#if you want a couch potato dog do NOT get a german shepherd or a malinois or a husky or aussie | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honey-dewey · 4 years ago

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Rain Boots and Puppy Paws

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect)/Reader

Word Count: 2,087

Warnings: None

When Ezra and Cee returned to some kind of normal, Ezra didn’t expect Cee to be begging him for a puppy. But he’s a huge sucker, despite not being a pets kind of person. He is, however, a flirt, and his newest target is the cute trainer who exercises the dogs.

“Please?” Cee begged. She’d been trying all sorts of tactics to get Ezra to say yes to looking at dogs, and so far, nothing was working.

“I’ve told you a thousand times now little bird, we are not getting a dog,” he said. “We are currently preoccupied with recovery.”

Cee pouted. “A dog could help!” She said eagerly, leaning across the table so her cold fingers touched Ezra’s hand. “If we got a service dog it could help you with your arm!”

Ezra huffed. “I’ll consider it.”

Immediately, Cee was up, happily taking a lap around the kitchen and racing off to her room. Ezra chuckled, watching her go. It had been a little over a year since he’d been appointed her official guardian after almost a year and a half of various legal battles, and she’d bloomed so much under his haphazard care. They’d settled down on a small Earth-like planet with air that was, thankfully, breathable and not toxic. In that year, Cee had started attending school while Ezra worked from home, creating a nice pattern for them. Cee was no longer sullen and silent, although she had her days, just like Ezra, when the past caught up to her. For the most part, however, they were a happy semi-functional found family.

Ezra sighed, grabbing his tablet and unlocking it. Setting it on the table, he one-handedly typed in a search for good dog breeds.

Three days later, he gave in to Cee’s begging.

“Fine!” He said, smiling when Cee bugged him about it again. “We can look at dogs! But, little bird, if we get one, it will be your responsibility.”

If Ezra though Cee got excited when he said he’d think about it, then this was pure joy. She bounded around the table and hugged him, smiling. “Did you see any you liked?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ezra said with a grin.

Cee snorted, settling back down at her seat. “You always do your research before making a decision,” she said. “Did you see any you liked?”

Ezra shrugged, stabbing the unidentifiable meat on his plate with his fork. “I saw some with promise,” he finally said. “And there’s a shelter in town we can visit.”

“Tomorrow?”

Ezra chuckled. “Hold your horses little bird. We can go this weekend.”

Of course, in the time it took to reach the weekend, Cee and Ezra did extensive research. They both agreed an overly fluffy dog would be a bad idea, even if Cee fell in love with the husky puppies. A small dog wasn’t ideal in any way, but neither was a huge one. Some breeds weren’t good for what they needed, and some came down entirely to personal preference.

“We’ll just have to see what they’ve got,” Cee said finally on Friday night. “I still think a german shepherd is a good idea,”

“And I still don’t want a dog that will shed a fuck ton,” Ezra finished, shutting his tablet down for the night. “Go get some rest. We’re leaving early tomorrow.”

As Cee ran off to go get ready for bed, Ezra cleared the table off, leaving the dirty dishes in the sink. He couldn’t really do the dishes with one hand, so Cee did them whenever she got the chance.

Ezra went to bed that night anxious. He’d never been a pets person, despite having the faintest memories of a cat when he was little. Especially with how his dreams were plagued by the Green and his right arm stump still hurt and ached with phantom pains, he wasn’t sure if a dog was the right thing right now.

And then he thought about Cee, and how happy she had been when he’d agreed to look at dogs. This would be good for her, to have a lively animal running around instead of his lazy ass.

The sun rose early, shining brightly through the blinds and waking Ezra. He rolled over, rubbing his face and beginning to slowly stumble through his morning routine.

Cee passed by the open bathroom door as Ezra smeared a numbing cream on his stump, pausing and watching with nothing short of immense guilt on her face as he winced while rubbing over a tender spot.

“Good morning little bird,” he said, not pausing in his action or turning from his reflection in the mirror. “Haven’t I taught you that staring is rude?”

Cee jumped, her guilt turning to surprise. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Ezra ran the sink and pushed his hand under the water, wincing at the heat. “Are you almost ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Cee mumbled, reaching around Ezra to grab her hairbrush. “Are you?”

Ezra nodded. “Just need a shirt, then we can head out.”

They left not long after that, taking the train into the city. Ezra stood so Cee could sit, her eagerness returning with every passing minute.

“Have you decided on a breed yet?” She asked when they stepped off the train, the twin suns warming their skin.

“Not yet,” Ezra said, locating the small shelter. “It depends on what they have.”

Immediately, upon walking in, Ezra and Cee were met with animals of all shapes and sizes. Cee lit up, seeing a litter of puppies snuggled up next to their mother. “Ezra,” she said happily. “Thank you.”

Ezra smiled. “You’re welcome little bird.”

They spoke briefly to a receptionist, who took them to see the dogs.

“We have a bunch of different breeds,” she explained, gesturing to rows of kennels. “If you want, some of our dogs are out back with one of our trainers.”

Cee thanked the receptionist before heading down one of the aisles, cheerfully greeting every dog she saw. Ezra trailed behind her, making a mental note whenever he saw a dog he liked.

“What about this one?” Cee asked, pointing to a black and white dog that looked like a skinny panda with really short fur.

“What’s the breed?”

Cee squinted at the card. “She’s a one year old whippet.”

“A what?”

“Whippet,” Cee repeated. “Remember? We looked at a few. They’re like greyhounds but smaller.”

Ezra shrugged. “I like her. Let’s see what else we can see, but keep her in mind.”

They eventually headed out back, where a figure was chasing around a bunch of greyhounds, happily shouting to the pack to give back the frisbee they’d stolen.

As soon as they turned, giving Ezra a clear view of their face, he stopped short. Oh fuck. They were goddamn beautiful.

———

You laughed, grabbing the red rubber frisbee from TomTom, giving it a tug before commanding the dog to drop it. He did, allowing you to fling the frisbee across the yard, sending all five greyhounds chasing after it. As you watched them go, you realized you weren’t alone.

“Hey!” You waved, gesturing the two people closer. “Are y’all looking for a dog?”

The younger girl nodded, grabbing the older man’s hand and pulling him closer. “Yeah! What breed are these?”

You gestured to the dogs, who were now wresting for the frisbee. “Greyhounds. Fast as hell for all of fifteen minutes before they become the biggest couch potatoes.”

The girl introduced herself and who you assumed was her father until she called him by his name. He was handsome in a way you couldn’t describe, a way that made you pause and think about every word you spoke to him. A way that made you think you were in love.

“Can I go play with the dogs?” Cee asked, nudging Ezra’s side.

“Yeah,” he said. “Be careful little bird. And do not get horribly attached.”

Cee nodded and ran off, joining the fray as she tried to take the frisbee.

You turned to Ezra. “She’s a wonderful kid,” you commented loosely.

Ezra blinked a few times, eyes on Cee. “She’s not mine. At least, not by blood.”

Ah. That explained a lot. You shuffled, smiling at the dogs and Cee playing. “How long has she been begging?”

“Hm?”

“How long has she been begging for a dog?” You repeated. “You don’t seem all that interested in this.”

Ezra smiled. “A while. Keeps insisting it’ll be good for me.” He gestured to his right arm, or lack thereof. “I guess I finally just gave in.”

You laughed. “I hate to agree, but a dog would help.”

“Mhm,” Ezra hummed, nodding. “Okay, traitor.”

Before you could respond, the frisbee whizzed past your head, along with five very eager dogs chasing after it. They crashed into you and Ezra, sending you toppling to the ground, him landing squarely on top of you.

“Oh shit!” Cee shouted, racing over and helping Ezra sit up so you could also straighten. “Are you okay?”

Both of you nodded, immediately becoming targets for the dogs. They circled around, sniffing and licking, causing you to giggle.

“TomTom! Nuki! Georgia! That’s enough!” You laughed, shoving Georgia off you. She snorted and instead decided that licking Ezra’s entire face was a good idea.

Cee smiled. “I think she likes you.”

Ezra made a face beneath Georgia’s tongue, causing you to laugh again. “Georgia, hon, leave Ez alone.”

Georgia, thankfully, stopped licking Ezra’s face. Of course, she decided that instead, she wanted to plop herself down in Ezra’s lap, which was exactly what she did.

“They’re lovebugs,” you said, scratching behind Georgia’s ears. “Greyhounds are people dogs, and it shows.”

Cee smiled, reaching out and giving Juliet, who had collapsed on your leg, a few scritches. “Are any of them up for adoption?”

“Well.” You thought it over, trying to remember. “TomTom was claimed last week, we’re waiting to hear back from Juliet’s forever family, Nuki is going home tomorrow, but Georgia and Julek are both available.”

Julek, who had been settled in the grass, heard his name and wandered over, sniffing around your ears.

“Yes, you’re a good boy,” you said happily, petting Julek. “But if you wanna adopt Julek, I have to tell you he’s super attached to this one cat we have, so they’re a package deal.”

Ezra gave Cee a pointed look. “We’re only getting one.”

Cee nodded. “That’s okay. I think I want Georgia.”

They ended up leaving with Georgia’s paperwork and a promise to come back for her next weekend. She barked at them as they left, and you laughed. “Georgia, honey, they’re coming back for you,” you promised.

Your promise held true, as seven days later, Cee and Ezra eagerly came back for their dog.

“That should be it,” you said, checking over the paperwork. “Georgia is officially your dog.”

Cee smiled, bending down to give Georgia a kiss.

You passed the paperwork back over to Ezra. “Keep that somewhere safe. If you need to train her, call this number here.” You pointed to a phone number on a business card. “This number is the vet service we use, and it’s really close by. And that number is the one for the here, in case anything goes horribly wrong.” As you explained, you walked them to the door, until the three of you were standing outside in the warm sun.

“What about that one?” Ezra pointed to a plain business card with a handwritten phone number on it.

You smiled. “That’s my number.”

Before you could elaborate, the train pulled up, meaning Cee and Ezra had to leave.

“Call me!” You shouted across the platform, waving to Ezra.

He waved back, giving you a thumbs up before disappearing onto the train.

You didn’t have to wait long for the call. As soon as you walked back into the shelter, your phone rang. You answered the call, stomach twisting in knots. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

You smiled, hearing Ezra’s voice, albeit a bit tinny. “You called fast.”

“I had a question that just couldn’t wait,” Ezra said, the sound of the train chime interrupting him.

“And what would that question be?” You asked, opening the door to the shelter with your hip and settling down at your desk.

“I’m off on Wednesday and was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere with me?”

You laughed. “Ezra, are you asking me out?” You teased, despite knowing this was exactly what was going to happen when you picked up the phone.

“Yes I am.”

“Well,” you fiddled with your pen, already writing the date in your calendar. “How does five sound? We can get dinner.”

Ezra paused, as if he didn’t expect to get this far. “Five sounds fine.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“Yeah,” Ezra agreed. “It’s a date.”

#prospect #prospect movie #ezra (prospect)#ezra #ezra x reader #ezra x you #pedro pascal #my writing

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faithbayless4d23 · 2 years ago

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I really love the fact that you experimented with creating different styles of Gifs and even though they are a montage and mix of several different pets they have a common factor of things you desire and looking for the pet you want.

I hope you do get your own pet! I recommend a German Shepherd. I have one and they're so smart and loving-- the fastest dog I've ever pottied trained and they are always looking for a job to do like guard your house or support you emotionally as a couch potato.

Art Project #2: Gif Series

Animals add so much joy to our lives! Pets remind us to be present, play, have fun and be goofy. I experimented with a variety of my own videos, which included nature, art, dancing and sports. The GIFs I most enjoyed creating, sharing and looking at were those of animals. I don’t have any pets, but I love everyone else’s pets and I think these looped/edited videos show that. Making these GIFs have restarted the conversation with my husband and I about when we will be ready to adopt our own pet ~ perhaps this fall... “we’ll see.”

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blacknight1230 · 4 years ago

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That’s My Girlfriend!

Ethan Dolan X Reader

Reader visits home with Ethan and her dog doesn’t like him/is jealous of him.

“Are we there yet?” “Almost, E. Just be patient,” you told your boyfriend of several months. Who is your boyfriend, you may ask. Well it is none other than Ethan Dolan, one part of the popular Youtube group, the Dolan Twins. Currently, you and Ethan were traveling to visit your parents. This would the first time Ethan would met them, so Ethan was a bit worried. You weren’t as worried as him, a bit nervous, sure, but you were trying to look on the bright side. Ethan would finally be able to see your childhood home and the town you grew up in.

You were driving the rental car to your home, and just pulled into your street, when Ethan, yet again, asked “Are we there yet?” “Wait a moment ... and, here we are,” you said as you pulled into the driveway. Parking the car in the front, you were the first to hop out of the car, excited to see your family face-to-face instead of through a phone or computer screen. Ethan chuckled at your excited nature, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head. “Come one, babe, let’s meet your parents,” he said.

The two of you walked up to the front door, Ethan’s arm still around your waist. You were just about to knock on the door, when it quickly swung open. It revealed your mother, a giant smile on her face and joy in her (e/c) eyes at the sight of you. “(Y/n)!” your mother exclaimed. “Mom!” You were quickly caught up in a hug, completely enveloped into her arms, the familiar smell of her perfume filling your senses. Your mother eventually pulled away, immediately starting to yammer away. “I thought that was you! I heard your car and looked out the window just be sure! I’m so happy your home!” she said, leaving kisses on your cheeks and forehead.

“Mom, please, you are embarrassing me,” you complained, a blush on your cheeks. It was then that your mother realized you weren’t alone, her eyes widening when she saw Ethan. “Oh, who is this young man? You didn’t tell me you would bring company,” she said, leaving you to now pester your boyfriend. “My name’s Ethan, ma’am. It's a pleasure to meet you,” Ethan said, sticking his hand out for a handshake. “Oh, so you’re Ethan! It's so nice to finally meet you!” your mother said and caught the unsuspecting male in a hug. You giggled as your mother practically squeezed the life out him, despite your mother being (much/slightly) shorter and not as muscly as Ethan.

“Honey, who is at the door?” you heard your father say from somewhere in the house. Said man appeared, his (e/c) eyes eyeing your mother squeezing the life of your boyfriend, before they stopped on you. A smile broke out on his face when he saw you, his loving daughter. “(Nickname), there you are! Your mother and I have been waiting for you to finally come visit us,” he said, calmly making his way towards you. You met him halfway, immediately wrapping your arms around him in a hug. Your father returned your hug, quite tightly might I add. “Did you miss me, dad?” you asked, separating slightly so you weren’t chest to chest. “Of course, I did. Though not as much as ...”

Your father was abruptly cut off; something big and furry running then jumping on both of you. The force caused you to stumble back, out of your father’s arms, as a long wet tongue attacked your face. “Jakey!” you exclaimed, shocked yet happy to see your beloved dog. The German Shepherd continued his attack of affections, despite you obviously struggling with holding the canine’s heavy frame as he stood on his back paws. “Jake, get down!” your father commanded, voice stern. Jake listened to him, removing his front paws from your shoulders, returning to his normal four legged position. “Are you alright?” Ethan asked, hurrying over to you and scouring your face for any injuries. “I’m alright. Just got the wind knocked out of me,” you said, trying to regain your breath from your dog’s impromptu makeout session.

“Oh, dear. Let me get you some wet wipes, darling,” your mother said, before quickly rushing off to the bathroom for said wipes. “Jake, you know by now you can’t jump on people,” your father scolded Jake. The black and tan furred shepard whined, ears flattening against his head, showing he knew he did wrong. “It’s okay, Jake. I still love you, just don’t do that again,” you told your dog, petting him as he kneeled at your feet. He smiled with an open mouth, leaning into your touch. Your mother came back with some wet wipes at that moment, which you gladly took and wiped your face with after thanking her.

“Thank goodness I didn’t wear that much makeup. I had a feeling this would happen,” you joked lightheartedly. “I didn’t know you had a dog,” Ethan said, bending down to pet said canine. Jake turned his head around and grabbed Ethan’s hand with his mouth, nibbling and suckling on his thick fingers. “Ow!” Ethan exclaimed in pain, pulling his hand away after a moment when Jake suddenly chomped down on his hand. “He bit me!” “Jake!” you yelled at the pupper. “He bit really hard. Why did he do that? Look, he made an indent in my skin with his back teeth!” Ethan exclaimed, showing you where Jake bit him. Like Ethan said, there was a huge indent from Jake’s teeth on the side of his hand, the skin around it red from the bite.

“I’m so sorry, Ethan. He’s still a puppy and is still teething. Did he break any skin? Do you need an ice pack?” you worried, over his hand. “I think I’m okay. I’m not bleeding or anything.” “I still feel bad. I brought you here to meet my parents, not to get attacked by an eighty-pound fur ball,” you joked. Ethan just laughed and gave a reassuring kiss on your forehead. Your mother returned from the kitchen, a platter of crackers and cheeses in one hand and a plate full of cucumber, mini carrots, and tiny celery. “Let’s sit down and talk over a slice of pepperoni and cheese slices. There is so much I want to ask about,” she beamed. You and Ethan moved towards the family room, sitting down on the plush polyester couch.

You guys talk as you picked over the finger food, occasionally having to push Jake away from the coffee table when he tried to sneakily grab a piece. Everything was going well, your mother loved Ethan and your father bonded with Ethan over guy things. Of course Ethan avoided the cheese and meat, but stocked up on the mini vegetables, crackers, and potato chips. An hour into your visit, your mother got up from the coach. “I’m going to put the chicken in oven now and start the sides. (Your father’s name), will you open a bottle of wine for our guests?” she told you and Ethan. “I’ll pass on having a glass, Mrs. (last name). I plan on driving us back tonight,” Ethan warned. He omitted that he's wasn’t old enough to drink yet, a probably a good move on his part.

