#dumbbell retrieve
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IBGH3 competition, what a day.
Sammy had all the fun and barked a lot (he is not barky until it comes to competitions).
Beside the temperature canges (from 7°C up to 25°C in two days) and that he was barky, it was okay.
Our heelwork was a bit off (maybe just my feeling), I am happy he is okay - I saw on the video that he stumbled (otherwise the judge complimented our heelwork).
Sammy was an angel, he gave his very best.
90/100 points.
I am happy because the judge loved Sammys motivation and work again.
I heared the judge giggle when Sammy retrieved from ground and he grumbled while picking up the dumbbell (this made my day).
1 point away for a moving paw (stand out from motion).
2 points for chewing at the dumbbell both times.
1 point for a scew front sit.
1 point for a slowly sit out from motion.
And 5 points for the barking.
By the way, the judge was the sweetest person I ever had on a competition, so kind.
Sammy is a joy to work with ❤️.
#dogblr#dogs#puppies#video#dog training#dogsport#ibgh3#bgh3#competition#heelwork#dumbbell retrieve#sheltie#shetland sheepdog#april#april 2024#spring#sammy
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you’re an idiot (so am i) | j.jk
pairing. jeon jungkook x fem oc/reader
rating. M
genre. enemies to 👀, university AU, neighbours AU, comedy, drama, romance, angst, slight smut
warnings. coarse language, crACK like lOTS OF IT, theyre both idiots. excessive bickering,,, gym related stuff,,, Medical school itself is a warning,, unhealthy amounts of protein mentions,, i’m Sorry if you’re a gymbro 😭🙏🏾, awkwardness, oc gets slightly injured, it gets slightly smutty 👀, unspoken feelings bc they both suck at communicating, some Cute stuff, that should be it but lmk if i missed any, its 4am
wc. 4.5k +
if this writing style flops, i’ll probably quit writing too 💀
it’s 7:04 AM
or is it really. what is the time again
unfortunately you are awake.
and it’s not by choice.
it’s because your protein 💪 PROTEIN 💪 MORE PROTEIN 🏋️ gymrat neighbour is up, doing burpees in his living room
and the walls between your apartments are criminally thin
and you’re convinced he’s trying to invent a new form of torture through burpees because the sQUEAKING OF HIS DAMN SHOES ARE JUST AS LOUD AS AN ALARM CLOCK!!
why is he even awake at this ungodly hour, you wonder for the 8293838th time since moving in
you feel like crying
for rEAL.
it was around 5:30 am when u finally had let out a sigh of relief at having finally completed your assignment
you roll out of bed, hair resembling a bird’s nest
what else is bed hair supposed to look like
“O YEA!”
here we go
again
you feel like ripping your already damaged hair bc why does he have to be so damn loud
has no occupant not filed a complaint against him yet?
so now u consider knocking on his door to complain... but you remember what happened the last time you tried
jungkook had answered the door holding two dumbbells liKe they were extensions of his arms, shirtless, smiling so brightly it could cure vitamin D deficiency
you knew you were cooked the moment smirked at you gawkinG at his physique and you felt your cheeks warming up
“oh, hey, Y/N,” he’d said, casually flexing mid-sentence with that stupid grin on his face “need something? Or just admiring the view?”
you haven’t known peace ever since
by 8:15 AM, you’ve surrendered to fate and shuffled into the kitchen for coffee
you swEar you hear Jungkook’s blender whirring as he makes another one of his infamous protein shakes
does he even eat anything which does not have protein powder
like ok you understand the value of protein
but anything which has that stupid thing in it automatically tastes like the Biggest Piece of Dogshit
and somehow that’s what you neighbour has 24/7
last week he had accidentally left one in the communal fridge
it smelled like death and regret.
absolute L
anyway u think u need to get something in ur system too and thats when u open your fridge
and sigh
it’s empty.
except for a jar of pickles and a, uh, questionable carton of oat milk
yea. you’ll have to get brunch today. no futher questions asked
10:32 AM
ur first class of the day
and guess what
u have made the mistake of sitting near Jungkook in the lecture hall.
again! 😍
u swear that u are trying to focus on the lecture but is it really your fault that jungkook looks extra,,,...,,,
beefy
his notebook is open, but instead of notes, he’s drawing a disturbingly accurate diagram of biceps
and the shading looks pretty accurate too
he notices you staring, oof “anatomy is about more than just books, Y/N.”
you feel a muscle near your eye twitch
“i really don’t remember asking.”
ouch
that came out a bit too rude. . .
you feel like u should say sorry or something but he just flashes you that golden retriever grin
and somehow, you’re the one who feels stupid
12:10 PM
you’d think a med school lunch break would feel like a break
but no
the first thing you hear is the unmistakable pop of jungkook’s tupperware lid. it’s like pavlov’s bell, but instead of a dog, it triggers your impending irritation
of course it’s chicken, broccoli, and rice. gymrat starter pack™
does this man even know other foods exist?
atleast it doesn’t look unseasoned so maybe you can take it
you’re not the one having it anyway
“bon appétit,” he says with that smug grin, shoveling a forkful into his mouth like he’s filming a mukbang
you side-eye your sad excuse of a sandwich. “don’t you ever get bored of eating that?”
he gasps like a victorian man having seen the ankle of his wife for the first time
“bored? of gains? never.”
the chewing. oh god, the chewing. it’s so loud you’re convinced he’s doing it on purpose
crunch. chew. sip of water from the world’s largest bottle. repeat.
“do you have to eat like a vacuum?”
he pauses, fork mid-air, and looks at you with wide, innocent eyes. then he grins. “do you have to be this cute when you’re annoyed?”
wha— cough!!
did you just choke at your sandwich infront of him?
-100 aura points
your brain just blue-screens
what the hell are you supposed to do with that information
12:22 pm
you haven’t touched your chips yet. you’re saving them for after jungkook’s food massacre ends
his tupperware is licked clean but he’s already eyeing your bag of chips like a hawk
“you gonna eat those?”
“yes, jungkook, i’m gonna eat my chips”
“cool”
c r u n c h
he’s already eaten half the bag.
u are genuinely considering homicide now
the girl from the next table suddenly waves at him, all giggly and twirling her hair like she’s auditioning for a romcom
“hey, jungkook! you should totally sit with us!”
he glances at you, one brow raised. “should i?”
“why are you asking me?” you snap, already annoyed (but like, annoyed in a normal way, not jealous. definitely not jealous)
you miss the way his lips quirk in the corners
“nah, i think i’ll stay here,” he says, smirking. “you’re better company anyway”
...
why is your face heating up. why. stop it
1:00 PM
you’re walking to your next class when jungkook catches up, sipping his protein shake. the smell is somewhere between expired yogurt and pure evil
“so, lunch was fun,” he says casually, like he didn’t commit multiple crimes against your sanity earlier
“for who?” you mumble, giving him the nastiest bombastic side eye
“for both of us,” he replies, grinning. “don’t lie, y/n, you’d miss me if i wasn’t around”
“i’d miss the peace”
he laughs heartily and it’s the kind of laugh that makes you want to both strangle him and maybe... smile a little
1:12 PM
ur phone dings
dumb(bell)kook : (now) bring more chips tomorrow
or don’t. i’ll just steal them again
>:D
you stare at your screen for a second, debating whether to respond or block his number
you type back
you : (1:13PM) touch my chips again and i’ll report you to student conduct
his reply is instant.
dumb(bell)kook : (now) bet they’d let me off for good behavior 😛
2:47 pm.
group project time!
otherwise known as “watch y/n slowly lose her sanity” time
you're hunched over your notes, trying to come up with literally anything for this cursed assignment while everyone else is glued to their phones
“guys, any ideas?” you try, for the fifth time, because teamwork makes the dream work, right?
wrong. dead silence. you can practically hear your soul exiting your body
one guy mutters, "we could... idk, make a powerpoint?" and goes back to scrolling on instagram. helpful king
you’re about three seconds away from making a powerpoint on why you hate everyone here when the door swings open
in walks jungkook, twenty minutes late, balancing a protein shake in one hand and a clipboard in the other
like he’s about to announce his plan for world domination
he slides into the chair next to you, annoyingly fresh, as if he hasn’t just already benched three cows at the gym
“did i miss anything?” he asks, sipping his shake and eyeing you with those boba lookalike peepers like he’s the main character
why are his eyes so
cute
“yeah, we solved climate change and made contact with aliens. you're late.”
he smirks. smirks. “nice. guess i’ll tackle world hunger next.”
one of your lab mates looks up from her phone just to whisper, “he’s so hot..”
my ass.
“he’s useless”
you’re about to drop-kick the clipboard out of his hands when he lazily stretches and says, “so what’s the plan, y/n? you always have the best ideas”
and just like that, everyone turns to you like a pack of hyenas waiting for their next meal
you might actually murder him. right after you finish this stupid project.
>:-)
midnight.
you’re staring at your notes like they’re written in ancient alien hieroglyphics. focus? yup, that’s a myth
through the wall, you hear it. again.
jungkook’s obnoxious gym playlist thumping loud enough to summon the gods of protein.
how about you just summon the reaper to maybe reap your soul or his
you try to ignore it. you really do. but then the bass drops, and you swear the walls start vibrating
ARGH
that’s it. you’ve snapped. you slam your pen down and march out of your apartment like a woman on a mission
by the time you’re at his door, you’re already regretting this decision
but sleep-deprived y/n? she’s not known for her impulse control
you bang on the door like your life depends on it
>:-(
after a moment, jungkook opens up, looking like he just stepped out of a gym rat rom-com. damp hair, earbuds in, wearing a tank top that shows off way too much arm.
good lord, those tattoos..
“what’s up?” he asks casually, pulling out an earbud, as if you didn’t just nearly break his door down
whats up? what thE hELL DOES HE MEAN WHATS UP??
“it’s midnight!” you yell, waving a hand in the general direction of your apartment. “some of us need sleep to survive!”
he blinks at you, tilting his head like a confused golden retriever. “but you’re awake now. want to do a quick set of push-ups?
you stare at him. you need to go to the store from where he bought the audacity. “push-ups?!”
“yeah,” he says, dead serious. “it’s a good way to burn off frustration. i do them all the time when i’m annoyed.”
“maybe i should start,” you mutter, narrowing your eyes. “because i’m annoyed right now.”
jungkook grins like the demon he is. “great! i’ll grab my mat.”
before you can stop him, he’s already turned back into his apartment. you briefly consider running, but it’s too late.
this is your life now.
five minutes later, you’re on the floor of his apartment, struggling to do one (1) push-up while he effortlessly does twenty in the same time it takes you to collapse in defeat
you feel like someone has bathed you in sweat
“this is humiliating,” you groan, face smushed into the mat
maybe you should’ve just slept
“nah, you’re doing great,” he says, way too cheerfully for someone torturing you. “just three more and you’ll hit... like, five total.”
you debate throwing a dumbbell at him but decide against it
jail isn’t worth it.
yet.
five minutes later you’re on the floor of his apartment, now two (2) push-ups deep and already regretting every decision you’ve made up to this point
you try again, your arms shaking with the effort, your brain screaming for mercy, when—
crack
“ow, ow, ow!” you yelp as your shoulder protests in a way that’s probably not supposed to happen
“that’s it, i’m dOne” you wince, face red from the sheer humiliation and pain
jungkook is standing there with a weirdly sympathetic expression that’s 90% amusement and 10% concern
he’s crouching beside you now, and you can't help but notice his Bambi eyes, all big and concerned, looking at your shoulder like he's actually worried for you
fml
this is so unfair
“u good?” he asks, voice unusually soft, and you can’t help but notice that barely there scar on his left cheek pulling slightly as he frowns and looks down at you
you glare at him, wincing a little more than you’d like to admit
does it look like ur good lol
“i think i pulled something” you mutter, still holding your shoulder, and mentally kicking yourself for agreeing to do this in the first place
you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to him
“mm,” he hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to your face, and then down to your shoulder with that gentle focus you didn’t think he was capable of
oUuu
“you should’ve asked for help, rookie” he says with that familiar cocky grin, but you catch the slight crinkle of concern in his brow, the mole beneath his lips almost beckoning you to stare at it
why is he so dumb but also so stupidly handsome?
and then his fingers are brushing against your shoulder again, carefully massaging the area in a way that’s too intimate for someone who’s just your annoying gym-obsessed neighbor
your heart rate spikes, and suddenly the injury doesn't seem like such a big deal anymore
“i’m fine, really,” you lie, trying to brush it off, but the way his Bambi eyes are looking at you—all soft and worried—has your head spinning
oh god
“i don’t think you are” he mutters, voice low, as he places a hand gently on your waist, pulling you just a little closer
god, stop being so touchy
the fact that he smells like musk and with some citrus-y notes underneath doesn’t help either
you feel your cheeks warming and lips parting
you feel yourself leaning in despite all logic telling you to stop, and then his eyes flicker down to your lips and back to your eyes, slow and cautious, like he’s waiting for your permission
you really cannot help but feel your heart skip a beat at how beautiful he looks. no like for real, his hair is slightly overgrown, curled at the ends which fall gracefully over his face
and how soft his lips look
your brain is too far gone, and the next thing you know, you’re kissing him, hand tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer
his hair feels so silky soft
but his lips are even softer, but there’s a desperate edge to the kiss, and you don’t know if it's because of your injury or the fact that you’ve both been playing this weird tension game for far too long
you feel like u can finally die kissing him like this
his hand slides down your back, pressing you into him as if you might disappear, and you pull away, gasping for air
jungkook’s eyes are wide, his pupils blown and heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling quickly as he looks at you with an unreadable expression
“shit, i… i didn’t think i was actually going to do that” he murmurs, his voice rough and nearly trembling if u hear closely
you stare at his lips again, the mole under them, the way he looks so dumb but also so dumb handsome
his mouth parts to say something stupid again but you shush him with your pointer on his lips
“shut up and kiss me again, you idiot” you mutter, pulling him back in without a second thought
oH WOW
Jungkook doesn’t need any more encouragement. this time, it’s all teeth and heat, a kiss that feels like it might burn the air around you both
and your shoulder? completely forgotten, left in the dust
the kiss doesn’t end in some grand, romantic crescendo like the movies promised
you both were shamelessly making out on his mat
you were perched on his lap and both of u were busy eating eachother’s mouths (it sounds gross but that’s what exactly u two were doing) when suddenly you give his hair a tug
and you hear a moan spilling from him
his hips buck up and you gasp, but it ends with him abruptly pulling away
he’s breathing like he just ran an hour on the treadmill. cheeks all flushed, lips shining with saliva and eyes wide
and your heart is hammering in your chest like it’s trying to escape
jungkook stares at you, lips slightly swollen, eyes wide and wild, and for once, the idiot looks just as lost as you feel
“i—uh—” you stammer, the words tangling in your throat because what the hell are you supposed to say after something like that
“y- yeah,” he cuts in, his voice rough and strained like he’s been punched in the gut, “same”
same? SAME?!
you glare at him, more out of panic than anger, because suddenly the room feels too small, and his scent—something annoyingly musky and Jungkook-ish—is now overwhelming you
“i, uh, should go” you blurt out, scrambling to your feet and clutching your sore shoulder like a lifeline
jungkook doesn’t stop you, just sits there on the floor, looking up at you with a furrowed brow and an expression you can’t quite place
“cool” he mutters, dragging a hand through his messy hair as his jaw clenches
you don’t say anything else, don’t even look back as you practically bolt out of his apartment and into the safety of your own, slamming the door shut behind you
breathe, you tell yourself, leaning against the door, your heart still racing, your lips still tingling from his kiss
you won’t lie, you really didn’t think it would take just a tug of hair to have Mr. Muscle moaning under you
and that kind of inflated ur ego too
>:-)
but now
as u stand behind your closed door
the warmth that had filled your chest moments ago is quickly replaced by a knot of confusion and panic
because this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with Jungkook of all people
he’s my annoying gym-rat neighbor. this is… this is stupid
or is this really?..
