#directing her like a border collie

[rowanthestrange]

I feel like the TARDIS having a giant laser gun could’ve solved more problems than just this one.

[ellecdc]

Hi, I don't actually know if your requests are open but I was just wondering if you could do a fic about poly!Mauraders x reader, but it's a full moon and when James and Sirius are out with moony, they run into another wolf (reader) and moony just instantly takes a liking to her. Imagine moony trying to follow her around, and reader keeps snapping her jaw at him. I could also imagine reader is maybe a Slytherin?

Sorry if this isn't good, I just popped into my head, and I went with it. Take your time, and don't rush yourself 💓

"sorry if this isn't good - don't rush" uhm, it was fantastic and I wrote it IMMEDIATELY thank youuuuu!!!! <3

poly!marauders x werewolf!reader who's unwittingly integrated into their pack [2.3k words]

CW: fem!reader, werewolf behaviour, some aggression/fighting, canine aggression and submission, Padfoot's had it up to fucking here with them all thank you very much

Padfoot wondered for a moment if maybe he was just some glorified herding dog at this point whilst he struggled to keep Moony on their usual routine when the werewolf seemed thoroughly hellbent on breaking it.

Moony - a blood hound tonight, apparently - insisted on following his nose, Padfoot’s incessant demands to stick to plan be damned. 

And unfortunately for Padfoot, it didn’t seem like Prongs or Wormtail had any clue how to deal with Moony either.

Great.

So instead of their usual routine of transforming in the shack, letting Moony out, following their trail where they run (and roll, in Moony & Padfoot’s case) down a large hill before chasing each other along the river bank, grabbing a drink from the edge of the Black Lake and slowly making their way back to the shack…Moony no sooner got to the bottom of their hill before he picked up some scent and followed it down dark, wandering paths through the Forbidden Forest.

Padfoot had tried encouraging a mouth wrestle and romp - no dice. Prongs tried taking off in a sprint, hoping to elicit Moony’s instinct to chase - no dice. Wormtail bit Moony’s foot which only saw him nearly stomped on as the werewolf continued on his journey. Prongs tried bodily shoving Moony back in the direction of the shack to no avail. 

Padfoot was just about ready to pick a bloody fight with the beast when he heard snuffling followed by a low growl.

Unfortunately for Padfoot, Moony didn’t miss it either, and before he knew which way was up, Moony took off in a sprint towards the sound. 

Padfoot hoped to come back in his next life as a border collie - maybe he’d have better luck with the likes of sheep.

And that decision was only solidified when he turned the corner to find Moony staring down another werewolf who had her hackles raised and teeth bared at the bastard who seemed either ignorant to canine body language or was actively choosing to ignore it.

At least sheep will have the bloody wherewithal to avoid danger. 

Padfoot made a quiet whimpering sound, hoping to encourage Moony to get the hells out of here, but it only served to have Moony’s ear flick in his general direction before returning to his new wolf friend. 

Prongs huffed a breath and stomped his hoof into the earth, and Padfoot noticed then that Wormtail was nowhere to be found - the bloody coward. 

Moony tried to crane his neck forward to sniff at the wolf's paws, only for the wolf to snarl and snap at him before smacking him with said paw like a sodding cat. 

Moony at least had the grace to lower himself to the ground in submission for but a moment before he bounced back up to try doing much the same. 

This time, the wolf charged at Moony, pinning him to the earth by his throat as she growled at him; the sound muffled by the fact that Moony’s sodding neck was in her mouth.

Prongs grunted and made to charge in Moony’s defence, causing the wolf to release Moony and look at him sceptically, and Moony to growl at Prongs warningly - he did not want their help. 

Fine by Padfoot. He wasn’t much interested in helping a werewolf with a death wish anyway. 

But when the wolf decided this was all perhaps a bit too much for her, turning away from the strange pack to continue on its path - of which the marauders should be on their own, thank you very much - Moony went to follow, and dammit, this was Padfoot’s pack.

And if it wasn’t his pack, it was his herd, and what kind of border collie would Padfoot be if he let his pack sheep out of his sight?

Not a very good one, is what.

So, with a huff of resignation, Padfoot trailed behind the wolves - one that kept turning to nip, snap, and snarl at pesky Moony, and pesky Moony who kept trying to get a sniff or even, more disturbingly, incite play with a gentle nip - Prongs (and Wormtail, by means of Prongs’ antlers) trailed behind him. 

The wolf seemed resigned to her fate in having company for the rest of the evening, though that didn’t mean she was pleased about it. Every time Padfoot thought the wolf’s hackles were going down, Moony playbowed in front of her like an overgrown lanky puppy, and they rose right back up. 

The new wolf, for her part, spent the evening snuffling through the dried leaves and moss on the floor, stretching against tree trunks and using the bark to sharpen her claws (still not unlike a cat), and chewing on a stick. 

Padfoot thought that actually all seemed like a really nice way to spend the evening.

Or, you know, it would have been, had he not been in charge of this ridiculous rag-tag group of misfits he unwittingly found himself responsible for. 

But eventually, the evening had to come to an end, and that end was signalled by the twitching of Moony’s muscles underneath his fur as the moon started pulling at his bones, and it appeared to be doing the same for you.

But the night couldn’t end, it seemed, if you weren’t coming with Moony. And for as annoyed as Padfoot had been all evening, he was growing increasingly anxious. 

You abandoned your stick and stood, beginning to limp away from them when Moony grunted and hurried after you, causing Padfoot and Prongs to bark and bleat respectively. 

Any levity that the wolf had found for the marauders quickly vanished in the face of her oncoming transformation and the pain radiating through her when she turned on Moony and lunged at him. Padfoot whimpered and felt his heart try to escape through his throat as earth flew up in the air due to paws digging into the ground for traction and scrambling for purchase. 

The wolf's growls were different now, though; they weren’t bored, they weren’t dismissive, and they weren’t even all that threatening. The wolf was scared - panicked, even. Padfoot could see it in the speed of her breathing and the whites of her eyes that she was quickly descending into terror. 

They were close, so close, to the shack; Padfoot was certain he could get Moony back before the transformation if he would just get a sodding move on.

But it appeared Moony was wholly unwilling to leave without this wolf, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

The wolf seemed to come to the same conclusion as Padfoot, stepping away from Moony before submitting for the first time all evening, and wincing as Padfoot heard one of her joints shift. 

Moony let out a sigh, moving over to the wolf who seemed so small now that she was cowering at the base of the tree with Moony standing above her, nudging her face and neck with his nose before licking over her face. 

The wolf whimpered, and Padfoot watched as Moony’s right hind foot came out from underneath him for a moment - as if he tripped - telling him that the transformation was starting. 

Padfoot whined, and he swore Moony actually nodded his head in understanding before he gently grabbed the wolf by the scruff of the neck and encouraged her to stand. 

Resigned to her fate, the wolf followed the pack towards the shack, barely making it into the room before the transformation took over.

The first thing you noticed when you came to wasn’t the pain, though that was there. It was always there. 

No, the first thing you noticed when you came to was the feeling of linen on top of you and something soft below you. 

That wasn’t right; that couldn’t be right, could it? You were supposed to be in the cave. 

But when you shifted your arm and felt the linen - a blanket? - fall from your shoulder, you knew it was true. You were not in the cave. You were not in the cave, and someone had found you. 

“I think she’s awake.” 

Someones had found you.

You were not in the cave, people had found you, and you were not alone.

You sat up suddenly, holding the blanket to your chest as you shuffled away from the sounds before your back met something solid. Your head felt heavy and off-kilter, like you were standing on a boat swaying on rolling waves.

You had a wicked migraine coming on.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there doll.” Another voice sounded.

“What-” You tried, cutting yourself off to clear your throat when your voice came out gravely and painful, threatening to bring up whatever you still had in your stomach from dinner two nights ago; the last time you could manage food. “Why are you- why am I here? Where am I? What-”

“Open your eyes, L/N.” The second voice offered, though you could tell the inflection was softer than it naturally was; you wondered if that took him a lot of effort. “You’re okay.”

Your breaths began to quicken because you didn’t feel okay, this didn’t feel okay. Someone knew, they knew; they had found you, you were found out.

The sun was still low, so the light in the….room? shack? hut? was dim, though it still made your eyes water with the impending migraine lined up in your temples as if just waiting for a good excuse to wreak havoc on your brain. 

You were accosted with the sight of Sirius Black crouching in front of you, elbows on his knees as his eyebrows hooked in the middle; James Potter standing behind him with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at you much the same. 

“You’re okay.” James repeated, nodding his head encouragingly as your vision began to swim.

“Try to relax, doll; you’re not going to feel very well if you work yourself up.”

You let out a hysterical breath that bordered between a laugh and a sob as a few tears spilled out. “Relax? I- what… How could you- why are you here?”

James grimaced. “Sorry, that would be Moony’s fault.” 

“Moony? I-” But your question was cut off  when you heard the shuffling off bedding from across the room, and both James and Sirius turned towards the sound, exposing Remus Lupin sitting up on an old mattress, rubbing at his eyes as a blanket fell and pooled at his hips, exposing his bare torso that was….covered in claw marks.

“Oh gods.” You let out with a sob. “What did I- Did I do that?” 

“What?” Remus let out groggily as both Sirius and James quickly denied it. 

“No, no. Listen, angel, please relax-”

“Stop telling me to relax.” You nearly shrilled. “And stop calling me nice names!”

Too tired, too freaked out, and too confused to have chosen your wording carefully, you appeared to have said something wrong when Sirius’ mouth turned up in a salacious smirk. 

“You like our nice names?”

“No!” 

“I think you do.” James continued.

“Leave the poor girl alone.” Remus grumbled before he fell back onto his bed, rubbing harshly at his eyes.

“Where are we?” You asked simply, swallowing around your gag reflex.

“The shrieking shack.” James answered just as simply.

“Okay.” You acknowledged. “Why?”

“Well, Moony wouldn’t leave without you, so we sort of had to bring you with us.” Sirius answered.

“Moony…?”

“That’s me.” You heard Remus mutter, voice muffled from behind his hands. 

“And…I didn’t hurt anyone last night?” You asked slowly. 

James’ face softened as he started to shake his head no, but Sirius scoffed.

“Define hurt, gorgeous. I was pissed, for one. Two, you had that wanker by the throat for most of the night.” He said, gesturing behind him to Remus with a careless thumb. 

“Why?”

“He wouldn’t bloody leave you alone! I was exhausted just watching.” Sirius continued.

“Would you stop bloody shouting?” Remus grumbled, and you couldn’t help but agree as you rubbed at your head. 

“Anyway,” James continued at a more appropriate volume, “he wouldn’t leave without you, so we brought you back here for the transformation. Where…where were you going to go for the transformation?” 

You flushed as you wrapped the blanket tighter around your person. “There's…a cave I usually go to.” You admitted in a whisper.

“Well, I bet this is an upgrade then, no?” Sirius offered somewhat haughtily, but his face fell quickly when you began speaking again.

“You can’t tell anyone…please.” 

“Tell anyone?” James repeated.

“I…no one knows, no one can know.”

“Whoa, babe, hang on. Who’re we gonna tell?” Sirius asked then, a disbelieving look painting his features. 

“I-” you started, swallowing again “I don’t know but, I just, you can’t-”

“We weren’t gonna tell anyone.” James assured you. “We aren’t going to tell anyone; there’s nothing to tell.” 

You must have looked sceptical, because Sirius quickly intervened.

“Alright look, we promise not to tell anyone about your lycanthropy, as long as you promise not to tell anyone about Remus’, or about James and I being illegal, unregistered animagi.” 

Your mouth actually fell open as you looked between the three of them; James as he turned to grab some vials of pain potions and healing balms, Sirius who was smirking at you salaciously, and Remus who was carding his hand through his hair and smiling (try grimacing) at you apologetically. 

“Welcome to the pack, L/N.” Remus said wryly before he downed the potion James handed to him in one, effortless swig and laid back down. 

“We’re called the marauders.” James explained as he handed you a matching potion. “We’ll have to find you a nickname. Don’t worry though, we have a whole month to come up with one.” 

What the fuck?

[doberbutts]

Is the high level of inbreeding in dobes more because "undesirable" traits are common so those dogs get weeded out (whether actual bad things or just not fitting the breed spec), a small number of breeders having the monopoly, or because they are all related anyway so there's no way of avoiding it without an outcross program? Is something like the Doberman Preservation ​Project a realistic future for the breed?

The doberman breed is in the current shape its in due to multiple genetic bottlenecks- some simple stupid breeding decisions and others due to active war zones and the consequences of wars- paired with people who are stubbornly refusing to even try to make it better because they have convinced themselves that what they're doing is right.

Fenris is my lowest COI dobe to date [23% iirc] and while not the lowest I've seen in the breed [19%], still a huge improvement over to 50-60% breed average. But people have argued again and again that lowering COI means making breeding decisions that produce inferior dogs, and so many refuse to even consider it as a possibility.

(For non-dog people, COI is coefficient of inbreeding, and it is a look at the numbers behind how inbred a population is. You want as low of a number as possible. 25% is equal to immediate siblings. Ideally we'd want single digit numbers, with anything over 10% being a major problem to fix. To compare, my chihuahuas are something like 6% (Fae) and 0.02% (Tater). Sushi is a direct line breeding aunt-to-nephew so she's up in the 40s.)

(It doesn't necessarily mean a dog is immune to genetic predisposition to bad health, as evidenced by Tater's CM diagnosis, however it does seem to correlate directly with longevity and likelihood of developing these problems, meaning Tater unfortunately just lost the genetic lottery)

In other words, it is certainly possible to reduce the COI of the breed by HALF with smart breeding decisions, and people are plugging their ears going LA LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU because it means actually going out and looking past the popular sires and taking a chance on a dog that might not be your exact type but will still improve the next generation. This is not just a show line problem because I spend the majority of my time with working line dobes and working dobe people and this is an incredibly annoying problem there too. Fenris himself has popular sires in his pedigree, both the show half and the working half, so it is demonstratably very difficult to avoid.

