#she's a maltese mutt

[werevampiwolf]

Admittedly, I'm biased because she's my grumpy little old lady, but Mochi is exactly what I think of when people say "little crusty white dog".

i think I have a very different understanding of what a little crusty white dog is compared to everyone else

[reginamillls]

but what if tommy does get a dog and it's a little one that's kinda yappy, like a chihuahua mixed with a maltese mixed with a corgi. kind of a question mark of a mutt. a fluffy adorable little shit.

it's been hanging out around harbor station for a while and tommy starts bringing it food scraps and after a while takes it to the vet and confirms it's not chipped so he decides to adopt it and names it frankie.

frankie takes to having a human so quickly. she's always on tommy's lap when he's sitting down anywhere. sleeps on the bed by his feet. follows him everywhere he goes.

she's up early morning ready for walkies and to go to work with her human. everyone at harbor loves having an unofficial station dog. she keeps them entertained and it's nice to have a little ball of fluff on your lap when you're having a hard shift. it's win win.

you know they spoil Frankie

she's the mascot of Harbor, when they do their photoshoot entries she's in every single picture, she's been in the official calendar for a few years now

when Tommy needs it the team fights over who gets to watch her

when Buck meets Frankie he's very clear that he isn't replacing her at all but Frankie loves Buck and that just makes Tommy like Buck even more they're adorable together

also at some point, Tommy and Frankie have those matching dog/human sweatshirts

[pandakong]

Doggust Day 1 - Mutt!

Her eyes looked more shocked and vacant at first hence, “what has she seen?”

Maltese-poodle mix I would love to have you if you’re not too loud.

[scullysexual]

A Jewel Beneath The Moonight [Rewrite]

@today-in-fic | ao3

Summary: For Mulder, a wealthy English-bred socialite who's had everything given to him since birth, the Titanic is shipping him off to a prison, a life he no longer wishes for or wants. For Scully, an Irish stranger from the lower class, it offers a new life, a future she can truly envision in America. What if the universe put them on the same path to achieve those dreams at the cost of life?

Chapter Two.

The accommodation is located on B-deck; easy enough to find. Phoebe and Mother are stopped along the way, a conversation proceeds in the middle of the hallway between the two women and some other people Mulder doesn’t care to remember the name of. His father shakes his head leading Mulder away.

“They’ll join us when they’re ready,” Bill says as they continue to walk to their rooms.

And the rooms are nice enough; mahogany furniture, floral tapestries covering the couches and chairs. The bedroom is large: a walk-in wardrobe Phoebe should hopefully be happy with. He touches the pillows and his disappointment comes when he finds they are feather. He places it back down.

In the mirror, he catches the reflection of the safe. Spinning around on his heels, he walks over to it, pulling it open. His hand strokes the inside feeling the cold iron. It’s of decent size, enough room to place valuables. He looks to the carry-on he’d brought on with him, an idea in his head. Reaching into the bag, his fingers gripping hold of the old leather book. He places it inside the safe. With a bit of manoeuvring he manages to fit it in and is still able to lock the safe afterwards.

Few people know about that book, a few more know about his talent that comes with it. Phoebe knew about the talent but not the book. His parents know briefly of his talent but again, not the book. The book is his and while he is in no way ashamed of his drawings- in fact, if one were to turn the first page they would be met with a very innocent drawing of his sister, however a bit further on and they’ll find the not-so-innocent drawings. It was those he wanted to keep secret.

“Fox!” he hears Phoebe’s clear-cut voice break through the air. Sighing, his moment of peace over, he double-checks that the safe is shut and locked and exits the bedroom to see his dearly beloved fiancé and the mutt she holds in a cage.

Mulder groans.

“Did you really have to bring that thing, Phoebe?”

Phoebe looks at him as though he’s just told her she wouldn’t be eating dinner for a month.

“Of course I had to bring her Fox,” she says in utter disgust. “Did you just expect me to leave her behind?” She takes the Maltese out of its cage, giving the cage to one of her maids before she holds the animal up.

“I know you don’t like the cage, sweetie. You can stay out of it from now on.” The dog begins fussing in her arms and Phoebe gasps. “Tuppence needs a potty break,” she hands the dog out to Mulder. “Take her.”

Mulder stares at the hairball currently in his face. “Can’t you take her?” he asks, careful to use the word ‘her’ rather than ‘it’.

“I can’t. I need to unpack.”

“I can do that.”

Phoebe looks at him like he’s grown another head.

“No, you’ll just put things in the wrong place.”

Mulder sighs and accepts his punishment.

“Alright, where’s the leash?”

Maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the doggy pooping area is the third class deck but it does. He had looked for an official area originally but there didn’t seem to be one that existed. He sees another dog doing its business on the deck and follows suit.

He lets the dog get on with it, lets it take its time too, maybe it’ll wander too far to the rail and fall off the ship, but Mulder’s never had much luck on his side before.

His attention moves away from the dog to the people. A man and his daughter who sits on the rails, her back against his chest, an arm securing her so she doesn’t fall off. The father points to the islands in the distance. Mulder can’t hear the words but he imagines that he’s telling her the names of them, maybe stories about who those people were. Maybe the man knows who the people were.

A second man, older than the first, sits on a bench with his eyes shut and lets the breeze ruffle what little hair he has.

 Mulder’s eyes move to another little girl who kicks a ball over to a red-headed boy. The boy picks the ball up, turning his face to the sky and Mulder watches as he balances the ball on his nose like a sealion in a zoo. The little girl laughs and as does another girl with the same red hair as the boy. Mulder finds himself drawn to it, drawn to the girl, a genuine smile breaking out across his face for what feels like the first time in a long time, his stomach twisting and heart folding in on itself all in a good way as he stares at her. Whatever this feeling is, he likes it.

“How old you do think that boy is?” a voice beside him asks. Mulder startles, never even hearing the man approach. “Fifteen? Sixteen?” Mulder moves his gaze back over to the red haired boy. “When I was fifteen, my father sent me off to boarding school.”

“You envy them?” Mulder asks. Most people he’s met in his life scorn them, question how they could live like that. Mulder appreciates the change of opinion.

“A little bit. Makes you wonder what experiences he’s had this far.”

The boy turns and Mulder is taken back slightly by the gash on his face.

“He’s experienced a good punch if that cut is anything to go by,” Mulder laughs. He stretches his arm out towards the man. “I’m Mulder,” he says.

The name strikes no recognition with a man for which Mulder is absolutely grateful for.

“John Byers.”

Similarly, the name does strike any recognition for Mulder either. The two shake hands just as the dogs wander over. Mulder opens the gate, attaching the leash back onto Tuppence.