no matter how much you try to convince yourself, your fingers keep brushing your lips absentmindedly, and your brain replays the moment over and over again like some kind of cruel joke
the next morning, you half expect him to blast his gym playlist at full volume to piss you off like he always does
but it’s quiet
too quiet
jungkook doesn’t blast music. doesn’t clank weights around. doesn’t do anything to make his presence known, and it’s driving you insane
you don’t know why it bothers you so much, but it does
when you leave for class, you catch a glimpse of him locking his door, but he doesn’t even glance your way
just slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks off like you don’t exist
asshole
yea that hurt. a Lot. like a good amount, because you are sure that you felt that pain in the centre of your chest
but it’s not like you’re any better
you bury yourself in your textbooks, pretending the kiss never happened, even though your stupid brain refuses to let it go
your chest feels tight every time you hear his door open or his voice filter through the thin walls
and you hate how you feel disappointed every time he doesn’t acknowledge you
like you really are a stranger to him
:-(
it’s pathetic, but you can’t help it
the silence between the two of you stretches on like an invisible barrier
days pass, and the two of you become masters of the fine art of avoidance
there’s a strange art to it, like walking on eggshells in your own apartment
even if u two live in separate apartments, it just feels
weird
you are so used to him being so noisy and what not
but the silence is heavy, uncomfortable, like an unfinished sentence hanging in the air
and it’s clEar neither of you know how to handle whatever the hell this is
you can’t figure out whether it’s a relief or suffocating
and every time you pass him in the hallway or see him through your apartment window, it’s like a silent conversation you’re not having
and that, somehow, feels worse than everything else
you want him to say something. anything.
but he doesn’t
and neither do you
and it makes you sick how easy it is to fall back into the rhythm of pretending he doesn’t exist
even when he’s right there.
you go to class and he’s there
sitting three rows ahead of you like he’s deliberately trying to ignore you
and with that girl who cannot seem to have her hands off his bicep
and you’re… fine with it
totally fine
you are just hoping that your glare is enough to burn a hole in her skull
it’s just that you can’t stop staring at the back of his head
like maybe he’ll turn around and say something but nope
the entire lecture passes and he doesn’t even glance over
and you try not to overthink it but you’re pretty sure jungkook is doing the same thing to you
ignoring you
on purpose
you’re not imagining it, right?
lunch rolls around and you sit down at your usual spot
jungkook’s sitting at the table next to you with his back to you
he doesn’t even look up when you sit down
normally, he would’ve sent you a little half-smile or asked about your day or whatever. .
but now? nothing
it’s like you’re invisible
and that’s fine. you don’t care.
but deep down, you feel this weird lump in your chest
because you didn’t expect this coldness from him
even after everything that’s happened
and you’d even unconsciously brought his favourite flavour of chips he especially likes..
:(
then you see him texting on his phone
and you can’t help but peek over at his screen
jungkook is texting someone
and it’s not you
for some reason, that stings more than it should, but you swallow it down and pretend you didn’t notice
the silence between the two of you stretches out for days
it’s like the entire universe is pretending you never had that moment together
the night when everything took a wild ass turn
but jungkook’s acting like it never happened
and so are you.
and maybe, just maybe, that’s better
maybe he regrets kissing you.
maybe you even made him uncomfortable?..
and maybe this is easier
you can’t decide if it hurts or if you’re just overthinking it
either way, you stop checking his texts, stop wondering what he’s doing in his apartment
you try your best to pretend it’s okay
but deep down, you miss the stupid moments
the ones where he wasn’t so distant where it feels like something ended between you two before it could even start.
it feels like it’s been over a decade
:(
and you hate it.
but you push it aside
it’s just… the silence is way too loud now.
you’re sitting in your room, trying to convince yourself that letting go of jungkook is the right thing to do
and perhaps ur failing miserably lol
but it’s hard because every five minutes you catch yourself staring at something that reminds you of him
your notes? he doodled on them during lectures
your hoodie? yeah, it’s his. he lent it to you one day and never asked for it back
your heart? yeah. he kind of stole that too
you’re spiraling between sleep and insanity when there’s a knock on your door
no, wait—it’s not a knock
it’s banging — like someone’s fist is about to break through the wood
WHO CALLED THE COPS ON YOU ONG
you jump up, your heart pounding, and open the door
and there he is
jungkook—standing there, looking like he just ran a marathon and fought a bear at the same time
hair all messy, slight bags underneath his eyes and kinda disheveled outfit
for a split second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat
oh
it’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, and suddenly having him standing in front of you is making your heart race like crazy
“i can’t—” he stops, breathless, hands on his knees like he’s about to collapse
you’re standing there, eyes wide, totally taken aback by the sight of him, feeling a mix of relief and something else you can’t quite place
yet
“i can’t take it anymore,” he says, looking up at you with that ridiculous face of his
you grab that meaty bicep of him, ushering him to stand up
“what are you talking about?” you ask, completely confused
“you. i’m talking about you,” he says, taking a step closer
hUH
the air around you feels like it’s being sucked out of the room
your head is spinning because after all this time, here he is, right in front of you
“i like you. i’ve always liked you. and i didn’t know how to tell you, so i…”
“i got all this gym equipment just to bother you. i’d turn the music up way too loud, and i thought that’d make you notice me. i sat next to you at lunch, even in lectures, doing everything to annoy you because i didn’t know how else to approach you, i really thought—”
“jungkook.”
you blink, processing everything in a blur, your heart still hammering in your chest
but he doesn’t quite listen to you. “i knew you liked my sketches we had during cardio lectures, so i always made sure to draw—”
“juNGKOOK!”
you cut him off, smacking his idiotic shoulders “you’re an idiot.”
jungkook stops, eyes widening a little, but there’s this look of relief on his face
like a huge weight has just been lifted off him
almost like when u get to pee after holding it in for hours
“i know,” he says softly, and for the first time, you realize how vulnerable he looks standing there
he somehow looks
small.
“then why didn’t you just talk to me like a normal person?” you ask, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement
jungkook smiles sheepishly, his pearly whites flashing. “i guess i thought this would be easier.”
easier.
only if he knew that each moment without him felt like the earth opening up and swallowing you
AND!!! HIS FAVOURITE ONION VINEGAR FLAVORED CHIPS!! which used to be your absolutely hated flavour but somehow you’ve caught a liking to them recently
how ironic
the room feels heavy with tension as you both stand there, unsure of what to say next, but his gaze is so intense, it makes your heart skip
“say something,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “please.”
you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, still flustered, but there’s something about his earnestness that makes everything else fade into the background
and the way his caramel brown eyes nearly sparkle underneath your dimly lit apartment lights
you shake your head with a smile.
“you’re an idiot.”
but you're smiling like a total fool because what else are you supposed to do when the guy you’ve been in love with just confessed to you?
jungkook’s face softens, and then he smiles too
a smile which looks so adorable you feel your heart will burst
and it’s over for you
“so, uh…” he scratches the back of his neck, looking bashful. “does that mean you like me too?”
you roll your eyes, your heart racing all over again, and grab the front of his shirt to pull him inside
“kiss me already”
the door slams shut behind you.
and the rest
as they say, is history
:-)
a/n : i love them bad :’(
mlist | let me know what you think anonymously :))
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ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤.
PAIRING: evan buckley x fem!reader WARNINGS: the end of s6 e10, no use of y/n GENRE: fluff to angst to fluff, friends to lovers SONG INSPIRATION: close by nick jonas, tove lo WORD COUNT: 5.4k
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working out with buck had been your idea. you’d been needing a workout buddy for weeks, and when the team’s golden retriever of a firefighter overheard you mumbling about it to yourself, he all but begged to join.
“you kidding me?” he’d said, practically bouncing on his heels. his blue eyes lit up. “i’ve been dying for someone to spot me! eddie’s great and all, but he always wants to do leg day. you can’t skip chest, y’know?”
you couldn’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm, rolling your eyes in fond amusement. “fine,” you’d said, shrugging. “but don’t complain when i make you do cardio.”
he’d placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “cardio? brutal. i’m in.”
truthfully, you weren’t about to turn him down. buck’s infectious energy was always a mood booster, and the idea of having some company – especially someone as good natured as buck, made the thought of dragging yourself to the gym a little more bearable.
what you hadn’t expected, though, was just how much of a scene your new workout buddy would cause once you actually got there.
from the moment you walked in, it was clear buck had a way of drawing attention. it wasn’t just his size, though, at a towering 6’2 with broad shoulders and a physique that screamed firefighter, he was hard to miss.
it was the way he carried himself: confident, animated, and completely unaware of how many people were stealing glances his way.
“alright, partner,” he said, clapping his hands together with a grin as he surveyed the gym floor.
“what’s the game plan?”
before you could respond, he leaned closer, his voice dropping conspiratorially. “wait…please tell me you’re not one of those people who only does the treadmill and leaves.”
your eyebrows shot up. “and what if i am?”
buck gasped, scandalized. “then i’d have to stage an intervention. you’re not just here to take instagram selfies, right?”
“relax, buck,” you said, laughing. “i actually want to work out. and for the record, i don’t even have instagram.”
“good,” he said, relieved. “because i have a strict no posers policy,” he laughs.
the first hour was typical enough. you’d both started on treadmills to warm up, buck kept pace with you, occasionally shooting you goofy grins or nudging your arm to try and playfully throw you off.
but when it came time to hit the weights, the playful banter took a backseat to something else entirely.
“alright,” buck said, clapping his hands together as the two of you moved to the weight machines. “what’s the plan? you wanna start light and work your way up?”
you gave him a look, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “not exactly.”
he blinked, his curiosity piqued, as you walked past the smaller dumbbells and headed straight for the leg press machine. without hesitation, you loaded it up with plates, a lot of plates.
buck’s eyebrows shot up. “uh…” he hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “you sure about that? that’s, like, 280 pounds.”
“yeah,” you said casually, adjusting the seat as if it was no big deal.
he stepped closer, his concern evident. “i mean, not to doubt you or anything, but… that’s a lot of weight. you sure you don’t wanna, i dunno, warm up with something lighter?”
you shot him a grin, sliding into position. “relax, buck. i’ve got this.”
he opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat as you pushed against the plate, lifting the weight with almost laughable ease.
his jaw dropped.
“holy–”
you completed the first few reps with smooth, controlled movements, your legs steady as you pressed the weight up and lowered it back down like it was nothing. by the time you finished the set, buck’s jaw was practically on the floor.
you sat up, brushing a bead of sweat from your brow and giving him an amused glance. “what?”
buck shook his head, a laugh bubbling out of him as he stared at the loaded machine. “i don’t even know what to say right now.”
“say i’m strong and move on,” you said, smirking as you got up to grab a towel.
“oh, you’re strong, alright,” he said, still staring at the weights like they might be made of styrofoam. “you’re, like, scary strong.”
you rolled your eyes, brushing off the compliment as you moved toward the next machine. “it’s not that impressive.”
“not that impressive?” buck repeated, practically tripping over himself to follow you. “are you kidding me? you just lifted more weight than half the guys i know! heck, i’m not even sure i can do that.”
you shrugged, unconcerned. “it’s not a competition, buck.”
“no, but seriously, how did you– what’s your secret? is it, like, spinach? protein shakes? did you sell your soul for quads of steel?”
you snorted, shaking your head. “hard work, buck. and maybe a little bit of magic spinach.”
he laughed, still looking at you with something bordering on awe. “okay, but now i’m scared to spar with you. what if you accidentally throw me across the room or something?”
“don’t tempt me,” you teased, grabbing a set of dumbbells for your next exercise.
but buck wasn’t letting it go. he lingered by your side, peppering you with questions about your routine, your strength, and how you managed to make 280 pounds look like a warm up as you both did your shoulder press sets.
“do you ever, like, wrestle people for fun?” he asked, eyes wide with curiosity. “because i think you could clean out a bar with those legs.”
“i don’t usually make a habit of that,” you said, amused by his relentless fascination.
“well, you should. you’d make bank,” he said, completely serious.
you chuckled, shaking your head as you put down your equipment. you moved to another machine. “buck, are you going to work out, or are you just here to watch me?”
“oh, i’m working out,” he said, grabbing a pair of weights. “but i’m also taking mental notes. i mean, i thought i was strong, but now? i’ve got to try not to be lifted by you in every single exercise.”
“good luck with that,” you said, smirking.
buck’s grin widened, his competitive streak lighting up in his eyes. “oh, it’s on.”
as the workout continued, buck kept finding new things to be impressed by.
when you did pull ups, he counted under his breath, his awe growing with each rep. “you’re gonna make me look bad,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“then keep up,” you teased, dropping down effortlessly.
when you moved back over to free weights, buck watched as you lifted with perfect form, the muscles in your arms flexing with every movement.
“i think i just found my new hero,” he said, only half-joking.
“buck,” you said, laughing. “stop staring and do your set.”
“i can’t help it,” he admitted, grinning. “you’re like… the woman version of captain america.”
you rolled your eyes, your cheeks warming despite yourself. “you’re ridiculous.”
over the weeks, going to the gym with evan had become a comforting routine. he always made your favorite protein shakes, bringing it in the reusable cup you’d picked out together on a shopping trip.
there was a soothing familiarity to the cycle you’d both fallen into: wake up early, eat, meet evan, work out, eat again, then head to work.
it was exhausting, sure, but it also made you feel more alive and motivated than you had in ages.
as much as you enjoyed it, though, it was becoming a bit of a problem. you felt an ache of disappointment on the days evan couldn’t make it or when he brought someone else to the gym on days you were too sick to go.
there was a twinge of something deeper, an unease in your stomach, whenever you weren’t around him.
you couldn’t stop yourself from sneaking glances at him between sets. watching him lift massive weights with ease, his face barely showing the strain, made your cheeks heat up. flustered, you quickly turned away, taking a sip of water to hide the smile threatening to betray your feelings.
the more time you spent with evan, the harder it became to ignore how much you enjoyed his company – how much you looked forward to your time together. it was in the way when he’d adjust the equipment for you, his knowing smirks when he caught you stealing glances at him, and the way he made the gym feel more like a hangout than a chore.
that morning, as you finished a set on the leg press, you caught evan watching you, his gaze lingering just a second longer than usual. he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
“not bad,” he said. “looks like someone’s been paying attention.”
you shrugged, pretending to be unfazed. “someone had to. i can’t exactly count on you for tips.”
his grin widened as he pushed off the wall, walking toward you. “oh, is that right? maybe i should stop correcting your form then.”
“maybe you should,” you quipped, grabbing your water bottle. “but we both know you can’t help yourself.”
he laughed, low and warm. “you’re lucky i like you.”
you tilted your head, smirking. “oh, you like me? i thought this whole thing was me doing you a favor.”
he stepped closer, close enough that you had to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “is that what you think?” he asked, his voice dropping slightly. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re the one who keeps showing up to see me.”
you rolled your eyes, even as your pulse quickened. “don’t flatter yourself, buckley. i’m here for the gains.”