I do think a well executed outcross project is needed, however... the problem I have is that the current proposed projects all suck. There's not a lot of direction outside of throwing things into the pot and seeing what sticks, and a lot of the resulting dogs quite frankly aren't what doberman people would be looking for anyway. Farm collies? Bulldogs? Bullies? Carolina dogs? Border collies? Pyrs? Why??? None of these are going to make a dog that has the temperament that draws people to this breed.

There are. A bunch of breeders who are waiting for an outcross project that actually makes sense. They've even posted in various outcrops groups that they would support a project if it had certain specifications. Many have said, get yourself a nice female and title her out in a bite sport and do all the doberman health testing even if she's not a doberman and we'd be interested in contributing semen. The response almost invariably has been "but I don't want a protective dog". Then what are you doing in a DOBERMAN project??? So of course the chief complaint is that most of these projects are not looking to make dobermans, they're looking to make their own breed and just have a doberman paint job. Well, sorry, but most involved doberman people want a DOBERMAN, not just a dog that looks like one. This is the only AKC recognized breed with the sole function of personal protection. They are protective dogs. Either accept that, or get interested in a different breed.

I have heard increasingly concerning things regarding the temperament of the doberman diversity project dogs, which does not surprise me unfortunately as none of these dogs are in any way sourced from dogs with verifiable correct temperament. What do you get when you cross a Craigslist Corso with a Craigslist doberman? Well the first generation might be okay for people who want pets but apparently the ones that have worked in protection are awful at it. Same with the malinois crosses- of course, you took a lukewarm malinois and bred it to a z-list doberman and you're surprised that you got a bunch of lukewarm at best pet dogs.

I think the only project I solidly am somewhat interested in is the bandog cross, and that cross works just fine but then of course it does because in that country, bandogs are exclusively military, police, and security dogs, and she bred it to a igp3 doberman. Unfortunately the doberman died before his 10th birthday, so now we're all waiting to see what happens with his progeny.

[onlyrains]

[5:21pm]

genre: comfort, fluff wc: 1.1k ┊not proofread!

you are nothing near from being the greatest singer of the century, to begin with. you're not even a singer at all. but layla, a border collie of your best friend's–jake, might be your first fan ever.

whenever she sees you around in some comfortable circumstances, she's never hesitate to lay down beside you and sometimes even rest her jaw on your thigh. on top of that, one day when jake come to your place to check on you while you lay sick on your bed, she also lies and put her paw on your arm.

she keeps ignoring her nature as one of the most active and energetic breed and you have a soft spot for her also. so of course, you always gladly sing for her. you even made a playlist to sing for her, which full of coldplay's old songs that you found she loves the most.

as an owner, jake found this quite beneficial sometimes when he needs to done his things but very much confused at the same time. what's up with your voice? he's a good singer too. people even recognize him for that. but why's his dog, his best buddy, his love, never react the way she does for you?

"she's my child, jake." you always say.

"stop saying that. i literally clean, do the chores, and work for her?" and he always replies.

today, as he promised yesterday, he came to your place with layla. and no, you're not sick today, it's apparently the opposite. he arrived with a pissed, frustrated face and refuse to talk fifteen minutes ago. he's just walks around your living room with his disheveled white office shirt.

you continue to read your book while playing with layla's hair and humming to coldplay's song. you make sure to open your bedroom door widely to let him know that he can come in when he's ready. it's not the first time you've seen jake in this state and you know the best way to deal with it is just let him do anything he wants. he will talk about it when he's tired.

speaking of which, the tail of your eye catches his movement towards you. well, maybe it is a very serious matter since he has never got tired this quick.

"what's up?" you snap, closing your book on your stomach. layla got up at your sudden movement as she sees her owner walks in your direction. she jumps on the floor and her favorite song is now long gone.

"jake?" he sits on layla's spot earlier and lets out a deep sigh.

"it's work." his eyes looking at the white sheets beneath him and draw an imaginary circle with his index.

"i know. wanna talk about it?"

he drags his body to lay next to you, head burried in your pillow while his arms stretched out to his side and your neck, almost choking you.

"i don't know, girl. i'm just... tired."

"is it that bad?" you ask carefully.

he nods. "there's a problem with the project and this mf blame me for it," he groans. thank god your pillow muffled his voice.

"oh? what a prick."

"can you sing for me?" he raises his head.

you never turn your head so fast.

"what?" you blurt out a laugh.

he lies on his side, perfectly facing you. "oh, c'mon. you always make layla chill out with it."

"but you're not layla?"

"i'm her owner, you know. she's my daughter. like father like dau–"

"okay, stop. you started sound silly,"

"babe, c'mon. i just need to sleep. you know how much effort i put on this project? i barely had a proper sleep,"

as soon as that pet name came out of his mouth you know it's hard to win over him. he will starts pleading as soon as he can, so you let out a heavy sigh and stretch your arm reluctantly.

"c'mere,"

the next thing you know, he already burried his head on your shoulder. well, actually, this is your first time being this close with him in this kind of position despite your nth years of friendship.

so when he’s seemingly already found his spot on the crook of your neck, you can't help but squirm a little, but jake is too quick to catch your waist to prevent you from moving anywhere.

"don't move." he says against your neck.

you bite your inner cheek to hold back a sharp gasp that almost come out of nowhere.

you take a deep breath before placing your hand on his head, brushing his hair lightly. you decide to continue to sing to spark, which was previously forcibly cut off.

"my heart is yours," you start to whisper.

"it's you that i hold on to,

that's what i do,

and i know i was wrong,

but i won't let you down,

mmm, yeah, i will, yeah, i will, yes, i will," your voice get slightly lower.

"i said, oh,

i cry, oh,

yeah, i saw sparks,

yeah, i saw sparks." you massage his scalp lightly.

"sing it out,

la la la la la la,"

you feel his breathing becomes steady while in fact he's just enjoying his action to inhaling your scent that mixed with a soft fragrant from your newly washed sweater. he has never been this relax in a long time.

you keep on with the lyrics in humming as your eyes glued to the plain ceiling of your room. you feel his arm is still lazily attached to your waist then what are you doing, really? is it normal to cuddle your friend from high school? is it okay to comfort your guy friend like this?

you haven't finished think about that but jake already raised his head.

his eyes slightly red from the drowsiness that suddenly hit him but the smile on his mouth is as wide as ever. "y'know, layla actually has a good taste."

a heat suddenly strikes your cheek, causing it to turn to a shade of red.

his head turns to his dog on the floor. "dang, my girl is talented, for real."

you roll your eyes at him. "okay, now move."

he's quick to back on his previous spot, even more suffocating right now as he pulls you impossibly close to his body.

he tilts his head upward to face you. his wet eyes stares at you so innocently, which quite opposite to his actions that practically hugging you so tight while trying to sleep.

"ey, c'mon, don't be so stingy," he snuggles to you, again.

you bite your lip this time. maybe you just as tired as him, but you swear, you saw the sparks.

[jam3sacaster]

in dire need of taggie’s bsf!reader x patrick THE ABSOLUTE ANGST PLS

omg YES PLS 🤩🤩🫶🏽

“You have so much celestial light.”

(Rivals) Patrick O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by this sweet anon 🫶🏽

18+ FANFIC / Implied smut & GORGEOUS Patrick 🥰 Reader character aged at 21. Hope you enjoy! 🩷 (Tumblr give us Patrick gifs NOW)

The bluebell woods leading the pathway to The Priory were in full bloom under the gleaming summer sunlight — creating the most magnificent artwork of indigo petals across the dew-topped fields. Taggie O’Hara was sprinting frantically after Gertrude, who had taken a rather unwelcome liking to a passing fox. Duchess, your much more affable border collie, stayed put by your feet, although the temptation to bound after Gertrude was increasing. “Taggie! Don’t run, it just makes her worse.” You called after your copper-haired friend, keeling over in a thunderous fit of laughter. Unable to resist temptation any longer, Duchess bolted off to your right but you, entirely unfazed, allowed her to.

“Hello, beautiful.” A buttery soft voice spoke beside you. Glancing upwards, the breath caught in your throat. A statuesque man — chiselled jawline, long ringlets of chocolate brown curls and rippling biceps that bulged from his tight shirt. “Duchess, here girl.” You called out, but she was lay on her back, excitedly squirming as the man knelt beside her and stroked her chest. In the distance, Taggie was some yards ahead, her willowy limbs unable to keep up with the pace of her sprint. “It’s terribly uncouth to ignore somebody’s compliment.” He spoke again, jokingly. Blushing furiously, your look of bewilderment was seemingly diminutive in comparison to his. His emerald green gaze couldn’t remove its hold from you, and his jaw was agape — he was transfixed.

“Patrick O’Hara, your future husband.” He introduced himself, rising to his feet and advancing towards you. Taking your hand, he blessed it with a gentle kiss. Your already flustered cheeks were now glowing the most mortifying magenta. “Patrick? You’re Taggie’s…” You began, but with a self-righteous smile, he finished your sentence. “Brother, yes. I imagine she’s told you about me, as I’ve been told many a story about you. Thank you for looking after her.” Patrick’s voice was charmingly solemn now, and it made your heart flutter like the frantic wings of a bumblebee inside your chest.

Attaching Duchess back onto her lead, you both began to follow in the direction of Taggie, although she was so far in the distance by now that her copper hair appeared as a small amber beacon leading the way, something you and Patrick both shared a delightful giggle over. “Do you have a girlfriend at university then?” You questioned, as nonchalantly as you could muster. “No. The girls at Trinity don’t have enough celestial light. When you find the one, the light just blinds you intensely. It’s very important.” Patrick informs you, taking a hold of Duchess’ lead. “Do I have celestial light?” You continued to probe, stopping dead in your tracks and batting your wispy eyelashes towards him. “Oh darling, you have so much celestial light.” Patrick beamed in response, turning on his heels and leading you down to the river bank.

The tranquil rushing of the river instantaneously steadied your heartbeat. Setting up camp on two large, jagged rocks, Patrick released Duchess from her roped restraint and cackled as she bounded across the river bank, most certainly in search of Gertrude. “What has Taggie told you about me then?” You inquired, your delicate voice sounding otherworldly serene against the babbling brook. “She’s told me that you’re an angel. I always thought that was just an expression until now. But darling, you are heavenly.” Patrick whispered the honeyed words, and enchanted shivers reverberated throughout your body. “Oh, Patrick. Don’t be silly.” You muttered, inching closer towards him.

Brushing a lock of leather black hair away from your eyes, Patrick took a moment to inspect you further — pin straight hair that framed your soft jawline perfectly, a buttoned nose & cerulean eyes that twinkled so majestically that they appeared almost lilac. “Here you are.” Taggie panted breathlessly, much louder than that of the two exhausted dogs sat by her feet. “Gertrude followed the fox to its den, and then went sprinting off with Duchess.” She puffed, slipping down beside you and resting her rouged cheek on your shoulder. “Tired, Tag?” Patrick smiled — but there was a disheartened tonality in his voice. “Exhausted! And I’ve been looking for you two for ages.” She sighed as you patted the top of her head softly.

“Anyway. Umm, I’ll head back to The Priory. I’m sure Mum will want to see me. I’ll see you later.” Patrick sighed, and jumped to his feet. “Oh Patrick, wait…” You exclaimed, but you faltered sorrowfully as he had already begun to trudge across the damp leaves, head hanging.

“I waited for a girl like you to come and save my life…” - Out of My League, Fitz & The Tantrums.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Beachfront Bliss

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Pairing: Billy "Fritz" Avalone x F!Reader

Summary: You're walking your dog, Delilah, along the beach until she decides to chase after a handsome man playing football with his buddies.

Manny Jacinto Characters Masterlist

The sun is slowly setting on San Diego. You'd just gotten home from work and now you're getting your dog, a border collie named Delilah, ready for her walk. She's excitedly shaking her tail as she stares up at you while you hold her leash.

"Wait," you command and Delilah sits, watching you expectantly.

You clip the leash onto her collar and open the front door, "Good girl!" Delilah promptly races out the door, only stopping when the retractable leash has met the end.

"Come!" you call for her and she rushes back to your side, sticking to it as you walk down your street and towards the beach.

As you grow closer, the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore become louder. Once pavement becomes sand, you slip off your sandals, stuffing them into your tote bag as you continue to walk.

There isn't a lot of people on the beach since it's midweek. However, you do see a group of people playing football.

The commotion alerts Delilah as the two of you near the group. There's boisterous laughing and hollering. The group spreads out as you grow closer, so you walk further away to not potentially be hit.

You avert your attention ahead, moving on from the football group, however, Delilah seems very keen on watching them, trying to stay in place.

"Come on, Lilah!" you lock the retractable leash and give her a warning tug, urging her to continue walking, "Let's finish your walk!"

Your commands fall deaf on her ears as she watches the group continue their game of football. One of the men throws the ball and another tried to catch it. The ball grazes his fingertips and causes the ball to go flying in your direction. It falls a few feet away from you and, before you could even blink, Delilah pounces at it. The sudden movement frees her leash from your hand.

"Delilah!" you shout as your dog starts running around the beach with the football in her mouth.

The group of people all laugh and begin to join you in the chase for your dog. Delilah clearly thinks it's a game as she dodges and weaves through everyone's legs. Men and a few women topple into the sand as they attempt to catch Delilah.

You and the others eventually start to slow down, growing tired of your dog's antics.

You stand there, hands on your hips, looking at your dog like a disappointed mother. She meanders over with a pep in her step and drops the football at your feet.

You sigh, pinching your nose, "Thank you, Lilah." You pick up the football and hand it to the nearest man. His tanned skin and toned chest are on full display. He's wearing classic ray bans and a smile that makes your heart stop for a moment.

"Sorry about her."

He chuckles, "Don't worry about it. Never thought it'd be a dog to take down a group of Navy Pilots."

Your brows shoot up in surprise, looking at the group of people around you, "You're all in the Navy?"

He nods, "Yup and I think you just proved to our Captain that we need to work out more."

You giggle, "Yeah. Again, sorry about her. She's probably a little stir-crazy. Haven't been able to take her out as much due to work. As you can see, she has a lot of energy."

The man kneels and begins to pet her, "She's cute so I'll forgive her. What's her name?"

"Delilah or Lilah or Deli."

"Well hello, Delilah, I'm Billy, but my friends call me Fritz."

"Fritz?" you look at him confused as he rises to a stand again.

"My call-sign."

