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#my true sympathy for anyone leaving home and starting out these days especially idk what y'all are meant to do to survive
shopwitchvamp · 3 months
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If you already aren't getting your security deposit back you could dump grease down the drains, leave nails and nailholes everywhere in the walls, release a snake into the ventilation system. Most of these are unfortunately things best to do if you are planning to move or actually getting ready to move. This is in response to the post about the shoes on the ceiling you rebloged
😂 omg not the vent snakes!!
It'll be a while until we move, but I do hope to escape Texas maybe next year. Our lease just renewed and yeah I'm pretty salty about how much they're raising the rent >;[ Love that it can just go up infinitely without any limits here..
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lemony-snickers · 11 months
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I don’t think anyone here believes you to be pathetic. I certainly don’t leaving anon hate is pathetic. I imagine it was more of what you said that no one wanted to continue to perpetuate that hate and start a fight. I on the other hand will, I just didn’t see these until right now.
wherever that anon is now I find it absolutely disgusting to leave a comment like this on the page of someone you consider yourself to be a ‘fan’ of. You never know what people are going through and struggle with so really who the fuck are you to come in with your unfounded opinions?
I don’t know any creator that doesn’t struggle with their work and or self image in relation to that work—some are just better at hiding it than others. what do you mean promotion? Sharing here or on ao3 is promotion, and yes it clearly is a problem other writers are facing in which a work will receive 40likes and 2reblogs. Or 500 hits and 10comments. People don’t want to engage when they can read it and leave it, tiktok only reenforces that, so I don’t understand why you mention that here. How about you share some of the works your a “fan” of instead?? You’ve read the comments but have you left one? On lemony work or others?
That anon must not be a creator, as they clearly do not know how difficult it is to first find the time and drive to write and second find the courage to share those works.
Lemony do not listen to them no one who is a true fan here thinks this of you 💙
let me be clear about a few things:
no bashing or negativity aimed at an anon is ever necessary to still show support for a person who receives a less than ideal ask;
when i rb a "tell me honestly" ask game, i do not expect every response to be positive;
however, i also only rb those things when i know i am in an emotional space to take potential criticism.
so i was pretty fucking blindsided when i woke up on tuesday morning and the very first thing i saw was a long, fairly aggressively worded diatribe about how i am a "nagging girlfriend" fishing for attention in response to an ask game i had reblogged a whole week prior.
TW: talk of animal death in next paragraph.
and not that it's actually anyone's business, but it was particularly awful given that i spent monday night cradling my cat in my arms as he was euthanized after developing sudden & unexpected heart failure. so i wasn't in the headspace to deal with criticism at all. i could barely fucking get out of bed & was actually considering offering commissioned fics out of desperation to go toward the huge vet bill i had to suddenly pay out of pocket.
and then, to receive another anon ask insinuating that i sent the fucking thing to myself to garner... what? attention and sympathy? (lol if i wanted to do that i would've just talked about my dead cat, thanks!) really fucking cut deep. especially when not a soul voiced any support - publicly or privately - that that is not a thing i would do. because, true or not, the way my super cool nagging girlfriend brain works is to take that as confirmation that people agree:
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(see anon # 1, i don't throw all of my insecure complaints onto this blog and here, anon # 2, a preview of what a mean ask i sent myself might actually sound like.)
i spent the whole of tuesday crying - at my desk, on the bus home from work, during my therapy session that afternoon, and long, long after. and maybe it's stupid to feel so attacked by meaningless shit on tumblr or lonely because of the lack of response in its wake, but goddamn, y'all. there are nicer ways to air your grievances with me than to be insulting. and if you think i'm the kind of person who would send a lengthy hurtful message to myself for fucking likes or kind asks or whatever (lol joke's on you, i guess), honestly, why are you even here?
tbh, i don't know why i'm here at this point. maybe another hibernation is overdue or maybe i should've stayed gone, idk. what i do know is i didn't login all day yesterday and it felt pretty great. because it just fucking hurt to watch countless folks like and rb all the fanart from my queue that day with nary a, "hey lem, saw those asks, hope you're doing all right" in the same span of time.
(i will acknowledge that one mutual sent a totally unrelated ask re: an opinion on food & drink to change topics which i answered privately because by that point in the day i was so fucking depressed the thought of trying to be fun & lighthearted made me physically ill & i was of the resolute opinion that not a single person would give a shit what i had to say about it anyway.)
i'm sorry to vent on your ask, anon. i probably shouldn't post this but who even cares at this point, lol. people will think what they will of me and i'm too exhausted to attempt a curation of something better or more well-adjusted or self-assured.
i hope you're having a good week, blue heart anon. for better or worse, i hope the anons who made me cry on tuesday are, too. but i'm down in The Pit now (which is what my therapist and i call my deep dark depression spirals) and idk when i'll claw my way back out.
hopefully soon. take care of yourselves in the meantime, yeah? <3
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ralfstrashcan · 4 years
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thoughts on the older sh generation (maryse, robert, luke, jocelyn, valentine, jia, imogen, etc)
In short: They all suck hahaha. Kidding!! (Or am I???)