“sure you are.” he leaned in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne. “and the protein shakes, right?”
you shrugged, letting a sly smile cross your lips. “well, the shakes are pretty good. i might keep you around for those.”
he laughed, shaking his head as you brushed past him toward the mats. “unbelievable.”
the rest of the session passed with the same energy. quick-witted remarks, lingering looks, and more than a little playful tension. when you finished stretching, evan handed you your protein shake, his smirk firmly in place.
“taste test,” he said, nodding toward the cup. “admit it. i’m the best gym partner you’ve ever had.”
you took a sip, deliberately slow, meeting his gaze with a smirk of your own. “mmm… you’re definitely in my top three.”
his jaw dropped in mock offense. “top three? that’s all i get?”
you shrugged, walking toward the door. “guess you’ll have to work harder if you want to move up.”
he followed after you, his chuckle soft but full of amusement. “oh, i will. don’t worry.”
as you stepped into the cool morning air, the playful grin you exchanged with him lingered. it wasn’t just the workouts keeping you coming back, and you were pretty sure he knew it too.
you should have said something before you left the station.
the bad feeling in your gut had been sitting there all morning, clawing at your nerves with every glance toward buck. he’d been his usual self. bright, charming self. in the way only evan buckley could be, but something about today felt incredibly off.
you didn’t know what it meant but you knew it wasn’t anything to do with his usual antics that made you uneasy.
as soon as the alarm sounded, buck had been all business, as if the bad feeling had somehow missed him completely. but it had latched onto you, sinking its sharp claws deeper with every second.
"hey," he had said just before you all climbed into the engine. "you’ve been staring at me all morning. something on your mind, or do i look extra good today?" his grin was wide, teasing, just like always.
you rolled your eyes, the usual banter offering no comfort this time. "just… don’t do anything stupid, buck."
he smirked as he slung his helmet on, the motion so casual it could have been an instinct at this point. "define stupid," he teased back, his voice light as he climbed into the engine.
you watched him for a second, a twinge of frustration running through you. he wasn’t taking you seriously. but the bad feeling, the nagging sense that something was off, wouldn’t leave.
you knew you weren’t being paranoid.
"buck," you called, stopping him by holding onto his arm just as he was about to get into the engine, his back turned to you. "i'm serious. you’ve been a little more reckless lately, and i don’t want to see you get hurt. you need to be careful."
his expression softened slightly, but there was a flicker of that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. "hey, you worry too much," he said with a chuckle. "i’ve got this."
you exhaled sharply, watching him climb in and settle into his seat. you should have insisted more. should have made him listen. but instead, you let it slide, trying to push aside the bad feeling in your gut.
still, that nagging feeling wouldn’t go away.
the entire drive to the scene, you couldn’t shake it. you kept glancing at buck out of the corner of your eye, but every time he caught you staring, he’d throw you a grin or wink, as if everything was just fine, as if nothing was wrong. he didn’t see it.
you tried to focus on the task at hand, tried to prepare yourself for whatever was waiting for you once you arrived. but that feeling, that certainty in your gut that something was about to go wrong, kept escalating.
the scene before you was pure chaos. flames licking hungrily at the night sky, smoke billowing in plumes from the high rise apartment building. the rain was relentless, drenching everything, adding a cruel, ironic touch to the flames. you worked quickly, herding evacuees to a safe distance, your voice steady despite the frantic pounding of your heart.
through it all, your eyes kept flickering to buck. he was ‘arguing’ with chimney, both gesturing toward the ladder propped up next to the burning building. you didn’t need to hear them to know what it was about; the decision of who would ascend into danger.
buck won. chimney relented, clapping him on the shoulder before stepping back. you watched buck as he adjusted his gear and started up the ladder.
your hands itched to pull him back, to ground him. but this was the job.
“be careful,” you murmured under your breath, as if the wind might carry your words to him.
he was now fully up the ladder, chimney and eddie stood close by, ready to assist
the hose spraying water over the flames as he leaned into his harness. the muscles in his arms flexed against the pull of the stream, his movements steady despite the slippery ladder and the brutal weather.
you stayed rooted on the spot, keeping a watchful eye on him. every instinct in your body screamed at you to make sure he was okay. he was professional, you knew that, you'd seen it time after time again but also knew that he was always pushing himself, always risking too much.
he adjusted his grip on the hose, pausing for a moment to glance around. his head tilted slightly, scanning the sky above.
that’s when it happened.
a blinding flash of light. searing, far too close. the bolt of lightning struck with a deafening crack, so near it sent a shockwave through the ground. you stumbled back, shielding your face against the glare. when your vision cleared, the madness continued.
eddie was on the ground, sprawled beside the truck, stunned but moving. your eyes darted to the ladder, searching frantically for buck.
your breath hitched.
he was dangling. his body hung limply from the harness. your heart dropped into your stomach, your voice breaking as you screamed his name.
“buck!”
hen was suddenly beside you, her hand firm on your arm. “i’ve got this,” she said quickly, taking your place as you stumbled toward the ladder.
everything around you blurred except for him. your heart racing as you saw chimney and eddie already scaling it, their movements urgent. your heart pounded in your ears.
buck was still swaying in the harness.
chimney reached him first, working quickly to detach the harness, easing him on a stretcher. the seconds felt like hours as they maneuvered to bring him down, each movement too slow for your frantic mind.
they pulled his helmet off, revealing a face that was far too pale. he wasn’t moving. he wasn’t breathing.
“oh my god.” the words left your lips in a whisper at first, then louder, more frantic. “oh my god, he’s not breathing!”
your knees buckled, and eddie caught you, his arms steady around your shaking frame. “they’ve got him,” he said, his voice tight but comforting. yet his eyes betrayed him, he was just as terrified as you were.
chimney was already working, barking orders, his hands moving with practiced precision. but all you could do was stare, tears streaming down your face as you clung to eddie.
“come on, buck,” you pleaded, your voice cracking. “please.”
time stretched endlessly, each second a cruel twist of the knife. eddie’s arms tightened around you, grounding you as you sobbed into his shoulder, unable to tear your eyes away from the still figure on the stretcher.
and then, mercifully, chimney shouted, “i’ve got a pulse!”
relief washed over you, a sensation you hadn’t realised how desperately you needed until it finally hit. the moment buck’s chest rose and fell, a steady rhythm of life, you felt a flicker of hope ignite in your chest.
you were the first to jump into the ambulance after they loaded him in, not even thinking, you just knew that you needed to be with him, to stay close. you sat beside him, as the paramedics worked, hands moving swiftly.
your eyes stayed glued to buck, to the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. the fog of his exhale against the oxygen mask was the smallest of assurances, but it was enough. enough to make you believe that, against all odds, he was still here with you.
your fingers curled into the seat beneath you, holding on to that fragile hope. his pulse was steady now, mingling with the low hum of the ambulance. for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe again, knowing that somehow, miraculously, he was still with you.
later that night, the others came by to visit buck after their shifts ended.
first, it was hen. she walked into the room, her face drawn with concern, her eyes immediately seeking you out. when she saw you still sitting in your uniform, not having moved from buck’s side, her expression softened. she took a slow breath, then crossed the room to stand beside you.
“hey,” hen said quietly, her voice gentle as she took in the sight of you, your exhaustion evident. she noticed how you were clinging to the quiet hope that buck would wake up any moment. she placed a hand on the back of the chair you were sitting in, her touch light but grounding.
“i know there’s nothing i can really say to fix this, but just know you’re not alone, alright?”
you gave her a small, tired smile, grateful for her presence. “i know,” you whispered, nodding toward buck. “i just… i need to be here. he’ll wake up soon, hen. he has to.”
she didn’t push you to talk more, knowing there were no words that could change what had happened. she simply stood there, her presence a quiet comfort. she squeezed your shoulder lightly before stepping back toward the door. “i’m one phone call away if you need me.”
you nodded again, and hen gave you one last look. one filled with unspoken support, before she left the room, leaving you alone with buck, the steady beeping of machines and the soft rustle of sheets the only sounds filling the silence.
next came bobby. his steps were slow, almost hesitant, as he approached. he paused for a moment by the door, taking in the sight of you sitting by buck’s side, clearly worn out but unwilling to leave. he stepped closer, his hand briefly resting on your shoulder in a silent show of support.
“how’s he doing?” bobby asked, his voice low but laced with concern.
you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you gave him the same explanation you’d given hen. “he’s stable. the doctors said it’s just the aftereffects of the lightning strike. he’s in a coma, but they’re monitoring him closely.” your voice wavered slightly, but you pushed through, not wanting to show how deeply it was affecting you.
bobby nodded, absorbing the information. he didn’t ask for more details. his gaze lingered on buck for a moment, his brow furrowing with worry before he looked back at you.
“i know that he appreciates you being here with him.”
you offered him a tight smile, appreciating the sentiment even if it didn’t quite ease the weight in your chest.
bobby gave you one last, understanding glance before he turned and made his way to the door.
he left quietly, leaving you alone once more with buck, the room feeling a little emptier than before but still filled with that quiet hope that he’d wake up soon.
it wasn't long until eddie got there. he stood at the doorway for a moment, looking at you with that familiar, quiet worry in his eyes. his gaze flickered to buck before he approached. “how are you holding up?” he asked softly.
you nodded, though the exhaustion was starting to hit you. “i’m fine. i just... i need to be here. he’ll wake up soon. the doctors are optimistic.”
eddie gave a short, strained smile, but his eyes didn’t quite match the gesture. “you’re doing everything you can.” he patted your shoulder and lingered for a moment, then left without another word, his presence offering you the slightest bit of comfort.
after eddie, chimney and maddie came by together, both looking drained from their shifts. they paused when they saw you still sitting there, but you shook your head, silently telling them you were okay.
you reiterated what you had said to the others.
chimney gave you a concerned glance, but maddie was the first to pull you into a hug. her arms wrapped around you, offering a quiet but comforting presence. you let yourself lean into the embrace for a moment, grateful for the feeling of someone who understood what you were going through.
they stayed for a little while, with maddie talking softly to you, her voice calm and steady, offering small distractions. eventually, she gave chimney a look, and he gave a brief nod before heading out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.
the room felt a little quieter, a little more intimate, and the weight of everything seemed to settle around you both. after a beat of silence, maddie let out a soft sigh and glanced over at buck, his unconscious form still hooked up to machines. “of course evan would be the one to go and get struck by lightning,” she said with a light laugh, the sound a bit shaky.
you couldn’t help but chuckle too, glancing at buck with a fond smile. the moment lingered for a while, but the laughter eventually faded, and the air grew heavier again.
maddie’s expression softened, her tone turning more serious. “he talks about you all the time, you know?”
your head snapped toward her, the surprise evident in your eyes. “he… he does?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
maddie gave a small, knowing smile and nodded. “a little too much, if i’m being honest. but don’t tell him i said that,” she added with a wink, as though sharing some kind of secret.
you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought, warmth spreading through you. the idea that buck, through everything, even in the midst of his chaotic life. talked about you with such frequency, it was almost too much to process.
but somehow, it made the weight of the moment feel a little lighter, the hope growing that he’d wake up and that you’d get the chance to hear all of it from him, yourself.
you requested time off, and bobby didn’t hesitate to approve it. he knew, as well as you did, that there was no way you could focus on work, not when your heart and mind were stuck in that hospital room.
so you stayed. you spent your days at the hospital, barely leaving buck’s side. the rest of your life faded into the background. the gym, your job, even basic routines. all of it felt distant and unimportant compared to the need to be there for him.
every night, the nurses gently urged you to leave when visiting hours ended. you could tell they didn’t want to force you out; the sympathetic looks on their faces said as much. they were kind, patient, and understanding, but rules were rules.
each time you left, you were reluctant, your heart aching at the thought of being away in case he woke up. before you’d go, you always leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering a moment longer each time. you’d clasp his hand in both of yours, brushing your thumb gently across his limp fingers, whispering words of hope he couldn’t yet hear.
at home, everything felt heavier. eating and showering became a struggle, but you managed, if only because you needed to be somewhat put together for him when you returned. you’d collapse into bed, trying to drown out the fear and negativity with the faint hope that maybe, when you woke up, he would too.
a week passed like this, each day melting into the next as you clung to your new routine.
on this particular evening, as visiting hours neared their end, you sat by buck’s side again. you clasped his hand, bringing it to your lips briefly before leaning over to place another on his forehead.
and then you felt it, a faint squeeze against your hand.
your breath caught in your throat as you froze, your heart racing. slowly, you pulled back and stared at his hand in yours, disbelief mixing with hope. “buck?” you whispered, your voice trembling.
your heart pounded as you stared at his hand, still clasped in yours. for a moment, you wondered if you had imagined it, if your mind was playing tricks on you after days of exhaustion. but then it happened again, a weak, deliberate squeeze.
“buck?” you whispered again, louder this time, leaning closer to him. tears welled in your eyes as you searched his face for any other signs of movement. his eyelids fluttered, just barely, but it was enough to send a wave of relief crashing over you.
“oh my god, buck, can you hear me?” your voice cracked, and your free hand reached out to gently brush against his cheek. his skin felt warmer than it had in days, and the faintest sound escaped his lips. a low, hoarse groan.
you pressed the call button frantically, your hand shaking as you leaned in closer, desperate to see more. “it’s me. i’m here,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “you’re okay, buck. you’re safe. just keep waking up for me, please.”
the door burst open as a nurse hurried in, quickly assessing the situation. “he’s waking up,” you said, your voice trembling with a mix of joy and panic.
the nurse nodded, immediately moving to check his vitals and calling for the doctor. you stepped back slightly to give them space, but you couldn’t take your eyes off buck. his fingers twitched in yours again, his head turning just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his face. his eyes opened slowly, unfocused but alive.
“hey, there you are,” you whispered, tears spilling down your cheeks as you smiled through the overwhelming emotions.
his gaze drifted to you, his brow furrowing slightly as if he was trying to make sense of where he was. his lips moved, dry and cracked, but no sound came out.
“it’s okay,” you said quickly, leaning closer again. “don’t try to talk. just rest. you’re in the hospital, but you’re safe now. i’m here, buck. i’ve been here the whole time.”
the doctor arrived shortly after, giving you a reassuring smile as they began to examine him. you reluctantly let go of his hand so they could work, stepping aside but never straying far from his side.
“his response is a very good sign,” the doctor said after a moment, turning to you. “we’ll keep monitoring him closely, but it looks like the worst is over.”
you let out a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding, your chest feeling lighter than it had in days. as soon as the doctor stepped back, you were at buck’s side again, taking his hand in yours.
“see? i told you you’d be okay,” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. his lips curled into the faintest hint of a smile, and it was the most beautiful thing you’d seen in a while.
a couple of hours later, after the doctors had left and the atmosphere had settled, it was just you and buck in the quiet hospital room. the dim light from the bedside lamp cast a soft glow over him, highlighting the color slowly returning to his cheeks.
he shifted slightly, wincing, and you immediately reached for the cup of water on the tray beside his bed. “easy,” you murmured, slipping a straw into the cup and holding it up for him. “here, small sips.”
buck obediently took a sip, his eyes never leaving yours. his throat worked as he swallowed, and you felt a wave of relief seeing him manage something so simple. it was progress.
“you scared the hell out of me, you know,” you said softly, setting the cup down once he’d had enough. “you got struck by lightning, buck. lightning. do you even realise how lucky you are to be here right now?”
he blinked, his gaze turning thoughtful. “i remember… the storm,” he rasped, his voice hoarse. you immediately reached for the water again, bringing it to his lips before he could continue.