"Frtiz! C'mon, man!" one of the guys hollers.

"I gotta-"

"You should-"

Both of you speak at the same time and stop with a chuckle.

Fritz holds his hand out, "It was nice meeting you..."

"Y/N. Nice to meet you Fritz," you shake his hand, "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"Thanks! You too! Maybe I'll see you guys around again!" he gives you a wave and heads back to his Navy friends who were all in position for the next game.

You watch them for a little bit, admiring the very attractive group of people before you. Then you chuckle, ruffling Delilah's fur before tugging her along. She's apprehensive, wanting to go back to "playing" with her new friends.

"C'mon, princess. We gotta go back home and start making dinner." Delilah reluctantly proceeds to follow you through the sand, leaving her new friends behind.

_______________________

It was your friend's, Jackie's, birthday and she wanted to do a bar crawl. You were one of the designated drivers so you've mainly stuck with water throughout the night and keeping a careful eye on your friend.

The next bar on her list was called the Hard Deck, which is apparently home to a lot of Navy officers. When you hear this, a part of you hopes you might run into Fritz, but there's no way, right?

Your group clamber into the bar, which was jam packed considering it was a Friday night.

"It's my birthday so feel free to buy me drinks!" you're already drunk friend hollers. A few men already begin to approach her ready to fulfill her request.

You tell your other friend, Abby, that you're going to find a table for your group. She gives you a salute and turn back to watch the rest of the group.

As you're weaving through bodies, you suddenly bump into someone, spilling their drink.

"Shit! I'm so so-Fritz!"

He looks at you in surprise, "Hey! Y/N!" then looks at you confused, "I'm kind of surprised to see you here."

You snort, "Yeah, um, not a place you'd usually find me at on a Friday night, but it's my friend's birthday," you point over your shoulder to Jackie with her birthday crown on her head and down a shot as your friends and a few Navy men cheer her on, "We're doing a bar crawl, but I'm the DD."

He nods in understanding, "Got it."

"Actually, you don't happen to see any free tables, do you? That's what I was doing before I bumped into you. Also, I will definitely get you a replacement drink for that!"

He chuckles, "It's fine. Really and you and your group can join me and my buddies."

"You sure?" you look at him apprehensively.

"Yeah, besides, I know a few of them will definitely pay for your guys' drinks," he gives you a smirk.

You snicker, "Alright. Let me go grab them."

"I'll follow you," he places his hand on your lower back as he follows you back to the counter where your friends are gathered.

"Hey!" you tap Abby on the shoulder, "This is my friend, Fritz," you point to him over your shoulder and he waves.

Abby gives you a questioning look, "Friend?"

"The guy I met on the beach because Lilah stole their football?"

"Ooooh!" she waves at him, "Hi!"

"Hi! I told Y/N that you guys can share tables with my buddies and I."

"You sure?"

"Oh yeah. Some of them will most likely pay for your drinks too."

Abby snorts, "Well I can't deny free drinks." She proceeds to tell the other women the plan and grabs Jackie's hand, leading her away from the men chatting her up.

She stumbles and you catch her, "Easy there, babe!"

Jackie spots Fritz over your shoulder, "It's my birthday!"

He laughs, "So I heard. Happy birthday!"

"Thanks!" she looks to you and not so secretly says, "He's cute!"

You chuckle, "Yeah, babe. Let's go to the table, 'kay?"

She nods, "Okay," and follows you and Fritz towards the back of the bar. He stops at three tables filled with the same group of people you saw on the beach weeks prior.

"Hey! Beach Girl!" a brunette with a thick mustache calls out.

You wave, "Nice to see you again."

"What're you doing here in our neck of the woods, beautiful?" the tall blonde one asks with a grin that makes you roll your eyes.

Jackie stands beside you and you gesture to her, "It's my friend's birthday. We're doing a bar crawl. This is one of our stops. Jackie, say hi."

Jackie waves, "Hi," she looks at everyone in awe, "Why are all of you guys so hot?!"

You facepalm, "Jackie's filter flies out the window when she's drunk," you explain to Fritz.

"The guys are gonna love it."

The men let the ladies have their seats, standing around them and making conversation.

You continue to stand beside Fritz, fanning yourself. He looks at you in concern, "You okay?"

"Just getting a bit warm."

"Wanna step onto the deck? It's just out there," he points to the double doors behind you. You take a look at your friends and make sure they're okay before you step out.

Once you're outside, you give a sigh of contentment. The cool breeze immediately chills your body in a welcoming way.

You rest your back against the railing so you can still keep an eye on your friends. Abby looks at you through the window giving you a questioning thumbs up. You smile giving her a thumbs up back and she goes back to her conversation.

"When did you guys start the crawl?"

You look at the time on your phone, "About two hours ago, but Jackie and a few others pregamed. So by the time we hit like the second bar, they were far gone already."

"How many more bars are on your list?"

"Jackie wanted to hit ten, but I'm not sure if we'll even get to the fifth one." There's cheers from inside as Jackie downs yet another shot.

"Not much of a drinker?"

You scrunch your nose and shake your head, "Nah. This overall thing isn't really me, but Jackie's one of my best friends, so I'll come out of my cave for her."

Fritz's nose crinkles as he laughs and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

"How's Delilah?"

"Good. She's happier now that work is starting to slow down and I can take her out for longer walks though."

"She hasn't stolen anymore footballs, has she?"

You snort, "Fortunately not, and she hasn't managed to take down another group of Naval officers either."

"Hey, she took us by surprise. We'd already been out there for a while, our energy was already low."

"Suuure. Keep telling yourself that, Fly Boy."

The two of you stay out there for some time, getting lost in conversation and each other's company. You've discovered that not only is Fritz handsome, but he's funny, kind, loyal, and a nerd. He has his parents and two sister back at home. He's a very family-oriented person and you admire him for that.

You two lose track of time and before you know it, Abby is coming out to you two.

"We're calling it a night. Jackie's is so far gone and some of the other girls are getting there."

"Alright. We should start closing tabs then."

"His buddies took care of it," she nods to Fritz.

You and Fritz grin at each other, "Told you," he says.

"Well, thank your friends for me. And thanks for keeping me company out here."

You step to leave, but Fritz stops you, "Wait, actually, is it okay if I get your number? I'd like to take you out some time."

You smile and nod at him, "Yeah. Of course!" you two quickly exchange numbers and promptly head back inside with Abby.

You gather your friends up, Fritz and his buddies helping you and Abby walk Jackie and the others out.

Your group piles into yours and Abby's car, waving at the group of men, "Thanks again, fellas!" you yell out before driving away.

Fritz stands there with his buddies and once you're out of sight, they begin to badger him about getting your number.

He reluctantly says that he did and his pals cheer him on with pride.

Before he goes to sleep that night, Fritz sends you a text:

It was nice chatting with you. Let me know your schedule so we can plan that date. Hope your friends don't give you too much trouble.

Sweet dreams. - Fritz

[enchantedflameandflower]

Vincent Stevens x reader fic Part 2! by @kus-babygirl

mood board by @kus-babygirl

Vincent x reader multi-part romance! This was all entirely written by @kus-babygirl and her idea as well. I’ve done all the editing and added some bits here and there and she’s asked me to post for her. If you leave a comment make sure to tag @kus-babygirl!

tag list: @jynx15 @karlurbanism

(Part 1)

Part 2

The blare of your alarm wakes you early the next morning, reverberating loudly off the walls of your small apartment. You groan a little before switching it off and sit up in bed, instantly remembering what happened the night before with your new boss, Vincent Stevens. 

"Fuck," you groan to yourself. You hope you still have a job when you go in today. 

After grabbing a scolding shower to wake yourself up and getting dressed in a white blouse, black trousers and a blazer, you grab yourself a quick cereal bar to eat in the car. You check the time, 7:30, and pull on your sneakers. The heels last night killed your feet so you ware going for comfort today. You grab your phone and bag and make your way of out the apartment, locking it up. 

As you make your way out, you quickly say hi to Oliver, the doorman at your building. He is a good guy and always looks out for you. You rush to your car, and on the way to your new work building, you stop at a bakery that is about 8 minutes away and grab two coffees and a mixed tray of bagels, which consists of plain, cinnamon and raisin, blueberry, and poppyseed bagels. 

You get back to your car with your goodies, and make your way to your new office. Once there you find a parking space and head inside, stopping by the front desk to tell them you’re the new receptionist for Vincent Stevens. The woman gives a look of surprise and disbelief, probably because of the thought you would actually want to work under him. Secretly you can"t blame her. There’s probably many women that would refuse to work with him.

But you’re ready to look past the affairs because there might actually be a reason why he did it, bad marriage or something else. You can’t look past the murder accusation, though, if you found out that is true, but all the evidence seemed to suggest he was definitely set up.

The woman quickly composes herself before directing you towards his office, while also giving you a pass key for the building and your new login information for the computer. You smile politely, thanking her before making your way up to his office. 

When you arrive at the office, you put your stuff down on the empty desk, before walking over to Vincent’s door and knocking. You get no answer, so you figure he hasn’t arrived yet and you settle at the desk, logging into your computer while making a list of things you want to get for your office, if you are allowed to decorate it. 

Not even 10 minutes later, Vincent walks in with a border collie beside him. He startles when he sees you sitting there, shocked that you still wanted to work for him after last night. "Hey," he says, looking at you nervously. 

You lift your head up and smile slightly when you see him. "Hello, Mr. Stevens," you say, getting up and grabbing a coffee and the bagels, and offering them to him.

He looks at you curiously, obviously wondering why you would get all this stuff. 

"It’s a peace offering,” you explain quickly. “I wanted to apologize for what I said last night. I’m not going to make any excuses, but I was a tiny bit drunk. That still doesn’t excuse what I said, and I shouldn’t have said it to you, knowing you were my new boss. I’m kind of buttering you up to keep my job,” you admit. 

He chuckles softly, shaking his head while taking the coffee and a poppyseed bagel. "Please call me, Vincent. Mr Stevens makes me feel old. And don’t worry, sweetheart, your job is safe. I should be the one apologizing after flirting with you like that. I guess after all of the aff-" 

"I know what you mean," you interrupt, blushing at the nickname, but knowing he probably doesn"t want to talk about the affairs and everything else with you.

You put the tray back on your desk before looking at him, and his dog comes over and starts sniffing at you.

"That’s Finn, my dog. He comes to work with me, because I don’t want to leave him alone at home. I hope you’re okay with dogs," he says, looking at Finn, 

You smile, kneeling down and giving Finn some love. "I love dogs," you happily smile. 

"That’s good, he will take any amount of that," he chuckles, watching you. 

After a few minutes of petting Finn, you stand up, grabbing your coffee and taking a few sips of it. 

"You got your pass key and log-in information alright?" he asks. 

You nod, "Yeah, I did, thank you. What would you like me to do today?" 

"Just basically take my calls and set up meetings for me. Write appointments down, the usual stuff." He smiles, making his way towards his office with Finn in tow and taking a cinnamon and raisin bagel on the way. 

"Okay, that I can do," you smile back from behind your desk. 

After taking calls all day and scheduling meetings, it’s time to finally go home. 

Vincent walks you down to your car, waving goodbye when you leave the car park. You go into your apartment and crash on the sofa, feeling absolutely exhausted from the day. You can’t help but smile realising you might have a small little crush on your boss, but you decide to bury it deep, not wanting to ruin the friendship that is slowly starting to form.

[thejakeslayla]

I have a script idea in my mind, but if you don't want to, you can of course not write it.

I had a fight with Jake this morning and i got angry and went to the club with my friend to drink. The end of the night, i was so drunk, my friend called my bf Jake, and asked him to pick me up. Then while Jake is trying to drive me home we start arguing about why I went to the club and why get so drunk. Later, when he sees that we are really bad-drunk, he worries about me and takes good care of me.

I'm sorry if it's too much, you don't have to write it. I hope it didn't sound like an order. I dont want to be misunderstood. :(

╰─▸❝ going through hard time in your relationship with jake ❞

idol!jake x gn! reader ୨୧ genre angst, fluff at the ending ୨୧ warnings profanity, alcohol, neglect of relationship and a dog, arguments, kissing, sfw intimacy (jake helping reader change) ୨୧ wc 3k

you woke up unusually early today. your boss had called you two days ago and requested that you come in earlier due to the recent workload at your company. you agreed to the request, and the night before, as you prepared to wake up early, you asked jake to walk layla, your adorable border collie puppy.

as you left the bed, jake sensed the absence of your warmth and presence. he shifted in bed as you gathered your things from the desk. glancing in his direction, you greeted him with a smile, taking note of how he was presently rubbing his sleepy eyes. he appeared incredibly endearing, with disheveled hair and a groggy expression on his face.

"where are you going, angel?" he asked, his morning voice, with its deep and soothing timbre, melting your heart. you packed everything into your bag and approached the bed. you playfully tousled his blond locks and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"i'm going to work, baby. don't forget to take layla for a walk, okay?" you reminded him, thinking that he might still be half-asleep and not thinking clearly. as you began to move away, jake grabbed your wrist, preventing you from getting too far.

"what? I have morning practice today, i can't," he said, and you looked at him, realizing he was fully awake now and understanding the situation.

"jake, I told you yesterday right after you got home. do you even listen to me when i talk to you?"

you understood that your boyfriend had a busy schedule, but lately, it felt like he wasn't fully present when you spoke to him. he used to pay attention to even the smallest details of your conversations, but recently, he seemed to forget the topics altogether. when the first week passed, you attributed it to him being overworked, as it had happened before, but now it had been weeks.

he didn’t have time for you, which you at some point got used to, you understood, it was his job. but layla was his puppy, he was the one to grow up with her and you just came into his life, when layla was already there. at the very least, he should be able to spare some time for her, a single walk wouldn't hurt him. 

you sighed, your expression becoming more irritated. he remained silent for a while, and when he finally responded, you couldn't help but explode in anger.

“y/n, i can’t. just walk her today, please.” 

he had the audacity to ask you to walk her, even though you did it every day. it's not like you didn't enjoy it; in fact, you loved it. but you weren't the rightful owner of layla. sometimes it felt that way, as you were the one feeding her, playing with her, taking her to the vet, and walking her.