“I’ll see you at dinner, then?” Byers calls as Mulder makes his way back inside.

“Yes, you will.”

Dinner turns out to be a dull affair, minus a bit of drama beforehand: Phoebe’s hissy fit at having “Nothing to wear” Mulder had got back to the room to find that everything had been packed away. The walk-in wardrobe he thought Phoebe would be fine with only has enough room to fit half her clothes into. She had cried that she wasn’t prepared to live out of her suitcase for a week. Mulder had compromised, given up the small area he’d reserved for his clothes to fit the rest of Phoebe’s. Now his clothes reside in his father’s room.

All in all, the whole debacle had delayed them by thirty minutes.

Other than that, the dinner remained uneventful. Mulder was continuously zoning out throughout it, his thoughts entirely focused upon the girl on the deck. Who was she? Why did he feel what he felt? What did he even feel? And why couldn’t he pull his thoughts away from her?

“Fox…Fox…” he swears he hears his Mother saying.

It’s Phoebe’s sigh of annoyance that forces him out of his reverie.

“He’s doing that thing again, Mother.”

“Fox!” his father barks. Mulder looks to his father, dazed for a moment and fully aware he has no idea what conversation is happening at the table. “Mr Skinner is speaking to you.”

Mulder looks towards the bald man, only now realising that he had joined their table.

“I’m sorry, Mr Skinner,” Mulder apologises. “You were saying?”

“I was just congratulating you and Miss Green on your engagement,” Skinner tells him.

Mulder smiles and reaches for Phoebe’s hand on the table, clasping their fingers together. Not showing anything is amiss, Phoebe smiles.

“Thank you, Mr Skinner,” Mulder says. He looks to Phoebe then. “My only wish is for this week to hurry so I can officially make Phoebe my wife.”

He brings the hand he holds to his lips then, placing a gentle kiss to the top of it. And Phoebe sends him a sincere smile.

Disgust rolls inside his stomach, curdling the food he’s just eaten, disgusted with himself. Mulder’s never hated himself more.

Just as they’re finishing their third course does the conversation change once more. Mulder pays no mind to it, he nods when he’s expected to and that is all.

“You’re old friend Bill,” a man from the farther end of the table shouts over. “Spender- is he on the ship, do you know?”

“I saw his son before,” says Phoebe. “He didn’t look too happy.”

“You remember Jeffrey, don’t you, son?” Bill asks Mulder.

“Yes, he was in my Psychology class at Oxford,” Mulder answers simply before going back to his soup.

The man at the end of the table pipes up again. “I never saw the point in educating yourself on those types of subjects. Seems a waste of time.”

“Fox has a special knack for reading people, don’t you?”

Mulder nods. He could read these people perfectly.

Dessert is on its way when the conversation changes once more. The man at the end of the table telling everyone, once again, that he has an opinion to make.

“Would anyone else sleep better knowing we weren’t sharing a boat with steerage?”

Mulder’s stomach twists, the chocolate mousse halfway to his mouth suddenly appearing unappetising.

“Mother and I saw some wandering down our hallway earlier. How they managed to get up there, I have no idea.”

“Maybe they were just lost, Phoebe,” Mulder says as gently as he can, the anger seething beneath.

“Whatever they’re excuse was, a crewmember soon shouted at them to leave and off they scurried.”

“Like rats in the woodwork, back down to the sewers where they belong,” the man at the end of the table gruffly laughs.

“I’m sure they won’t be an issue anymore,” says Father.

Done with the conversation and dinner all together, Mulder pushes his untouched dessert away.

“Fox?” his mother asks. Her eyes dart around, absorbing the reactions of everyone else at the table, a stickler for public perception.

“I just feel a bit sick,” Mulder says responds.

“You might have caught something off the docks earlier,” says Phoebe reaching up to touch his forehead. She looks to the table party worriedly, “He is burning up.”

Mulder brings her hand away. “I’ll see you later on,” he says and with that he leaves the table, no kiss, no hug, no form of intimacy at all, he just leaves.

The breeze is welcomed from the hot and stuffy dining room. For all their visitors at the table Mulder hoped the man he met earlier- Byers- would have joined them. It would have been nice to have somebody at the table who thought similarly to him.

He makes his way to the back of the ship, away from on-lookers and those who would judge him, happy to find the stern empty.

He walks over to the rails, feeling the cold oak between his fingers as he looks out to the darkness around him. His mind drifts back to earlier, to the father and daughter and he finds himself beginning to climb the rails.

His heart is in this throat every step. Mulder never considered himself afraid of much, if he was dared to do something he’d do it but maybe it’s the fact that he’s alone that scares him now, nobody around to catch him if he falls. Out here it’s only him- only him, the ship, and the sea and if he does fall that’s it.

He thinks about how that little girl must have felt. Was she afraid at first? Did she refuse to sit on the rail for fear of falling? Was it only when she felt her father behind her, arms around her chest that she felt safe, that only then did she trust she wasn’t going to fall?

“I hope you’re not considering jumping?”

Mulder startles, almost losing his balance in the process. He grips the rails tighter, suddenly questioning his choice of seating.

A nervous laugh falls from his lips.

“I wasn’t until you nearly made me.”

“Sorry,” the woman says. A woman’s voice. “I just saw you climb up there and got a wee bit nervous, that’s all.”

Mulder twists slightly so he can see the person. As he turns, he almost falls again when he realises who’s standing there.

The red-headed girl from earlier.

“Maybe you should get down,” she says, face a full display of concern. She edges closer slowly. “It’s a long way down if you fall off.”

She leans against the rails just as he’d done earlier.

“Maybe I like the risk,” Mulder says, a façade of a fearless smile appearing across his face. Really, he was shitting bricks.

“You won’t like the fall,” she says, her voice serious, no hint of the playfulness he was hoping to convey. “It’ll be like hitting concrete and if you just so happened to survive that, it won’t take long for the cold to get you.”

Mulder looks down into the water directly below him.

“How long we talking?” he asks.

Her answer is quick, ready like she’d been prepared to answer all along.

“Thirty minutes for the hypothermia to kick in, one to two hours before you die.” The facts all out, she turns sombre and concerned once more. “Not exactly a quick death if that’s what you wanted.”

Gaining her point, he begins to twist on the rails, back to the sea as he jumps down.

“There,” he says, dusting himself off. “No harm done.” He looks down at her, realising just how much he towers over her. Phoebe is tall for a woman, almost his height in heels, but this girl…Mulder estimates she not much taller than 5’4.

