#emoting with us better? its in the inner eyebrow so they can do puppy dog eyes. did you know wolves lack that muscle?

[jackals-ships]

attempting to do art that's Only digital for the first time in. a good while and y'know what it's kinda hilarious being able to do lineart and stuff traditional but the moment i pick up my phone my hands are o7 on it boss <- forgot what a line is

anyways there IS. a vision here. it's in there somewhere it's just Fucking Hiding From Me-

[straydawg-writing]

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖊𝖙-𝖒𝖊-𝖓𝖔𝖙

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ.

• bungo stray dogs series

chapter 2: 𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 — 𝖍𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍

✥ ⊱ ────── ♔ ────── ⊰ ✥

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

┊ ┊ ┊    ✫ ˚✩

┊ ┊ ✫

┊ ┊

┊ ⊹ ☪︎⋆                        

✯ ⋆

˚✩

"SORRY TO BREAK IT TO YOU princess, but calling yourself a vegan because you don't believe in hurting animals and then killing 240 men is just stupid," chuuya scowled down at kita's tofu burrito, utterly repulsed by its contents.

"wrong! take any cow that you want and it'll still be a thousand times better than any person I've killed. the human race is corrupted beyond saving, chuu." she said, booping the tip of his nose.

in an attempt to vanquish the pink tint threatening to color his cheeks, he scoffed.

"you're psychotic."

chuuya liked to pretend he was some kind of macho man, the type who worships meat and builds a shrine for his rib-eye steaks adorned with a single leaf on top, but he never failed to come to their lunch meet-ups with a fully decked out salad. out of thoughtfulness for kita, she'd never know.

kita's gaze drifted from her tofu burrito to a boy strolling past their table. bandages wrapped all the way up his arms like vines, and shaggy brown hair fell over his eyes. a coat he didn't wear properly was draped over his shoulders, catching in the wind as he walked. she didn't recognize him.

"don't tell me that annoying prick caught your eye," chuuya grumbled, following her gaze.

"you know him? why haven't i ever seen him before?"

"that idiot follows the boss around like a lost puppy dog. it's pitiful," he spat out, casting glares at the mystery man. "you're better off staying away from him."

kita wasn't sure why the red-head seemed to hate him so much, the boy surely didn't hold himself in a way that suggested he blindly followed another's lead. he gave off a certain aura when he walked, like he was... untamed. maybe even a little dangerous. she couldn't help casting curious glances at the bandaged boy until he turned around, dark brown eyes meeting with her own.

"oh frick," she said through her teeth, sending him a small smile instead of looking away. she wouldn't be found acting all shy and embarrassed now that he had caught her in the act of staring. "he saw me. no way, is he smirking right now?"

chuuya was too busy sending venemous daggers at the teasing boy to hear her, when kita realized he hadn't directed the smirk at her at all. his attention was fully centered on taunting chuuya, and chuuya alone. they seemed to have some kind of rivalry she hadn't been let in on, and now she just felt like a third wheel.

"i don't even want to know."

grabbing kita by the arm, chuuya pulled her away from the table and in the opposite direction from the man, who was now innocently waving goodbye. she was forced to abandon her tofu burrito.

"trust me, i wish i didn't know that suicidal maniac either. unless you enjoy being around an idiot all day," he muttered, strands of red hair trailing behind him as he fast-walked away from the boy.

"but i hang around you, don't i?" kita joked, pulling chuuya back to slow him down and face her.

"stupid.. if you ever try comparing my idiocy with that brat again, I'll make you regret the day you ever did it." he cracked an almost invisible smile as he hit her upside the head, though not hard at all. he would never be the one to hurt her.

-

starlight cast a shimmering glow on the lush garden, creating a dream-like atmosphere. kita treasured her time here, as it became a reverie from the harsh realities and pressuring stress that the mafia demands. the floral garden has become the place she spends most of her time at, second only to working in the field.

white gravel crunched lightly under her shoes as she walked down the path, lit up by the scattering fireflies. the delightful little things loved kissing the rich blossoming flowers as they flew by, making sure not one of the flowerets missed their light.

white and orange koi fish danced by her feet as she reached the pond. they sent small bubbles up to the surface to greet her, in hopes she had breadcrumbs to spare. what kita did not expect to see was a man sitting on the other side of the ledge, one that had been overwhelmed by the wild vines some years ago. he was captured by the black velvet sky, unbothered to glance her way.

"hello," kita said, in an attempt to break the silence. he didn't so much as look at her, only humming lightly in response. she took that as an invitation to step closer and discover who it was that had snuck into her garden, only realized by the delicate white bandages wrapping his arms.

"oh, you're the one chuuya hates!" she blurted, recognition flashing across her face.

"and you're the girl who couldn't look away, aren't you~?" he teased, finally facing her. the light of the moon illuminated his features, and now she could, at last, get a good look at him. despite his playful tone, it was impossible to get a read on his emotions. he looked at kita with half-lidded eyes, like he was too lazy to find any importance in his being alive there.

"yeah, that's me," she responded, unphased.

it's true that she couldn't tear her gaze away from him before. he had caught her curiosity like a hook, and now she was set on discovering just who the boy was. kita had a talent for sensing another's loneliness. it took one to know one, and right now, that's the only thing she knew about him. even now, she couldn't look away from his enchanting, outcasted eyes.

he looked slightly taken aback by her straightforward answer –especially when she had lifted herself up to sit next to him– but he quickly regained his composure.

"chuuya kind of hates everybody. so aside from being one of the dozens of people he's banned me from... who are you?"

a comfortable silence fell between the two as she waited for his response, the only noise being a low breeze that softly flowed through the leaves of the weeping willow tree watching over the garden.

"what meaning is there in who i am?" the boy asked, letting out a breath he seemed to have been holding in, stretching his arms out in front of him in a manner that was a little too casual for the question he had just posed.

"everything has meaning. even the flowers in this garden have meaning."

he sent her a raised eyebrow, kita taking it as a challenge.

"what, you don't believe me? i'll prove it to you," she said.

pointing to a single white flower growing in the midst of a rose bush, she continued, "that small flower over there means, 'devotion and courage.' it dedicates its entire life to represent its meaning. don't you see?"

"i don't see it."

"then i'll show you," she grabbed his hand, and pointed it in the direction of the flower.

"in its own way, the edelweiss is making a courageous sacrifice by growing in that bush of thorny roses. it's devoting itself to protect the small white bud next to it, and without it, the flower bud would be left vulnerable to die. i'd call that meaningful."

"you see the purplish ones over there? they mean truth. but the orange ones next to it mean deception."

the boy was listening now, letting her have complete rule over his hands. she used his fingertips as pointers to identify all sorts of flowers and the meaningful relevance behind each one. truthfully, the night air had made them cold, but the warmth of her delicate hands on top of his brought both of their inner temperatures to a comforting match.

