#canine aggression (justified)

[ollieofthebeholder]

And If Thou Wilt, Forget: a TMA fanfic

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Chapter 22: Bring you scathe, or bring you grace

It was another bitterly cold morning, cold enough that the fog had frozen into tiny shards of ice that stung the skin even more than usual, but the mere presence of fog meant it was likely to warm up later—probably not into the teens, if Tim was any judge, but at least warm enough to melt the ice. The roller coaster of temperatures that characterized a London March seemed particularly out of control this year, and Tim was just thankful it wasn’t snowing.

It was almost, but not quite, enough to make him miss California.

Rowlf, of course, was completely unbothered, and was taking his sweet time finding a place to do his business. Tim didn’t mind—much—since he’d done his share of hiking in the mountains during the colder months, but he did have to get to work at some point, so eventually they were going to have to go back in. He particularly wanted to get out early today, even though he didn’t expect he’d be in the office any sooner than usual.

Oh, thank Christ, Rowlf finally squatted down in a patch of grass that looked no different from all the other ones he’d rejected on his way here. Tim praised him, gave him a piece of chicken as a treat, and scooped up his offering before clucking to him and getting him moving again. They jogged around the block to get some of the energy out, then returned home. As usual, Rowlf made a beeline for his water dish as soon as Tim unclipped his lead; Tim checked his watch, mentally calculated how long he had before he needed to leave, and hung up his coat as well before following him into the kitchen.

Gerry was awake and standing over the stove, cooking and listening to one of the massive collection of metal tapes Tim had found at the Oxfam shop, which as near as he could tell had been ripped from CDs; this one sounded Norwegian, a language he was reasonably confident Gerry did not in fact speak, but then again, he was also fairly confident that the actual words were less important than the feeling the music itself gave him. Tim checked to make sure he wasn’t carrying anything sharp or hot, then came up behind him and kissed his cheek. “Morning. You’re up early.”

“Morning.” Gerry blew a distracted kiss in Tim’s direction. “I got a line on one of the books in Leitner’s catalog, maybe more than one. Hell, there might be a few that aren’t on his list. Collection is from some scholar who was apparently an expert on American history. It’s almost for certain got Leitner’s copy of Feeble Engines of Despotism—”

“That’s a Slaughter one, right?”

“Yeah. I think there might be a couple others in there, too. The auction is this afternoon, but the preview starts at nine, so I’d like to get there as early as I can to get a chance to go through them.” Gerry laughed. “Can’t imagine there’s going to be a lot of competition for the books, but you never know.”

Tim laughed, too. “So you need the car today?”

“Yeah, why, what’s the weather like today?”

“Cold right now, but it’ll warm up. No, I just wanted to stop and check in on Martin on my way to work.” Tim stepped over the dog and opened the fridge, looking for the casserole dish he’d put in there last night. “He’s been out sick for the last two weeks—some kind of stomach thing, Jon said. I texted him a couple times, but he’s not answering, so he must be pretty miserable. And if he’s been too sick to go out, he’s probably running low on food, if he even has the energy to make it.”

Gerry hummed. “He’s probably dehydrated, too. Or—no, wait, Martin’s the one that practically lives on tea, right?”

“Yeah, but if he’s too sick to stand, he probably hasn’t made much. I was going to bring him that ginger ale you didn’t end up taking when we went to visit Nonno. Scoot over.” Tim opened the oven and popped the dish in. “I just want to get this warmed up a bit so it’s ready to eat when I get there.”

“I can give you a ride,” Gerry offered. “Drop you at his building—he’s in Stockwell, right? The auction is out Gravesend way, so that’s more or less on my way anyway. Then you can head in on the Tube.”

Tim smiled up at his partner. “Thanks, Ger, you’re the best.”

Gerry smiled back. “Hey, you’re the one worrying about a colleague you aren’t even sure is going to stick around.”

“I mean, he’s a nice guy,” Tim said, straightening up and stretching. “Not his fault he got a raw deal all around. Besides, the fog’s pretty bad out there this morning, and…I dunno. I’m worried it won’t actually burn off, you know?”

Gerry’s smile slipped. “Yeah, fair. Gertrude would have a stroke if the Lonely got its icy claws into her Archives.”