“jake, literally what the fuck is wrong with you?” you exclaimed, unable to contain the anger that had been building up over the weeks.“are you aware that layla is also your fucking dog? i moved in with you, and yes, i agreed to take care of her too because i treat her like my own, even though she isn't.” 

“i get that and i truly understand that you’re too busy to spend time with me, but she’s a fucking dog!I can't explain to her that her dad is a neglectful owner who's too busy with work to even walk her when i'm busy!” you shouted. “you're not the only one with a job here. i've had to leave early numerous times to take care of her or handle things for you because you were too busy.” 

“show her that you love her at least! you already don’t show me that, so do it for her!” 

with those words, you left, slamming the bedroom door behind you. your whole day was now ruined. you despised how jake had been treating you and your precious "puppy daughter" lately. you noticed how layla always waited by the front door, ignoring your calls when it was bedtime, falling asleep on the doormat rather than in your bed right behind you. she was always near you, ready to comfort you when you cried because of jake's absence. she missed him as much as you did, but she was a puppy who wouldn't understand why jake wasn't home.

you said goodbye to hear, promising her that you'd be back soon. leaving the house, you felt a heavy weight pressing down on you with each step. a knot of anxiety and unbearable sadness twisted in your stomach.

on the other side, jake remained in bed, utterly shocked by your words. when he realized that he should probably apologize and agree with you, that he had been a terrible owner to layla and an awful boyfriend to you, it was already too late. you had left.

he looked at layla, who appeared clearly clueless, wagging her tail as she noticed that jake was awake. he patted the mattress, inviting her up.

as you arrived at the office, your coworker and best friend of several years instantly picked up on your bad mood. she didn't press you for details, knowing that you would open up during lunch. 

and it did happen. as you took another bite of your rice, she sat down next to you, and it took only a few minutes for you to vent and share the morning's argument with jake 

"i just don't understand. it's not like i don't enjoy taking care of layla, but it feels like he's changed. we used to take walks with her together, play with her together, and—" you sighed, toying with your food as your mind filled with memories of you and jake spending time together.

"i absolutely adore her. it really feels like she's just my dog, like she's not jake's dog anymore. but he told me when i moved in that she's our dog now, that we'd both take care of her." 

"i don't know anymore. i just want to get absolutely wasted tonight," you concluded, looking at your best friend.

"well, you could say that you three are like a family now. it says a lot about jake if he's treating layla and you like that. i don't even want to imagine if layla were a human, not a dog." 

and you thought about it. jake wouldn't treat his own human daughter like this, would he?

you didn't even realize when the scenery changed, and you found yourself in a nearby club, sipping on your second, or maybe third, drink. you were ready to order another one when your friend stopped you.

"remember that you're lightheaded, okay? i don't want you to end up sick from another drink." you could tell she was concerned, but you paid her no attention. your goal for the night was to forget all your problems.

after about two more drinks, you danced for a solid hour, immersing yourself in the crowd, engaging in small talk, and meeting new people. one drink too many, and your head landed on the table. everything was spinning, and your stomach felt uneasy. you tried to calm yourself with deep breaths, you weren’t ready to go home, you didn’t want to see jake just yet.

as you closed your eyes to rest, you immediately regretted it as everything spun even faster.

"y/n, you don't look well. i think that's enough for you," your best friend's soft voice whispered near your ear. 

"maybe you should pick up the phone and ask jake to come get you?" she asked. you had been ignoring jake's calls since you finished your first drink. it was even later now, and your phone showed 23 missed calls and 31 messages.

"he's probably worried about you, y/n. you should at least text him that you're okay."

and as she said that, your phone rang again. you weren't quick enough, as your best friend picked up the phone.

"hi, umm... i work with y/n. she's okay, yes. she's safe, but... well, she's drunk. i told her to call you, but she keeps saying she doesn't want to talk to you. i'll message you the address. please come get her."

and just like that, almost ten minutes later, you heard his voice. god, how much you hated his beautiful voice right now. 

"y/n! princess, my dear," you heard him getting closer. he wrapped his arm around your waist as he sat next to you. "why didn't you tell me you were going clubbing?"

"leave me alone, jaeyun. i don't want to talk to you," you mumbled, trying to move away, but he was simply too strong.

"it's okay. let's just go home and talk, okay?" 

you couldn't resist his firm grasp, and he easily guided you into the car. with all the movement, your stomach churned, and you had to fight the urge to throw up. as you got into the car, jake handed you a bottle of water and fastened your seatbelt, but he didn't start the car yet.

"can we talk?" he asked, his voice gentle and quiet.

“there's nothing to talk about. just drive me home," you replied, ignoring his extended hand holding the water bottle.

“y/n–“ 

"there's nothing to talk about!" you shouted, frustrated and intoxicated enough to raise your voice. 

“can you at least fucking listen to me?” he also raised his voice, trying to be heard over you. 

“listen, i know i fucked up. i walked layla this morning, i left work early, and i spent time with her. i understand how you felt, and—“ 

“you don’t understand shit.” you spat out. “you have no idea how much you've hurt me.” 

“but layla is fine–“ 

"it's not about layla! for weeks, i've been wondering why you're avoiding me, because that's how it feels. you're only home to sleep and, sometimes maybe eat, when you feel like acknowledging your girlfriend. but oh, sorry, you don't even listen to her!" you cut him off, too angry to hold back, the alcohol removing any filter.

"i really don't get what changed. i don't understand what i did to deserve this treatment. but if this is what our relationship is going to look like, i don't want to be in it." 

jake’s eyes widened, shocked that you could actually break up with him. you – the love of his life, his princess, his angel, his everything. e was one hundred percent sure he couldn't live without you. his source of happiness, you were his source of happiness. he grabbed your wrist, gently squeezing it. 

“y/n, don’t say that.” he finally spoke, and you finally realised how hurt he was, the sadness in his voice evident.

“drive me home.” 

and he did. he helped you out of the car, and you clung to him as if your life depended on it. he guided you to the bed and left you there to change, going to fetch water, a bowl in case you needed to vomit, and some medicine to prevent a hangover the next day.

as he returned to the bedroom, you were lying on the bed, still in your clothes, wrapped in a blanket.

"hey, angel. here, drink some water, okay?" he said softly, brushing the hair from your face. he helped you take a few sips, but you ended up chugging the entire glass.

"let me help you, okay?" he said, helping you sit up. he handed you one of his t-shirts and a pair of your pajama pants. he sighed when he turned around to you and you were laying down again. after yet again, forcing you to sit up, he grabbed the end of your blouse. 

“may i?” he asked and when you nodded, the cold air attacked your warm skin. you groaned at the feeling. “here, here. one second, princess.” he said, noticing your reaction. he helped you put on the t-shirt and quickly moved to your pants. you accidentally kicked him a couple of times as he tried to remove your clothes, but it wasn't hard enough to hurt him.

once you were changed, he wrapped the blanket around you. then he left the bedroom again, returning with another glass of water. as he set it down, he noticed you had already fallen into a deep sleep, your cheek pressed against the pillow as you hugged a plushie.

he remembered the day he had won that plushie for you. you had joked that it was a miniature version of him, as it was a golden retriever plushie. secretly, he had sprayed it with his perfume every time he had to leave for a tour, leaving you with it to cuddle at night. 

he adored the way you looked when you slept, your face so relaxed, your body rising and falling with your steady breathing. you appeared innocent and pure. he couldn't resist himself, and despite the strong smell of alcohol on you, he placed a kiss on your forehead and then your cheek.

his hand almost unconsciously moved to your head, softly stroking your hair as he sat beside you.

"i'm so sorry, angel," he whispered, still admiring your face. "i should've known better. i should've realized you were hurting."

"i love you so much. if i could, i would go back in time and fix everything. spend more time with you, appreciate you more, and show you just how much i really love you."

if only jake knew that you weren't asleep, that the moment he had touched your head, you had awakened. you couldn't help but feel sad, heartbroken even, as you heard his words. 

"i'm so sorry for being a bad boyfriend, a bad dog owner, and just... overall a bad person. i got so caught up in my work that i forgot i also needed to take care of you. you're way more important than work. you're the love of my life, the person i want to spend my future with. i have so many plans that involve you, my angel."

"jake..." you whispered, slowly opening your eyes.

he withdrew his hand, realizing that you had heard everything he had just confessed. instead of saying anything else, you opened your arms, inviting him into a hug 

"i love you," you said, as he wrapped his arms around you.

"i love you so much, y/n. i'm really sorry. i'll spend more time with you, i promise. i'll be better," he spoke softly, right next to your ear, then pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"it's okay, jake. i understand. it's your job, and you have to be there most of the time. i just wish you were home more often."

"i will, i promise you that, love."

in the following days, jake made a sincere effort to keep his promise of spending more time with you. he adjusted his work schedule to free up some evenings and weekends, ensuring that he had quality time to devote to both you and layla.

one sunny saturday morning, jake surprised you with a homemade breakfast in bed. it wasn’t perfect, the toast slightly burnt and your coffee had too much sugar, but it just made the whole gesture more adorable. he'd even prepared layla's favorite treats, and the three of you enjoyed a cozy meal together. it was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to you.

as the weeks passed, you noticed a positive change in jake's behavior. he was more present, attentive, and genuinely engaged in your conversations. he made an effort to plan special outings and romantic date nights, just like when you first started dating. it was as if he had rediscovered the magic of your relationship.

your bond with layla also strengthened during this time. you both took her on long walks in the park, played fetch and each day jake sent you at least one article on how to take better care of your dog. it was clear that he was determined to be the best dog dad he could be.

one evening, as you and jake cuddled on the couch watching a movie, he turned to you with a heartfelt expression. "y/n, i can't thank you enough for helping me realize what truly matters. i was so consumed by my work that i lost sight of the most important things in my life—you and layla."

tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to hold his hand, your fingers interlocking with his. the emotions swelled within you, and you felt a profound connection to the man beside you. "jake," you began, your voice filled with sincerity, "we all make mistakes. what matters is that we learn from them and grow stronger together. i love you, and i'm so glad to see the changes you've made."

jake leaned in and pressed a soft, tender kiss to your forehead. the affectionate gesture sent a warm shiver down your spine, and you nestled even closer to him, finding comfort in his embrace. as the movie continued to play, all while their loyal four-legged companion, layla, lay at your feet, contentedly dozing off, feeling the warmth of her family surrounding her.

as time went on, the two of you learned that love wasn't just about saying "i love you." it was about showing that love through actions, and jake had proven that he was willing to do whatever it took to make your relationship stronger.

. . . . . -ˋˏ ✎ author's note! oh my!! i enjoyed writing this one so much, thank you for requesting with so much details, it was easier to understand your request and write what you actually wanted! hope you enjoyed ♡ requests: open © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

[directdogman]

In the light of getting Randy facts, could we in theory, get some Oliver ones too? For the Gays?

For the Gays?

And who exactly do you think the Randy facts were for, HMMM? alright, alright. i guess you guys can have a second character post, as a treat. so, what, you wanna see into his head, is that it?

Oliver has a deep well of confidence inside him which he pulls from constantly. This helps give Oliver the zesty enthusiasm that he's known for. As a down side though, Oliver's vast confidence can make him somewhat reckless when it comes to picking his battles.

When Oliver is with his friends and a random problem arises, Oliver has a tendency to say "aha, step aside, I've got this!" and will (slightly more than) occasionally hurt himself through his eager attempt to attempt to perform a task that he clearly isn't remotely qualified to perform. Oliver is right about 20% of the time, and it's beautiful when he is. He just doesn't know how to pick his battles. I swear, Oliver's brain is 25% border collie at times.

While Oliver doesn't exactly think wisely on his feet, his ability to work through puzzles when let think about a problem in silence is basically legendary. Oliver is a natural troubleshooter, subdividing and solving most problems with relative ease.

Oliver has a naturally poor attention span and badly struggles to commit to tasks he doesn't care about, leaving most things he doesn't care about until the very last minute. He's a skilled 3d visualizer and while his long term memory isn't great, his ability to remember a ton of tiny details, short term, while working is exceptional.

Oliver has a natural sense of direction. His brain maps alternate transport routes automatically and he usually knows shortcuts around places he often visits that others miss. Oh, I'll mention a few cross-cast relationships.

Karen: Some of Oliver's humour just genuinely does not land with Karen. It's not even, like, offensive to her, just incomprehensible. "Is this image trying to drive me insane? Is that the joke?" However, she finds about 1/3 of Oliver's humour the funniest thing in the world. Oliver is the only main cast member able to reliably make Karen laugh out loud.

Norm: Norm admires Oliver for being open-minded, honest and compassionate to others. Oliver's tendency to overextend himself and eagerly offer any help that he can think to ask (like an eager greyhound or borzoi, sprinting around in circles) when he offers help to his friends is something Norm has noticed and admires. Oliver has a hands-on attitude and a natural sense of duty/responsibility to others, which reminds Norm of his younger self.

Stabby and Shooty: Stabby: "You can't mug him. Really. We tried and he said no." Shooty: "It's true, you can't. He knows the game." Stabby: "Yeah, he knows we're not actually gonna hurt him if he says no. Someone must've told him." Shooty: "Nah, I reckon he just... didn't think we were capable of taking him when he saw how we were built. Even two on one, bro, the odds aren't really in our favour. Like, we're not exactly BUFF." Stabby: "Yeah. Shit. Yeah... Anyway, nah, still haven't gotten a dime from the guy. But, whatever! FUCK HIM. HIS loss, bro." Shooty: "Yeah, his loss, bro!" Stabby: "..." Shooty: "...You can't deny though, the guy has style." Stabby: "YEAH. Can't deny, the guy's pretty stylish."

[makethatelevenrings]

Somewhere Only We Know - ONE

Chapter Warnings: goodbye earl (pet death), spoilers for 2x01 kinda??, this is a bit rushed bc it’s exposition but we get into the fun stuff next chapter

Masterlist

“Oh fucking hell.”

You hadn’t expected the first game of your new job to end like this but here you were creating Canva tribute posts for a deceased dog. Keeley directed you to make sure that you were focusing on solely sympathetic posts and honoring Earl. You had the press conference pulled up on one of your monitors to ensure you were catching what was being said along with the social media feeds.

