#a really high quality dog leash (one of the ones that you can go hands free but can hold weight)

[polycatyl]

using my minor tiktok fame into getting free shit

[midnightstar-kpopsmut]

Chapter II, The Electric Sheep

- I should probably start by telling you who this guy is.” Said Jimmy. - His name is Cheongtae, and he is Korean. Handsome, like you, discrete, he owns a high quality hair saloon here in Gangnam.”

- Is Cheongtae your...” started the American.

- You want to ask if he is my friend, how do I know him, why did he told me all of this.” Jimmy was impatient. - But believe me, our relationship doesn’t really matter now. I trust him enough to know that the story is true in every detail. Let me tell it to you exactly how I’ve heard it from him. I will use English, since you don’t know Korean. Some nuances could be lost, please forgive me for my simple language.

This is how, according to Jimmy, Cheongtae recounted his pleasurable encounter with Karina to him.

- I was already a bit stressed when riding in her elevator. You know where she lives now, she moved in those apartments on the north river side, with the private park at the center of the towers... Her manager had texted me a couple of hours before. It was urgent, he said. Karina was supposed to make a comeback in three weeks. We already had multiple sessions scheduled at the saloon, for her and the other members. But they needed me to come at her place, right now, for a quick check-up.

Karina has a big mouth. She is not vulgar or anything, just a bit exigent. She knows what she wants. When I worked for her she kept pestering me endlessly, talking about how she had this idea for a detail of the hair style while on vacation, how she wasn’t sure if it was something I was used to do... All while I waited with scissors in hand. Once I started cutting she calmed down. She reminded me of one of those dogs that bark and fight until you finally put them on a leash. Then they behave.

That’s why I was a bit stressed on the elevator. Hair is serious in Kpop. It’s part of the reason why I like to work for idols. But if they needed me to go directly to her place it meant that the stakes were even higher. I was expecting a big meeting of some sort, probably requested by Karina herself. When I finally put my foot into the entrance I was surprised. I couldn’t hear anyone, just the calm sound of the end of an afternoon. Karina was alone.

She greets me firmly. - Oppa, finally. Come in. You really like to make women wait.” Oppa? I think. She knows I am married. Damn she is annoying. - Palli palli (- It means fast in Korean, added Jimmy: - Please learn this.), why are you moving in slow motion?” She wants to chit chat. And I am already out of it. Still, for the sake of business, I try to get into her mood: - You surely seem ready to go to a party.” She doesn’t like it. - A party? Dressed like this?” I look at her clothes, a pair of the most fluffy cargo pants, gray, and an expensive crop top, black. Nothing on her feet. She keeps going: - Please, please, please. Don’t stand there! I told you to come in.” I advance in the living room. I had never seen Karina outside of my shop, but still I had knew her for some time, I had no much interest. My focus shifted naturally on the style of the space. The living room is the only thing you can see when entering, you discover it in one striking blow. There are two, huge, sofas, that almost form a U shape. Light blue as the main color, very modern style. The floor takes a downward step to get to the sofas, it’s sophisticated. After this area you get to the windows, then a veranda. You could say that interior design is one my passions, but I see you don’t care so let’s keep going.

- Do you... like it?” Asks me Karina. - Sure, I like it. It’s good quality.” I don’t get to the veranda. I stop at the couches and turn to myself, an equally impressive open kitchen stands behind, hidden from the entrance. All the other rooms are out of sight, you get to them through corridors. By looking around I finally realize that something is missing. I can’t see Karina’s manager anywhere. I was already surprised of not seeing the whole team here, but the manager, I thought, was a given, since he was the one who wrote to me. - Where is your manager?” I ask.

- Oh, him. My manager...” Her tone floats. Her head is all over the place, I think. - He is not here.

- But how... I mean, he wrote to me, I thought it would be here. But he doesn’t have to, now that I think of it.

- Actually “I” wrote to you. I met him this morning, to discuss things, he forgot his phone here. It’s his working phone. I am going to give it back to him tomorrow.

- You wrote like if it was him. And you have my number. Why didn’t you write to me from your phone?

- I don’t know! How can I know? Maybe I thought it was more professional. Why are you asking me all these questions?! Can’t you see I am stressed already? If I manage to piss off Karina, I am cooked. - I am sorry.” I say. - It’s ok” she answers. - But really, you haven’t seen me in a while. Look at me. Can’t you see that I am stressed?” I look at her. She looks electric. It’s also because of the look. The crop top has that kind of fluffy texture that could come directly from the body of an electrical galactic sheep. I kind of like it, it is hot. Good choice on her. Not that I would expect any less, from one of the constantly ranking top 5 idols in popularity.

- What are you looking at?” She asks. - Your crop top. - Anything else?” And then I notice it. I could have done sooner, but I didn’t. Her breast had taken some sizes. Only her breast, not the rest of her body or her face. Two sizes, at least.

I nod to myself. What a reaction to have. Anyway.

- Exactly. That’s why I am stressed. Sit with me. I really need you today.

[11rosebunny]

Bofurin x shishitoren guys with a forward reader? Like, a girl that makes the first move and stuff, likes to gift them with food and bouquets (men deserve flowers too!!!!), loves spoiling them… the works!

Character with a direct!reader (BOFURIN + SHISHITOREN)

Haruka Sakura

He really wants to beat the shit out of you. Normally speaking, you two are still generally friends that get along very nicely with each other and when you two decided to make it official, sometimes he regrets dating his best friend.

The overdoing of flowers, new white shirts (even though he has 5 of the same pair), hair products, anything like that, it makes him forget how much of a sweetheart he knew you as when he first started talking to you. He's not saying he's forgotten about your bubbly personality, but when you greeted him out in public with a loving kiss on his cheek, he stared back at his friends as if they just shot him.

Nirei and Tsugeura were the first ones to break the silence and yell out loud in utter shock when they saw Sakura's girlfriend for the first time. The white and black-haired boy didn't bother to tell anyone about your existence—let alone his love life. What made is worse was that many assumed he's never experienced any love due to how anxious and shy he gets whenever romance is brought up. All of their assumptions immediately disappeared when they watched you start talking to Sakura and asking if he ate.

"Maybe she's the reason why he's so shy?" Suo blinked at you from afar when Sakura had dragged you away and began to yell at you to not do that again.

"Y-you think?" Nirei watched you reply back in a lucky-go manner not understanding what you did wrong. All you did was greet your boyfriend.

Hajime Umemiya

Meeting you years ago and making it official, he didn't expect any less from you.

He's grown accustomed to they way your personality is like. The first time he met you, he was shocked to see a girl come around him at an easygoing pace and soon learned about the different qualities of your person.

Bubbly, buoyant, lively, and cheeky. It wasn't until you two started dating, then he noticed how much farther your personality runs. Toma has witnessed it all, you've come to school with gardening seeds for him, bought random t-shirts with idiotic designs which he happily took, wanting to hold hands all the time even in public, and even trying to pay for your own meal while being on a date with him. He was surprised you were still able to keep up your animated behaviour and it may have even worsened when you became his girlfriend.

It's now a running competition to him. When he realized you were the first one to make a move and nearly one upped him on every single gift he's ever given you, he's not going to lie—he started to get annoyed. So in return, he now sees it at how much better you can treat one another.

Toma Hiragi

It's like having another Umemiya to look after but instead it's a girl that's not afraid to show affection and that likes him.

Some have a hard time trying to process how you even managed to get ahold of the scary guard dog looking boy on a leash. Based on how all over the place you are, forward with compliments and romance, some wonder how he's still alive.

At first, you were just another person he treasured right next to his guy best friend. He's known you since middle school and you two ended up growing beside each other. But during in his High school era, that's when he grew feelings for you and is also when he thought it was the biggest mistake in his life to fall for someone like you.

Right off the bat, the way you'd wrap your arms around him, hold him close, and steal his very first kiss, he wants to shrink you into a ball of cheese and squeeze you to death. Luckily, he's very good at hiding his shyness whenever you make him blush. It's even worse if you kiss him out in public otherwise he might grab your head and shove you into the closest tree.

As much as it may seem like he despises you and acts like he doesn't like it, there would be nothing in this world he'd replace you with.

Taiga Tsugeura

It's really not bad. He doesn't get as shy or nervous, instead he actually much enjoys it because of how you're able to match himself.

He didn't think he was able to find someone that is equally as chaotic as him. He ended up confessing first by saying how much he loved the way you were disarranged (you don't know if that was a compliment or not?) and the way you made him feel. Doing so, the two of decided to date.

He wasn't even concerned with the way you kept showering him with affection, kisses, gifts like protein powder, new elastic headbands, and sandals until Kiryu had pointed it out how it seems like he's the girl in the relationship (he was joking).

He questioned what he meant and the boy explained that normally it's supposed to be the guy doing that. He blinked and thought about it for a few hours. Eventually, the next day he showed up to your house with a basket full of your favourite snacks, figurines, plushies, and gift cards.

You gave him his first kiss that day.

Mitsuki Kiryu

Weirdly, he doesn't really like those eccentric girls.

The way you two met was an accident. At first he found you very annoying but he never had the heart to tell you that, so instead he just lets you swarm around him hoping you'd go away one day.

Turns out you didn't and now he found himself dating the girl he didn't even want to like in the first place.

He's okay with you now, instead of getting annoyed he finds it funny with the way you conjure up gifts right out of you ass in the middle of no where. You two could be out walking in public and you could somehow pull out a keychain from one of his favourite mobile games and he's wondering what else can fit in that tiny pocket of yours.

He really enjoys it when you hold his hand in public, kiss him even, and shower him with love. It's very rare he gets shy and so normally, it looks like he appreciates it with the way you act.

Hayato Suo

He's the type of person to love these types of girls.

He really finds the way how kind you are and buoyant to be extremely adorable. He has a soft spot for things he finds cute, (he even said he finds it cute when children throw tantrums!) so it wasn't a surprise that he's thought about dating you more than once.

Eventually, he does.

He underestimated you a bit too much when he started to take note of how often you weren't afraid to show affection.

The scale: way too many times than he can count.

He loves to see how you will pull up your next move on him either it being compliments, gifts, or acts of service. He calculates this habit of yours purely because he wants to give back the same amount of affection at the same time.

It always freaks you out whenever you thought you did him better only for him to pull out something similar like already pre-paying for your lunch together.

Jo Togame

He finds it funny. Upon meeting each other for the first time, he genuinely thought you were stupid for trying to help a person like him. That was until he realized you weren't joking and you weren't afraid of his persona.

It made him eat his words and never wants to think that lowly of you again. But, he never tells you that.

He kept you around purely for his entertainment, until he accidentally found himself growing feelings that were a little too real. Even when you two got together for the first time, it sounded like you didn't have a choice to begin with regardless.

"Who said you could hangout with them?"

"What is this? Are we in a relationship now?"

"Yes. Now answer my question woman."

That was the first time he took you aback and the first time he's ever seen you act differently from your usual personality. Afterwards, you two continued like how you usually were plus more intimate activities.

It took him by surprise in a way that he's shocked that you're not shy around him. He digs the way you hold his hand, give him massages, play with his hair, and kiss him on his cheeks on a daily basis. He finds it cute with the way you're not afraid to do those things with him, even makes him feel more manlier.

Tomiyama Choji

He was surprised when he first came to acknowledge your weird behaviour. Normally speaking, he's the most eccentric person anyone has ever met. So when he finds someone that one ups him in those aspects, he's confused.

At first, he's almost a whole different person when he hangs out with you for the first few days. He's trying to understand how you can be so care free while remaining happy even when you have everything you need.

He thinks he hates you for the first few days till he starts to warm up around you.

Once you started dating, even with your loudness, you still managed to stop him from possibly burning down a car.

He knew that you were bubbly and cheeky as soon as he met you, so the kisses and constant hugs didn't really catch him off guard. However, when he realized it was becoming a daily thing, a tiny part of him began to panic because now you made it seem like he wasn't putting in any effort.

In return, he'll show you as much physical contact as he can.

[glowingbadger]

Request for SFW and nsfw modern au Sylvain and Hilda with a (gn or female) s/o? Ty!

((I also got another ask for Sylvain and Ashe, so I'll just add Ashe here and knock them all out at once lol))

Sylvain, Hilda, Ashe x GN Reader

modern AU headcanons

SFW (nsfw below the cut)

Sylvain:

- Sylvain loves all of the wonderful little trappings of being your boyfriend. He was the campus fuckboy for so long, and he knows that his reputation precedes him- so having earned enough of your trust that you'd give him the chance to prove himself means everything to him. As such, he's very dedicated to sweet little gestures each and every day to reaffirm that he's yours. I've mentioned before, but he's likely to send you a "good morning <3" text each morning and send you cute animal pics when you're sad.

- He adores sharing clothes with you- even if your body type doesn't allow you to wear a shirt of his, he'll lend you a scarf, sunglasses, any kind of accessory. Sylvain just loves the visual symbol of your connection, the idea that you could share absolutely everything. And again, it's very "couple-y," which he loves, since he hasn't really done the whole "serious relationship" thing very much before you.

- As I've mentioned in prior modern hcs for him though- it's definitely not uncommon to run into an ex of his while out and about. They'll either be satisfied with throwing dirty glances his way, or they may be amicable enough to say hello and chat a bit. Even then, you're likely to get a laugh and an eye roll and a side comment that, "Oh yeah, you better keep this guy on a short leash or you never know what he'll get up to." Sylvain definitely feels pretty sheepish after these encounters, apologizing that you have to deal with all of this, but acknowledging that it's his own fault. These kinds of incidents are likely why he doesn't like to talk about his past flings or relationships with you unless you really press him.

Hilda:

- Hilda is just so much fun to be with. She always knows how to help you relax- perhaps even a little too much at times. She knows the best spots to lay out a blanket for a nap or a snack on campus, and all kinds of great local places to shop. If you're the type to enjoy some, er, plant life, if you catch my meaning, she's always got a great movie or album to enjoy during a smoke sesh. That said, she's also super-low pressure about what you choose to partake in with her. She figures that relationships are supposed to be fun, so there's no point in sweating the small stuff.

- She loves to take you shopping and dress you up. Hilda has a savvy sense of style that blends classic pieces with modern trends (and she's scary good at knowing which trends will pass and which will stick around longer), so she'll take any chance she can get to pick out a cute ensemble for you.

- It can be hard to nail down her more serious feelings and perspectives on things, including your relationship. In a strange way, being with her is so relaxing and enjoyable that it sometimes feels like she's just goofing off and isn't genuinely committed to you. If you bring this up to her, she's surprisingly level headed about quietly sitting and listening. Then, she leans close to you and rubs her nose against yours and says, "Of course I love you, silly! I wouldn't bother being with you if I didn't."

Ashe:

- Your friends and family absolutely love Ashe when they get to meet him, and they probably started rooting for you two to get together long before he actually got up the courage to ask you out. You'll be study buddies and probably in a couple extra-curriculars for a looong while before the mutual attraction becomes too conspicuous and frankly too awkward to ignore. Once you start dating though, he's super sweet and attentive, always checking in with you after a big test or when you've been out late to make sure you're alright.

- When he messages you, he takes his time considering how he wants to word things, and he's more the type to send you one solid paragraph, rather than several shorter messages. He also likes to send you photos throughout his day when he passes a beautiful or interesting flower, or meets a dog out on a walk or some such thing. Sometimes, if you've been too busy to see each other or one of you is traveling, he'll shyly ask for you to send him a selfie, and when he sees you, he just sits in his bed staring at you with a huge smile on his face, his heart absolutely fluttering with how lucky he feels to have you in his life.

- He'll lend you books with the margins just full of notes, with passages that he thought were interesting highlighted, and little doodled hearts around sections that made him think of you. He could spend hours trading ideas and headcanons with you about your mutual favorites, and he even enjoys when your ideas are different or even contrary to his. He finds having someone to bounce ideas off of like this just helps him appreciate the depth and nuance of a story that much more.

NSFW 18+ v

Sylvain:

- He's always got a condom and/or lube on hand, more or less ready to go at any moment. He's very obvious about how completely into you he is, casually grabbing a hand full of your ass around your dorm/apartment, blatantly eyeing you up and down when you wear something new around him, and so on. He's also not shy with others about your shared intimacy- if you don't tell him not to, he'll brag openly to his friends about how insanely hot you are, how amazing the sex is, in whatever amount of detail they can tolerate.

- Sylvain loves when you come up with something you'd like to try in bed, whether it's a toy of some kind, a kink, an outfit. In fact, skimpy outfits drive him near feral with lust- especially if it was your idea. The mere thought that you went out of your way to find and purchase a sexy little maid costume or something similar to wear just for him is incredibly hot to him, and he can't wait to show his appreciation for the gesture.

Hilda:

- Hilda very much enjoys mid-day sex followed by a nap, or slow, relaxing and intimate sex right before bed for the night. Basically, she likes to be able to curl up with you and drift off once you've both been thoroughly satisfied. She's also very comfortable lounging around in just one of your shirts and panties, even if you have roommates around. It's mostly a matter of feeling cozy and relaxed with you, but she also certainly doesn't mind that it gives you the chance to ogle her body as well.

- She absolutely knows how to dress to compliment her beautiful figure- bras with just enough extra support to make her breasts look wonderfully full and plump, shoes with just enough of a heel to lengthen the line of her legs and her give her hips that pleasant sway as she walks. If Hilda is aiming to get your attention, she will get it. She always appreciates when you notice a new look or piece of clothing she's trying out, but she likes it even more when you can't keep your eyes or hands off of her as a result. Partially-clothed sex is always a popular choice with Hilda, as it shows that she's successfully provoked you into wanting to spoil and pleasure her immediately.

Ashe:

- He definitely wants your first time together to be special. He's just so overwhelmed by how strongly he feels about you, how his heart pounds at your touch, how kissing you feels like flying. It may seem like an old fashioned impulse, but he'll want to wait a little while into the relationship before "going all the way," and when he does initiate sex, it's likely to be at the end of a long and lovely date night. A play, a pleasant walk through a tucked away little garden nearby, and a high-quality but not obnoxiously extravagant dinner, then he takes you back to his room and kisses you slow and deep, then says, "I'd... I'd like to be with you tonight- for real- if, uh, that's okay with you..."

- Ashe is the kind of guy who really savors a range of different sensations. He won't hesitate to go down on you before seeking out his own gratification- hell, the feeling of your nails through his hair as you arch up from his bed is satisfying enough for him for the time being. He checks in with you frequently the first few times you're together, always assuring you that he's here for you, that he adores you, that he only wants to make you happy.

- He's pretty demure about discussing his sex life, blushing madly if his more outgoing friends prod him for details (has he finally "sealed the deal" with you?? How'd he land such a cutie??). He's not likely to sext or ever ask for lewd pictures, but if you send him one that's even slightly suggestive, he'll blush madly and reply with what's practically a rant about how gorgeous you are.

[joshslater]

Breeder

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon. (Repost without the photo from another tumblr post)

I can’t remember the last time I came that much. Pump after pump of cum up his ass, and as I pulled out, one final squirt between his butt cheeks just to make more of an impression. I looked at his tight, pink T-shirt, his tight, leaking asshole, his smooth, slim legs, and his white calf-high Nike socks. “Fuck, I needed this so badly,” I exhaled and threw myself down on the bed next to him. It was my fault he was almost fully dressed, just barely out of his shorts. When we entered his apartment my juices were almost spilling over. We just kicked off our shoes and I started to grope him while we quickly moved to his bedroom. It had been such a stressful couple of weeks with tons of extra hours. Every day I felt drained of all energy the moment I stepped back into my apartment and hadn’t even had the energy to masturbate since… I don’t even remember. A month? More?