He stretches out his hand, curious as to why the universe has thrown her in his path for a second time that day and even more curious to know why she knows so much about cold water and hypothermia.

“I’m Mulder.”

She ignores his hand, an eyebrow shooting up. “Mulder? I’m not entitled to a first name?”

Mulder laughs nervously again, dropping his arm to his side. “You don’t want to know it.”

She regards him, as if wondering whether he is worth an interest in or not.

“In that case…” Her hand slides out towards him. “I’m Scully.”

Mulder stares at her hand for a moment before he takes it, feeling soft, warm skin under his own despite the cold evening. A warmth spreads through him, an undeniable connection being forged between their joined hands. Fate sure was a strange entity.

[havethetouch]

Ah man, this gonna be rough today or tonight I'm sure. See, when my Nana passed she left behind her dog Charlie, and Charlie lives next door to me with my Auntie and he is like.. old as fuck. 19, almost completely blind and deaf. He's a funky frail lil dude with Dementia so he acts like a puppy and screams a lot when he wants his momma. We call him lovingly a little tyrant because sometimes he sits down and wants to be "helped" up despite being able to get up himself but he will scream and for a little Maltese Yorkshire mutt he is fucking loud. Loud enough that I can hear him holler at 2am when he decides he doesn't feel like getting up himself you feel me? This loud. And the walls are thick af. So. Pretty sure he is on his way out. Like, at his age and all this is expected. But man today he had a fake-out were he just laid down and became a limp noodle and my aunt freaked the fuck out came over crying and shit - turns out nah, the dog ain't dead (yet) he was just very sleepy. I just put my hand on his ribcage and there was an even strong heartbeat so I calmed auntie down, checked the dog over, rolled him up in a blanky because it is a bit cold today and yeah... 5 mins later he was moving again and wanted to walk around a little. But I think he will go soon regardless of the quick improvement ngl. He refuses water and his favourite food so like... yannow? And this guy eats like a vacuum cleaner normally so I think this is the first sign. I brought him over to house so auntie can chill out a bit and sleep because the dog has been keeping her up since 2am and she is at her limit I think.

It's weird. I know this dog since I was a teen he was such a goddamn bastard back in the day and now he is a needy cuddlebug and now he probably will go soon. It is kinda weird too, because three of the five people we lost between 2020 - 2023 have left each a dog behind - my nana, my uncle and my dad. So it is like.. a living reminder of each of them is still around and one will go soon and idk my feelings man are all over the place currently while I keep an eye on Charlie. Made him comfy, will light up a fire early in the fireplace today so he has it cozy. Yah... idk. Needed to get those thoughts and feels a bit out of my head.

[ohsercndipity]

🎁 (drea) , 💓 (josh) , 💝 (shiloh) , 🎲 (conny)

DREA 🎁 - How do they feel about their birthday/birthdays in general?

She’s definitely not a big birthday person, especially her own. And I don’t think she ever has been. There was certainly a sort of fear of expectation in getting older when she was younger that her parents instilled and though that’s gone, she’s not someone that likes to go big for it. She’ll enjoy and appreciate a smaller gesture on her birthday much more than something larger. As for other people’s birthdays I think she likes an opportunity to make someone she cares about feel special. And if they want to go big, she’ll go big with them, but she’s not a oh my god you have to it’s your birthday person at all.

JOSH 💓 - What are some signs they’ve fallen for someone? How do they show their affection?

Like most things about Josh’s personal life and personal feelings, he’d be pretty subtle I think. He’s not one for PDA or grand gestures. I think he would be more forgiving for someone he cares for that deeply, something he is usually not. He’d be attentive and caring. He’d probably find himself looking into things they’re interested in just to talk to them about it because he enjoys hearing people he cares about be passionate about things, even if it’s not something he’s interested in.

SHILOH 💝 - What gestures do they really appreciate? How do you get on their good side?

Shiloh is probably one of the easiest people to get on your side. A kind gesture, a compliment, sending a funny tiktok, anything, it is very easy to get on her good side and very easy to befriend her. I think a gesture she really, deeply appreciates is when she’s speaking in a group, if someone actually listens to her. Though she could very easily talk to herself in the mirror for hours, it’s always nice to feel like you’re not talking to air. It’s a simple thing but it’s something that would stick with her if someone made sure she knew they were listening to her.

CONNY 🎲 - Pick a random question to answer from this list.

Picking: ‘🐾 - Do they have any pets?’

This is an excuse to talk about Conny’s mom’s rat dog that hates him because it’s an extremely important piece of lore. It does not have a name in my head but it’s probably about 12-14 years old, is a little white mutt that definitely has some of the following breeds in it: maltese, chihuahua, jack russell, shih tzu, and griffon. It is his mom’s favourite child and has been for years. It is trained (kinda) but it bites Conny’s and his sister’s ankles constantly, barks at them, has probably purposely peed in his room at least once. So it’s nice he’s at college most the year and doesn’t have to deal with that terror <3

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

15 tags 15 mutuals! 💜💜💜

Tagged by: @bloodlessheirbyjacques and @pinespittinink thank you!

Tagging: @jezifster @mjjune @italiangothicwriteblr @rose-bookblood @memento-morri-writes and anyone else who wants in!

Answer these questions either with yourself or an OC. Imma do myself and Princess Sapphire because i want to.

Me~

Are you named after anyone? No joke, my mom named me after her favorite book character. She named one of my sisters after another favorite book character of hers too.

When was the last time you cried? I watched Dead Poets Society for the first time recently and HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHY DID NO ONE WARN ME I BAWLED MY EYES OUT and THAT ENDING NOBODY TOUCH MEEEE IT WAS WAS SO SAD

Do you have kids? Nope, and I don't plan to. Imma live my best life as the cool witchy and single wine aunt

Do you use sarcasm? What? No.... I would never..... :)

What's the first thing you notice about people? How they stand and how they speak. I can tell a lot of things about them just based on that, including whether or not they're a fellow neurodivergent

What's your eye color? Blue <3

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings, I CANNOT do horror it scares the shit out of me. (spooky is cool, but actual horror and jumpscares is too far)

Any special talents? Does my obsession with history count? I do paint but it's more of a hobby and I'm not trying to get good at it

Where were you born? In the cult ridden hell that is Utah :P

What are your hobbies? Writing, obviously. But I also read, paint, and watch movies.

Have you any pets? Two dogs! I have a little maltese mutt who's six years old and a crumuginy old man, and a three year old goldendoole puppy who is the biggest turdler (toddlerxturd) there ever was. We also have a rabbit in our backyard but he belongs to my sister and she's the one who takes care of him.