Your father just nodded and smiled, glad that he was a responsible man. Your parents left you two alone, taking their small empty paper plates with them. You laid your head on Ethan’s shoulder, closing your eyes in bliss. “Tired already?” Ethan teased, wrapping his thick arms around your waist and bringing you closer to him. “No. I’m just glad everything is going so well. My parents have really taken a liking towards you,” you replied, feeling blissful and at peace. “I know. Everything I was worried about on the way here ... the bad thoughts .. they’re all gone,” Ethan told you, his hazel eyes gazing lovingly into your (e/c) orbs. “I told you there was nothing to worry about. You should listen to me more often,” you teased, placing a few light kisses against the underside of his jaw. “Oh, really?” “Really.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with the soft hairs at the nape of it, your faces slowly inching towards each other, closing the distance as you went to kiss each other. The romantic moment was ruined by a certain German Shepherd puppy. Jake jumped onto you guys, front paws pushing on Ethan’s chest and separating him from you, the 80 something pound dog whining in your ear as his bulky body blocked you from your boyfriend. “Jake!” you yelled, frustrated at the shepherd for preventing you from loving your boyfriend. “Bad dog! Shoo!” Ethan sternly reprimanded your pet. Jake ignored him, climbing onto the coach, literally laying on your lap, leaning all of his body weight onto you and pinning you to the coach. His long snouted face was directed towards Ethan, his brown eyes glaring at your boyfriend. You were unable to push Jake off of you, the young canine purposely resisting your feeble attempts to get him off of you.

“Ethan, help,” you gasped out, struggling to breath a bit. Ethan moved closer to help you, getting stopped by Jake baring his teeth and letting out a deep hair raising growl. Both of you stilled in shock at Jake’s unexpected reaction. Ethan was the first to recover, a furious expression on his face. “Jake, get off of (y/n),” he commanded, the air filling with tension as his dominant aura flared. Jake didn’t back down, despite him moving to no longer crush you, now sitting with his hind legs on your lap, facing Ethan. His furry muzzle, with teeth bared, ears standing up straight and alert, front paws holding him up in a way that you could see the hair on his chest and on the scruff of his neck were raised menacingly, was directed straight at Ethan.

Despite the scary sight, Ethan refused to back down. He went to touch one of your legs sticking out from underneath Jake’s bulky body, but a yelp-like bark escaped Jake’s sharp-toothed filled mouth. “Hey, stop it!” Ethan shouted. A few more barks come from the German Shepherd on your lap. Hazel-brown human eyes met brown canine ones in a silent battle of the wills, waiting for the other to give up so they could be the dominant winner. Somehow, Ethan won this battle, Jake blinking first and bowing his head in submission, avoiding eye contact as he whined. Without another word, Jake hopped off of you and the couch, onto the hardwood floor.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, as Ethan moved closer to you to check you over. “Are you okay?” he asked, worry in his hazel eyes. “Yeah. Just shocked,” you replied breathlessly. “Jake’s never been this possessive of me. Why did he act like that?” “I don’t know, but hopefully he won’t act like that again. I think he knows who’s the boss now,” Ethan pointed out. At that moment, your father decided to make an appearance. “I heard Jake barking. Is everything alright?” he asked, eyeing Ethan nervously. “Jake was sitting on me, crushing me. Ethan tried to get him off of me but he wouldn’t let him touch me,” you explained, trying to prove Ethan’s innocence to your father. Luckily, he believed you, especially after he saw Jake looking miserable, a few feet away. Your father groaned, in apparent disbelief. “I’m sorry. Jake is being so possessive. (Your mother’s name) and I have noticed that in the last month or so he’s starting to get territorial and rather ... loving, if you know what I mean,” your father apologized. You and Ethan made faces of disgust. “Thank god he didn’t try that shit with me. I would have slapped him,” you replied. Your father just gave a short chuckle, then said, “Dinner’s done by the way. Come take a seat in the kitchen and have a piece of your mother’s cooking.” “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Ethan joked, causing you to giggle. Holding hands, yours encompassed by Ethan’s much bigger one, you both trade you may to the kitchen table.

Once the smell of roasted chicken hit you, your mouth started to water. “Mmm, I just realized how much I missed your cooking mom,” you said as you took your seat, Ethan pushing it in for you. “So you haven’t missed my meals until now,” your mother joked. “Oh, stop, honey. Don’t patronize her,” your father whined. “Dad, she’s joking,” you pointed out. Dinner started without a hitch, each you serving yourself pieces of chicken and some side dishes. The room was filled with idle chatter, utensils scrapping gently across the dishes, teeth chewing, and drinks repeatedly being filled. Everyone seemed to be enjoying their meal, including Jake, who was given a few table scraps in his bowl every once in a while. Your father and mother asked Ethan a couple of questions but weren’t outright interrogating him. Ethan answered all of them truthfully, but you parents reacted positively to his answers. Like his passions and goals in life, things you two love to do together, his relationship with Grayson, etc. Before you knew it, plates were being clean and left overs put away.

“Hey, mom, would you like some help?” you said when you noticed your mother washing the dishes in the sink, bright pink rubber gloves covering her hands and lower arms. “I’d appreciate it sweety.” Towel in hand, you started to try and put the utensils and plates in its proper place. You worked in comfortable silence, until your mother spoke up. “So ...” she started. “So what?” you replied, eyebrow raised. “You and Ethan. Are you happy with him?” she asked. “Moooommmm,” you whined,pout on your lips. “What I’m curious? I want what’s best for you, honey.” “Honestly, he’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’ve never been so happy with someone else like this before. Ethan cherishes me and loves me unconditionally. We’ve been on so many adventures together, getting me to try new things I would have never thought of before. He’s my best friend,” you explained, remembering all the wonderful moments you had with Ethan since you started dating him. “You really love him, don’t you?” your mother realized. You just nodded; no words could define the intensity of your adoration for Ethan. Your mother moved to hug you, and you returned the warm embrace.

You two separated, your mother gently holding your upper arms as she looked at you with immense pride and affection. “My little girl has grown up so much. I’ve always wondered when the time would come for you to find someone and I’m proud to say you made a great choice,” she praised. “Mom,” you whined, a blush on your cheeks. “Alright, I’ll stop getting all sentimental. I suggest you go back to Ethan and your father. I’ll finish up here.” She gently pushed you towards the entrance way into the kitchen, where you could hear Ethan and your father conversing pleasantly.

You left the kitchen and your mother, rounding the corner of the hallway towards the living room. Just as you about to walk into the room, you heard the last few words Ethan was saying to your father. “... I promise never to do anything like that. I truly love (Y/n), with everything I have,” you heard him say. You decided now was the right moment to let your presence be know, striding into the room as if you didn’t just hear their conversation. “I see you to were getting along. I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?” you faked innocence. “Nothing too important, dearie. I was just telling Ethan here to take good care of my little girl,” your father said, patting Ethan on the back. Ethan gave a fake smile, clueing you in that your father’s conversation wasn’t as friendly as your father let it out to be. But you let it be, as it wasn’t really your business. If Ethan wanted to tell you later on, then he could do so when he was comfortable.

“Oook ... well Ethan and I should probably get going now,” you said. “Yeah, Grayson’s probably waiting for us to get back. Don’t want to keep my little bro waiting do we?” Ethan piped up. “Really? So soon. I thought you guys would stay the night, at least,” you father whined. “Oh, let them go, (father’s name). We can’t force our daughter to stay even if we wanted to,” you mother spoke up as she appeared in the entryway of the room. Your groaned but gave up on the issue, falling under your mother’s thumb.

Ethan and you started to gather your things as you prepared to leave. The jiggling of car keys must caught his ears because out of nowhere Jake came running up to you two. The German Shepherd puppy skidded to a stop, nails clanking against the hard floor as did so. Luckily, he didn’t barge into the four of you, like you thought he would. Ethan let out a sigh of relief, relaxing from bracing himself from impact. “Aw, Jakey, have you come to say goodbye?” your mother cooed. Jake pushed his furry head into your hand, huffing happily in response. You kneeled down and pet the dog’s soft furry cheeks. “Goodbye, puppy. I’ll see you later, ok,” you told him, looking deep into his giant brown eyes. Jake gave a couple of gentle licks to your hand before you stood back up.

“You ready to go, babe,” Ethan asked you wrapping an arm around you and pulling you to his side. “Yep, I got everything,” you replied. Ethan smiled and moved to kiss you on the forehead, when Jake started barking. Ethan pulled away from you, as your parents and you looked on in confusion. Jake immediately stopped barking once Ethan was away from you. Confused, Ethan moved his face closer to yours, causing Jake to start barking again. Ethan frowned as your parents laughed. “It looks like Jake is a bit jealous, isn’t he?” your father chuckled. Ethan then tried to hug you, but the same thing started to happen again. Jake even tried to jump to separate you two but Ethan pushed him away before he could. “No! Bad dog!” he yelled. Jake just barked back unhappily, whines leaving his lips. “No! She’s my girlfriend! Not yours!” Ethan scolded the dog. Jake gave one last high-pitched bark then walked away, plopping himself on his beg on the other side of the room.

Your mother sighed, and started to apologize. “I’m sorry how he was today. I swear he’s a good boy , he’s just very stubborn. We’re working on his possessiveness with his trainer but we really haven’t gotten that far,” she explained, rubbing the bridge of her nose in exhaustion. “It’s ok, Mrs. (l/n). He’s just being an overprotective puppy. And there was no harm done,” Ethan tried to reassure her. “It’s almost like he’s a grumpy old man unhappy that someone is kissing his daughter.” “And that is why Jake’s my best friend. Our two minds think alike,” your father joked. Everyone had a laugh at that.

Goodbyes and hugs were exchanged between the four of you before Ethan and you were officially on your way. As you walked along the driveway, hand in hand with Ethan, you turned around to see Jake looking longingly out the window. A giggled escaped your lips, causing Ethan to turn his head around to look back. He smirked and put an arm around you, pulling you close and kissing your head. “My girlfriend,” you heard him mumble. You shock your head in mock disbelief, revelling in despite everything that happen the meeting between your parents and Ethan was a success. The only problem was that you were both covered in dog hair. Grayson was not going to be happy about that.

#ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan #ethan dolan x reader #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins x reader

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swimmingnewsie · 5 years ago

Text

Of Coffee and Cookies (Chapter 4)

Hi guys! It’s your local insomniac back with another chapter! This one is a mix of light fluff and soft angst. Thanks for all your support!

Please enjoy!

Link to Chapter 1 Link to Chapter 2 Link to Chapter 3 Link to AO3

---

It had been a month since their first walk and coffee. As the time passed, coffee dates became more frequent. Usually Maren would grade her students' assignments while Elsa read through research or graded her own students' papers and assessments. It was nice. Elsa would never admit it, but she liked having someone check in on her throughout the day. Anna was great, but having a real friend-

Well she wasn't exactly sure what to call Maren. They were definitely friends, but she wasn't sure if they were more than that. They went out a lot, but did that mean they were dating? But whatever they were, it was nice.

Elsa had cancelled their study session this afternoon, her monthly cycle rendering her useless to anything other than lying on the couch in pain. And yet, here Maren was cuddling next to her while they watched a sitcom on Netflix. Elsa was sure she was an angel, letting her lie against her and holding the heating pad over her cramping stomach. If she did much more for her, Elsa was pretty sure she would cry.

She must have dozed off at some point for she woke up with a blanket covering them both. Maren was singing softly in her ear, while gentle hands ran through her hair. Her head still ached, but the melody made her feel so safe and secure that her pain melted into the background. Elsa slowly opened her eyes, wanting to see the scene for herself.

"Good morning, snowflake," she said brushing a stray hair away. "Have a good nap?"

The nickname made her blush. It was something new, but something right. Elsa nodded slightly enough for Maren to feel against her chest. "How long was I out for?"

"Not long, maybe an hour. I paused our show."

"Thank you," she mumbled, sleep pulling at her eyes.

"You can go back to sleep," she said softly. "It would probably make you feel better. Your stomach still hurting? I could get you another ibuprofen."

Elsa shook her head. It was rude to sleep while a guest was there, even if she wasn't feeling her best. "Stay with you," she said, words slurred with sleep. "Don't wanna be a bad host."

Maren giggled, making Elsa's heart flutter. Why was she feeling like this from just a simple sound? "You're not a bad host. You can't be a bad host when you're sick."

"Not sick," Elsa mumbled, allowing herself to curl closer into Maren.

"Well you certainly don't feel good." Maren continued to stroke her hair, making loose braids as she spoke. "So go back to sleep and ignore mother nature for a bit. She'll still be there when you're ready to be awake."

Elsa hummed against her. "I'm ready to be awake."

Maren huffed a laugh. "Uh huh."

Elsa gave her own small laugh. "Talk to me. I wanna know what's going on in your world."

"My world, huh? Well I've got the most beautiful girl in the world laying against me." That made Elsa poke at her belly- she wanted to know about other things. "Alright alright. Well there was something I wanted to ask you about." Well that certainly perked her interest.

"My cousin is getting married in a few weeks and I was wondering if you would want to go as my plus one."

"As a date?" Was this her sign? Her way of asking her out?

"It's- it's okay if you don't. I know that we haven't been together long and if meeting my family makes you nervous that's okay. You- you don't have to."

Tears pricked in her eyes. "We're together?"

Maren's eyes went wide. "I thought we were? I thought that first day at the coffee shop was our first date?"

Elsa paled. Oh no, she didn't want Maren to think she wasn't interested. She just didn't know that she thought they were together. "I thought that you just wanted to be friends. I was trying to work up the nerve to ask you out. But now I think that might be moot."

Maren blushed, then got that little look in her eyes- the same one she saw in Anna's when she was about to be mischievous. "Well I'd hate for those nerves to go to waste. Would you like to ask me out?"

Elsa felt her heart start racing. "Now? But you- you already thought we were together?"

"But you didn't," she grabbed her hand and squeezed it right. "So let's get on the same page."

Elsa rubbed at her eyes with her free hand, smiling softly. "Will you, Honeymaren, go with me to a movie as soon as I am able to get off the couch without crying in pain?"

"Oh, snowflake, I would happily. Pick the time and the day," she said teasingly bringing their hands to her face. She ran a hand through Elsa's hair again, noticing her eyes were getting heavy again. "Go back to sleep. We can talk about our date later. I'm getting you some ibuprofen."

Elsa nodded, letting herself fall back against the soft pillows. "I wanna go with you," she murmured.

"Go where, Els?" Maren asked, tucking the blanket around her sleepy form.

"To the wedding. I wanna go with you."

Maren grinned. "Then I'll send our RSVP tomorrow."

In her fleeting consciousness, Elsa couldn't help but feel happy. Maren wanted to be with her. Maren wanted her to meet her family. And that was something worth feeling happy about.

---

"Oh who's a good boy? You're a good boy. Yes you are."

Ryder couldn't help but smile as Kristoff talked to the small dog in front of him. Volunteering at the animal shelter was something he had done since he was sixteen. Usually it was something he did alone. Sharing it with Kristoff was something different, but something right.

He was so good with the animals. It didn't shock him per se. The one time he had gone over to Kristoff's apartment, he saw how the man treated his dog. He was kind and gentle, a very different demeanor than what he usually saw at the coffeehouse.

But Ryder couldn't help but feel like he was doing something wrong. He saw the way that his sister blushed and got flustered over her girlfriend. She would talk about how her heart fluttered when she talked to Elsa or how she just wanted to be close to the other girl. Ryder was happy, but he didn't feel those kinds of things. If he thought about it, he never really felt that desire in his whole life.

He was happy with Kristoff. He made him smile. He had a little extra kick in his step when he entered Mermaid's Siren knowing the boy would be there. But why didn't he want to kiss Kristoff or touch him the way his sister wanted Elsa?

Ryder sighed. Maybe he was just a really late bloomer. He wanted those feelings, but they just weren't there.

Suddenly he felt a hand run through his messy hair. "Why so glum? We're in dog paradise." Kristoff smiled at him, going to sit next to him.

Ryder shook his head. "Just thinking, that's all."

Kristoff nodded with that knowing look. "Is it something that can be helped by Miss Samantha here?" In his arms was a border collie puppy, cuddling close.

Ryder smiled. "Anything can be fixed with a good girl like Miss Samantha." They petted and rubbed her a while, giving her plenty of love and attention. "The only bad thing about volunteering here is sometimes I just want to take them all home with me. That's how I got Nokk after all."

Kristoff nodded with that understanding look that made him melt. "Sven was a rescue too. But who rescued who is still up for debate."

"Yeah?" he asked, curiosity in his eyes.

"Yeah," he nodded again. "Things were tough for a long while. My biological parents died when I was eight. But one of the last things we did together was get Sven from the shelter. Ma and Pa wanted me to have someone to grow up with, even though they didn't want anymore kids. Pa and I picked him out together, this timid German Shepherd. And when Ma and Pa passed and I went to the system, by a miracle Sven was able to stay with me."

Ryder could tell that the story was a lot for Kristoff. His voice had changed and he kept his eyes down. He reached out a gentle hand. "I'm glad you had each other."

"Me too." Kristoff squeezed his hand back.

They didn't talk for a while after. It was an easy silence, working through the dogs' crates, cleaning them and giving them some love. It was nice.

"Hey, Kris?" Ryder eventually asked after a bit.

"Yeah?"

"I've been meaning to ask you. My cousin is getting married in a few weeks. I was wondering if you would want to go with me. I know it's really fast and it's okay if you don't want to and my family barely knows I'm gay but-"

Kristoff shut him up with a quick peck on the lips. "I would love to."

Ryder smiled, a bit dazed from the kiss. "Thank you." A kiss didn't feel like he thought it would. It was soft, sure, but it didn't give him that famous spark everyone talked about. He shook his head, willing himself to return to that topic later. "It's a date then."

"It's a date."

---

"You mean you both got invited to a wedding? What are the odds of that?" Anna asked as she worked on breakfast. Sunday breakfast at the sisters' apartment had become a staple since Anna had moved in. It gave a sense of consistency in a time when everything was changing so quickly around them. Because no matter what stress Elsa's lab brought her or how many rude customers Anna and Kristoff dealt with, pancakes and hash browns and homebrewed coffee made everything better.

"It would appear so," Kristoff said setting plates on the table. "Wonder if it's the same wedding."

"It could be," Elsa said, shrugging in her dark blue blanket. "Mine is a local wedding. I wouldn't be surprised if Honeymaren and Ryder had similar friends."

"Still it just seems odd to me." Anna pondered for a minute as she prepared the potatoes. "Do you two even have anything to wear?"

"Jeans and a button down." They both responded in almost perfect unison.

Anna dropped her spatula. "Oh no you're not. You are not going to a wedding in jeans and a flannel. It's not the end all be all of fashion, guys."

"Says the one in Spiderman pajamas," Elsa teased, moving to flick her sister playfully.

"First off, it's breakfast. We always do breakfast in pajamas. And second off, you two are getting nice clothes for this wedding iI swear to God." She hurriedly finished the food, putting it on the table. "Eat up. We're going shopping after breakfast."