“I could tell,” he said, turning his head sideways looking at me. He was cute, even now that post ejaculation clarity had set in. My eyes had landed on him almost immediately once inside the bar. The radiant blue adidas baseball cap that we wore backward on top of his dirty blonde, shaggy hair and boyish face pulled me in. He was thin, so for him to have such tight clothes he probably shopped in the kids’ section. Just what I was looking for. A tiny twink I could just manhandle and drive hard. Kind of made me feel bad now for how one-sided that fuck must have been.

“I’m… It’s just with everything I haven’t been around much lately.” “Hey, don’t worry about it. We got plenty of time, if you want.”

He was still wearing the backward baseball cap as he lied on his front, looking at me with intense eyes. He wasn’t cute. He was gorgeous. Had I spent more time looking at his face than his butt walking to his place and his back being here I would have noticed earlier, but my dick had made all the decisions up until now. God, he must still be leaking cum into his bed given the size of the load I dumped in him. I wanted to tell him, to help him clean up.

He was biting his lip, still piercing me with his look. “Have you ever played puppy?” That came as a surprise. I’ve never understood that kink, and not just because I always top. I know some tops enjoy barking orders to a pup, or even dress up as an alpha dog, but it’s never been a thing I’ve understood nor at all considered.

“Can’t say that I have.” “Wanna try?”

He propped himself up on his arms, knuckles under his chin, elbows into the mattress. He was back to looking sweet and cute. I felt like I kind of owed him, but it’s not like I was doing him a favor either. Worst case it was nothing interesting and I could check another thing off the list.

“Sure, why not.” “Yass. I’ll get the things.”

He jumped out of bed and hurried out of the bedroom. If it wasn’t for the age check at the bar I wouldn’t have guessed him to be over 17. I assume he has a lot of creams in his bathroom and a strict diet. But then I would never miss a day at the gym. Different things are important to different people. “Take off your clothes” he shouts from another room somewhere. I slowly got up, and couldn’t help to look at the wet spot on the bed sheet where his ass had been.

I took off my jeans, my socks, my watch, and my shirt. I was just about to step out of my jockstrap when came back into the bedroom. “Keep that on for now.” I did as he said. This was his scene to direct. “Put these on.” He handed me a pair of leather wrist cuffs. Up until now it wasn’t clear who would play what role, though I had kind of assumed I would play the dog. Was I the dog? Would he also be a dog? I was kind of liking the uncertainty. The leather cuffs were high quality, and about as easy to secure as you could hope for when doing it on yourself. “And these,” he said as he gave me a pair of thigh straps, also leather. They were easy to secure, though I had no idea where this was going. He was rummaging in one of the drawers for something, and finally found a bottle of what I assumed to be lube. He proceeded to squeeze out a generous amount on the butt plug part of a tail plug. I’ve never seen one in person before. The plug part wasn’t that big, but the tail was huge.

“Now, get on all four.” I dropped down onto the floor. I was actually a bit anxious about this. I’m not an anal virgin, but I haven’t done a lot. I don’t even own a dildo myself. He walked behind me and I braced for impact, but he put the plug on a table and picked up something else. He crouched next to me and attached the wrist cuff with the thigh strap using a short chain with two metal clasps. Then he did the same on the other side. I wasn’t really sure what the purpose of the chains was. It would make moving around a bit awkward, but not stopping me from standing up or anything. He then positioned himself behind me and stuck a lubed finger up my ass and begun to wiggle it. “Not used to this, I feel.” He was damn right, but I was determined to take it like a man. He removed his finger and picked up the butt plug

I could feel him press the plug gently against my asshole, probing it lightly, only to then make a surprise, hard push and shove it all in at once. As soon as the sphincter grabbed it and pushed it into place I knew something was wrong. A shudder went like a wave through the body, and I yelped like a hurt puppy, surprising myself. I tried to cover my mouth as a reflex, but my armed yanked my leg, tripped myself despite already being on all four, and face planted on the carpet. “What the fuck!” I wanted to say, but what came out was an inarticulate “Whaaaff”. Getting real scared now I got up on all four again and frantically struggled to stand up, but somehow the body wouldn’t comply. It was like I couldn’t really grasp how to do it. I realized I was whimpering when he began to stroke me, petting my head like the back of a dog. “There, there. Calm down. There is nothing you can do about it now.”

He stood up and stepped away, while I was trying to figure out what was going on. I took a  step forward using my right arm and leg. That worked. I took another step with my left arm and leg. My mind was a whirlwind like I couldn’t focus on anything. I wanted to stand up, but how could you stand up if you are already standing? I let out an “Aooo” of frustration. He was back by my side again with something in his hands. What was his name? Did he ever even tell me his name? “Here, this should make you calmer” He stroked the back of my head a few times, and as much as I hated it, it was soothing. I then felt something cold. He was putting a chain around my neck, and then clasped a leash to it. I don’t know why, but suddenly the noise in my head went silent.

“Good boy!” He stroked my head again. “Let’s go to the door and clean up your mess. Heel!” We started walking out of his bedroom and down his short hallway toward the door.  My shoes laid randomly dropped on the floor, and a third shoe. It was one of his. A bright blue Nike air max shoe. The other one was neatly placed next to a row of other shoes. “Did you do that?” he asked and pointed at his shoe. “Bad puppy! Get it.” I raced ahead and bit into the heel of the shoe. It was still warm and smelled of his foot. It wasn’t that cheesy smell of reused socks or the sour note of workout sweat, but a light, earthy smell of everyday feet. Almost a bit like hay. “You like that?” I realized I was breathing in heavily with my nose in his sneaker, biting the ankle collar. I froze. I felt shame. Like I was doing something I shouldn’t be doing.

“Haha, it’s OK,” he said, and ruffled my hair. He proceeded to grab the other two shoes while I placed his sneaker on the floor and tried to dig my face into the opening. I didn’t get very far, but I manage to lick the inside bottom of the shoe. As it turned moist it released more fragrance. I could imagine him out on the streets, sweating during a hot day. Perhaps dashing to catch a ride. It wasn’t a pungent smell, but it was virile. It was the smell of someone with stamina. Then he stole it from me. “Hey, we have more cleanup to do.” I whined as he placed his shoe next to his other one.

Then he dropped on all four too and displayed his ass for me. “You left a mess here.” He didn’t have to say more as I attacked his butt cheeks with my tongue to clean them from my drying cum. It didn’t take many licks to clean him up around the butt hole. I then proceeded to lick the butt and to try to get my tongue as far up his ass as I could. While the taste was all mine, I kept breathing in his scent. It wasn’t at all as rewarding as the shoe. He was clean, had a citrus and cedar tree cologne, and hadn’t sweated much during our brief sex. I wished I would have worked him up harder. I know I could have made him exhausted from pleasure if I wanted to. He must have been squeezing now because my cum just kept coming out of him.

Abruptly he got up, mid lick. “Aw, you’re so hungry. Puppy needs food,” he said and walked into his small kitchen. I followed as fast I could. He opened the fridge and pulled out a few Tupperware containers, and dumped the contents into a dog bowl. He placed it on the floor. Brown rice, salmon, and broccoli. “There. Eat it all up. Puppy must stay strong for daddy.” I dove headfirst into the bowl and started to munch down the bowl of fridge-cold diet food. I realized I was starving and somehow this bland mush felt really satisfying. I started at a ferocious pace, but as I got down to the last quarter I was beginning to feel full. While grateful for the food, how could daddy know how much I could eat. Daddy? What was this nonsense? He’s a fuck I don’t even know the name of I picked up at a bar to breed. I was the top dog here, the alpha. This had to stop. I should stand up, take my stuff, and go. But I couldn’t stand up. I was already standing up. In frustration I howled.

He came back into the kitchen. I hadn’t even noticed him gone. He was wearing shorts again, but a different kind. Grey sweatpant shorts. He quickly sat himself down on the floor next to me, with crossed legs. He grabbed me and gently but firmly tipped me over so my head fell into his lap. “Puppy having a bad dream?” he asked. He didn’t sound mocking or sarcastic. His hand was stroking me on the side. I whimpered into his sweatpants. I could smell him again, the scent of a viril young man. I borrowed my head into his crouch and breathed heavily. I could smell his dick. Citrus, cedar, and precum. I began to lick the cotton fabric. “Good boy. Good boy.” I did nothing to his dick, but I could feel mine swelling in the jockstrap.

He gently pushed me away from him, got up, and filled another bowl with tap water. He placed it next to the first bowl. Then he held out one hand in front of me. I had to get up on all four from my lying position to see what was in it. Two white pills, one small and round and one larger and longer.  "Here, take these. They will make you stronger and better.“ I sniffed but all I got was his scent. I licked up both pills in one go and plunged my head into the water bowl to get some water to swallow them with.

He got down on the floor with me again, and started to remove the wrist cuffs and thigh straps, all while stroking me on my back. "I don’t think we need these anymore,” he said. I had no idea what he meant. I was just happy he was touching me. My dick was happy too.

“Come, let’s make you ready for the night,” he said, got up and left the kitchen. I got up on all four and did my best to catch up with him. He walked to his bathroom and opened the door. I rushed to get in before him. “Hey, hey,” he lovingly scolded me. He turned on the light and revealed a large bathroom. Shower, bathtub, washing machine, lots of bottles of shampoo and jars with creams, and a large dog cage. “Sit,” he commanded.

I immediately sat down, pushing the tail plug in a bit. I felt a wave, like a shudder going from the ass through the body. He was looking through the large cupboard. “Ah,” he said and pulled out a small jar. He put on a disposable latex glove, and kneeled in front of my. “Let’s take care of that for you,” he said and freed my dick and balls from the jockstrap. He then dipped a few fingers in the jar and begun to massage some ointment all over my dick and balls. I didn’t recognize the faint smell. I could feel my private parts getting warmer, but if that was the salve or just him rubbing me I couldn’t tell. Then he put everything back into the jockstrap. “Let’s marinate that for a while and tomorrow you will last hours.” I didn’t understand him.

Then he went to the cage and opened it. I could see that the floor of the cage was filled with clothes. T-shirts, sweatshirts, shorts, trunks, socks. It all looked like gym clothes, or at last lazy day attire. “Come here, get in your cage.” There was a small part of me that wanted to hesitate, so I didn’t run in but deliberately walked. I could feel my dick and balls heating up as they fully erect rubbed within my jockstrap. As I got close and closer to the cage I could smell it. It somehow made me excited and I sped up my stride the last few steps into the cage. It was just filled with different scents of him. Not citrus or cedar, but him. Socks he had been running in. A T-shirt he had slept in. A pair of sweatpants that had been through a lot. I just kept moving my head all around the cage. In indecision I just laid down and started to wiggle and rub against everything.

He closed and latched the cage door. “Good night, puppy. Dream about fucking me.” He didn’t need to tell me that.

[apparitionism]

Why

I want to wish a very happy Gift Exchange Day to @mysensitiveside ​ ! This gift, a short and sweet AU, will keep on giving for a while, in that I wasn’t able to fling the whole thing across the finish line for you today. (No surprise, I’m sure, given my posting pace over the past... um... some time.) A second part will appear sooner rather than later, however, and I hope that the whole thing will be to your liking. Thanks of course go to @kla1991 for the organization of the whole  @bering-and-wells-exchange extravaganza... and I do just want to say that, as for my own reasons (reasons as such being quite relevant to this story), I still love Myka and Helena, and everybody in this bar, very much.

Why

“Why are you here?” Myka Bering asked of the dog she discovered in the hallway, gazing up at her, when she opened the door of her apartment one Saturday morning.

The dog blinked.

“Aren’t you Sam’s dog?”

The dog blinked again.

Things happen for a reason.

Myka had always been sure of that. So much so that it had shaped her idea of heaven: surely, the experience of paradise was nothing more, less, or other than finally being in possession of all the reasons.

When she was small, her “WHY?” refrain hadn’t distinguished her from her peers, but while most other children eventually gave up the incessant repetitions of that question, she never did. She discovered early on, however, that knowing whom to ask made an enormous difference in the quality of the answers she received: her mother’s exasperated “Because” was endlessly frustrating, as was her father’s equally unsatisfying “It’s magic.”

Which was why she became a research chemist, her choice of career happening for just that reason: it was always going to be a science of some sort, for the “why” questions—which she tended to ask internally now—had answers, if she put enough effort into finding them.

So it struck her as strange, that morning, to find herself asking “why” of a neighbor’s dog, out loud. The quality of any answer she got wasn’t likely to be high.

She had never seen the dog this dirty before. He... was it a he? maybe? she thought she’d heard “boy” at some point... had always seemed a little disheveled, his coat fluffed but lopsided, like he always slept on it wrong and nobody bothered with a comb. But never like this. Never with actual dirt.

She picked up the dog—he weighed less than she expected; she hadn’t realized how much of him was fur—and with some trepidation went to knock on Sam’s door.

No answer.

Myka took the dog back to her apartment. “Are you hungry?” she asked him. He blinked.

She had no idea what dogs ate, other than dog food, and she had no dog food.

She discovered that dogs ate several slices of cheese, a ham sandwich, a peanut butter sandwich, and a corn tortilla. Then dogs took a nap, no doubt exhausted from all the eating.

After numerous fruitless attempts at Sam’s door throughout the day, Myka called Mr. Nielsen, the super. “Sam moved out,” she was told. “Couple weeks ago. No forwarding address.”

“But I have his dog.”

“That’s nice of you,” Mr. Nielsen said.

“You don’t understand. I didn’t intend to have his dog.”

“Then maybe it isn’t nice. It’s not my problem either way.” He hung up.

Myka hadn’t liked Sam. He had asked her out, and she had said no, because he made her nervous. Anyone asking her out made her nervous, but this felt... different. She sensed she’d been right to turn him down, for he got visibly offended, in a way that made her even more nervous, such that she avoided him as much as possible afterward. He didn’t seem like a good person. But to move away and leave his dog behind?

She considered taking the dog to the animal shelter. What was she going to do with a dog? “What am I going to do with a dog?” she asked the dog in question. He blinked.

“I guess it’s you and me, dog,” she said after that Saturday turned into a weekend, the weekend into a week, one week into two.

And he looked at her as if to ask not “why?” but “what took you so long?”

She bought a leash. A bed. Actual dog food. So many products. “I’ve never shopped this much for myself,” she told him. She couldn’t decipher his blink in response to that information. Was it “But of course you should buy more for me” or “You should buy more for yourself”?

As it happened, he was a responsibility in ways she had not expected to enjoy. She had to leave work at midday, every day, to go home and walk him. She had that thing to do, and she did it. Her lab neighbor Abigail teased her about the dog being just an excuse to escape the lab, an excuse who probably didn’t even exist. “He’s real,” Myka protested. “I even had to come up with a name for him.”

Abigail laughed. “Sure you did.”

“Leukotriene.”

Pause. “Okay, now I’m convinced. Mostly. But I still want photo evidence.”

It hadn’t occurred to Myka to take a picture of the newly named Leukotriene, but she did so that night. She included a ruler in the photo for scale, lest Abigail mistake him for a Pomeranian, which was the breed—as far as Myka could tell, given her limited dog knowledge—he most resembled. The next day, “That’s him,” she said.

“Your dog.”

“I guess so.”

“He’s really... pretty.”

At home that night, she told him, “Abigail thinks you’re pretty.” He did the blink. “Yes,” she affirmed, “I do too.”

She shortened his name to “Leuko.” He didn’t seem to hate it. Then again, he wasn’t very vocal, positively or negatively.

She took him on walks, increasingly long ones, on the winding trails of the city’s largest park. She had never been a walker, but Leuko was... well, no: he was a trotter. A delighted, peppy trotter. Myka tried to match his bright energy, but she didn’t ever feel the same shine. It made her unaccountably happy, though, to see him that happy.

When she bathed him, he suffered it (no bright energy there), but she had a sense that he knew how impressive he looked when he was clean. His fluffy tan coat expanded into even greater glossy magnificence, an invitation to sink fingers in, and it rewarded the venture.

The best part, though, was when she would sit on the sofa, reading a journal or, less frequently, a novel, and he would lie against her, sighing as she rested her hand against his soft, warm body.

It was easy to forget that Sam had ever existed. Easy to sink into the belief that she and Leuko had always been a team. That this new texture of her life—this sneaky, responsibility-laden velvet—was a reality that had simply been held in abeyance until the right time. And now was that time.

One Saturday, as they walked in a nearly empty park, enjoying an early cold snap, Myka heard from a great distance an exclamation: “Monty!” She wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but suddenly her leash hand was empty, and Leuko was tearing across an open field, toward a solitary female figure, barking, making noise like he’d finally learned, or just remembered, that he had a voice.

Myka took off after him, drawing near at the moment he leapt—yes, leapt—into the woman’s arms.

She was striking, with dark eyes that rhymed with Leuko’s... in fact, she rhymed entirely with him, with his beauty. She looked up from him to Myka, those dark eyes widening, seemingly shocked to find another person present. “This is my dog,” she said, a little halting, as if she were trying the words out. Or as if she were coaxing them back into her mouth from far away.

Myka’s breath seized. “No,” she said, forcing the word out. “He’s my dog.”

“He is not. He’s mine. You can see it.”

Myka could see it. It drove ice in her heart to see it, to see him so ecstatic to see someone else, but it was there to be seen. It was there to be heard, too: Myka would never, she was sure, forget that declarative bark.

“He was lost for so long. How did you come to have him?” the woman asked, and Myka, trying to hide that heart-ice, explained about Sam. The woman said, shortly and with pain, “So that’s what happened.” She didn’t offer anything more, and while Myka wasn’t the most sensitive of souls, she could tell that this was not the sort of thing a stranger could ask any question about, not why or wherefore or anything at all.

A stranger. She was a stranger to both of them now, this woman and her dog, a stranger in their way, on the path in front of them—on a path she never should have been on in the first place. And if there was one thing Myka knew how to do, it was get out of the way.

She tried, mightily, to tell herself that that was what she should do: just step away. Let them carry on down the path. You didn’t have a dog before, and you were fine.

Leuko—Monty—looked at her from his perch in the woman’s arms. He blinked.

In response to that, Myka found herself babbling, “Can I... I mean, would you maybe let me... walk him sometime? Because he and I. I mean, or maybe just me. I. I’ll miss... it all.”

“I’m disinclined to let him out of my sight,” the woman said, with seeming care.

Myka didn’t have to ask why. “I don’t mean alone,” she said. “Just to see him.”

The woman looked at the dog in her arms. Did he blink? Whatever he showed her, it was enough. “All right,” she said. “Next week?” At Myka’s nod, she continued, “I should introduce myself. I’m Helena Wells.”

Myka understood even that was a matter of trust. “I’m Myka Bering,” she said, “and let me give you my number so you—”

“I’d rather not,” Helena Wells said, with the same care.

Not overmuch trust. “I can bring you what I bought for him,” Myka said, and maybe it was a flail to show that Helena Wells did not need to doubt her intentions. “If you want.”