What sports do you play/have played? HAHAHAHA No. Sports and I have never gotten along. Let's just say that the scenes of Mia in PE class in the movie Princess Diaries sums up my experience with sports perfectly.

How tall are you? 5'4''... Being short runs in my family, you should see my grandma, she's been a whole head shorter than me for a long time

Favorite subject in school? ENGLIGH AND ART BABY! But history also has a special place in my heart

Dream job? Full-time author and part-time party princess

Princess Sapphire~

Are you named after anyone? Nope, I'm the first in my line with my name!

When was the last time you cried? ... When I was like six I think? Father wouldn't let me ride the horses cause they were "too dangerous", but now I ride one all the time and ITS HARDDD.

Do you have kids? No... *looks at Raven* but maybe one day... if I met the right person...

Do you use sarcasm? Who me? Neverrrr ;)

What's the first thing you notice about people? The way they talk. It says a lot about how they act and who they are inside.

What's your eye color? Sapphire blue, in case you haven't guessed, that's where I get my name from.

Scary movies stories or happy endings? Happy endings are boring, gimme the good stuff, I'll take scary stories!

Any special talents? I can run really fast

Where were you born? In castle of Greyvenhill <3

What are your hobbies? Adventuring! anything that involves going outside and exploring.

Have you any pets? No but I would love to have one. Does Raven's horse Dante count?

What sports do you play/have played? Running and Dancing

How tall are you? 5'5''... I'm not that short!

Favorite subject in school?

Dream job? A pirate or cartographer <333

[the-cerberus-system]

Introductions!

Hello everyone! Welcome to my blog! This post will have a running list of my current alters and what breeds/species they all are! I'm not going to reveal ages outside of category, such as adult, middle, ageless and so on. My littles may reblog stuff, but they will not be interacting with or messaging anyone. With those things out of the way, on to mini intros!

Liam 🎶 (host)

He/they/xe/it

Husky/Border Collie/Jack Russell mix

Adult

Just a guy trying to survive

Lazerith 🪦 (main protector)

He/him

Hellhound/Beauceron

Ageless/Adult

Has too many eyes and is really a big softie

Puppy 🧸

He/they/xe

Pug/Corgi/Chihuahua

Little

Loves dinosaurs and plushies

Abbey 🐩

She/he

Poodle

Middle

Ashley's twin and loves Kesha

Ashley 👓

He/they

Afghan hound

Middle

Abbeys twin and loves reading

Pebble 🍄

They/them

Pitbull/Dalmation

Middle

Loves cottagecore and mushrooms

Pinkie 🎉

She/they

Pomeranian

Adult

Pinkie pie fictive that ate an abuser introject by unhinging her jaw

November 🦊

Mirror Pronouns

Fox

Adult

Keeps me in certain areas of the headspace

Victor 👔

He/him

Scottish Terrier

Adult

Does our taxes and is the local dad

Mama Jupiter 🪻

She/her

Maltese/Bichon

Adult

Adopted all the littles as her kids and is a little bit of a cigarette mom

Grey 🪲

She/her

Italian Greyhound

Little

Loves bugs a l o t

Melissa 🐎

She/her

Cocker Spaniel

Little

Loves horses and cowgirl stuff

Roz 🌮

He/they

Hyena

Adult

Scene as hell and used to be a beast boy and a fluttershy fictive before they fused into him

Daniel 🥎

He/it

Clumber Spaniel

Middle

Just a regular teen, that's also your average dog

Aloise 🩷

She/her

Springer Spaniel

Middle

Former host and slowly is coming into her own

Blue 🐺

She/her

German Shepherd/Wolf

Adult

Blue fictive from Wolf's Rain and really loves elk meat

Carmichael 😇

He, but doesnt mind others

Angel/Yellow Lab

Adult

Midwest customer service angel? Very strange combo but he quite literally gets the job done

Mason 🏚

He/him

Coyote

Middle

Terrified coyote pup that Mama is trying to help rehabilitate

Mutt 👻

They/them

Ghost/Unknown Mix

Little

Very little is known about them as they just appeared

I have 9 adults, 6 teens, and 4 littles

[rewiredthethirdblog]

Comment by TikkiTakkaMuddaFakka on Reddit

There is no advice that is going to fix this problem for you, no action you can take will make these owners leash their pet or not get upset at your response to their dog near you.

Years ago I used to go walking very regularly with a friend and his Doberman, she was a sweet heart named Chloe. She was always on leash and one day she had this off leash Maltese terrier decide to attack her, the only reason that dog did not die is because Chloe was on a leash and we were able to prevent her going in for the kill.

The owner of that dog then had the hide to start abusing us and telling us we shouldn't be allowed to own dangerous dogs, we told her to get stuffed and her and her dog were the dangerous ones here and to put her mutt on a leash before it gets itself killed, it's a tale as old as time, its just something you have to be prepared for because some pet owners are morons.

[captain-daryn]

Eeek I love posts like this!

Alfred - something regal and proper. A toy breed l like a Maltese or a Shih Tzu. A very well bred one, and very well behaved too. Never has a hair out of place.

Bruce - while I know Ace is a very obscure breed in some adaptations, I honestly think a Doberman or a Belgian Malinois would be perfect for him. Both extremely loyal to their handlers, and can be viscous and intimidating

Dick - Haley is almost exactly the dog I picture for Dick. Some kinda bully mix breeder mutt who is just happy-go-lucky. That is his little princess don't you dare insult her!

Jason - I can see some kinda scraggly terrier/mutt. A definite Tramp (like lady and the tramp). A wire-haired little thing with white hair and orange or brown spots.

Tim - something crazy intelligent like an Aussie or a Border Collie. He'd teach it to ride a skate board with him at the park, or to pull him on the skate board. Oooh maybe a Husky. Or a Husky/Collie mix.

Steph - a golden retriever or a yellow lab. Something classic, happy, and easy going. I think Kate Bishop and Steph would be best friends in a crossover, they need their pizza dog!

Cass - something gentle and calm. I could see her with another toy breed, but honestly I think she'd be more of a cat person. But if she did have a dog, I could see maybe a Chinese crested or maybe a cavalier? Something small, quiet, and cuddly. Maybe a Chihuahua or an Italian Greyhound.

Duke - maybe a hound dog? Or a hunting dog of some kind. Loyal and kind. I see something with floppy ears, a soft coat, and slobbery jowls. Maybe a hound, spaniel, setter, or pointer. If I had to pick specifics, I would go with a blood hound, treeing/coon hound, springer spaniel, gordon setter, or a shorthaired pointer.

