear as you slide out of your backpack, letting the wolf to just keep it. You just wanted to stay alive.

The wolf slowed down as it looked at the backpack and back at you. You open your car door and somehow, you screech your car’s tires in the other direction. Your heavy breathing is filled in the small car as you drive away. You look to the passenger seat as you realized you never dropped your camera. That’s when the sigh of relief comes.

Coming back home to La Push, you were excited to see your boyfriend. It’s been a long week away but you were excited and as he.

The first person was him. That was the first person you’ve seen when you got back.

“So tell me, what did you see?” he asked as his arm was around your shoulders. He never let his hands leave yours as he guided you through his home.

“I saw a lot. I captured some things too. It’s beautiful out there.” you mused.

You and Seth sat on the couch as you handed him your camera. He clicks through the pictures that you have taken while you were away.

A smile is on his face as he is wowed.

“These are really good!” he exclaims and then he proceeds onto the next pictures.

The same picture that you have taken, right before the wolf made its debut. Your heart thumps at the thought, but Seth thought you were nervous because of the excitement of seeing him. He gives you a blinding smile.

That was the last time you seen him. For a while. Phone calls were going straight to voicemail, texts were being unread, and your heart was cracking.

You just didn’t understand it. Things were good. You were sure of it.

As you printed out your pictures, a knock on your front door surprised you. You weren’t expecting any company.

Opening the door, your entire body froze as you glanced at the boy who went M.I.A.

“Seth, what the hell?” you say and hug him tight.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Seth says apologetically.

You take a step back. The boy has grown taller and looks bigger and stronger. You felt a blush float across your cheeks. He takes a hand in yours and you sigh in happiness at the warmth.

“You’re so warm.” you comment as you eyed him carefully.

“Sorry.” he says sheepishly but you shake your head, “No, it’s okay. I..like it.” you say with a small smile.

“I will tell you why….Ive been away.” Seth says as you both walk. You look at him, “You can tell me anything.” you reassure him. You squeeze his hand a bit for support.

You watch as his shoulders deflate due to relaxation.

“Okay.” he says with a soft smile.

In the woods, his hand leaves yours. You watch him as he takes steps forward.

“Is everything alright?” you ask him. He nods but gives you a look that doesn’t ease your worries.

“Just please don’t run. Okay?” he instructs.

You nod but slowly.

“Just close your eyes.” he says softly.

You slowly close your eyes. Hearing snaps and crackles, you breathe in a sharp breath.

You open them and see a wolf. Your body locks with fear as you examine it. You scream bloody murder, “Seth!”

Whipping around, you ran as fast as you could. Seth tried his best to phase back in time but you were already booking it home.

You sat on your bed with your door locked. Your knees were to your chest as you gently rocked back and forth. You couldn’t believe you were in the same situation twice. The strong heartbeat never leave your ears.

Seth called, Seth tried to visit, but was met with no answer.

Leah noticed the down side of her brother’s personality. He left the home speaking about how he was finally going to see you.

“What’s with the screwed face?” Leah asks as he barely touched his food that she prepared for both him and herself.

“Nothing.” he mutters.

“No, something’s wrong. Just tell me”. Leah says. To her, he was a horrible liar.

He sighs a bit, “I showed Y/N my wolf.”

“Okay? That’s good right?” Leah asks.

“No. It’s not good!” Seth says.

“Seth, what happened?” Leah asks.

He sighs again before revealing, “I showed her my wolf and…She ran. Now, she’s avoiding me..She probably thinks I’m a freak now. It’s over for us.” he finished with defeat.

“No. That’s not true.” Leah says but her brother wasn’t trying to hear it.

Seth feels frustrated and gets up from the table.

Leah stared at his empty seat and decides to take matter into her own hands.

She rapped at the door with her knuckles. She made sure the knocks were loud and clear. You slowly open the door and Leah pushes herself into your home.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Leah asks.

You look down. You shrug.

“A wolf.” You just say with shakes.

“Yes, Seth is a wolf. And?” Leah concluded.

“And I was almost killed by one..” you say, tears start to form as you remembered the interactions you had. The wolf you seen in Alaska was much smaller than the one that Seth morphed into.

“Y/N, one thing about Seth is that he’s not going to hurt you. I promise. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Leah says.