“here. drink more. don’t push yourself,” you said, your fussing in full force now. you fluffed his pillows, adjusted his blanket, and scanned the machines monitoring his vitals, as if you could will them to show even better numbers.
“you remember the storm?” you prompted, sitting back down beside him and holding his hand tightly.
buck nodded, his brow furrowing. “yeah. i was on the ladder… the flames were bad. i remember hosing them down, and then…” he paused, his eyes growing distant. “a loud crack. bright light. and then… nothing.”
your grip on his hand tightened, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “buck, you were out for a week. a week. they weren’t sure if you’d–” your voice cracked, and you quickly shook your head, brushing away a tear. “but you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”
buck’s lips twitched into a small smile, his hand weakly squeezing yours. “you’ve been taking care of me, haven’t you?”
you scoffed lightly, brushing it off. “of course i have. someone has to make sure you don’t do anything stupid like this again.”
he chuckled softly, the sound weak but warm. “you don’t have to worry so much, you know. i’m okay.”
you froze, staring at him in disbelief. “don’t have to worry? buck, do you even realise what just happened to you? you almost died! you were in a coma! and now you’re telling me not to worry? you’ve got to be kidding me.”
as you ranted, your free hand gesturing animatedly, buck just lay there, watching you with an amused smile.
“what?” you snapped, though there was no real anger in your tone.
“nothing,” he said, his voice soft and laced with affection. “just… you’re cute when you’re like this.”
your face heated, and you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitched upward despite yourself. “you’re impossible, buck.”
“and yet, here you are,” he teased, his smile growing.
you shook your head, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead.
“yeah, looks like you're stuck with me, buckley.”
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© ruewrote 2024.
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matthew things .𖥔 ☁️ ݁ ˖‧₊˚ ⋅🌹
just because seok matthew is AN ACTUAL SWEETHEART oh my gosh i just had to share some hc’s ab him
partially based off my experience attending and performing at kcon LA!
- outwardly he may not enjoy the cute and baby comments made towards him, and he’ll try to dismiss them or change the topic publicly, but he’s totally hiding the fact at how much he loves the attention.
- when he’s alone with you or with close friends he’s the biggesttt softy. you can always tell when he gets blushy because his ears start to turn pink no matter how much he denies it.
- “happy virus” is the perfect dubbed name for him. he’s always looking for a way to make everyone smile. whether it’s through funny jokes, gifts, even embarrassing himself, if he gets a smile from you he’s done his job.
- on the topic of smiles, his is the most contagious thing. (this may be based off my personal experience 👀) you could be feeling any kind of emotion: anger, stress, nervousness, but one look at his bright smile comforts all of your worries.
- separate note for how his cheeks do that lil squish thing when he’s happy OH MY- you get the point.
- LOVES drives with you. idk something about him getting to showcase his biceps while jammin’ out really gets him going. doesn’t care when or where to, but i feel like the atmosphere of late night drives make him feel at peace.
- he’s gonna be respectful when he drives though, mama raised him right 💪🏼 He’d be nervous to reach over to you, no matter how desperately he wants to. It’ll take him a few months just to work up the courage to hold your hand against the gear shift.
- he soooo wants to rest his hand on your thigh but he reprimands himself bc that’s your personal space 😡
- he shows off so unintentionally… at least, he likes to innocently let it on in that way. yk that thing he does where he comments those heartwarming messages, followed by the most gruesome, whore-looking pic? it’s 10x worse when it’s just to you.
- “good morning sweetheart, i hope you rested well! i miss you love, my mind only thinks of you.” and he’s shirtless curling dumbbells 🥴
- acts like a toddler when your separated from each other. you could be going off to work and he’ll stay jumping at the door waving his arms until you’re down the street and out of his sight
- so later when you approach your doorway after a long days’ work, you better believe he’s running up to the door like a puppy just to give you the biggest welcome home greeting.
- confirmed golden retriever 🦮‼️
- he’s a sucker for romance, rom coms’, etc. anything that remotely reminds him of his relationship with you he’s obsessed with. matching outfits, hugs that sweep you off your feet, and those romantic phrases that leave you a blushing mess every time. 😵💫💗
- his pet names can be soo precious. with the way he comments to his fans i have no doubt it isn’t any less special for you. his favorites interchangeably revolve around baby, love, darling- (i can’t write any further i’ll cry).
- pet names with matthew can also be absolutely atrocious though. stink, booger, or some nickname from an embarrassing moment of yours seem very fitting to him. as much as he loves you, making fun of you is one of his top priorities.
that’s all i can write without making it self-indulgent ✌🏼
#zb1#zb1 imagines#zb1 x reader#seventeen woozi#zb1 scenarios#zb1 taerae#zb1work#seventeen#zb1 hanbin#zb1 gyuvin#zb1 jiwoong#zb1 matthew#zb1 ricky#zbrush#matthew i’m actually in love with you oops#matthew seok#seok matthew#seok matthew x reader#matthew zerobaseone#matthew x reader#kpop girls#kpop#seok matthew fluff#seok matthew scenarios#seok matthew smut#seok matthew social media au#seok matthew angst
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Any chance you could talk about how you're teaching Fenris to retrieve? I am also struggling so hard with that. Will probably consult with a real life professional trainer about it in the near future because it is just. So. Frustrating. Lol, but I'd love to hear what worked for you.
Recent picture of my retrieval-hating doggo for tax, lol.
Well I don't know that I'm the best person to take advice from because retrieves are absolutely one of the hardest tasks for me to wrap my brain around, especially formal sport retrieves, and despite me trying to teach retrieves to *checks notes* EIGHT different dogs, Fenris is my first one to actually have some mild success.
I spoke at length to my friend Allie @molosseraptor about how much I suck at retrieves and she had some amazing advice for me. I cannot stress enough how good of a dog trainer she is. Any time I have asked her for advice, she not only has hit the nail directly on the head, but it has widened my understanding of whatever concept I'm struggling with that much more. Truly, if you want actual help, don't listen to me. Just go pay Allie to teach you!
Anyway. For Fenris specifically, retrieve is a behavior chain. In other words, I teach each piece of a retrieve separately, and then let it all come together at the end after he nails every piece the way I want him to. In other words, I taught a sit, a come to front, the concept of going to what I throw and picking it up, the concept of bringing it back, the concept of holding something in his mouth without chewing or dropping it, the concept of the hot/cold game, the concept of a clicker, the concept of working for treats, paw targets, and outs... before ever showing him a dumbbell.
From there it's a matter of string it together. Go get the thing > pick it up without chewing > bring it back > come to sit at front with it in your mouth > hold onto it until I tell you to out. The paw targets help show him where I want him to be. The hot/cold game tells him if I need him to tweak his positioning.
Historically I have been able to get a "go get the thing and bring it back to me and sit at front" however in nearly all of the dogs I have tried to teach this behavior chain, including Fenris, we get stuck in the sit at front portion because the dog spits the fucking dumbbell out and drops it on my toes as it sits down. Which is very not what I want and also these are weighted dumbbells ouch my poor feets.
I brought this up at Mondio last time we were there and the training director and the president both suggested instead of teaching him a chin rest (which I have never been able to do very successfully with the dog uprifht) to teach him to push slightly into me as he sits, lifting his head up to do so (and thus reducing temptation for him to drop the damn thing) and making that front nice and tight. He may bump me and we may lose a point, but I can tweak that part later. This was an almost instantaneous breakthrough and I am really glad those women are counted among my friends.
One last thing I want to mention is that, knowing he was going to be a mondio dog, I did not correct him at all for picking up various things around the house. In Mondio, the retrieve can be anything, not just a weighted dumbbell. So that means that because I didn't want him to be weird about picking stuff that Is Not Toys up, I never once told him off for picking things up. Usually he just wanders around with it in his mouth, and because he never associated this with a bad thing, he usually comes right up to me and spits it into my hand.
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First, “reinforcement” and “punishment” do not mean “good” and “bad” in behaviourism.
When I used to train service dogs, for example, some of the older trainers still used the old-fashioned, no-longer-recommended method of training a dog to retrieve: they dug their fingernails into the sensitive tip of the dog’s ear until the dog screamed, while holding out a dumbbell.
As soon as the dog’s mouth closed on the dumbbell, they stopped pinching the ear.
I refused to use this technique and now, if I were to do so, I would be barred from the Certification Council of Professional Dog Trainers for doing it. But – and it is important to understand this – it is a “reinforcement technique.”
The dog is rewarded for grabbing the dumbbell by the trainer ending the pain.
That makes it reinforcement.
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The Shadows Return | Simon 'Ghost' Riley x OC Retired AU | Chapter 8: Compromise
Summary: Andra wants answers, and Ghost has to choose
Word Count: 6.5k
If this is the first time you're seeing this, Chapter 1 is here. You can find the rest on my masterlist!
Content: slow burn, eventual smut, 18+, fluff, mentions of mental health, mild violence
The clouds on the way home were overcast across the afternoon sky. Johnny left Andra with several things to think over, bringing her back to a familiar train of thought from five years ago.
He gave her the same look that stirred shame in her belly. She didn’t like being on a different level of rationality – or lack thereof – with the people once close to her.
It was declared by the officer that showed up there was no indication of foul play. The possibility of an incompetent and inconvenienced officer being sent to her call was in the forefront of her mind, and also the possibility of any traces of someone’s presence could have been washed away from the thunderstorm by the time they came out to investigate. The whole process of filing the report gave her no peace of mind, but she took the advice of setting up surveillance seriously.
A precautionary that she should have done ages ago.
The quiet, quaint life out on the farm had soothed her troubled worries all of these years, making her forget for a moment what it was like to live looking over her shoulder every moment. She wasn’t naïve, no, she knew how to take care of herself when the seldom case of harassment arose. Andra should have never gotten so comfortable the way she did.
Her foot pressed down heavily on the brake pedal as she waited at a stop light to rub the exhaustion from her eyes. She was just a few more turns from home, she reminded herself. The caffeine she had ingested all throughout the morning was threatening a big crash.
Andra drove slowly down Middleton Lane as she spotted the first right turn to the private dirt road of Ghost’s property. Then her truck came to a full stop. You know what-
Her hand turned the wheel right as her tires skid around the corner.
Andra didn’t know what she was doing, or what she would exactly say to him, but she needed to know what was going through his head.
Andra parked behind his truck and turned the key out of the ignition. She paused for a few seconds to take a breath and gather at least the first sentence that would come out of her mouth.
Her phone vibrated.
I’m in the garage.
Of course Ghost knew Andra had arrived, another sign that she definitely needed to do the same thing to her property. Cameras and motion sensors.
She shut the door behind her as she made her way to the garage off to the right of his house. One of the metal double doors was left cracked open, and she could hear the metal clink of a tool being put down.
The garage was Ghost’s own personal auto shop, with an incomplete classic-looking car taking up majority of the left. The wall was lined with tool boxes, yard tools, and almost a pallet’s worth of army green ammo cans. To the right, a rudimentary gym setup took up another portion of space, with a bench press, a high pull-up bar, seemingly crafted and welded together amateurly, and a rack of assorting dumbbells and plates to complete it all.
Ghost was hunched over the open hood of the car, one hand on the lip of the hood as he kept his attention on whatever he had been working on before Andra’s unannounced arrival.
“Is this your way of letting me know that you’re pushing me away again?” Andra sharply said to the backside of Ghost.
Ghost tossed a tool onto the toolbox on his left side and retrieved a rag, wiping grease from his stained hands. His muscles tensed in his back as he turned to Andra’s direction. “Today has been a really tense day. I wanted to give you some space to come down from last night.”
Andra clenched her jaw. “I don’t need space, I need answers. I feel like I’ve been kept in the dark about something I have no control over.”
“That’s because you don’t.”
She could feel her blood simmering already. Not how she wanted this to go. “I don’t because you never gave me the choice to take control.” Andra couldn’t recognize the person she was talking to. His stare was cold and dark. If his goal was to anger her into cutting her losses with him, it wasn’t going to work. “You didn’t tell me anything because we lost touch the first time, fine, I get it. But you went ahead and told Johnny? That’s what I can’t get passed.”
Ghost trudged out of the garage with Andra following behind him. “He and I had an eye on things. We had it under our thumbs.”
Andra tossed her hands up. “Had what exactly?” Her voice echoed all around them. “What the hell is going on with you?”
He turned back to her, stopping her in her tracks before bumping right into him. Ghost peered down to her, his eyes burning the same heat. “What do you want from me? You want me to take back what I did?”
Her fists clenched hard enough for her nails to dig into her palm. “No, I just want you to stop being such a hard ass and talk to me.” Her carotid artery strained against the muscles in her neck. “Tell me what you think is going on and we’ll deal with it together.”
He flinched as if her hand flew across his face.
“You keep acting like you’re looking for an excuse to push me away, for an excuse to leave.” Andra’s chest rose and fell with a heavy rhythm. “You act as if one morning I’ll wake up and you won’t be here, and you’ll just be a memory for me.”
His eyes squeezed shut as his own breath left him.
“You’ve thought about it, haven’t you? Leaving without another word, taking your shadows with you.” There was a shiver in her voice.
“I have.” Ghost finally answered. “I could leave in a moment’s notice. I’ve done it before.”
Andra didn’t doubt him. She had done it herself, she knew how easy it was to pack a couple of bags and leave. “What’s stopping you this time?”
Ghost opened his eyes to meet hers.
She scoffed and turned away from his silent response. The wind picked up and wisps of her hair flew around her face. She had to squint her eyes at the unbearable overcast sunlight. “I was able to forgive you for cutting me off the first time. I shook it off because there was no expectation for you to keep in contact after fixing my truck. Then you came back, and I thought you wanted me in your life, and maybe we even had something. Cool. Great, even.
“But when you brought up the transpiring events, the person driving up our street and telling me there have been people on my property?” She shook her head. “You think you’re handling this on your own but you’re not. I won’t let you. Either you let me know what’s going on, or you’ve lost my trust.”
His eyes were unreadable when she saw him once more.
Andra reached into her pocket and flipped her keys into her palm, the key ring sitting on her index finger as she clenched them tight. “I’ll see you around, Ghost. If you figure out what you want to do, you know where to find me.”
The screen door smacked the side of the house harder than it should. Andra wasn’t paying attention. Her face still felt hot with anger. Sammy darted outside for her chance to do what she does, leaving her alone in the house.
The air felt thick, charged with energy that wasn’t there when she woke up the morning before. Or maybe it was her mind messing with her. Either way, her house felt compromised.
The tears collected in her eyes out of nowhere, and she quickly wiped them away. This is stupid. She felt ridiculous for letting it get to her. For letting a shattered window re-surface the fear that drove her away to another country.
This was all going to blow over. The tracks in the woods were a random coincidence, the car meant nothing. And the rock flying into her window was just a freakish feat of nature. She’s witnessed some heavy storms in the countryside in her years of living here. It wouldn’t be the first time something has sustained damage on her property, and it was bound to happen again.
“Be kind to yourself.” Andra whispered to herself as she kicked her shoes off, remembering what she was taught in therapy and from self-help reading. However, being kind to herself was proving difficult with the lingering anger from talking to Ghost.
The nerve of him.
But also, the nerve of her. She felt the weight of her corrosive past. An affliction, threatening to dismantle the life she had built. It had to be irrational, she was no one. She wasn’t worth being tracked down, right? That’s the rhetoric she kept force feeding herself. They had succeeded in getting rid of her, she made sure of it. At this point, if anyone wanted to pursue in finishing the job, she would end up burning a hole in their dirty wallets.