Maryse. For this I wanna differentiate between Good!Maryse and Bad!Maryse. I have a lot of appreciation for Bad!Maryse because she’s a greatly balanced character, calculating, cunning, a true opportunist and dipping into emotional abuse/manipulation (though I honestly don’t think she does it intentionally).I very begrudgingly tolerate Good!Maryse. I don’t hate her redeemed state per se, but I roll my eyes whenever she’s on screen and it has everything to do with her ‘redemption’ that happened in one second and off-screen. I’m all for a character seeing the error of their ways and becoming the best version of themselves but you have to work for that and the show didn’t. Instead of showing her struggle, of showing the hardships a redemption brings, two steps forward and one step back, the glacially slow improvement of the relationship between Maryse and all the people she wronged (her children and especially Magnus) the show opted for instant forgiveness and family feels from everyone involved. And it pisses me off so much. So everytime goody two-heels Maryse makes an appearance, declares her love for Magnus and has the audacity to lead him to the altar (when this was clearly Cat’s place!!) I’m reminded of the disappointingly cheap 'character development’ we got and rage XD
Robert. What is there to say about Robert except that he’s disappointingly wasted potential in human shape? He was surprisingly supportive of Malec after 1x12, he wanted to ‘talk Maryse around’ and instead of exploring this potential of him being the supportive and less racist parent, the one with an actual cordial relationship with Izzy and exploring the family drama that ensues when he cheats, the show pushed him aside and made him a weak-spined tool that’s good for nothing. So yeah, Robert can get lost since he’s a waste of everyone’s time.
Luke. Oh yeah, my man Luke. I have a lot of fondness for Luke because he’s the cool dad friend and a cool cop. But boy does he lack common sense sometimes haha. It’s infuriating. Always sticking his fingers into weird substances instead of, idk, using his werewolf senses. He used his pack as a personal army to defend his interests (aka supporting the shadowhunters) and it’s why they cancelled him (and rightly so). He pointlessly wanted to get framed for Heidi’s massacre and gives shit advice (Maia: How do I tell people what to do when I can’t get my own life to make sense? - Luke: You’ll figure that part out.). But he’s the dad. I love his energy and the way he emotionally supports Clary and Simon and Jace and kicks ass (whenever the plot allows it, lol).
Jocelyn. Wait, did I say Robert is a waste of everyone’s time? I take it back. Jocelyn is the real waste of everyone’s time. She’s so annoying. Never gives any relevant information, is self-righteous to a degree that makes me sick, and freakin unteachable. The only good thing she ever did was leave the Circle and love Clary. But apart form that she’s constantly getting on my nerves with her pathos. Ngl I cheered when she died. *Lorenzo voice* Goodbye and good riddance.
Valentine. He’s pretty good at influencing and manipulating people, considering the fact that the only thing he has to offer is fanatism, home-cooked spaghetti and emotional abuse. I mean, why does anyone follow him? He’s supposed to be so charismatic but… I have yet to see something that convinces me. Don’t get me wrong, I love Alan van Sprang’s acting but the actions of the characters and how people react to him don’t line up at all. Anyway, as a character Valentine makes a decent villain. He’s brute force instead of refined elegance but we can’t all be Asmodeus, right?
Jia. Ugh, honestly I don’t know. I did like her up to the end of 3A because I felt she was stern but just. After that I was not so sure anymore. For example that deal she tried to strike with Iris? Shady as shit. And to this day I’m not entirely sure she didn’t know about Aldertree’s little undownworldering-downworlders-program. She does make a good politician though, I guess. I like her vibe but I’m not sure about her morality.
Imogen. *sigh* Talk about a character who could have SO EASILY EVADED HER DEMISE. Honestly. First aid first, then fire message sending. It’s not that hard. I just… smh. You get no sympathy from me, Imogen. Apart form that she’s a hypocritical hardass, pretends to care about justice but really just cares about favoritism. And her “It’s the Herondale in you” spiel is so ridiculous XD XD I mean, points for comedy?! The only thing that really works in her favor is that she’s the only character who actually looked better after a haircut. (Underhill weeps in the background. Speaking of which!)
Underhill. He’s a nice fella. Finally someone who appreciates the work Alec does as Head of the Institute. Even though he was occasionally misused as a plot device (to bait cheating angst in 3x06, to appear anti-Magnus in 3x15) there was always an acceptable explanation for his behavior so I didn’t have to resort to hating him. He really started growing on me when I included him as a background character in a few of my fics. He’s a gentleman and a true friend and I adore him.
Hodge. I’m kinda fond of Hodge even though he turns out to be a traitor. Tbh I never really got why he did that? He didn’t strike me as super anti-Downworlder so the only explanation I see is revenge on the Clave and I mean, supporting genocide just to get personal revenge? Talk about a shit morality. And how could he betray the Lightwood kids like that? He helped raise them, dammit. Can I just pretend there’s an alternate timeline where he didn’t betray them and is the cool uncle friend? Thanks.
Aldertree. Lovely as a character, despicable as a person. He’s so sleek and slimy that it’s a delight to see him act and even more delightful to see him be put in his place by Alec
Lydia. She’s not strictly part of the older sh generation but a) I headcanon her to be a few years older than Alec, what with her position as Clave Envoy and already having been married so that has to be enough because b) how could I pass up this opportunity to proclaim my love for her?? She’s a wonderful character, steadfast in spite of her less than ideal situation and her ensuing resignation. She still tries to be just and good and fight for what is right. I’m forever robbed that she just disappeared, never to be seen again during S2.