And of course Ted Lasso did an excellent job honoring Earl. That man made your life easier.

A knock sounded on your office door and you raised your head to find Keeley peeking into your office. “You survived your first day! Better than Earl, I’d say.”

You choked back a laugh and motioned her to come in. “Christ, Keels, poor things not even buried yet.”

“Sorry, sorry. I just wanted to come see how you were getting on. Rebecca looked at the Insta with me and I have to say, your graphics are a hoot. Are you up for a task to do sometime this week?”

“Yeah, of course. It is my job, after all.”

She grinned. “Right, right. Well, Rebecca bought Barkingham Palace in honor of Earl and I would love it if you could go get some photos and videos with the dogs. They have some named after the players too! We have some little dog jerseys you can bring with you.”

“I can do that. Anything in particular you want to see?”

She bounced up onto her feet and shook her head. “Nope! Make it cute, make it fun. I know you’ll do a great job. You’re doing fabulous, babes.”

Raising your coffee mug in salute, you returned back to your work as she fled your tiny office in a wash of pink and glitter. Considering the tasks she could have given you, hanging out with a bunch of dogs wasn’t bad.

Three days later, you found yourself at Barkingham Palace with a golden retriever demanding pets and a staffie jumping up in an attempt to lick your face. You laughed in delight as dogs scrambled around you. You had successfully slid little Richmond jerseys over a few of the dogs heads and now a tiny Pomeranian was proudly sporting a Rojas jersey. A Border Collie wore a visor and whistle and you snapped a picture. You sent that one to Coach Lasso and received a GIF of a dog laughing in response.

Two Spaniels with McAdoo and Zoreaux jerseys made a great video with the way they tumbled over each other. One of the media guys you had recruited for help with capturing photos got a few shots of you being tackled by a Labrador wearing a Bumbercatch jersey.

The dogs were so cute that you even put your information down to volunteer in the future when you and Mikey, the photographer, packed up for the day. There was one little dachshund that kept following you around but there was no way you could get a dog, especially when your new job required you to travel frequently. Volunteering would help get in some well deserved snuggles.

By the time you got home, a few texts were waiting for you. Keeley asked for a few picture previews so you fired off some of the photos you had taken on your phone. One was from Higgins reminding you to swing by HR on Monday to finalize your travel waivers. Two were from unknown numbers who identified themselves as Sam Obisanya and Colin Hughes. They both sent friendly texts welcoming you to the team and you made a mental note to figure out what their favorite dessert was so you could make it for their birthdays. You sent a thank you text to both of them and sent them each a photo with a dog in their jersey.

Stripping off your fur covered clothes, your first priority was to take a shower before curling up on the couch and editing these photos for your post tomorrow. The TV played in some low drone in the background, some kind of stupid reality dating show where hot people dated and fucked like rabbits. It was mind numbing and didn’t require thought and you liked having something playing in the background as you worked.

You had a few videos already on the Instagram story from today and you went to check the engagement. Swiping your finger along the screen, you were relieved to see thousands of views and shares. People loved puppies and they loved football. If you combined the two, it was gold. One of the videos of you getting tackled by some of the loveable dogs made it in and people were loving it. Rebecca even texted you with a, “LOVE! So cute!!” so you were feeling great about your work.

Verified accounts were bumped to the top and you recognized a few of the players names. Zoreaux, Jan Maas, and a few others had viewed the stories, along with a name you didn’t recognize. Jamie Tartt. Was he the guy from that one underwear model? Or was he the Givenchy ad? You looked up at your television screen. Oh, never mind. He was the reality TV show manwhore.

Exiting Richmond's account, you changed your Instagram over to yours. There was far less engagement, but your simple baking account didn’t appeal to as many people as a football league. You loved designing different desserts, trying out recipes, and balancing out flavor combinations. Combined with your love for photography and design, you had a pretty prolific home baking account. It was the account you showed Keeley as your portfolio and now she and Rebecca both followed you. Oddly enough, Higgins did too.

Your face was rarely in the photos because you ran a one-woman show, but occasionally a friend would snap a great candid. Most of your pictures were treats, flowers, cool spots around London, or whatever you found cool. You liked showing your personality through photos and you didn’t care if your face wasn’t in there. The memories were present and that’s what mattered.

A few new followers had joined the fray and you were surprised to see some of the Richmond players among them. It wasn’t like you hid the account, but it wasn’t something you advertised as your name. Keeley must have told them.

But then there was that name again. Jamie Tartt. Why would some footballer turned reality star care about your panna cotta fails and award-winning lemon bars? Why would a guy who isn’t even playing for Richmond want to follow you, the social media manager?

Fuck it. It was too late to question the motives of some stranger. He was just another follower. Another number for engagement profiles. Maybe he was just interested in your slutty brownie recipe. Whatever, you needed to sleep so you could get to the stadium tomorrow and get these photos out.

Tag list: @shiptheship​

[aetherdoesthings]

what pet each straw hat member would get

forethoughts: i went to a really cool pet shop. that's all. also, this is just my interpretation of what pets each straw hat member would get!

characters included: luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, robin

luffy would have a golden retriever. both are very high energy and loves to play around non stop. i feel like luffy would spend his entire day playing with a retriever (if he has not eaten it yet/tried to eat it) and chasing it around on the sunny. also, a retriever is very loyal, just like how luffy is to his crew.

zoro would have a border collie or a german shepard. both border collies and german shepards are disciplined, easy to train, and high energy to train with zoro and keep up with him. german shepards also have a very good sense of direction, which will 100% help zoro. i can see a border collie/german shepard curled up next to zoro as he naps on board (also that scene in skypiea where he drinks with a wolf is just 🤭)

nami would have a cat. maybe a siamese cat. the cat curls up near her desk (or on her lap) as she works on her maps, sleeping peacefully. that is, assuming the cat doesn't ruin her workstation by spilling ink over maps or messing the area. i feel like the elegance a siamese cat has would compliment nami's own sense of style, as well bringing that rich and sosphicated sense. nami would 100% buy cat clothes too.

usopp, hear me out, would have a ferret. a ferret's curious and mischievous nature aligns with his imaginative and playful personality, enhancing his storytelling to luffy and chopper, adding ambience or crawling up their backs for horror stories (idk spooky stuff?).

sanji would have a cat(s). perhaps an orange tabby to remind him of nami, or a russian blue for robin. he would keep them in the kitchen, making gourmet food for them and always treating them like princesses. he would also have them stay in the kitchen every night to keep watch of luffy sneaking in to steal food, consequently training them to scratch the living hell out of luffy if he tries to take any food.

robin would have a russian blue cat. her elegance and beauty matches the same as a russian blue; the two just align. robin would be reading in the library or studying poneglyphs, and the cat would be either curled up on her lap or somewhere near her asleep. robin would always shower the cat with affection and treats, and go out shopping with nami to buy clothes for their cats.

[blu3-ja3]

TIME TO MEET JUSTIN'S OC! ENJOY!

Roach has been doing well with raising Ripley, a 7 months old Border Collie mix breed. O'Connor found the mutt when she was only a few weeks old out in the rain near the entrance to the base. As soon as O'Connor walked into the rec room holding the little bundle in her arms Roach was attached to her hip. He followed every direction Doc gave to him until she was certain the puppy was healthy and warmed. No one had ever seen Roach so quiet, even when the sergeant had a rough day and chose to be mute, his hands would be flying, signing constantly in BSL. The boy was constantly moving, impossible to pin down.

O'Connor took the chance and gave Roach the small pup, instructing him how to care for the little one. And he did just that, there were weeks where Roach would walk around with a hoodie on backwards just so that little Ripley would be warm and close to the boy. And when Roach was sent on a mission he vetted every single private on base at the time, to make sure they were capable of watching his dog while he was gone. He somehow managed to convince Ghost to help him intimate the chosen private.

Soap was initially hesitant, the Scottish man didn't like dogs even if it was just a puppy. But Ripley managed to wiggle her way into Soap's heart. Gaz loves playing fetch with the pup once she was old enough to understand. Ghost on a few occasions was caught baby talking to the small dog and playful tapping the pup with his boot. O'Connor was happy that Roach has someone who has just as much energy as he did. She learned rather quickly a tired Roach was a safe Roach, the boy was much less likely to hurt himself if he was napping. Price was more than happy to allow Ripley to stay on base with Roach, she was wonderful for morale.

There was one small problem, the pup was growing up. Ripley wasn't formally trained and had no certification for Price to keep records of. So he and O'Connor got together and searched for someone to help Roach train Ripley. Price asked Laswell if she has any recommendations for either a K9 unit trainer, O'Connor was looking for a therapeutic animal specialist. Eventually both were found. They approached Roach and asked which he'd like for Ripley. It took Roach two days to ask for the therapy specialist.

'I don't want Rip to be hurt out on the field, I don't think it'd go well for anyone.' Roach signed to O'Connor and Price. A week later O'Conner introduced Samuel Gibson, the gentleman who'd be training Ripley.

Samuel was roughly the same age as Soap, and about the same height if a little short (5'4"). He had warm brown skin and tattoos from his neck down his arms and further, his right leg was a prosthetic. Sam had long curly black hair and bushie brows. He had deep chocolate brown eyes and a strong angular nose. He had a large swath of well kept stubble that framed his broad lips well. He had several ear piercings and a septum piercing. And Roach definitely didn't notice the tongue piercing that he caught glimpses of when Samuel spoke.

Soap and Gaz were quick to joke with Roach regarding his crush on the Australian man. Never directly around Sam because they're gentle men and would never throw their friend under the bus.

Roach's crush was evident to all who watched the pair work together with Ripley. The way Roach would just stare at Sam, how he blushes every time their hands would touch, how he'd stop everything he was doing to pay close attention to everything Sam said. Roach was generally a happy fellow but with Sam around it was almost like looking at the sun how brightly the boy beamed.

It helped that Ripley took to Sam's training wonderful. She was quick to learn and obey new every command Sam gave her.

It was only 2 months into Ripley's 2 years of training when Roach came to the team asking for advice. Gaz and Price were in a relationship currently and though Soap and Ghost had yet to make anything official it was a not so well kept secret amongst the 141. Roach was worried though, Sam is a civilian and it's very difficult to maintain a relationship as a soldier even with another soldier. They've all heard horror stories about soldiers coming home to partners who've cheated or just straight abandoned them. O'Connor was a very good example of such horror stories.

"Do you trust him?" O'Connor was the first to say anything after Roach ranted to them.

'Yes, he's sweet and kind, Rip loves him, you all seem to get along well with him... He makes me feel so bright !' Roach was squeaking while signing a slight blush peaking out from under his mask. 'He's learning BSL so he can teach Ripley to respond to them! He's wonderful but what if he doesn't swing that way?'

"You'll never know unless you ask Bug, be honest and open. And Roach, no matter what happens we're here for you." O'Connor smiles as the boy nods.

A few days later Roach approaches Sam with a small origami flower that Soap helped him make. The team was at a distance watching from different hiding places, Ghost had disappeared the closest to the duo but no one could find him. They watched as Roach spoke gesturing wildly with one hand, he left still behind his back. Once he was finished speaking he pulled the little oragmi flower from behind his back. Sam's hands gently took the flower before taking Roach's hand.

Everyone dispersed after that leaving them to have a more private moment once satisfied that nothing would happen to their boy. Roach would eventually rope everyone into helping him set up a date on base. But as a surprise to Roach the team set up an evening out on the town.

O'Connor sat up dinner reservations at a local restaurant, giving her bank information so they could order what they please. Soap sat up an evening stroll through the local botany and aviary house after hours. Price approved the full day off and gave Gaz his card to take Roach to get a new outfit to wear for the evenings out. Ghost was their escort for the night (he was the only one Price trusted with his car).

Roach hugged all of them once he met back up with them at a local pub after the date, Sam hanging on his arm when they first entered. The two kept the night going by drinking and chatting in the back booth.

After Ripley is officially certified as a therapy dog, the 141 still sees Sam. At events where civilians are allowed on base like birthdays, holidays, and visitation day. When Price lets them go off base Sam appears with his little Corgi; Boogs, so their dogs can play together while they go out to whatever date they're on. Anytime the 141 has to leave for missions Ripley went to Sam's care.

COD Master List

[stardustshelb]

"Strawberry" Part One

Word count: 6,749

Chapter One

“Are you sure you can’t drive me to the airport in the morning?” I asked Kenneth wearily. I knew he was reluctant to allow me to go to Nashville for Riley’s bachelorette weekend. He says he’s worried about my safety, but I know the truth is that he doesn’t want me to go out without him, especially with a group of girls.

He groaned, “I have to be at work by 8 a.m. and your flight leaves at noon. I’m not sure if you know how time works but–”

“My plane leaves at 2 p.m. I have to be there by noon,” I interjected before he finished his insult.

“Whatever. Either way, I can’t swing it. Just drive yourself or get one of your friends to give you a ride,” he said as he shut the bathroom door in my face.

He knows good and well that Riley and our other friends live hours away in other states. Everyone got out of this town the second we graduated college. Well, everyone except me. Kenneth took over his father’s business so I stayed behind too. I don’t resent him for it; I love my small town. I love that my family is no more than 15 minutes away in every direction. I love my job and my students. I love my  simple two-bedroom home where I spend most of my evenings alone with Sassy, my border collie. I love my comfortable life. But I hate that my best friend since middle school took a marketing job that required her to move 738 miles away from me.

Life sometimes gets lonely when your closest friends are your coworkers who are old enough to be your parents. Finding a teaching job in this small town was easy because I went to school here. My classroom is the same classroom I once sat in to learn 9th grade English; now I am on the other side of the desk.

When Riley asked me to be her maid of honor, I cried tears of joy… and jealousy. Kenneth and I have been together since we were 16 years old. Although we celebrated our 10-year-anniversary in August, we were quickly approaching the two-year-anniversary of our engagement. Riley met her fiancé less than a year ago; yet, I am the one putting on a bridesmaid dress before a wedding dress. 

“Can you turn off the light?” Kenneth’s question snapped me back to reality. I looked at the piles of folded laundry on my side of the bed with my barren suitcase next to them.

“I’m still packing,” I said.

“Well, some of us don’t get to go to Nashville. Some of us have to go to work to help fund a trip we don’t even get to go on,” he responded.