And if Ghost was going to play the need-to-know card, two can play that game.
She stopped in her tracks as she walked into the kitchen, catching a glimpse of the black trash bag covering her window. It crinkled and swayed inward and outward with the passing wind. The ever-growing chasm in her chest was making itself comfortable, and she couldn’t stand it.
-----
Ghost knew Johnny would stop calling after the second time he reached his voicemail. The third call in a row told him that he better answer the phone. His heavy hand reached out to the nightstand for his phone, swiped his thumb across the screen and pressed it against his ear, eyes closed. “Yes, sir.”
“You broken, Simon?”
Price’s gravelly voice came through the speaker on his phone, and it was like a splash of cold water on him. It was a question he was familiar with Price asking, except he’s no longer checking for missing limbs or hemorrhaging blood loss. Ghost sat up on the edge of his mattress and rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes. “M’solid.”
“When’s the last time you got a full eight hours of sleep?” Price asked.
Ghost took a quick glance at the time on his phone before returning the receiver to his ear. “I was getting’ rest before you woke me up.” He was only asleep for two hours, and his pounding head reminded him that it had been a restless 72 hours.
Price doesn’t reach out very often. The captain – along with the other lads – will dedicate an amount of time out of the year to catch up with the former task force in person. It was an annual event of spending the holidays doing anything but celebrating Christmas and New Years. When he hears from Price before November, it’s because he’s been tipped off on Ghost’s concerning behavior.
“Soap tells me you’re acting barmy, you think you’re being followed, son?”
There it was.
Ghost didn’t respond for a few beats, his feet felt like lead against the cold wooden floor. “A couple of events transpired, would put you on edge, too.”
He could hear a deep sigh come from the other end of the line, and it had Ghost clench his jaw. “Get yourself to an appointment or a meeting, or I’ll bring the meeting to you.”
Price’s demand sent a wave of guilt and shame through Ghost. The memories of being pulled up off the living room floor and thrown into his tub flashed behind his heavy eyelids. Price, Johnny and Gaz showed up. Ghost reeked of alcohol and piss. They had him hauling bags of sand back and forth from his backyard to the range on his property for several hours, making him sweat and puke the remains of alcohol in his system.
“I’m still sober.” Ghost gritted his teeth. He made Ghost sound like an addict.
Price clipped his words, “See your doctor, and get out of bed for a sweat.”
Ghost opened his eyes to the void of his darkened room and sighed. “I’ll set up an appointment today.”
“Good lad.” Beep-beep-beep went the line as Price disconnected the call.
Sleep had eluded Ghost once more. He sat there at the edge of his bed and rolled his neck, failing to relax the knotted muscles at the base of his neck. His eyes burned, and his headache pressed down on every surface of his skull. He felt an irritation for Price waking him up, but rationality told him it wasn’t his fault.
Since sleep was out of the question, Ghost stood up and peered out the bedroom window. The sun wasn’t due to come up for another couple of hours, but he insisted to listen to Price’s advice. Get a workout in, then when the office opened, call doc to get that appointment.
His feet were heavy as he shuffled to the bathroom. Ghost always looked down to the basin of the sink before turning on the lights, avoiding the reflection staring back at him. He watched as his hands gripped the edge of the counter. Scars littered his knuckles, the skin over bone splitting open too many times for him to count.
It was when he was sick of looking at the reminders of his violence when he slipped and the person he hated stared back with cold, dead eyes.
You’ve tried killing me so many times, but fail every single time. You need me. You need the mask. You need it to hide so there’s never a chance to hurt again. You don’t deserve her. You try and pretend to be someone worthy of a teaspoon of affection, but you’re not what she needs. You’re filthy. You’re-
The glass shattered against his fist as he struck as quick as an asp. He hissed between clenched teeth, cursing as the reached for a towel and covered his bleeding knuckles.
If one thing was for certain, his reflection was right.
He didn’t deserve her.
-----
Andra flipped closed the back end of the book and placed it on her blanket covered lap to rub her tired eyes. Every night she would read The Operators when it was evident she wouldn’t be getting peaceful rest, or when something had her jolting awake. She had no clue how many hours she had slept in the past couple of days; definitely not enough to keep her from loading up on caffeine and making her debate breaking her years of being nicotine-free.
She could hear the roosting of her birds out in the coop. Andra leaned her head back against the headboard and sighed. There wouldn’t be time to try and fall asleep. Her day had to start.
After the morning chores, Andra headed inside for another cup of coffee. She stared out of her newly replaced window, out into the distance. It was hard not to; it was as if something – or someone – was going to come storming out from the brush and trees. All remained quiescent in those groves, as logic would have it.
The rattling sound of her plastic phone case vibrating against the countertop broke her focus. She swiped her finger across the screen and pressed the speaker button. “What’s up, Johnny?”
“I need to ask a favor.”
His voice was hushed and the words were muddled like he had the phone pressed against his mouth, and she could hear the workings of the auto shop in the background.
“I need you to go check on Ghost for me, he called out of work this morning.”
Andra felt her chest and throat tighten all at the same time. Johnny wasn’t aware of the fallout between her and Ghost from the sound of it. Or if he did, he must be extremely concerned for Ghost’s silence. I figured he would be used to it by now… she thought bitterly. “You need me to go immediately?”
“Take yer time, a mate of ours reached him this mornin’. Just pop over there when you get a chance. Gotta go, text me.”
The line went dead before Andra could say bye. She released a heavy sigh after taking her first sip, her fingers tapped against the countertop as apprehension churned in her gut.
Maybe Ghost took their last conversation as motivation for him to actually leave.
Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes, and she rubbed them away with her thumb and index finger, pushing her fingers together to pinch the bridge of her nose. She didn’t want their relationship – friendship – whatever they had, to end on that note. Fuck, I messed up.
She took a deep breath to regain composure. You don’t know if he’s gone. Andra decided she would go by after her run to the post office to pick up her package. With a quick rinse of her empty coffee mug, she headed to the front door to collect her keys and purse.
The sound of gravel crunching and a vehicle engine made her pause in her tracks. Her heart raced, she could feel her adrenaline dump. Her shaky hand moved aside the curtain to look out the window beside the door, and the sight of Ghost’s truck had her releasing a heavy breath.
It took everything in her not to throw the door open and run to him. She took another grounding breath and unlocked the door, opening it to Ghost preparing to knock.
Andra swore her heart was going to burst. The look in his eyes mirrored the same surprise she displayed. The discernible presence of a bandage wrapped around Ghost’s hand caught her attention in the corner of her eye.
He noticed where her eyes fell to, and shoved it in the pocket of his jacket. “You got a minute to speak?”
His voice sounded like sandpaper. He looked just as sleep deprived as she felt. Andra couldn’t say anything, so she just nodded. She closed the door behind her and opted to sit on the wooden bench, leaving a space for Ghost to sit beside her. He never did, instead he decided to lean against the railing, his ankle crossed over the other.
Seconds passed before anything was said. “I’m not good with words, you’ll have to bear with me.”
Andra folded her legs beneath her and clasped her hands together. Her eyes remained on him as she waited to hear him out.
His head tilted down. “I gave a lot of thought to what you said, about losing your trust.” He rolled his neck, rolling the nerves and giving him a chance to think. “And I realized, taking a bullet is far less painful than that.”
Andra could see his adam’s apple bob in his throat underneath the fabric of his mask as he tilted his head back with closed eyes. She felt her throat tightening, and had to swallow to relieve the ache.
“So, I’ve come to terms with if I want to mend what I had with you, I’m going to have to find a way to tell you what you need to know.” Ghost’s eyes found hers, searching for a response.
She gave him a subtle nod, letting the words sink in. “How are you going to do that?”
Ghost uncrossed his ankles and took the two steps to sit beside her. It was a struggling few seconds for him to begin speaking. “Did you ever pick that book back up?”
Andra was confused by the approach he was taking, but went with it. “Yeah, I finished it actually.”
"Did the author talk about some of his assignments?" Ghost asked patiently.
She recalled what the author was able to talk about and reveal. "Not specifics, but he went in detail with Selection, and then the training thereafter and some events that happened in the 80s in Northern Ireland."
He nodded as he listened. "What did the training entail?"
"Physical training, a lot of sleep deprivation, weapons and vehicle tactics, photography, interrogation..." Andra's words drifted as she continued her recollection. She wouldn't say this out loud, but it was a dry read.
Ghost cut in at the mention of the last topic. "Interrogation, okay." His shoulders rose and fell as he let out a deep breath, and his hands flexed over and over. "I've been on both ends of being interrogated. Not just in training, but out on the field." His red-rimmed eyes aged several decades, and her chest grew heavy. "And there were times the bars and stars – officers that outranked me and my team – had ordered us to let go of the person we had just roughed up.
"They were dangerous people, Andra, do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
Andra was piecing together why Ghost had given her that book to read. It was more than just what was on the surface. The selection process, the training, the assignments, the images in the book illustrating the teams with black lines redacting their eyes. It occurred to her then when she was reading it all, Ghost was another one of the SAS operatives that had an alias, he had paperwork with his name on it that contained redacted information on what he and his team had accomplished, but now discussing it all solidified it for her.
Not only him, but Johnny as well, and Johnny had brought up a few other names. People that were also special forces.
It was sobering. She never took the time to sit with all of this information and come to terms that these men had enemies that went deeper than just being from differing nations. Enemies that may or may not still be alive out there, preying on the downfall of the men she had come to know.
“Has anyone ever found you or Johnny?” Andra asked with a tremble in her throat.
“No.” He answered definitively. “And I would like to keep it that way.”
Andra nodded, as she fully agreed with him.
Ghost leaned back against the bench. “I truly never intended to alarm you and bring you to endless conclusions. I wish I could take it back, my foolishness, everything.”
“You can’t help that, though.” Andra defended. “It was a really messed up chain of events.”
There was a pregnant pause. “I have moments like these when there are too many coincidences happening at once. I’ve been working on how I handle it.”
Andra turned to him. “Do you… talk to someone about it?” She felt hesitant to ask.
Ghost’s eyes slid back to her. “Does that bother you?”
She shook her head swiftly. “No, oh Gods, no I didn’t mean it that way.” Her hands covered her face for a moment. “That was wrong of me to ask.”
Ghost reached for one of her hands. “You have every right to know, doll.” The calloused pad of his thumb brushed the top of her hand. She could feel a tremor in his touch.
It would have warmed her heart had it not been for the churning contrite souring her stomach. He had every right to know, too, but how would she even begin to tell him?
His injured hand was holding hers. She took this opportunity to distract herself from the guilt eating at her. “What happened to your hand?”
“Ridiculous accident with some glass.” He answered too quickly. Andra could feel him wanting to recoil, but he continued to let her hold his hand. Her peripheral vision gave her a peak of Ghost studying her face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look exhausted.”
Andra let go of his hand and rubbed her eyes. “I really haven’t been sleeping. Every little noise wakes me up, and I lay there for hours.”
Ghost’s eyes turned serious. “What can I do to remedy that?” Andra started to shake her head. “No, I’m responsible for this. Name it, I’ll do what I can.”
“I was actually on my way to go pick up a security system I ordered from the post office.” Andra raised her hand with her set of keys jingling.
Ghost stood from the bench, Andra followed in suit. “That I can do.”
Her smile returned. If it was one thing Andra was certain about Ghost, acts of service was how he communicated his apologies. It was easier to demonstrate with his hands than words.
After picking up the hefty box of camera and motion sensor equipment, Andra worked around the farm after her and Ghost discussed where the best places to set up the cameras would be. He got it done in less than a few hours, giving them time to pick up food together.
As they traveled, she remembered Johnny was waiting for an update from her.
Ghost is fine, we’re picking up food.
“So, you read the book in the past three days?” Ghost asked to start up chatter. Look who’s talking more now.
She hummed. “I read when I can’t sleep, and found it sitting there on the table before I locked up for bed.” Andra glanced at him. “What do you do when you can’t sleep?” Her phone vibrated with a response.
Thank you.
Ghost shrugged. “I lay there hoping I fall asleep.”
“I would get so bored.” Andra confessed, tapping her hands on her thighs. “You don’t even scroll through Netflix or something to try and turn your brain off?”
“I don’t have Netflix.” He responded.
Andra shook her head and blinked. “Remind me to give you my login.”
“I don’t watch TV or movies.”
Now she was looking at him like he was crazy. “You’re lying. You’re a liar.”
He rolled his eyes. “I do watch movies, but they’re all old war movies or westerns on DVD.”
Andra narrowed her eyes. “What are you, fifty?”
Ghost chortled. “I have a while before I hit fifty, thank you for that.”
“How long is a while?” Andra smirked. “Five years or six months?” His mouth opened, but she kept going. “Wait, I bet you have M.A.S.H. all on DVD, don’t you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with M.A.S.H.” Ghost defended.
“Yeah, when you’re as old as my dad and watching it on your days off as you doze on the living room couch at eleven in the morning.”
“You’re pushing your luck, doll.” Ghost warned with a grin in his voice. “Let me put it this way, I joined the Royal Air Force after the events of 9/11.”
Andra’s face went slack and her eyes were as wide as saucers. She turned to the passenger window with a hand pretending to scratch the side of her head and wondered if he would be weirded out if she told him she was in grade school during 9/11.
Her silence was loud in the cabin. “We’re not that far apart in age if you know M.A.S.H.” Ghost resumed.
Andra raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you saying I look old?”
“No.” His accent thickened as his voice dropped. “I didn’t say that.”
She was having too much fun busting his chops. “We have a tad bit of an age gap,” she demonstrated with her thumb and index finger with a small gap, “I’m a ninety’s baby.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Three years is a tad of an age gap, not a whole decade.”
Andra rolled her eyes. “Is this what I have to look forward to in my thirties?” She laughed at the flash of astonishment as he panned a look at her. “I’m kidding! Well, kind of, but I’ll be thirty next summer.”
Ghost smoothed his hand over his covered mouth. “You’re killing me, woman.”
“Best stay on top of those heart meds then – ooh!” Andra shot forward and was caught by her seatbelt from Ghost slamming the breaks harder than normal. “You’re gonna cause an accident, sir.”
After a few beats of silence, Ghost changed the subject. “I hope the camera system will give you some peace of mind.”
“I’m sure it will.” She nodded with a hopeful smile.
Ghost ran inside the chip shop they ordered from while Andra sat in the truck to keep it running. Her head tilted back onto the head rest as she stared up at the roof of the truck. The lack of sleep was catching up to her, and now that there was less of a problem with surveillance around the farm, she felt the muscles in her shoulders relaxing.
The sudden sound of the driver door opening had her jerking back awake. She attempted to cover up the fact that she had dozed off in his truck with a little stretch of her legs.
Ghost handed her the bag of food without noticing her brief second of sleep and drove back to her house.
-----
“I get why you go to this place.” Andra spoke in between eating in the living room with him. “It’s not bad.”
“It’s also because Johnny has been getting us discounts from his little girlfriend.” Ghost wiped his mouth with a crumpled napkin.
Andra looked over the app on her phone that connected her to all of the cameras on her property. The feed looked really good, giving her confidence that she could point out important details if she ever had to. She switched to the camera that aimed at the dirt driveway with both trucks sitting outside. Her thumb and index finger spread across the screen to utilize the zoom feature; she was able to read off the license plate numbers from each truck.
“Thank you again for setting up the cameras.” Andra locked her phone and placed it down on the coffee table.
Ghost covered the lower half of his face back up with the balaclava as he finished his own meal. “Thank you for letting me.”