Did I forget anyone??
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arabvllas-blog · 6 years
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          i don’t actually know how to write intros, i’d rather just kms but let’s give it a try anyway . . . also, disclaimer / i started writing this like three hours ago but right as i was getting to the good stuff my stomach did some freaky weird shit so i had to improvise the rest which is. . . messy, At Best ! but regardless, i hope you don’t judge me too much ? my name is zee, i’m 20 years old and i’m from the gmt timezone. i also use she/her pronouns. under the cut, i’ll be introducing you to ARABELLA HOWARD, who’s small, blonde, and troubled. sounds interesting ? then please give it a like and i’ll hop on your IMs so that we can plot something dramatic and juicy <3
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&. 【 is that OLIVIA HOLT ? oh, never mind, it’s just ARABELLA HOWARD. the CIS FEMALE originally from GRANDVIEW. SHE is majoring in FINANCE and is TWENTY years old. i also hear they’re INCISIVE, yet sometimes PITILESS. they apparently told detective’s they were ava’s TUTOR. i have a feeling there’s more to the story than that !
tw: abuse mention b a c k s t o r y : 
arabella elise howard was born to a fairytale — her mother had been a professor with her round glasses hidden by stacks of books, while her father lived life without a worry, flying from country to country and enjoying the best money could buy. it didn’t make sense for their paths to cross, and it didn’t make sense for matthew howard to fall head over heels for the shy yet headstrong theresa wayne, but they did ; he did. and soon enough, he was whispering loving words to a big belly that housed the very product of their love.
but perhaps because it all seemed too good to be true, their happiness was short-lived. on the eve of arabella’s 3rd birthday, matthew’s car skidded along the icy roads, ending the couple’s life. too young to even notice their absence, arabella was handed over to her mother’s sister — she was a toddler reaching aimlessly for the same head of blonde hair that she’d known since birth. except this one wasn’t as kind, and surely not as loving.
leila wayne had loved her little sister, and had taken care of her when their senile parents couldn’t. growing up, there wasn’t one without the other. theresa was leila’s pride, the one wayne that would succeed and remember her big sister on the way up. that was until matthew barged in, corrupting her sibling, feeding her lies and stealing her away across the country. there wasn’t a day that went by that leila was sure theresa would still be alive if not for that man. him and his lies, convincing theresa that leila was too controlling, too obsessed, that she wanted her little sister to stay in the gutter with her.
the more she looked at arabella, and those dark eyes she’d inherited from her father, the more hatred festered in leila’s heart. she was the only living family that could take care of the orphaned howard child; how ironic.
growing up, arabella was almost fooled into thinking her home life was normal. the screaming at every mistake, the poor dinner comprised of day-old takeouts, the wasted mattress on the corner of the room that she curled into, whimpering as the lights went off and leila locked the door for the night. but still, some part of her knew deep down, that she had once known more; known better. and it was those blurry dreams of loving hugs and white-teeth smiles that kept the child, then teenager, alive.  
after here i got sick so bear with me as i try to complete this fajsidas
she was often alone for most part of her teenage years, burying herself in whatever books she got at the school library. because she couldn’t relate to the rest of the peers her age, arabella focused all her attention towards studying and making sure she could one day get as far away from her aunt as possible. she got a competitive streak, often harboring anger and envy towards anyone that got a better grade than her, though it meant she was always pushing herself to do better — but not always better for her, but better than them.
teachers and counselors often considered arabella as a rare gem, supporting her all the way to college applications and assuring her there was no way she wouldn’t get a scholarship with her record. so it was really a slap to the face when everyone started getting acceptance letters but her. until she discovered them ripped apart and half burnt in the trash, courtesy of leila. when confronted, the older woman claimed she was just like her mother. so eager to get away, to act like she was a monster they had to run from. but she refused to let arabella leave, like theresa had. ( i’m sure there would be a way to reverse this but idk enough about american education so let’s just go w it for the sake of the story). it was a tipping point, the last drop of water that would send the vase tipping over. that night, arabella locked her aunt in the same room she had spent her childhood in, lights turned off, the only sound the faint rumble of cars passing by. no matter how much the woman yelled, slammed, begged, she turned her back and packed the little she had been given. two days later, as the cab driver hauled up her luggage in the trunk, arabella unlocked the door to a passed out and starving leila, and left without saying goodbye.
she ended up going to her last choice aka grandview, while living alone in her little shoebox apt that was all hers, with lots of light. and when the opportunity actually came to attend oakridge, arabella was the first to take it. while it wasn’t her dream college, it was still a prestigious one, and since ridding herself of the dead weight in her life, she’d started planning to rise as far as they would let her go. far enough that the whispers in the dark couldn’t get to her.
p e r s o n a l i t y and t i d b i t s : 
very self-centered, only ever concerned about her and what happens to her and will this affect her ? really the last person to go to if you want someone to listen… that one girl that zones out when someone starts monologuing and comes back only when her name is mentioned. has a hard time feeling sympathy, especially if you’re rich.