“Thank you, but I still have all his things. Always holding out hope.” She said that with a quirk of her lip that Myka envied. Hope—what was it?

But of course Helena Wells had held out hope. Even after Myka’s own short time with Leuko—Monty—she would have done the same thing. Had he suddenly been gone, had she not known why.

The next Saturday morning, Myka spent some time pondering a very strange question: what do you wear to walk your ex-dog with someone who probably wants to forget that you exist?

The relief Myka felt when Helena and Leuko—Monty—appeared... it nearly felled her. There he is, she thought, and he’s all right. Not that she had expected anything different, but it was a relief. After a week she had not understood as a ratcheting up of anxiety, she at last felt relief.

They walked, side by side, Leuko—no, Monty—leading the way, shining even more brightly than Myka had known he could. “I didn’t intend to have your dog,” Myka started. “I didn’t mean to keep him... I mean, to keep him from you. The super can testify to the timeline, and I—”

“It’s all right,” Helena said. “I see that.”

“But I’m trying to tell you why this happened.”

“It doesn’t matter why. He’s here, and I told you, it’s all right.”

“Of course it matters! You’d care if I did try to steal him.”

“But you didn’t,” Helena said, and her words were gentle. “You cared for him. You didn’t have to.”

That left Myka strangely perplexed, because now, in retrospect, what else could have happened? “Of course I did.”

And Leuko—no, Monty—looked up at her, and he did the blink, and Myka knew what it meant: “Of course you did.”

Meeting, walking. They fell into a regular Saturday-walk schedule. As the weeks progressed, Myka’s anxiety gave way to, made room for, anticipation. Leuko—Monty—never barked when he saw Myka, but he did pull on the leash as she approached and gave her a nuzzle when she knelt to greet him.

“Why did you name him Monty?” Myka asked, one Saturday.

That made Helena smile. “I didn’t. His breeder did.”

“His breeder?”

“He’s a Mittelspitz.”

“He’s... a medium? A medium spitz?” Well, that explained his looking like a Pomeranian.

“Precisely.”

Myka felt dim. “But what does that have to do with being called Monty?”

“Nothing, as far as I know. The breeder named his litter after the stars of A Place in the Sun; he’s Montgomery Clift. His sister is Shelley Winters, and his brother is Elizabeth Taylor.”

“His brother? Why?” Myka really did try to limit the asking of that question out loud, but this seemed extra-justified.

“He’s even more beautiful than Monty.”

Did Monty the Mittelspitz turn his head and harrumph at such blasphemy? Myka surely was imagining that. He must have just seen a squirrel. “Poor Shelley Winters, though,” Myka said.

Helena laughed... and Myka felt that she should name that laugh “Elizabeth Taylor” as well. Helena said, “No, no, she’s pretty too. A remarkably lovely litter, and in fact Shelley was the only one who was show quality. If beauty were all it took, Liz would have ruled the circuit.” Another harrumph. “Don’t pout, darling,” Helena said to the dog, then to Myka, “Why did you name him Leuko?”

“After a peptide,” Myka admitted. “Well, a group of peptides.”

“A peptide.”

That was an implicit “why,” and Myka was strangely comforted. “I’m a chemist,” she said.

“A chemist.” Helena furrowed her brow. “How funny that I didn’t know that. How have we not got around to professions?”

Myka wanted to say, “Because when we get close to anything about our real lives, one or both of us backs away.” They still had no contact outside the park, and even as they shared and deepened this strange long-walk familiarity, Myka did not know where the line was. Had it shifted? If not, would it ever? She tried, very cautiously, “I don’t know. Will you... will you tell me yours?”

“I teach writing.”

For some reason, Myka couldn’t hold back her next question, even though it was not justified: “Why?”

“I have knowledge and expertise to impart. Due to having studied writing. And having made a living in the past as a writer myself.”

“That’s a good reason,” Myka said, and she thought, That’s more than you’ve said about yourself in weeks of walks. Was something different about this day?

“Thank you. Though I may not need your imprimatur, I’m pleased to have it.”

Was she... teasing? “I like good reasons,” Myka tried to explain.

“Good reasons. Recognizing them is not inapplicable to the craft of writing.” Helena said this with a funny little bow of her head.

Myka’s facial capillaries flooded with blood.

She knew why, but she hid the answer in her heart, for she remembered all too well Helena’s desolate “So that’s what happened.”

On one of their earlier walks, they had run into Abigail. “How’s little Leukotriene?” she asked. “Or I guess he’s not so little. That’s weird; I thought he was a Pom.”

Myka resisted the impulse to remind her of the ruler in the photo.

The next day, “Who’s your girlfriend?” Abigail asked.

It was the first time Myka really registered that she had continued her habit of going home in the middle of the day. To no purpose at all, she went home, stood in her kitchen, ate a sandwich that no one else wanted any of, and then went back to the lab. It was not a responsibility anymore, and it did nothing for her. She resolved to stop.

“Not my girlfriend,” Myka said, but she was appalled at herself: for a rash moment, she had wanted to let Abigail believe otherwise.

“Walking your dog with her?”

“Not my dog.” On that point, of course, Myka wished she could let herself believe otherwise.

“Pretty sure the dog matched that picture you showed me.”

“He’s her dog.”

“You were trying to pass your girlfriend’s dog off as yours?”

“She’s not my girlfriend. And he was my dog... for a minute.”

Walking in the park every week was not a responsibility. It was a reward.

And as Myka enjoyed her reward, each week, she studied Helena’s face, listened to her words. She tried to tell herself she was merely continuing to assess Helena’s relationship with Leuko. No: Monty. And she was doing that... but she was doing so much more.

How much could Myka continue to hide in her heart? And for how long?

As if in answer, the Saturday following their “professions” discussion, Helena (and Leuko—no, Monty) failed to appear. Myka, desolate at the absence of them both, walked by herself. It was terrible.

The park was empty of them the following week as well. Still, Myka walked, taking the isolation as her punishment for having misunderstood lines and crossing them, for having been so foolish as to let any part of her secret heart show on her face.

The aftermath of that second lonely walk left Myka restless, anxious. Should she try to find Helena and ask her why she had so abruptly decided against... whatever they were doing? Could she then beg her to reconsider walking a dog together to no purpose? “I’ll stop wanting anything more than that,” Myka thought to tell her. “I promise.”

But of course trying to find her was out of the question; if Helena didn’t want even to walk with Myka, she surely didn’t want to be stalked by her.

So Myka did the only thing she could do: the next Saturday, she returned again to the park. And she hoped.

TBC

[im-the-punk-who]

I saw your post on dogs with anxiety. As a professional, I was wondering if you wouldn't mind sharing a list of behaviors in dogs that may be attributed to anxiety and how to tell if it's anxiety or personality. Do you know any of the behaviors in cats that mean the same? You don't have to answer, you provided great examples in your post, I was just wondering what more I could learn without the uncertainty of truthfulness provided by Google. Thanks!

Hey! So yes I can absolutely list behaviors I look for when I'm assessing if a dog has anxiety(and I can go into cats a bit from foster/rescue experience but I haven't been 'trained' on them so it's much more circumstantial).

The short answer is that if your dog seems anxious, that's not a feature it's a bug and you should address it. Even if it seems like it's just their personality - that usually means they're an anxious dog and need help, not that the behavior should be ignored or can't be changed.

Also, I approach dog training from a 'dog problem' perspective rather than a 'people problem' perspective. I am not focused on if the behavior being exhibited is a behavioral problem *for the owner* - I am focused on what that behavior tells me about the dog's emotional state.

But first! Two disclaimers:

1) 100% of dogs will show some of these behaviors in varying degrees. Just because your dog does one or two things on this list at a low degree doesn't mean they're about to have a breakdown. If you think your dog might be anxious enough to need training based on this list, consult a trainer in person. While I am a dog trainer, this isn't meant to be a self-diagnosis thing. Lay-people are notoriously bad at determining how bad dog anxiety is, and a trained professional may very well pick up on things you aren't seeing or be able to explain what's going on.

2) You'll notice some of these things are behaviors people commonly think are 'play' or 'affection' or 'the dog being high energy' or 'because of the breed' - and yes! Yes. My whole point in most of my other posts has been that we have desensitized ourselves to just how anxious our dogs are, right up until they bite someone. Again, if you see a dog exhibiting a number of these behaviors, the best thing is to consult a trainer - in person! <3

Also, below a cut bc this is just ridiculously long

So! there is sort of a hierarchy of dog behaviors. First are the lowest levels of behavioral problems. These are the ones that most dogs exhibit in one form or another. Just like all people exhibit anxiety sometimes, so do all dogs and it's really to what extent those behaviors tell us about quality of life rather than their simple presence. The second level is more acute behaviors - these are ones that may or may not require training but you should absolutely note if you see your dog displaying them. Third category is dogs who have already gone way past what we would consider a 'normal' threshhold for behavior. If your dog is doing these things you need a professional. Full Stop.

For lower level behaviors what I might do is take stock of how many and how intense behaviors are. If your dog is showing, say, 1-2 low level behaviors constantly I might recommend seeing a trainer but wouldn't push it, but if they're showing 1-2 mid level behaviors as well, or like the whole list of low level behaviors, I would absolutely recommend talking to a trainer.

Low level behaviors commonly associated with anxiety:

- 'Stickiness', needy/pushy behavior(dogs who follow you from room to room or climb on you, invade your personal space habitually) - Mouthiness (they consistently go for your hands/arms instead of a toy when playing, or like to chew/lick people habitually) - Putting paws on people/lacking boundaries (like, if your dog wants you to play with it, and puts their paws on you to let you know, or if your dog consistently wants to sit on you) - Taking high value items and running away with them (low level resource guarding), or turning away from you with a high value item/growling/freezing - Being unable to settle (mild pacing, moves from room to room often, rarely sleeps deeply) - the LACK of deep sleep (you rarely see your dog 'dreaming') - Mild leash pulling - 'Snapping' food up rather than taking it gently - Lip-licking, continuous panting, 'freezing' at stimulus - Whining - Moderate vocalizations (barking, howling, etc) Mid-level Anxiety:

- Habitually jumping on people - Rushing at people or through doors/openings - Consistent pulling on leash - Reactive barking (at cars, bikes, other dogs, people, etc) - Uncontrollable 'Zoomie' behavior (will not stop if asked, may bump into people or other dogs) - Compulsive behaviors (digging, chewing, licking, drinking all the water in a bowl, etc) - Pacing/needing a high level of exercise every day, or immediately getting up if you move - Destructive behavior (rips up every toy they're given, chews shoes or other items consistently) - Resource guarding (bears teeth, snaps but doesn't make contact, takes items and hides them habitually) - Hard biting/inappropriate strength while playing, or entering a fight they don't have a part in Starting fights with other dogs over minor infractions (has my toy, was in my way, stepped on me while I was sleeping) - Inability/Unwillingness to take food (yes, this means if your dog is a habitual ‘picky eater’ that can be a symptom of anxiety. I said what I said.)

High-Level Anxiety:

- Overt aggression (lip-snarling while barking, 'hard' barking, biting, pinning, etc) - Starting fights with other dogs who are not interacting with them(going across a room to start a fight, immediately starting a fight upon eye-sight, etc) - hard pulling on leash/darting on leash - Compulsive behavior to the point of self injury - Intense resource guarding to the point it is a danger to interact with them - ‘Starvation’ or lack of ability to eat consistently

Also, because this tends to be really helpful for people, here's a small, non-exhaustive list of dog body-language signals that I look for when I'm assessing a dog's anxiety level:

- 'Looseness' - is the dog's back bending as it moves or is it tense along its topline. This is the number one thing I look for. If a dog has a tight topline, something is bothering them and usually, this is the clearest and most common indicator a dog will give. - Tail level - tucked, low, level, high - Ear level - floppy, back, neutral, forward, uneven, pointed) - Lips - Tight, loose, 'smiling', closed - Body balance (are they leaning forward, neutral, or leaning back/away from the stimulus) - Tail wagging if concentrated from mid to top of the tail (base stiff) (YES this can be a sign the dog is anxious NO it is not just because they're happy) - Presence of 'calming signals' - whole body shaking(wet dog shake), sighing, yawning, stretching - Body position (laying down, belly up, freezing in place, crouching/tucking, etc) - Eyes (hard, soft, wall eye, wide, fixed, moving, staring)

And finally, I do wanna plug the guy who taught me a lot of what I know because he is GREAT and his website has some really cool articles and podcasts - and I can actually recommend his youtube channel as well because most of it is just 'this is why we do what we do' rather than how-tos.

https://www.markmccabe.com/ https://www.markmccabe.com/blog/ (I particularly recommend What do Grade Schools and Mountains have to do with dog training? and Is your dog an optimist?) Youtube channel And now cats! So, cats at their core are similar, but their behaviors will differ slightly. Also again I'll reiterate that while I've had cats all my life and have worked with them extensively I have not received any formal training. So, where a lot of dog behaviors are focused on the person, cat behaviors will often be focused on their environment or other animals. Because we don’t train cats that ‘human means things happen’ they are less likely to connect a human with their unfulfilled need. (So, instead of a dog feeling anxious and going ‘must find/interact with/annoy human’, a cat will feel anxious and go ‘how can I fuck something up. anything it doesnt matter it just has to be something someone loves’). Low level behaviors - ‘sudden’ activity/reactive to loud noises (if you get up and they do, if they consistently hide at a certain noise, etc) - consistently pushing things off surfaces or other ‘attention seeking’ behaviors - ‘Scarfing’ food or eating and then vomitting - Stalking or consistent following of you or other animals

Mid-level behaviors

- Litter box guarding (will 'wait' outside the box while another cat is using it and may start a fight - agitation when being pet or touched - loss of appetite - anti-social behavior(hiding, hissing, etc) - swatting with claws extended - ‘Pouncing’ or stalking behavior that may escalate

High level behaviors

- Starting fights with animals who are not interacting with them - Peeing/pooping outside the litter box - Biting and breaking skin - unprovoked attacks that cause injury

As with dogs, one or two of these things doesn’t mean 100% your cat has an anxiety problem, but these are all indicators that something might be causing your cat stress and that should be addressed.

[greenjacketwhitehatdocmui]

Frozen:  In the Details

Summary:  Sometimes, the simplest of tasks can have a deeper meaning.  Agnarr muses on what washing the car has meant to him in the past, and possibly the future.  This was written for the “Summer Lovin’” issue of @frozines on Tumblr. Modern AU, Agduna and Kristanna.

This story can be found on @frozines and at Fanfiction.net and Archive of Our Own.

Enjoy!

--Pearson “Doc” Mui

Frozen:  In the Details by Pearson “Doc” Mui

           Agnarr awoke early on a Saturday. With some grumbling, Iduna released him from their bed as he prepared for the day. She understood that this task had to be done early in the morning, but she didn’t have to like it. If things worked out, however, it would have been worth waking up early for.

           After a quick breakfast and some cleanup, Agnarr trotted to the garage. The spring in his step ran counter to the occasional crackling sound in his knees. Even the projected thirty percent chance of rain did nothing to dampen his spirits.

Eyeing one corner of the garage, he chose his tools for the day’s task. Buckets, wash mitts and car soap were laid out on the garage floor. After a moment, he opened up some folding chairs and a small table.

           Opening the garage door, he smiled at the sight of his girls coming home, if only for today. They were adults now; Elsa was working on her PhD while Anna was a year into graduate school. The nest was never empty for too long, thankfully. They made time to visit, even if it was just for small talk.

           Elsa eyed him ruefully before accepting a quick hug. She had a pretty good idea of what he had planned for their incoming guest. Anna, on the other hand, was pouting.

           “Dad, are you really going to put Kristoff through this?” Clearly, his youngest wasn’t pleased at the prospect.

           Agnarr raised an eyebrow. “The way you’re talking, you’d think that I was going to torture him. It’s just a car wash between men.” He sighed. “You used to love helping me wash the car.”

           “I remember that you loved using the hose,” Elsa reminded Anna. There wasn’t any real bite to her words, though. “We used to help while wearing swimsuits.”

           Anna’s pout faded as she sighed, briefly lost in nostalgia.  “Those were good times, weren’t they?”

           Iduna folded her arms and sighed. Both of her girls were wearing swimsuits underneath their shirts and shorts. Anna eagerly fingered the trigger to the hose while Elsa made sure the supplies were in order.

           Elsa was having a good day. It hadn’t taken too much cajoling to get her outside. Anna’s puppy-dog eyes were a formidable weapon, especially at the tender age of eight.

           Most men would have insisted on doing “man stuff” by themselves. Agnarr wanted to have as many family activities as possible. Everyone had a job: Agnarr would wash the car, Anna would rinse it off and Elsa would take care of the windows. Iduna was there for spot-checking and refreshments.

           “Is everyone ready?” he asked enthusiastically.

           “Ready!” Anna piped up.

           “I’m ready, Papa,” Elsa said more demurely.

           He nodded.  “Well, let’s get this car clean, shall we?”

           Iduna marveled at their coordination. Everyone worked their roles admirably. Of course, a family wash like this was more for fun than work. There wouldn’t be any intensely-detailed work like Agnarr had done before—

           She suppressed a shudder. Agnarr’s father had been a cold taskmaster. He was more of a sire than an actual, warm father figure. While she took no pleasure in anyone’s passing, she had admit that the town had been the better for it.

           The calm lasted almost the entire time the car was being washed. Then Anna got a little overzealous with the hose and sprayed into the air.

           “Look, Elsa! Look Papa! I’m making rainbows—oops.” Anna laughed nervously as she realized that both Elsa and Agnarr were soaked.

           Iduna sighed, safe in the garage. She knew that it was going to end up like this.

           With calm, deliberate steps, she retreated further into the garage and grabbed a third, covered bucket from its hiding place. She and Agnarr had prepared this little surprise last night. With some effort, she hoisted the bucket to the driveway and uncovered it.

           Iduna reached into the bucket and grabbed a water balloon. She gestured for everyone to do the same.

           “On three,” she said firmly. “One, two—“

           “THREE!” Anna squealed.

           The battle was joined. When it was over, they were collapsed on the lawn, soaked through and basking in the summer sun.  It had been a good day.

           “Morning, girls,” Iduna greeted them. “Have you had breakfast yet? I could fix something up.”

           “We’re fine, Mom,” Elsa reassured her. “We ate before we came here.”

           Anna blinked and winced as she ran back to her car, an unassuming Honda Civic.  Rummaging around, she extracted a bag and jogged back.

           “We stopped by Hudson’s Hearth,” Anna said. “Destin and Halima say `hello.’” She opened it up and the three women sniffed deeply at the smell that wafted out.

           “Hmm…chocolate,” they chorused. For a moment, they were lost in the smell of the pastries.

           Agnarr tried not to chuckle. The apples didn’t fall far from the tree.

           He turned away from them and tried not to look too anxious or expectant. In the brief encounters he’d had before, Kristoff had seemed like a nice enough young man. It was clear that he cared greatly for Anna.

           Unfortunately, Anna hadn’t been so lucky the first time. At first glance, Hans had seemed like a good person, too. But the devil was always in the details—or, in this case, the detailing.

           Hans had pulled into their driveway in a Ferrari. To Agnarr, this was the first clue that the young man might have been trying too hard.