Her heart fluttered at the sudden drop in his voice. His eyes were set on her when she turned to look at him. Despite not being able to see his expression, she could feel a softness in his brown eyes.
“Let me get these out of the way.” Ghost insisted as he began to collect the takeout containers. Andra sucked down the last of her drink in her Styrofoam cup and tossed it into the bag Ghost was using.
Andra slipped a hand in the back pocket of her jeans. “You staying for a little while?”
“I can.”
She felt some relief for having to spend less time by herself for the evening.
While Ghost did his thing, Andra browsed her bookshelf in search of a new read.
“Anything interesting?” Ghost asked as he returned.
Andra chose Dune from the shelf. “Maybe.” She returned to her designated reading lounge chair and curled her legs up. “How far did you get with The Outsiders?”
Ghost scratched the back of his head. “Maybe the first fifty pages.” Then, he tilted his head. “How did you know I had it?”
Andra smirked. “It was gone the following morning after you left.”
Did she have him flustered? The indecisive glance to the couch and back to the front door then back to the kitchen was amusing enough to have her grinning.
“I have it in the truck, actually. Be right back.” Ghost made his way outside, letting in a kissing, chilly breeze.
It must have been the book she chose, or the way she receded back into the cushions, but she felt the wave of sleepiness return back. Or maybe it was Ghost’s presence, knowing he was only a few feet away on the couch with Sammy next to him. He emitted an aura that Andra could only classify as comfort. Safety.
She knew he was safe to fall asleep around, she knew he would keep her safe.
Andra flinched out of the sleep she was slipping into and let out a disappointed sigh. Her book was still in her hand, but the pages were damp from the warmth of her fingers holding them in place. She closed the book, not worried about where she left off because she wasn’t paying attention anyway and softened her movements as she looked to her right.
Ghost’s head lulled to one side from the upright position he fell asleep in, his arms crossed over his chest and his own book sitting on the table with Sammy resting in her own bed by the window. The heavy breath he suck in and released told her he was deeper in that sleep than she was.
How is he sleeping with the mask on? Andra wondered.
With light movement, Andra rose from her chair and padded quietly to the hallway closet to retrieve a blanket. He looked as tired as she felt halfway through the day, and she wasn’t about to wake him up and send him home. She unraveled the blanket and moved to lay it over Ghost just above his arms and below his collarbone.
But his awareness was more keen than Andra had anticipated. Ghost reached out, throwing the blanket off and swiped her wrists single-handed. The room went spinning, and she let out a small yelp as her back met the bottom cushions of the couch, his grasp securing her wrists above her head.
Ghost’s eyes were wild with alert, then widened as he realized who he just wrestled down. It startled her at first, but out of nervousness a chortle escaped. Then a chuckle, and confusion wrinkled Ghost’s eyebrows.
She probably looked insane to him. She was supposed to be frightened, but all she was was dizzy. And too aware of how his body hovered over her. The grip on her wrists eased up but remained there. Her giggles dissipated, along with whatever she was about to say. She was too absorbed by Ghost’s eyes darting all over her face, and she wasn’t too sure, but she was almost certain he kept looking to her mouth.
Before Andra could register what she was doing, she pressed her lips against the teeth of the skull pattern on his mask, hitting her mark as she felt his lips beneath. Ghost pulled away like she had put his hand in an open flame, his eyes widened. Oh shit, what have I done –
His empty hand shoved up the fabric of his balaclava and he smashed his mouth against hers. Heat blazed through her face, molten liquid flooding her core as she took in every sensation overwhelming her. The fierce hunger of his kiss. The friction of their bodies pressed against each other. The solid grip Ghost had on her wrists.
She couldn’t get close enough to him. Her leg attempted to hook around his waist, but only succeeded in wrapping around a thigh that nestled its way between her legs.
He couldn’t pull himself away, and instead fed the part telling him to nudge his knee where she wanted it. Ghost freed her hands to grip the thigh pulling him in, giving her free reign to cradle his stubbled jaw. His fingertips worked divots into the fabric of her jeans, earning a small sound from her tightening throat.
Andra hoped there would be marks later left where he was squeezing.
Her tongue slipped out between her lips and playfully swiped across his mouth. Oh fuck, the sound that just came from him… Andra had never heard arousal so delicious before.
All of Ghost was crashing through her like a freight train. His taste, his heat, his sounds. Her head felt like it’s been shoved underwater, and she has no intentions surfacing for air. Not when drowning in all of him felt this good.
Ghost reciprocated her invitation and found his tongue pushing through the slit of her lips. She felt her own arousal winding tightly in her warmth. Anything more was likely going to set her off. There’s no way I’m coming just from this, she cursed herself.
Ghost pulled away, hit hot breath fanning over her face. He moved his free hand to his mask, but it remained there. One second, two seconds. His mouth slackened into a frown, lips parted with labored breathing. The trance had been broken between the two. He retreated from where he had Andra pressed into the couch, his hands ran down his face and stayed there as he battled with himself.
Andra adjusted her shirt as she sat up and gave him a nudge of space. “Hey,” she softly said as she brought his hands down, cradling them in her own. “You don’t need to.”
“I want to.” He rasped, breathless from their kiss. “I don’t know why, but I can’t.”
“It’s okay.” She took his hand away from his face and stroked his knuckles with her thumb.
Ghost blinked a few times like he was waking up from a dream. “I shoved my tongue in your mouth.” He stated, a little too forward. His words had heat rushing to her face. “The least I can do I show you who is beneath this.” He gestured to the mask covering half of his face, a bitterness in his words directed to his disguise.
Andra slowly raised her hands to the bottom half of his revealed face. He flinched away from the contact, but settled as she let her thumbs brush against the stubble on his jaw. She made no subtle movements; just exploring the craters and slits across his skin.
Ghost watched her silently, attentively, his eyes flickering back and forth. She can feel the intensity, a man questioning the intentions of the woman touching him, holding the privacy and secrecy he clings to. He sucked in a breath as she took hold of the balaclava and didn’t exhale until Andra had pulled it back down over his face.
“If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.” She affirmed.
His bandaged hand brushed Andra’s disheveled hair behind her ear. Ghost leaned in and pressed his covered mouth against her forehead. Andra gave him a meek grin as he pulled away.
Andra felt this moment building up to a goodbye, but she took his hand again. “You can stay here for the night. I don’t want you driving back even if it’s just down the street.”
He reached down on the floor and picked up the blanket. “If that’s alright with you, I’ll take up the couch-”
“Sleep on a bed, for gods’ sake.” Andra nodded her head to the stairs. “I have an extra room upstairs.”
Thankfully, Ghost didn’t argue. Heavy feet dragged themselves up the stairs, Sammy following them both. They took pause as both turned to each other from across the hall. There was so much she wanted to say, but the brief, drowsy goodnight that was exchanged had them retreating into their respective rooms. Andra leaned against the closed door, clouds in her head and lips swollen with the phantom sensation of their catalyst.
:)
I've started up a taglist! comment if you want to get tagged for this story 🖤 likes & reblogs are wholeheartedly appreciated, your engagement helps new readers find me ✨
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x oc#call of duty#call of duty mw2#cod mw2#ghost cod#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#mwii#retired au#simon ghost riley x oc#ghost x oc#simon riley#cod fanfiction#cod fanfiction fluff#cod fanfic#slow burn#cod fluff#call of duty smut#cod smut
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Let's focus on something else. Am I the only one who finds it absolutely hilarious that Brisket is so small? You'd expect Glen to get a bigger dog, but nope, he adopted the smallest pup he could find. Big men with small dogs got me rollin'. 😂
Every time I see Brisket I get so happy! (And this from a big dog owner- my heart to my boo boo bear Emmie ❤️🐶😔❤️)
Poor Brisket being used as a dumbbell is always my favorite.l 🤣
Glen himself is like a giant golden retriever so I totally get the big dog vibes from him! But luckily for us we get this cuteness on our feeds!!!
#glen powell#top gun maverick#glen and brisket#glen and brisket summer#and now brisket and glen winter#brisket powell#brisket the dog
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food request if possible ? :3
im a golden retriever therian and im looking for something to simulate dog treats- many people suggest cookies n stuff but they are too sweet.
any recommendations? :)
TREATS TREATS TREATS
Reccs under cut
Okay. Cookies are sweet right. But lots of dogs eat these weird savory cookies. Well you can too! With Thyme and Cheese Shortbread cookies!
Meat sticks are a good choice too. Like a dumbbell
Jerky is obvious! Get western style if you want something tough like a rawhide
You can also always get human grade dog treats.
#sam bites#therian#therianthropy#otherkin#alterhuman#therianthrope#alterhumanity#nonhuman community#nonhumanity#dog therian#dog kin
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Midnight Beach
Part 3
Request: Yes or No
~~~
"My mom thinks that I did it even though there's no way I could've. I mean, how? It's always my fault, no matter what. She just- she just wants me to be this little robot that just checks her boxes. You know what I mean? SAT prep? Oh, check. Serving food at the shelter? Check. I mean, I literally do everything she wants, and I'm sick of it!"
If (Y/N) had known he'd been invited to the Thornton household just to listen to Topper rant for half an hour about his mother and her distrust in him, he would've made a million excuses to avoid the hangout. But Sarah had made her wishes for him to get along with her friends clear and to please his girlfriend, he accepted the invitation. And now, he suffered the consequences of that decision with a dumbbell in hand and a random hip-hop song blaring from Kelce's speaker beside him.
"Well, we know who did it, right?" Rafe spoke up with a scrunched face, lifting and lowering the barbell in his hands. His green tank top clung to his sweat-covered body and he was forced to squeeze his eyes shut every few seconds when beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and toward his eyes.
"It was that little geek Pope," Kelce affirmed, setting his own barbell down and swinging a leg over the bench to face Topper.
Releasing a breathless chuckle, Topper nodded and clenched his jaw, eyes darting over to the Cameron. "Pope, right... Hey, Rafe, maybe if you wouldn't have jumped him on the golf course, I'd still have a boat."
"You jumped Pope? Pope Heyward? The kid who can't even hurt a fly? Why the fuck would you do that?" Setting his phone and dumbbell aside, (Y/N) stood up from the bench and stared at the three with deep frowns. Rafe silently continued his reps though the way the corner of his lips twitched into a smirk made irritation roll over (Y/N). Topper turned his glare onto him and scoffed.
"Man, when the hell are you gonna be on my side? You think you're better than us?" He snarled, shoving past Kelce and nearly colliding his bare chest against's (Y/N)'s if it weren't for Kelce pushing his arm between the two and disapprovingly shaking his head.
"Sometimes, like now. Last time I checked, Pope only comes here to deliver groceries and you jump him for doing his job?" (Y/N) scoffed. "That's pathetic, Topper."
"They put a fucking gun to my head, (Y/N)!"
"That wasn't Pope! That was JJ!" (Y/N) snapped at him, raising his voice to match Topper's enraged one. "But you're not gonna go after JJ, no, of course not. JJ knows how to fight. You'll go after the one who doesn't like trouble because you-" (Y/N) jabbed a finger in Rafe's direction. "-know JJ can throw a mean punch."
"You calling me weak?"
"You know what, Topper? Yeah, I am-"
"Alright, alright!" Rafe called out, letting the barbell fall to the floor with a loud thud. He stepped over it and lifted his arms, wrapping them around the boys' shoulders and lightly shaking them. "Listen, we're all Kooks here, 'kay? We're brothers! Sometimes that means being honest with each other, even when we don't like it." Rafe said, lifting his brows at Topper. The younger teen huffed softly and childishly looked away from him. "But, it also means sticking up for each other, even when we're mad. Those Pogues disrespected all of us, not only Topper. They put a gun to his head and stole from Ward. And by sinking Top's boat, Pope proved he's just as bad as the others."
"Whatever beef you two got over Sarah, squash it now. The Pogues are the real enemy." Kelce piped in, resting his hand on Topper's shoulder and raising his brows at him. Topper stared at Kelce for a moment, jaw slowly unclenching and shoulders sagging. Exchanging a look, Kelce and Rafe released the two and stepped away, retrieving their bottles and heading upstairs to leave them alone.
Inhaling deeply, Topper scratched his cheek. "Listen, man... I-I've liked Sarah for a while now and when I heard she wasn't dating Denny anymore... I thought it was my chance. And when she suddenly got with you..." Topper trailed off, pressing his lips together and dropping his gaze down to the ground. Sighing, he stuck out his hand and lifted his head. "Can we be good? For Sarah, at least?"
Part of him desperately wanted to say no, especially after hearing what they did to Pope Heyward. The war between Kooks and Pogues had gone on for too long and the ones who egged it on were always Kooks. But rejecting Topper Thornton could result in him being outcasted as they had done to Kiara. And the last person anyone could ever want to be the enemy of was Rafe. So, swallowing down his opinions and some of his morals, (Y/N) took Topper's hand and nodded.
"We're good." He muttered, dropping Topper's hand as quickly as he had taken it but it seemed to pass unnoticed by Topper. "And sorry to hear about your boat. I'd be fine putting some money in for a new one or somethin'." He added, watching a smile spread on Topper's face at his words.
Wordlessly, he stepped forward and swung his sweat-covered arms around (Y/N), pulling him into his equally sweaty chest. "Thanks, man. I appreciate it."
"Yeah, of course," (Y/N) crinkled his nose and grimaced. "Don't mention it, Top."
✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽ ✽
Pressing the power button on his phone and looking down at his lock screen, (Y/N) frowned at the lack of messages from Sarah. While Sarah could occasionally be forgetful, she always responded to texts, especially when she had nothing to do. With a soft sigh, he swiped on the screen, typing in his pin before sending Sarah another text. He stared at the message, waiting for it to be read but when it remained unseen, he shut off his phone and sighed again, noticing Kelce watching him out of the corner of his eye.
"You are so whipped, man." He whispered teasingly, snickering under his breath.
"At least I have a girlfriend."
The smirk on Kelce's face immediately dropped and he whipped his head toward Topper when the teen cackled loudly. "Focus on the road!" He barked.
"We're already here!" Topper laughed, pulling into a parking spot and shutting off the engine.
Opening the door, (Y/N) could hear an announcer over the speakers and the chatter of people as they gathered to watch the annual Summer Movie Series. He followed the boys toward the vendors, looking around for any sign of his bubbly girlfriend in the crowd. When he couldn't spot her in the crowds of people, he dug his wallet out of his pocket and approached one of them.
"Can I get a coke?" He fished out some money and slipped his wallet back into his pocket, taking another glance around and spotting a familiar brunette walking toward him. Kiara flashed him a smile and waved.
"Long time no see."
"How have you been, Kie?" (Y/N) asked, looking back at the vendor and exchanging the money for the coke before turning toward her. Kiara let out an awkward chuckle and pushed back a curl, shrugging her shoulders lightly as she looked back in the direction she had come from, likely searching for her posse.
"Same old, same old." She answered. Before she could throw the question back at him, an arm slipped around his shoulders and he was roughly pulled into someone's side. He didn't have to look to see who had joined them as the irritated look on Kiara's features told him enough.
"Kie! Good seeing you!" Rafe greeted with a toothy grin.
"Hmph." Kiara took a step to the side, attempting to walk around them but Rafe quickly stepped in front of her, dragging (Y/N) along with him and making him stumble slightly. Kiara clenched her jaw and lifted her head to meet Rafe's eyes, raising her brows in question.
Leaning in, Rafe whispered, "Tell your boy we know what he did."
"Sorry, what boy are you talking about?"
"He'll know."