"and what about those?" he questioned, moving to point both of their hands at a cluster of blue flowers.

"these ones are saying, 'true love memories. do not forget me.'" kita smiled, reaching over and picking one by its stem.

"ow! ow ow ow ow," she whined, holding out her finger. "i forgot they had thorns."

"let me see." he held her bleeding fingertip to where it was visible in the moonlight. without any warning he pressed his lips to her wound, nearly kissing the redness away. when she sat there frozen, he dropped her hand with a satisfied smirk, lips now tinted scarlet.

"what the- you couldn't have just spared a bandaid?! it's still bleeding," kita yelped in a delayed reaction, pulling away to cradle her small injury.

"should i do it again?" he asked, tilting his head and holding a finger to his chin.

"no! i don't even know your name."

"aww, well in that case~ you can call me dazai! and your name?"

"kita. just kita."

dazai. she finally had a name to remember him by. she was glad, dazai seemed to be in a better mood from when they had first met thirty minutes ago. shaking her head, she looked back up at the night sky and let her ebony hair fall loosely behind her.

it seems she'll be sharing her garden with another from now on.

｡✣✤✥━━━━━━━━━━━━✥✤✣｡

❝𝚁𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶❞

1:05 ──♡────── 2:53

   |◁ II ▷|

— ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴀɴ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ

ᴀ ꜱɪɴɢʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ

ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜɪɴɪɴɢ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ

ɪꜱ ᴀ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ʟɪᴇ ᴏɴ ʙᴏʀʀᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇ?

｡✣✤✥━━━━━━━━━━━━✥✤✣｡

author's notes: i have some big plans for this story! hope you guys enjoy!! if you have any specific requests for the story lmk and i'll add em!

[strongsassysexysloane]

I Should Hate You

I was in a mood. Feelings come out and this was the result.  . . . . . . . 

"That was a mistake." As soon as the words left Jack's mouth, she instantly saw the dagger leave her lips and stab you in the chest. She couldn't do this. It was too easy and that scared the hell out of her. The last time she fell this hard for someone her heart got ripped out and stomped on and she wasn't going to go through that again. She'd built this life, this wall and she couldn't let anyone in but you'd managed to slide in between the cracks with your sweet smile, flushed cheeks and soft touches.  

"If that's how you feel." You whispered, you wanted to bury yourself under ten blankets, hell, one hundred blankets wouldn't even help at this point. She was lying naked in your bed, breathing deeply, it had only been minutes from the most amazing sex you'd ever had. It wasn't even the high of the orgasm that had you feeling so blissful, it was the connection, the emotion you both shared, you connected so deeply at least that's what you thought.  

. . . . . Hours Earlier . . . . .  

The night had started out like any other Friday night after you'd wrapped up the current case and went out for drinks with the team. Jack had walked in at the perfect moment as she usually did and you couldnt help but ask her, almost beg her, to come along as she was clearly not in the mood for drinks. She'd been busy all week, dealing with several different investigations plus helping Vance with the quarterly evals had her swamped. She had mentioned earlier in the day when you caught a moment with her, in her office, that she had a bottle of Shiraz waiting at home with a nice hot bath that her name written all over it. But she couldn't resist your puppy dog eyes and she stated that, out loud, which gave you an extra pep in your step when you left the office. She'd called you out on it, so had Ellie but you didn't care. It worked.  

Gibbs left after one drink, claiming his boat had been neglected enough this week and none of you challenged him. McGee joined him, saying he wanted to spend time with his family and there was no arguing with that. After they left the drinks kept coming and the laughter, flirts and long glances became more and more obvious between you and Jack. Once Jack left to buy another round of whatever you were drinking, you'd lost track at this point, Ellie and Nick couldn't help but state the obvious.  

"You two are totally into each other!" Nick bounced in his seat, he was too preoccupied with whatever was on his plate this week to notice that your flirts with Jack had been very obvious. Even Ellie told you on Wednesday night that Gibbs was starting to notice but something had changed in your attitude to not care. If he had an issue with it, he'd tell you or just glare at you. Either or you didn't mind. You really liked Jack and she seemed to like you too.  

You watched Jack at the bar chatting with the bartender before you turned back to reply to Nick's comment and look at Ellie's smirk. "Think the alcohol is helping a lot." You shrug and watch as Jack walks back to the table. She was sitting on the opposite side of the booth, beside Ellie, before she left but now, she slipped in next to you which the close contact caused you to clear your throat. She handed you your drink with a smirk. "Perfect." You hummed; your eyes heavy from the alcohol but looked at Jack while you took a long swallow of your beverage. Her eyes didn't leave yours; she even had the audacity to flick her tongue out and dampen her lips while looking you directly in the eye.  

"Well, I don't know about you Nick but I think this'll be my last drink. We have goat yoga in the morning. You can't get out of it this time!" Your eyes left Jack's once you placed the glass back on the table and watched as Nick was contemplating arguing with his partner but you could see he was beyond tired and couldn't argue even if he wanted to.  

"Fine.” He took a large sip, emptying half of his drink in the process. "We really need to find a more enjoyable thing to do on a weekend." He saw everyone's eyebrows raise at his statement and you could see the regret and laughter in his eyes.  

"I go to a kick boxing class whenever I have a Saturday free and can be motivated to get up early enough. It's actually quite close to your goat yoga class." Jack hums, seeing the panic on Nick's face. You laugh at his panic now trying to think of a good excuse to get out of that suggestion because you could see Ellie was about to jump all over that idea.  

"I've always loved boxing. Did it for a while when I was at the NSA to let off a bit of steam when I couldn't think straight. Stopped classes when work became less routine at NCIS." Her lips twitched, showing her frustration about the loss of stress relief. You knew she had a small punching bag at her apartment for the really bad days but always said having a sparring partner was best. You never wanted to be on the other end of her bad days so you managed to get out of it up until now. Now it looked like it was time for Nick to pick up the mantle. He looked as pleased about it as you were the first time she asked.  

"But isn't the class like females only or something? Wouldn't be fair pairing a woman against a man. The difference in-" He stopped all too late when he looked around at the woman glaring back at him, waiting for him to really put his foot further into the hole he'd just dug with his words.  

"Oh, please continue Nicholas. Difference in?" You choked on your drink with Jack's words and venom behind them. You may be all drunk but this wasn't going to go away as quickly as Nick hoped it would.  

"There's clear muscle difference between me and Bishop?" He tried, he so tried to make it sound better than it did. You almost felt sorry for the guy now sitting beside the angriest woman in the bar.  