           “Good morning, Mr. Arendelle!” Hans greeted him enthusiastically. “So, who’s going to get the royal car wash treatment?”

           “We’ll be taking care of Anna’s car,” Agnarr said. “I already waxed our cars last week. I figured that Anna’s car could use a cleanup.”

           Hans’s smile froze. There was a dark shadow of disappointment in his eyes.

           “Oh,” Hans said simply. Then he rallied. “Oh, of course,” he agreed. “Nothing but the best for Anna.”

           “I’m glad that you agree,” Agnarr said. “I have all the supplies in the garage. Was there anything you needed?”

           “Thank you sir, but I brought my own things,” Hans said smoothly. He almost strutted to the Ferrari and pulled out some high-end detailing supplies from the little trunk. They were all brand new and still in the package.

           “Do you use all this on your own car?” Agnarr asked.

           Hans paused. Then he smiled in an ingratiating manner. “I don’t compromise on quality, Mr. Arendelle. As I said before, I want only the best for Anna.”

           As the time passed, Agnarr noticed several things he wasn’t sure that he liked. Hans insisted on doing it all himself, even though Agnarr had offered to help. Whenever Anna caught his eye, Hans flexed and winked.

           It was clear to Agnarr that Hans had never washed a car in his life. He was washing randomly instead of methodically, “politely” refusing any suggestions. He was sloppy applying the wax, squirting a long line on the car and working from there. Furthermore, when Hans thought that neither Agnarr nor Anna was looking, he scowled.

           Agnarr did not have a good feeling about Hans. He tried to voice his objections to Anna, but she was entirely captivated by how charming, selfless and helpful he was. Hans was, in her eyes, flawless. It was not a good sign.

           “I’m not sure it’ll work out,” he admitted to Iduna later on. It pained him to see Anna clinging to Hans’s every word. It was obvious that Anna was utterly besotted with Hans.

           “I didn’t know that a car wash was a personality test,” she joked. Her smile faded as she noted his grim expression. “You’re serious?”

           He sighed heavily. “He doesn’t take any suggestions or criticism. He shows off when he knows that people are looking. When he thinks nobody’s looking, it’s obvious that he’s not really enjoying himself.” He paused. “And honestly, even Anna could see that he did a terrible job of it.”

           “Elsa doesn’t like him, either,” she said. “Something about how he seems insincere to everyone except the person he’s focusing on.”

           “Dad had that kind of charm,” Agnarr admitted. “He was better at it, though. Hardly anyone saw his dark side.”

           She flinched. “We should warn her.”

           “I’m not sure she’d listen. She has an incredibly forgiving heart and Hans will take full advantage of it. You saw how besotted she was with him. I could practically see the hearts floating from her.”

           “So we do nothing?” Those words left a bad taste in her mouth.

           “No.” He shook his head. “We hope for the best and prepare for the worst. If he tries to isolate her, we find ways to keep in contact. Elsa’s ready to intervene if she has to.”

           She nodded. “And what if he goes too far?”

           His expression darkened. “Then I will make certain that he never huts anyone again.”

          “Just you?” she asked. “You never let me have any fun.”

          “Fine, I can go after you,” he sighed. “Not that there would be much left.”

           Anna’s enthusiastic greeting to Kristoff’s truck broke Agnarr out of his reverie.  He chuckled as Kristoff parked his truck on the side of the road. It was a small gesture of consideration, one of many that he’d observed. Kristoff wasn’t rich and he hadn’t been able to afford the best education, but he was kind and sincere.

           “Woof!”

           Oh, and Kristoff had a big, friendly dog. The girls had taken to him almost immediately, with Anna babbling baby-talk as Elsa looked embarrassed. Iduna was not immune to Sven’s “puppy in a big body” charm. As for Agnarr, he was fond of the big dog as well—though he tried to be restrained about it.

           “Mr. Arendelle,” Kristoff greeted Agnarr politely—and a bit nervously. “Um, I hope you don’t mind that I brought Sven. The big lug didn’t want to stay home.”

           “That’s fine,” Agnarr said reasonably. “As long as he behaves himself, I don’t have any problem.”

           “He’s a total sweetie, Dad,” Anna said from behind. “Want me to keep an eye on him?” She asked Kristoff.

           “That’d be great, thanks,” he said.  “If he gets fidgety, you know what to do.”

Opening the door, he grabbed Sven’s leash. The big dog jumped out and waited for Anna to accept the lead. After the obligatory scratch behind the ears and baby talk, she and Sven headed to the shelter of the garage.

           “So, um, I brought some stuff with me,” Kristoff admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture. “Of course, if there’s something you want to use, I’m okay with that.”

           Agnarr scrutinized the equipment in the back of the truck. The microfiber towels had been neatly folded in their own, zip-locked bag. Two buckets with grates inside met with his approval. He did arch an eyebrow at the orbital polisher and pads, something that his late father would have taken issue with. There were spray bottles of wheel cleaner, “ceramic wax,” something for the upholstery and something called “instant detailer.” Everything was in good condition, but it was obvious that the equipment had seen some use.

           “Do you think I brought too much?” Kristoff asked nervously. “Maybe I overdid it.”

           “I think this will be just fine,” Agnarr said. He turned towards Anna. “What are you in the mood for today?” he asked.

           “Well, I really don’t need anything fancy,” she replied. “Why? What did you have in mind?”

           “I could probably get rid of some of those swirl marks,” Kristoff suggested. “If you want, I mean.  Think of it as kind of exfoliating your car.”

           She lifted an eyebrow at the metaphor. “Well…maybe just the hood and the trunk,” she allowed. She quirked the corner of her mouth in amusement. “You just want to use your little toy, don’t you?”

           “Well, I saved up for it,” he admitted. “So, smooth out the hood and trunk, got it.”

           Agnarr tried not to chuckle. “You have a polisher, don’t you?”

           “It’s nothing fancy,” Kristoff said. “I saved up for it, so I figured I might as well get some mileage out of it.”

           “He waxes his truck every few weeks,” Anna said. “You know, I kind of feel bad that you’re doing all this for my car. Maybe I could take care of the upholstery or something?”

           The two men shared a look. Anna was dressed practically for the warm weather. There was nothing objectionable about her jean shorts and t-shirt. However, crawling around to wipe down the seats would have been awkward, to say the least.

           “How about I walk you through getting your trunk polished?” Kristoff suggested. “It’s not that hard.”

           “You’re letting me touch your baby?” Anna asked dubiously.

           “My polisher is not my baby,” Kristoff protested. Then there was a warmth in his smile that made her flush. “I trust you.”

           “So…you’d let me wax your truck?” she teased.

           “Why don’t we start with your car first?” Agnarr gently interrupted. “We don’t want to wait too long, after all.”

           Elsa quietly smiled as the men worked on the car. They had been surprisingly efficient and coordinated well together. There were moments when one man had to offer feedback to the other, but neither of them took any offense. It was an unusual kind of camaraderie.

           Kristoff was a vast improvement over Hans. What he lacked in funds, he more than made up for in heart. He may have been a little rough around the edges, but there was no doubt that Anna was the most important person in his life.

           She heard one breathy sigh, then another. She noted the very contented looks on the faces to either side of her. Then she noted that even in the relatively cool summer weather, Kristoff and her father had worked up quite the sweat, their shirts clinging to them.

           With a quiet, resigned sigh, she went into the house. Her sister and mother were oblivious to her absence.

           A few moments later, she returned with a tray of drinks and two towels. She set the tray on a nearby work bench and took two tall glasses of lemonade with her.

           Anna still had a dazed, dopey expression on her face. Iduna wasn’t much better.

           Elsa took Anna’s free hand, the one that wasn’t holding Sven’s leash, and gently placed the glass in her palm. With a start, she blinked as if she were coming out of a spell.

           Elsa did the same for their mother. Iduna’s reaction was much the same as Anna’s.

           Elsa couldn’t resist a little smirk. “I thought you two might want something to drink,” she said. “You both looked…thirsty.”

           Iduna and Anna rolled their eyes at the double-entendre. Behind the cool exterior that Elsa projected, she could be quite the joker—even if her humor tended to be on the dry side.

           “Very funny,” Anna returned. “We’re just appreciating their hard work.”

           “We certainly are,” Iduna agreed. “Both of them are very diligent.”

           “Well, maybe we could reward their diligence with a towel and a sports drink?” Elsa suggested, gesturing to the tray. “I think they could use it.”

           Agnarr wiped the sweat off of his forehead. While he still enjoyed washing cars, he was reminded that he wasn’t a young man anymore. Even though he and Kristoff were cutting the workload in half, he was still going to be sore tomorrow morning.

           Still, it was gratifying to see how seriously Kristoff took things. He was methodical and, more importantly, he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. He concentrated on the job at hand and accepted feedback.

           “You’ve had some experience,” he observed. “With washing cars, I mean.”

           Kristoff gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I worked part-time at the car wash one summer,” he replied. “I guess it kind of stuck.” He wiped at his brow. “I wouldn’t want to do it for a living, though.”

           “I had to…earn things by washing cars,” Agnarr said. “My father was a big believer in hard work.”

           Kristoff said nothing. He could tell by the older man’s tone that there were mixed emotions.

           Agnarr wiped the sweat off his brow, if only to not drip on his father’s Cadillac. The “beast,” as he jokingly called it, was an ostentatious symbol of his father’s wealth and practicality. It was practical in that any repairs or maintenance could be easily obtained within the town.

           As he wiped off a clear path in the baked-on wax, he saw his tired, sweaty reflection in the black depths of the “beast.” He had just spent the last four hours under the hot July sun. Every detail had been supervised by his father, who was resting in the shade with a beer. Every once in a while, his father would shout words of—

           “Come on, boy!” Runeard exclaimed. “Put your back into it! In my day, we had to deal with Blue Coral. You’ve got it easy with that wax!”

           Agnarr said nothing. His father often deducted from the anticipated payment if he talked back. It was one of the little ways that the family company kept people in line.

           It took another half hour to clear off the last of the wax. His arms trembling, he stood up straight and awaited judgment—and hopefully, payment.

           Runeard took one last draw of his beer and got up. He circled around the Cadillac and murmured in—well, it wasn’t quite approval. It was more like he acknowledged that the job had been done.

           Agnarr tried to keep calm. He didn’t dare show how eager he was to get paid. He couldn’t ever let his feelings show, not in front of his father.

           Runeard wiped his index finger down the hood and felt for any errant wax. There was one last murmur as he nodded.

           “It’ll do,” Runeard declared. With exaggerated magnanimity, he took out a twenty and handed it to Agnarr. Then the scowl returned as his nostrils flared. “Get cleaned up before you go, boy. And you’d better stay away from those filthy people.”

           Agnarr nodded once. The less his father knew about his outings with Iduna, the better.

           With one last scowl, Runeard shooed him away from the car. It was the same dismissive gesture he might have used for a servant. It certainly reinforced Agnarr’s place in the world—at least in Runeard’s mind.

           Agnarr trudged back into the house. He didn’t have to play up his muscle aches. He did have to remind himself not to smile in front of his father.

           Those long, hot hours had been worth it. The aches had been worth it.  Above all,   Iduna was worth it.

           Agnarr forced himself to take long, slow sips of the sports drink as he toweled off the sweat. The exterior had been cleaned and dried, including the wheels. All that was left was the interior and waxing the car.

           “You’re in good shape for your age, but don’t overdo it,” Iduna warned him gently. “There’s no one to show off to.”

           “I’m not showing off,” he replied. “I’m just…enjoying the moment.”

           “What moment?” she asked.

           He turned his gaze to where Kristoff was showing Anna the bottle of detailer spray and some sort of yellow clay. He sprayed the hood and wiped the clay across the surface. Then he took a microfiber towel and wiped off any residue.

           “See these little dots and specks?” Kristoff pointed to the clay bar. “These are contaminants that stick on your paint. We want to get rid of those before we polish out the swirls. After that, we put on the wax and we’re all set.” He paused. “Here, feel where I just cleaned it up.”

           Anna tentatively brushed a finger across the surface. Blue eyes widened in amazement.

           “Whoa, that’s…really smooth,” she said. “So, you do this every time you wax your truck?”

           He shook his head. “No, this is only once or twice a year. This used to be a big secret for the car shops until a few years ago.”

           Iduna turned back to Agnarr and nodded in understanding. There wasn’t a hint of arrogance or condescension in Kristoff’s voice. He merely wanted to inform Anna about something he liked.

           As the morning went on, Agnarr noted how patient Kristoff was with Anna. He was a good teacher, putting his polisher in Anna’s hands. It was obvious that Kristoff trusted her implicitly—and she felt the same about him.

           By the time they were done, Anna’s Honda had never looked better. Anna and Kristoff took a moment to bask in their shared accomplishment. The car gleamed in the light, despite the clouds coming in.

           “Good job, feisty pants,” Kristoff complimented her. “She looks great.”

           “Oh, I didn’t do all that much,” she demurred. “You and Dad did all the hard work.”

           “Oh, it’s not as hard as the old days,” Agnarr chimed in. “Believe me, I would have been a lot less sore if we had that ceramic wax back then. It’s a lot easier to take off than baked-on Turtle Wax.”

           Any further comment was forestalled when Sven sniffed the air. The big dog made a dissatisfied, grumbling sound. Moments later, the sky darkened with an ominous rumble.

           “Oh, no…” Agnarr groaned. “There wasn’t supposed to be any rain today!”

           “That figures,” Kristoff sighed heavily. He eyed the back of his truck.

           Elsa checked her phone. “Looks like there’ll be heavy showers for an hour or two.”

           “But we just finished it!” Anna groaned.

           Kristoff perked up a little. “Well, I’ve got a tarp in the back of my truck. I could cover up your car until the rain stops.”

           Anna blinked. “You’re prepared.”

           He shrugged. “Sometimes life is like that. You get little bumps in the road and do the best you can. Experience is the toughest teacher. C’mon, let’s get this done.”

           Moments later, Anna’s car was safely covered just before the deluge hit. Everyone watched the rain from inside the garage. Kristoff and Agnarr were toweling off their hair. They were both soaked form the rain.

           “Sorry it didn’t work out, sir,” Kristoff said.

           “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Agnarr replied. “I’d say that this was a very productive day.”

           Kristoff looked at him quizzically. “How so?”

           Behind him, Anna looked puzzled while Elsa looked satisfied. Clearly, something was going on.

           “Do you have anywhere you need to go?” Agnarr asked casually.

           “Not until the rain stops,” Kristoff replied. “Why do you ask?”

           “Well, until then, I suppose that you and Sven are our guests. Do you have any requests for lunch?”

           Kristoff held up his hands. “Sir, I really don’t want to impose. I’m sure you were looking forward to time with your family.”

           “I am,” Agnarr acknowledged with a nod. “Of course, this can include prospective members of my family.”

           “But Sven—“

           “He’s covered,” Elsa said. She reached in her purse and held up a can of dog food.

           Kristoff blinked as Sven leaned against Elsa. “Did you know about this?” he asked Anna.

           She shook her head. “Nope. It’s news to me.”

           “Relax,” Agnarr said calmly. “I’m not bringing out the shotgun for you two. I’m just asking if you’d like to stay for lunch.”

           “I—sure, if it’s no trouble,” he agreed.

           “No trouble at all,” Iduna reassured him. “There’s plenty in the Instant Pot to go around.” She opened the door to the house and the smell of hearty stew wafted outside.

           “Useful, isn’t it?” Elsa remarked. She paused and dug out something else from her purse. She handed a large, folded square of cloth to Kristoff. “You’ll need this.”

           He grimaced at the t-shirt he’d been handed. It wasn’t his, but it was definitely his size. The words “love expert” were boldly emblazoned on the front, complete with hearts.

           “Elsa!” Anna exclaimed.

           “Yes?” Elsa could not have pretended to be more innocent if she’d batted her eyes.

           “You are a stinker. No, you are a scheming, plotting stinker. This was a conspiracy!” Anna declared.

           Elsa and Agnarr had matching smirks. That was unsettling to both Anna and Kristoff.

           “Well, I didn’t plan on the rain,” Agnarr admitted. “You are welcome in my house.” He paused. “While you are in my house, I do expect you two to…mind your manners.”

           Agnarr turned to go inside. He only briefly paused when he passed Elsa.

           “They’re blushing, aren’t they?” he murmured.

           “Oh, yes,” Elsa agreed.

           “Good.”

           Elsa lingered for a moment, a smug little smirk on her face. Then she tapped her thigh and Sven followed her inside.

           “Your Dad really doesn’t have a shotgun, does he?”

           “I…don’t think so. I think he likes you.”

           “That’s…good,” Kristoff got out awkwardly. “I mean, it’s better than the alternative.”

           Wordlessly, Anna reached out. He gently took her hand as her eyes shone.

           “Come on, Mr. Love Expert,” she said. “Let’s have a family lunch.”

           Kristoff’s expression softened. “Sounds good to me.”

The End

[destiniesfic]

132 Hours, Chapter 7:

That’s what I think I fear most. Not the symptoms, but being out of control. My brain taking a backseat and letting my body drive.

Previous

Read chapter 7 on AO3, or read below:

“Seriously?” Cardan asks, holding up the local newspaper the Roach handed him. “We’re too cheap for the New York Times?”

“They were out,” the Roach grunts.

“This house is a nightmare,” Cardan says under his breath.

We’ve been brought out of our cell again to pose for a proof of life photo. Seated, because I can’t stand for long. Cardan is given the newspaper to prove the photo is current, although the Bomb is holding an old-fashioned Polaroid camera and I am not sure anyone will be able to make out the details. I have been asked to do nothing but sit still.

“Do you want us to smile?” Cardan asks, once the Bomb has the camera ready.

“If you want,” says the Bomb. “Go ahead.”

Cardan does. I glare daggers.

“Well, he’ll know it’s her,” the Bomb remarks. With a gloved, almost dainty hand, she pulls the Polaroid out and sets it on top of the minifridge to develop.

“Why did you smile?” I hiss.

Cardan shrugs. “Just because we’re hostages doesn’t mean we have to look like we’re having a bad time.”

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“Couple more,” says the Bomb, raising her camera again. “Bear with me.”

We do, as she snaps a couple more photos, presumably ones where I don’t look so much like I’m about to strangle Cardan. She takes the best ones and slides them into an envelope, which she seals shut with a little water on her gloved finger. No fingerprints, no saliva, no DNA. Just proof of life.

Cardan notices, too. “You’re pretty good at this crime thing,” he tells her. “Ever think about doing it for a living?”

“It’s really just a hobby for now,” she says dryly, handing the envelope to the Ghost, who heads up the stairs and out to deliver it who-knows-where.

“Looks like a full-blown side-gig to me,” Cardan returns.

The Bomb shrugs. “Well, this economy.”

I wonder if I should be alarmed or encouraged that our captors are beginning to genuinely like him.

It’s already late, after a long, mostly-silent stretch of afternoon in the cell, so we are fed and watered and allowed to relieve ourselves once more before we’re put away again. The Roach offers to help me walk, but I manage to make my way around the basement and eventually hobble to the mattress without assistance. It’s not dignified, but at least I maintain a scrap of my dignity.