"Alright, come on." (Y/N) muttered and wrapped his arm around Rafe's waist, dragging him away from the girl and toward Topper and Kelce. Upon reaching them, (Y/N) dropped his arm and opened his can, bringing it to his lips and drinking as Rafe pointed out Pope and JJ to Topper. When Kiara sat back down with them, the two boys whipped their heads around to look back at them with wide eyes.
"We'll get them alone. Eventually." Rafe quietly said, grabbing (Y/N)'s can from his hand and bringing it to his lips. When (Y/N) reached for it, he tilted his head away from him and kept the can out of reach.
"How about we watch the movie and get back at them another day?" (Y/N) asked, digging his fingers into Rafe's side until he doubled over with a grunt and snatched his can back. But his words went in one ear and out the other.
"Come on, let's grab some seats and wait. They'll have to use the bathroom eventually." Topper pointed out, keeping his gaze locked on the two Pogues. Kelce nodded in agreement and approached some unoccupied chairs, plopping down on one and watching the other three follow suit. (Y/N) sighed heavily and sunk back in his chair, hoping the Pogues were smart enough to remain in their seats until the movie ended.
But after a few hours, the Pogues proved to be less bright than (Y/N) had hoped for. The two stood up and attempted to scurry across unnoticed, heading toward a tree beside the screen. (Y/N) held his breath for a moment when the three Kooks remained seated but when Topper perked up, he released it and sunk deeper into his chair.
"They went off to the screen."
"You and Kelce go around that way," Rafe instructed, pointing to the other side of the screen. "(Y/N) and I will go the other way." He rose from the chair, grabbing (Y/N)'s arm and dragging him up from his seat. His quiet protesting went ignored by Rafe as he pulled him along with an iron grip that would surely leave bruises in the next hour. They reached the tree as the two friends went to return back to their seats. The two flinched and JJ remained in front of Rafe, blocking him from reaching his friend. Pope turned around and hurried over to the other side of the screen, stumbling and nearly falling when Topper and Kelce blocked his path.
"That was some nice work ya'll did on my boat."
"I-I don't know what you're talking about." Pope stammered, looking between the four of them whilst JJ looked between the four of them with clenched fists.
"Not so burly without a gun now, are you?" Rafe challenged the blonde, finally releasing his grip on (Y/N)'s arm and chuckling.
"Take one more step and I'll rip that prepubescent face off." JJ sneered in return and stepped toward Rafe, his eyes flickering over to Kelce and Topper in case they swung at Pope.
"Let's not do this here, guys. There are kids here trying to have a good time." (Y/N) attempted, stepping between JJ and Rafe and raising his brows at Rafe. The Cameron met his eyes and for a brief moment, (Y/N) swore he saw Rafe considering it. But Topper's voice filled the air with venom.
"Do you feel good about yourself, Pope? Is your mom proud of you? Is your dad-" Before Topper could finish, Pope leaned back and then suddenly lurched forward, headbutting Topper hard enough that he stumbled back.
"Jesus, fuck my life." (Y/N) whispered with a wince, peeling himself away from Rafe and attempting to check in on Topper. "You good? Let me see, Top-"
"I'm fine!" Topper huffed, straightening himself up with a slowly bruising forehead as Kelce charged at JJ with Rafe. Pope swallowed and faced them, lifting his fists and swinging when Topper went at him. (Y/N) found himself in the middle of a pointless fight. Pope and Topper went at each other whilst Kelce restrained JJ so Rafe could repeatedly punch him in the gut and face. One Pogue very blatantly needed more help than the other.
"Rafe! That's enough!" (Y/N) called, glancing back at Kiara as she quickly got involved in the fight by swinging her backpack at Topper. Letting out an irritated groan, (Y/N) managed to grab a hold of Rafe's collar and pulled him off the beaten teen before shoving Kelce off and catching JJ as he stumbled forward. The blonde groaned in his arms and weakly pawed at him, smearing some blood on his shirt from his nose and bruised lip. Brushing back his messy hair, (Y/N) attempted to get a look at his beaten face. "Hey? You with me?"
"Who's side on you on?"
"They're fucking outnumbered, Kelce! Why not make it even when John B is around and make it fair?!" (Y/N) shouted back at him, feeling JJ drop his head down on his shoulder and groan again. (Y/N) turned his attention onto the screen when it was suddenly covered in flames, causing Topper to release his chokehold on Pope and jump back. Kiara stepped back from the screen with a lighter in hand, her widened eyes turning to look at the damage done to her friends.
"Come on!" Rafe urged, pushing Topper forward with a laugh and looking back at Pope as he gasped and rubbed his neck.
"Shit, I'm sorry." (Y/N) breathed, grabbing JJ by the shoulders and pushing him back gently to steady him on his feet. When he felt assured JJ wouldn't fall over, (Y/N) released him and scooped his hat off the floor, handing it back to him and glancing at a coughing Pope. Kiara gave him a thankful nod and helped Pope to his feet.
"Why did you help us?" Pope wheezed, lifting his arm and wrapping it around JJ's shoulder to keep him close.
"Same reason anyone else would." (Y/N) replied, looking back at the Kooks. The three made distance between themselves and the lit screen, glancing back at him every so often. Pursing his lips and letting out a heavy sigh, (Y/N) ran a hand over his face and turned back toward them, already hearing the tantrum Topper would definitely throw at him for helping the Pogues. "Don't do anything stupid again. Rafe isn't exactly someone who cares about putting you guys in the hospital."
"Thanks," JJ muttered, spitting out some blood and snickering when Kiara made a disgusted noise.
"Don't make a habit of it." (Y/N) replied with a small smile and turned around, heading back towards their seats and getting his belongings. Turning on his phone, he noticed a text from Ward but none from Sarah.
'I've been trying to reach Sarah. Is she with you?'
(Y/N) felt his stomach twist and he dug his teeth into his bottom lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
'Yeah. Her phone has low battery. I'll tell her to call you when it charges.'
With Ward's response, (Y/N) set off toward his neighborhood. The cool air felt nice against his warm skin still flushed from the fight. His thumb ran back and forth over the side of his phone, hoping to feel it vibrate with a message from Sarah telling him she was fine and safe. Bombarding her with texts wasn't his usual go-to, but something felt different. An uneasiness settled in his chest and he couldn't shake it off. A million thoughts raced through his mind, differing from worries about her well-being to suspicion. Infidelity wasn't new to Sarah Cameron. And that knowledge kept him on edge. He tried his best to shake it off and continued on home.
The next day, (Y/N) woke up fairly early into the afternoon to prepare for the annual Midsummer's party. Ward had gotten him a new suit for it and it'd been, in his words, a thank-you gift for keeping Sarah happy. It'd been more than his own parents had ever given him. The suit was a light olive color with a white shirt underneath and a beige bowtie to go along with it. But no matter how much he tried, just looking at the bowtie made his nose crinkle. So, he yanked it off and hoped Ward wouldn't notice.
Checking his phone, he noticed the messages he'd sent Sarah the previous day had been seen but she'd given him no response. He pursed his lips and sighed, closing his eyes and trying to remember if he'd forgotten any special day or done anything that could warrant being given the silent treatment. Absolutely nothing came to mind. Their anniversary wouldn't come for another couple of months, any birthdays had been celebrated or hadn't arrived yet, and there'd been no holidays to remember. Everything... had been fine.
"Whatever.." He sighed and tucked his phone away in his pocket, grabbing his keys and leaving the house. He got into his jeep and turned it on, reversing out of the driveway and driving down the street. Most cars on the road headed toward the golf resort where the party would take place, seeing as half of Figure Eight had been invited to watch the Camerons be crowned for another year in a row. The parties typically lasted well into the night and the punch ended up spiked by either Rafe or another mischievous teen. Boring stuff most of the time. He mainly went to please Sarah. Always for Sarah.
By the time he arrived, the workers were finishing setting things up. Floral designs and decorations hung around showcasing primarily summer flowers. Music played through the speakers and workers invited guests in with their best smiles. (Y/N) took in a deep breath and walked inside the cool building. A few guests greeted him politely, asking about school and his well-being. Their sympathetic eyes only told him they spoke to him out of pity, to feel better about themselves when they treated him kindly to his face and gossiped behind his back. Ever since his parents had left the Outer Banks, everyone either viewed him as a deformity or glass that could shatter at any moment.
"Hey, man!" Topper greeted him casually, clapping his shoulder and giving him a toothy grin.
"Top-"
"No hard feelings for yesterday." He squeezed his shoulder. "We get it. You're like a pacifist or whatever, it's fine. It's cute, really."
"Right. Good to hear." (Y/N) pushed out through gritted teeth, letting Topper guide him outside. The sun shone brightly on the land as it began setting, nearly blinding (Y/N) when he stepped outside. It took him a moment to properly see everything. Flowered vines had been wrapped around the pillars and decorated the small tables. The women all wore flowers on their heads, either through headbands or woven into their hair while the men wore plain suits. Same as every year.
"There's your girl." Topper shook his shoulder and forced a chuckle. Turning his head, he watched the Cameron family walk through the doors with wide smiles plastered on their faces. Sarah walked alongside her parents, looking stunning in her long white dress. (Y/N) shrugged Topper's hand off and walked forward, catching Sarah's eye. She paused and inhaled deeply, glancing at her family before stepping away from them and approaching him.
"Hey." She greeted, her smile looking far too fake for his liking.
"I texted you yesterday-"
"I know. I saw." She raised her brows, a frown tugging at her lips. "It was a lot."
"I was worried, Sarah. If you'd just sent an emoji I would've let it be." (Y/N) replied. Sarah refused to look at him for long, crossing her arms over her chest and looking around the event. She looked upset, irritated even. Maybe he had done something. His shoulders sagged. Shit. "Are you mad at me or something?"
"Why would I be mad? Should I be?" Sarah's eyes flickered back to his. He stared at her and after a brief pause, she looked away from him and shuffled her feet. Her teeth caught her lip and she sighed heavily, taking his wrist and leading him through the crowd into an area more private. Anxiety clawed at his gut.
"What happened, Sarah? Did I do-"
"We're done. It's over." Her words cut through him like a knife. Her lips pressed into a thin line and she shrugged her shoulders, hand lifting to toy with the ends of her hair. (Y/N) waited for a playful smile and a laugh. A sign that it'd been a cruel joke. Sarah only stared at him. She didn't even look sorry. She didn't even look sorry.
"Why?" A sense of deja vu washed over him. His mother had that same indifferent look in her eye the last time he'd seen her. The day she'd mentioned she'd be getting on a plane and wouldn't be returning for a while. She'd been so casual about it. So unbothered about what it'd do to him.
"I don't want to be stuck anymore." Anymore. "I feel suffocated by everyone. I-I feel like I need to be with you, to stay with you. Ward and Rose keep talking about marriage and grandbabies a-and I haven't even finished high school yet. I don't want that. I don't want this life. I don't want to be sitting on a couch ten years from now raising babies I don't even like while drinking the rest of my days away. I want the freedom of doing whatever I want, you know? Being with whoever I want."
"Who is it?"
"What?"
"Who caught your eye now?"
Sarah stared at him, her thin brows furrowing slightly. Her eyes flickered between his, having the audacity to look hurt. Pursing her lips, she looked down at her feet and lightly kicked up her dress. "John B. We... We were out together yesterday. We kissed."
(Y/N) wanted to laugh. Or cry. He couldn't really tell. Cause of all people on the Outer Banks, she'd chosen John Booker Routledge. The same thief she'd been complaining about only days prior for smacking a bag of lettuce out of her hands and getting in her face. The same guy that ran from the cops on a near day-to-day basis and sat on his ass all day drinking. At least his friends worked. At least they had some moral code. He'd been off mooching a Kook while they got jumped.
"Okay." He nodded and took in a deep breath. She'd chosen someone already. Fighting it wouldn't matter now. "I'll see you around."
"That's it?" She questioned, blinking in shock when he walked past her and kept walking. She said a few things after that, none that he heard once he slipped inside the building. There was no use searching for beer or wine. None of the workers would let him even walk near the available adult drinks. But he knew where to look.
He found Rafe pretty easily. The eldest sibling made no attempt to hide his flask when he drank from it, only turning his back to the guests when he wanted a sip. (Y/N) made a beeline for him and took the flask from his hands, taking a big gulp from it and wiping his lips as he handed it back. Rafe smirked at him and slung his arm around him, tucking the flask away and tilting his head. Topper and Kelce exchanged equally confused yet amused looks.
"What's the occasion?"
"Sarah broke up with me for John B." The three boys tensed and looked at each other with widened eyes. The oh-so beloved couple of Figure Eight. The high school sweethearts that were supposed to be together forever in some made-up fantasy. Rafe's grip on him softened, fingers starting to rub gentle strokes against his arm.
"Fuck..." Kelce drawled out and stepped forward, patting his back and giving him a tight-lipped frown. "Sorry to hear, man."
"For John B?" Topper repeated with a scoff, the tip of his ears and cheeks flushing. His hands curled into fists and he grumbled under his breath, looking more pissed than sympathetic. Go figure. (Y/N) blew a raspberry and leaned his head against Rafe's shoulder.
"Shit happens. Wouldn't be the first time I got dumped out of nowhere."
"At least Liv dumped you for a Kook chick. Sarah did it for a goddamn Pogue." Kelce cringed.
"Liv was nicer about it too." (Y/N) murmured, watching Rafe slip the flask out of his coat and offer it to him again. (Y/N) shook his head and pushed away Rafe's wrist with a grimace. Getting wasted at Midsummer was the last thing he needed. The last push for Figure Eight to look at him as an outsider.
"We got you, brother. We're not gonna let this incident slide now, are we?" Rafe looked up at the two and raised his brows. Topper immediately shook his head, finger running over his bottom lip in thought. He muttered a quick excuse and stepped back, disappearing into the crowd. Grunting softly, (Y/N) peeled himself from Rafe's side and shook his head.
"No need for that-"
"On your right, Rafe. 2 o'clock," Kelce said and (Y/N) turned sideways, spotting him in the crowd with ease. JJ Maybank. Dressed up as a servant and slipping a note to Sarah. Rafe chuckled lowly and patted (Y/N)'s arm, tucking away the flask and grinning at him.
"We got you, (Y/N). We'll show these Pogues who they're messing with."
"Rafe-"
"Dad, hey! (Y/N) needs to tell you something." Rafe called out to Ward and (Y/N) grunted, turning around to face the older man. Kelce and Rafe quickly slipped away, leaving (Y/N) to speak with Ward while glancing back at them. He winced when they blocked JJ's path and called over some other Kooks while backing him up to the building. JJ took his chance and darted into the building, prompting the rest of the guys to chase after him.
"What's up, (Y/N)? You need something-"
"Sarah and I broke up. It was mutual, don't worry. We just decided we'd be better off as friends and everything is okay between us. I have to go now." (Y/N) blurted out and flashed his best smile, but before he could go off to check on JJ and the others, Ward caught his arm and let out a small surprised laugh.
"Wait a minute, son. I... I'm sorry to hear that. I truly didn't see this comin'." Ward shook his head lightly and smoothed out the wrinkles in (Y/N)'s suit. He smiled warmly at him and sighed. "High school has a way of catchin' you off guard sometimes. I'm glad things between you and Sarah are fine. I just hope you know you can still come to me for anything. We're here for you, alright?"
"Thank you, Mr. Cameron."
"You can still call me Ward."