"Only muscle with a have difference is our tongues and mine knowing when to shut up. We are going to this class and I'll show you that your tight shirt and toned abs has no difference from mine and how I use them." You winced at her attempt of a comeback. It had its points but the alcohol definitely hindered its impact and delivery.

"Your tight shirts and abs?" Nick smirked but it faded quickly.  

"If you noticed." Ellie's quick wit was on point tonight and you coughed down your drink. Jack's hand came up and patted you on the back, the light taps sent electric shocks to your system but what had you sit up straighter was that her hand never left once you stopped coughing. It rested on the small of your back, her fingers curled around your hip, keeping her hand in place. You watched Ellie as she downed the rest of her drink and got up, splaying out her hand for Nick to take.  Nick downed his drink quickly.

You watched as they walked out of the bar, hand in hand with no care in the world. You wondered if they were going back to Ellie's place together but that thought was far from your mind when Jack's hand moved slightly and her body shifted more into your side. You leant into her sudden movement and she relaxed against you once more.  

"You want a refill?" She was happily and teasingly watching your every move. She loved watching you, loved the way your emotions controlled your features before you got control of them. She noticed it a lot when you two were alone, probably because you had less control over them around her and she loved it.  

"You paying?" You smirked, turning your head more so you were almost nose to nose. Being that close sent shivers down your spine but you made no attempt to move and neither did she.  

"You haven't paid for one drink tonight and this was your idea. Begging me to come out for drinks when I had a perfectly good bottle of wine at home." Her eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes. You let your tongue slip out for a second, drawing her eyes back to your mouth. Your lips were all of a sudden very dry, she was so close, you could just lean forward a centimeter and noses would touch, lips so close.  

"Thought it was my puppy dog eyes that had you coming. I never mentioned buying you drinks." You'd be lying if you didn't notice her eyes widen and darken at your words. Your legs shifted, squeezing together more and apparently that was an invitation for Jack to slip her free hand onto your thigh, running it up too high and down again softly. This was definitely way past being extra friendly.  

"That's no way to turn a girl on." She breathed, watching you control your shock and lust. It was hard with several alcoholic beverages in your system and her being so touchy feely.  

"Think you got that under control, Jacqueline." You leant forward, burying your face into her curls, seeking out her neck and you smirked when you felt her tilt her head back slightly. You found the skin you were seeking and left open wet kisses against her skin until she was moaning under your touch. Her hand on your thigh tightened, her nails digging into your jeans. "Still want that drink?" You murmured against her skin, trailing wet kisses up her neck, nipping at her earlobe and she moaned louder this time. You so wanted to kiss her lips but this just seemed like the crazier, more passionate option.  

"You got a drink at your place?" She moaned when you sucked her lobe between your lips and you did it over again to hear that moan from deep within her crawl out. Her fingers digging deeper into your thigh and you squeezed your legs together in response.  

Feeling your thigh move under her touch, she loosened her grip and trailed her hand up, running her fingers too lightly over your inner thigh until her thumb rubbed not so gently against your centre.  

"God, yes." You couldn't help but grind against her hand. It was involuntary but your mind had walked out the door with Ellie and Nick.  

Jack smirked, your lips leaving her skin when she moved her thumb in a circular motion, causing you to falter. "Then let’s go." She slipped her hand out from between your thighs and you moaned at the sensation it left in its wake. Your eyes followed her hand, up her arm, shoulder and found her lustful glazed eyes looking down at you.  

"The quicker we leave the quicker I can -" You jumped up before she could finish, not wanting those words to be heard by anyone else but you. She laughed at your response, loved watching what she could do to you. The alcohol was very much still driving both your actions but neither of you seemed to care right now. This was what everything had been leading up to over the past few months. All the touches, winks, flirtatious comments thrown back and forth. Your want had been building for months and so had hers. Your hand and imagination were never going to live up to this moment.  

She had you pressed against the wall outside the bar before the Uber had a chase to agree to the contract. Her lips seeking yours, nipping at your bottom lip, sucking it between hers and devouring you all together. Your hands gripped at her jacket at her waist, trying to find some balance there but she was crushing you, demanding entrance between your lips and her tongue gliding and exploring your mouth. A moan ripped out from your lips, she pulled back heaving for breath but you didn't give her enough time, crashing your lips back to hers, she could use your air for all you cared. You couldn't get enough of her now. You feared, hoped you never would.  

You managed to keep your hands mostly to yourselves in the Uber, the driver was friendly, Jack struck up a semi coherent conversation with him for the short distance to your place while her hand glided along your thigh, keeping you both on edge.  

The trail up to your apartment was another story entirely. Your hands slipping under her blouse, her moans and cries swallowed by your lips. Luckily your apartment was on the bottom floor and you managed to open the door straight away by some miracle with Jack's lips attached to your neck. Her tongue came out to sooth the red skin but that had you melting all over again. You shoved her back against the door and it slammed shut.  

"Your bedroom." She moaned as your lips captured hers, her fingers crawling under your shirt, her knuckles brushing against your skin and your groaned at the contact and the mention of your bedroom. She slipped your shirt off before you could even think about what was happening. It landed somewhere in your entry way but you didn't care. She pushed you back, her lips trailing down and paying attention to your collarbone as she walked you back, down the hallway and into your bedroom. She'd been here a handful of times to know where everything was however, she'd never stepped foot in your bedroom.  

Your room had never been so loud. Your moans echoed off the walls, her moans sounding like they were meant to be here and nowhere else. She took you to new heights. Clothes were long gone, the alcohol starting to lose its edge but that didn't matter now. She was intoxicating enough for you. She was like a drug, watching her trail down your body was enough to almost take you over the edge but the way she touched you, sucked and caressed, had you on a whole other planet. But that wasn't the end, no, you wanted some, you wanted her. Flipping her over, having her under you, her whiskey brown eyes almost black with desire and a thin sheen of sweat glistening her body had you moaning all over again. You licked and sucked and made her body shake and convulse under your touch. She screamed your name when you finally let her give in to the abyss and that sound would be etched into your mind forever. Nothing could take that away from you.  

That's why when she uttered those words not minutes later, you were still catching your breath and almost ready to go another round when she killed that feeling dead in its tracks. You replayed the moment over and over in your head as you heard the front door slam and Jack was gone. It was such a perfectly drunk evening of finally giving into your feelings and desires and she'd run away. You sunk further into your bed, it smelt like her, like you, like what you could've had but now it was just a smell of what had been.  

The turmoil inside of you wrecks you and you have half a thought to try and call Jack but knew she wouldn't answer. You manage to find the energy to roll over because even that seemed like moving a mountain right now and you buried your face into the pillow your face found there. The smell of Jack's shampoo rudely invaded your senses and you groaned. Rolling back over to find anything that didn't smell like the woman who'd ruined you in every possible way.