Before the Roach is able to lock us in for the night, though, Cardan catches the door in his hand and leans forward. He’s whispering, but the room is small enough that I can hear him anyway. “Hey, um, so, can I have my drugs back?”

Around Cardan’s shoulders, I see the Roach’s face split into a terrible grin. “Nah,” he says. “But nice try.”

And then he closes the door and leaves us alone.

Cardan rubs a hand over his face and goes to sit in his corner. I am staring at him. “You wanted to get high? Now?”

“I had some O on me when they took us,” he says. “Good quality stuff. Pure. Synthetic, obviously.” He glances at me.

“Sure,” I say. It’s never really sat right with me that people have figured out how to distill some of the compounds in pheromones—O for omega, A for alpha—and that other, richer people now use them as party drugs, but, hey, at least it’s hard to overdose. And synthetic means the chemicals weren’t harvested from anybody, so, ethically sourced high. In theory.

I’ve never tried A, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Taryn has by now. Locke is not a good influence.

“Actually, I was thinking of trying to dull my receptors, in light of…” He waves a hand. “Well, tomorrow being what it is, you…”

“Oh,” I say quietly.

“Nic always said I’d ruin them if I indulged too much.” It’s dark, so I can’t see his facial expression very well, but I make out his silhouette slumping against the wall. “Thought I’d finally take that bet.”

It takes me a second to realize he means Nicasia, his ex-girlfriend. Still his friend, though. I think. It’s weirdly humanizing, the idea that he has a nickname for somebody he likes. It makes him more of a person. “You call her Nic?” I ask. “I’ve never heard anyone call her that before.”

“Well, no. You’re not allowed. It’s a special privilege.”

I snicker but don’t reply, looking down at my hands instead. Tomorrow morning will be three days since I took my last suppressant. Two days since I woke up in this cell, locked in with Cardan. I’m about guaranteed to go into heat, and I don’t know what will happen after that. Whether I’ll have enough presence of mind to care about what will happen. If I will even be myself.

That’s what I think I fear most. Not the symptoms. Not even that I might end up mating with Cardan, of all people. But being out of control. My brain taking a backseat and letting my body drive.

“Jude?” Cardan asks quietly.

I don’t want to talk about it. Not with him. Not now. So I shift to a more comfortable seat against my wall and say nothing.

But he surprises me by asking, “Did you mean what you said before? Do you really blame me for what happened with Valerian?”

“Yes.” But there’s a twinge in my chest as I remember the shock on his face, the way he avoided my eyes the rest of the day. I had struck my mark, but at what cost? As he said, it’s not like he was actually there. I press the heel of my palm into my eye. “No. Maybe. I don’t know, Cardan. You didn’t help.”

“Yeah, but like…” I hear him flick at some dust on the floor. “I didn’t know, you know? I didn’t know what he was going to do. If I had known, I would have stopped him.”

I blink in his direction. “I thought you did know,” I say abruptly, and I don’t quite realize how true that is until I say it aloud. That Cardan, who has historically masterminded so much misery, must be behind this, too.

“What?”

“After Locke…” I pick at one of the scratchy blankets. “I mean, Valerian was first, but then when it turned out Locke was trying to get with me and Taryn, I thought it was some awful competition between the three of you. Who could get in my pants first, or make me most miserable, or…”

“No, no.” Cardan actually has the audacity to look shocked. “Jude, I know that I can be a miserable son of a bitch sometimes, but there are lines.”

“Are there? You never acted like it. You insulted me every chance you got. You pushed me into a fountain.”

He chuckles weakly. “That again?”

“It was cold,” I grumble, crossing my arms. “I was cold all day. And I had to lie to my dad.”

And I don’t add the part that hurt most—that he said he was sick of smelling me and I needed to wash off. I can’t control how I smell to him. In fact, I always resented him for smelling so good to me when we clearly weren’t a match. It’s a little easier to get over since he’s so terrible, but it sucks to know that my body picked someone out who could not be clearer about his lack of reciprocation. A defect in me. Something else I can’t control.

“Well, yeah, but there’s a huge difference between that and rape.” He falls quiet for a second, then says, “I’m glad you defended yourself. I am. And I do admire you for that. That’s all.”

“Then you’re crazy. I don’t think anyone else does, aside from Madoc.” I look down. “It’s not what omegas are supposed to do. Fight back. Fight at all.”

I hear Cardan flick another dustbunny. “You know what Balekin said about it?”

My shoulders tense. I know that word of the whole thing had spread through the school like wildfire, even though the disciplinary meeting we had with the principal was supposed to have been confidential, but there’s a difference between knowing and hearing that Cardan’s older brother, of all people, had an opinion. “What did he say?” I ask slowly, dreading the answer.

“He said, ‘I don’t know what Madoc was thinking, sending those girls to your school.’ Like it was just something that was bound to happen.” I feel a little nauseated, but Cardan continues, “That didn’t sit right with me. I mean, you’d been going to school with alphas for ten years. You had alpha teachers. I mean, we had classes together for six years, and I never thought to—”

“Yeah,” I say quietly. “You’ve been very clear about that.”

“No, but—ugh.” Cardan runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I think Valerian was wrong. And Balekin was wrong. And you were right. I’d just never thought about it like that before.”

I sigh. “What do you want, a cookie? For thinking I deserve basic human rights?”

In the darkness, I see him wince. “You don’t pull punches, do you?”

“Not anymore.” I lean forward and run my hands over my bandages. The Ghost had done a good job with them. “I did mean what I said about you making it worse. Maybe you didn’t know what Valerian was going to do. Maybe you didn’t egg him on. But you upheld that hierarchy, you know. Strongest alphas on top, omegas on the bottom. You benefited from it.”

“Well, it’s just the—”

“The way things are. I know.” I exhale. “It’s not how they have to be.”

Cardan is quiet for a while. “Valerian liked to hurt people,” he says at last. “Anyone. Animals, even. It was his main alpha trait, that aggression. ‘Couldn’t be helped,’ according to his, I think, third psychiatrist. I think we all thought if we could direct that, use it for our benefit, point him in a direction like—I don’t know, an arrow…”

“Sounds like you need better friends,” I say. Managing Valerian sounds like trying to leash a rabid dog, and I truly do not envy him that. Hoping the dog will only bite other people is selfish and awful, but also bound to fail.

“I haven’t spoken to him since what he did to you.” His voice is unexpectedly firm. Again, he surprises me. “Tried to do, I mean. I told Nic and Locke to cut him off, too. He’s basically dead to us.”

“Oh.” I squint at him, feeling—I don’t know what I’m feeling. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“But he was your friend.”

“Well…” Cardan taps his finger on the floor. “Maybe I don’t want a friend like that.”

I sit with that admission for a moment, trying to make it square with what I know of Cardan outside these walls. It’s almost like there are two of him: the awful one wreaking havoc outside, and the one in here, with me, who sounds almost on the verge of apologizing. Who uses his alpha charm for good on our kidnappers. Who reads books. Who almost seems to care.

“Your other friends are also kind of shitty,” I point out. “Didn’t Nicasia cheat on you? With Locke?”

Cardan shrugs. “Nic’s not so bad. Locke cheated on her with you and your sister, so I consider us pretty much even for that. Locke, though…” He sighs. “I wish he’d just admit he has a crush on me and get over it.”

I let out a shocked, choked laugh. “What?”

“What other explanation is there for him making out with pretty much anyone I’ve ever really liked?”

I had known about Nicasia, but it sounds like there are others I don’t know about. Still, must be nice, being Cardan, having that kind of confidence in someone being mean because they like you. “He’s a douchebag?” I suggest.

“Maybe,” Cardan says. “Too easy, though. I want complex, psychological drama, Duarte. I want homoerotic CW drama.”

“It sounds like you want Locke to put his tongue in your mouth.”

“I mean, for the experience, sure. Frankly, I’m a little offended he hasn’t tried.”

My cheeks hurt, and I realize I am smiling. How is he getting inside my guard so easily? Saying a few nice things about admiring my tenacity isn’t enough to negate years of schoolyard warfare. It feels good, though. Maybe even better because the person delivering the compliment is totally unexpected.

“Fine,” I sigh.

“Fine what?”

“You’re clearly angling to get your spot on the mattress back. It’s working.” I lean over as far as I can and pat the empty half. “Come on. Probably the last night you can sleep here.”

“You sure?”

It’s funny how I can now tell he’s raising his eyebrow just from the way he asks the question. It’s not a soft, gentle ask—like he’s worried about spooking me—but a sardonic one. Almost a challenge. So even if he is worried about spooking me, he’s spared my pride. I appreciate that.

This is the most I have actually ever spoken to Cardan Greenbriar. It turns out he’s kind of fun.

I shrug. “Sure. Either we’re going to be keeping our distance and you’ll have to take the floor tomorrow, or we’ll be too busy humping to sleep. Like bunnies. Might as well make the most of it while you can.”

Cardan kicks his shoes off, then sits down next to me on the mattress with a grunt. “I think it’s more like wolves,” he says, grinning. “Or dogs. On account of the—”

“Knot.” I visibly shudder. “I know. Gross.”

His grin widens. “Absolutely disgusting.”

I have to take a breath. This is a very specific heat/rut thing, the knot of it all, and most non-heat sex doesn’t trigger it. It is also one of the things I have looked forward to least about eventual sex-having, eventual partner-having. I had kind of hoped I’d get to practice without it. “But all kinds of sex acts sound gross when you break them down on a technical level,” I say, trying to reassure myself. “So maybe it’s not so bad.”

“Maybe.” Cardan props one of the pillows against the wall and settles down on his back, his arms crossed behind head. A model of comfort, of ease. I wonder how much he is faking. No one could be that cool in our situation.

I am quiet for a moment, looking up at the ceiling as though I can still count the criss-crossing pipes that run along it like country roads. “Does it bother you that you won’t ever have a mate? Not that you won’t mate, just that you probably can’t have a… like a mate mate?”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cardan tilt his chin up toward me. “Does it bother you?”

“It’s different for me. You know that.” I don’t lie down next to him just yet, but I do look at him. His shirt’s hitched up a little above his jeans, exposing a line of his flat stomach, the ridge of a hip bone. “Everyone I know is an alpha. I’ll probably end up married to one. I could be…” I trail off. “I don’t even know if I like the idea. Being tied to someone like that.”

“Being knotted to them, you mean?” I give him a little shove, and he laughs, then says, “Marriage is tying yourself to somebody too, you know.”

“I know. But not on a biochemical level.”

They used to call the connection between mates a “soul bond” for how deep it goes, how sensitive it makes you to the other person, their moods, their wants. We know more now about how the actual chemicals at play work, which has demystified a lot of it. There’s still a kind of romance to it anyway, I guess. But mating bonds are really difficult to undo, so how are you supposed to know that the person you bite is the right one? What if you choose wrong? At least with marriage there’s divorce. Like many things, a mating bond is something I’d resigned myself to going without, although it would give me a measure of basic protection I don’t currently have.

“I’ve thought about it,” Cardan admits. “I think everyone expects me to eventually end up with Nic still, even though… y’know, and in that case I could have someone else on the side, maybe. It’s pretty common. Or I could be like your dad and marry an omega anyway.”

I snort. “Yeah, that worked out really well for everyone.”

“You know, with what we learned today, Vivi’s theory—”

“I know,” I say quickly. “I don’t want to think about it.” Because that’s how I deal with these things. I don’t think of them until I have the time and space to handle them, which may be never, and definitely isn’t now. The last thing I need is to lie awake thinking about how Madoc might be involved in all sorts of unsavory things, up to and including arranging my parents’ murder.

Cardan does not seem to be giving this the same consideration. “Do you think Madoc and your mother were mates?”

I shudder. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Vivi had to happen somehow.”

I slide down the wall to my pillow and make a small keening noise into my hands. “That doesn’t mean they were mates. I think Madoc would have found us a lot sooner if they were.”

“You mean he would have sniffed her out.”

“Yeah.” I frown, slipping briefly into memory. “My parents really loved each other, though. I remember that. They’d smile at each other, they’d kiss before my mom left for work, they—” My throat seems to close, and I swallow.

“Must be nice,” Cardan says under his breath. I’m not sure I’m supposed to hear it.

I look down at my hands. I rarely allow myself the remembrances of my mom’s smile, my dad’s arm looped casually behind her when we watched movies on the couch. They were both omegas. They were happy. “I guess I talked myself out of my point. Mates aren’t the end-all be-all of…”

Either Cardan is oblivious to my musings or he’s trying to spare me from them, because he continues, “I mean, regular sex is pretty fun. The not-heat kind. The not-mate kind.”

“It is?” I ask, trying not to let the question strangle itself in my throat. “So… are you saying you’re good at it? I should know, before—if this is all going to happen.”

His face screws up in thought. “I’d like to think so,” he muses. “T-B-H, it’s hard to get honest feedback when you have this much money. Girls, boys, alphas, omegas, they all tell you what they think you want to hear. Although Nic wouldn’t let me slack off in bed, so yeah, I think I know my way around.”

“Oh, well, good. That’s great.” I sink further down and pull my blanket to my chest, looking up at the ceiling. “If my hormones don’t render me totally incoherent, I’ll give you a rating.”

Cardan cracks another smile. “Out of five stars? Like an Uber?”

“Sure. You know. ‘Smooth ride, good driver.’” I cover my face with my hands. “God.”

“Maybe you won’t have to,” he says. “Maybe it’ll be okay. I mean, sure, we are living out the exact set-up of half the alpha/omega porn I’ve ever watched, but that doesn’t guarantee anything. Remember that movie everyone was buzzing about a couple of years ago, where they got stuck in the elevator but he held off?”

“That was a movie, with actors. Not a documentary.”

“Still, we’re dealing with, what? An elevator-and-a-half, two elevators of space? Could work out in our favor.”

I pull my hands down and look over at him. “Unlikely,” I say. “But sure.”

Cardan studies me, then turns onto his side and reaches out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry,” he says, and I am struck dumb, thinking he’s apologizing for everything he’s done to me. But he adds, “Just in case something does happen. I know… I know this isn’t what you want.”

Well, that isn’t nothing. I shrug. With him so close, smelling like he does, looking like he does, I almost think I could do worse. “I mean, it’s not like I’m your first choice.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him purse his full lips. “Still, I wanted you to know.”

I turn onto my side to face him directly. “When’s the last time you apologized to anybody?”

“When I wasn’t forced to by an authority figure, you mean?” A little crease forms between his brows. “I honestly don’t remember.”

Definitely not nothing. I don’t feel better, but I could feel worse. “Can you do one thing for me?” I ask, and it comes out a whisper, like I’m a frightened child.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice equally soft, which just makes the whole thing even more horrible. That he’s not being what I thought. That he’s not being cruel.

I swallow, but make myself say it. “Don’t hurt me on purpose.”

Cardan’s lips part. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, Jude.”

I turn over, giving him my back. I don’t want to look at his face anymore. As much as I want to hear him say he is sorry, I don’t want to see him feel sorry for me.

Next

[fancyfearful]

Terms of Service (Celia Lede x Gender Neutral! Reader)

(Happy International Women’s Day/Women’s History Month, y’all! Please enjoy some quality fun time with a true girlboss.)

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WARNING/DISCLAIMER: Mature/Explicit themes, and ‘potential simp behavior’ are in this fic. Celia is a queen, idc.

Word Count: 2,042

(Edit: I forgot to tag @gatobob​ , who owns this character, whoops!)

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            You were scared at first.

            After all, you had gone from being naked and terrified in a dimly lit showroom, to waking up several hours later in a rundown, abandoned office building located far away from your home. A pair of handcuffs kept your wrists bound behind your back, but whomever kidnapped you had been 'generous' enough to dress you in semi-casual office clothes, though they were a bit too loose on your body.

               The only thing you knew was that the person responsible for bringing you here had the voice of a matured woman. However, the sound of sharp heels clicking against the ground warned you of their arrival, seconds before she entered the small breakroom where you were being kept.

               Upon meeting the well-dressed, businesswoman for the first time, you learned a few things. Her name was Celia and she was noticeably taller than the average woman, even with her heels on. But if looks could kill, then the mocha-colored eyes that looked over your body would've ended your life in seconds. You weren't sure if she was tired, irritated or both but regardless, Celia staring at your body made you feel uncomfortable.

               During her 'introduction', Celia informed you that your new purpose in life was to be her personal stress reliever, and that resistance of any kind was unacceptable, including trying to escape. She also pointed out something you had somehow missed earlier; an ankle bracelet attached to your leg. With a knowing smirk, Celia informed you that it came with a built in GPS to make sure that you wouldn't be able to leave without her knowledge. The brunette before you also mentioned something about several other 'secrets' that you'd find out about later, which did nothing to calm your nerves as she casually reached into the hidden pocket on her overshirt.

            Celia pulled out a thin, bright red dog collar, dangling it between her fingers before making her way over to fasten it around your neck. She had made it a little too tight on purpose, and when she stepped back to see how it looked, the brunette couldn’t help but scoff.

             “There, now you look like the dog you are. I hope for your sake you’ll be easier to train than the last one. It’d be a shame if I had to put down another pet…” Celia warned, dropping her voice to emphasize her point.

                 “Now, how about we teach you some new tricks?”

*****  

               The next few days had gone by faster than you expected, thanks to Celia’s rigorous training.

            Most of your time was spent acting as living footrest or chair, while she took her sweet time reading through and answering important, work-related emails. If Celia had a good workday, you’d play games like fetch, where she’d reward you with cookies shaped like dog biscuits if you did well. But if you didn’t retrieve an item fast enough, your cruel captor would deliver punishment by whipping your back and torso with her chain flogger. And on bad workdays, you’d be subjected to a game of ‘cat and mouse’, where Celia gave you a few seconds to hide before hunting you down; if you were found in six minutes or less, she would beat you to the point of bruising with the nearest blunt object in the room. The stapler was quickly becoming one of her favourites items to carry around, and even a good workday couldn’t save you from whenever Celia felt the urge to watch you squirm. Her eyes practically lit up whenever she subjected you to several new piercings on your arms or legs, a high only the most forbidden of drugs could provide.

            But today—or night, you couldn’t exactly tell what time of day it was down here—was different.

           The familiar, yet haunting, sound of heels clacking along the ground was replaced by something that sounded firmer, and heavier in comparison. And for the first time since your arrival, you were worried that someone or something even worse than Celia would find you here.

             However, seeing the familiar face of Celia suddenly appear in the doorway of the shabby office that had become your bedroom was bittersweet. But instead of her usual business attire, she donned a skin-tight, black body suit with thigh-high stockings, and her trademark red heels were replaced with thick, black wedges. Sure, you had noticed her figure from time to time, but the sudden style change made it even harder to look away. Instead, you tried to focus on the medium sized bag she was holding in her left hand.

                 “Ah, there’s my favourite dog. You look surprised to see me.” Celia says, making her way into the room before plopping herself down onto the desk nearby.

            Her tone sounded lower than usual, and the end of her words were a bit slurred. If you had to guess, she had probably had a few drinks before coming here, something that wasn’t uncommon. Whenever it happened, Celia was a bit of a wildcard. She motioned for you to come closer, making you gulp nervously as she reached into her bag to retrieve a long chain with a clasp at the end. Sheepishly, you avoid eye contact while Celia attaches it to the collar around your neck, grinning proudly before she roughly tugs on your new leash.