Damian - he gets all the dogs. I think Titus is a great pet for him, regal and loyal as all guard dogs are bred to be. But I think he would honestly have any dog if given the chance. He's like me that way. I think he's a Giant Dog breed lover though if he had to choose, he'll have all the mastiffs, the livestock guardian dogs, and the sighthounds (Irish wolfhounds and Scottish deerhounds!).

I'd figure out more characters but I think this is the main group so far, at least the characters I'm familiar with anyway.

What dog breed would the batfam members own and what would the names be (or cats)

/reblog or comment 🐺/

[sidetongue]

Your dogs often remind me of dogs my fault has had. This is my childhood dog, Jammer. We always tried to figure out what he was. But I think he might have been a Munsterlander, which I'd never heard of until recently. He was afraid of cameras and would literally run away if he saw you trying to use one (and this was many years ago, before any of us had smart phones) so this is the only good picture I have of him. He was such a sweet and gorgeous boy, and Hen reminds me of him sometimes. It's hard to tell because it's grainy but the gray sections weren't gray, they were actually stark white but full of tiny black spots. He liked baby carrots and often couldn't be assed to get up to eat them if you tossed him one, so he'd just eat it while still laying on his side if it landed close enough to his nose. He was also very skilled in knowing what hallway you were gonna walk down and laying right across it, causing traffic jams, hence the name.

This is Riley. She passed away a few years ago and was the biggest lab I've ever seen. She was such a sweet ray of sunshine like Harold, and was very tolerant of my sister putting hats on her. She also had lovely eyeshadow. We got her as a young one while Jammer was getting up in the years. We actually originally were going to get her normal-sized brother, who we also called Riley, but he and Jammer didn't get along. Fun fact, her parents belonged to a family friend and were named Lucille Ball and Sir Monster Magic Johnson The Third. She loved bread and was big enough to put her head on the counter from all fours. She was from a litter of ten and was the anti-runt. Her siblings were all normal sized.

And this is my baby, Mochi, my little Budgy rat. She's a brat and I love her so much. She also refuses to sleep in my bed and cuddle at night, but she'll cuddle until she thinks I'm asleep before sneaking away. She also likes to try and bite the sprinklers while they're on. She's white with a light tan stripe down her spine and our best guess is she's a mutt that's mostly Maltese and Cairn Terrier.

She does clean up nice though.

As a bonus, here's my sister's late dog Coko, and her current dog, Cleo. Coko was inherited from our grandma and was raised by cats and acted like it. He was a Chiweenie and was a lot less thrilled with the hats than Riley was. His bed was an upside-down end table turned into a four poster bed. Also refused to eat out of bowls, so he had a food mat instead. He knew Jammer and lived for many years with Riley and Mochi. We always said he was a grumpy old man from the day he was born, even though he looked like a baby. Also Coko was short for either Cocogigimo or Kokojijimo. We could never decide which was how our grandma actually spelled it, hence the split-difference shortened name.

And Cleo steals socks and hates bare legs, but only if the person is standing up. Her skin is covered in gray spots that often show through her hair. She's some sort of chihuahua mix and always seems weirdly tall. She lives with Mochi, who was not thrilled to have gone from the Annoying Baby of the dog family to Annoyed Oldest Kid. Cleo's under-eye marks make her look like she's got eye bags lol.

Oh my goodness all these kids are so cute! Jammer is a super cool name, Riley looks like sunshine, Mochi is such a cute scruff, Coko looks like a whole mood, and Cleo DOES look like she had under eye bags lol. Thanks for sharing!

[lokilickedme]

Your neighbor is a real piece of work. May I also suggest one of your children take up playing bagpipes? Drums don't resonate through concrete, but bagpipes do. Also there's a colleges/universities with Celtic heritages offer full ride scholarships for joining their bagpipe bands. That was my excuse for purchasing a relative's child one.

I bet that would scare the shit out of those yappy little anklebiters. Oh they're outside again? Hey, time to practice your instrument kiddo. Do it out back would ya, I gotta make a phonecall in here. Also I think 6am would be the most ideal time to start practice - help the neighbors get out of bed on time for work and school. Just bein' neighborly over here! You're welcome!

BTW that sow brought home yet another dog. There are FIVE DOGS over there now. Those people are hardly ever home so at this point I'm convinced she keeps buying noisy animals just to fuck with me. I mean, the breeds she's choosing are specifically known to be incessant barkers and vicious bastards when not properly trained and cared for...a pomeranian (neverending high pitched yapping and growling at everything from passing cars to blades of grass), a bad tempered one-eyed maltese (this is the one that attacked and bit Little last September, he's a fucking psycho), something that looks like a chihuahua/hound mix (bark bark bark bark bark I stg it never ends), a hound-type mutt that is the only decently behaved one out of the pack except it escapes the yard all the time and trots up and down the street and I guarantee you if it gets hit by a car she will leave its corpse on the road until it decomposes and the raccoons eat it because she is like that. And the newest addition is a Husky puppy...notoriously one of the most needlessly loud dogs in existence. It's like it barks and howls through a megaphone aimed straight at my bedroom window.

Don't misunderstand my complaints, I like dogs in general just fine...I just dislike hers in particular because she does nothing to control them, and she just keeps adding more to the pack for shits and giggles and general assholery. And their fleas have taken over our yard. Yeah.

So...where's a good place to buy a bagpipe? Can I get one through mail order?

[romaniescu]

☆ Mun Aesthetics ☆

Name/Aliases || Boba/Bobina 

Pronouns || She/her

Sexuality || Bisexual 

Zodiac || Scorpio 

Pets || 3 Dogs, 1 Maltese, 1 Mutt, 1 Scottish Terrier. (Sassy. Abby, Oliver)

☆ Misc.

Hobbies || Gaming, Art, Rping, Photography 

Favorite game || Skyrim, Assassins Creed, Overwatch, RdR2, 

Favorite movie / tv show || UH FUCK. I like a lot of things tbh. this is hard.

Currently listening/ last song listened to || Dream - Imagine Dragons 

Current book/ last book read || Don't read often, only if it’s Drabbles or random snippets.  

Languages known || English, Romanian (A little), Japanese (decent), Spanish (decent), Arabic (very little.) 

Tagged by: @devilhornd​

Tagging: you

[spurgie-cousin]

**am not a professional so feel free to take my advice with a giant grain of salt**

I have a maltese-poodle little mutt I adopted at 12 weeks old. She came from a puppy mill and had all sorts of anxiety even as a puppy. We have worked with her the last 3 years and she is doing much better. Tips that worked for us:

1. Use a word/phrase to indicate “human is leaving and will be gone for some time”. For us it was a simple “bye bye Stella” said every time as we were leaving. She know that when we say that phrase we will not be back. It has become a sort of command to her.