. . . . . 

[eeveevie]

truth or dare

All Rosie wants to do is work on her journals. All Butch wants to do is play Truth or Dare. The truth? Rosie’s never been kissed. Do either dare to make the first move? 

Unprompted, but I needed some self-indulgence in these uncertain times. Also, Rosie needed a smooch. Stealth edit: this is my lucky #99 story on Ao3 !!!

Butch DeLoria x Rosie Sheridan (Lone Wanderer)

 2885 words | [read on Ao3]

Finding a quiet place to hideaway in Rivet City was one of the most difficult tasks Rosie faced every time she visited the repurposed warship—even in the privacy of her rented room, she was distracted by the constant creaking of metal and the echoing footsteps of the guard patrol. By comparison, it made her long to be under the rusted rooftop in Megaton, the closest thing she had to call home nowadays. But beggars and wanderers couldn’t be choosers, even if all she wanted to do that evening was concentrate on her journal and travel notes.

Rosie tried to focus on the stack of reports she had received from Scribe Rothchild, wanting to better understand the different vaults in the area but all she could hear was the repetitive sounds of somebody pacing outside her door. It didn’t match the usual rotation of the Rivet City guards and she had only one guess as to who it could be. Just as she thought to move and secure the lock on the bulkhead it creaked open to reveal her traveling companion—Butch—just as she thought.

He was in a chipper mood, holding a half-empty Nuka-Cola bottle, though his swagger told her that he had been partaking in a different kind of beverage. Rosie frowned, hiding her disappointment in her palm as she diverted her gaze back to her work. She had better things to do than babysit or worry about his drinking habits.

“Whatcha doing?” he asked, leaning over her shoulder to peer at her journal. Butch rested one hand on the desk, effectively boxing her in as he bent at the waist for a closer look. Beneath his usual musk of cologne and hair product, she could smell the booze and cigarette ash. She clenched her jaw, more annoyed with him than usual.  

Even though the two had taken remarkable strides in creating a friendship from the ground up, Rosie was still in turmoil over the feelings she had for him. No matter what she did to convince herself otherwise, or how much time she believed would need to pass, the stupid little crush had developed into something much stronger. Matters were only made worse when Butch would do something uncharacteristically kind, fueling the flame in her heart. Stranger still, she found herself equally attracted to his tantrums—the little bouts of pouting that resulted from their petty arguments.

Worst of all, she became jealous of any attention he gave to other girls and envious of how easy it was for others to chat him up. Rosie knew she wasn’t the most charismatic person, but now that she was saddled with the weight of those emotions, her insecurities had skyrocketed. It all circled back to her frustration with Butch and how he seemed so carefree and unaware of how his presence affected her.  She wondered if his actioned were done intentionally to frustrate her. He wasn’t her childhood bully anymore—this was a completely new form of torture.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” she deflected, avoiding his stare as he looked at her profile. She hadn’t meant to sound so rude but hoped her tone would send him back on his way. Instead, Butch took it as an invitation to linger, testing her patience. Why couldn’t he have slipped back into his old, stubborn ways and taken offense? Had he grown too soft in traveling with her?  

“Marketplace is closed,” he explained, straightening. He took a long sip of his soda. “What’s wrong with hangin’ with my best gal?”

Rosie shifted in her seat, the term of endearment had lost its touch lately, even with the affectionate gestures. She would’ve preferred any other nickname if he was going to be sarcastic with her. Rothchild’s notes became a scrambled blur as she crafted a good enough response, one that was sure to dismiss him.

“Wouldn’t you rather be at the Muddy Rudder, getting drunk with Trinnie?” she asked, this time tilting her chin up to steal a quick glance. “Or have you exhausted that option?”

Trinnie reminded Rosie a lot of Susie Mack in the way the girl hung off his every word and became excited when she saw him visiting the city. Rosie rolled her eyes at the irony of it all, that she had ended up in a similar position. At least she was better at hiding how she felt—she hoped.

Butch’s brows furrowed in frustration as he scowled. “I don’t—” he stomped away but didn’t leave the room. “I didn’t.”

Rosie turned in her chair to watch as he deposited himself right on the edge of her bed, leaning back on one elbow. The pose was too suggestive for her and she shot her eyes to the ceiling, pressing her lips into a flat line. “Oh?”

“What’s gotten into you lately?” he questioned in stark tone reminiscent of their earlier traveling days. “You’re pickin’ fights and pouting all the time at me like I did something wrong.”

He looked at her, steely blue eyes trained on her as he emptied the last drops of cola from the bottle, tapping his fingers absentmindedly against the glass. “What’d I do this time? I didn’t get wasted like that one time, ya see?” He waved his free hand over his body, but she wasn’t going to look at his appearance and how he was practically draped across her bed. “Or ya’ still finding ways to be mad about all the teasing and bullying?”

In the quiet, she reluctantly flicked her eyes to find him looking like a neglected and kicked puppy. Worse than when she forgot to give Dogmeat a bath after a bout with raiders (usually the dog was happy to be covered in blood and guts). Butch sat there, picking at the Nuka-Cola label with a pout, bottom lip sticking out.

“I said I was sorry,” he mumbled, sounding more dejected than ever.  

Rosie chewed on her bottom lip—she hated that the appearance of him crestfallen and perched on her bedsheets was very alluring, especially when he glanced up at her from under his lashes—no way he hadn’t done that on purpose. She sighed, knowing it was wrong of her to lash out when everything that was wrong had to do with her. He didn’t deserve that, especially when yes—they had made their amends and started fresh when first joining up. She was just a young, foolish teenager with emotions she wasn’t ready to face.

“I uh—” she twisted her hands in her lap, darting her eyes from the books spread across the desk and back towards the ceiling. She wanted to have a valid, believable excuse for her outlandish behavior so that maybe he would forgive her. “I’ve been distracted.”

“Yeah,” Butch softly chuckled. “I can tell.”

He titled his head back and forth in thought, pointing the bottle to her. “Take a break, Stitches. You could use a little fun.”

She crossed her arms tightly across her chest, irritated by the suggestion—it wasn’t the first time he had pointed out her boring disposition, but she couldn’t help her inner nature. Rosie was quiet, reserved and her idea of a good time was reading medical textbooks and solving math problems. Butch’s idea of entertainment usually involved some kind of risk that bordered on illegal, scheming up ways to break his boredom. He was stubborn, steadfast in his ways to get her to take life a little less seriously, to smile and laugh more if only so he could see it.

“You’re cute when you smile, Stitches.”