            “Now you’re really starting to look like a proper pet!” she comments, only to pat your head in a condescending manner. “And so well behaved too, isn’t that right?”

            You nod slowly, feeling your cheeks burn in shame. This wasn’t right. Her backhanded compliments shouldn’t have affected you like this, but these moments with Celia were the only times you could interact with another living being. It was better than trying to keep a stray pill bug for company again, only for it to end up escaping.

               “You should be grateful, you know. I turned you into something useful, something with value…” Celia adds, keeping one hand on your chain while the other tightly cupped your chin. “I saved you from being someone’s pathetic plaything. And yet I still have to tell you when to say ‘thank you’. How is that fair to me? Shouldn’t you know better by now?”

          You nodded again, only to be struck across the face with a harsh slap.           “Answer me!” Celia snarled, her face scrunched up in annoyance. She was losing her patience, and that was the last thing you wanted her to do.

                “Y-Yes, miss Celia. I’m sorry for not knowing better.” You replied. “Thank you for giving me value.”

       “Good! See, that’s what I like about you. You’re a quick learner, but there’s still something I’ve got to put to the test.” The brunette murmured, letting go of your chin before she pointed to the floor. “On your knees, pet. Let’s see if that face is as comfortable as it looks.”

               You were visibly confused as you tried to process her request. Did she mean what you thought she meant, or--?

“Are you deaf? Because I’m pretty sure I just gave you a task to complete. And if you can’t do it, then I’ll replace you with someone who can...” Celia commanded, her voice booming and steady. It was the kind of tone that could melt you within seconds or break you without warning.

               As quickly as you could, you dropped to your knees, trying to the ignore the dull ache that came with having them hit the floor too hard. Celia wound the excess length of your chain around her hand a few times, before yanking you towards the space between her parted legs. A muffled grunt escaped you as Celia’s legs wrapped around your neck and shoulders, keeping your face pinned against the smooth leather of her body suit while she kept an iron grip around your chain. The sweet scent of a strong smelling body spray invaded your nose, and although you wouldn’t admit it out loud, the fragrance was alluring.

“Well, pet? I’m waiting. Show me how grateful you are to be here.”

 It was at that moment that you started to think she was right. Not because you didn’t miss your old life, or your freedom but because in a weird, twisted way, serving Celia gave you a purpose. And all things considered, your kidnapper could’ve been much worse; she kept you fed, clothed, and even though the building was falling apart, it still provided shelter from the elements.

               And with this in mind, you started to kiss along her inner thighs, turning your face and neck as much as Celia’s grip would allow. She wiggled a little, smirking as she watched her current pet creep closer and closer towards one of her most sensitive areas, making the brunette smirk deviously.

With a shaky sigh, Celia pressed her hips forward, testing the waters of her new toy by lightly grinding her crotch against your face. The combination of your tightened collar, Celia’s thighs, and the added pressure of that damned leash was making it difficult to breathe, but Celia didn’t care about your declining oxygen supply. If anything, your struggling only made her legs clench even tighter, and you could barely make out the twisted pleasure on her face as she slowly tried to suffocate you, her eyes twinkling in delight while she leaned back a little.

          Your tongue pressed itself up against the thin fabric covering over her body suit, earning an unexpected moan from your mistress before you closing any distance that remained between you two. Any other time, Celia would have punished you for touching her without permission, but in the heat of the moment, your hands wrapped themselves around her thighs, digging your nails into her stocking as your mouth worked to pleasure her as best as you could. 

         Paying attention to the sounds she made was paying off, making it a little easier to find her sweet spots, but you didn’t dare to move the dampened leather covering over her opening. Not without her say, at least.

         But the loud moans and high pitched whines coming from your captor were enough to awaken something in you as well; a small part of Celia was at your mercy, and this was a chance you couldn’t pass up. And so, you doubled down on your efforts, licking, kissing, suckling, and nibbling on every ounce of flesh and fabric between Celia’s warm, plush thighs, using your tongue to express the gratitude that she craved.

           Eventually, your efforts paid off in the form of a loud, breathy moan from Celia as she shuddered, clenching her legs around you so tight that your vision went black for a second or two. The bottom of her body suit was absolutely soaked with a mixture of her own juices, your saliva, and a bit of sweat between you both, yet the pleased chuckle Celia let out calmed your nerves. She only made that sound when something good happened.

            “…Ooh…Haven’t done something like in ages…” she sighed as she relaxed her grip.

            You were able to catch a glimpse of her face, her cheeks tinted bright red as she moved lose strands of hair away from her eyes. The firm, hardened expression typically worn by Celia had been temporarily replaced with a softer, more inviting expression. If it didn’t put you at risk to get kicked, you might even have kissed her. Nothing serious, as it just would have a quick peck on those plump, dark colored lips.

               “Don’t look so lovestruck, dog. Just because I had a few drinks before showing up and felt like trying something new doesn’t mean that you’re walking out of here anytime soon. You’re mine for as long as I want you to be.” Celia huffed, yanking on the chain to remind you of your place. And with a sheepish smile, you nodded.

            “Yes, miss Celia. Of course. Thank you.”

                        How you ended up in her possession was irrelevant. It didn't matter.

           What did matter, was your value. Your worth. It was about what you could do for Celia, not the other way around. It was about acknowledging your rightful place under the command of a superior entity, and that entity was her.

[ducktracy]

177. dog daze (1937)

release date: september 18th, 1937

series: merrie melodies

director: friz freleng

starring: mel blanc (police dog, spitz, russian wolf hounds), billy bletcher (st. bernard), berneice hansell (puppy)

around this time, friz freleng left warner bros. to reconnect with his former co-workers and friends, hugh harman and rudolf ising, over at MGM. he’d serve a relatively short stint as director there, coming back to WB as soon as april 1939. the backlog of friz cartoons would trickle out until early 1938, where he would then be replaced by ben hardaway and cal dalton. friz has seniority at the studio, going as far back as animating for the 1929 pilot bosko, the talk-ink kid. while this isn’t his last cartoon, it remains an intriguing talking point! he’d make his biggest splash upon his return, directing a number of great black and white porky cartoons and making other little-known characters such as yosemite sam and sylvester, to name a select few. let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, now: here, we’re treated to a number of spot-gags involving dogs—including a drunken st. bernard.

patrons stream into a theater advertising the local dog show. it’s not a ‘30′s cartoon without a celebrity caricature of some sort--a lumbering caricature of humorist/author irvin s. cobb moseys along down the street with his identical looking bulldog. he’s followed by william powell and his pooch asta, both featured relatively prominently in speaking of the weather just 2 shorts ago. and, furthering the connection to the aforementioned cartoon, we get another gag implying that the dog took a leak on a nearby pole: powell marches past a spare pole, when suddenly his leash is yanked from behind, leaving the audience to read between the lines.

another gag that is more reminiscent of the early days of animation: your stereotypical “fat lady” gag, underscored by a rather sardonic rendition of “oh, you beautiful doll”. the woman, in an attempt to fit into the seats, ends up shoving the entire row out of the way. not much to add here: fatphobia funny, right? (eyeroll)

cue the dog puns as we get a look at the line-up for the dog show. a bird dog (as in, dogs who hunt birds) is taken to its literal meaning, perched in a cage and whistling like a bird. the next pen over is an irish setter (sitter, get it?) perched on top of a nest. mama crawls out of the nest to reveal a line of eggs. one by one, they all hatch to reveal a trio of energetic, yappy puppies. points for surrealism. 

next up, a disembodied voice cries “RAIN BLOW THROUGH THE MOUNTAIN!”, curtains withdrawing to reveal a police dog donning a mountie uniform, howling (its howls, of course, provided by mel blanc). this is a reference to the ever popular renfrew of the mounted, a ‘30′s book and radio series about a singing mountie--frank tashlin’s porky in the north woods even served as an ode to it. after that features a spitz hound, chewing on a glob of tobacco and lobbing it at a spitoon. amusing at first, this gag quickly wears its welcome as its featured in a number of other cartoons. spitting gags themselves were more along the lines of the earlier ‘30′s cartoons, right at home in the cruder days of the early harman and ising films.

 a st. bernard booze hound is next to be revealed, drunkenly singing a wordless rendition of “how dry i am”. billy bletcher’s deep bellow is a perfect match for such a big dog: the dog, rather pluto-esque as we’ll come to recognize, will return throughout the picture. the animation of it is rather nice--the physics on the floppy jowls are great. after a fit of hiccups, the dog giggles bashfully.

so, to counteract that high of the dog, our next pooch?

oh, sweet hilarity!

time to make room for more puns, this time plastered on the curtain. the curtain advertises groaners such as “come see our itchings -- canine art galleries”, “are you in the dog house? get a new leash on life supply co.”, and so forth. the spotlight takes its sweet time to roam around each pun, allowing it to really sink in. complete with close-ups! i’m watching the newly restored version on hbomax (which looks gorgeous, by the way), and so i don’t know if it’s the fault of the restoration or if the original print had this issue, but the close-ups are a bit blurry, as if they were having some problems with the double-exposure effects. 

with eye-rolling puns out of the way (and i say this as a shameless pun lover), the audience is treated to a variety of k-9 vaudeville acts, starting with a pair of scottie dogs, who perform the highland fling. personally, i like the camel’s version better in porky in egypt. the spacing of the animation isn’t well distributed here--the movement feels too mechanical. 

the scotties are replaced by a pair of russian wolf hounds, who look like sticks when viewed from the front--a common place gag. animation of the hounds doing the hopak fares better than the scotties, and the barks at the end of the musical phrases are at least passably amusing. as the performance wraps up, the ushankas worn by the hounds turn out to be little black dogs curled up in a ball--once more, a tried and true gag that calls back to the days of the harman and ising era. 

just when we think we’ve had enough groaners: the next act, titled “dog eat dog” features a... wait for it! a dog eating a hotdog. at least the ironic commentary by the sarcastic, pitchy, violin rendition of “where oh where has my little dog gone” alerts us to some self-awareness regarding how lame the gag is. thankfully, the next gag at least got a polite chuckle out of me: the act titled “little man you’ve had a busy day” (in reference to the popular song of the same name) showcases a dog panting and flashing a guilty smile, a line of poles in the backgrounds. two piss jokes in one short! that must be a record! 

what could be considered the song portion of the short follows next, a group of prarie dogs singing “my little buckaroo” with alternate, dog-inclusive lyrics (mentioning pedigrees and the like). the drunken st. bernard from before cringes at the act, howling and carrying on. a hand off-screen shoves a muzzle on him to shut him up (don’t tell PETA!), prompting the dog to force it free. 

instead, the dog accidentally ricochets himself into an open trunk (labeled johnson skating act, a reference to background artist johnny johnson, most commonly associated with tex avery). and, as to be expected, the dog emerges from the trunk slipping and sliding on a pair of roller skates. the animation of the dog on the roller skates is certainly the high point of the short--even the dog’s emergence just slides like butter. definitely worthy of a frame-by-frame watch. 

the prarie dogs finish up the remainder of their song (once more bitten by the double-exposure bug, still wondering if that’s the restoration or the original print?), just in time to allow a shanghaied skating pup to slide across the stage. more great animation of the dog struggling on his skates as he slides into the other wing, his struggle animated on ones (you’ll also note the sign in the background advertising a gross of anvils). he eventually topples over, the barrel on his chest keeping him going until he crashes into a wall. the few smear frames leads me to believe that this is ken harris at work, though i’m far from confident on that claim.

even more great animation as the dog, pluto-esque in his struggle and frustration, struggles to get back onto his feet, his drunken hiccups sending him falling each time. i love when he resorts to grabbing his ass by his teeth to lift himself up, giving a self-satisfied grin at the camera before falling right back down again. frustrated, the dog grovels in his humility, a welcome burst of comedic timing as he shoves the lower half of his body down in frustration, free to mope and ponder in peace. 

next up serves as a rather deliberate callback to one of friz’s most monumental pictures (in notoriety, not quite in quality)--his 1935 entry i haven’t got a hat, that most famously marks the debut of everyone’s (okay, MY) favorite porcine. a shy little puppy timidly pokes her head out from a cardboard standee, clearly in no rush to get out on stage. ken harris’ animation of her resisting the push of the disembodied arm is full of character: her facial expression creased with worry is relatively scribner-esque, another bonus. 

finally, she’s thrown out on stage... facing the wrong way. a whistle summons her to turn around, where she recites “mary had a little lamb”, her squeaky vocals provided by none other than berneice hansell. she starts off... and, in an avery-esque break of character, growls to stage left “awww... this is SILLY!” a book is thrown at her in response. 

in the midst of the puppy’s recital (which is cleverly underscored by “puppchen”), the drunken dog from before still engages in his battle to get up. once more, the animation is more than a treat to look at: the dog, fueled with fury, scrambles to his feet with a running start. the animation glides as effortlessly as the dog, but something off-screen catches his attention: a trunk containing a flea circus.

as you can surely guess, dog crashes, and the fleas miraculously fly (suspension of disbelief!) out of the trunk, ready to cause trouble. in another ode to i haven’t got a hat, where porky was the one mixing up two poems in a recital, the reciting puppy mixes up her nursery rhymes (”mary had a little lamb, the mouse ran up the clock. and anywhere the lamb would go, hickory dickory dock!”) while watching a flea buzz dangerously close to her vicinity, eyes rotating 360 degrees and all.

inevitably, the flea strikes, and the puppy gives a strained remainder of her recital, itching all the way. the main ode to i haven’t got a hat stems here--the puppy’s voice grows exceedingly higher in pitch, the animation of her pacing from side-to-side and eventually off stage directly reused fom the short. it should be noted that, in the original scene, another hansell-voiced animal (little kitty) was giving the same recital of mary had a little lamb. this scene has the benefit of better animation and a little bit more humor, but it’s an interesting callback to such an important cartoon.

fade out and back in to the remainder of the fleas, who are having a hell of a time sopping up the spilled alcohol from the st. bernard’s barrel. one flea fishes in the liquor, another swimming, one more even licking it up straight from the source. the short comes to an end on a quartet of drunken fleas, singing a shrill, obnoxious, hiccup-ridden rendition of “how dry i am”. iris out.

i will admit that, as i reviewed this, the cartoon slowly warmed up to me. i wasn’t at all charmed by the first half: the puns are rather lame, the timing is bloated and slow, and it lacks direction, even for a spot-gag cartoon. it feels overwhelmingly half-hearted: when a director or its crew lacks enthusiasm, that absence is certainly felt. yet, the second half of the short definitely thawed my otherwise cold review. the animation of the st. bernard on roller skates is some absolutely gorgeous stuff. it’s very smooth, very funny, and very tactile. moreover, the puppy’s recital of “mary had a little lamb” was very fun and amusing--berneice hansell never fails to win me over with her vocals. with that said, however, i wouldn’t really recommend this cartoon: there are too many other good friz cartoons to check out. it lacks enthusiasm and conviction, and feels more like a relic of the past, from the prevalence of billy bletcher and berneice hansell (who dominated the pre-blanc cartoons) to the harman and ising-esque gags to the deliberate callbacks to i haven’t got a hat. mainly, i would persuade you to check out the second half for the animation of the roller-skating dog, and maybe add the recital sequence as an extra incentive. but, for now, this is a largely unremarkable cartoon that you can skip without feeling too slighted.

yet, with that said: the short is available on hbomax if you have it, where i got the screenshots from! if not, you can check out a lower-quality version here. better than nothing! 

[whettlossguide]

General Dog Care

Do you have a dog in your house currently, or did you own one previously? If so, you are already familiar with the joys of owning these fantastic pets. But like everything else in life, having a little bit of knowledge can go a long way to make owning a dog more rewarding. Read on to find some new advice.

Avoid kisses and stick with hugs. Kissing a dog might seem cute, but they have dirty mouths. Dogs will eat their own waste, dine on garbage, and gulp water straight from your toilet. Many people believe that dogs’ mouths do not have as much germs as humans’ mouths. It is not necessarily true.

Always neuter or spay your pet. Studies have shown that this leads to the pet living a longer and much healthier life. Additionally, dogs who undergo this procedure are much less likely to wander off and maybe get into to an accident.

Dog-proof your home. Prior to bringing your dog into your home, be sure that it is entirely safe. Make sure all of the medicine is put away and the cleaning supplies are up and safe. Some house plants are poisonous, so keep them away from your dog’s reach or remove them.

TIP! Make sure your house is free of doggy danger. Before bringing your dog home for the first time, make sure that the entire area is completely safe.

Whenever you bring your dog along on vacations, take a quick snapshot of him and keep it on your phone. If he is ever separated from you, it will be easy to show people what he looks like or print out flyers with a recent picture showing that you are looking for him.

Rather than purchasing an actual meat bone for your dog, go with rawhide instead. Giving them actual bones may cause them to fall apart and become lodged in the digestive tract or oral cavity of your dog. Rawhide is a great treat you can use in lieu of real bones.

If your dog must be outside, build him a house. Exposure to extreme weather for long periods can cause health issues, particularly if the dog’s feet get wet. Keep your dog out of the wet weather and the wind by building a shelter that keeps them dry and gives them room.

Go on and hug your dog, but do not kiss him. Kissing a dog might seem cute, but they have dirty mouths. Dogs love to dig in garbage, get into the toilet, and then they lick their butts, yuck! Keep in mind that an animal’s mouth is full of germs. It simply is not the case.

TIP! Hugs are great, but avoid kisses. Your dog’s mouth is fairly dirty at any given time.

Be sure your dog is physically active. Exercise and play are necessary for a dog. They keep the dog fit and healthy, both physically and mentally. Get out and do something with your dog. Go for a walk or play fetch. Exercising with your dog will help you establish a bond with it.

Make an appointment with a good vet right after getting a new dog. Make an appointment as early as possible. Your dog will get a vaccination schedule and a checkup. Set up an appointment to have your dog fixed, too.

Really show your dog some love. Similar to other areas of life, dog owners notice a dog’s bad behavior rather than the good. This could cause lots of problems for you. Rather, be sure to give praise five times more frequently than you reprimand. When you do this, you will probably end up with a better behaved dog.

If your dog does something the correct way, such as sitting before you put the leash on, make sure that you give it tons of affection and praise. Always make sure your dog knows when they perform a behavior you wish to see repeated. It also teaches your dog that when he does the things you want, he will get praised.

TIP! Be sure to praise your dog thoroughly any time it behaves correctly, such as sitting when it is time to put their leash on. After all, your goal is for your dog to know when it is doing something good.

A dog needs both mental and physical exercise. Bring him outside and teach him how to fetch. He can feel useful and like a family member, and continuing to train him will keep his mind sharp.

Always take your dog for his yearly check-up. The vet will be able to spot signs of diabetes, thyroid issues and kidney trouble a while before your dog shows any signs. An annual check-up for your pet can help to avoid future expense and needless suffering for your dog.

Perform tick and flea inspections daily on the dog when it gets warmer out. You can get a flea comb that will help with the removal of fleas on your dog. There are lots of products that can help with ticks and fleas. Consult with your vet to learn more about flea and tick control.

Try not to buy low quality food for your dog. Cheaper brands have tons of additives, preservatives, and ingredients that can harm a dog’s health. Check out professional recommendations from groups online. Your dog will be much better off.