always overthinks her words and waits 5 seconds before speaking to make sure it’s exactly what she wants to say and if it’s something bitchy then that’s just the way it is. but she’s more reserved than outgoing, so if she does say smth mean you just really asked for it. or it’s finals time. 
driven and dedicated about her academics…. like obviously they all are but she’s a freak about it. i’m talking redbull intoxication feat. one of those pinterest pics of like a bunch of coffee cups just laying around like someone’s got time to spare. if she’s not studying, she’s reading…. likes classics but also occasionally reads NA in the middle of the night because no one will ever know.
is very scared of the dark. can’t sleep without a light on, or two on very hard days. once in highschool some kids decided to prank the teacher and turn off all lights and blinds in the classroom and she had a panic attack that led them all to detention. it was a very rough year, kids are cruel.
tutored ava for a while in english because it meant some cash on the side, but was about to quit before she died simply because ava was getting better grades and that was really a bitch ass of a situation. her first reaction when she heard of her death was that at least she didn’t have to have an awkward conversation with her about it. . . but then she was a shocked and a little sad, i promise. well, i don’t promise promise but. . .
majors in finance, hates it. she was definitely going for a english major but realistically decided it wasn’t worth putting herself in debt for it ( no offense for any english majors. ) doesn’t actually know what she wants to do with her life after she graduates. she only knows how to be a student, not an actual working woman. 
in summary, arabella elise howard is a broke, over-achieving, cold twenty year old who’s only 5′3 and thinks she can still be intimidating.
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actualyuuri · 7 years
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Dog Catching 101
idk why I wrote this, nobody knows why I wrote this, but here it is
Read more of my fics here!
Length: 4.5k~; Rating: all ages
Summary: When Victor and Yurio find a homeless dog on the street, they decide to take him to an animal shelter. Then, Victor finds an unconventional way to impress the cute employee.
“But look at his eyes.”
Yurio looks into the dog eyes. In fact, he looks into them so long that Victor wonders if they’ve having a silent, exclusive conversation. “Victor, you can’t keep the dog.”
Victor pouts. He’s not sure why he’s listening to the advice of a fifteen-year-old, and the more and more he pets the poodle’s soft fur, the more and more blurry the reasons become. “But he’s so cute.”
“We’ll take him to a shelter,” Yurio suggests. “They’ll find him a nice family.”
They’d already determined that the poodle doesn’t belong to anyone. They’d found him wandering the streets of Hasetsu, fur mangled but his eyes large and brown, friendly. There’s a gnat on his nose. Victor loves him all the same.
“We could be his nice family,” Victor insists. “He could come to competitions with us! Can you imagine?”
Yurio pulls out his phone and types in something.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for the nearest vet. Your lifestyle is too erratic for a dog, you know that. My grandpa would end up having to look after him.”
Victor pats the dog on the head again. It’s probably not a good idea, as he may be carrying diseases, but he could care less right now. And it’s as though the dog is begging for Victor to take him home. “We’ll take him to the vet, then decide.”
“Deal.”
 ~
 The veterinarians clean and cut the dog’s hair, and he looks like a brand new poodle. Victor takes him into his arms and hugs him tight, the dog wagging his tail. “He’s perfect,” he sighs. “Soft and lovely.”
As they sit in the waiting room while the vets perform finishing tests, Yurio lists out the reasons Victor shouldn’t keep the dog. And it’s logical. And objective. And doesn’t take into account the delightful way that the dog raises his ears when he’s happy.
But he concedes.
They walk the dog back to the car, then Yurio uses his phone to guide them to the nearest no-kill animal shelter.
“If they don’t seem nice here, we take the dog home,” Victor reminds Yurio.
Yurio nods. “Got it.”
He pushes open the large doors to the animal shelter. Yes, it’s clean. Yes, there are shelves upon shelves of animal supplies that look acceptable. Maybe, just maybe, this will be okay.
“Hi, welcome to the Yu-topia animal shelter,” a voice rings out.
Victor turns to his left. So does Yurio.
There’s a man standing there, black hair, a smile on his lips, eyes practically attaching to Victor. Victor blinks. “Hello.”
“Hi,” the employee repeats.
“We found a dog,” Yurio announces loudly.
He hurries over and takes the leash out of Victor’s hand, kneeling down and examining the dog. “He’s been to the vet?”
Victor nods. “We took him a minute ago.”
He can’t help but notice that the employee is attractive.
(As in, stunningly attractive.)
(As in, making-Victor’s-knees-weak attractive.)
Especially as he pets the dog, scratching him being the ears and smiling brightly when the dog sits down obediently, tapping his foot. “Who’s a good boy?” the man asks, then glances up at Victor and Yurio. “Thank you for bringing him. We’ll take good care of him here.”
“Can I look around?” Victor asks, still not convinced.
(That’s not necessarily true. He’s pretty sure he could easily be convinced by anything that this man says to him. However, he does want to see the facility, even if it is just to spend more time with the attractive employee. Is that so wrong?)
The man smiles and stands up. “Sure. I’m Yuuri, by the way.”
“Victor,” he says, shaking his hand. He doesn’t let go. Lingers for too long. Yuuri starts blushing, and Victor lets out a breathless laugh, because Yuuri’s blush is possibly cuter than the dog. Which is saying something.