He had told her one evening, a little too tipsy on beer at Moriarty’s, a statement that had her red in the face for hours. Reminiscing on it had her blushing then and there too, something that Butch noticed quickly. He snickered, stretching a little further across her bed—it was certainly large enough for the two of them, but she had refused to share the space, resigning him to the common rooms.

“Rosie, your face is rosy,” he teased, barely able to get the words out as he continued to laugh. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “What kind of fun are you thinkin’ about?”

She scoffed, clutching the back of the chair to ground herself. “Unlike you, my thoughts aren’t permanently in the gutter.”

Butch shrugged, clearly not believing her—she wouldn’t either, with the way her face was burning. He placed the empty Nuka-Cola bottle on the bedsheets beside him and spun the glass, though the fabric prevented it from moving effectively. “Spin the bottle?”

Rosie glanced to see the open end was facing her and sharply turned her head away, focusing on a dark, rusted spot in the corner. She didn’t even want to think about how playing the game would work with just two people. “No!”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” he whined. She heard him shift abruptly. “Hey, wait—you never played, have you?”

Those types of games in the vault were usually reserved for the parties she wasn’t invited to—the same kind of parties in which Amata was dared to spend seven minutes in heaven in the utility closet with Freddie Gomez. Rosie had a wealth of information, but lacked firsthand experience leaving her woefully embarrassed. What she wouldn’t have given to have a normal teenaged life growing up in Vault 101.

“Think back to those circles you sat in, Butch,” she replied, not meaning to sound so despondent. “Ever remember seeing Nosebleed as the bottle spun around?”

Her frown increased as a fleeting thought crossed her mind that he must have kissed every girl in the vault—the rumors certainly had painted him as a player, as a Casanova—yet there she was, still unable to get over how she felt.

“Fine then,” he finally replied. “Truth or dare?”

Rosie whipped her head at him, wide eyed. “I am not playing that game with you either.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, resting his head in his palm. “’Fraid you might reveal something to the Butch-man?”

Her patience was wearing thin, but she knew there would be no getting rid of him unless she humored him. Baring the risk of him escalating the games or wagers, she relented with a sigh, shaking her head. “Do not dare me to do anything gross or illegal.”

“You’re no fun,” he muttered, but regarded her with a low smile. “Okay. Truth or dare.”

She was reluctant to go first but still answered. “Truth.”

Butch’s grin increased and her stomach tightened—somehow, she had chosen something worse than dare. His question was very direct. “Have you ever been kissed?”

Rosie stiffened, and blinked at him silently. Her mind had gone blank at the sheer horror of what was happening—Butch DeLoria was confirming that she was the hopeless nerd he always thought she was. She scrambled to think of a passable lie, of a close call she could claim was really her first kiss but all she could think about were all the times they had managed to get close without anything occurring. Too much time passed without her answering, and his eyebrow quirked up as he let out a breathless laugh.

“Oh, I knew it,” he pushed himself, so he was sitting up on the edge of the bed. “Explains everything!”

“You—you asked that on purpose!” she yelped, turning away from him and hiding her face in her hands out of mortification. Knowing Butch, even with his somewhat changed ways, she’d never hear the end of his teasing over this learned information. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

“Come on now, Rosie,” he encouraged. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just—”

Something in the tone of his voice had her alarmed. Apprehensively, she glanced back to find him anxiously rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding her stare. That, she didn’t expect. He seemed to be mulling over his next move, the next right thing to say to make the situation right. His eyes met hers and slowly, he smiled.

“Ya’ know, if you want, I could kiss you,” Butch said it like it made perfect sense in his mind. “Get that first kiss out of the way so you know what you’re doin’”

She stared at him, half in disbelief, half in a daze, but mostly in shock. Was he suggesting that…they kiss? Rosie considered that the person she was staring at wasn’t Butch DeLoria at all and the man Amata had released from the vault was some kind of replacement. No way would the bully she had grown up with for nineteen years switch from being repressed by her presence to suddenly wanting to lock lips. It didn’t matter that they were friends now, it still didn’t make any logical sense in her brain. Even if he sounded sincere, even if it was secretly what she wanted, Rosie couldn’t agree—not like this.

“I don’t want to kiss you under some ridiculous circumstances,” she shook her head, busying her hands in hair. “Not when we’ve been playing a stupid game, or—or when you’ve been drinking.”

“I’m not drunk,” he flatly reassured. “Maybe it’s you that needs the liquid courage.”

Rosie disagreed. “I don’t need alcohol to kiss you.”

“Oh yeah?” Butch smirked, mood perking up. “So, you’re saying you do want to kiss me?”

“Don’t—” she huffed, unhappy he was twisting her words. He was the one that brought up the subject in the first place. “You seem eager to do the same!”

He furrowed his brows, laugh a little forced. If anything, it looked like he was blushing. “I dare you to do it right now. Lay one on me, Stitches.”

“I didn’t pick dare. It isn’t my turn, it’s yours!” she argued, once again feeling red in the face. Butch nodded at her, egging her on. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

She had never felt so emboldened. “Kiss me.”

It was Butch’s turn to look shell-shocked as he stared at her, wide blue eyes hazy as his thoughts caught up to the moment. A boy who usually had a snappy remark for everything and everybody was dead silent, unmoving before her. Unsurprisingly, she was disappointed, but hid her emotions well. Abruptly, she stood, determined to remove herself from the room and situation if nothing was going to happen. Rosie would need to be alone to decompress and deal with the ache in her chest. Behind her she heard his feet meet the ground as he scrambled to follow.

“Hey, wait—”

Despite her frustration, she turned half-way to meet him and was surprised when his hand pulled on her wrist, dragging her closer to him. His other hand quickly found her chin, angling her head up just in time for his lips to crash into hers. The first contact was rough—propelled forward by the movement of their bodies—but slowly, Rosie relaxed, daring to reach out and rest her hand against his chest. Reflexively, she clutched at his leather jacket, softly humming her approval. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, too focused on the way Butch’s lips molded around hers the longer they kissed.

When they did sperate, she felt her entire body radiating warmth, embarrassment for a completely different reason now. She had just been kissed—her first kiss—by Butch DeLoria. Instead of even trying to run away she stared up at him sheepishly, amazed to find a similar, dazed look in his eyes. His lips quirked up to the side in a smirk as he slid his hand to cup her cheek, tangling his fingers into her dark hair. The second time he kissed her was far more chaste, at least for the first few moments before he dared to run his tongue along the seam of her mouth, a little sound echoing from his throat when she gradually parted for him. He didn’t rush her, the kiss remaining slow yet far more fervent than the first—his other hand moving from her hand to her waist to slide her closer to his body.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, in need of air. Again, the two gazed at each other, this time far more fascinated by the situation as reality sunk in, but they didn’t separate. Rather, they stayed closely nestled together, mimicking each other’s goofy smiles.