Elsa and Kristoff groaned in unison knowing there was no getting out of this one.

---

“Well don’t you look nice?” Anna teased, looking at her best friend and sister. “Didn’t I tell you this would be better than jeans and flannel? You look like someone I’m proud to claim.”

Elsa rolled her eyes, going to give her sister a gentle knock on the head. “Perhaps, but you know I don’t like admitting when you’re right.” She was stunning in a pair of dress slacks and a silk blue top. Her hair was styled in a gorgeous braided updo, something befitting a queen. Between the hair and her delicate makeup, Anna swore she looked like their mother.

“It takes all the fun out of it,” Kristoff teased. He too looked handsome. Anna finally convinced him to get a pair of pants fitted for him instead of the loose fitting pants he usually wore. They looked perfect on him, highlighting assets that Ryder would be more than thrilled to see. He wore a pale green button down with a black tie.

“Oh shush, both of you.” Anna smiled swatting back at her sister. “Can’t I give you guys compliments?”

“You can, but we might be snarky back. Isn’t that right, Elsa?”

“Absolutely.” Elsa leaned down and pressed a kiss to her sister’s head. “You sure you’ll be alright?”

“I’m fine, promise.” Anna stroked Bruni softly where he laid on the couch. “I have three cats and Netflix. I can occupy myself for a night.”

“Just call if you need anything. You know I’ll come home.” It made Anna roll her eyes a bit. She knew her sister was just being protective, but she deserved some fun too.

“I know you will.” Anna gave her sister’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “Now get going! You’re going to be late!”

Soon after receiving their invitations, Kristoff and Elsa realized they were in fact going to the same wedding. Maren and Ryder apparently had been friends since they were babies in an odd twist of fate. It was weird, but Elsa took solace in the fact that she would be able to stay with both Maren and Kristoff at the wedding. Her social anxiety was improving, but events like this could still serve as a trigger sometimes.

“Go get yourself a drink. It’ll settle your nerves,” Maren encouraged as they waited around for the bridal party at the reception. The ceremony itself had come and gone without much stress. It was a little long; Elsa didn’t realize they had been pulled into a Catholic wedding, but Maren held her hand the whole time making it a bit easier to bear.

The reception however brought its own set of issues. There were too many people, too much noise. The music wasn’t playing yet, but she knew it would be coming soon. Elsa stammered over to the bar. She usually hated alcohol, but she wanted to get through the night. She wanted to enjoy herself and enjoy herself with Maren, not hiding in the bathroom. Elsa ordered a neat whiskey and prayed it would be enough.

“Better?” Maren asked when she returned.

Elsa kept her head down, but nodded. She wasn’t going to ruin this night for Maren.

“Snowflake, you don’t have to lie to me.”

Elsa bit her lip, head still down. “This is just a lot. It makes it hard to breathe, and I don’t want to ruin your night and I don’t want to leave but I don’t want to be here either and my head is fuzzy and I can’t think and-”

“Elsa.”

Maren took her hands, holding tight. It brought her out of her head and back in the moment. “Let’s go for a walk and see how you feel then okay? I don’t want you to feel like you have to stay somewhere that’s making you upset.” Elsa nodded. “Come on.”

The walk helped. Her focus slowly returned and breathing calmed. Maren spoke sweet nothings in her ear, letting her ride the wave of anxiety however she needed to. Elsa was glad she was here, kind and gentle. It wasn’t the first anxiety attack she had in front of Maren, but it was the first when they were alone.

“Thank you,” she mumbled into Maren’s shoulder as they approached the building.

“Anytime.”

The rest of the reception went without much fanfare. Speeches were made, dances were had, and dinner was decent. Elsa found herself having an alright time, alternating between the dance floor and outside for air. It was good.

“Ryder! Maren!” The bride ran up towards their table. “I have to get a picture together with my favorite twins!”

“We’re the only twins you know, Lena,” Ryder teased, coming up and hugging the young woman. “Come on, little sister!”

Maren got up quickly, elbowing him. “Ten minutes doesn’t make that much of a difference.”

Twins? Her girlfriend and her best friend’s boyfriend were twins?

“Kristoff, how-”

“I don’t-”

“Maren never mentioned any siblings.”

“Ryder either.”

“Did they just forget to tell us?”

“Well...” Maren dragged off, rejoining the conversation. “At first yes. But then a few days ago, we realized it should be something to mention. And then someone thought this would be a fun way to find out.”

“Hey! You agreed to it!” Ryder piped in.

“Yeah, yeah I did.” Maren got down in front of Elsa holding her hand. “Are you mad at me?”

Elsa shook her head. It was good natured and funny, how could she be mad? It would take a little bit to the idea that Kristoff’s boyfriend was related to her girlfriend. “This just means that Anna isn’t the only trickster in our group. Now go take a picture with your cousin!”

Secrets could hurt sometimes, but they could be fun sometimes too. It was just a little extra quirk.

#frozen #frohana #rydoff #elsamaren #frozen fanfic #my fic #we're going to a wedding kids #shennanigans ensue

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lovelylogans · 5 years ago

Text

cocoa

part of the wyliwf verse.

the sideshire files | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: mention of puppy mills, dogs, secret-keeping, food mentions, recreational drinking (not to drunkenness) kissing, that’s about it. this one’s mostly fluff, folks.

pairings: moxiety, logince

words: 7,766

notes: bold of you to assume i wouldn’t take the canon dog in gilmore girls WHO WAS ORIGINALLY NAMED COCOA and directly transport it into this verse. picture of the inspiration behind wyliwf!cocoa here as a puppy and here as an adult, btw. she’s a mixed breed, definitely has some chow chow (hence the Fluffy, if u are acquainted w/ mash potato, he is a chow chow) and german shepherd (hence the coloring) along with some other Mystery Breeds in there, so!

thirty-five isn’t exactly a special birthday.

thirty-three, sure, maybe, repeated numbers. thirty? yeah, new decade! but thirty-five—well, it’s just a halfway point, isn’t it? patton doesn’t think there should be much going on in preparation for that. a dinner, a little party/get-together, and patton’d be happy, which he’s told both virgil and logan (and roman, when he wanted an excuse to throw a party.)

so virgil and logan being so evasive over the past couple weeks or so means that patton’s been getting as investigative as logan about what could be going on with the pair of them.

logan, at least, has an excuse—apparently, there was some random, weird deadline for the franklin that logan had run into and had to guide the rest of the staff through—but virgil has just been a little... well, a little strange.

he’s been intent on suddenly patching up the back fence, which he’d been on about when there were rumors of foxes and raccoons getting into trash, but that had been months ago. it seemed like a weird time for this desire to resurface, considering it’s january. there wasn’t really much of a chance of all that when the ground was basically frozen over—patton doesn’t know much about winter habits of foxes and raccoons, but he’s pretty sure they’ve gone for warmer climates, or at least might be sleeping it out.

he’s been reading some kind of articles that he keeps humming at thoughtfully and bookmarking on his phone, patton thinks, except virgil hastily turns off the phone’s screen and turns to smile at patton whenever he tries to peek.

he’s also been furtively ordering things—patton would think it’s birthday presents, except he caught a glance of one of the labels of the boxes and it’s from tiny company that, patton has searched, makes some specialty peanut butter cookies and the like. food is virgil’s thing, he wouldn’t just order it, so maybe patton got the company wrong?

and now...

patton knocks gently on the top of the coffee table, so he doesn’t startle virgil into hitting his head.

“um,” he says. “hey there, honey.”

“hey,” virgil says, forcefully casual.

“can i ask what you’re doing under the coffee table and half under the couch?”

“i, uh,” virgil says, and coughs. “thought i saw something under the couch. cleaning, you know.”

“yeah,” patton says, and settles on the ground. “except you’ve kind of been deep-cleaning the house for the past week.”

“um... yep.”

“i don’t think you could’ve missed something if you’d been trying,” patton says, amused, and reaches out to scratch a little at virgil’s back. the part he can reach, anyway.

“i’m really deep-cleaning,” virgil says.

“i kinda figured.”

“really,” virgil says, “really deep-cleaning.”

patton grins, scratches at virgil’s back again. “did you get whatever was under the couch, then?”

virgil withdraws from the couch, an old piece of paper crumpled up in his hands.

“we should really vacuum under the couches more,” virgil says, and patton leans over to kiss his cheek.

“whatever you say, darling.”

(“how do you feel about dogs?”

virgil glances up from where he’s wiping down the counter—logan, in his chilton blue-and-navy, is sitting at his counter.

“uh, i have generally positive feelings toward dogs?” virgil says. “they’re cute. i’ve never had one. wait, aren’t you supposed to be working at the franklin right now, that random deadline, right?”

ever since logan was told he’d be editor-in-chief of the franklin at the end of his junior year, and now that he’s started his senior year and has been at the helm for over five months, he’s been spending lots long afternoons at the school, deep in the journalism lab, fussing over copy and photos and ap style and page design. virgil’d be worried about him overworking himself, but he knows that mel can, has, and will kick him out if he sticks around for too long, plus dee is there to antagonize him into getting distracted, along with some other chilton friends swinging in and out.

“i made it up,” logan says. “it’s going to be a cover story.”

“a cover story,” virgil repeats slowly. “right. okay. for what?”

logan hesitates, glances around, and says, in a lowered voice to avoid eavesdroppers, “dad’s birthday is in two weeks.”

“right,” virgil says slowly.

“i think we should get him a dog.”

virgil pauses, before he sets aside the rag. “a dog,” he repeats.

“yes,” logan says. “a dog. a canine. canis lupus familiaris.”

“why a dog?” virgil says. “i mean, i know patton wanted one when he was a kid, but, well. your grandparents.”

logan hesitates, just for a moment, before he says, “i’m graduating in may.”

virgil knows this. virgil has had several crises about it. virgil has sat with patton through his various crises about it. virgil could not possibly be more aware that logan is, in fact, about to leave the nest.

“yeah,” he says.

“well,” logan says. “i’d have suggested a cat if he wasn’t allergic, but. he’s been used to taking care of someone or something for all this time. once i’m gone... it just. it might be a good way to cope, that’s all.”

“like the exact reversal of getting a dog to prepare for having kids,” virgil says, starting to get it. “getting a dog to deal with not having a kid around as much anymore.”

“yes. precisely.”

virgil considers this—he considers him and patton in the house, alone. and then he pictures a dog, big, small, medium, resting its head in patton’s lap, patton petting the dog, hugging it. taking the dog for walks and training it—well. it would be hard work. it would be a lot of energy. it’d be a commitment for however long the dog would be alive.

but it would be a comfort, too.

“all right, then. it’s time for me to start researching dogs, i guess.”

“oh, i’ve been researching breeds and training methods and house preparation and shelters in our area for a month now,” logan says briskly, and reaches into his backpack to take out a binder, and virgil really doesn’t know what he’d expected.)

...

(“hey,” virgil says, as logan slides into the passenger’s seat of his car. “how was school?”

“good,” logan says. “i had a pop quiz in latin, i think i did relatively well on it.”

“nice,” virgil says, and pulls out of the parking spot.

this is their second time visiting an animal shelter—they’d dropped by the sideshire one, but realized that they wouldn’t really be able to keep an adoption of an animal secret at home, especially considering that patton sometimes volunteered to walk the dogs there. this time, they were going to a place closer to the city that logan’s research assured them was humane, a nonprofit society, and took part in raids against illegal puppy mills and dog fighting rings—all in all, virgil thought it seemed like a pretty standup shelter.

“okay,” virgil says, as they’re pulling into a parking spot at the shelter. “and we do have a plan for if we find The Dog today, right?”

“they’ll hold a pet for you up to a certain point,” logan says. “i’ve asked mrs. prince and roman, and they said that if we had to bring the dog home earlier than anticipated, they’d be willing to house it.”

virgil nods, absorbing this, and gets out of the car.

“right, then,” virgil says. “let’s go see some dogs.”

they see some dogs. they see a lot of dogs.

they, eventually, see the dog. she’s tiny, and absurdly fluffy, and she eagerly attempts to institute herself in their laps the moment they sit down, demanding pets and treats and love, and she’s too cute for words. she snuffles at them eagerly and wags her tail so hard virgil kind of fears that she’ll fall over to the side, but she’s so energetic she’d probably bound up again immediately, wagging her tail even faster. she’s got big, clumsy paws, and big ears, and a too-long tail, and big, chocolate brown eyes that she’ll probably grow into. when she licks at his chin, he's basically sold immediately.

“virgil,” logan says, in the midst of petting the puppy, examining her temporary plastic collar. “look at her name.”

virgil leans enough to check the little paper sheet full of the information on the outside of the weird room-crate things this shelter’s got going on, and lets out a low whistle.

“right, then,” virgil says. “that’s that.”

“we have a dog,” logan says, with a smile that he hasn’t quite tamped down—virgil realizes, belatedly, this is logan’s first pet outside of the occasional goldfish and smuggled-in-from-the-outdoors frog or turtle, and maybe all the face-licking and snuffling and puppy eyes had sold logan, too.

“we have a dog,” virgil agrees.)

“oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!!!!” patton hears roman squealing from where he’s in the kitchen, and patton leans his head out in time to see roman holding logan’s phone and cooing.

“what’s up?” patton says, toting the two bowls of popcorn he’d been in charge of preparing and settling back down on the couch next to virgil, and roman and logan both look up from the phone, roman grinning.

“oh—nothing,” roman says, and passes logan’s phone back to him. “just a cute, um, dance picture thing, s’all.”

“can i see?” patton asks.

“it was a snapchat,” roman says. “faded away after ten seconds.”

“oh, darn,” patton says. “what movie were we going to watch, again?”

“maybe we should watch lassie,” roman says, voice in that faux-innocent tone he’s been using when he’s up to mischief for years, and logan elbows him hard in the side. patton looks to virgil, confused.

“did i miss something?”

“maybe best if you don’t ask,” virgil advises him, and patton nods, taking a handful of popcorn.

...

patton’s decided to take a page from his son’s book and keep notes about things he’s noticed that are Weird, partially because he’s bored and partially because he’s now very interested in whatever’s going on here.

there’s the whole fence thing, as virgil had spent a good chunk of his saturday hauling out his and patton’s shared toolbox and grumbling irritably at the fence as he patches up holes and makes sure nothing can get into the backyard, sometimes retreating back into the house to stick his hands somewhere on patton’s person in order to warm up and drinking tea before he went back out there.

(“does this seem secure enough to hold a puppy?” virgil asks logan, when he comes out to the yard. “i mean, she’s really small, but she probably couldn’t fit through any of these holes, right? plus she’s growing.”

“she’ll be on a leash most of the time, anyway,” logan points out.

“i know, but—”

“virgil. the fence is fine.”)

he’s also hidden a variety of boxes away somewhere, labels that he’ll cover with his hands and say “don’t look don’t look birthday surprise!” which only makes patton want to look even more, and really, patton doesn’t think he’s a person that virgil needs to get several boxes of gifts for, so he’s dying to figure that one out when the time comes.

(“how does a dog require so much stuff?” logan says disbelievingly, sorting through the latest incoming purchase. “is this order just entirely collars?”

“harnesses, too, but she’ll grow out of them!” virgil says. “so we’ll have ones for when she does, i’m planning.”

“you’re going to spoil this dog,” logan says. “you’ve bought her bandanas.”

“look me in the eyes and tell me that patton wouldn’t love to accessorize his dog with bandanas,” virgil says, pointedly ignoring the suspiciously familiar black bandana with purple plaid stitched on with thick white thread that logan shakes at him accusingly.)

the whole deep-cleaning-the-house thing hasn’t stopped, and sure, it’s nice and tidy, but really, there’s only so much deep cleaning you can do before you can pronounce a two-bedroom, one-and-a-half bath house with one bedroom he wouldn’t go into, considering it’s logan’s room, fully clean, right?

(“i know puppies chew on things, but virgil, this is getting ridiculous,” logan says. “you’ve puppy-proofed the entire house at least five times. if she chews on something at this point, she’s to be commended for her creativity.”

“i just want to be sure she doesn’t choke on anything,” virgil says.

“i am positive the puppy won’t chew on old paper,” logan says pointedly. “and even if she does, if it isn’t a huge thing of paper, she’ll be fine.”

“don’t come crying to me when she throws up in your room, then.”)

he keeps going to the town library? sure, virgil’s a reader—not as much as logan, but maybe no one could ever be as much of a reader as logan is—but usually he brings books home and sets them on the bedside table and reads them gradually, over the course of a few days, but a few people have mentioned to him that they’ve seen virgil in the library, he’s reading books there and not at home, though no one’s really seen exactly what he’s reading.

(“what... is that?”

“um. it—apparently, it’s—i read that if we give her a hot water bottle and a ticking clock near her sleeping area, it imitates the heat and heartbeat of her littermates and helps her get acclimated to her environment better, so—so it’s a clock. for her.”

“virgil. you went out and bought a clock. for the dog.”

“okay, look, whose idea was it to get a dog in the first place?!”

“i haven’t bought a clock for the dog!”)

and now—

“babe,” patton says, dragging his fist across his still-sleepy-bleary eyes and settling his glasses on his nose, and virgil jumps before he pivots.

“hey!” virgil says. “i—sorry, did i wake you up?”

“no, just woke up and saw the time and wondered where you were,” patton says. he’d like to be coordinated about his affection, but he is very sleepy, so he just plods over to virgil and, essentially, walks straight into him until virgil wraps his arms around him with a soft laugh.

“sorry,” virgil murmurs, and kisses his temple. “i’ll be right up, i promise.”

patton peeks around his shoulder, and says, “was filling up some kind of new cookie jar really a huge priority, this time of night?”

“i—no,” virgil admits. “i just kind of got into the swing of doing dishes and wiping down the table and i ended up—well. filling up a new cookie jar.”

“i didn’t even know we got a new cookie jar,” patton says.

“surprise,” virgil says. patton reaches forward, intending to steal one of these apparently-good-enough-to-stay-up-past-midnight-for cookies, and virgil quickly closes a hand over patton’s wrist.

“um, probably not a best idea at this time of night,” virgil says. “sugar’ll keep you up.”

“that is a blatant lie,” patton says, and virgil leans down to kiss him again—quick, almost chaste.

“then it’ll be too much of a fuss to brush your teeth again,” virgil says, and sets the lid on the top of the jar before physically turning patton around. “let’s get to bed, yeah?”

