appearance:2008

do you ever think about how vast the oceans are and the fact that weve only studied maybe 5% of them and how much stuff weve already discovered vs how much is left to discover and the fact that 95% is a lot of space and there could be things that are very very big and very very horrifying lurking in the depths like

anonymous asked:

Hi, can you do #47 dogs don't wear clothes

“Uh,” Aaron says, pushing the door closed with his foot. “What is she wearing?”

Robert’s currently knelt in the living room, tying a bandana around Nymeria’s neck. She’s incredibely patient, but then she has to be, living in a house where kids come through on a regular basis. Besides, despite belonging to Liv and Aaron, she’s always trailing after Robert when he lets her.

“Isn’t it cool?” Robert says, grinning.

Aaron’s ashamed to say he recognises the crest on the bandana. He sighs, tossing his keys on the sideboard and bending to untie his boots. “Rob, I say this with love, but no, cool is not what I would call it.”

There’s a look of outrage and irritation on Robert’s face, but then he wraps an arm around Nymeria’s neck and pouts. “Really?”

Nymeria’s giving Aaron a look that’s too much to pass up. His phone still in his hand, he unlocks it and quickly snaps a picture, Robert’s outraged shout startling Nymeria. She moves away, padding through the kitchen to the open back door.

“Dogs don’t wear clothes,” Aaron says, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

“It’s not clothes,” Robert points out, pushing himself to his feet and looking after Nymeria. Aaron almost wants to take another picture of that fond expression, one Robert always claims isn’t there whenever he looks at their dog. “More an accessory.”

Aaron raises his eyebrows and slides an arm around Robert’s hip, tugs him forward. “I thought you were done buying gifts for my ridiculous dog?”

Robert makes a face and shrugs, though there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “Our ridiculous dog?”

“Oh?” Aaron presses a small kiss to his mouth, jerks his head towards the back door. “Our dog who wears your favourite show accessories?”

“Hey,” Robert says, affecting another, less effective pout. “She’s named after a Stark! It’s her favourite show.”

Aaron makes a face, then laughs. “Pretty sure she only sticks around when you and Liv are watching for the snacks you sneak her.”

“What snacks?” Robert says, innocent expression in place that Aaron doesn’t believe for a second.

“Uh-huh,” Aaron says, tugging Robert back in for a kiss, sliding a hand into Robert’s hair. It deepens, Robert’s tongue sliding against his teeth, his tongue -

-when they’re promptly interrupted by a black streak shooting between them and the scattering of legs in the kitchen as Nymeria comes running in after.

“Dixie!” Robert yells, as his mess of a cat slams into the table under the window and knocks a vase to the floor.

“Nymeria!” Aaron snaps, grabbing hold of Nymeria’s new scarf.

Their eyes meet, one holding a hissing bundle of black fur, the other straining to keep hold of a massive dog, and can’t help but smile; it might be a mess half of the time, but definitely not something they’d ever give up.