“Your turn,” he breathed.

“Truth,” she answered, quietly. She almost forgot that they had been playing a silly game.

Butch combed his fingers through her hair, eyes darting down to her lips before locking with hers again. “Now that you’ve got some experience, whadd’ya you think about kissing?”

“More research will need to occur for me to make a determination,” she answered, knowing full well of how she sounded.

“God Rosie, you’re such a nerd,” he laughed against her mouth, moving away if only to flash a wink. “I’ll be your test subject.”

She giggled, feeling more alive and normal than she had in weeks. She didn’t realize it was possible to feel so energetic, the way her heart was racing. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Butch smiled, already leaning closer.

Rosie met him halfway, unable to contain her excitement. She would never tire of asking him now that she could. “Kiss me again.”

[blamebrampton]

Eurovision 2018, Semi Final 2

I’m watching on replay and it’s getting late, so this is going to be as swift as possible. We open with a gorgeous montage and I really do feel like going to Lisboa after this week, were I not broke as a broke thing. The women are back and they look great. The NCIS one has come in an assassin’s cocktail dress, the saintly one is dressed like a tasteful wedding cake, the blonde has come over all black swan and the little one has picked up on last semi final’s sci fi villains theme and is cosplaying Servalan. They are doing nautical allusions again and I will continue to ignore them wherever possible. And also their jokes. They are lovely people, but I am here for the singing. 

1. Norway, Alexander Rybak, That’s How You Write A Song. He’s back! With the air fiddle this time. In fact, a raft of air instruments that are animated in. Look, he’s still cute as a button and charismatic as a puppy, but this song is reminding me of Cliff Richard and that is not something I wish to be reminded of. It’s no Fairytale. ACTUAL violin has just appeared! About bloody time. He nearly transcends the song, but the song is well meh. Watch it win now. Backing dancers exist and are perfectly fine. Let’s move on.

2. Romania, The Humans, Goodbye. White dress, drink. No, it was a fakeout, the lead singer is wearing purple. She’s surrounded by band members in white with creepy white masks. And mannequins in in gimp suits, also with creepy white masks. I’ve got a real Bonnie Tyler vibe here, which is at least a step up from the last song. BIG power chords into the main body of the song. She’s exhorting the mannequins to live their best life and I cannot bear to break it to her. White dress girl is back, she’s the cellist and I respect a band with a cellist. BIG HERO NOTES! ooh, her purple frock has matching shorts. Nice. Song was OK, band was great.

3. Serbia, Sanja Ilic and Balkanika, Nova Deca. Pipes and wailing vocal intro and I am sold already. If I was up this morning, this would have had my vote. Soz, kids. Three girls wailing mystically with a man looming behind Rasputinly. Seriously, his whole outfit is mad monk. Big Taiko style drums with an enthusiastic man beating away — erm, on the drums — and now some dance beats to lift it. I have to say that I would love this on the club floor late at night when you want something a bit slower and trippier. The girls’ outfits are sort of earth goddess meets debutante. I’m not going to lie, I flipping loved this one.

4. San Marino, Jessika, featuring Jenifer Brening, Who We Are. Lead singer in a lacy red frock over undies. Two human girl dancers and a set of robot dancers. Look, Ive seen worse. Jenny B has just stonked out down the walkway rapping determinedly and it’s all … fine. It’s a perfectly fine song and there will be some young folks who love it. A robot is holding up body positivity messages, actually, the poor wee thing just dropped it, but now he’s holding hands with the singer. It’s a bit community centre talent night, but they’re enormously likeable and I wish them well.

5. Denmark, Rasmussen, Higher Ground. Sudden plunge into darkness. Faint mystic chord as of pipes over water. Dry smoke. Backlit bearded man standing on a ramp. Square sails and more bearded men. Yes, we have hit peak Viking for the night and there is chanting and stomping and more beard pomade than is probably safe in an environment with pyro. We’re singing about men laying down their swords and making their mark and it’s all very Scandirevival, but I have to confess I rather like it and they can all bloody well sing. I have a nose full of North Sea wind and my cheeks feel windbitten at the end of this song, Oh, look, a white flag of peace. Sure. Key change! Snorri Sturluson would love these guys. The boy Aussie commentator has just said they remind him of when Durmstrang walked into the Hall in Harry Potter and he is right on the money. Definitely a contender.

6. Russia, Julia Samoylova, I Won’t Break. Set design is from the cousin of whoever did Estonia, so it’s nice to have two iceberg singers in the one contest. Super dancers: ballet this time, with Russian technique, which is always lovely to see. Look, I disagree with her politics and her country, and the song’s another meh one, but I wish her well. Moving on.

7. Moldova, DoReDoS, My Lucky Day. They have brought a whole miniseries in the staging of this song. She’s seeing blue suit, but red suit behind his back. Now she and red suit are official, but blue suit is getting some on the side. Lots of comedy from the dancers in the background, who are working within a white box set. It’s silly, it’s saucy. it’s a lot of fun. It would absolutely be the theme song of a sex comedy from 1959 starring Sophia Loren.

8. The Netherlands, Waylon, Outlaw in ’Em. Steel string guitar, pulsing lights and wailing vocals. I’m sorry, I’m allergic to wailing dead dog country that uses gun metaphors, They’re very talented, just not my thing. I’m sure he’ll make a fortune in America and good luck to him.

Short presenter is down with the audience and why?

9. Australia, Jessica Mauboy, We’ve Got Love. Cards on the table, I love Jess. She is a super lovely person as well as a great singer. I don’t the song is quite as good as Dami’s Sound of Silence, but she can perform like a goddess. She is bringing her inner Beyonce with the hair and squats, and selling the lyrics, which are basically, ‘don’t give up, we’ve got love’ and look, sure, but this is a country that numbers Sia, Nick Cave and Kate Miller Heidke among its leading lyricists and I just feel we could have done better for our Jess. But she is putting it all out there, and getting the crowd in on side. The drapey bit on her minidress is a bit distracting, but who gives a proverbial, she’s a champ and she should definitely go through to the finals.No matter how absurd it is that we are there.

10. Georgia, Ethno-Jazz Band Iriao, For You. My first question is whether that is actually the group’s name or if they added a little descriptor for the booking agent once and it’s stuck. It matters not. Lovely quiet jazz piano opening, then classical vocals soaring over the top, dry ice already, and a chanting backing vocal that is somewhere between Gregorian monks and Il Divo, but entirely pleasant to listen to. The vocals are very tight and the arrangement intelligently spare and restrained in parts to show off the voices. I approve! There is a lot of eyebrow emoting, but I don’t mind that in a dark Eastern European man, it’s like queueing if you’re British or buying sausage sandwiches at hardware shops on weekends if you’re Australian. That was a good three minutes for me, I hope they get through!