“you’re being weird,” patton says, then decides, “i’ll deal with it in the morning.”

except in the morning, like it’s some kind of strange fever dream, the new cookie jar’s gone.

(”why did you decide to fill up the jar with dog treats in the middle of the night,” logan hisses at virgil as virgil’s making breakfast, logan looking for somewhere to hide the jar before patton comes downstairs, and ends up cramming it in the cupboard under the sink.

“it just happened!” virgil says defensively.)

...

the thing about instituting house rules for birthdays is that they tend to get thrown back at you.

“but i can—“

“no,” virgil says, from where he’s double-checking that the streamers will stay up if someone leans against the wall. “house rules. it’s your house, you know them.”

“virgil,” patton grumbles. “you wouldn’t be ruining my birthday if i helped with my decorations—”

“nope,” virgil says. “if i wasn’t allowed to cook on my birthday, you’re not allowed to decorate.”

patton sinks back against the couch with a huff, crossing his arms.

it’s been a very nice birthday, generally speaking. virgil made a massive breakfast, eggs and hashbrowns and bacon and biscuits and chocolate croissants and donuts, and didn’t monitor his hot cocoa/coffee consumption, for once, and logan and roman had swung by for breakfast before swinging out again (“i’m under oath,” roman had said solemnly, when patton asked them what they were up to) and they still haven’t come back, even though the party’s due to start in ten minutes.

once virgil has triple-checked everything, and fetched patton a glass of wine, he tugs patton to his feet and wraps his arms around him, smiling down at him.

“hi,” patton says, not quite able to keep the grudging tone he’d been trying to go for.

“hey,” virgil says. “happy birthday.”

a smile breaks out on patton’s face, even when he’s very sure he’d tried not to let that happen. “you’ve told me that already.”

“and i’ll probably say it again,” virgil says, and he leans down to kiss patton, and kiss him, warm and soft and the best kind of overwhelming, and patton really regrets having to break the kiss in order to breathe, but he very much likes the small, needy, breathless sound that virgil makes when he does.

the doorbell rings, and patton groans, leaning his head against virgil’s chest.

“the timing of whoever’s at the door,” he informs virgil’s sternum, “is terrible.”

virgil snorts and drops a kiss to the top of patton’s head, and patton reluctantly disentangles himself from virgil in order to answer it.

he really should have expected who it is.

“patton,” his father says. “happy birthday.”

“thanks, dad, mom,” patton says, and steps aside so that they can file into his house.

“hi richard, emily,” virgil says. “do you want something to drink?”

“stoli on the rocks with a twist, if you can manage it,” emily says.

“richard? oh, patton, here’s your wine,” virgil adds, pushing the glass into his hands again.

richard requests scotch.

“i can—”

“absolutely not,” virgil says, and presses a kiss to his cheek. “stay out here in case anyone comes to the door, yeah?”

patton sighs, and does.

the party fills up in waves—isadora and emily are engaging in some kind of silent stare-off in the corner as richard has, once again, escaped from a party with a magazine in hand—and soon enough, patton’s busy entertaining people and making the rounds. it fills up so slowly that patton almost doesn’t notice until he ducks back into the kitchen to check on virgil, how chaotic it is, how it’s just a bit too noisy—he thinks that most of the inn’s employees have shown up, as well as his friends and neighbors from throughout sideshire.

and when he gets into the kitchen, the quiet nearly overwhelms him. patton has to lean against a counter and let out a slow breath when it hits him.

virgil glances up from where he’s been topping off some snack bowls, and sets them aside.

“hey there,” he says, and drops a kiss on top of patton’s head—patton’s cheeks flush, feeling warmer than he already is, and he beams up at him.

“hi,” patton says.

“having fun?”

"mhm,” patton says, and winds his arms around virgil. “missing my fella, though.”

virgil smiles down at him, soft, and brushes a curl off his forehead.

“i have had,” patton informs him, “some wine.”

virgil’s grin grows a bit more wry. “that so?”

“i haven’t caught anyone at it, but someone keeps filling up my glass and i suspect remy,” patton says.

“yeah, he would,” virgil grumbles.

“i’ll understand what’s going on between you two someday,” patton says—the slightly-joking-but-not-really rivalry between them has bemused patton for years now.

virgil snorts, once. patton’s about to poke fun at him a bit more, but there’s the chime of a text message, and virgil digs his phone out of his pocket.

“it’s logan,” he says. “i’m just gonna make sure that he’s got your surprise all set.”

“it has to be brought into the house?” patton says, and blinks up at him. “but what about all those boxes?”

“you’ll see,” virgil says, and twines his fingers with patton’s, tugging him out into the living room. patton gets parked soundly on the couch.

“wait here.”

“for my surprise?”

“for your surprise,” virgil confirms, and patton squeezes virgil’s hand tight before he lets him go.

“a surprise?” dot, his neighbor, asks.

“in five or so minutes,” patton says. “or, whenever virgil and logan come back, i guess.”

“oh, the surprise,” babette says, and winks at morey—neither of them holding cinnamon, which is strange, considering their cat comes with them everywhere. “morey, the surprise is coming.”

“you know what it is?”

“know what what is?” sookie asks, looking up from the tray of canapés she’s brought and is still experimenting with.

patton’s distantly aware that other people are disrupting their own conversations in order to turn attention to his, but he can’t really care right now.

“my birthday surprise,” patton tells sookie. “virgil’s been acting weird for the past couple weeks, and apparently all the investigative skills in the family went to logan, because i’ve been trying to figure it out and i’ve got zilch.”

“well, it is a surprise,” sookie says reasonably.

“babs?”

“sorry, sugar,” babette says, and patton sighs. just a little.

“well, i’ll find out soon, i guess,” patton says.

...

“hey,” virgil says.

“hello,” logan says, holding tight to the leash; the puppy is teething at the leash, too, still attempting to walk forward even though logan’s come to a stop.

“hi,” roman adds, holding the box that virgil had gotten specifically for this.

there’s a bit of weight on virgil’s shoe—the puppy’s come forward, set her little paws on his boots, and is sniffing eagerly at his jeans.

“hi,” virgil says (he does not coo) and leans down to pet her, scratching behind her ears, before he glances up to see roman grinning at him.

virgil coughs, and says, gruff, “here, give me the leash, i can get her ready for the surprise.”

logan hands over the leash, and roman sets down the box, before he digs out—

“seriously?”

“if you’re getting a dog as a birthday present, you have to put a bow around her neck, it’s practically the law,” roman says. virgil sighs and snatches it away.

“fine, fine,” he says. “go inside, text me when everything’s all set.”

roman takes logan’s hand, and logan pulls him toward the house; there’s a swell of music as the front door opens, then closes.

“okay,” virgil tells the dog. “um. so, you’re about to meet patton.”

the puppy continues to chew at her leash, still looking at him with her chocolate brown eyes.

“patton’s the best,” he tells her. “and he’s gonna love you, and we’re—you know. we’re gonna take care of you, and—and we’ve never taken care of a dog before, but we managed to raise a kid okay, and you’ve never lived with humans before, so we’re both new at this. we’ll do the best we can. okay?”

the dog tilts her head.

“i’m talking to a puppy,” virgil mutters, and shakes his head. “right, then. let’s get you all set.”

he puts the puppy into the box—it’s got a lid and a box, both separately wrapped, it has a blanket in the bottom, and cut-out handles so that virgil can carry her, and so that she gets air—and carefully removes her leash.

“comfy?” he asks.

she sits.

“good girl,” he murmurs, because reinforcing praise is important, and pets her for a bit. he looks at the bow roman had given him—big and red, of course—before he carefully ties it to her collar. she attempts to nip at it, before virgil wiggles his fingers in front of her face, distracting her.

“okay,” virgil says. “we can just sit here and wait until logan or roman texts us, yeah? and i can just keep petting you.”

so he does—at once point, virgil’s practically in the box with her because it turns out the puppy very much likes belly rubs, but it also turns out that fingers are, potentially, the best teething tool of all time (virgil is familiar with this, but it’s been about sixteen or so years since logan’s needed to chew at his fingers) so she is very conflicted between letting virgil scratch her belly and chewing at virgil’s fingers.

virgil’s phone buzzes, and virgil removes a hand in order to check—logan’s said He’s ready—and leans in to peek at the puppy.

“okay,” he says. “i’m gonna put the lid on, and i’m gonna carry you around for a little, but you’ll be out of the box soon, okay? and you’ll meet patton, who i’m sure will spoil you rotten and pet you until you’re sick of it.”

she wags her tail.

“cool,” virgil says, and carefully sets the lid on the box, and even more carefully picks up the box, making sure that the box stays level.

before he has to consider how he’s going to hold this (frankly kind of absurdly too big) box and open the door, roman opens the door for him, grinning. also, he’s holding his phone horizontally, which means he’s definitely recording this.

patton’s smiling, but there’s a curious glint in his eyes as virgil shuffles slowly forward, very conscious of the tiny little puppy in the box that he doesn’t want to jostle.

the people at the party have also ringed around the room—babette and morey, who have remembered not to bring cinnamon, since he doesn’t know how the puppy will react to a cat, dot and larry, sookie and michel, and emily has somehow managed to pull richard away from his magazine, among everyone else—watching as virgil carefully sets the box at patton’s feet.

"logan just told me that the deadline was a cover story,” patton tells virgil. “you’re in trouble.”

virgil grins. “all of this was logan’s idea in the first place, actually. i thought it was a real deadline too until he brought me in on it.”

patton huffs, put-upon. “well,” he says airily, and elbows logan jokingly, “this better be a good surprise, then.”

“open it and see,” virgil says.

patton leans forward, and begins to pry off the lid. virgil waits with bated breath.

as soon as he gets the lid off and seems to catch a glimpse of what’s inside, patton squeals in shock, jerking away from the box, and for a second virgil thinks they’ve horribly miscalculated and patton’s actually afraid of dogs, but that’s before he leans right back forward again and reaches down to pet the puppy.

“hi,” patton croons, and then he starts to giggle—before he puts his hands over his face, before he peeks out again, like he was checking to be sure that the puppy wasn’t a hallucination and that she wouldn’t disappear as soon as he took his eyes off her. and then he looks at virgil, eyes bright and eager and excited, laughing the whole time.

“is this real?!” patton demands between giggles.

“of course it’s real,” logan says, and patton puts his hands over his face for a second, before leaning back forward and reaching down to pet the dog.

“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” patton repeats, and, with a jolt, virgil realizes that he’s crying, and patton meets eyes with him, beaming hugely, and virgil feels some kind of unnameable emotion swell up in his chest—the closest he can get to identifying it is joy.

“hello,” patton repeats to the puppy, then, to virgil, “can i hold it?”

“do whatever you want, she’s your dog,” virgil points out, unable to stop his own smile.

“she’s a girl?”

“she’s a girl,” logan confirms, “ten weeks old,” and patton carefully reaches in, still giggling all the while, and carefully hoists the dog into his lap, therefore bringing the dog into the view of the rest of the room, which makes a variety of gasping, cooing noises that are really exactly what a surprise puppy deserves.

“oh my gosh,” patton repeats, and giggles even louder when the puppy sniffs at his face, and licks the tears off his cheeks. “oh, my gosh, hi there, sweetheart!”

the puppy squirms, and patton adjusts his grip, staring.

“she’s so fluffy,” he says in awe. “oh, my gosh, she’s like a teddy bear, look at how fluffy she is!”

the puppy is, indeed, very fluffy, and very stuffed-animal-esque in her adorable-ness, and patton sniffles, burying his face in her fur, just for a moment. the puppy wiggles a little, in order to keep licking and sniffing at patton, so patton resurfaces after a few seconds, crying harder than ever.

patton’s grinning, so virgil’s pretty sure he’s crying because he’s happy, but he wants to be sure, so—

“do you like her?” virgil asks hesitantly.

“i love her,” patton sobs, and virgil climbs onto the couch, so that he can wrap an arm around patton’s shoulders and kiss him on the cheek.

“i can’t believe you got me a puppy,” patton chokes out, and sniffles noisily, before pressing a kiss to the puppy’s forehead and settling her on his lap.

“logan, technically, campaigned for you to get a puppy, i was just the one who was legally able to adopt her,” virgil says, and patton turns to logan, smiling.

“you should check her collar,” logan suggests, before patton can get any more emotional than he already is.

“her collar?” patton says.

“her name,” virgil elaborates. “which the shelter gave her and you can change it, if you want to, but—”

“you won’t want to,” logan says.

patton adjusts the bow, and takes hold of the little temporary tag virgil’s gotten her, before they can register her with the vet near sideshire and make sure that they’ve got record of all her shots and the fact that she’s been spayed and microchip her so on, and takes a moment to read it. his jaw drops.

“no way,” he says.

“way,” virgil says.

“her name is cocoa?” patton gasps. “that’s perfect!”

“told you,” logan murmurs.

“hi, cocoa!” patton croons to the puppy, holding her up in a way that’s vaguely reminiscent of lion king, except it’s at face-level and looking toward him. “hi there, my sweet girl! are you cocoa? i think you are!”

cocoa wriggles in protest, attempting to lean forward and lick patton’s face, and patton holds her tight in his arms, face just glowing, and yeah, wow, this was an amazing idea, go logan.

“so you’re definitely okay with the surprise pet,” virgil checks, and patton laughs, leaning forward to kiss him, the puppy attempting to free herself from between them, and it’s one of those amazing, perfect moments that virgil will keep with him forever, not to sound sappy or anything.

the party’s basically permanently derailed, after that.

people approach the puppy in groups, which means that virgil learns a bit more about cocoa: she likes fetch, but only for one or two throws before she gets distracted by something else. she really likes it when you scratch her neck, under her collar, because her back leg starts doing that thumping thing that dogs do when you’ve hit the sweet spot. she likes to play tug of war, which is normal, but she grabs onto pant legs with her teeth and clings even as she gets dragged around the room, so they’ll have to train her out of that.

he also hasn’t really been able to seen her walk around a room, but since she’s got stubby little puppy legs and too-big paws that she needs to grow into, she practically waddles, which is both hilarious and adorable, and virgil witnesses her trip over her paws a couple times, which is cute, even if his heart stops and he half-lunges toward her in the time that it takes for her to re-establish her balance, tail wagging, and continue happily toddling along her intended path.

patton’s attention to most of the rest of the party is lost, too, since he keeps sitting on the floor and playing with the puppy, following her from group to group and randomly bursting into giggles at the sight of her doing something even slightly adorable, which, considering she is a very cute dog, is very often. he occasionally leans down to scoop her up into her arms and kiss her, which, well, virgil remembers him doing something similar with logan when logan was first able to walk reliably enough but still stumbling every few steps, so he probably shouldn’t be surprised.

patton is also half the reason the puppy is getting introduced to everyone. case in point:

“this is your grand-dog,” patton tells emily cheerfully, holding cocoa out in a way that emily would be able to take him. “you can hold her, she’s very light and very soft and very fluffy.”

emily looks like she’s about to decline the offer, like she doesn’t want cocoa to shed all over her fancy skirtsuit, before she sees virgil mouthing hold the goddamn dog behind patton’s head. she sighs, but she holds the dog, in a way that clearly denotes that she has never held a dog before—hands under cocoa’s armpits, letting her legs dangle in the air.

she stares at cocoa. cocoa stares at her, legs paddling in the air.

“you can hold her like a baby,” patton says helpfully, “that’s okay too” and emily adjusts her grip accordingly.

and then she just. holds the dog. she doesn’t pet cocoa or anything. she’s just holding cocoa like a baby.

“isn’t she cute?!” patton says happily.

“...certainly,” emily says stiffly.

“i love her,” patton says.

“hmph,” she says, “well,” and passes cocoa back to patton, before she swipes her hands across her jacket, attempting to discard the fur.

“i’m gonna introduce her to dad,” patton says happily, and goes off to find richard as emily continues to sweep her hands across her shirt.

virgil digs the lint roller out of his hoodie, and holds it out.

"ah,” she says.

she brushes it along, and, once she’s satisfied, she moves to hand it back, before she pauses.

“where did you get this dog?” she asks suspiciously, as if virgil has specifically gotten a flea-infested rabid dog for the sole purpose of getting her to hold it, so it can infect her.

“a shelter,” virgil says.

“which one?” she says. “is it reputable?”

“you were on their donor wall,” virgil says, non-chalant. “so i’d sure hope so.”

she pulls a face at him—well, the emily equivalent of pulling a face. so, virgil one, emily zip.

“what breed is she?”

“german shepherd, chow mix,” virgil says mildly. “there’s some other breeds in there too, we think, but—”

“you should have gone to a breeder.”

“she was a rescue from a puppy mill,” virgil says, even more mildly, “so—“

emily sighs, long and irritated, before she says doubtfully, “it was logan’s idea to get a dog.”

“yep, it was,” virgil says.

“why would logan suggest a dog?” emily says, and virgil glances around—richard is holding the dog slightly better, and tilting his head at it with the same curiosity that he does at a headline about “the youths.”

“he’s worried about patton empty-nesting in the fall,” virgil says. “he wanted to be sure that patton still had something to take care of, so. dog.”

“and that was logan’s idea,” she says. “not yours.”

“...yeah,” virgil says.

“you must have had some other idea for patton’s birthday,” she says, as if doubting that virgil has not masterminded the whole dog plot and cocoa will eventually be trained into a vicious attack dog that specifically goes for white people in the upper tax bracket, or something, as if she is not currently chasing a ball tossed by richard, and then she slides and wipes out in a hilarious fashion before scrambling back onto her paws, tail wagging, panting eagerly, looking like the clumsiest and least threatening dog that had ever lived.

and virgil thinks about the jewelry stores he’s got listed in his private notes, the inspiration rings he’s got saved in about seven randomly named, nested folders on his password-protected laptop that you can’t find without searching for it specifically, the budget that he’s already schemed out, the various ideas that he’ll probably ask logan to help fine-tune, and he shrugs.

“nothing that can’t wait.”

...

patton’s still kind of in shock, but, like, the best kind of shock.

because. he has a dog. he has a dog!!! the surprise is a puppy!

she’s adorable! patton loves her already! whenever he looks at her it feels like his heart is made of melty gooey marshmallows!

“no cocoa baby don’t eat that,” patton says, gently removing a piece of wrapping paper from her mouth. she attempts to follow it, despite the fact that he puts it out of her reach, and he puts a dog toy (virgil has been pulling out absurd amounts of dog supplies from every hidden nook and cranny in the house since the party ended) in her line of sight instead, squeaking it. cocoa takes that instead, lying down with a little thump, gnawing it at it.