TIP! Try not to base your dog food choices on the price of the food. Cheap brands usually contain preservatives such as sodium and other additives that can be dangerous for your dog’s health.

You might be tempted to share your food with your dog. Keep in mind that some foods are unhealthy for dogs. Onions, garlic and chocolate are just a few foods which are intolerable to dogs. These foods can cause health problems in your dog.

CONSIDER EVERYTHING

There are a lot of factors that go into owning a dog. While a puppy’s face is adorable, you must consider everything as far as providing care. Always consider everything involved with becoming responsible for another life, and be sure you are able to handle it all.

When you’re choosing your dog’s food, don’t cut costs by going with the cheapest option. In the long term, it’s crucial to feed healthy, high-quality food to your dog. Although this could mean paying a higher price for a better brand, at least you know that your pet is getting the required amount of nutrients in their diet.

TIP! When buying your dog’s food, do not get the cheap stuff. It is vital to give your dog the best quality food.

Try to use positive reinforcement on your dog. Rewards will really help the training much more than threats and violence. Treating the dog in a humane manner offers the best possible training and has shown to work best over the long run. Therefore, be kind during training; you are going to get better and quicker results.

You must keep a close eye on what and how much your dog eats. Puppies can eat highly caloric foods, which facilitate proper growth. On the other hand, adult dogs need less food and foods that are lower in calories to keep their weight in check.

Make sure your dog is safe when out in the heat. Dogs tend to get overheated easily. In the summertime, be sure they can lay in a cool, shaded area. Make sure the dog has ready access to cool, clean water. Also, your dog might not like the sun’s rays, so ask the vet if you can get some sunscreen for your dog.

Becoming a foster home is a good way to work with dogs without committing to one on a long term basis. A lot of abused and homeless animals are in shelters waiting, but resources are slim. Lend a hand by fostering a dog, and determine if it is a good fit for you and your family.

TIP! If you think you want a dog, but are not sure if you are ready for the commitment involved, consider becoming a foster home. Shelters are full of abused and homeless dogs and they are hard pressed to give them all proper care.

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Begin Again (Mortician!Steve and Baker!Bucky Modern “Moving On” AU)

Epilogue:

Days turned into weeks. Weeks into months. It all went by so quickly that Steve felt like he hadn't even blinked the tears from his eyes. Only, the tears had dried up in the last eight months.

A lot had changed in the last eight months.

Babysitting his nephews and niece more. Hanging out with Sam. Spending some much needed quality time with Natasha. Chaperoning Eddie and Daisy at a concert to a band that Steve had never heard of and probably wouldn't be looking up on his own. Accepting a few phone numbers. Even going on some dates that led no further than a polite, "It was nice to meet you," at the end.

Twisting his longer hair into a small bun at the nape of his neck, Steve went about his morning routine. Brushing his teeth, grooming his beard. The boring stuff that Steve's tired mind could do on autopilot. Which was exactly the way he preferred it.

"Ready to run?" Steve asked Vinnie, leading the way into the kitchen and retrieving one of the homemade mint dog treats from the glass jar. They weren't Vinnie's favorite, but he still gobbled it up in two impressive bites. Leaving his breath just a little fresher.

Shaking his head, Steve zipped Vinnie's jacket-harness onto his large frame and gratefully accepted the slobbery kiss from the Weimaraner. Smiling, Steve scratched Vinnie between his ears before standing and grabbing his own lightweight jacket.

"Ready?" Steve asked, with the fleece item zipped all the way up and clipping the leash to Vinnie.

The dog's tail wagged, and Steve took that as a, "Yes!"

Making sure that his keys were in his black joggers, Steve led the way out of the complex. Instantly starting to run as soon as they reached the sidewalk. Although it was February, Steve was glad that most of the snow had melted and salt wasn't needed due to not enough ice slicking the cement. It was extremely helpful when he didn't have to worry about Vinnie's poor paws.

Running their usual track to the park, through the park, and on their way home. Only, today Steve changed up their routine. Deciding that it would be nice to swing by for something sweet. After all, he had made some progress. Instead of just liking each other's social media posts, Steve had started commenting on some of Bucky's posts. So, really, Steve deserved a cupcake.

Breathing heavily, Steve tied Vinnie's leash to the bench across from What's the Batter With You. Figuring that it was a good thing that his breathing was labored from the run since it drew the attention away from his shaking hands. Which was greatly appreciated.

Since Steve had been taking his morning runs later in the morning due to the winter bite, he entered the shop no later than ten minutes of it being open. Internally, Steve mocked himself for seeming so eager. Especially after all this time later.

"Hi there," a thin, young black woman greeted from behind the counter.

"Hi," Steve breathlessly replied, stepping closer so he could get a better look. Looking over the red, white, and pink cupcakes in the display, Steve couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Directing his attention to the menu board, he was pleasantly surprised to see that there were three new cupcakes added. Although it wasn't Valentine's Day just yet, there were themed cupcakes ready to go.

As he read over the new editions: Rocky Road to Your Heart, Your Kiss Is On My List, and Hoping It's Not Too Late, Steve's heart stuttered over the fourth one. For a moment, Steve couldn't breathe at all. Feeling as though all the air ever had been removed entirely as he read: I Should've Said, "I Love You, Too".

Eyes roaming over the spicy dark chocolate cake with cinnamon and cayenne cream cheese frosting, Steve wanted to believe that it was for him. And while half of him was floating on cloud nine at even the possibility, the other half was desperately clinging to the ground to remain levelheaded.

"Steve?" That familiar voice broke through his thoughts, causing his attention to snap over to the kitchen door. His steel-blue eyes wide as he looked over Steve like he was a ghost. And hell, maybe he was. He sure felt like one in that moment: numb and transparent. Running his hand through his newly cut hair -- short, more akin to the way it was in high school, Steve had thought when he saw the picture on facebook -- Bucky asked, "What are you doing here? Not that I don't want you here -- because I do, I'm just surprised is all. Considering how things… yeah… You look good."

"I, uh," Steve started, gesturing towards the front of the shop where Vinnie was tied up outside, "Was running."

"Right," Bucky nodded and offered, "Vinnie can come in. It's pretty chilly out there and I can't imagine he's happy being out there."

"Okay," Steve nodded, agreeing as he awkwardly crossed the shop to get the Weimaraner. Not quite understanding why he was so awkward. Bucky owned the cake shop, for crying out loud, of course, he was going to be there!

Still, Steve wasn't expecting to see him. Wasn't expecting his heart trying to escape his chest to Bucky either. It had been eight months, and really, Steve had expected to be over the attractive brunet by now. Or maybe, hoping, was a better term. After all, none of the dates had dissuaded his heart from beating for Bucky Barnes.

When Steve returned to the shop, he noted that the other employee wasn't there now. The part that wanted to be overjoyed in the moment wanted to believe that she had left to give them some alone time. However, Bucky explained, "Shuri is getting some fresh pupcakes."

"Oh, he'll love that," Steve deadpanned, petting Vinnie's head.

"So, um," Bucky started but stopped almost immediately. Worrying his lower lip with his teeth, he kept his gaze on the counter before asking, "Can I get you a cupcake?"

At the mention of cupcakes, Steve looked up at the menu again. Eyes lingering on that one specific cupcake that he hoped was his, in some way. In any way. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he approached the counter and looked over the display cupcakes. Bringing his gaze up to Bucky, he tried not to look away when their eyes locked and questioned, "What do you suggest?"

"Well," Bucky pressed his lips together as he thought and Steve briefly watched the movement. "Why don't I surprise you? You take a seat and I'll join you?"

"Okay," Steve readily agreed and headed over to one of the two seater tables. Hand still shaking as he pulled the chair out for himself.

Before Steve could even take his seat, Bucky was joining him. Setting one plate down in front of Steve and the other in front of himself, Bucky took his seat. Stealing glances of Steve as he did so.

"So, how've you been?" Bucky asked.

"Fine," Steve lamely answered. More interested in Bucky, "You?"

"Fine," Bucky repeated, fighting a smirk. Glancing down at the cupcake, Bucky confessed, "I broke up with Tony."

Steve wasn't sure what to say to that. He already knew that due to them being friends online. Not that Steve had been counting the days or anything. But it did take thirty-seven days after the night they kissed for Bucky to make a post updating everyone that the wedding was off and to change his relationship status to single.

"I know, I saw," Steve bashfully decided on, ears red as he focused on the cupcake in front of him. Chocolate cake with spicy cream cheese frosting.

"Yeah, I guess you would," Bucky good-naturedly scoffed at himself. Then, he chuckled and admitted, "I don't know why, but I kinda expected you to be more enthusiastic."

"Why's that?" Steve's brows furrowed as he studied the brunet in front of him.

Bucky ran his hand through his tousled hair while the grin grew on his face, "I mean, it should be obvious, shouldn't it?"

Steve's heart slammed against his ribs at that, and he softly pleaded, "Spell it out for me?"

"Starting over?" Eyes flickering around Steve's face, Bucky conceded, "You. Me. Mexican food. Maybe a movie. This Friday works for me."

"This Friday is Valentine's Day," Steve nearly gasped at the realization.

"I know," Bucky confirmed. Chewing on his lip, he confessed, "I don't want to miss my chance and mess this up."

Biting back his grin, Steve teased, "Bucky Barnes, are you asking me to be your Valentine?"

"Absolutely," Bucky readily answered, leaving Steve stunned just the slightest bit. "And I'm hoping since I made you your own cupcake, you'll agree."

"Which cupcake?" Steve wondered aloud, hoping that he was right.

It must have showed in his expression because Bucky threw a crumpled napkin as he confirmed, "You already know!"

"Wishful thinking?" Steve shrugged as he caught the napkin.

Playfully, Bucky rolled his eyes as he feigned exasperation, "What am I going to do with you?"

Grinning at the brunet, Steve placed his arm on the table with his palm up. Hoping that Bucky would accept it. Hoping that this was the start they both wanted. Both needed. Both deserved. After everything that they had been through, Steve really didn't feel like beginning again. He desperately hoped that this would be his last beginning when it came to his heart.

As Bucky placed his hand in Steve's and laced their fingers together, Steve knew that it was.

[betsyandmaxwellandduchessohmy]

this isn't even an imagine request but it can be if you want it to be; AU's where dadsona is actually a Fairy Godfather, and not a very good one at that; they resort more to actual fathering than magic most of the time, but one or more of the dads catches them in the act of something they just CAN'T explain away.

((I'm so love for magical au's. How could I not use this bad boy as a prompt?

Decided to give Brian the spotlight on this one, because there’s really not a lot of Brian content. Which is a damn shame! I didn’t enjoy Brian’s route as much as the other dads, because I felt like the competitive streak the route used for the dadsona was more mean-spirited than my own irl competitive streak, but I love Brian as a person! He’s so sweet and gentle and tbh I wish my dad was more like Brian. I have dad envy for Daisy. There. I said it.

A little late on the promised time, but in all fairness to me, I work a late shift at work tonight and had to sleep late so I don’t fall asleep on the production line.

I kind of borrowed the baby teeth thing from the movie Toothless, which I haven’t seen since I was ten or less but had a profound impact on my childhood. I am a grown ass woman, and I still have one of my baby teeth. There was just no adult tooth underneath it, so I have to take extra good care of it. So! If that’s a canon rule for toothfairies/magic, I have a pass to see it!))

~~~

Make A Wish

You sighed softly, kicking a bit of sand as you walked down the beach. It was a beautiful afternoon - a spattering of clouds in the sky, but nothing big enough to block the sun’s bright rays for more than a minute. You had been planning to spend the evening at the baseball fields, watching Craig’s girls’ game, but the other team’s coach had called, saying their bus had broken down and asking to reschedule. Craig said the girls were annoyed, but that they would certainly survive the ordeal of waiting two more days to crush the Pine Place Hashbrowns into the dust. 

So you found yourself with nothing to do. You had been expecting to give some kind of pep-talk, rally the girl’s spirits when they started to lose, and cheer them on to victory. Now there was no guarantee they would still need your help, if indeed they ever would have.

Your powers were chancey that way. You didn’t know if you were doing the fairy-god type of fathering until your wings popped out. There was always a pull guiding you to where you were needed, and once you found the key element of your newest task, your wings materialized, letting you know you were on the right track. They were sort of a radar, in their own way. And of course, this drew attention from children and the occasional tween, since they were the only ones who could see the wings when they appeared. It had taken you until Amanda lost her last baby tooth to realize that that was the defining factor. Once a kid lost their last baby tooth, they were blind to this bit of magic. 

As if on cue, your wings fluttered up, a pale iridescent green with swirling tails that stretched halfway down your calves, just in time to feel a bump to your hip that nearly bowled you over.

An undignified sound escaped your throat as you stumbled, and you looked down at your assailant - an enormous cocoa brown mastiff, with a dusky brown muzzle and ears. She looked up at you with droopy eyes, almost expectant, just waiting for you to do something. Offering your hand, she gave you a sniff and a nuzzle. “So what’s your name, gorgeous?” you asked, taking a knee so you could rub at her face. If this beauty needed a home, you’d be more than happy to provide one, but that didn’t seem quite right. Besides, she was wearing a collar - return her to her home? Except the collar only held a tag that assured a rabies shot, the back of which gave the address for the animal shelter.

But ‘home’ felt right. Looking into the dog’s dark eyes, it struck you, and you smiled. “Can I trust you to follow me?” you asked, taking a step and looking back to indicate that she should.

She looked at you blankly and you sighed. “What if I promise you treats when we get there?”

You took another step and the dog began to follow, and your grin returned. You started heading back to the cul-de-sac, the mastiff at your heels. “Duchess Cordelia? Duchess!”

Glancing back, you noticed a person with dark hair, looking rather out of sorts and clutching a bag of dog treats. It almost looked like-

You shook your head and kept walking. Damien wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a polo shirt.

In any case, they hadn’t seemed to have noticed you, so you kept walking, carefully ducking out of sight of the shelter employee

“The Duchess Cordelia, huh? I think it suits you,” you hummed, grinning at the oversized pup. “Well, Duchess, let’s get you adopted, huh?”

~~~

It was only a short walk back to the cul-de-sac, but you were grateful that working out with Craig seemed to have made it a little easier. Flying would have been easiest, had you not had to worry about being spotted, and carrying two-hundred pounds of dog.

The Duchess, seeming to know better than you what she was doing, trotted right up to Hugo’s door and began fiddling with the knob. She probably would have gotten it open, too, had it not been locked. You’d kind of been hoping Hugo would be home so you could talk him into adopting before the shelter person found their way here, but the loud music blasting from the upper floor said Ernest was probably home, and you would take what you could get. “You’ve got the right idea,” you grinned, brows furrowing nervously. “Normally I’d say ‘a little breaking and entering never hurt anyone, but. Well.” Shaking your head, you lifted your hand, waving her away from the knob, now plastered in drool and mud. Luckily, with a little zap of magic, the door creaked open, and that was all the Duchess needed to get inside. 

“MC?”

You jumped, whipping around to spot Brian, looking at you with all the concern one expected of someone who just witnessed one neighbor let a strange dog into another neighbor’s house. “Can I ask why you just-” “Duchess!?”

You groaned, grabbing Brian’s arm and hauling the larger man to the side of the house. When he tried to ask what you were doing again, you shushed him, wings fluttering nervously as you peered around the side of the building. Polo person seemed to note the open door with a groan of their own, moving quickly to the front step and knocking politely before stepping inside. “MC, what is going on?” Brian demanded. You shushed him, peering through the window. 

“I’ll explain later. For now, I just need you to trust me,” you added, whispering your plea for patience. You expected Brian to saunter off to call the police, but instead, he sidled up beside you, both of you poking your heads up over the window sill to look in on the scene. The Duchess seemed to have left the sitting room in tact, but she definitely did not like the leash that Polo Person-

“Is that Damien?”

Holy shit, that is Damien.

“... I didn’t know he wore polo shirts.”

She didn’t seem to like the idea of Damien leashing her.

Things were looking cagey; Damien seemed to be trying to reason with the Duchess, until a flash of orange drew your eye, and suddenly, the Duchess blew past Damien, tackling Ernest to the ground and eating a pizza roll from his hand “Sweet success,” you grinned, until you caught sight of your wings out of the corner of your eye. Was there something else-? “So you want to explain to me why you put a stray dog in Hugo’s house and count his son getting tackled as a ‘success’?”

Ah. So there was. “And maybe also the wings?” What.

“I mean, I’m not one to judge, and they look like they’re very high-quality, but I don’t think-” “You can see them?” Brian seemed jarred by your interruption, but even more so by the way the words “Dad can we keep her” (And when did Hugo get home?) made them fold down and vanish off your back.

“I mean- I could? A second ago?” he murmured, bushy brows furrowing in confusion as he leaned back as if to check that they truly were gone. 

“It’s… a long story,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “Why don’t we… get out of Hugo’s yard? I’ll explain everything.”

The two of you sneaked back out to the sidewalk, a little hand-wave and a whispered spell on your part kept the men on the front step from noticing you, but Hugo seemed thrilled with the situation, excited to have his son call him ‘dad’ again.”

Brian seemed befuddled and a little frustrated, but you walked him back to your house and sat in the lawn chairs in your backyard.

“So, as much as I would love to simplify it down to “I found a home for a dog and a dog for a home”, you being able - to see me, like that… it complicates things.”

“How so?” he asked, drawing your shy gaze. “Seems fairy straightforward to me.” Any other time, that would have made you crack up. Even now it drew a chuckle out of you, but for the most part, you were solemn. “Does it now?” “Well, you did what needed doing, in an odd sense and with an admittedly strange method, but it did seem to work. It’s been a while since I’ve seen Hugo smile like that when talking about Ernest.”

You couldn’t help but smile, glad to have had a hand in your neighbor’s joy.

“I just… this can’t really be real, can it? I mean, that very nearly looked like magic,”

“It was,” you sighed, drawing his eye. “What i don’t understand is how you saw my wings. Only kids ever see them! People lose the ability to see magic when they lose their baby teeth - it’s a representation of childhood innocence thing.”

“I still have a baby tooth. There was no adult tooth underneath, so if that’s the rule… I didn’t exactly break it…” You sighed, taking a long dredge of pop.

“If that’s the case, I’m surprised you haven’t seen anything before. We’re not exactly subtle around adults, since they usually can’t see any magical shenaniganery.”

“Okay. Well, the wings are gone now, so… what’s that about?”

“They become visible when the job starts and vanish when it ends,” you explained, resting your elbows on your legs and folding your hands. “I told you I travel around town for work, and that I worked with kids, both of which are true.”

“You said you were a child psychologist.” “I said no such thing. I told you about my job and let you draw your own conclusions. The actual, official title is Fairy Godparent. The wings are… sort of a radar. When there’s something I can do to help someone who needs it, they become visible and act as a sort of calming aura, to let kids know that they can trust me. Sometimes it’s granting a wish kind of help that they need, for bigger stuff, but most of the time… most of the time, they just need someone to talk to. To tell them it’s going to be alright.” You gave a shrug, summoning a few cans of soda from the garage and offering one to Brian. Who accepted dumbly and looked at the unlit firepit as he absorbed all he’d been told. 

“So… Wand? Crown? Magic?”