They get a tour from Yuuri and his sister, Mari, who co-runs the shelter. The dog kennels are clean and large, nothing like the horrible kennels that are shown in those sad commercials that Victor always has to turn off. There’s a play area in the back with a few dogs running around, attended by another employee. Yuuri excitedly talks about each and every dog that they pet, telling Victor their name, where they’d been found, what they like.
(Victor listens, captivated.)
“And you founded this place?” he asks when the tour is over and they’re standing in the lobby, Makkachin having been given to Mari for another bath. The vet had already given him one, but Yuuri insists that it’s just policy before he can play with the other dogs.
“Me and my sister, yeah,” Yuuri answers shyly. “We just really like animals.”
Victor isn’t sure that it’s possible for him to get any more adorable. “So do I. We wanted to keep him today, but we’re figure skaters, and we travel a lot.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. You know, if you really wanted him, you could make it work. I’ve had people adopt who are frequent fliers and they manage it. Not that I’m trying to convince you—I’m just talking. We’re happy to take him.”
“Yeah?” Victor asks.
Yuuri nods. “Definitely.”
They stare at each other for a second, and Victor finds himself lost in his eyes, large and sparkling. Then his gaze drifts down to his lips, curved up into a tiny smile, a bit reserved but still genuine, and Victor licks his own unconsciously. Then Yurio yells something from the other side of the room and he snaps out of it.
“I’ve never met a figure skater before,” Yuuri notes. “That must be an exciting life.”
Victor shrugs. “It’s good, if you like traveling.”
They look at each other again, then Yuuri shifts his weight to his left foot. “So how long will you be in town for?”
“Oh, a few weeks. We’re training here before a competition.”
Yuuri bites his lip, nodding.
“Maybe we could come back and visit Makkachin.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Makkachin?”
Victor runs a hand through his hair. “Er, I might’ve named him subconsciously.”
The employee laughs and mimics the action, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “A dog is ten times harder to leave after you’ve named it.”
“Is that so?”
He nods. “I once had a guy come in here and drop off a dog, who he had spent the day with and named, and he came back ten minutes later and adopted him.”
“Wow, that’s some weak willpower. I think mine might be weaker, though.”
Yuuri laughs again and glances back towards the kennels. “Anyway, I’d better go, I’ve got a lot of work to do. It was great to meet you.” He pauses. “And maybe… Maybe you’ll come by again? With your weak willpower?”
“Ten minutes is the time to beat,” Victor jokes, grinning at him.
“I believe in you.”
He points at the clock. “Take note of the time.”
“I will.”
 ~
 “He was gorgeous,” Victor sighs the moment they’re back in the car, because he cannot, under any circumstances, get those brown eyes out of his head. He’s pretty certain if his memory were to be wiped, those eyes would still remain.
He tells Yurio these thoughts, and the blond skater just rolls his eyes. “Why didn’t you ask him for his number then, nitwit?”
Victor doesn’t want to admit that he hadn’t exactly thought of that. He’d been so caught up in his lips, his eyelashes, his smile, that all thoughts of a way to communicate with him in the future had flown out the window. “We could come back to visit Makkachin.”
“You named the dog?”
“Sure.”
Yurio sighs. “I guess you’re keeping him, then. It’s only a matter of time.”
 ~
 They’re at the rink a few days later, practicing, when Victor spots a dog out of the window.
Before Yurio can blink, Victor has darted out of the doors.
“I think he’s lost!” he calls.
Yurio takes off his skates and exits the building clad only in his socks. “Victor, this again?”
“We can’t leave him,” he mutters, looking down at the small white dog.
Yakov glares at both of them through the window.
 ~
 A few hours later, they’re back at the animal shelter.
Sure enough, Yuuri is there.
“You found another dog?” he asks, surprised.
“Ironic, isn’t it? Can I see Makkachin?”
Yuuri takes him to see Makkachin in the play area, and Victor throws a ball around with him for a while. Yuuri sits with him, taking an early break, and laughs at the sight of Victor letting Makkachin lick his face. “Makka, no,” he complains lovingly as the dog sits down on top of him. Victor glances over at Yuuri for sympathy but receives none.
“Looks like you’re stuck,” he points out as he takes another bite of his sandwich.
Victor runs his fingers through Makkachin’s fur. “Not the worst possible spot to be stuck. I would get to spend all day with adorable dogs.”
“A true tragedy,” Yuuri jokes, placing his sandwich down and sitting down beside Victor on the floor, petting Makkachin.
Victor is petting him, too, and their fingers brush.
There’s an electric shock.
Yuuri laughs. “I think his fur is static-y.”
“Guess so. Here, let’s test.”
Victor brushes his fingers against Yuuri’s again, except there’s no shock. Yuuri’s cheeks flush pink, and Victor doesn’t move, chocolate-brown eyes rising to meet his.
(Except Makkachin moves.)
(Victor loves the dog, yes, but in this particular moment he hadn’t been particularly helpful.)
Yuuri laughs as Makkachin chooses to lick his face instead, tackling him with his front two paws. His hands clutch his stomach as he keeps laughing, the dog showering him in love. It’s possibly the sweetest thing Victor has ever seen, and he decides then and there that not only does he want to take Makkachin home, but he wants to take Yuuri home, too.
But then Yuuri’s break ends.