“so, the way i get you to follow your own house rules is to give you a puppy,” virgil says, amused, picking up the wrapping paper and putting it in the trash bag that he’s filling with trash from the party, “got it.”

patton grins up at him sheepishly. “i could help if you—”

“nope,” virgil says, “absolutely not,” and runs his fingers through patton’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp, before he goes to sweep the coffee table of discarded paper plates and napkins.

“god, she’s so cute,” roman gushes, from where he and logan are sitting across from patton, the three of them kind of boxing cocoa in, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “i love her floppy little ears, and her big ol’ eyes, and her fluffy perfect face—”

“she is an aesthetically pleasing dog,” logan agrees.

she is. she’s varying shades of brown, fawn and chocolate and chestnut and coffee and taupe, with a splash of white on her chest. her ears are a gradient of the varying shades of brown, and her snout is the same dark color as the edges of her ears. her fluff levels are truly off the charts, and she has pink little beans for toes, and her eyes are so soulful that patton’s genuinely going to get beaten out in the “best-puppy-dog-eyes-in-the-house” competition, though he passively wonders if she still counts considering she is a puppy dog, but—

“jeez, logan, you don’t have to be so sentimental about it,” roman teases.

cocoa squeaks her toy in agreement. it’s shaped like a mallard, with a goofy, cartoonish grin on its bill.

gradually, naturally, the conversation dies down, and they’re all left in a companionable silence, except for the occasional murmur of “you comfy?” between his son and his son’s boyfriend, and patton softly entreating cocoa with a variety of pet-centric nicknames that he can barely make sense of—sweet girl, fuzzyface, sugarbun, marshmallow, kissyface—and eventually, cocoa flops onto her side and snoozes with a variety of tiny puppy snoring noises, and patton’s heart’s so full it feels like it might burst.

and once the house is relatively clean (a bit impossible to be fully clean, with the clutter that’s so ingrained into the house it’s practically a piece of furniture, patton barely notices it anymore) virgil settles onto the ground with patton with a soft huff, and briefly leans his head against patton’s shoulder, before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“good birthday?”

“amazing birthday,” patton corrects. “fantastic birthday. really spectacular birthday.”

virgil smiles, just a little. “good.” a pause, and then, “late, though.”

patton stifles his smile—virgil fussing about food and caffeine intake and about his sleep schedule has really been happening for as long as they’ve known each other. “you’re right,” he agrees. “i—d’you think cocoa needs to go out?”

“probably,” virgil agrees. “i’ll go with you.”

patton nods, and reaches out to scoop cocoa into his arms—she stirs a little, before settling in his arms just like a slumbering baby, and okay, patton might cry a little, she’s so cute?!

“remember to sleep out in the living room,” patton reminds. “don’t stay up too late, kids.”

he gets “we won’ts” that he’s not sure how close they’ll stick to, and a “happy birthday” from roman and a hug from his son, as virgil trails him toward the backyard. patton descends the patio steps, before he carefully places cocoa, paw-first, onto the grass. she folds herself up and it seems like she’s content to continue sleeping in the grass.

“no,” patton scolds, in a half-laugh, putting her on her paws again. “c’mon, puppy, do your business, and then you can sleep for as long as you want.”

cocoa seems to sigh, before she toddles forward a few steps, nose firmly stuck to the grass to sniff and investigate, and arms come around patton’s waist. patton smiles, leaning back into the warmth of it—january birthdays meant sometimes white birthdays, which were cool, but the cold was just something else—tilting his chin a little, and virgil obligingly presses a kiss to his cheek.

“you’re seriously good with the surprise pet,” virgil checks, and patton huffs a laugh, leaning back against virgil’s chest and securing his grip on virgil’s wrists, to keep him there.

“i’m seriously good with the surprise pet,” patton promises, and he feels virgil’s warm breath of relief against his ear.

“okay, cool,” virgil says, and admits, “i figured you probably would be cool with a dog, generally, since you walk dogs at the shelter a lot, but—”

“i love her,” patton says, leaning a little to see virgil’s face. “thank you.”

virgil flushes, and patton doesn’t think it’s just because of the cold.

“it was logan’s idea,” he mumbles.

“i know,” patton says, and then, “did he tell you why?”

virgil hesitates, before he shrugs. “empty-nesting,” he says.

“ah,” patton says quietly.

the fact that his baby is going to college has been on his mind every single day, since logan first got back his test scores and started sketching out plans at the kitchen table. patton’s been with him to visit a few colleges, and he’s—well, kids grow up, right? that’s what they’re supposed to do.

it doesn’t mean that the idea doesn’t make patton sad and anxious and really eager for some way to slow down time, too.

patton shakes himself, and says, “his idea, huh?”

“yep.”

patton starts to smile again, and he says, “i bet it wasn’t his idea to get her specialty peanut-butter treats, though.”

“...no.”

“or a ton of bandanas for her to wear. including a custom one that looks like your hoodie.”

“...well—”

“or the tons of harnesses and collars, or the big bed that we aren’t fully sure she’ll grow into, or all the toys, or—”

“i get it, i get it,” virgil grumbles. patton leans up to peck a quick kiss to his lips, turning more fully in his arms and wrapping his arms around virgil’s neck.

“i love that about you,” he says.

“what?” virgil says.

“you’re a carer,” patton says. “you’re all gruff and grumbly on the outside, but if you see someone who needs help or needs to be taken care of, you’re all like, oh yes, of course, here’s this friends and family discount, what do you mean it’s brand new, this has always been here, or inviting them to your family’s christmas, or helping take care of their son, or offering couches to crash on and shoulders to cry on.”

patton pauses, and allows, smiling, “or cleaning up the house to make sure that they won’t find anything they’ll accidentally choke on, or patching up the fence so she can’t get out and nothing can get in, or doing secret research at the town library.”

and virgil’s flush definitely isn’t from the cold. virgil swallows, and says, in a voice that’s just a little bit shy and quiet, “it’s your birthday.”

“i know,” patton says simply. “i’m allowed to be sappy on my birthday.”

“course you are,” virgil says, and patton leans up to kiss him, before he turns back to squint out at the lawn. or at least, he means to.

because virgil’s fingers around his wrist prevent him from doing that, and before patton can ask, virgil’s bending just a little to press their lips together, cupping his face between both of his hands, and patton feels his heart do that happy little flutter it always seems to do around virgil. patton sighs, and if his eyes weren’t closed—when had he done that?—he’d be sure that it’d be a puff of steam in the cold air. virgil takes advantage of it, pressing in, so overwhelming but so gentle and patton can only wrap his arms around virgil’s neck and hang on tight.

when they part, patton blinks up at him, dizzy and dazed in the best kind of way.

“what was that for?”

“i’m allowed to kiss you on your birthday,” virgil teases him, smirking just a bit, and patton grins right back, hoping it looks as full of promise as he wants it to be. he leans in to kiss him again, but he’s interrupted by the sound of soft snuffling at their feet, and they both glance down.

cocoa’s staring up at them with an expression she could have gotten straight from logan—like, really, dads?

“okay, okay,” patton allows with a slight laugh, bending to pick her up again. “good girl, we get it, we can go back inside.”

virgil does lean in and give him a kiss over cocoa’s head, though, and patton beams at him with his arms full of fluffy, ten-week-old dog.

they climb the stairs, and virgil moves to the closet, and patton collapses onto the bed, letting cocoa down. she paces a few circles, before she curls up into a cozy-looking ball.

virgil glances back, and says, “patton.”

“what?” patton says innocently, sitting on the bed beside cocoa.

“if we want her to sleep in her actual bed, we have to start training her early,” virgil says.

“she’ll be lonely,” patton points out.

“i specifically bought her a hot water bottle and a clock to make sure that wouldn’t happen,” virgil says.

“um—?”

“hot water bottle to simulate warmth and clock to simulate the heartbeat of her littermates, to help her adjust,” he explains, and yeah, wow, patton adores him.

“virgil, i hate to point out the obvious,” patton says, grinning, “but i happen to know two people who get pretty warm in their sleep and who both happen to have heartbeats.”

virgil hesitates.

“just for tonight?” patton says, pouting just a little. “for my birthday.”

virgil sighs. “i know what you’re doing,” he grumbles.

“you can think about it,” patton says, and gets up to tug lightly at virgil’s hand. “we can do some other stuff, first.”

virgil’s eyes start to get that dark, familiar gleam that makes a secret, almost illicit-feeling thrill shoot down patton’s spine.

but later, when they both slide under the covers that night, freshly showered and fully intent on going straight to sleep this time, virgil makes no noises of protest about the cuddly ball of fluff that’s nuzzled her way between their bellies, and even when her tiny paws dig into their stomachs in her sleep, and she wakes them up when she adjusts, and they both have to contort into awkward positions rather than wake the dog and move her, virgil doesn’t make a noise of protest.

she never really ends up trained to sleep in her own bed at night, either.

#my post #text #the sideshire files #my fic #Two Fics In One Day Babyyyyyy

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jason-todd-deserved-better · 6 years ago

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Illyrian Fae AU - Damian Wayne x Reader Headcanon

Summary: Most humans should be indoors before the sun sets, but you, on the other hand, get held up at work. Will you make it safely back home or does certain doom come into your future.

A/N: Hello hello hello, it’s been a good minute since I’ve done a headcanon let alone actually post anything in over a month. Hehehe... I’m sorry. I’ve been working on other stories, one you guys have been asking me to post for the past six months. ( It’s Tim’s version of WttDCU, I swear I haven’t abandoned it, just that story I’m doing a little differently, and it keeps getting longer the more I try, so maybe I’ll make it two parts? Maybe 3? IDK perhaps longer?) But anyway I’ve been mulling this idea over in my head the past few months, and so I’m doing another series, but this time the boys are all different mythical creatures. Plus if you’ve read A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas, then you’d know this is where I got the idea to make Damian a fae with bat wings. I’m very cheesy. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you guys think! Love Y'all! Also, I don’t think this needs to be said but I’m doing so anyway, this is an Older Damian Wayne.

Most days you can make it home with enough time to make sure that there was still sunlight outside so you would have enough time to buy groceries if you wanted and make it back in relative safety before things got bad.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

Plus you needed to get a bag of dog food because you ran out the night before and you didn’t have anything else for the big German Shepherd that is probably snoozing on the couch at this very moment.

You had got out of work fairly late today, but the sun was still out, so you prayed to the gods that you’d make home before any creature, beast or ill-intended human, were out and about.

But as you walked outside the doors, plastic bags of groceries hanging in each of your hands, the pink and now mostly purple hues of dusk were there to welcome you.

Cursing under your breath, you now wished you had gone to the apartment and brought along Ember with you, he’d be able to ward off any unwanted attention.

Sadly, you didn’t have your dog, and you had to take the walk home alone.

Oh how you wished you just went home, you thought.

Walking along the sidewalk, you watched the sunset, your pace along with your pulse hurrying the more it fell in the sky.

You weren’t fast enough.

You were a mere few feet away from your apartment complexes entrance before you were pulled into the dark alleyway, head banging against the brick wall you were pushed up against.

Too stunned to move you felt your assailant’s body press you up on the wall, breathing along your neck.

A vampire, you thought, your fight or flight response flaring up as you now struggle as hard as you could.

Which did absolutely nothing to release you from his grip.

”No use fighting, Little Morsel,” The male takes a good whiff of your neck, opening his mouth to reveal his pointed fangs. “I’m starving.”

Just as you thought that he was going to stick his teeth into you, a force pulled off the vampire and without anything now holding you up, you slid down the wall watching the scene in front of you with shocked eyes.

The vampire was now aggressively fighting against your rescuer, but he was no match for the sheer power he was up against.

The fight was too fast for your human eyes, other than a few glimpses of the two going across the whole alleyway.

And as fast as it started, it ended with the now limp body of the vampire being haphazardly thrown away from your rescuer, a piece of wood from a crate at the dead end of the alleyway poking out of his chest.

The male's back was facing you, looking at the body of the vampire.

But your eyes weren’t looking at that, but the large memberous black wings of a bat that were folded neatly to his back in the tight alleyway, but they trailed upward, your mind going a mile a minute as you saw his pointed ears.

Fae. Illyrian.

Strong by blood and warrior by culture and species, oh man what did you get yourself into?

Usually, they’d stay as far away from humans as possible. Why the hell did he help you?

Slowly pushing yourself up on the wall, you were about to high-tail it out of there, but then you see a large gash on his leg.

And you hesitate.

Oh, you were going to regret this.

”H-Hey, are you okay?”

Turning his head slightly his electric green eyes give you an odd look.

”Shouldn’t you be running home now, girl?” His face held a deadpan expression.

”You’re the one bleeding here, not me,” You said, a slight bite sneaking into your voice.

”And you’re a walking blood bag out in the open at night.”

This male has got to be joking.

”Dude, you are literally bleeding,” You motion to his leg with your hand, “I know that the Vamps don’t like the taste of Fae, but the starving ones will eat just about anything,”

He turned around, his mouth opening to say something else but he stumbles slightly as he uses his injured leg.

He catches himself on the wall, cursing under his breath.

Sighing, you slowly step closer, “Look, my apartment is the next building, I got a first-aid kit that you could use.”

”Why.” Was his emotionless response.

You could feel your eye twitch, “Because you are bleeding out in the open, Vampire Chow.”

He lets out an amused chuckle, ”Heh, look at who is talking, human.”

So this is how you end up helping a 200 something pound mass of muscle and wings, up the staircase and into your apartment.

Ember was shocked and terrified of the Illyrian Fae that was now taking his spot on the couch.

You had left to find the kit in your bathroom, and when you came back to the living room, where you found them in the same place you had left them, staring each other down,

There was a lot of malice coming from Ember’s end.

None was coming from the Fae’s, just a hint of confusion as he sat with his wings hanging off the back of the couch.

Geez, he was huge.

”He’s just protective,” You say, putting the supplies on the couch next to him, “Most of the time he’s a couch potato though,”

He lets out a grunt in understanding, so you take this time to get the wound cleaned out.

”Hey aren’t these things supposed to heal on their own though?” You say starting to disinfect the wound.

”Vampires have a venom that makes it harder for a wound to close,” His voice was condescending as if you should have known this by now.

”Huh,” Was all you responded, now putting an ointment that would close the wound in a couple of hours.

You have got to love a witches’ potion that helps instead of harm.

Once you finished wrapping up his wound, he didn’t stay long; he left saying that he would be fine since his wings were just fine.

He didn’t even say thank you.

But whatever, you just were ready to put this day behind you, grateful to be alive.

A couple of weeks pass, and unfortunately, you find yourself in the same predicament as you did before, stuck out in the night alone.

”You seriously are as stupid as you look.” A voice says less than an inch from the back of your ear.

You let out an undignified yelp, turning around to face the smug look of the Illyrian’s face.

”D-Don’t do that!” You squeak.

”Well don’t be out at night, stupid human.”

Your eyes narrow, “FIrst off I ain’t stupid, I just have the worst luck ever, and what the hell are doing here dude?”

”Making sure you make it back in one piece, wouldn’t want Ember to be left alone.”

This took you off guard. “Okay Bats, my dog was giving you the stink eye the whole time you were there, why would you care?”

”There are only two truly innocent beings out there, animals and children. Last time I checked your dog counts as one,” Again he goes with the whole attitude bit

That left you speechless and motionless.

You only snapped back to reality when he grabbed you by the arm and started to drag you to your apartment.

”Yo, I don’t need you to walk me there!” You say, surprising yourself when you were able to pull yourself away.

He turned his head slightly, “Well I’m the best bet you got from the two humans waiting to mug you just around the next block.”

”Wait- How-”

”Fae ears, girl.”

”Of freaking course…”

So the two of you now set off towards the apartment, and when you pass the block, you see two men at the entrance of the alley, who back up once they see the Fae’s strong wings displayed defensively.

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Got to love Gotham…”

Bats’ only reaction was a smug half-smile that stayed on his face as he made sure you made it to the apartment safely.

This cycle continued every time you had to work late and weren’t able to make it home before the sunset.

Hell one time he just lifted you and flew you home.

You weren’t happy about it, and you might have given him a good kick in the stomach.

He was an ass for the rest of the night.

Though he never just up and carried you away, he learned his lesson.

But unfortunately, it was happening more often than you were leaving work late.

And he noticed.

”Seriously, why do you keep doing this to yourself, stupid human?” He questioned, clearly annoyed.

You groan in exasperation, “Can you stop calling me that?! I’ve got a name, and I don’t have a damn choice.”

”What do you mean you don’t have a choice,” He questions, pulling you to look at him. “And you’ve never have given me your name.”

”If I don’t do what I need to do then I get fired, do you know how hard I worked to get that job? Extremely!” You yell, yanking your arm from his grip and walking away from him, “Plus, you never gave me yours so why should I give you mine?”

You hear him growl behind you, walking to catch up.

”It’s Damian, are you happy now?” He said, standing in front of you.

You stop, looking into his fiery green eyes, not able to hold their gaze for long, the rest of the walk spent in silence until you make it to the door of your complex.

But before you do, he stops you by grabbing your wrist and with the other, he puts a card in it.

”Call this number, tell them that you’re looking for a position and that I recommended you to them.”

You stand there, looking at the card until you feel him pull him away, turning his back to leave.

”W-Wait, Damian!” You stutter, “It’s (Y/N),”

He turns around a surprised expression on his face until a small smile grows across his face as he extends his wings and with a powerful thrust, he’s gone.

The next day you call the number on the card, and before you knew it, you have a job interview.

A couple of days later you were now the new employee at Wayne Enterprises.

And while there was a lot of work, you were a lot better there than you were at your old job.

You would miss the nightly walks that you would have with Damian though, oddly enough.

But you didn't have to wait long before you saw him again.

This time though, he was knocking at your fire escape window a couple of hours after you got home.

Laughing slightly, you opened the window, “Guess you missed me, Dami,”

”You know what, I prefer Bats better.” He says, getting himself in.

”Too bad, this one has now stuck to you.” You joke.

Rolling his green eyes, you felt a sort of fondness from them.

”You look better by the way, less stressed,” He states plainly, sitting on your couch.

”Yeah, thanks for that by the way.” You say next to him, “You didn’t need to do that,”

”It’s safer for you.” He says plainly.