“The crown and wand are a uniform thing, I only wear them to meetings and evaluations.” “Fairies have meetings and evaluations?” “There are offices, too. Real similar to mortal offices, except everyone has wings,” you chuckled. Sighing softly, you took a sip from your can. He did the same. 

He pestered you with questions for the next half an hour; Are there other fairy god parents in Maple Bay? Did Amanda know? Was her other parent a fairy too? How well did being a fairy pay? You answered them dutifully; Yes, we all work in precinct-like sectors, she’s always known, Alex was a mortal, it pays well enough.

“You think the dog is a good plan for Ernest?” he asked finally, after you finally caved and lit a fire to show off a little magic. 

“It’ll give him a chance to be responsible, and hopefully give him and Hugo something to bond over,” you hummed, finishing off your can. Brian chuckled, scratching at his beardy cheek with a thoughtful look. “You alright there big guy?”

“I was just thinking…” “Uh oh, that’s worrying.” “Watch it, MC.” “Sorry,” you gave him an apologetic smile. He pouted lightly at you, but it melted into a smile of his own a moment later. “What were you thinking?”

“I probably should’ve figured something magical was going on a lot sooner,” he stated, swirling the last of his soda in the can and watching you out of the corner of his eye. His grin went a little cheeky. “There always was something enchanting about you.”

You would have spit out your soda if you’d had any left. Instead you choked on air, looking at him with wide eyes and red cheeks. You ducked your head, trying to hide your smile.

The stars had begun to dot the twilight sky. You heard a deep ‘boof’ a few houses down, and somehow, in years of performing magic big and small, this was the first time you were the one to be bewitched.

[subjectx17]

How to train Beagles

If you're looking for a good-humored, active dog, you usually come across a beagle. The fun, energy and good humor of beagles make them a popular choice for many dog ​​owners. But beagles also have a very strong will of their own. Since they also have a lot of energy, this means that it is very important to train your beagle to be a good pet. 1Expect your beagle to have an active temperament. They naturally have a lot of energy and a good nose. They are descended from working dogs that are used to following scent trails when hunting. This also means that they think independently rather than rely on their owner for directions. If your beagle is not being used for hunting, it is important that you train your dog.

Beagles also like to use their voice and often bark when enthusiastic. Good training and plenty of exercise are important to prevent this from becoming a problem. * Commit yourself to regular training sessions (at least twice a day) as long as it takes to train your beagle successfully. Don't get discouraged and don't give up.. TIP FROM AN EPERT Pippa Elliott, MRCVS Veterinarian, Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons Dr. Elliott is a veterinarian with over thirty years of experience. She graduated from the University of Glasgow in 1987 and then worked as a veterinarian for 7 years. She then worked as a veterinarian at a veterinary clinic for more than ten years. Pippa Elliott, MRCVS Vet, Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons Look for ways you can take advantage of your dog's naturally active nature to have fun. Pippa Elliott, licensed veterinarian: “Beagles can be so busy smelling things that they don't notice and listen to anything else, including your commands. Instead of getting the dog to stop smelling, use this to have fun. Train the dog to follow a scent trail to find a favorite toy. 2Take the lead and be patient. A beagle likes to see himself as a leader,3Train you broke through all day. Don't just reinforce commands during training sessions. Your beagle will be more successful if you work with him on commands all day long.

* For example, you can insist that he sit before you put down his food bowl, or sit on the sidewalk before crossing the street. If the dog isn't listening, don't take the action. So if he doesn't sit down for the food, put it away. Let him sit and then take out the food bowl. * If he refuses to sit on the sidewalk, walk back a few steps, approach the sidewalk again and ask again. * If you really have to cross and he still refuses, walk back. Then go forward again and cross over, but don't ask your dog to sit now.4Motivate your broke with food and praise. Food is a powerful motivator for beagles and some dogs are also highly motivated by attention and praise. Use food rewards as part of your reward-based training, and give a treat immediately when the dog responds. When your dog starts to respond regularly, you can go back to a reward for every fourth or fifth success.

* Give your beagle good quality commercial dog treats, with few fillers. Or cooked lean meat or baked potato in small pieces. American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals 5Give your broke regular exercise. Because beagles are high-energy dogs, it can be more difficult to train if they would rather run than listen to your instruction. Let your broke out for an hour twice a day so that he gets plenty of exercise. This will burn off some of his energy and make him more receptive to you as a trainer.

* You can throw the ball or go for a run with your dog on a leash. * Remember, this breed is capable of running all day, so going twice a day around the block will not exhaust him.1Teach your dog to sit. Get your beagle's attention by holding a treat in your hand. Show the treat, but don't give it to him. Instead, hold it in front of his nose, between your finger and thumb. Once you get his attention, raise the treat so that the dog has to put his nose up too. Arch back with the treat so that when he follows it, he automatically sits down. The moment he starts to sit down, say sit firmly and give him the treat. Mattinson, Pippa. The Happy Puppy Handbook: Your Definitive Guide to Puppy Care and Early Training.

* Practice at any occasion and in different locations, such as at home in the garden or on the street, the sit command. This prevents tunnel vision, where the beagle thinks he only needs to listen when the command is given at home. * Eventually your dog will listen to the command without you having to make the bow with the treat. Once he does this regularly, you can skip giving him a treat. This creates uncertainty in the mind of the dog, so that he does not take the treat for granted, but works harder for it. Mattinson, Pippa. The Happy Puppy Handbook: Your Definitive Guide to Puppy Care and Early Training. Ebury Press. 2014. 2Train you broke to stay. Your dog must be able to follow the sit command before you teach him the stay command. Let yourself be broke. Raise one hand, as if to stop someone, and say stay in a strong voice.

* Your dog may not do this for more than two seconds, but you should praise it exuberantly and keep practicing. * Eventually, you can practice getting away from your dog3Don't get broke from jumping. There are several simple things you can do to keep your beagle from jumping up. If he successfully follows your commands, you will praise him lavishly.

* One method: you can ignore the jump and walk away. After a few minutes, call him and praise him. * Another method: you can use the stay command followed by the sit command. * If you suspect that you are broke out of boredom, consider training him. The behavior may stop if he is busy learning new things. 4Train you broke to come. If the dog happens to come to you, say come. If he doesn't, lure him with a treat. When he comes to you, repeat come and give him lavish prizes or treats. Give your dog time to complete the command. Mattinson, Pippa. The Happy Puppy Handbook: Your Definitive Guide to Puppy Care and Early Training.

* If your dog is taking frustratingly long to come, do not punish the beagle or strap on his leash and walk away with him. Your dog will then associate the come command with punishment. * Once your dog has come to you, instead of going straight home, give him his favorite toy and play with him on a leash for a few minutes. In this way he will not associate coming with punishment or an end of entertainment. Mattinson, Pippa. The Happy Puppy Handbook: Your Definitive Guide to Puppy Care and Early Training. Ebury Press. 2014. 5Don't bite your broke. If your dog bites while playing, don't play with him aggressively or roughly. If he starts biting during a game, stop playing. Your beagle will soon understand that biting is the end of pleasure. Give your dog space and let him get comfortable with you before approaching him.

* If your broke bites you or someone else, it could be because he is afraid or doesn't trust you. * Your dog may start to bite, but that does not mean he is a vicious or aggressive dog. Your beagle can just be curious, play, or defend himself. It is wise to teach your dog not to bite, regardless of the cause.6Prepare for your beagle to bark. Beagles often bark when they get excited or want to play. Unfortunately, this can be misunderstood by strangers as aggressive behavior, or by other dogs as overwhelming. At home, learn to read your dog's facial expressions when he is getting ready to bark. He may appear intensely focused, wrinkle his face, or start to frown. Pay attention to the unique expression your dog gets before barking.

* When you see that expression, distract it. You can use the favorite toy to get his attention. If the barking is interrupted, let your dog sit and reward the good behavior. * Sometimes a recurring event can cause your dog to bark: the doorbell, garbage trucks in the morning, the vacuum cleaner. Teach your beagle not to bark at other dogs. Your beagle will likely run into other dogs when you take him out. To start, keep your dog on a leash. When he sees a dog and starts barking, say quiet, turn around and walk in the opposite direction. When the beagle has calmed down, turn around and walk back to the other dog. Keep repeating this, and eventually your beagle will learn that barking isn't productive.

* If you are walking your beagle and see other dogs, don't get tense and concerned about1Create a toilet training routine. Start doing this as soon as you get the dog, by putting it directly where it can go to the bathroom. If he squats, say a keyword like go poop. When he's done, give him lots of compliments or a treat. The Humane Society of the United States

* Start by keeping your beagle in a room so that he doesn't get overwhelmed or distracted by an entire house full of smells. * Immediately after relieving your dog, reward your dog so that he associates the reward with the action. 2Be consistent. Take your dog outside every 20 to 30 minutes if possible. Choose a place outside where you take your dog to relieve himself. Always go to that place when you walk him out. You should also take him out first thing in the morning, last thing in the evening, and after dinner. When he appears to be crouching, give him lots of praise.

* Since you're already outside, you can also reward your beagle with playtime in the park or a long walk. The Humane Society of the United States 3Feed your dog on a regular schedule. It is important to feed him at fixed meal times, rather than letting him nibble all day long. Schedule multiple meal times throughout the day. Along with regular meal times, there will also be regular times when he needs to relieve himself. Take your beagle outside 30 to 40 minutes after every meal to relieve himself. Plan outings around meals and stick to the routine.

* Young beagles should be let out more often. As a general rule, a puppy can wait an hour per month of age, up to 8 hours. For example, a three-month-old puppy can wait three hours. * The amount of food you give your beagle will depend on4Watch your dog for signs. Your broke will probably show that he needs to go out. Pay attention to that and allow him to go outside before an accident can happen.

* Watch for barking or scratching at the door through which you go out with your puppy, squatting, restlessness, and sniffing or twirling. The Humane Society of the United States * Better to let your broke out even if you're not really sure you have to. Be prepared to deal with accidents. If your beagle has an accident at home, don't punish him or be angry with your dog. Once he's out of the way, thoroughly clean the area with an enzymatic cleaner so that no odor is left behind to draw him there.

* Do not use common household cleaners that often contain bleach or ammonia. Ammonia is one of the components of urine. In fact, cleaning with that will amplify the odor signal from urine, which can cause the beagle to return to the wrong place to urinate. * Do not leave cleaning products in the house where your dog can reach. Most are dangerous to health, so dispose of them properly. Ad)

* By learning the basic commands sit, stay and come you will be able to deal with almost any situation. For example, if your beagle wants to run after another dog, but react immediately to sit, then you have prevented the beagle from running away. * Start training as soon as you bring your beagle home by taking him outside to where he can go to the bathroom and praising him when he does. It's okay to start training as early as 8 weeks, but don't overexert the puppy's attention span. Letting the puppy sit before setting down his food is a good way to introduce sit and let the puppy listen to you. Crate training is a great option for beagles, and can also make them feel safe and secure. * Beagles should be kept on a leash or in a fenced yard. When a beagle smells a scent, the dog will point its nose to the ground and follow the trail, usually deaf to the owner's commands. Beagles will follow a scent for hours or days and may get lost during the chase. * Dogs learn fastest when they are young so don't be afraid to start training, but watch your dog's level of attention and keep sessions short if he has trouble concentrating. * Start toilet training as early as possible to avoid accidents.

[kilyra]

How Could You Say No?

Ward Meachum (Iron Fist) One-Shot

A/N: So when @presidentmeachum​ photos below popped up on my feed, a fluffy little story popped up in my head. It’s the first “Oh!!” moment I’ve had in a while in terms of a fic idea, so I ran with it :)

As much as you love dogs, finding out Ward suddenly adopted one has you a little worried. Mostly about the dog.

Warning: Fluff. Like straight-hurt-your-teeth fluff. But that’s all, no spoilers. Be warned it’s probably rougher than usual - still shaking off the rust.

NOTE: If you want to be on a Ward (or all) tag list, let me know :) (Photo credit to @presidentmeachum​, originally on insta I believe) 

“...Charlie?” The name awkwardly rolled off your tongue as you tried to make sense of the scene in front of you.

Ward was perched on the edge of his expensive and impeccably clean couch, grinning as he roughed up the fur of a beautiful dog, apparently named Charlie. Looking up at Ward, Charlie licked at his chin, pulling a soft chuckle from his throat. It all looked sweet, but your mind still couldn't process it, not really. Even Ward's dark t-shirt and jeans instead of a fitted suit was out of place. 

Sure, he was finally using some vacation days and was technically on holiday, but still...

Biting your lip, you were hardly aware of the dull pain you were causing as you picked through what to say. But you took too long.

“What, you prefer Charles? That's a bit formal, don't you think?” His narrowed eyes were undermined by the flash of his teeth from his wide, uncharacteristic smile. His grin only grew as the pup lightly nosed against his jaw.

“Uhh...no. No...no that's not my...that's not what I'm saying.” Each word felt slow and clumsy as you tried to say something. Anything.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Ward's eyebrow arched high as he looked up at you. Tilting his head, he leaned back against the couch, watching as you stood in the entrance to the living room with a coffee still in each hand. “Then...what? You don't like dogs anymore?”

Finally breaking your stupor trance, you looked around for a spot to set the coffees down. Just as you lowered them to the coffee table, you eyed Charlie before setting them on the bookshelf instead. “It's just...okay, walk me through this again?”

As you sat down, Charlie came over with no hesitation. Loudly sniffing as close to your face as you'd let him, he let out a loud, decisive huff. When he continued to stare, you reached down and nestled your hand along his neck to scratch behind the German Shepherd's ear. Immediately, his jaw relaxed and his tongue lolled out as he inched himself against you.

Even through your hesitation, you couldn't deny how sweet he was. But you silently swore to yourself that you would not fall in love with him.

Ward's smile finally dropped slightly as he let out a lengthy sigh through his nose. Shifting to face you, he rubbed his thumb over his forehead before shrugging. “Walk you through what? I got a dog.”

“From where, exactly? I don't understand.” You focused hard on your words and not on Charlie, who plunked himself next to you and continued to lean against your leg.

“A friend of mine-”

You hadn't meant to purse your lips together, clearly advertising your confusion. But as he paused and frowned, you realized your face had betrayed you. Just as you were about to apologize, Ward's eyes darted down to Charlie and the wrinkle in his brow smoothed out.

“Fine. It was someone from my meetings...Anyhow, his wife works with one of the no-kill animal rescue groups and was upset because this guy had just been brought back by a third family in the last year. And...I don't know...” As he spoke, his features softened.

When he glanced up at you with his warm expression, it was impossible to try and keep a level head. It was almost as bad as looking into Charlie's face.

Dropping your stare to the coffee table, your eyes widened with frustration. “Right. And why were these families bringing him back?”

“I don't know, but not because of Charlie. It's New York, people make bad choices all the time. They all said he was a sweet dog, they just didn't have the space, or the time, or their kids got bored...” Sitting up, Ward's hair fell forward as he grumbled out what he had been told.

Charlie's ears perked as he looked over at Ward. Stopping his light panting with a quick snap of his jaw, he left your side to head back over to the couch. Resting his hand on the worried pup's shoulder's, Ward almost had to hold him down from trying to jam his nose into his face.

A chill drifted across your exposed-feeling leg.

Clasping your hands over your knees, your voice dropped into a gentler tone. “So...people got bored, didn't have much space, or were too busy...like...too busy with work maybe?”

Ward's head bobbed back as your point finally hit him in the face. “Nice, Y/n, really? I'm not like that. Charlie is family, and family is family. Period.”

Although you had seen this defensiveness before and knew it was just a step away from turning into a fight, you never expected to see it over a dog.

Keeping your voice level, you tried to stop it from escalating. "I get that. I do, and honestly, it's one of the things I love most about you. But...don't you think...I mean how often are you even home?"

“I'm here right now?”

This might be harder than you thought. But this dog deserved better than a fourth return.

“Yeah, but you're on time off, Ward. Normally, you practically live at the office. You working for sixteen hours a day isn't going to be good for Charlie.”

Burrowing his fingers through Charlie's fur, Ward shrugged. “So I won't.”

“Oh really?” Your tone lost its gentle edge and fell flat. You wanted to believe that but...

“Really. Listen, I've already been giving that some thought and so much has changed. For me. For Rand. I don't need to be there all day every day anymore. I just don't. There are more than enough competent people there to keep the daily business in order and, at most, I'm needed for a meeting or two a day.” His words came out in a rush, as though he morphed from defensiveness to a need to convince you.

At least you hoped it was just you he was trying to convince and not himself.

Before you could say anything, he pressed on. “And if I'm going to have a longer day, I can hire a dog walker. Hell, maybe even on my short days I'll have a dog walker if that's best.”

Softly shaking your head, you couldn't help your quiet snort of a chuckle. “Yeah, well it all sounds good but...”

“Because it is good. And...our days offset each other pretty well. So if you were here, actually here, then he wouldn't be alone much at all.”

Your eyes snapped to his, catching his faint grin as he paused.

“Excuse me?” It wasn't exactly the most elegant response, but your pulse spiked so suddenly, it was hard to think.

Straightening, you could practically see his usual confidence seeping back into his bones. When he continued, there was a hint of humour but his tone was firm. “I mean, why not? You're here almost all the time anyhow, so there's not much point in paying rent for a place you hardly use. Plus, I have a dog now so that's got to be a good selling point.”

Swallowing heavily, you forced a smirk, trying to at least appear somewhat relaxed. “Wow. Logic and selling points? How romant-”

“I'm happy when you're here.” As he cut you off with his simple admission, the humour dropped from his face. Charlie leaned against his knee, comfortably settling in as Ward continued to scratch behind his ear.

“And, unless I'm way off base, you're happy when you're here too,” he finished.

As much as you wanted to enjoy rush rising in your chest, you firmly clamped a lid on it. “I...it's not that I don't...”

Watching you fumble for words, Ward's eyebrows rose with muted amusement. But he didn't interrupt.

Taking a deep breath, you started again. “I am happy. And honestly, I've thought about it before. But...don't you think that's a lot of change for you right now? I know you've been through some serious shit and that you're taking a step back from work to sort yourself out...but I just don't know if changing everything about your life at once is a good idea.”

Sliding forward in his seat, he reached over and grabbed your hand as Charlie attempted to lick his arm. Cautiously, he shot you his most charming smile before nodding. “I have been taking a step back, and it didn't take long for me to see what's important. This isn't some panicked reaction to a trying last year, okay? This is just me, finally doing things the way I want to do them. I mean...assuming you want that too.”

It was a lot coming at you all at once. This new, casual and laid back version of the man you loved had you desperately trying to change gears. Which mostly sounded like screeching tires in your head as you tried to stop everything long enough to process.

Before you could fumble over your words more, Charlie's nudging against your arms grew more insistent. Finally, Ward relented with a chuckle. “Alright, pal.”

Giving your hand a final squeeze, Ward stood up and nodded towards the door. "Listen, why don't you think about it? Let's just take this guy out for a walk and not worry about anything for now, okay?"

Ward...not pushing like a headstrong bull until he immediately gets his way? Also new.

Everything still had a dreamlike quality as you watched him reach for the leash that already had its own hook by the door. The pair fell into an easy routine as Charlie stood patiently at his feet, waiting to go while Ward threw on his shoes. For something so different, it already looked so comfortable.

Nodding, you grabbed the coffees from the bookshelf and joined them.

How could you say no?

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