And he’s greeting a couple looking to adopt.
(But he gives a little wave to Victor as he leaves with Yurio.)
(And Victor feels his heart flutter.)
“I think I’m in love,” Victor declares.
Yurio sighs as he sits down in shotgun. “You’re not in love. It has been two days.”
“But he’s perfect.”
“Just drive, Victor. We need to talk about my short program, anyway. We’re both competing soon, remember? Remember that we’re figure skaters?”
 ~
 “I’m going to head out early, Yakov,” Victor announces a few days later, pulling his skates off of his feet.
“Why?”
He doesn’t answer, just puts on his normal sneakers and heads out the doors. “See you tomorrow!”
Victor heads downtown.
(In the back of his mind, he knows what he’s looking for. In the forefront of his mind, however, he insists that he’s just going for a walk.)
He whistles as he walks, glancing down alleys.
His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he pulls it out. “Hello?”
“Victor, did you seriously ditch practice three hours early to look for lost dogs?”
“What?” he asks, feigning surprise. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Victor.”
He remembers the way Yuuri’s face had lit up both times he’d brought a dog to the shelter. Smiles dreamily at the memories. “I’m just going for a walk.”
It takes four hours.
(But he finds a dog.)
She’s cold, and he wraps his coat around her, thanking every deity possible that she’s friendly, too, because if he keeps this up, it won’t be long before he has rabies. He’s on the phone with Yakov as he takes her into his car, because yes, Yakov, this is important, and no, Yakov, I don’t want to jeopardize my career because of a cute animal shelter employee.
It’s late when he arrives at the vet, pays for the services—it’s certainly not inexpensive—and takes the dog to the shelter.
Yuuri doesn’t look happy this time, nor sad, just shocked.
Downright shocked.
“Um, you found a third dog?”
Victor grins as he hands him the leash. “Isn’t she cute?”
It takes Yuuri a moment until it seems to sink in, a smile fluttering on his lips as he looks at Victor and then at the dog. “Yeah, she is. Wow, you must, um, attract dogs.”
“I guess so,” he muses.
Victor spends the rest of the afternoon helping Yuuri and Mari give the dogs dinner.
He sees Makkachin in his kennel, gives him a loving rub. Yuuri lets him take the poodle out into the play area, watching as they get into a heated tug-of-war battle and laughing when Victor loses. “Too strong for you?” he asks.
Victor winks. “I let him win, obviously.”
“Oh, I’m sure you did,” Yuuri teases, voice layered with sarcasm. He sits down beside Victor and Victor hands him one end of the rope, silently daring him to try.
Makkachin is strong.
Perhaps Yuuri hadn’t anticipated that, or perhaps he’d simply thought he was stronger—whatever the reason, Yuuri falls on top of Victor and lets go of the rope. It takes a moment for Victor to realize what had happened, why Yuuri is currently laying in his lap, but as soon as he realizes what had happened he’s laughing, clutching at his ribs with one hands.
Yuuri pokes him in the chest. “Not funny.”
“Completely funny,” Victor insists.
They end up playing tug-of-war with each other, Makkachin barking at them, as though confused as to why he hadn’t been invited. Victor puts up a good fight, but Yuuri pulls away, victorious. “Not very strong arms for a competitive athlete, huh?”
“Strong legs,” he points out.
“Oh, I bet.”
He grins as Makkachin sits down on top of him. Mari comes over to them, glances between them. “Yuuri, we’re about to close up.”
Yuuri licks his lips and looks back at Victor. “Thanks for bringing another dog today. She’ll find a good home, too—I promise.”
Victor nods, trusting him.
“We’re actually… There’s going to be an adoption event two Saturdays from now, in the morning. I don’t know if… You’re probably busy…”
“I can go,” Victor says.
It’s not true. He performs his short program Saturday afternoon. But, well, he could afford to stop by for a few hours in the morning, couldn’t he? Sure, Yakov will murder him, but isn’t it worth it?
Yuuri smiles brightly.
(It’s worth it, he decides.)
(Everything is worth it. He would gladly miss the entire competition if it meant seeing that smile again.)
“Okay, I’ll see you then?” Yuuri asks.
Victor nods enthusiastically. “See you then. If not before.”
 ~
 “Please tell me you’re not going dog hunting today,” Yurio sighs.
Victor has to admit that as he drives them to the rink, his eyes do wander aimlessly along the edges of the road and he’s constantly readjusting the car’s trajectory. It’s day, though, and the sidewalks are filled, so surely he won’t find a dog. Which is both good and bad, because of course a dog being homeless is a tragedy, but also not being with Katsuki Yuuri is a tragedy.
“There’s an adoption event the Saturday after next,” Victor says.
Yurio glares at him. Victor doesn’t look at him while driving, but he can feel it. “You can’t go, obviously.”
“I’m going.”
“That’s the day of the competition. You’re kidding, right?”
Victor frowns. “I have free will, I can do what I like.”
“Yakov will have your head,” Yurio reminds him. Then he sighs. “But do what you like, I guess. Just know that you’re insane.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
 ~
 There are no dogs for the next few days.
But Saturday, one week before the adoption event, Yakov is focusing most of his attention on Yurio’s long program and getting a few last-minute kinks out, and Victor wants a walk.
So he goes for a walk.