11. Poland, Gromee, featuring Lucas Meijer, Light Me Up. They are wearing ridiculous hats. More Pharrel than Devo, but the sort of hat that will stand in for a personality when you’re young and nervous. Fair enough, some of them look about 14. Good performers, strong backing vocals and the sort of winning stage performance I would have loved the first 250 times I saw it. It’s not your fault I am old and jaded, Gromee, but I am. There is pyro, there is hand dancing, he is dancing with the audience, he is counting. It’s all fine. OK, bye.

12. Malta, Christabelle, Taboo. She is standing inside four big screens and now a heart is glowing against her black dress. People writhe on her screens and the world spins out from her hands. She is singing about the need to respect and support each other in a world that can be hard and cruel. I… I really like her. I’m not sure whether I also like the song or if I just find her so committed to it that I think I like it, but it doesn’t really matter. There’s a real dancer inside the screens now, and Christabelle loves us all. I love you too, Christabelle. I would totally invite you to my barbecue with Jess.

13. Hungary, AWS, Vislát Nyár. Going for the risky Lordi without masks vote, they drum their way in and then launch straight into rich, angry, headbanging lyrics that are upset about something but my knowledge of Finno-Ugric languages begins and ends with a song about little piggies. Another performance with sincerity rather than just polish, though, and that counts. CROWD SURFING GUITARIST! He’s been returned safely, bless you lovely Eurovision crowd. Angry shouting, epic pyro, lots of drumming. There we go.

14. Latvia, Laura Rizzotto, Funny Girl. Another red lace minidress, with a train this time. Actually, it’s more a shorts dress. A playsuit with train. She looks lovely whatever it is. Her song is apparently about a girl who just a wee bit of a stalker. You know you can tell a chap you like him and not just hang around waiting for him to notice you, yes? Some nice bits of tricky tempo and big hair singing. It’s not my cup of tea, but it is well brewed.

15. Sweden, Benjamin Ingrosso, Dance You Off. Brief moment to mention it is bloody freezing in Sydney tonight, for the first time in forever. This is another very polished performance from a skilled performer and it’s doing nothing for me. Might go and find a blanket for my wee toesies.

16. Montenegro, Vanja Radonovic, Inje. Man at piano, women in background, intense man in front, who is Vanja. He is upset. Possibly because some bastard has bedazzled the crap out of his suit. Nice vocals in the ballad, though. The girls are striding, the piano is staying still, which is as it should be. Ooh! The girls are playing statues. Nice. There is a lot of emoting, but the girls’ costumes and facial expressions make it a little unfortunately close to ‘help us, we have been enslaved by vampires and need you to stake us to free our souls’. Lighting and key change, but otherwise much as before. The girls are still suffering. It’s probably a complex retelling of current politics.

17. Slovenia, Lea Sirk, Helva, Nei. She has pink hair so I like her already. Backing dancers are muscular and fast, I like them, too. Do not bother any of these women or they will make you regret it almost immediately. Her frock is another curtain over undies number, but with more plastic than most others. Who can explain it, who can tell you why? Their music cuts out at one point and they get the audience to clap their beat and I am not certain that was real, but it was nicely handled. Confirmation that was a faux error on the music. Whatevs. As no-one says anymore.

18. Ukraine, Melovin, Under the Ladder. Before I hear a word, I learn he likes horses, David Bowie and Verka Serduchka, so we’re basically friends now. He opens the song in a crypt, which opens up in a cheerfully cheesy Hammer Horror way. He’s dressed like an old-school vampire and the crypt is really the inside of a giant piano at the top of a set of stairs. Clearly Dead or Alive were 30 years too early for this chap, but I am glad YouTube will let him experience them. As everyone guessed, he is back up the stairs to play the piano, soulfully. And now the stairs are on fire, and there’s random pyro everywhere. Of course there is. Vampires love fire. At least dress your backing singers as avenging villagers, who have finally arrived to free the girls from Montenegro.

And we are done! Voting is about to open. I am fast forwarding through this bit because life is too short. ESCLOPEDIA IS BACK! Hello bearded man! More clips from past songs, and an allegation that there is a link between Eurovision and fashion. That is A LIE. You know, Portugal, you’re no Sweden and the women are no Petra and Mans, but I respect that you have kept these interval bits short and cool.

I spoke too soon. Presenters are back with costume changes. NCIS is in a short blue cocktail dress, Blondie is in a pink line dancing dress, Saintly is wearing a costume from my Grade Two Tap exam and the little one is cosplaying Severus Snape. They are doing dance moves from Eurovisions past. The Little One is actually pretty funny, but you will have to download it as I am not up to describing that much physical comedy. There is a Riverdance moment. Which I believe is obligatory for every third Eurpovision.

They run through the acts again, and Denmark’s lead singer has brows you could crack nuts on. Walnuts. Not the other kind. Though he looks as though he would be against toxic masculinity, so perhaps that would also be OK.

Votes are closed. We are touring through Portugal. It is very lovely. The acts are ding the bits that have preceded every song and coming out through their doors and visiting locations and generally cocking a lot of it up, bless them. They look as though they are having fun.

Little presenter has just turned up at the Aussie table and is handing out pastéis de nata a la Oprah and Jess looks as though she is in heaven. Custard really is that good.

Saintly presenter is talking about Eurovision’s role in Portuguese politics! 1974, the year Sweden won with Waterloo, was the year that the Portuguese entry was chosen to be the signal for a revolution. It was played on the radio in the early morning as a signal to take to the streets and by the end of the day there were carnations in gun barrels.True story.

Black swan presenter has found British fans and I think they may have been on the drink, but they say lovely things about Portugal (and Jess), so well done, kids!

Bridal cake presenter is introducing the tracks from France, Germany and Italy and Little One is with them. The French performers are cute as, and sing last years’ winning song in French. Suck ups. But lovely voice. Ooh, NCIS has taken over with Germany. who looks a little like Josh Widdicombe. He’s doing a ukulele cover of Fly on the Wings of Love and I confess I liked it. The entry is nice, too. Look forward to the full version in the finals. And now it’s Little One again with Italy, who really look 100% drunk. But they have spectacular hair. And do a chorus of Nel Blu Dipinto Di Blu, ‘Volare! Oh-oh. Cantare, oh wo-oh-oh’ They are SO VERY drunk. Or just exhausted after sitting through 17 hours of this.

Jon Ola Sand says the votes are in. Thank Zeus!