"Thank you... Ward." (Y/N) returned the smile and slipped away from him, trying to keep his pace quick without drawing attention. Heading inside the restaurant part of the building, he spotted the rest of Rafe's friends slipping into the men's locker room down the hall. When they didn't step back out, (Y/N) quickly flagged down one of the security guards and told him about a fight in the room. The security guard gave him a thankful nod, speaking into his earpiece and heading down to the locker room. Relief flooded him when the security guard dragged JJ out of the bathroom, keeping a tight grip on him as he escorted him outside.
Slumping down on an empty chair, (Y/N) ran a hand over his face and let out a heavy sigh. So much for having a good summer.
#x reader#x you#x y/n#x male reader#sarah cameron x y/n#sarah cameron x reader#sarah cameron x you#sarah cameron x male reader#sarah cameron#outer banks#outer banks x reader#outer banks x y/n#outer banks x you#obx#obx x reader#obx x male reader#obx x you#outer banks x male reader#topper thornton#rafe cameron#obx kelce#pope heyward#kiara carrera
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My week has finished out with more just bleh feelings about training. Just a pity party down below so nothing important
I am stopping doing any training on retrieves with Ryker. I will give him a month or so off and see if I can start it again after, if not maybe it will have to wait until he gets out of adolescence. He shuts down the moment I grab the dumbbell or the PVC I had been using, or if I say "take it".
He is really really handler sensitive. Which is a bit surprising and I am really going to have to learn to adapt. Aayla is a little handler sensitive, but not like this. It makes things so frustrating and then I spiral down and things are just hard.
I think this is getting compounded by the fact that I'm seriously debating retired Aayla from obedience. Her avoidance to sitting at the last trial just has me worried about her hips. She DOES do no-sits when feeling stressed or there is too much pressure. Which the judges were doing a lot of pressure during the whole weekend. Yet the amount she was refusing to sit was embarrassing and has me worried its physical pain versus stress.
We got 0 utility Qs and therefore 0 UDX legs and her two qualifying open runs had such poor scores she got 0 OM points. The whole weekend did not progress her to those titles I want her to have...and I would like to retired her from AKC sooner than later. Maybe I should just give up. Getting her UD was amazing and she has had fantastic runs, but I am not going to trial her for two more years to get those titles.
I also decided Aayla will not do anymore agility. I had thought maybe the ASCA senior ACE program would be okay, but if she is struggling in obedience there is no way I'm making her do any agility.
I always thought I would go back to AKC rally after I stopped having her jump 20" for obedience but if sitting is bothering her than rally isn't fair for her to do either. That's a lot more sitting.
She isn't ready to retire from training or sports, I know it. She is getting upset more and more if I don't work her when I'm working Ryker but I'm getting to this point of what can I have her do that isn't asking her to do things that possibly hurt? Do I work her because it makes her happy and accept if she says no? Will she say no? I doubt it, unless it really hurts.
I'm going to be taking her into the vet within the next few weeks, might get some hip x-rays and ask about adequan and anything else we can maybe do.
I hate this. So much. It's breaking my heart. I worry that her body is going to give out on her long before her mind is.
#keep in mind that aayla is happy and mostly fine#she isn't limping#she isn't acting like its painful for most people to tell#I can tell she is moving a bit stiffer and a little different#and she is refusing to sit#yet she hikes and plays and demands to play tug and harasses rebel daily#i'm just weighing my ethics of training and trialing in sports#she wants to work#she wants to train#also ryker is just being a teenager#he has had some brilliant moments this week#yet I also worry about his hind end#so he also needs to get into the vet for an evaluation
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Retrieves.
First is the dumbbell and the second and third are my keys. Jump is set to 20 inches. Working for the beloved piggy.
I love him so much. He's always all in on whatever I ask of him. Can you bring me the thing and go over this jump? And his answer is yes with enthusiasm.
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a moment's thought
Bart Allen. Mia Dearden.
Dogs. Synthesizers. Scars.
2196 words.
(ao3.)
Bartholomew Henry Allen II made a trip to the Pacific Northwest, to a loft just south of Downtown Seattle in the Industrial District.
The place was mostly gray with sturdy metal beams embedded into the exposed brick walls. The unit consisted of two floors, the larger living room and kitchen area, and placed above that the ‘bedroom’ accessible by a flight of stairs. Additionally, there was a large bay window overlooking the living space, and even with the curtain pulled over it one could still hear the sound of the storm outside.
The weather of the Emerald City was as dreary as one could expect — rain with a side of cloudy skies and rushing winds, so much so that the droplets outside were hitting the building sideways.
But Bart wasn’t there to admire the lovely ambiance of the Pacific Northwest. In fact, he had made the trek all the way to the city to do a task that involved a computer, several monitors, and an absolute labyrinth of wires underneath a desk.
As Bart laid on the floor to better access the computer cables, the owner of the loft was going through her usual routine.
Unsurprisingly, Mia Dearden had fitted her home with a variety of fitness equipment. Alongside some parallettes, kettlebells, and dumbbells, she had hung a pair of wooden gymnastic rings from a load-bearing beam in the unit’s living room.
With a weight vest strapped to her torso, she went through her workout — apparently under the belief that normal rings muscle-ups were not difficult enough.
While Bart played the part of IT Guy and Mia exercised like an absolute unit, the third resident of the loft was currently asleep.
Teddy the sixty-pound pitbull mix — or Viscount Theodore of Dearden, as his master liked to call him — napped on the couch like a giant potato. Despite possibly being the most muscular doggo on the west coast, he was surprisingly lazy. He didn’t even perk up when Bart suddenly sped into his master’s home.
After finishing her final few muscle-ups, Mia let go of the rings and landed on the floor with a distinctive thump. As she wiped a bead of sweat off her brow, she looked over to the speedster currently fixing her computer.
“How’s it looking?”
“You need some cable organizers or something,” Bart said, remaining under the desk like a mechanic would with a car. “There’s like… eighty-five of ‘em down here.”
Mia walked over to grab her water bottle from the coffee table. “Yeah, sorry about that, I haven’t had time to sort that out.”
“Meh… I’ve dealt with worse,” Bart assured, shrugging. “You should see Wally and Linda’s computer set-up, it’s like… cable hentai.”
Being under the table when he spoke, Bart missed Mia’s reaction to his comment, which involved an expression that was equal parts confused, appalled, and horrified.
After shakily taking a sip of water, Mia eyed her big black pittie mix on the couch. Teddy was currently napping on his back, his face and legs twitching slightly as he drifted deeper and deeper into doggy dreamland.
Amused, Mia watched as her dog began spasming more and more. Knowingly, she spent a few more seconds watching, then promptly became a witness to her dog moving so much that he fell off the couch. He landed on the floor with all of the grace of a holiday ham. It was true that the bigger they were, the harder they fell.
Viscount Theodore of Dearden was suddenly awake. With his eyes open, the dog looked around in shock, seemingly sensing that something strange had just happened.
“Take a tumble there, Viscount?” asked Mia, amused.
Teddy shook his head like a torpedo, his ears flapping as he did so, then began wandering the loft, as per usual.
As Mia hopped up to the gymnastics rings again, Bart continued his task of setting up the computer, which still boiled down to organizing the mess of cables underneath the desk.
Eventually, Bart finally retrieved the other end of the HDMI cable and plugged it into her PC. After booting up the ‘Big Black Box’ — as Mia liked to call it — the Speedster felt something nudging his leg.
After shuffling his upper half out from under the desk, Bart sat up to see Viscount Theodore of Dearden sniffing his ankle.
With a soft smile, Bart reached over to pet the pittie on the head. “Hi, Puppy.”
As Mia finished her final set of weighted muscle ups, Bart sat down in her swivel chair and scooted over to her desk. Sure enough, all three of her monitors lit up, as well as the RGB lights and the liquid cooling unit of the PC.
With her workout finished, Mia let go of the rings and dropped barefoot to the floor. She undid the straps of her weighted vest and let it drop down, then walked over to her desk in the corner of the living room.
“How’s it looking?” she asked, pulling up a chair to sit next to him.
“Everything seems to be in order,” Bart noted, leaning back to let Mia type in her password. He then proceeded to chuckle upon seeing Mia’s wallpaper, which was fittingly a high resolution photograph of Viscount Theodore making the doofiest expression known to dog-kind.
“Nice set up you got here,” he remarked with a grin.
“Yeah, found these in a thrift store for a friggin’ steal,” Mia explained, gesturing to the multiple monitors on her desk. She then began rummaging around her space until she found a small thumb drive. After plugging it into her PC, she opened the file explorer, which then showed her an abundance of folders all sorted by dates and times.
Upon seeing the near endless amount of data, Bart blinked. He hadn’t expected such a tiny drive to carry that much information.
“So… what do you need all this for?” he asked with a nervous voice.
“I’ve been tailing this trafficking operation for months,” Mia explained as she went through the various files.
Upon opening one of the folders, Bart was quick to learn that each and every one of them contained various text logs organized in chronological order. Each message had been sent with an off-the-radar mobile app, one that required more than ‘Incognito Mode’ to get access to.
Such an app was often used by wealthy folks trying to remain untraceable in their dastardly deeds, as each message was quickly erased after being read. But unbeknownst to the users of the app, a plucky blonde in Seattle had just the right connections to ‘unerase’ certain things.
Bart whistled and ran his hand through his hair. “Damn, that’s some dark web shit right there.” He leaned in to get a better look at the screen. “What are they trafficking? Drugs? Weapons? Uh… worse?”
“Weapons,” Mia answered. She began organizing the files by each week they were sent. “Just a bunch of dudes trying to get some AK-47s onto US soil. I got a hunch they’re not planning to take ‘em to the local shooting range.”
Bart hummed as Mia kept up her role as an amateur sleuth.
As always, his mind began wandering and eyes began looking around. He spent a few seconds looking at everything surrounding her monitors — from the top-notch speakers to the framed photograph of Mia and her brothers, from the half-empty bottle of ibuprofen to the newspaper clipping commemorating the time Speedy saved a beloved Seattle dispensary.
Next to the keyboard was a carton of coconut water, several plastic broadheads, a folding knife, and a phone with a cracked screen.
The sight of the damaged tech was enough to make Bart’s heart skip a beat.
“Oh, lord in heaven! Your poor screen!” he exclaimed, clutching his chest for dramatic effect.
“It’s not mine,” Mia assured, keeping her eyes on her monitors. “I stole it off one of the goons and they were dumb enough to not disable it remotely.” She grabbed the busted phone and turned it on, proving to the speedster that it did in fact work despite the multiple cracks.
“I get every text they do,” she explained. “Helps make this investigation faster.”
With a smile, Bart tapped his finger against his temple. “Ahhh, galaxy brain.”
The sound of Mia typing and Viscount Theodore licking his crotch filled the space of the loft. Once again, Bart’s eyes wandered, at first focusing on the calloused hands of his teammate, then noticing the scar tissue on her skin. Suddenly worried, he glanced up to notice the various discolored blemishes all over Mia’s arms, then came to the realization that these were just the ones he could see.
Bart couldn’t remember Mia having this many scars. He wondered if she had accumulated them during her time in the Emerald City, after she had made the announcement that she wanted to have a heroic career of her own.
After giving it a moment’s thought, Bart then came to the realization that Mia had only been operating in Seattle for six months.
Mia’s eyes glanced over and caught Bart staring, prompting the speedster to look away and act like there wasn’t an endless amount of concerns rushing through his head.
“You should come by Titans Tower more often,” the speedster said, for once navigating a conversation with tact. “We could really use you down there.”
Mia leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “I dunno, I think Tim’s all the detective you’ll ever need.”
“Well, Tim’s either busy as shit in Gotham or about to collapse from sleep deprivation, so we could always use another sleuth,” Bart explained in a tone that sounded more joking than serious. “Plus, we like having you around.”
Mia said nothing as the words settled into her. Had Bart’s attention not been caught by another thing in Mia’s loft, he would have witnessed the look of nervous confusion that came upon her face.
Across the room was a table holding various items, things that ranged from spare bow strings, more plastic broadheads, and random PC parts. What had caught Bart’s attention was the gray analogue synthesizer, a metallic contraption reminiscent of the 80s complete with knobs, an attached vocoder, and three octaves worth of piano keys.
“Whoa! You got a Microkorg?” Bart exclaimed as he zipped over to the table. He turned on the instrument and immediately began pressing the keys. “Sweet! I play drums, we should start a synth-pop duo!”
Suddenly a lot less uneasy, Mia stood up from her chair. “It’s just a hobby,” she explained, making her way over. “I bought this on Craigslist, thought it’d be fun.”
With Mia at the helm, she turned one of the instrument’s knobs and began pressing on the keys. A dreamy, chime-like timbre began playing from the device. She pressed the middle C note, then the 4th and the 5th, then a minor chord and a major.
As the archer played a few more notes and adjusted the synthesizer’s knobs, the sound of falling rain outside mixed with the glassy, ambient tones of the instrument. At one point, Bart even leaned over and began pressing on the higher keys. Mia let him, watching as he took to keyboard playing like a duck to water.
“What are you doing tonight?” asked Mia as she played around with the synthesizer’s pitch wheel.
“Not much,” Bart answered like it was nothing. He continued playing with the instrument as if it were the easiest thing in the world, even managing to figure out the built-in arpeggiator. Perhaps this synth-pop duo idea of his wasn’t that farfetched.
“I mean, there’s this big party going on at my college, but some of the frat dudes are like… very weird,” he started, shrugging once more. “Like, one of them called me a beta and I don’t think that had anything to do with the frat. Another called me a soy boy and like… I prefer cow milk, y’know? So… no, I’m not doing anything.”
Mia blinked, then slowly took in the fact that she was never going to get those few seconds back.
Soon, Bart stopped tapping on the synth and looked to his friend. “Why do you ask?”
“Well… I was thinking that I worked up quite the appetite and would like to grab some dinner…” Mia stated, trailing off with a mild nervousness to her voice. “...and I was also wondering if you’d like to join me.”
Bart let out a chuckle, then gave her a pleased, boyish smile. “Hey, I’m always down for food.”
For a moment Mia appeared relieved, then managed to return his smile. “Sweet, lemme just grab my coat.”
Mia turned and took a single step, then immediately stumbled. She was quick to catch herself, planting her hand on the nearby table to keep herself on her feet. Bart looked on, confused, and wondered if perhaps Mia’s leg day was a bit too demanding.
With an awkward chuckle, Mia turned to look at Bart with a sheepish look on her face.
“Uh… can I tell you something else?”
Bart nodded. “Of course.”
“I took an edible two hours ago and I think it’s finally kicking in.”
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Famously I am absolutely terrible about teaching retrieves and also famously mondioring has retrieves in it
Therefore you all should be proud of baby boy who not once not twice but THREE TIMES came to front, sat, AND held the dumbbell in his mouth until cued to let it go instead of dropping it on my toes as he popped his butt down
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If the Sabnock family still has a bit of lion in them, do you think they would ever have some form of urge to sit in boxes when they see one or try to knock over things on the edge of tables
Like Sylvia making her very own box castles just to sit in them
Or Sabro looking at a dumbbell that he's set on the table and thinking "mm yes, knock it over" and now he has to explain why the floor has a huge ass dent in it. (no tootsies are harmed in the process)
In the end those two gives off more golden retriever vibes than cat vibes but you know... thoughts
#m!ik#yuno rambles#what are lions but big ass cats#Bet that Allocer himself isn't free from this either#he's going to look at large boxes that he can fit in and go “No... I have a reputation to uphold....” then proceeds to sit in it anyway#thoughts were thunk#now that I wrote all of this I kinda want to draw it out
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