2. Use a high-value treat during the initial trainings. Treat + good bye phrase = “Woo hoo! Human is leaving but i get amazing yums!!!” It helped our pooch associate us leaving with a positive thing. We used a super fragrant treat she LOVES but Only gave it to her when we said goodbye/left her alone. That made it extra special.

3. This tip is my least favorite, but most helpful. We used a lot of praise and repetition with our dog to help with anxiety. We would go to the door, say bye-bye and praise her (no treat). This got her used to the word/command. Then we would go to the door, say bye-bye, give small part of the treat, and walk outside and close the door behind us. Immediately open door and walk in again and praise (no treat). We slowly increased the amount of time we would be outside the door. Eventually we weaned her off the treats and used praise exclusively.

4. Even if you & Mr. SC work from home, leave pupper alone from time to time. A lot of pandemic dogs have become anxious since their owners never left them during their early development. For me, there is a park nearby that I walk to in order to leave the pup alone, get fresh air, and stay safe.

This was a lot of work and commitment but it really helped us. Now i think she looks forward to us leaving since we created such a positive association. I wish you the best of luck with your training and tacking separation anxiety!

P.S. feel free to not respond to this/publish this ask on your blog and just read at your leisure. This message got a *bit* longer than I had intended. 😅

These are right on par with all the other responses I've gotten which were basically "CRATE TRAINING!!!" in bold and all caps. We've been lax on the crate since we both work from home and have very flexible schedules, but I think we're going to start doing meals in the crate to get him used to it and then start leaving him alone with his favorite kong treat puzzle toy for small periods of time (we'll start with the time it takes to do a shower 🥴).

I actually started with the leaving phrases like "bye bye Jack!" because it used to help a dog I had in the past to know what was happening. He caught on really fast but now he starts whining when he hears it regardless of what food he has, so I think we're gonna try the "give food and sneak out" method, maybe also with the TV on because that seems to chill him out too (he's the first dog I've ever had that pays attention to the TV which is a trip lol).

Thank you everyone for all the tips!! Now that I know what to focus on I feel better, plus hearing individual success stories is encouraging. 😊

[scullysexual]

A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight [Reposted Anniversary]

If you’ve get to read the first chapter, you can read it on Tumblr. Alternatively, you can also find it on AO3 along with this chapter.

@today-in-fic @mypanicface @impulsive-astrophile @enigmaticxbee

- - - 

Chapter Two.

The accommodation is located on B-deck, easy enough to find. Phoebe and Mother get stopped along the way, a conversation proceeds in the middle of the hallway between the two women and some other people Mulder doesn’t care to remember the name of. His father shakes his head leading Mulder away.

“They’ll come when they’re ready,” Bill says as they continue to walk to their rooms.

And the rooms are nice enough; mahogany furniture, floral tapestries covering the couches and chairs. The bedroom is large: a walk-in wardrobe Phoebe should hopefully be happy with. He touches the pillows and his disappointment comes when he finds they are feather. He places it back down.

What’s a bit of lack of sleep for a week?

In the mirror, he catches the reflection of the safe. Spinning around on his heels, he walks over to it, pulling it open. His hand strokes the inside feeling the cold iron. It’s of decent size, enough room to place valuables. He looks to the carry-on he’d brought on with him, an idea in his head. Reaching into the bag, his fingers gripping hold of the old leather book. Pulling it out, he places it inside the safe. With a bit of manoeuvring he manages to fit it in and is still able to lock the safe afterwards.

Few people know about that book, a few more know about his talent that comes with it. Phoebe knew about the talent but not the book. His parents know briefly of his talent but again, not the book. The book is his and while he is in no way ashamed of his drawings- in fact, if one were to turn the first page they would be met with a very innocent drawing of his sister, however a bit further on and they’ll find the not-so-innocent drawings. It was those he wanted to keep secret.

“Fox!” he hears Phoebe’s clear-cut voice break through the air. Sighing, his moment of peace over, he double-checks that the safe is shut and locked and exits the bedroom to see his dearly beloved fiancé and the mutt she holds in a cage.

Mulder groans.

“Did you really have to bring that thing, Phoebe?”

Phoebe looks at him as though he’s just told her she wouldn’t be eating dinner for a month.

“Of course I had to bring her Fox,” she says in utter disgust. “Did you just expect me to leave her behind?” She takes the Maltese out of its cage, giving the cage to one of her maids before she holds the animal up.

“I know you don’t like the cage, sweetie. You can stay out of it from now on.” The dog begins fussing in her arms and Phoebe gasps. “Tuppence needs a potty break,” she hands the dog out to Mulder. “Take her.”

Mulder stares at the hairball currently in his face. “Can’t you take her?” he asks, careful to use the word ‘her’ rather than ‘it’.

“I can’t. I need to unpack.”

“I can do that.”

Phoebe looks at him like he’s grown another head.

“No, you’ll just put things in the wrong place.”

Mulder sighs and accepts his punishment.

“Alright, where’s the leash?”

Maybe it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the doggy pooping area is the third class deck but it does. He had looked for an actual area originally but there didn’t seem to be one that existed, he just followed the crowd in a sense and saw another dog doing its business down there.

He lets the dog get on with it, lets it take its time too, maybe it’ll wander too far to the rail and fall off the ship, but Mulder doubts he’s that lucky.

His attention moves away from the dog to the people. A man and his daughter who sits on the rails, her back against his chest, an arm securing her so she doesn’t fall off. The father points to the islands in the distance. Mulder can’t hear the words but he imagines that she’s telling her the names of them, maybe stories about who those people were. Maybe the man knows who the people were.

A second man, older than the first, sits on a bench with his eyes shut and lets the breeze ruffle what little hair he has.

Mulder’s eyes move to another little girl who kicks a ball over to a red-headed boy. The boy picks the ball up, turning his face to the sky and Mulder watches as he balances the ball on his nose like a sealion in a zoo. The little girl laughs and as does another girl with the same red hair as the boy. Mulder finds himself drawn to it and drawn to the girl, a genuine smile breaking out across his face for what feels like the first time in a long time, his stomach twisting and heart folding in on itself all in a good way as he stares at her. Whatever this feeling is, he likes it.

“How old you do think that boy is?” a voice beside him asks. Mulder startles, never even hearing the man approach. “Fifteen? Sixteen?” Mulder moves his gaze back over to the red haired boy. “When I was fifteen, my father sent me off to boarding school.”