First, he finds a black-haired dog of an unknown breed in a park. Turns out that the dog’s owner is sitting on a nearby bench, and said owner stares at Victor with suspicious, narrowed eyes. Victor hurries away before she arrests him for trying to kidnap her dog.
Then, though, he finds a blond dog on his way back to the rink. Wonders about Hasetsu’s animal control department, or lack thereof. He heads to the vet, then to the shelter, and these last few days are really taking a toll on his bank account but he’s surprised by how little he cares.
“You’re kidding,” Yuuri says when he enters.
Victor grins at him, loving the way a smile spreads across Yuuri’s features, too, as though he can’t help it. “I think dogs like me,” he says, considering staying in Hasetsu and doing this for the rest of his life if it makes Yuuri happy.
“Are you sure you’re not, like, skipping your figure skating practices and going on crazy dog hunts instead?”
He freezes in place.
(Then Yuuri starts laughing.)
(Then Yuuri realizes that he’s not laughing.)
“You’re not… You’re not actually doing that, are you?”
“No, no, of course not,” Victor insists. “We just, um, drive around a lot. Hasetsu has a real homeless dog problem.”
~
He follows Yuuri around while he works, help out where he can. Yuuri doesn’t seem to be annoyed, which he’s thankful for. At some point, he can’t reach something up on a tall shelf, and Victor volunteers, getting on his tippy toes and reaching for the roll of paper towels before an impromptu teasing session begins. Yuuri rolls his eyes and shoves him in the chest, making Victor shove him back.
It turns out Yuuri is ticklish.
(Very ticklish.)
“Stop, stop,” he’s begging as Victor touches his ribs, getting revenge. Yuuri shoves him off eventually and then takes the roll of paper towels and whacks him on the head with it again and again. Victor can’t stop laughing, either, eyes watering as Yuuri uselessly hits him.
Then someone clears their throat.
“Oh, hi Mari. We were just about to go clean the baths,” Yuuri squeaks.
Mari looks unimpressed.
Victor catches his breath before sitting up. Mari leaves, and Yuuri looks horrified, ears tinted red. Victor smiles softly at him, and Yuuri relaxes a bit, laughing again. “I won, by the way.”
Victor shakes his head adamantly. “Absolutely not.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
“Did too. And you’re helping me clean the baths,” he claims, grabbing a spray bottle and handing it to Victor.
“Did not. And only if you admit that I won.”
“Let’s agree to disagree.”
“Deal.”
 ~
 “I can’t help but feel like you’re distracted,” Yakov says.
“No clue what you’re talking about,” Victor responds as he presses down on the ice with his toe pick. “I am completely, one-hundred percent focused.”
(He wonders if Yuuri’s favorite color is blue. He certainly wears a lot of blue, and most of the dogs there have blue collars, so it would make sense. His favorite food is katsudon, Victor had already learned that. But what about his favorite animal? Oh, right—dogs, probably. That would also make sense.)
“Vitya.”
He blinks. “Yes?”
“Did you hear what I just said?”
Victor purses his lips, shakes his head.
Yakov pinches the bridge of his nose. “If you’re not focused, you’re not going to win this season. Do you really want to give up your sixth consecutive win at the Grand Prix Final because you can’t succeed at a qualifying competition?”
“By the way, I won’t be able to practice Saturday morning.”
(Judging by the look on Yakov’s face, Victor figures this probably wasn’t the best time to tell him that.)
He gets scolded in Russian for the next hour, then is told to run five laps around the outer edge of the rink. Yurio smirks, amused, as he eats a nutrition bar. “Just remember, you’re running for Yuuri,” he teases.
 ~
 A few days later, he finds another dog.
Then another on Thursday.
Friday, one more.
It takes longer and longer each time, but he’s also more determined each time, because Yuuri looks more and more impressed, even squeezing his forearm at one point and grinning at him, eyes sparkling. Victor captures the memory, loves it, wants to feel that feeling again and again and again.
(So he keeps looking. And looking.)
It’s a little ridiculous, yes.
Yurio calls it “extra.”
(Victor still isn’t sure what that term means.)
 ~
 Saturday, the day of the competition, Yakov insists that he stays.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he makes his way to the park the near the animal shelter, and he has to leave Hasetsu in two days, and the very thought is already breaking him.
There are short fences set up with dogs inside, barking and wagging their tails at anyone who walks past. Yuuri, Mari, and several other employees have clipboards in their hands, and there are tiny signs near each dog providing details about them. The moment Yuuri catches sight of Victor, he runs up and hugs him.
Victor didn’t know what happiness was until he’d had a hug from Katsuki Yuuri.
Because he’s warm, inviting—ducks his nose into Victor’s shoulder in the most adorable way possible, and his voice is muffled as he thanks him for coming. Victor shuts his eyes, too, not wanting to let go, taking in the scent of his cologne and blue button-up shirt. Blue. His favorite color must be blue.
“Of course I came,” he assures him. “I can’t stay too long, though. I’m competing this afternoon.”
Yuuri blinks. “Your competition is today?”
“Mhmm.” He looks over at Makkachin’s pen and sees the dog staring at him expectantly. Victor makes his way over to pet him.
“And… And you’re here? Isn’t that, um… I mean, I don’t know much about figure skating, but…?”