You blink down at the floor.

“Y/N.” Leah calls your name to get you to look at her.

“That’s the last thing he would do. Hurt you.” Leah says.

You sigh as you started to feel bad. You follow her back to the home that her and Seth resides in.

Leah knocked on the bedroom door. It was locked and she knew for a fact that he was having a sulking session.

“Go away!”

“Come on, don’t be a girl. Y/N is here.” Leah says through the door.

Silence was met as you give Leah a nervous look but she just rubs your back.

The door slowly opens to reveal the face that belonged to your heart.

Without saying anything, you both move forward and embrace each other. Holding each other, Leah took it to be her cue to leave.

Seth swayed you in his arms.

“I missed you.” he finally whispers.

“I missed you too.” you whisper back and you both see eye to eye.

Sitting on his bed, he rest a hand on your knee.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. My intent wasn’t to scare you. I wanted to show you all of me.” he says.

You place a hand on his cheek as you shake your head, mostly due to shame.

“No. I’m sorry. You told me not to run. I ran…” you sigh before continuing, “When I saw your wolf it just brought back to when I encountered a wild wolf in Alaska.”

“I would never hurt you. I wish you would’ve told me.” he says with passion.

He slides a hand into yours and you close it, bringing both you two’s fingers together. A smile is matched on both of your faces as you both take in each other. You know that the meaning behind is words were true.

[procyonloser]

The road was empty and dark, apart from the occasional lizard or snake out basking on the edges of the asphalt, warming up after a day of the sun beating it to shit. Adam only ever drove at night, if he could help it, because the summer weather had his ass sweatier than someone on the rag in shark infested waters. There stopped being street lights after awhile, in the middle of the open range, no point to it, not enough people, so Adam drove with his high beams bright enough they'd probably blind a small child.

Adam knew he was starting to get a bit tired, but what he wasn't expecting, was to see a figure illuminated in his lights, off to the left of the road. They looked small and pale, and Adam had heard tales of sex workers getting dumped out in the middle of the desert and left to die. He screeched his car to a halt, just past the person, and rolled down his window. He was a bit surprised to see it was a man, but he was still thin, short, and didn't look real capable. And, more startling, he had splatters of blood on his shirt.

"Fuck man, you good?" Adam asked, brows knit together. The figure walked up closer to the window, and blinked at him owlishly for a second.

"I'm fine, but my car broke down." He said, his voice a deeper tone than Adam expected to hear come out of his body. "I...hit a deer."

That explained the blood then, Adam thought to himself. Fuckin' mule deer were all over Arizona. "I'm headed up north, did you want a ride? Could drop you at the nearest mechanic, but it'll probably be a few hours."

He stared at Adam blankly for a second, before a sharp grin started to spread across his face, pulling too wide at the corners, and his canines seemed weirdly long. "I would appreciate it...?"

"Adam, my name is Adam." He answered, and unlocked the door so he could walk around and get in the passenger seat. The man sat down, and Adam could smell the metallic scent of blood all over him. "You like music? I blast it while I'm driving."

"I love music," the stranger answered, staring unwaveringly at Adam, to the point he was starting to wonder if he'd hit his head in the car accident. "Will you sing for me?"

Adam paused, revving the engine of his old truck. "...Sure? Where's your car, by the way, I can get the coordinates."

"Oh, it's fine. It wasn't mine anyway." He said with a light laugh, but it put Adam on edge.

"... You said you hit a deer, right?" Adam asked, fingers tightening a bit on the wheel. Something about the guy was starting to freak him out, even if he was likely a fourth of what Adam weighed, and about a foot shorter.

"Sure," he responded, still smiling. "A deer. Yes."

"O...kay... You're not hurt, right? That's a good amount of blood on you." Adam asked, slowly starting to roll back down the road.

"I'm fine," he responded instantly. "Can you take me wherever you're going instead?"

Adam hesitated. He didn't want to say no, the guy was starting to give him serial killer vibes, even if Adam couldn't see any weapons on him. "Yeah, sure. What's your name?"

"Lucifer." Oh, great, he was a serial killer and insane.

"How long have you been out here?"

"Not sure, feels like hundreds of years. It's good to finally be free."