“You envy them?” Mulder asks. Most people he’s met in his life scorn them, question how they could live like that. A change in tune is a nice welcome.

“A little bit. Makes you wonder what experiences he’s had this far.”

The boy turns and Mulder is taken back slightly by the gash on his face.

“He’s experienced a good punch if that cut is anything to go by,” Mulder laughs. He stretches his arm out towards the man. “I’m Mulder,” he says.

The name strikes no recognition with a man for which Mulder is absolutely grateful for.

“John Byers.”

Similarly, the name does strike any recognition for Mulder either. The two shake hands just as the dogs wander over. Mulder opens the gate, attaching the leash back onto Tuppence.

“I’ll see you at dinner, then?” Byers calls as Mulder makes his way back inside.

“Yes, you will.”

Dinner turns out to be a dull affair, minus the bit of drama beforehand: Phoebe’s hissy-fit at not “having anything to wear”. Mulder had got back to the room to find that everything had been packed away. The walk-in wardrobe he thought Phoebe would be fine with only has enough room to fit half her clothes into. She’d cried that she wasn’t prepared to live out of her suitcase for a week. Mulder had compromised, given up the small area he’d reserved for his clothes to fit the rest of Phoebe’s. Now his clothes reside in his father’s room.

All in all, the whole debacle had delayed them by thirty minutes.

Other than that, the dinner itself was a dull affair. Mulder was continuingly zoning out throughout it, his thoughts entirely focused upon the girl on the deck. Who was she? Why couldn’t he think of anything else? Why did he feel what he felt? What did he even feel?

“Fox…Fox…” he swears he hears his Mother saying.

It’s Phoebe’s sigh of annoyance that forces him out of his reverie.

“He’s doing that thing again, Mother.”

“Fox!” his father barks. Mulder looks to his father, dazed for a moment and fully aware he has no idea what conversation is going on. “Mr Skinner is speaking to you.”

Mulder looks towards the bald man, only now realising that he had joined their table.

“I’m sorry, Mr Skinner,” Mulder apologises. “You were saying?”

“I was just congratulating you and Miss Green on your engagement,” Skinner tells him.

Mulder smiles and reaches for Phoebe’s hand on the table, clasping their fingers together. Not showing anything is amiss, Phoebe smiles.

“Thank you, Mr Skinner,” Mulder says. He looks to Phoebe then. “My only wish is for this week to hurry so I can soon make Phoebe my wife officially.”

He brings the hand he holds to his lips then, placing a gentle kiss to the top of it. And Phoebe sincerely smiles at him.

Mulder’s never hated himself more.

Just as they’re finishing their third course does the conversation change once more. Mulder pays no mind to it, he nods when he’s expected to and that is all.

“You’re old friend Bill,” a man from the farther end of the table shouts over. “Spender- is he on the ship, do you know?”

“I saw his son before,” says Phoebe. “He didn’t look too happy.”

“You remember Jeffrey, don’t you, son?” Bill asks Mulder.

“Yes, he was in my Psychology class at Oxford,” Mulder answers simply before going back to his soup.

The man at the end of the table pipes up again. “I never saw the point in educating yourself on those types of subjects. Seems a waste of time.”

“Fox has a special knack for reading people, don’t you?”

Mulder nods. And I can read you people better than you think.

Dessert is on its way when the conversation changes once more. The man at the end of the table telling everyone, once again, that he has an opinion to make.

“Would anyone else sleep better knowing we weren’t sharing a boat with steerage?”

Mulder’s stomach twists.

“Mother and I saw some wandering down our hallway earlier. How they managed to get up there, I have no idea.”

“Maybe they were just lost, Phoebe,” Mulder says as gently as he can, the anger seething beneath.

“Whatever they’re excuse, a crewmember soon shouted at them to leave and off they scurried off.”

“Like rats in the woodwork, back down to the basement were they belong,” the man at the end of the table gruffly laughs.

“I’m sure they won’t be an issue anymore,” says Father.

Done with the conversation and dinner all together, Mulder denies dessert as its served.

“I just feel a bit sick,” Mulder says when questioned.

“You might have caught something off the docks earlier,” says Phoebe reaching up to touch his forehead. She looks to the gathering worriedly, “He is burning up.”

Mulder brings her hand away. “I’ll see you later on,” he says and with that he leaves the table, no kiss, no hug, no form of intimacy at all, he just leaves.

The breeze is welcomed from the hot and stuffy dining room. For all their visitors at the table Mulder hoped the man he met earlier- Byers- would have joined them. It would have been nice to know someone thought the same things as him.

He makes his way to the back of the ship, away from on-lookers and those who would judge him, happy to find the stern empty.

He walks over to the rails, feeling the cold oak between his fingers as he looks out to the darkness around him. His mind drifts back to earlier, to the father and daughter and he finds himself beginning to climb the rails.

His heart is in this throat every step. Mulder never considered himself afraid of much, if he was dared to do something he’d do it but maybe it’s the fact that he’s alone that scares him. Whenever a dare in involved there’s always at least another person, someone to catch you if you fall, someone to pull you back when they get too scared but out here it’s only him- only him, the ship, and the sea and if he falls that’s it.

He thinks about how that little girl must have felt. Was she scared at first? Did she refuse to sit on the rail for fear of falling? Was it only when she felt her father behind her, arms around her chest that she felt safe, that she knew she wasn’t going to fall?

“I hope you’re not considering jumping?”

Mulder startles, almost losing his balance in the process. He grips the rails tighter, wondering if this was such a good idea after all.

A nervous laugh falls from his lips.

“I wasn’t until you nearly made me.”

“Sorry,” the woman says. A woman’s voice. “I just saw you climb up there and got a wee bit nervous, that’s all.”

Mulder twists slightly so he can see the person. As he turns, he almost falls again when he realises who’s standing there.

The red-headed girl from earlier.

“Maybe you should get down,” she says, face a full display of concern. She edges closer slowly. “It’s a long way down if you fall off.”

She leans against the rails just as he’d done earlier.

“Maybe I like the risk,” Mulder says, a façade of a fearless smile appearing across his face. Really, he was shitting bricks.

“You won’t like the fall,” she says, her voice serious, no hint of the playfulness he’s trying to have. “It’ll be like hitting concrete and if you just so happened to survive that, it won’t take long for the cold to get ye.”

Mulder looks down into the water directly below him.

“How long we talking?” he asks.

Her answer is quick, ready like she’d been prepared to answer all along.

“Thirty minutes for the hypothermia to kick in, one to two hours before you die.” The facts all out, she turns sombre and concerned once more. “Not exactly a quick death if that’s what you wanted.”