”Still, thank you, Damian.” You smile towards him, feeling at ease with him with you.

”It’s no problem, (Y/N).” When his eyes meet yours, you felt almost an electric charge by the way he was looking at you.

Then a question pops into your mind ”Oh by the way how did you-”

”That is for me to know and you to find out.”

Ugh, how you hate the whole mysterious and cryptic crap.

For the rest of the night, you guys talked, watched a movie and Damian even got to pet Ember for once.

But throughout the night he took glimpses of you, sometimes you’d catch him, but others you didn’t.

Oh if only you knew what was going on in his mind.

He left before dinner, said he had things to do before the night was done.

This was now the new tradition you guys had he’d come to your house and chill out, and then he’d leave before dinner.

Then came the day of the Wayne Gala that all the employees were invited to.

After your lunch break, you found a jewelry box on top of your desk.

Inside, you found a silver necklace with a silver chain and a pendant with a green stone in the center and surrounding it were clear crystals, making a circle around it.

Plus there was a matching pair of earrings.

And they looked like real diamonds and emeralds, but you were kind of too scared to think of them as real because who would give them to you????

Looking around there was no one else there as you were the first one there back from lunch, so you put it in your purse and got to work.

Anyway, the event was held every year at the Wayne manor, and you were nervous as you got ready for it.

Standing in front of your mirror, in a beautiful but simple black dress with the short sleeves hanging off your shoulders.

It was sexy but elegant, and something that you would typically not wear, but you were rocking it.

After putting on your makeup, you eye the jewelry box, debating on wearing them or not.

The next thing you knew, they were on you, and you were ready to go.

At the gala, you were talking to one of your coworkers, a Were who was a mother of two who took this opportunity to take a break from the kids when you felt an arm tap your shoulder.

Turning around, you see a man with bright blue eyes and a roguish smile, holding out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

Before you could answer a no, you felt a muscled arm wrap itself around your waist possessively.

”No Jason, she wouldn’t,” Damian said, pulling you closer.

To your surprise, the man smiled knowingly and with a joking undertone said, “Oh man, Dami, look at you growing up.”

With a growl Damian walks the two of you away, his hold never faltering.

Okay, you were in need of answers, and now.

He must see it in your face because he stops you guys in an empty part of the manor.

”Okay, Damian talk.”

And to your surprise he does.

Turns out Damian is only half fae, his father is pure mortal, while his mother is Illyrian.

He has a crap ton of siblings, all of then a different species.

But the thing that freaked you out the most didn’t even come out of his mouth but from two spying brother’s who knew what Damian was avoiding trying to tell you.

”You guys are mates!” You hear a male voice say, then a clear “OW” right afterward.

Both yours and Damian's eyes widen, and you can physically see Damian pale in horror, which was a first for everyone in that room.

He wanted to tell you, but he didn’t think you’d want to be with him, at least like that.

He felt something the night he rescued you.

He grew suspicious of it when he’d grow protective while walking down the street.

And for awhile he knew that the connection between the two of you was there when you told him your name.

But the burden was his to bare if you didn’t accept it.

He just wanted to you to be happy, and if wasn’t with him then he’d find a way to live with it.

You were shocked, you had heard about how some faes had a connection snapped with a female, how they’d form a mental bond if they both accept each other as theirs.

But it made sense to you, it just felt right.

Damian didn’t speak much after that; you saw evident anger in his eyes that wasn’t directed at you but towards the voice around the corner. (It was Jason with Dick by the way.)

The two of you didn’t stay long after that.

You were about to order an Uber before Damian just lifted you off and flew you off to your apartment.

This time you didn’t kick him.

Again it was just an unsettling quiet between the two of you.

It was off-putting.

Once he landed on the fire escape, he let you down, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze.

”Damian…” You say, not knowing where to start.

”Look, if you don’t want anything to do with me like that,” He lets out a shaky breath, “Then I’ll leave you be,”

”But Damian-”

”I just want you to be happy (Y/N), even if it’s not with me-” He was interrupted by your hand on his cheek, pulling his face to look at yours.

”Damian, I want to be with you,” You state, caressing his cheek. “Come inside, I haven’t eaten anything all night, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t either.”

”(Y/N), you know what that means, right?”

Yep, you did, it means that you’d except the bond.

”I wouldn’t be offering if I didn’t.” You say, a smile growing on your face.

He kisses you, pouring his soul into it, and that night you guys finally became one.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne headcanon #damian wayne imagines #damian wayne imagine #Damian Wayne #robin #robin x reader #robin imagine #robin imagines #robin headcanon #dc #DC comics #dc comics imagine #au

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escapingreality1992 · 5 years ago

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Secret Pen Pals Ch. 3

Steve’s POV

This current week, I ended up busier than I ever thought possible. More boring debriefings that ended up giving me more opportunities to doodle aimlessly a mission came up in the middle of the week, excitement swelling within me. As I battled with the team, one thought decided to pop in my head; Keira’s birthday is on Saturday. Not much of a thought but enough of one to distract me. I took a direct hit to my jaw, making me stumble back a few paces.

Get it together, Rogers, I thought as I shook my head, stars in my vision for a few moments. I managed to push the random thought to the back burner and got to work in order to defeat our enemies. Landing a few punches on the man – humanoid – in front of me to stun it. I delivered a final blow to completely incapacitate him; the team, which consisted of Nat, Tony, Bruce, Bucky and Wanda detained the otherworldly creatures that showed up a few days ago to take us out. We got the tip from Stephen Strange, who opted to sit this battle out, figuring we could handle it on our own without assistance from him

The Avengers, I mean when I say us. I noticed Natasha shoot me a worried look and she walked over to where I stood.

“What happened earlier? You don’t usually let the enemy get one on you. Is there something on your mind?” she greeted me.

“No. You know I can’t always counter-attack hits all the time. I guess he – it – saw an opening and took it,” I answered. It wasn’t a lie; sometimes we can’t avoid hits from enemies, but I still wished the thought didn’t appear during a time when I’m trying to thwart enemy attacks on the planet. The other thing is I still didn’t want anyone to know of the correspondence to Keira. Maybe it was a bit selfish, keeping her to myself, but I wasn’t certain if anything would transpire between us.

The relationship we shared was still new. There could be a possibility we could grow tires of each other and end communication all together. I feared it. My preferred choice would be to eventually meet and maybe develop our friendship into something further.

“Are you sure? You can talk to me, you know. Or Bucky. If it’s something serious we could help,” she commented.

“I appreciate it. It’s nothing. Really. Should I need your help, I’ll come running, I promise,” She nodded and the six of us returned to the jet and headed home.

Deciding to shower, I stripped out of my combat suit in the privacy of my room, starting up the shower in the bathroom; I chose not to wait for the water to warm up and quickly cleansed my body of all the sweat and dirt acquired during the short battle. This process took about 15 minutes; I stepped out, shutting off the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist. Striding into the bedroom, I made a plan to send out my next letter and the gift I bought for Keira’s birthday. First, I needed to see about getting the gift wrapped; I had bought her a gold bangle bracelet with a charm of a dog on it, a German Shepherd specifically.

I didn’t know if the breed was a favorite of her, but I thought it fitting for her. I sighed, laying it out in front of me while sitting at my desk and opened the smaller bag, which contained another charm; one custom made, tiny star shaped shield. I mentally debated about attaching it to the bracelet; Did I want to reveal my alter identity now? How would she take it? Does she already know? The final question lingered in my head, something I hadn’t thought about since the first letter. The second letter had only intensified the idea that she had no clue who I really am, but I still wondered if she was hiding that fact away from me.

Stop it. Trust your instincts. Keira doesn’t know you’re Captain America, I thought. Sliding the star shield back in the silk bag I kept it in, I placed it back in the secret box and closed the drawer. Opening another drawer on the left side of my desk, I pulled out a small roll of wrapping paper and the jewelry box I had purchased in the shop the same day I got my suit. I carefully wrapped the gift and set it aside to start penning my next letter to Keira.

My plans to drop off the letter and the gift were delayed by another meeting, which lasted around two hours, putting the time past when most post offices closed for the day. Not only that, but everyone wanted to go out for drinks and dinner and by the time we returned home, I had completely exhausted myself, going to bed once we returned from our outing.

Keira’s POV

My week started how it always began; with a client and dogs. Well, dog in this case. Instead of the usual week with two dogs, this time it happened to be one and only for three days, the remaining four, I’d spend alone, the excepting being my birthday on Saturday; or so I thought. The client this time – Clyde Andrews; the dog, a black lab named Landon. He arrived at 11 a.m. instead of the usual 10 a.m. and appeared to be in a hurry, dropping off Landon and shoving a check in my hand before turning on his heel towards the exit. The price for watching Landon – 2000 dollars. Not bad, though it was 500 more than my asking price.

“What shall we do today? Be couch potatoes? Go swimming? Sleep? Hmm…couch potatoes, you say? Sounds good to me,” I asked aloud, noting the excitement of Landon at the words ‘couch potatoes’. I closed the door to my apartment, unleashing him and we headed for the large couch in the living room. I queued up Netflix and most of the day was spent watching and re-watching romantic comedies; we ate lunch and dinner during breaks of taking Landon out and a random nap that took place around 3 p.m. Around midnight, we retired for the night, disappointment awaiting me tomorrow evening.

A cold nose nudged me around 8 a.m. followed by a whine alerting me to the presence of Landon. I rolled over to meet two dark brown eyes staring at me and a tongue, which Landon decided to lick me with.

“Ugh! Alright, I’m getting up. Then we will be going back to sleep when get back inside okay?” I stated, shifting out from under the warm sheets. Landon ran around in circles while I pulled on a thick sweatshirt and my tennis shoes over the fuzzy socks I wore to bed. At my door, I leashed him, and we walked out in the chilly air of New York. I walked him around for a few minutes, returning to the warmth of the apartment once he did his business. My request of going back to sleep was fulfilled when Landon hopped onto the bed, curling up near me when I slid under the covers.

I awoke a few hours later, lunchtime fast approaching; I made a sandwich, feeding Landon a cup of dog food while we watched a baking show on Netflix. Cleaning up, I decided to head to grocery store to pick up something to cook for dinner as well as a few other items for the next couple of days. As I unloaded the bags, my phone rang; the caller ID shown as my mom. I answered it, putting away cans of beans in the pantry for chili Friday night.

“Hey, Mom. Are you and Dad still planning on coming up Saturday?” I greeted her.

“That’s why I’m calling. Unfortunately, work has caught up to us and we no longer have enough time to see you,” she answered. My fingers paused on the next can of chili beans, my heart dropping to my stomach.

“Oh,” I managed, struggling to keep sadness out of my voice.

“We’re sorry. Maybe we can do something next weekend? Next Sunday perhaps?”

“No, I understand. Next Sunday is fine with me,”

“Okay. Love you honey,”

“Love you too, Mom,” I hung up and resumed putting way the rest of the groceries. So, my parents couldn’t make it. Well, at least I’d still have my friends. Right?

Steve’s POV Wednesday came around and I panicked some trying to get Keira’s package to her. Though I tried not showing it during the dull meeting that went on in the morning. Tried is the keyword here. I drummed my fingers on the table, my foot tapping continuously underneath as my patience weakened each minute passing by as Tony continued talking. Finally, after two hours of endless babble, Tony wrapped things up, ending my torment, my impatience.

Bolting from my seat, I headed out of the conference room and grabbed the package from my room and almost sprinted to the entrance.

“Steve? Everything okay?” Bruce asked as I passed him in the lounge.

“Yeah, fine. Excuse me,” I answered, leaving the compound and entering the garage to ride my motorcycle into town to drop off my gift to Keira.

At the post office, a line delayed me even more, going slower than I imagined and I prayed that I’d get the gift out in time for her birthday. Once it got to be my turn, I got everything set up and handed off both the letter and jewelry box to be placed in a medium box that would ship out today.

“It’ll get there Saturday afternoon. Is that alright?” the female clerk asked. Relief flooded through me as I nodded, paying and hoped Keira would like her birthday present.

Keira’s POV – Saturday

Landon left Thursday night, leaving me to busy myself with other tasks like paying bills and going for walks. It wasn’t like I got too busy, but the depression I felt with my parents not coming up started to grab at my thoughts, squeezing them relentlessly.

I hadn’t even bothered to go through the mail or write to Steve. Believe me, I wanted to write to him, but I didn’t want to burden him with more complaints. The only thing keeping me from curling up with blankets and breaking down was the thought my friends were still coming out with me tonight. At the moment, I let my emotions out in the form of cleaning around my apartment. Imagine my excitement at the sound of a ping coming my phone; The message was from Charlotte.

‘Can’t come out tonight. Tasked with closing,’ My excitement deflated like a balloon, but I still had hope. It quickly disappeared when the next two messages from Lena and Jana followed, which both read ‘Can’t come out,’ Jana, being a nurse, got called in for a shift at the hospital. Lena, however, decided to go out on a date with a guy she met at work. The balloon of hope popped with a loud bang, leaving a huge mess in its wake. I shut off the vacuum and packed it up in the closet, coming to a final decision about plans for the night.

One thing I hate is when people cancel plans at the last minute, but this moment hit me hard, emotions running around in my head like a chicken with its head cut off. The disappointment surged through my veins, tears threatening to pour of my eye sockets like waterfalls. Pull it together. Don’t let it affect you, I thought to myself, sniffing up the snot wanting to drip out of my nose.

Changing into clothes I deemed appropriate for the store, I went out and picked up a bottle of red wine, a large cake, and ingredients for spaghetti, returning home to spend my birthday alone. While feasting, I allowed my emotions to stew, building them up more as I stored leftovers in the fridge and cleaned up. Somehow, I ended up standing in my living room staring at the cake on the coffee table. Releasing a deep sigh, I ventured to my room to grab my portable Bluetooth speaker, turning it on and placing it next to the cake.

I found a song – fast-paced, something I could dance to – and expelled everything I felt; anger, sadness, loneliness and poured another glass of wine. Someone, meaning me, was getting drunk tonight. I planned on having my cake as well.

Sunday Morning

An alarm I forgot I set woke me; the blaring sound did nothing for the terrible headache I had.

“Oh, damn,” I grumbled, images of what happened last night returning to mind. Hangovers never looked good on me. Groaning, I shut off the alarm and got out of bed. Bed. When did I get in the bed? Oh great, it was one of those black-out drunk nights, I thought. Stumbled is more like what I did, and I clung to the nightstand, regaining my balance and attempted to head to the bathroom. My feet collided with a box sitting nearby and I nearly fell but managed to right myself.

Thankfully, I made it there before I heaved up chunks of cake, last night’s wine and the meal I ate before losing control. Nausea passed and I sat on the cold tile floor for a few minutes, not moving until certain round two wouldn’t rear its head. Standing up, I filled up a small paper cup of water and took two Advil from the container I kept in my medicine cabinet in the bathroom. Making my way back into the bedroom, I leaned down to see what I kicked, discovering the package I overlooked when checking the mail Saturday afternoon. I gasped when I noticed the name on the shipping label. Opening the box with scissors found on my nightstand from a knitting project a few nights ago, I emptied the contents onto my lap.

The letter I expected, the small box I had not, so I unsealed the envelope first, excited to read Steve’s words.

Keira,

Happy birthday! I’m technically writing this a few days before the actual day, but I hope you’re not reading it on the very day. Your last letter warmed my heart and I love the Polaroids you sent.

They immediately brought a smile to my lips. The blankets are gorgeous and appeared to give me a sense of coziness without even being there. All I wanted to do was to bury myself underneath them and read a book. The bookshelves are impressive with the amount you’ve managed to fill them with. They gave me a thrill finding out you’re a book lover as well.

Anyway, back to your birthday and the gift I’ve sent along with this letter. I hope you’re having a good one, celebrating with your friends and family. Maybe you’re down in North Carolina with them or perhaps they came to New York.

“They left me alone, actually,” I mumbled, stretching out on my stomach, my feet hanging in the air. I palmed the wrapped box, sliding a digit under the paper and tape, removing the paper entirely. I uncapped the box, tears brimming in my eyes at the item inside, continuing reading the letter.

In the box you will find a golden bracelet with a German Shepherd charm (it was the only one the jewelry shop had) on it. It’s nothing much, but it made me think of you. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to wear it of course.

As to the other matter, please don’t be afraid to write about anything to me. I don’t mind. Complain to me. Rant to me. Release anything that’s on your mind. This isn’t silly, it’s romantic, even fun. I happen to think it could bring two strangers together in a way no one could ever begin to understand.

Forgive me. I’m also a romantic at heart and if this pen pal event brings love to two people, it would give me absolute joy. It may not be us but at least I’ve got this new friendship with you. I hope I’m not out of line when I tell you your friends seem jealous. Of you, of this. There’s a possibility they’re missing out on something great, something exciting, something…new. They also might even seek out fault in others to feel better about their own selves.

I’d like to suggest a book recommendation. You can choose to read it or not. You may like it depending on if you love horror novels or Halloween. The Haunting of Hill House. I don’t want to give you the synopsis, afraid I’ll give away too much. I’m hoping the name alone will make you curious.

I’m glad I can bring you comfort and a sense of calm. I have to admit I’m always expecting another letter from you. I keep checking the mailbox for your words, to hear more about you and your life. I feel a need to read your words, to see your exquisite mind on paper. You bring me a sense of comfort I’ve not experienced in a while. I find I’m able to relax more when reading your letters.

Happy birthday once more.

Patiently waiting for you,

Steve

Tears of joy poured from eyes as I finished reading the letter, my fingers toying with the bracelet. I folded up the sheets of paper, sticking them carefully back in the envelope. Picking up the bangle, I adjusted it for my wrist, the cool metal resting on the inside of it. He remembered my birthday, I thought. I knew I had told him in the last letter about it, but I didn’t tell him the date. Perhaps he had figured the date out given the timing of it being sent out. I didn’t expect Steve to send me anything for it though.

Smiling, I got up and decided to grab a burger to help cure this hangover; leftovers be damned, greasy food is the way to go. I had also made the decision to bring along the notebook I’d been using to write to Steve and began constructing a ‘thank you’ for the gift along with some other things that were on my mind.

After lunch and finishing up my own letter, I made a stop at a blue postal box since I knew the post offices weren’t open on Sundays. Returning to the apartment, I pulled out the cake I somehow managed to put in the fridge despite having a “fun” night. I cut a slice of it and put it on a paper plate, sitting down to watch TV as I ate. While eating, my thoughts drifted to Steve and I began to think I was starting to crush on the man behind the words.