Ouch. Yes, it’s true Kenneth is the breadwinner. His father’s business is lucrative and Kenneth does well for us. He has asked me to quit my job time and time again since he can support us financially. Everyone knows a teacher’s salary isn’t much to brag about, but I still feel pride in bringing home a paycheck every month. I love my job too much to quit. It’s already lonely in the evenings; I can’t imagine staying home all day by myself too. 

“You know I booked the cheapest flights I could find. Everyone else is flying in together and I am arriving a day early because tomorrow’s flights were more expensive than–”

“Turn off the light!” Kenneth snapped.

I collected my laundry piles and tossed them into my suitcase before shoving it to the floor. I guess I will have to finish packing in the morning after he leaves for work. I put my phone on the charger, turned off the light, and climbed into bed. Sassy jumped into bed to sleep by my feet, our nightly routine. She has always been my protector. I am going to miss her so much while I am gone, but I am looking forward to this miniature vacation. I haven’t had a trip to look forward to since my senior year of college. Kenneth is always too busy with work for us to have a vacation together. He doesn’t like to fly but he also gets car sick. If anywhere I wanted to go required more than two hours on the road, count him out. Plus it will be nice to see Riley again. I shut my eyes and tried my best to fall asleep. I am used to going to bed angry. Anger is like melatonin to me at this point. But the excitement and longing kept me awake. I pulled my headphones out of my nightstand and connected them to my phone. I scrolled through my Spotify playlists until I found one to soothe me to sleep. I selected “Boyfriends” by Harry Styles and the irony wasn’t lost on me as I drifted off…

Chapter Two

I collected the parking ticket from the machine as I drove into the airport’s economy lot. I found a spot closest to the entrance, but I knew I was still going to have to walk a billion miles. The economy lot is furthest from the airport but it’s the most affordable option. I wanted to save every dollar I had for this trip, so I figured it was a small sacrifice. I parked and started to collect my things from the trunk of my car. I grabbed my carryon suitcase and hung my purse on its handle before I started my trek to the airport. Anxiously double-checking every item on my pack-list in my head, I walked through the double doors of the airport. I made my way up to security and got in line behind what seemed to look like the entire population of my town. Luckily, the line moved fairly quickly as I approached the TSA agent’s desk. I placed my luggage on the conveyor belt, removed my sandals, and emptied my pockets. 

The large woman in the TSA uniform waved me through the body scanner. “Come on through, sweetie.”

I stood on the yellow marker and held my hands above my head. I knew I had nothing on me that would set off any alarm, but this moment always made me hold my breath. 

“You’re good, sweetie. Have a good day,” she smiled as I breathed a sigh of relief. I collected my things and scurried off to the side to put my shoes back on. When I grabbed my phone from the security tub, I noticed that I had two missed calls from Kenneth. 

I called him back as I tried to make my way through the crowd, pulling my luggage behind me. He answered on the first ring. 

“Why didn’t you answer my calls?” he asked with a bit of anger in his tone. 

“I was going through security. I couldn’t be on my phone,” I explained.

“Well, I only have so long of a lunch break and I wanted to check in before you got on your flight. What time are you set to land again?” he asked.

“3:30 p.m. for the hundredth time,” I sighed.

“Ok, you need to text me as soon as you land,” he commanded.

“Sure thing,” I replied.

“Alright, well I’m gonna get back to work,” Kenneth said.

“Hey, don’t forget to give Sassy a treat after she goes outside because that’s what she’s used to. Oh, and don’t forget that she likes to have dinner at–”

“I’ve owned the damn dog just as long as you have. You don’t have to give me instructions,” Kenneth cut me off.

“Can you send me pictures of her throughout the day? I’m really going to miss her,” I pleaded.

“You’re going to miss the dog more than me,” Kenneth scoffed.

I thought about that comment for a moment as I approached my gate. I glanced over the TV screen to verify my boarding time. 

“Wow, you don’t even deny it,” Kenneth said.

“I’m sorry. I got distracted by my gate. It’s really busy here. I will text you when I land. Please send me pictures of Sassy. I will keep you posted. I love you,” I nearly lied into the phone.

“Love you too,” he said halfheartedly before ending the call. 

While pulling my belongings behind me, I found a spot to sit down in the waiting area of my gate. The airport seemed to be a madhouse, but it looked like my flight wouldn’t be so crowded after all. There were more empty seats than I expected. I checked the “Nashville Babes” group text on my phone. I’ve had the notifications silenced for weeks because I can’t stand getting notified every 10 minutes. I asked Riley to text me separately if there was anything I really needed to know. I hate that I appear to be an unsupportive maid of honor, but seeing my phone light up constantly throughout the day–and night–has been a nightmare for my anxiety. Riley knows and understands that I get overwhelmed easily. She took charge of planning her own bachelorette weekend because she knew I would get stressed out. I still feel guilty about it, but she assured me that she truly wanted to plan it. I wasn’t going to argue. She’s always been the most supportive and constant person in my life. I hate that I am secretly jealous of her when I should be reciprocating the support. 

“Now boarding Group A!” the airline attendant announced over the gate’s speaker. I checked my boarding pass: Group C. Once again, I took the most affordable option on the cheapest flight I could find. Being last to board on Southwest meant that I am doomed to a middle seat between two strangers. I just hope that whomever I get stuck between put on deodorant today. When I say I’m looking forward to a vacation, I mean I am looking forward to a break from 15-year-olds’ body odor. One of the many drawbacks of being a teacher. 

“Excuse me,” a man in a white sweater and khaki pants said as he tried to shuffle by me. I thought he looked funny wearing both a baseball hat and sunglasses indoors. That doesn’t look suspicious in an airport. I moved my things from his path and he headed to board the plane. So he’s in Group A… This guy has money. Well, maybe not. He is flying Southwest after all. I’m sure I could have booked Group A tickets, but I didn’t want to ask Kenneth for any more money than I already needed. This trip was fully funded by me and I was proud of that. Well, until Riley picked the most expensive Airbnb in Nashville. I almost fainted when I received her Venmo request. I was grateful she didn’t charge me extra for staying one night by myself since I had an earlier flight. I swallowed my pride and asked Kenneth if I could have an extra $400 to add to my savings to help with my portion of the bill. He gave me the money with no issues, but he has enjoyed holding it above my head every chance he’s had.

Once I heard the announcement for Group C, I grabbed my things and headed to stand in line to board. I glanced at the Nashville Babes group text: 80 missed notifications. I cleared it from my phone as I opened the Southwest app to show my boarding pass. Once I was scanned in, I headed through the hallway to board the plane. I stepped on the aircraft and gazed over the heads of strangers who were all avoiding eye contact. I knew they were all pleading to themselves that I wouldn’t take their middle seat. The flight wasn’t too packed, but there were no empty window or aisle seats left. Wonderful. I scanned the rows once more looking for any open overhead space when I noticed someone’s eyes locked on me. Eyes that I hadn’t seen before; yet, a face that looked all too familiar. The Group A stranger had removed his sunglasses and was staring at me. I started to move down the aisle when he whispered to the guy in the row with him. Whoever he was, he looked angry receiving whatever news he just got. No chance I want to sit between a bickering couple. I located a row nearby filled with two women who looked rather normal. I went to lift my luggage to put in the overhead space when the Group A stranger grabbed my suitcase.

“Allow me,” he said with a smile that displayed the tiniest of gaps between his unusually white teeth. But rather than placing the suitcase in the compartment I had decided on, he placed it in the compartment above his row. 

“Would you prefer the window seat or the aisle seat?” he asked.

“What happened to the man who was sitting with you?” I answered his question with a question.

“I asked him to sit elsewhere. I figured you’d prefer a better spot,” he smiled that smile again.

Bewildered, I responded: “I’ll take the aisle.” No way would I be confined to the window seat with this strange man trapping me in. I needed an escape route in case he was a pervert or something. 

“Perfect. I love to watch the clouds anyways,” he said as he shuffled into the row. I followed suit but sat to keep an empty seat between us. 

“Why didn’t your friend just sit in the middle if you wanted to give me a good seat?” I asked confusingly.

“That’s my–um–assistant. He can stand to sit elsewhere for the short flight since I see him all of the time. I’d prefer to sit next to someone more pleasant anyways,” he joked. 

God he’s adorable. A little too forward but adorable nonetheless.

“Well, I appreciate you doing that for me. I figured I was going to have to sit between two strangers, but an aisle seat is definitely a welcomed surprise,” I said.

I opened my phone to inform the Nashville Babes that I had boarded and would be landing in roughly an hour and a half. I completely ignored the hundreds of messages that came before mine. I was about to put my phone on airplane mode when I received a private text from Riley.

Riley: “You ok?”

Me: “Yes, of course. I’m so excited to see you! Get ready to lose oxygen from my hug when I see you tomorrow.” 

Riley: “Just checking. Haven’t heard from you in a couple days. Let me know when you land and when you make it to the Airbnb. Safe travels, love.” 

I sighed as I read her message over and over. I smiled and held the message down to “love” it before searching through my purse to retrieve my headphones. 

“Already getting the music out and we haven’t even heard the safety instructions yet. I think you need to pay attention,” I heard the adorable stranger say.

“There isn’t much I can do if there were an emergency. Knowing that I need to breathe oxygen through a mask that will drop in front of my face is all I need to know,” I said with a laugh.

“Just make sure to put your own mask on before you help me with mine,” he said.

“Who says I would help you?” I turned to him and asked.

“I helped you with your luggage. I helped you get an aisle seat. The least you can do is help me breathe,” he said with a smile that displayed his perfect teeth again.

I laughed and replied, “Ok, well I am not banking on there being an emergency, so no need to worry.”  

“Does anyone ever bank on an emergency?” he asked. Smart ass.

I rolled my eyes and placed my headphones in my ears. I opened my Spotify app to find the playlist I downloaded to prepare for the flight.

“Who are you listening to?” the stranger asked. I am beginning to wish I had sat between the two women after all. Not having to play 20 questions with this guy would have been worth sacrificing the extra space I had in this aisle seat.

“Nobody yet as I literally just opened the app,” I responded.

“Can I give you a song suggestion?” he asked.

“Um… I guess?” I replied questioningly.

“May I?” he asked as he reached for my phone.

“I’m not giving a stranger my phone,” I said with a shocked expression to my tone. The nerve of this guy.

“What am I going to do? Run off with it? You’ve got me trapped in,” he smiled showing that cute, tiny gap again. 

“No thanks,” I said as I went to start my music. 

Suddenly, he unbuckled his seat belt and stood up from his seat. I stared at him wide-eyed as a flight attendant stopped by our row to say, “Sir, please stay seated and buckle your seat belt.” 

He waved to the irritated attendant and displayed a soft smile as he sat in the middle seat beside me. Immediately I was hit with his fresh cologne scent that made me crave more as he started to buckle the seat belt. You have got to be kidding me.

“What are you doing?” I somehow yelled and whispered simultaneously.

“Please let me pick a song for you to listen to. Then I will leave you alone. I promise,” he said with a slight pout to his lips. God, his lips. How did I not notice those yet?

“Give me your phone in exchange,” I said with an air of confidence in my voice.

“Ah, so she’s smart and she’s beautiful,” he said as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants. I tried to hide the blush that I could feel warming my cheeks. I couldn’t remember the last time I received a compliment.

“I’m not unlocking it, but I will let you hold it for ransom,” he said as he held his phone out to me. I took it from his hands as his fingers brushed against mine. I felt an immediate rush of energy run through me as our hands briefly touched. What was that? I handed him my phone and watched as he typed the words “Greta Van Fleet” into the search bar in my Spotify app. He made a face that almost seemed disappointed, and then clicked  to download the band’s complete playlist. He attempted to hand my phone back to me, and I stared at him confusingly as I reached for it. I was too busy watching him with my phone; I never even glanced at his lockscreen. Before I gave him back his phone, I tapped the screen to see what his background was. On display was a photo of a crowd of lights, but the photographer must have been standing on the stage when they took it. There had to be thousands of phone flashlights in this one photo. It reminded me of tiny stars in the midnight sky. 

“I took that picture, ya know?” he said with a proud smile.

“Are you a concert photographer?” I asked. 

He let out a wild laugh and then glanced down at my phone’s screen, “It’s almost finished downloading.”

“I thought you said a song suggestion. A. One. Singular. Not a whole playlist,” I said.

“I mean… I wanted to give you options,” he said.

Waving his phone to him I asked, “So, is this crowd picture from this band’s concert?”

“Yes,” he said, like there was more he was wanting me to ask. I decided to have the upperhand and gave him his phone back without asking another question. I watched my screen as the playlist was nearly completely downloaded. 

“I’m Josh,” he said like he was annoyed that I hadn’t asked for his name yet.

“Hi, Josh,” I replied disinterestedly. 

“And you are…?” he asked.

“I’m about to listen to this playlist,” I said with a matter-of-fact tone.

“Smart, beautiful, arrogant…” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that,” I said as I put my headphones in. “You can move back to the window now.”

“We are about to take off. If I stand up, I’ll cause a scene and then we’ll be delayed. Then I’ll probably become a flight risk and be forcibly removed off of the plane. Everyone would be recording the fiasco and posting it online. Let’s just avoid all of that and I’ll stay seated here,” he said with a smirk.

“You have quite the imagination…” I said hiding my smile.

“I’m sacrificing a coveted window seat for you. I hope you know that,” he replied.

“I never asked you to change seats,” I said.

“No, but you didn’t object either,” he responded with a smug expression on his face.

Once the playlist completed its download, I switched my phone to airplane mode. I sighed in frustration and scrolled through the playlist to view the songs. Whoever this band is, they have quite a discography. I wanted to ask him which song I should start with but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. I scrolled until the title “Trip the Light Fantastic” caught my eye. Intrigued, I selected the song and tilted my head back to listen to it. Before I shut my eyes, I noticed Josh was staring at my phone to see which song I chose first. I closed my eyes and relaxed as the lyrics danced through my ears. I have never heard anything like this before. I was so entranced in the music that I didn't even realize we were now speeding down the runway about to take off. The music, plus the feeling of lifting off the ground, was nearly overwhelming in the best way possible. I felt like I had stepped into the song itself. When the song ended, I didn’t want to open my eyes. I wanted to stay in this moment for as long as possible. 