The winners are: Serbia! Fair enough. Moldova! Excellent. They were hilarious. Hungary, because all those Norwegian Death Metal fans were there for you. Ukraine, sure. Sweden. Really? Look, you’re a lovely country. Australia! YAY JESS! Norway, meh. Soz Sasha. I love your country. Denmark, which is entirely fair. Slovenia, which is good news. Last spot goes to The Netherlands, which is fine, the country and western people need something. That’s it till Sunday morning, Which will probably be Sunday night, let’s be honest.

[copyseat0]

The Anatomy of Seduction: Raised Brow Puppy Dog Eyes

Dogs and humans communicate quite well. We're pretty good at reading what they want and what they're feeling, and they're very good at reading us. This reciprocal understanding of shared emotions, many of which function as "social glue," isn't all that surprising given the close association of dogs and humans during the process of domestication. (See "Dogs Mirror Our Stress and We Know More About How and Why," "Dogs Watch Us Carefully and Read Our Faces Very Well," "How Dogs See the World: Some Facts About the Canine Cosmos," "Can Dogs Tell Us We're Angry When We Don't Know We Are?," "Dogs Smell Human Fear and Mirror Our Mood When They Do," and references therein.) 

Researchers and non-researchers alike are very interested in how different behavior patterns have evolved in our canine companions. And now, due to new research by Dr. Juliane Kaminski and her colleagues, we know more about how domestication has altered the facial musculature of dogs so that they, but not wolves, have a unique muscle called AU101  that controls their seductive, sad-looking, puppy dog eyes. In an essay called "Evolution of facial muscle anatomy in dogs," Dr. Kaminski and her colleagues note that humans shaped dog behavior and anatomical features during domestication. They write, "Here we show that domestication transformed the facial muscle anatomy of dogs specifically for facial communication with humans. A muscle responsible for raising the inner eyebrow intensely is uniformly present in dogs but not in wolves." Their essay, published in the prestigious journal Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences (PNAS), is available online along with pictures of the facial musculature of dogs and wolves and informative videos. What's especially appealing about this research paper is that it's a pretty easy read, even for people who aren't researchers themselves. There are also a good number of discussions in popular media for those who want more. 

Dr. Kaminski and her team made their very interesting discovery by dissecting the faces of four gray wolves and six domestic dogs (cadavers, of course) and also by measuring the intensity of facial movements associated with a unique muscle called AU101 during social interactions with humans by nine wolves and 27 dogs. They discovered that dogs had a greater ability than wolves to raise the inner corner of their eyebrows without squinting due to the action of AU101. 

How and why did puppy dog eyes evolve? The anatomy of seduction

The results of this study are very interesting and important. We now have a better understanding of how and why large, sad-looking puppy dog eyes, have evolved, and it's most likely because humans preferred them and selected for them during domestication. We also know from previous research by Dr. Kaminski and her colleagues that dogs display more facial expressions when we pay attention to them. (See "Dogs Are More Expressive When We're Looking at Them.") 

Puppy dog eyes are often referred to as being "paedomorphic" (infant or juvenile-like). These traits are characterized as being "cute" and often attract attention and care from those who see them. So, it's interesting and relevant that another study titled "Paedomorphic facial expressions give dogs a selective advantage" showed that dogs who display these puppy dog eyes are rehomed more quickly from shelters than those who don't. While we really don't know the details, perhaps this is a way that muscle AU101 evolved, because dogs who displayed seductive puppy dog eyes gained a selective advantage over those who didn't do it as frequently because humans were attracted to this facial expression. The data on rehoming support the idea that it's likely that the presence of AU101 is important for forming and maintaining close relationships between dogs and humans, and they also provide an interesting window into how AU101 might have evolved. Consistent with the rehoming pattern of dogs who do and do not display puppy dog eyes, Dr Kaminski and her colleagues conclude, "Overall, the data suggest that selection—perhaps mainly unconscious—during social interactions can create selection pressures on the facial muscle anatomy in dogs strong enough for additional muscles to evolve."

Are puppy dog eyes used to manipulate humans? 

Raised brow eyes often evoke a caregiving response from humans, but there really isn't any solid evidence that dogs use them to manipulate us despite a few catchy headlines that claim they do. That dogs manipulate and "use us" is among many different myths that need to be put to rest once and for all. Suffice it to say, while some dogs might occasionally use puppy dog eyes or other behavior patterns deceptively to get something from us, there's no evidence at all that this is "canine business as usual" and that it would have resulted in the evolution of muscle AU101, other physical or morphological traits, or behavior patterns. (See "Do Dogs Really Manipulate Us? Beware Misleading Headlines," "'If Dogs Truly Were Human They Would Be Jerks'," "Dogs Live in the Present and Other Harmful Myths," "Let's Give Dogs a Break by Distinguishing Myths From Facts," Canine Confidential, Unleashing Your Dog, and links therein.)

Human, or artificial selection, clearly influences the evolution of a wide variety of canine traits so that they express themselves in certain ways and in a single direction. Some of these traits benefit dogs, whereas others clearly do not. (See "'Why in the World do People Make These Types of Dogs?'" and links therein). The presence of muscle AU101 made me think of the fascinating fact that dogs' ears are controlled by 18 difference muscles, but we don't know much about how wolves' ears are controlled. (See "How Dogs Hear and Speak With the World Around Them.") Perhaps human selection also played a role in the muscles that control dogs' ear movements. 

Where to from here?

I really enjoyed reading Dr. Kaminski and her colleagues' essay and most, but not all, of the popular accounts. Just like cute puppy dogs eyes, some of the discussions were a bit too cute and fast for me given what we know about dogs and the nature of dog-human interactions. There's still a lot to learn about the many ways in which domestication changed wolves as they became dogs, and who would have thought that humans could have played a significant role in the evolution of a single, unique muscle that is used in dog-human social exchanges? (See "Dumping the Dog Domestication Dump Theory Once and For All.") Its extremely important for us to understand just how influential we have been in consciously and unconsciously designing dogs for our preferences, including traits that serve them well or appear to be neutral in terms of their health and survival and those that clearly don't serve them well and severely compromise their well-being, fecundity (ability to reproduce), and longevity. Many ethical questions loom. 

The discovery of muscle AU101—the anatomy of seduction—shows that we need to go below the surface, dig deeper if you will, to learn about the hidden causes of what happened in the past as wolves became dogs, or, as author Mark Derr aptly puts it, as dogs became dogs, and what happens now when we interact with our canine companions. (See "Dogs Mirror Our Stress and We Know More About How and Why.") Stay tuned for further discussions of dog behavior, dog-human interactions, and the various ways in which we and our canine companions connect in different social situations. I'm sure there will be many fascinating discoveries and conversations in the future. 

This story was originally published by psychologytoday.com. Reprinted with permission.

Source: https://thebark.com/content/anatomy-seduction-raised-brow-puppy-dog-eyes