Victor shrugs. “It’s fine. Just a qualifying competition. And I’ll qualify.”
Yuuri smiles. “Cocky, are we?”
“Very much so.”
He laughs and places a hand on the edge of Makkachin’s pen. “Somebody might adopt him today. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
It’s a whimsical decision.
“I’ll take him,” Victor decides.
Even Yuuri looks surprised. “Really? Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
~
He watches as Yuuri talks enthusiastically about each dog, customer after customer walking away with a newly adopted pet. At some point, Mari hands Victor a clipboard and tells him to do something useful instead of just drooling over Yuuri, so he begins to help out, too.
Then his phone rings.
“Hello?”
“Victor, get the hell over here right now.”
Victor hangs up, bites his lip. Yuuri has a free moment, is drinking from a bottle of water. “Can I talk to you?” he asks.
Yuuri nods. “Sure, what’s going on?”
He cups Yuuri’s cheek with his hand, his thumb brushes against his temple.
Brown eyes look up at him through dark lashes, pink lips parting. Victor brushes some of his hair back for him, offering a small smile. Yuuri smiles back, blushing, and licks his lips absent-mindedly. Victor does, too.
He leans forward and kisses Yuuri on the cheek. His skin is soft, warm.
The moment he pulls away, though, Yuuri reaches up on his tippy-toes and kisses Victor on the lips instead. And it’s chaste, swift, but Victor feels his heart skip a beat, feels himself sinking into the grass. “You… You just…” he starts, wide-eyed.
A hand flies up to cover Yuuri’s mouth. “Sorry. I thought you… I thought… I just wanted to say thank you. For coming, I mean. It means a lot to me. Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s okay, I’m just surprised,” Victor blurts.
His weight shifts from one foot to the other. “Um, good luck at your competition.”
“Thanks. Good luck with this.”
There’s a pause.
Victor stares at his lips.
Wonders how much warmer they’d be if the kiss lasted longer than a second. Wonders how much softer his hair would feel if he’d kept his fingers in it, weaved them through the strands.
“Wait here,” Yuuri says suddenly.
Victor does.
(Isn’t sure he could move if he wanted to.)
He watches as Yuuri says something quick to Mari. She hesitates, then nods, and then Yuuri is holding his hand.
(Yuuri is holding his hand.)
“I’m going to come to your competition,” he promises. “You can come get Makkachin afterwards, Mari won’t let anybody else adopt him.”
“You’re sure it’s okay?” Victor asks.
“Yeah, she said so.”
 ~
 Victor is in first after his short program. Yuuri is grinning brightly at him, and he takes him into his arms, twirling him around. “What’d you think?” he asks.
Yuuri laughs. “I had no idea what was happening, honestly, but it looked really good.”
“It looked really good, or I looked really good?” Victor teases.
He shoves him in the chest again, and Victor shoves him back, then wraps his arms around him, holding him closer. Yuuri chuckles. “You’re sort of giving me mixed signals.”
“Would you visit me in Russia sometime?” Victor asks.
They’ve only known each other for a few weeks.
It’s insane.
He knows it’s insane.
Yuuri knows it’s insane.
“Would you visit me in Japan?” Yuuri responds, toying with the sleeve of his costume.
He nods. “When I can.”
“Then I’ll visit you when I can,” he decides. “But until then, you’ll have Makkachin to remember me by.”
“Visit quickly, for Makkachin’s sake,” Victor mumbles, kissing him on the cheek again. “Wouldn’t want him to be upset from missing you, now would we?”
“Not at all,” Yuuri teases back. “Take good care of him?”
“Of course I will. And I’ll be on the lookout for any stray dogs.”
Yuuri bites his lip. “You know where to take them.”
“Mm. All the way back to Hasetsu. No other animal shelter will do.”
“Why’s that?”
Victor kisses his forehead. “No cute employees in Russian animal shelters.”
“I didn’t know you liked my sister so much.”
Victor makes a face. Yuuri laughs and hugs him again.
 ~
 A few days later, he says a final goodbye to Yuuri.
Then, a few months later, he happens to be back in Japan. Tokyo, yes, but it’s close enough, so he takes the time to visit Hasetsu. He puts on a baseball cap and heads into the animal shelter, glancing around.
“Hi, welcome to the Yu-top—wait.”
Victor takes off the hat and grins.
Yuuri leaps into his arms.
He hugs him tight. “Missed you. Makkachin is in the car, I didn’t want to give away the surprise.”
Yuuri practically sprints out of the shelter.
He opens the car door and laughs as Makkachin knocks him over onto the grass, peppering his cheeks with kisses. “Makka, I missed you!” he exclaims. “How long are you in town for?”
“A few more weeks,” Victor promises.
Yuuri stands up and cups both of his cheeks, kissing him firmly, longer than before. Victor melts into it, eyes falling shut and body moving unconsciously closer to him, chests pressed against each other. One of his hands moves to Yuuri’s hair, fingers carding through the strands, and Yuuri sighs underneath him. “I’ve been thinking about that.”
Victor keeps their foreheads pressed together, breaths coming quick. “So have I.”
“Want to go meet the new dogs?” Yuuri asks.
(That phrase is possibly the most seductive one Victor has ever heard.)
“Of course.”
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