Three Days Later

Steve’s POV “Steve! You’ve got a letter! Steve! Where are you?” Natasha called out. Currently, I was in the training room building up strength and releasing some pent-up energy; boxing with the punching bag helped clear up thoughts when I felt I couldn’t talk to anyone. I chose not to send Keira another letter, though I wanted to; I patiently waited for her new one, which might have been in Natasha’s hands at this very moment.

Natasha. Oh no, I thought, half running, half walking out to the lounge to get the letter. Please, don’t open it, I pleaded silently, rounding the corner where I met the red head standing by the couches.

“Oh, there you are. Here’s your letter. I thought it might be important,” she greeted me, handing the unsealed letter to me.

“Thank you. I’ll be in my room is you need me,” I told her, clutching the letter in my hands. I turned, expecting no response from Nat…until she spoke, shattering hope of no comments about it.

“Who’s Keira, Steve?” I froze, realizing I needed to give an answer.

“No one. A new acquaintance, maybe,” I stated, trying not to wince at the words that escaped my mouth. Keira meant more to me than I thought; I didn’t really want my friends to find out about her yet. I needed more time to write to her and eventually meet her to decide if and when I’d like her to meet them all. No need to give any more information than what I’ve already provided. I refused to meet Nat’s gaze, knowing she’d have an eyebrow raised, questionable doubt at the answer.

If I met her gaze, I’d spill everything, and I wanted this relationship to be a secret for now; until I felt ready to tell them.

“If you say so,” she responded, letting the subject go without pressing me further. I released a sigh and ventured to the seclusion of my chambers, locking the door restricting any others to barge in if they needed something. They would have to knock to get my attention. I unsealed the envelope, sitting on my bed and started reading.

Steve,

Thank you for the gift. It’s lovely and it’ll now become something I’ll be wearing all of the time. I can’t believe you remembered my birthday but I’m glad you did. It brought me joy and tears. Don’t be worried. They were tears of joy. As to how I spent it. Well, I spent it alone.

It wasn’t too bad though. My friends forgot about it, going out or working additional shifts instead. My parents got caught up in work and couldn’t come up. I understood, of course, but it didn’t make me feel any happier. I let my emotions build up and then proceeded to get drunk and dance around the apartment. That’s what happens when you get a bottle of wine and cake. It’s didn’t really help matters because now I’m suffering from a hangover.

I resolved it by going out for a burger with French fries and a fried egg squeezed in the bun. Not the fries, just the egg. The fries were on the side. I’m thinking about returning home to have cake and veg out on the couch watching movies. At lease my parents planned to visit next Sunday, but I haven’t gotten words from my friends. It’s fine, nothing to really worry or stress out about. I didn’t know what to expect from my outburst at the luncheon with them the other day.

She spent her birthday alone. I wish I could’ve been there to celebrate with her, I thought, a twinge of sadness hitting me as I read those words. My friends managed to remember my birthday and there was always a party thrown by Tony or sometimes a quiet dinner arranged with our small group.

The only thing is I wished we had already met. Maybe we could have done something between the two of us. Thank you for allowing me to tell you anything I want. It’s been a long time since I felt I could be myself. Most times I mask my true self from others afraid of what they’d think of me. Writing to you frees me from the cage I’m trapped in. It allows me to express myself in ways I never thought possible.

I’ll have to check out that book recommendation. You’re right, the name alone sounds intriguing enough for me to pick up and read. Fall is the perfect time to delve into something creepy. Per your request for a creation of mine, I don’t mind making one for you. I make ones for strangers sometimes. Of course, I don’t think ‘strangers’ applies to us anymore. I think we’re beginning to become friends. In your next letter send me your favorite colors and I’ll get to working on it then.

Here’s a list of favorites since you kindly asked:

Movie – The Longest Ride, but I also love Hereditary, which is horror movie (my favorite genre)

Season – Fall because sweater weather, boot season. More importantly, the beautiful scenery as the leaves change colors.

Color – Green, especially dark green. It looks really pretty on me.

Musical – RENT. The music, the story, everything. Highly recommend if you haven’t seen it.

Ideal date? A dinner and a movie maybe, however, I’m also the type that would enjoy a day trip to the beach and spend time in the sun.

Ideal day? Coffee, tea, hot chocolate. Bundled up with a book. Rainy day. Some furry companions to keep me company or someone to cuddle with. Maybe you – sorry. You’ve been on my mind today. We still don’t know too much about each other and haven’t met. Silly me.

My breath hitched at the comment about me. No, no. She’s right. You hardly know each other. Be happy with the friendship, I thought. It didn’t stop me from wondering what it’d be like to…

Memory? A beach trip where my parents and I did nothing for a week except swim and read. Relaxing for a while. We took the dog (I used to live with them and technically had a pet German Shepherd. I don’t have a pet of my own here) and he swam in the pool, enjoying life. Newt is his name. He’s 7 now. That’s the first. The second is…receiving your first letter.

Music – Country, Pop. I’m not too picky. I’m not a fan of rap.

This is all I can think of at the moment. I might slip in some more in the next letters or so. We’ll see. In need of a hug still. Provide me comfort instead?

Keira

A wide, goofy grin spread across my lips. I found out more about her and the longing flared up, hot in my chest. I tried to smother it, not wanting to fall for her this fast. The problem is once she awakened it with her words, there was no way to stop its burning. I folded up the paper and stored it away from prying eyes, unlocking my door. I exited my room to join my friends for lunch. How could it be possible for me to feel this way in a short amount of time? The other question lingering in my thoughts had me pondering if I should let these feelings consume me entirely.

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smoothexpression · 6 years ago

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@ciaraskellington replied to your post “@reginaldspektor replied to your post “i’m feeling pretty exhausted...”

Could you maybe try to teach the kid how to train the dog a little? Just like simple tricks to try and get him to see the dog as a dog?

the boy is very smart, but he’s a know it all. he thinks everything he’s doing is correct, won’t listen to any advice on how to interact his dog. he manhandles the dog how he pleases, and doesn’t want to learn about training. he needs his parents to intervene there’s nothing i can do.

@abeagleandashepherd replied to your post “@reginaldspektor replied to your post “i’m feeling pretty exhausted...”

I don’t like German Shepherd people either :/ sooo many dogs have amazing potential and get completely and utterly wasted by their owners. If the dogs don’t give up and become overweight couch potatoes, they go stir crazy and have behavior problems. Worst part is when the owners don’t acknowledge any issues with either situation. Stay strong!!

i think this dog will end up being stir crazy and over weight given that he’s working line AND they free feed him XP. i’ve always been able to brush gsd people off because i meet them at parks and stuff where i’ve got fox with me, and fox’s behavior shuts up any braggarts with delusions of grandeur real quick. but this is a job where i have to keep my mouth shut and not say anything out of turn, and fox isn’t there to lend credibility to my advice. it’s frustrating. i’ll try to stay strong tho!! i miss you guys :’(

@fallenangelsbecomedevils replied to your post “@reginaldspektor replied to your post “i’m feeling pretty exhausted...”

Please don't take this down, this was so perfect. And I don't like most people that gravitate to GSDs either, it is frustrating to watch people want a smart, tough, and beautiful dog that they let waste away into it's own head until it goes insane.

i’ll leave it up for now, but if i think my employers are going to find my blog i’ll delete it. i really do like working for them, and i don’t want to loose this job

@reginaldspektor replied to your post “@reginaldspektor replied to your post “i’m feeling pretty exhausted...”

Oh I understand that feeling completely. Was turoring at a house with a Yorkie that they kept in one of those four foot wide pens 24/7 and wanted me to "train" it for one hour every week, thinking that would magically fix everything. Same with the kid, one hour of tutoring each week to help combat how utterly behind he was in language acquisition, because they would never talk and interact with him.

god that sounds like a miserable situation. i really don’t like 90% of parents (yes including my own). its a great misconception among dog owners that it’s the /dog/ that needs to be trained, when in reality it’s the owners who need to be taught how to handle their dogs.

#ciaraskellington #abeagleandashepherd #fallenangelsbecomedevils #reginaldspektor #replies

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hamagurichroma · 6 years ago

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This is a screen shot, since I don’t want to support this shitty ad by sharing it.

I HATE THIS SO MUCH!

First off, the dog pictured isn’t an actual breed of dog. It’s a pitty that’s been painted to look like a tiger. Nothing inherently wrong with that, I’m sure pet safe paint was used, and more and more groomers are doing it. It’s fun, and cute, and relatively harmless for the animal involved (depending on how much they stress out being on the grooming table). But the ad misleads people into believing this is an actual dog breed (People are dumb sometimes, lets be real.)

But the WORST part, the ABSOLUTELY WORST PART OF THIS WHOLE AD is that opening sentence: “Rare Dog Breeds That Will Stand Out At The Dog Park” As someone who works in animal care/rescue my first thought is FUCK. YOU.

Because no one should ever pick a dog based on looks alone. Never pick a dog based on what kind of status it will give you with other humans. That is a living, breathing, feeling creature, not your attention seeking fashion accessory. The number of pure bred huskies, German shepherds, Aussie shepherds, pit bulls, and countless other striking breeds that end up in shelters every year because the people that buy them aren’t prepared for their training and care, is just APPALLING. This has got to stop, people!

We should be encouraging people to find dogs that match their personality and life style. If you’re looking for a dog, you have to be honest with yourself about the life the two of you will lead together. Don’t get a high energy breed like a husky if you’re a bit of a couch potato, get a French bulldog or a greyhound instead, they love to laze around! Never had a dog before? Maybe rethink your dream of having a German Shepherd or pitty that need lots of firm structure if they aren’t going to grow up to be a nightmare dog.

#dogs #animal rescue #dogdaycarelife #happy dog

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kootenaygoon · 6 years ago

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So,

It’s easier to trust someone when they’re naked.

I’ve been a nudist since I was a small child, and I never feel more comfortable than when I’m fully immersed in water, like a hippo, wearing nothing but sunglasses. When I heard that Nelson had a clothing optional beach called Red Sands, I packed up Paisley and the dogs and set out for an expedition. It was easier to find than I anticipated, and we bumbled upon it while trying to make sense of the Google directions. She scrolled through the old Star stories about the various city council hearings that had been held about Red Sands, and read to me out loud about how the community had opposed a condo project to maintain the integrity and privacy of the beach. (“They love to protest about everything here, eh?”) After parking just outside city limits we hiked down the train tracks through the forest, Muppet and Buster straining excitedly at the leashes, and then down a slope to a small crescent of sand with a vaguely pink hue.

There were only a few other people there, mostly older men, so we made a bit of a spectacle as we tried to wrangle our dogs and settle down for a picnic. Paisley took off her top for a bit, but eventually put it back on because she felt self-conscious. Then there was me, blissfully nude. I carried the dogs out to the edge of the water and threw them in, encouraging them to frantically doggy-paddle back. We quickly abandoned this game when it became apparent that Buster was alarmingly cold, shivering feverishly. Paisley cuddled him in her lap, chastising me for being too rough with them.

“Look how small he is,” she said. “He’s like a little potato.”

For a while it was quiet, and we enjoyed the tranquil scenery while Muppet dug her snout playfully into the sand. A little while later Scarlet Mary Rose, the burlesque performer I’d been bugging Paisley about, came out of the woods with a basket on her arm. She danced over to give me a hug, then excitedly introduced herself.

“I was actually telling Paisley about Boob camp,” I said. “I thought it would be a cool idea for her to join.”

“Oh, you should!”

“I don’t really have any dance experience,” Paisley said, shyly. “I’m not sure it’s my thing.”

“You know what? Why don’t you come to the first couple of classes for free, just try it,” Scarlet said. “If we haven’t hooked you by the third class, then you’re free to go. What do you think? You in?”

Paisley giggled nervously. “Okay.”

“Oh girl, you have no idea the adventure we’ve got in store for you.”

Eventually Scarlet found a spot across the beach. We worked our way through a six-pack of ciders, taking turns dunking in the lake as more and more people spilled on to the beach from the trees. Some were just hikers who would sit in their shorts for a few minutes, panting, then continue on their way. Others were clearly there to party, and sometimes came packing little stereos or their own bongo drums. Two dudes instantly stood out, Dru and Cy, and as we lay there on the beach I invented backstories about them for Paisley, whispering them as she giggled.

They looked like one of those off-kilter movie pairs, like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny Devito, or Jay and Silent Bob. Dru was a scrawny, bespectacled vagrant known to loudly perform 90s ballads and Cy was a nearly silent giant of a dude, well over six feet tall, with a long dreaded troll beard. They were the sort of characters who would seem over the top in fiction, but here they were right in front of us. Real people.

“Bro, thank you so much for doing this. It’s like a big help, man,” Dru said, as we drove him back into town with Cy at the end of the day. “I mean it’s kind of a long walk at night, you know? It gets a little sketchy sometimes.”

“What’re you guys getting up to tonight?”

“Oh, we’re on a kind of a limited budget, you know? But we’ll get some more beers, get up to our regular shenanigans.”

“So how long have you been a musician?”

He turned in his seat, delighted by my interest. “I’d say I’ve been taking it pretty seriously for seven or eight years now. And I have material for at least, like, three albums. Maybe more.”

Cy grunted, nodded knowingly at me in the rearview.

“Well I’m the reporter at the newspaper,” I told him. “And I’m the arts guy, so you should totally let me know if you’re ever doing a show or anything like that.”

“Oh dude, really? Oh, dude, that would be so amazing.”

“I’m always looking for new stories.”

Besides Dru and Cy, the most important person on the beach was the King of Red Sands. He was of indeterminate age, though I put him somewhere around 50. He wore nothing but large wrap-around sunglasses and a black baseball cap, its brim shading his clean-shaven face from view. He had clearly been a thin man at some point, but was now rocking a pregnant-looking paunch. That afternoon he clambered off his speedboat, which he had parked onshore, and shouted commands at his passengers as they tried to off-load the booze coolers and camping chairs. He gesticulated with a beer can clutched in his fist. I would later learn that various features of the beach — like a sculpted rock seat and a tiled art-piece — were thanks to him, and that he’d also completed some controversial and perhaps illegal clearing of small trees to make for better sunbathing spots. Though people called him the King of Red Sands, I don’t think he considered himself royalty. He just loved his surroundings fiercely, and over the decades had developed a sense of ownership over that little inlet that was deep-rooted in him. He would eventually tell me that he planned to be cremated, then he wanted his ashes spread at Red Sands. I told him that seemed like a pretty legit plan to me.

“What about you?” he asked. “You think you’ll stick around the Koots?”

Standing naked with him, shin-deep in the lake, there wasn’t any reason to pretend to be anyone other than myself. “I really struggle with feeling like I belong anywhere. I want to stick around long enough that I feel like this, here, is my home. I haven’t had that for a long time.”

He smiled, swigged his beer. “You’ve got a nice little family there.”

“Yeah, that’s my main thing. Making that work.”

“Don’t take that shit for granted.”

“Believe me, I don’t. Every day I remind myself how lucky I am.”

He sneered. “No, that’s too far. It’s not about luck. It’s about putting in the work, it’s about really letting yourself trust someone else, it’s about commitment. I’ve been married for 30 years now and I work at it, all the time.”

“Thirty years. Wow.”

“Best decision I ever made was shacking up with her. Amazing what a good woman can do for your mental health.”

I looked back at Paisley on our blanket, against a backdrop of trees. We’d been together for three years, but it still seemed hard to believe she was mine. Beside her I felt like a brute. She was highly sensitive, with quick access to a wellspring of deeply felt emotions, and could be moved to tears by a sad meme on Facebook. I called her my duck. She knew I loved her, loved her with the desperate conviction of someone convinced they’ve found their lifelong soul mate, but it was the rest of being in a relationship that just didn’t seem to be in my skill set. I was constantly saying the wrong thing, hurting her feelings or trampling her conversationally. We’d nearly broken up in Halifax then we’d nearly broken up in Victoria, now this felt like our last chance. If we couldn’t make it work here, we wouldn’t be able to make it anywhere. I waved at her, and she gestured that she was ready to go.

“Hey man,” the King of Red Sands said, “You want a beer?”

***

Thursday afternoon was the end of my week, and by August I’d established a pretty reliable routine of heading straight to Red Sands with the dogs the moment we put the paper to bed. Paisley usually declined to join, busy with her desserts or just couch-locked watching Workaholics. I didn’t have much of a social life, and didn’t feel like I needed one, but it was there I found myself routinely chatting with strangers and making new friends. Most of the time I kept Muppet and Buster leashed, walking them back and forth along the shore, but when there weren’t any other dogs around I would let them chase each other in circles and explore among the rocks. One evening we stayed until the sun began to set, huddled together on a towel. I was reading The Ever After of Aswhin Rao and drinking my last cider when a small posse of party kids came screaming down through the trees. Dru and Cy were in tow.

One pony-tailed dude with vivid black tattoos on his bare torso made a noisy spectacle of jumping out of his saggy jeans and running into the water, throwing himself down like a cresting whale. His friends kept yelling “Snapper! Snapper!” The rest of them began making camp at the opposite end of the beach. One of the women was in a uniform, like she’d just gotten off work, but the rest looked like jobless skids. Buster was unconscious against my thigh, but Muppet was curious about these newcomers and decided to amble in their direction. I watched, concerned, because Muppet routinely ended up in situations she couldn’t handle. She wasn’t good with other dogs, and half the time she wasn’t good with people either. I loved her desperately, but had no illusions about the fact that she was a needy, neurotic mess. As the kids started to welcome her, smiling, I looked back down at my book.

“No, Brutus, no!”

I looked up, and saw Brutus before Muppet did. A healthy-looking German Shepherd with no shortage of energy, he’d been bounding through the forest exploring while his owners marched ahead, but upon spotting Muppet’s tiny white figure through the trees he came sprinting down the beach with kamikaze abandon. Shit. Muppet tensed, spotting the danger, then came yipping in my direction with great haste as I struggled to my feet. Some of the kids were jumping up now, yelling at Brutus, as he cut off Muppet’s path diagonally and sent her tumbling. He continued past her then turned, ready for another go. Before that could happen I had Muppet up in my arms, tight to my chest, with Buster tucked beside her like a football. Somewhere behind me I’d dropped my cider, and now I looked ridiculous, naked and flustered with my trembling canine progeny scratching at my bare flesh.