Gaining her point, he begins to twist on the rails, back to the sea as he jumps down.

“There,” he says, dusting himself off. “No harm done.” He looks down at her, realising just how much he towers over her. Phoebe is tall for a woman, almost his height in heels, but this girl…Mulder estimates she not much taller than 5’4.

He stretches out his hand, curious as to why the universe has thrown her in his path for a second time that day and even more curious to know why she knows so much about cold water.

“I’m Mulder.”

She ignores his hand, an eyebrow shooting up. “Mulder? I’m not entitled to a first name?”

Mulder laughs nervously again, throwing his arm to his side. “You don’t want to know it.”

She regards him, as if wondering whether he is worth an interest in or not.

“In that case…” she draws out. “I’m Scully.”

[kodzusken]

Peter Parker + a dog chasing him while in the spidey suit (you pick which one lol)

*insert iMovie title text*

Peter Parker has always been fond of his dog, Sandwich. Especially since Sandwich had the potential to make a very good sandwich...... nevermind. Hunger could dictate many emotions in Peter, clearly.

Being a dog from the street, there was no doubt Sandwich was homozygous dominant for ugly. He had a great, loving personality, but 🤢. Combined with a certain Dorito stench, beady eyes, and a dumb-looking face, Peter knew all too well he had to locate in his heart the needle of compassion in the haystack for that stupid dog. Yes, that’s right, it was time for Sandwich to get a girlfriend.

You were probably not expecting that. Neither was I- the author. Peter could explain.

It all began the summer of last year, back when Tony Stark had permitted him to work as an intern. (Yes, you may cry.) Coolest job ever, right? Wrong.

He was out fighting crime day and night, missing school, hopping out bus windows while Ned covered for him, simping for Liz, who he ditched.. all that jazz. He got beat up more times than he could count, and even crushed under a building, no sweat. Seeing as there was no trace of his hauntings on Buzzfeed Unsolved, it was clear he was very much alive- just as Ned had predicted, unfortunately. In spite of it, at the end of the day, it was what he was required to do, and he executed. There was overwhelming stress that came along with the job— being a high schooler and all, sure— but if he didn’t look fly on @spideyno1fan’s vlogs, what was the point?

But then, the internship took turn for the worse. Right after he was brought back, Tony died, and he bestowed upon Peter a responsibility that would change his life— official babysitter of his four-year-old daughter, Morgan. This... was magnitudes worse than fighting villains. What do you even do with a girl who has a wild obsession with princesses and an insatiable appetite for cheeseburgers? Not to mention Tony’s right-hand-man, Happy, falling in love with his aunt.

That was fine.

All of this, and not even a single paycheck. Peter had had enough.

After thirteen hours of ignoring MJ’s trail of thirst texts and scrolling through his celebrity twin, Tom Holland’s, social medias, Peter came across Tessa. She was a true source of inspiration for what Peter was about to do. Tessa was a cute, stocky dog, and meanwhile, Sandwich was not. But Peter noticed the attention Tessa got. Everyone loved her— some to a point where they weren’t afraid to show their [true colors] in the comment sections... but Peter tried not to think about that.

It was late August, excruciatingly hot, and Peter’s only comfort was a panting mutt at his side and May’s two-decade-old electric fan. Yet slumped there in the bosom of the couch, strands of his curls dancing against his glossy forehead to the soft breeze of the fan, he had a revolutionary idea. Peter was going to find Sandwich a mate and become a breeder.

It wasn’t founded on a whim. The boy had done his research on WikiHow and Yahoo Answers, and considering Sandwich was a male, he could make some nice, adorable, puppies. Peter cackled at the thought. He often referred himself to that one Bernie Sanders meme— in desperate need of financial aid. Before he was unable to afford failure. Now, he couldn’t afford even a single pencil. 😂. If he sold puppies, maybe he’d get some income. Or even get rich?? Everything seemed so possible. Maybe he’d call the business “Parker’s Pupperia” or “Dog’s Frick Chamber”— both sounded equally bad.

Promising Sandwich to be back with a girlfriend, and promising his own he did, in fact, have protection, Peter left his apartment in search of a proper mate for his four-legged friend. Peter, a skilled member of the Avengers, knew there was no better way to find a great selection of dogs than by house-by-house “inspection”. After all, he was the “friendly neighborhood Spider-Man”, except he wasn’t so sure about the “friendly” part. Was it pet-napping if he’d return the dog later? The answer was yes, and Peter was inconsolable. But he was so poor he decided to do it anyway.

Peter had learned from his last experience of not bringing the suit with him. He pulled the mask over his nose and secured it— this was going to be a Grand Theft Auto, dog edition, and who knew? If people were being troublesome it wouldn’t take much for him to blow up their home. Just saying.

The wretch of society, his long-time middle-aged, blonde-haired neighbor, Karen, had the perfect dog her family had adopted a couple of years ago. Luckily for Peter, he knew for a fact it was a girl.

It took a relatively short time swinging from his apartment complex down to Karen’s house. Creeping in from an open window, he scaled along the bright “Live, Laugh, Love Forever” wallpaper, passing by her unvaccinated children with ease. Peter found his target dozing on the floor. She was a small, white pooch, with neatly trimmed fur and floppy ears— a toy dog at best. Still cuter than Sandwich by a landslide. Peter figured he would take his chances.

But this Maltese was alert, and very angry. It was the 🐶🔪 type. Suddenly, Peter was not a perpetrator, but a victim. He was running past buildings, trees, cars, swooping in and around backyards. He thought he knew how to run fast, but this dog knew how to run faster. How did the dog even get out of the house???1?1?1 Unexplainable and quite honestly should’ve been impossible. The longer he ran, the louder the barks got, and the closer the white furball monster approached. Peter never knew small footsteps could be so terrifying. Well, yes he did, but those were Morgan’s. His breaths were coming in and out in short outbursts, and he felt the fatigue catching up to him as much as the dog was. Then, the world went black.

Peter awoke to several text notifications from May, and a snoring Sandwich next to him. It was the usual, “Don’t do anything dangerous while I’m gone shopping, ok?” and “Clean your room for me, please?”. Ned had also found a premium set at the LEGO store and MJ wanted him to come over apparently.

Throwing his phone aside, he clasped Sandwich’s hairy face and leaned in close.

No, it wasn’t for a kiss.

“I will never, ever, make you mate for puppies so I can get rich and I love your ugly face so much, bud.”

Sandwich blinked in response.

___________________________

Let’s make it really clear that this was not @parkershoodie’s fic and I wrote this as satire 💀💀💀

#👀