“What did you think?” I heard Josh ask as I removed my headphones.

“Wow,” is all I could formulate. My thoughts ran wild and I wanted to describe the feeling I just had, but I couldn’t put it into words. 

“What did you think about the guy’s voice?” he asked.

“The dude is talented as hell. I just wish I could understand everything he sang,” I said.

There was that wild laugh of his again. “Yeah, I think the band receives that criticism a lot,” he said with a shrug. I truly wanted to listen to another song, but I didn’t want him to know I was so interested in this band. I guess one could call me stubborn. 

“While I love to share music with new people, I’d love to talk some more if that’s alright with you,” he said sheepishly.

“I feel like you would talk to me even if it weren’t alright with me,” I said sarcastically.

“Smart, beautiful, arrogant,” he repeated. I playfully pinched his arm. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed as he rubbed his arm.

“I let it slide the first time. I wasn’t going to let you get away with it again,” I said.

“Now that I’ve been physically assaulted… Are you going to Nashville for business or pleasure?” he asked.

“I’m attending a bachelorette party,” I said.

“For you or someone else?” he asked, looking down at the dainty ring on my finger. The same ring that has been without a wedding band companion for nearly two years. The same ring I wanted to leave inside the jewelry box before I left my house this morning.

“It’s for my best friend Riley,” I said with a sadness that I couldn’t hide like I normally do.

As if Josh sensed the change in my mood, he completely turned his body to face mine. I could tell that he positioned his head to get me to look at him. I locked eyes with him and it was like I could actually see the wheels in his head turning. 

“How long will you be in Nashville?” he asked.

“For four nights. I had to take two days off from work, but I’m looking forward to it,” I said with a forced smile.

“You don’t sound like someone who is excited to attend a bachelorette party,” he said.

“It’s just a lot, but I am excited for Riley,” I said trying to convince the both of us that I really was excited.

“What do you do for work?” he asked while continuing to hold eye contact. As I stared into his dark brown eyes, I studied the long lashes that I would kill to have. 

“I teach 9th grade English,” I responded.

“Smart, beautiful, arrogant, and a world changer. A difference maker. One who shapes the minds of our youth. You’re a hero to our doomed society,” he said. I felt my cheeks redden as I processed the way he just described my job. I don’t normally feel appreciated at work, not even at home. It felt good to have someone remind me of my purpose. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m just a glorified babysitter,” I said with a nervous laugh.

“You should never feel that way. I think you have one of the most important jobs in the world. I’m just a concert photographer,” he said with a tone that I couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” I said, finally giving into a real smile. I watched his eyes fall to my mouth and I could feel a million butterflies in my stomach. Why does he have such an effect on me? I shook the thoughts from my head as I opened the Southwest app to see how much longer our flight had. A little over one hour to go with a stranger who makes me feel better about myself than anyone has in years. Maybe I should take a nap.

“What’s on the agenda for your bachelorette weekend? Bars and strippers?” he asked with a smile.

“Definitely the strippers. That’s a necessity,” I responded with a smirk.

“Well, when I’m not taking pictures at concerts, I happen to moonlight as an exotic dancer,” he said returning the smirk I gave.

“I’m sure you make more money taking pictures,” I said biting my lip.

“First you physically assaulted me and now you’ve verbally assaulted me,” he said. 

“I’m sorry,” I said, covering my face from the embarrassment of inadvertently insulting him.

“No, you’re right. The crowd usually pays me to keep my clothes on,” he said tilting his head down in shame. Unlikely.

“What’s your stripper name?” I asked. Before he could answer, the plane suddenly dropped in altitude. I heard screams from the rows behind us. I gasped and grabbed his hand before shutting my eyes. The turbulence was over quickly as everyone seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at the same time. I slowly opened my eyes to realize everything was ok. I didn’t realize I was still holding Josh’s hand until he asked, “Are you ok?”

“Yes, sorry about that,” I said as I quickly jerked my hand back to my lap.

“No need to apologize for the hand-holding. It was nice while it lasted,” he said with a wink.

“Who was the first person to cross your mind when you felt the plane drop?” I asked him in a serious tone.

Without hesitation, he responded, “My mom.”

“Tell me about her,” I said.

“She’s the most important person on the planet,” he said looking at his hands. “She has given up so much for me and I hope I make her proud.”

“I’m sure you do,” I said while trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I’m not sure if my nerves were shot from the temporary panic or if his sentiment was getting to me. 

“Who did you think of?” he asked.

“Honestly… I thought of myself,” I admitted with shame.

“Really? Elaborate on that,” he said as I could tell he was giving me his full attention.

“I’m sure I sound narcissistic, but I thought I was about to die without having lived, and then I’d leave a legacy of nothing behind,” I said with a sigh.

“I know I don’t know you. Shit, I don’t even know your name. But, I can tell that your death would most definitely leave an impact on people,” he said.

“Nothing like discussing death with a total stranger,” I said with a light laugh.

“Death doesn’t scare me. I know it’s not the end. I just enjoy my life and the love I can give to the world while I’m here in my physical form. The love I provide won’t leave when I fade away,” he said. I stared at him like I just heard one of the most philosophical phrases come from another person’s mouth in years. He’s insightful and adorable.

“I got that from a song, by the way. It’s on the playlist I downloaded to your phone. Don’t be too impressed,” he said with a laugh.

“Ah, plagiarism,” I said.

“That’s actually my stripper name,” he said with a smirk. 

“Now I definitely know you aren’t making any money,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“How about I give you a glimpse of my routine and you tell me what I can do to improve my shtick to make more money?” he asked.

Stunned by his foreward remark, I immediately felt guilt running through my veins. This is the most flirting I’ve had since high school. I’m not used to this sort of attention. I looked down at my hands in my lap. 

“I’m sorry if that was too much. I–” Josh began to say.

“No, no it’s ok. I was just worried I wouldn’t have enough money in my purse to get you to keep your clothes on once you started,” I said stifling a giggle. 

“Alright just kick a man while he’s down,” he said as he clutched his hands over his heart. He threw his head back acting like he was wounded and I eyed his neck. His adam’s apple protruded, making me feel weak. 

“I wonder if there is a doctor on board to help you,” I said sarcastically looking around the plane.

Suddenly he rose out of his seat and shouted, “Is there a doctor in the house?”

Completely stunned, I stared at him with wide eyes. I cannot believe he just did that. I watched a flight attendant quickly make his way over to our row. Oh my God.

“Sir, are you having a medical emergency?” the flight attendant asked him. Next to the attendant stood Josh’s assistant, the angry man who changed his seat earlier. 

“No, no, I am ok now. Sorry for the alarm,” he said, trying not to laugh. His assistant rolled his eyes and quickly returned back to his middle seat. I’m sure he is used to Josh’s antics by now. The flight attendant gave a displeased look to both of us before walking away. I felt like I had just received punishment for a crime I didn’t do. Guilty by association. 

“That was so not funny!” I exclaimed with a sigh.

“I can’t help myself sometimes,” he said with a smile. This dude is nuts.

“You’re a lunatic,” I said, getting my headphones back out.

“No, wait. I am sorry,” he said. “I’ll move back over to the window seat and leave you alone,” he said with a sense of shame in his voice. I put my headphones in as I watched him change seats then position his body to where he was looking out the window. I was no longer in his line of vision. I opened my Spotify app and his Greta Van Fleet playlist was there. I hesitated. I wanted to listen to another song but I also wanted to block this guy from my mind and listen to my own music. Against my better judgment, I selected “Light My Love” from the playlist. I closed my eyes and listened to one of the most beautiful songs I had ever heard.

Chapter Three

I was six songs deep into this playlist when I felt someone tap on my arm. I reluctantly opened my eyes for I was enjoying being in a complete and utter trance of this band. Josh looked sheepish as I removed my headphones. 

“Do you care to let me out to use the bathroom? I really need to stretch my legs,” he said. Without responding, I shifted my body and moved my legs into the aisle to give him a clear walkway. He shuffled past me and I got a whiff of his cologne again. He smells so damn good. Maybe I’m being irrational for giving him the silent treatment. I’m 26-years-old but I’m acting like I’m 12. I decided to act more civil once he returned to our row. I don’t want to look too anxious, but I couldn’t help but watch the bathroom door awaiting his return. After what felt like an eternity, I decided to do something irrational. I can be crazy too. I took my headphones off and left them in the seat as I shoved my phone in my jeans pocket. I stood up and started to make my way to the bathroom to check on him. As I got closer to the door, it opened and he exited. I wanted to retreat back to my seat from pure embarrassment, but there was nowhere to turn. He looked up at me and scrunched his eyebrows together like he was confused. As he should be. I decided to try to play it off that I needed to use the restroom rather than run back to my seat like I desperately wanted to. As he moved past me, his body brushed against mine and I felt every nerve from my toes to my scalp tingle. I felt like I could no longer breathe. I made my way into the tiny bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. “Get it together,” I said aloud to my reflection. I took a few deep breaths and made my way back to my seat. I made the mistake of looking at him because his deep brown eyes were once again locked on mine. A shiver immediately ran through me. I sat back down in my aisle seat and tried to think of something to ease the awkward tension.

“What has been your favorite song off the playlist?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“That’s difficult to say. I have genuinely loved all of the ones I’ve listened to so far,” I said with a smile. His cheeks almost looked like they were a new shade of pink. Was he blushing? I quickly added, “Thank you for sharing this band with me.”

“Thank you for listening,” he said back with a smile. I bit my lip as I felt like the awkward tension was over. However, a new tension was forming. 

I checked the Southwest app and realized we were set to land very soon. I put my headphones back in my purse as a sign that I was ready to talk to him. He picked up on my cue because he quickly switched seats again. His cologne hit me and if I hadn’t been sitting, I may have collapsed. He buckled his seat belt just before the overhead light signaled us to do so. 

“What’s the first thing you and your friends are doing tonight?” he asked.

“Actually, I am flying in a day earlier than everyone, so I have the Airbnb alone until everyone flies in tomorrow,” I said. I suddenly realized that I shouldn’t have told a stranger that I was going to be staying alone in an unfamiliar city, but the words had already left my lips. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Really?” he said as he sat up straight in his seat. I nodded but then looked away. I can’t believe I just overshared this information with him.

“If you’d like some company…” he said quietly. I quickly turned my head back to him. I was dreading another night by myself, especially without Sassy. Riley said I could FaceTime her tonight, but I didn’t want to bother her while she finished packing and getting her stuff together. I was going to use the time to decorate the place before her arrival anyways. 

I stammered, “Josh, I–” 

“How about dinner? I can take you to some of my favorite places in town. What do you like to eat?” he asked with a big smile. The idea of not being alone was tempting and as frustrating as he had been at times, I really did enjoy his company. 

Before I could give him an answer, I felt our plane touch the ground as we braced for a complete stop. This was always my least favorite part about flying. 

“I really need to decorate the Airbnb and unpack. I’d like to get settled in rather than go out. Plus, I don’t have a vehicle,” I finally responded as the sounds of seat belts unbuckled around us.

“If it’s not too forward, I could always come over and cook for you. I can bring some groceries and wine, or whatever else you’d like to drink. I can even help you decorate. You can’t spend your first night in Nashville alone,” he said. 

I mulled over his offer as people around us began to stand up and form a line in the center aisle as they collected their luggage from the overhead compartments. Josh appeared not to be in any hurry to leave, nor was I. 

“Fine. But I want to text your full name, picture, vehicle description, and phone number to Riley in case I go missing,” I said with a matter-of-fact tone.

He laughed nervously and then said, “Give me your phone.” I put in my passcode and handed it to him. He stared at my background, a picture of Sassy and me, before opening the contacts app. “I’m giving you my number so you can text me your address when you’re ready for me to come over to cook you dinner,” he said as he was typing. I watched the plane empty row by row until it felt like we were the last two remaining on board. I noticed his assistant standing in the aisle waiting on Josh. “I think you’re going to get an earful when you get off the plane,” I said, eyeing the angry-looking man. 

“I usually do,” he said with a smile as he passed my phone back to me. I glanced down at the contact name that read Plagiarism with the winky face emoji. I covered my mouth as I laughed loudly. 

“Ahem,” we both heard his assistant clear his throat as he began tapping his foot impatiently.

“Ok, I think it’s time to go,” I said as I grabbed my purse and stepped into the aisle to let him out. While Josh exited his seat, he stood so close that I could smell his delicious scent again. I watched him open the compartment and get our luggage out. He lifted the handle of my suitcase and handed it to me. I smiled at his kindness, avoiding eye contact, because I had about all that I could stand.

We made our way down the center aisle following his assistant off of the plane. Before he stepped inside the airport, I watched as he put his sunglasses back on. Weird. 

“I’ll be anxiously waiting for your text,” he said to me as he pulled his hat down a little further over his face. Before he walked away, he said, “I’ll send you all of the info you need for Riley when I hear from you,” with a wink.

I made my way down to ground transportation and requested an Uber to take me to the Airbnb. I sent Kenneth a text to let him know that I had landed, but I texted Riley that I was going to call her ASAP. I needed her advice now more than ever. I knew I was treading in dangerous waters by allowing that adorable, frustrating, sexy, funny, crazy stranger to come over, but something made me want to be around him. I may be in too deep, but I’ve always been a strong swimmer.

[stay-mon-army]

Lost Dog Meet Cute

Word Count: 2,192 words

Pairing: Jay (Enhypen) x fem!reader/OC (written from Jays' POV, no name used)

Warning(s): lost dog, jokes of someone killing someone for losing their dog

“I can’t believe you let her leash go.” Sunoo shakes his head, his mouth open as he looks at Ni-Ki, who stands with his hands on his hips, looking around as though the run-away dog will simply reappear magically.

“I didn’t let her leash go, you pushed me and I dropped it.” Ni-Ki stresses, pointing a finger at Sunoo, which he promptly swipes at. Sunoo makes a face at Ni-Ki before turning away, also searching for the cream border collie that had raced into the mass of people milling around Han River about a minute ago.