“Dude, that’s my bad,” the pony-tailed guy said, dripping and clutching a leash. “Bad boy, you come here. Fucking come here.”

“It’s all good,” I said. “It happens.”

“Real killers you’ve got there.”

“That’s the joke people make, pretty much every day.”

“Fuck, and here I thought I was being original. Hey, you’re the reporter, right? You work for the newspaper?”

“Will Johnson,” I said.

“Snapper.”

“You’re one of those guys who just has the one name, like Madonna?”

“I’ve got other names but Snapper’s the only one that matters.”

By this point Dru had pulled out a guitar, and was screaming his way through a Nirvana song. Cy was taking a pull from a freshly cracked beer, and the two women were now disrobed and venturing into the shallows holding hands. Snapper promised to keep Brutus leashed, apologized again, then headed back to his spot while I did the same. Muppet was whining and upset, so I knew I had to get out of there soon. I started throwing things into my bag while keeping the dogs leashed to my ankle, and decided to smoke one last joint before heading back down the train tracks. The sky was orange now, and dark shadows were forming. Paisley was probably starting to wonder where I was. A few puffs in, one of the women with Snapper stood up and walked over. Maybe 25, with messily half-dreaded brown hair and matching nipple barbells, she was tattooed, brazenly nude and completely unashamed. She introduced herself as Blayne, and asked if Muppet was okay.

“Oh, I think she’s calmed down now. She’s got her Dad.”

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she said. “I can tell.”

I gaped for a moment. “I’m sorry…”

“In Fairview, like two months ago. You took a picture of me walking my dog.”

“In Fairview?”

“Yeah, it was in the paper. I was walking like this, kind of over by Selkirk College?” She struck a pose, mid-stride, with jazz hands. It made for an epic silhouette, and I shifted Muppet closer to my lap just in case my body betrayed me.

“Oh, shit, yeah. I remember that. Right,” I said. “Hi.”

“You told me you just moved here.”

“Yeah, with my partner Paisley,” I said, mentally congratulating myself for mentioning her. “We were in Victoria before this.”

“Oh, I love the island.”

“Yeah, the only thing about the Kootenays is I find it hard being away from the ocean, you know? But I really like the culture. I’m starting to meet people. It’s amazing how many artists and musicians are kicking around.”

“I was born n’ raised here, so I’m a little over it. You’ll get to know all the locals pretty quick and then things get old fast. Everybody knows everybody, everybody fights everybody, everybody fucks everybody. That’s Nelson,” she said. “Maybe it will be different for you guys, though.”

“Why do they call him Snapper?” I asked, looking over to where he was patting Brutus on the sand. The dude looked the part of a small-town drug dealer, like a real criminal, but I didn’t want to be a dick about it. He was scrawny, feral-looking.

“Oh, in high school he snapped some dude’s arm for kissing a girl he liked,” she said. “Or at least that’s the story.”

“Is it true?”

“How true is any story?”

The Kootenay Goon

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mygermanshepherd · 8 years ago

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Are german shepherds typically ok at home alone or do they need a friend for when youre at work? And is it true they need a "job" to be happy? I guess I'm asking how self sufficient GSDs are, because I would only want to get one if I can make them happy. I'd like a dog that is content lounging some days and getting out exercising other days, not too much of either.

German shepherds should be fine at home while you’re at work, provided they get adequate exercise and mental stimulation. They are a working breed so they do much better having a “job” and in general exercise and mental stimulation every day. Adding another dog usually means you end up with two dogs to exercise; they don’t just tire each other out all day. If they are stuck inside for days and don’t get exercise they tend to get destructive and bad behaviours start. The only time Kilo was destructive as a one year old was when he didn’t have enough exercise and chewed a vacuum head haha. But generally unless you have maybe an older shepherd they aren’t couch potatoes but they should have an off switch at home. (Not saying all older shepherds are couch potatoes of course)

You could look into adopting an older gsd from a rescue or shelter. That why if they have been properly assessed you can find a gsd with the energy level to suit your lifestyle. Kilo is 7 now and although he still does need proper exercise and whatnot, he isn’t as high energy as he was at 1-2 years old. There’s such a variety with shepherds, some require a lot more exercise. I have had several at the kennel at work; one of them was almost neurotic and didn’t know how to settle down, but another was almost the opposite.

Also just to add, if you like labs, the showline labs seem super chill. My boss breeds them and hers are so easy going and content with lounging around but also up for long hikes as well.

Anyway hope this helps!

#anon #ask

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kathydsalters31 · 4 years ago

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Best Dogs for Running

This post on the best dogs for running is based on my opinions. If “your” breed is not mentioned, just add it in the comments!

This post is meant to be fun, and any breed can make a great running buddy or a terrible running buddy.

Breed is one factor. Each dog, regardless of breed or breed mix, is an individual.

And mutts often make the best running buddies of all!

I chose these best dog breeds for running based on:

Here’s what’s covered in this post:

Best dog breeds for distance runners

Best dogs for medium and shorter distances

The best small dogs for running

Worst 5 dog breeds for running

10 Best dogs for running long distance

Best dog breeds for ultrarunners, marathoners and half-marathoners

1. Best dogs for running – the Border collie

The one dog we know who has double the energy of our weimaraner is our family’s border collie, Rusty. This breed is light on its feet, medium sized and can go, go, go all day long!

Border collie

The border collie might be the absolute best running breed there is for any distance but especially the longer distances. The border collie’s coat also helps protect it from the cold and heat. They’re a working breed able to handle the elements and keep going all day long.

2. Belgian malinois

The malinois is known for its intensity, with energy that often exceeds the border collie, believe it or not.

Belgian malinois

The malinois breed is often used for protection, police work, military work, search and rescue and other jobs. They definitely need work to do and an owner willing to put in the time for training and serious exercise. Running alone is not enough of a “job” for a malinois.

This breed also has a coat that helps protect them from the heat and cold better than the shorter-coated breeds like weimaraners and vizslas.

3. Pudel pointer

I never see this breed mentioned on running lists and it should be at the top! It’s just not a well-known breed in the United States.

I wanted to list the pudel pointer because it’s a less common pointing breed that most people don’t know about. It is not a breed recognized by the AKC. It is recognized by the North American Versatile Hunting Dog Association.

Pudel pointers have a wiry coat and are often mistaken for a labradoodle or a German wirehaired pointer.

Annie the pudel pointer

The most fit dog running client I had when I used to run with dogs full time as my job was Annie the pudel pointer.

Annie and I ran 1,000 miles together over a few years and at that point I stopped keeping track. She was a trained hunting dog and could run forever. Truly impressive.

4. All other pointers

German wirehaired pointer, German shorthaired pointer, English pointer

Pointers are bred to be out in the field hunting all day so they have the energy and speed for long distance running. They’re also happy to crash with you on the couch afterwards.

German shorthaired pointer

Sometimes pointers might need to wear a coat in the winter if you live in a cold climate. You may want to consider a wirehaired pointer if you run in the cold since their coats are longer.

5. Weimaraner

Weimaraners are awesome long distance running buddies, and this is the type of dog I have (Remy!). They have serious endurance, speed and drive. Like the other breeds on this list, they are great for long distance because 3 or 4 miles simply will not tire them out!

Remy the weimaraner

Weimaraners are a generally healthy breed and decent off leash other than their strong drive to search for birds!

Because of their short hair, this breed can’t handle extreme cold for very long. My Weim Remy did go on one 18-miler last winter when it was around 12 to 15 degrees F with his neoprene vest on. If it’s much colder than that, he only goes out for short runs.

Also, the weimaraner’s short, light-colored fur doesn’t protect them from the sun as well as other breeds.

6. Vizsla

So similar to the Weimaraner but a bit smaller and with a reddish coat.

vizsla

Like weims, vizslas also need some protection in the winter. It’s also nice that they’re usually a bit smaller than weimaraners and German shorthairs, so they might be easier to handle (or not!).

7. Husky

The longer the better for these guys. See our post on training for the Iditarod!

Husky

Most huskies will not appreciate running in warmer weather, although I saw a TON of huskies at the dog beach when we lived in San Diego.

Of course, huskies love to pull, and they’re bred for it! That can be a good thing if you want to do canicross or skijoring. These are sports where the dog runs out ahead pulling you in a harness with the other end of the leash around your waist as you run, bike or ski.

8. Australian shepherd

Australian shepherds are extremely smart, easy to train and very loyal.

Ruby the Australian shepherd

This breed is very popular right now, as well as the “American shepherd” which is really a mini Australian shepherd. They make GREAT long distance running buddies! They also tend to do really well in agility!

9. Brittany spaniel

These dogs are meant to run all day long in the field and their speed, energy and endurance is impressive in a smaller package. They generally weigh only about 35 pounds so they are a great option if you’re looking for a medium sized running buddy.

Brittany spaniel

Of course, they are bird dogs with a strong prey drive. They will need ongoing off-leash training to learn to stick closer to you.

10. Jack Russell terrier

The Jack Russell terrier is my absolute number one choice for a small breed running buddy. These guys can handle rough and tough terrain.

Jack Russell terrier

They can handle long distances and speed and the wirehaired Jack Russells can handle some cold weather. (There is a smooth coat variety of this breed and a wirehaired variety.)

One potential drawback is that Jack Russells are known as one of the most difficult breeds to train (whether it’s true or not they have a bad rap, haha!) They love to chase prey and have an independent streak, so some may be challenging for off-leash running.

Other breeds among the best dogs for running long distance:

Since I can’t include them all on my list, here are some other great candidates for distance running:

Malamute, Australian cattle dog (blue heeler), Doberman, foxhound, fox terrier, coonhound (and many other hound breeds too), English springer spaniel, all setter breeds, all of the pointing and flushing breeds, duck tolling retriever, standard poodle, Ibizan hound, some field bred Labradors (hopefully our future pup!) and many, many mixed breeds!

Let me know in the comments what other breeds should be on the list for distance running. If we get enough “votes” I’ll edit my list.

Now, onto …

Best dogs for running and jogging medium distances

Best dogs for those training for 5Ks, 10Ks and maybe even some half-marathons

Literally any breed or mixed breed can be a great running partner in the 2- to 5-mile range. It’s more about the individual dog than the breed, but here are some of my favorites:

1. Best dogs for running medium distances – the Doberman

Their long legs and high energy make them a great choice! Some Dobermans may even make great longer distance running partners.

Doberman

My second-fittest dog running client was a Doberman named Bentley. The only dog who had more endurance than him was Annie the pudel pointer.

2. Rhodesian Ridgeback

Some ridgebacks will also make great distance runners. They were originally bred for hunting big game animals in South Africa so they definitely have some endurance as well!

Rhodesian ridgeback

This breed is on the larger size of around 85 pounds for the average male.

3. English springer spaniel

Another breed that can also handle some longer distances!

I put them here on our medium distance category because to me their energy is not quite as intense as a border collie or a pointer in my opinion. But they are still high energy and make awesome running partners.

Sophie the English springer spaniel

My parents have a 14-year-old springer named Sophie, and she and I went running many times together in her younger years. She still goes for walks at age 14! Read more about springer spaniels here.

4. Standard poodles and all other poodles

Don’t let their looks fool you. Poodles of all sizes are very fit, high-energy dogs!

Standard poodle

They were originally bred for hunting ducks and many poodles love to retrieve! Read about miniature poodles below.

5. German shepherd

Obviously German shepherds are bred for some serious endurance as they are often used in police work, search and rescue and other important jobs.

German shepherd

Some German shepherds can also make great distance runners but I feel they are better for “medium” distances. Read my interview with a German shepherd owner who does nosework with her dog.

6. Dalmatian

Dalmatians are great athletes as they were originally bred as “coach dogs” to protect the horses.

Dalmatian

The only drawback is they might get sunburned easier than some other breeds due to their thinner, light-colored coats. They’ll also need some protection from the cold.

7. Labrador retriever

I’m generalizing again, but I recommend you go with a field bred Lab as they are generally athletic than “show” labs. Regardless, Labs vary in energy. Some make great runners and others … not so much. We’re getting a field bred Lab next year and I plan to run with this future dog!

Labrador

I’ve seen many couch-potato labs and I’ve seen labs that could easily compete with my Weimaraner. So, do your research and find the right Lab for your running style.

8. Golden retriever

Goldens also vary so much in their size, energy and personality. Some are very “big boned” and heavy while others are very fit and lean.

Brittni, my old golden retriever (RIP)

Again, I’d recommend a “field bred” golden if you are looking into doing some serious running. My family has had goldens for most of my life and made great running partners up to the 6-mile+ range. Read about why people love their goldens!

9. English setter

Also Irish setters, red and white setters and gordon setters.

These dogs are meant for hunting all day and are great running companions.

English setter

10. Pitbull

Pitbulls also vary tremendously in energy, size and personality. I’m not necessarily referring to the American Staffordshire terrier breed but any breed or mixed-breed referred to as a “pitbull.” Pitbull mixes are popular dogs and many of them make perfect running buddies!

Penny the pitbull mix

Some heavier set pitbulls might be better with a few slow, steady miles while others can easily handle 6+ miles. I’ve ran with many, many awesome pitbull mixes. They are among the best runners!

Other breeds among the best dogs for running:

Other breeds or mixed breeds to consider as running partners include:

Samoyed, goldendoodle, labradoodle, flat coated retriever, Chesapeake Bay retriever, Portuguese water dog, the Feist dog, curly coated retriever, beagle, American Eskimo dog, Elkhound, Cairn terrier and all other terriers and many mixed breeds!

Basically, most terriers, hounds, retrievers, spaniels and many mutts will make great running partners!

10 best small breed dogs for running

Some of these breeds have been mentioned already but I felt small dogs deserved their own category. They are often overlooked as runners even though some small dogs are among the best!

Don’t underestimate small breeds as great running dogs. Some of these little guys can easily outrun larger breeds. They can easily run 3+ miles at a time and some can even run 6-10+ miles!

1. Best small dog for running – the Jack Russell terrier

Absolute number one choice for a small breed running buddy.

Jack Russell terrier

I already mentioned the Jack Russell terrier in the distance category above but wanted to add them here as well.

2. Border terrier

Border terrier

Another high-energy small dog with the endurance to keep up on longer runs!

3. Rat terrier

Rat terrier

Are we noticing a pattern here with the terriers?

4. Shiba Inu

These dogs were originally bred as hunting dogs in Japan, according to their AKC page.

Shiba Inu dogs

Today they are the most popular companion dog in Japan and are growing in popularity in the U.S.

5. German pinscher

This breed is another small breed originally bred to hunt rats. Today they make active companions and watchdogs.

German pinscher

According to the AKC standard, this breed ranges from about 25 to 40 pounds.

6. Boston terrier

You’ll want to be careful running in the heat with a Boston terrier. Because of their “short” face some can have a harder time breathing and they can overheat easily.

Mack the Boston terrier

However, they certainly have the energy and enthusiasm for a run!

7. Schipperke

Schipperke

These little dogs are capable of hard work, according to their AKC page. They make great watchdogs and can catch rats.

8. Beagle

Beagle

Beagles love to run, follow their nose and track game!

9. Miniature poodle

Alice the moyen poodle

I already mentioned the standard poodle above, but all sizes of poodles are active dogs who make great running buddies.

Pictured is our friend Alice who is actually a moyen poodle (or medium poodle) between the standard and mini size. Follow Alice the Pupper on Instagram here.

10. Papillon

Papillons thrive in agility, and they make great, little runners!

Papillon

I’ve been eyeing the papillon breed as a future dog for myself! I’ve never owned a toy breed, and I love how athletic these guys are.

Other small breeds among the best dogs for running

Shelties, American Eskimo dog, Corgi, miniature pincher (min pin), cairn terrier, Westie, cocker spaniel and many mixed breeds.

List your favorite small dogs for running in the comments and I’ll add them to the post!

5 worst dog breeds for running

Every dog is an individual and I’m unfairly generalizing here. I hesitate to even list out the “worst” running breeds because there are definitely pugs that make great running buddies just as there are border collies who are lazy.

That being said, I would not recommend you get one of these breeds with the intention of making him your running buddy. You might luck out, but don’t count on it!

These breeds might be up for a brisk walk or even a slow 1-2-mile run. I just would not recommend these breeds if you are a serious runner and want your dog to tag along.

The laid-back energy of these breeds is one of the reasons they make great pets! Many people prefer a laid-back dog.

1. Pekingese

The Pekinese has a flat face, short legs and a thick coat.

Pekingese dog

They make great companions and may be one of the oldest breeds. While they are cute little characters, they are not a top choice for a running companion!

2. English bulldog

Though we all love them, let’s face it, they are better suited for brisk walks than runs due to their short, squatty bodies and flat face.

Zeus the bulldog. Seriously cute. Seriously not a runner.

They can overheat easily so if you do decide to run with your bulldog, head out early in the morning when it’s cooler and bring water along.

3. Newfoundland

I used to have a neighbor who said she ran with her Newfie and I could not believe it! The way he waddled along on walks with such low energy, I have no idea how they ran together.

Newfoundland dog

Newfies are “big boned” dogs with thick coats. They may be happy to walk 2-3 miles on occasion, but they would not be a top choice as a great running partner due to their size.

4. Pug

Simply because of their “pushed in” faces and short, heavier-set bodies, these guys may not be the best running buddies.

Adorable. Not a runner.

They may enjoy a brief 1-2 miles around the neighborhood on occasion or a brisk walk or hike, however!

5. Basset hound

Again, they might be happy to run a mile or 2 on occasion. However, they have short legs and long bodies so they enjoy walking and hiking. Remember that bassets are still hounds, after all, and they do love to be out following their noses!

Lucy and Patty. Love them! Not runners.

Other dogs that may not make the best runners:

Chow, Cavalier King Charles spaniel, Shitzu, Lhasa Apsa, Chihuahua, French bulldog.

Generally, very small breeds, very large breeds and breeds with flat faces are not your ideal running dogs but again, I’m generalizing.

There are definitely exceptions to the norm! Let me know your opinion in the comments!

Did I miss any of the best dogs for running?

Add your breed or mixed breed recommendation in the comments and I’ll add them to my lists!

Lindsay Stordahl is the founder of That Mutt. She writes about dog training and behavior, healthy raw food for pets and running with dogs.

source http://www.luckydogsolutions.com/best-dogs-for-running/ from Lucky Dog Solutions https://luckydogsolutions.blogspot.com/2020/07/best-dogs-for-running.html

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