The dog in question wasn’t even either of theirs, it was their best friend Jake’s dog. Well, to be more exact, it was his family’s dog – they were visiting Jake on holiday here in Korea from Australia and had brought the dog, who had missed Jake the most. However, one of the excursions that Jake wanted to take his parents on was unfortunately not dog-friendly, meaning he would have to leave the dog at his apartment until they returned. In the hopes of keeping Layla from wrecking any havoc, and from leaving presents all over Jake’s floor on his return, he asked his friends if they would be willing to take Layla on a walk around mid-day. Being a border collie, she needed the exercise, he said, and really she wouldn’t be too much trouble because of how well-trained she was.

The only problem with the plan was that he asked two of the worst friends, as neither of them had ever had to deal with a dog as lively as Layla before. She was spunky and friendly, and ran up to EVERYTHING within the length of her leash. Sunoo and Ni-Ki also had a tendency to bicker. In the midst of a typical bicker session, somehow the leash slipped from Ni-Ki’s hand, allowing the lively dog the chance to run free as far as she desired. Which apparently, was out of eye shot of either of the boys now standing dogless in the middle of the lawn of the Han River.

“Well, what do we do now, genius? Just stand here staring until she finds her way back, or worse, gets hit by a car? Come on, we have to start looking for her!” Sunoo grumbles, crossing his arms and starting to stalk off in the direction he thinks Layla disappeared in.

“Hold on, I’m going to call the guys. Maybe they can help look.” Ni-Ki calls, pulling his phone from his pocket. Sunoo spins around his arms straightening at his sides quickly.

“Don’t tell Jake.”

“I won’t! Jesus.” Ni-Ki shakes his head again at the boy before him, making a face, before lifting his phone to his ear, making his first call of the afternoon.

~~~~~

Less than an hour later, Ni-Ki has enlisted the help of their four other friends, who have spread out in the general area of the Han River that Layla was last seen. They split up and decided to search individually, in the hopes of finding her before she’s dog-napped, or worse.

One such friend, Jay, is more than a little rumpled from the flight over here. Ni-Ki hadn’t told him what the emergency was when he called, only that Jay needed to get to him and Sunoo ASAP. Needless to say, Jay had ran straight out of his senior seminar class, heading for them as quickly as possible, resulting in a very wind-swept, wrinkled, untucked mess of a look. Jay couldn’t fully blame the two though; if they didn’t find Layla before Jake came home, they might be at risk of loss of life. That dog was everything to Jake.

Jay looked under bushes, behind trees, at every passing couple, just trying to find that damn dog so he could go apologize profusely to his professor and hopefully save his attendance grade. He’d worked so hard to have good attendance this semester; he was going to be pissed off if this dropped his grade any more than a point or two.

Jay stops in his tracks then, looking closer at the young girl sitting with a dog that looks oddly like Layla. She’s sitting cross-legged on her picnic blanket, book beside her abandoned as she rakes her fingers through the dogs fur, scratching her nails against the dog, whose tail is wagging a million miles an hour. She leans forward, pressing her face into the dog’s neck. The dog turns to lick against her cheek, making the girl pull back to laugh, her mouth split into the most breathtaking smile.

Jay can’t take his eyes off the way her eyes light up as she tries to keep her face away from the assault of licks the dog is attempting on her nose. He finds his lips turning up at the sound of her raucous laughter, out of place in the otherwise quiet and serene park. The dog yaps loudly and the girl yaps back jokingly, making the dog pull back, stretching down in a playful stance like it’s about to pounce on her.

Jay shakes himself out of his trance, blinking away to look at the river quickly. God, was he a psychopath? Staring at some stranger in the park, he was going to get himself slapped or arrested for stalking if he kept that up. What was he thinking?

But then he pauses, turning back to the girl, or more specifically the dog. The leash around its neck is bright purple with silver paw prints scattered along its length. Exactly like the leash that Ni-Ki said Layla was wearing when she managed to break out of his grip.

There’s no way. He thinks to himself. Watching the two together, it’s clear that they’re dog and owner. No one would be that carefree and friendly to a dog they didn’t know, surely. Plus, the leash was a popular brand in Korea, every pet store sold them.

But cream border collies weren’t popular in Korea last he checked. Because of the size of apartments and lack of personal lawns, most people kept small dogs. He decided to just go up and ask. What was the worst that could happen, she says it’s her dog?

As he steps forward, he sees her grab the dog by the collar, reaching down to grasp the dog tags dangling there. Owners wouldn’t normally do that…

Then, the thing that solidifies that this dog is their missing pooch.

“Layla? What a pretty name. Let’s find your parents, huh, Layla?” With another scratch to the top of the head.

“Hey, excuse me!” Jay calls out, raising a hand as the girl turns. He jogs the last little way over to her, stopping a comfortable distance from the edge of her blanket. “I’m so sorry, but I think that’s my friends dog. We’ve been looking all over the park for it.”

He’s sure that his cheeks are flushed pink at the way she’s looking up at him from the ground, her eyes boring holes through to his soul. It was like she could read if he was lying through just one look. Of course, he wasn’t lying, but that didn’t make him any less nervous.

The girl hums, her eyes sweeping Jay, from his face to his feet and back. Her eyes squint and her lip quirks up for a second at the corner, before straightening back out in a look of obvious uncertainty.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth? I can’t just give away this precious girl to someone claiming to know the owner.” She looks around as if she would even know what Jake looks like if he was here. “Why don’t you go get your friend and he’ll confirm that it’s his dog?”

Jay tenses, looking around the park as well.

“Um, well you see, my friend doesn’t know that we lost Layla…” He starts, but then quickly looks back at the girl, who has one eyebrow quirked now. “Well, I mean, I didn’t lose Layla, our other friends did. Jake is out with his family and asked Ni-Ki and Sunoo to take Layla on a walk, which was really his first mistake because those two can’t be left alone together on most days, so of course they started bickering and Ni-Ki let go of her leash and then she ran off because she was probably tired of all their fighting, but they called us to help look because they didn’t want Jake to fi-”

The beautiful girl before him starts up that raucous laughter again, throwing her head back, her hand against her check, her hair caught in the wind. She looked like a dream and Jay pauses mid-sentence, forgetting what he was saying anyway because wow she was like a nymph, like something mystical, straight out of an ancient legend. She was smooth and charming and so natural, as though she was the most real, connected person to this world and Jay’s heart nearly stops as he traces the lines of her face with his eyes.

Forget the dog, he needs to know all he can about her.

“How about this,” she starts, when she finally gets her breathing under control, “I’m going to call the number on her collar. If the person who answers says they know you, you can take the dog?” She’s smiling up at him and he notices the faintest hint of glitter on her lips, as though she had on lipstick that has since worn off.

He nods, afraid of what he’ll say if he dares open his mouth, and watches as she pulls out her phone and dials his friends number.

He no longer cares if Jake finds out about Layla getting away from Sunoo and Ni-Ki. It’s not his business, he won’t be in any trouble once they get home. Especially since he’s the one who found her in the end and will be bringing her home safe.

The girl calmly explains the situation into the microphone of her phone, watching Layla who has now begin rolling around in the grass, her legs sticking up and her tongue hanging out. She glances up at the boy above her, asking him his name. He stumbles through it, heart pounding in his chest, and finally she smiles, thanks the person on the other end and hangs up.

She eyes Jay one more time, all the way from top to bottom, like she’s still not so sure about his motives, before she holds up the leash to him. He stands there frozen for a moment, the wind pushing his hair into his eyes, which he quickly brushes back.

“Well, I guess you’re who you say you are. Maybe you should be in charge of getting her back home so your friends don’t lose her again.” The girl shakes the leash when it’s clear that Jay is stuck in limbo for a moment.

As though he’s shocked back to life, Jay reaches out quickly, almost snatching the leash from her hand, slipping his hand through the loop to make sure Layla doesn’t get any new grand prison-break ideas. Before Jay can think better of it, he’s opening his mouth, and more than the originally intended “thank you” comes out.

“Can I have your number?” He’s definitely beat red by now – his heart is pounding in his ears and his hand is nearly shaking at the thought of getting rejected out here in public by this person who he is nearly certain is his soulmate.

The girl flashes him this award-winning grin, as though she knew he was going to ask that, like she was planning on it.

“Is seeing my new favorite girl part of this exchange?” The girl reaches out to scratch behind Layla’s ear, who licks her cheek in return, earning yet another siren-sounding giggle into the air.

“If that’s what it takes, I’ll dog-nap her myself.” Jay says, hoping that comes off as funny as it did in his head. He’s relieved when she laughs again, this time at his joke, which swells him with pride.

She picks up a pen laying beside her, grabs his arm and quickly jots down her number on the inside of his wrist. The whole time, he’s acutely aware of the way his skin tingles at the points were her fingertips graze him, as though her very touch holds fire.

When she’s done, she lets him go like nothing happened, pets Layla one more time, picks up her book, and waves at Jay, essentially excusing him, although he doesn’t mind. He waves back, lightly tugging Layla’s leash to guide her back towards where he knows he left the others. He’ll have to break the news to Sunoo and Ni-Ki that they’re likely to have their last few hours on this earth soon, before Jake comes home and murders them for putting Layla at risk, but for now he doesn’t worry about that. All he can think about is how he’s going to open when he finally messages mystery girl.

It’s only when he makes it back to his friends that he realizes, he never caught her name.

[yourreddancer]

It was the dogs. The dogs are what got me.

A few years ago we visited the 9/11 Memorial Museum, and we saw a lot. Twisted steel girders. Baby-faced portraits of the deceased. Mutilated emergency vehicles.

But it was the dogs that wrecked me.

The dog exhibit is pretty small. Located in the far corner of the museum, with photographs of search and rescue dogs.

You see dogs nosing through rubble, wearing safety harnesses. You see them in their prime. They’re all deceased now. But they were spectacular.

There was Riley. Golden retriever. He was trained to find living people. But, he didn’t find any. Instead, he recovered the remains of firefighters. Riley kept searching for a live survivor, but found none. Riley’s morale tanked.

“I tried my best to tell Riley he was doing his job,” said his handler. “He had no way to know that when firefighters and police officers came over to hug him, and for a split second you can see them crack a smile—that Riley was succeeding at doing an altogether different job. He provided comfort. Or maybe he did know.”

There was Coby and Guiness. Black and yellow Labs. From California. Surfer dogs. They found dozens of human remains.

And Abigail. Golden Lab. Happy. Energetic. Committed. Big fan of bacon.

Sage. A border collie. Cheerful. Endless energy. Her first mission was searching the Pentagon wreckage after the attacks. She recovered the body of the terrorist who piloted American Airlines Flight 77.

Jenner. Black Lab. At age 9, he was one of the oldest dogs on the scene. Jenner’s handler, Ann Wichmann, remembers:

“It was 12 to 15 stories high of rubble and twisted steel. My first thought was, ‘I can't send Jenner into that…’ At one point, [Jenner] disappeared down a hole under the rubble and I was like, ‘Ugggggh!' Such a heart-stopping moment..."

Trakr. German Shepherd. Tireless worker. Worked until he couldn’t stand up anymore. Trakr found Genelle Guzman-McMillan, who was trapped for 27 hours among the debris. Genelle was as good as dead, until the cold nose poked through the mangled steel.

Apollo. German shepherd. An NYPD police dog. Coal-black muzzle. Liquid eyes. The first dog on the scene, only 15 minutes after the attacks. Apollo worked 18-hour days. Once, he was nearly killed in a fire during his search. But Apollo had been drenched in water and he was quick on his feet. No injuries.

Jake. Labrador. As a puppy, Jake was found on the side of the road in Dallas. Abandoned. Left for dead. Like trash. He had a dislocated hip and a broken leg. They made him a rescue dog.

Jake worked until his body threatened to collapse from exhaustion. After his shifts, local New York merchants saw his rescue-dog vest and treated him to free steak dinners in upscale Manhattan restaurants.

And, of course, there was Bretagne. Golden Retriever. Easygoing. Dutiful. Obsessed with food. Her owner and trainer, Denise Corliss, a firefighter from Harris County, Texas, brought Bretagne to Ground Zero while the rubble was still hot.

Bretagne went straight to work. She worked for 10 days solid. Ten agonizing days. Bretagne never quit. She napped onsite.

Denise recalls: “...There are images of Bretagne going to where she was directed to search, into the unknown, the chaotic environment. But even then, she knew who needed the comfort of a dog, and which firefighter needed to hold her close and stroke her fur.”

After 9/11, Bretagne also helped recovery efforts during the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, and Ivan. She retired at age 9.

Old age finally overtook her, she had a hard time using stairs, so Denise installed an above-ground pool to keep Bretagne’s joints limber.

In retirement, Bretagne became a reading dog at a local elementary school. First graders, too shy to read aloud, would read to a white-faced, elderly retriever who looked them in the eyes and smiled.

Bretagne visited students with special needs. She visited students with autism. She visited everyone.

She suffered kidney failure at age 16. She was put to sleep on June 7, 2016, and became the last of the 9/11 rescue dogs to end her earthly career.

Bretagne hobbled into the Cypress, Texas, animal hospital, one sunny Monday, only to discover the sidewalks and hallways were lined with firefighters, first responders, and rescue workers who saluted her.

Her remains were later escorted from the hospital, draped in an American flag.

We do not deserve dogs.

[frenzy-fanatic]

Intro to:

☆The magnificent frenzy☆

Your local mutt

Hellloooo!!!

Hi!! And welcome to my blog! The name is frenzy, but you will see the name red pop up a few times but thats only for my friends irl. I use pup/puppy and she/her pronouns.

I'm a furry and therian (border collie). I like to draw and do any kind of art that I'm willing to try.

My favorite things include:

sharks,

undertale,

horrortale,

ink sans,

nightmare sans,

dust sans,

horror sans,

fresh sans,

manta rays,

the ocean,

marine biology,

cats,

art,

reading,

fnaf,

and roller skating.

I'm always open to new ideas (however homophobia, transphobia, bigotry, racism, ablisim, and anything disrespectful will be blocked, I do not like disrespect no matter what ❤️).

I get really uncomfortable with flirting directed at me or any inappropriate comments (mainly because of the age of followers). Any and all constructive criticism is welcome.

Have a nice stay!

Extra:

Follow my (OLD: #red the mutt🐺🩸) #frenzy fanatic💫💛 tag for my art