“Honestly, so would I. And Martin deserves better. I’m doing my best, but two weeks alone…it’s too much of a chance. If he’s too sick to look at his phone, or if it’s not working or something and he never got the texts to begin with, he’s probably feeling pretty sorry for himself.” Tim sighed. “I should have checked on him earlier.”

“Why?” Gerry said pragmatically. “If all you know is that he’s got ‘some kind of stomach thing’, those don’t usually last two weeks. You thought he’d be back sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah. And he was answering Jon’s texts, apparently, but not mine, so I just figured he didn’t want company.” Tim stole a rasher of bacon out of the frying pan and got a slap on the back of the hand for it. “He’s getting it today whether he wants it or not, though. Maybe I should bring the dog.”

Rowlf’s ears perked up and his tail wagged at that. Gerry laughed. “You’d have to take him in to work with you. I doubt Martin can have him in his flat with the leasehold.”

“You wouldn’t mind that, would you, boy?” Tim asked Rowlf, who wagged harder. “You wanna go for a ride?”

Rowlf let out a happy bark and jumped up to lick Tim’s nose, then chased his tail for a moment before running for the front hall. Gerry laughed even harder. “You realize you have to take him now, yeah?”

Tim couldn’t help but start laughing, too. “Hey, maybe it’ll help make Martin feel better.”

It was still incredibly foggy when they left the house, which did not help Tim feel better about Martin’s situation. He spent most of the drive, though, trying to keep Rowlf from sticking his nose in the casserole tote he’d had since moving out of his parents’ house and genuinely never used; even bland as it was, it still had things in it that weren’t good for dogs. Besides, Martin didn’t need dog germs in his medicinal soup. He thanked Gerry with a quick kiss, extracted food, ginger ale, and dog, and headed into the building.

He’d picked up Martin a few times over the last year, but he was usually waiting out front, so this was the first time he’d actually gone inside. It was an incredibly old building and smelled…musty was the only word Tim could come up with. Unkempt. It was faint, but it definitely smelled like there was some kind of mold or insect problem in the building. If he hadn’t known Martin’s mother was in an expensive care home and that she’d needed a lot of costly treatments, most of which hadn’t worked, before that, he would have wondered why he was still living in such a shithole after ten years at the Institute. As it was, he resolved to keep an eye out for someplace with low rent that maybe wasn’t one step away from being condemned.

At his side, Rowlf whined and tucked his tail between his legs, sticking close to Tim’s side. Tim patted his head as best he could with his hands full. “I know, boy, I know. We won’t be here too long.” And it was probably better in Martin’s flat, he thought as he looped the lead around his wrist and scrolled back through his phone for the unit number. A smell like this probably permeated anyone and anything that spent too long too close to it, and Martin never came to work reeking of…

Filth.

Tim sucked in a breath as a chill rolled down his spine. Was there some nest of the Crawling Rot somewhere in the building? One of Martin’s neighbors, perhaps something in the walls or the attic…yeah, if that was here, Martin definitely didn’t need to be here. Frankly, nobody did. There was probably a way to burn it out without destroying the whole building, but he’d really have to check. Maybe Gerry would know.

As he moved cautiously forward, though, he realized just how faint the smell was. It was no more than a trace, more an impression than anything, even fainter than the smell of the Lonely had been on Naomi. It wasn’t here anymore, whatever it was…but it had been, he was certain of it. Very recently. Maybe even earlier that day. Maybe it was one of Martin’s neighbors and had just gone to work?

At last, he found the right door. He raised his hand to knock—and then paused. Rowlf, at his side, was growling very, very faintly…and right in the center of the door, right where he was poised to knock, was a discolored spot, as though the paint had been worn away by some kind of thick, viscous oil.

Oh, not good. Not good at all.

‘ Tim swallowed down his panic and—rather than knock—kicked the door three times, not hard, just below the letterbox. “Martin?” he called, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. “Martin, it’s Tim, can I come in? I brought soup.”

There was a long pause, and then the flap of the letterbox swung open. Rowlf’s ears perked up and his tail began wagging again as he stuck his nose in the gap. The wagging increased in tempo.

A second later, the door yanked open, and there stood Martin. He certainly looked as if he’d been ill—pale and haggard, with dark circles under his eyes and a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Is she gone?” he asked, his voice shaking.

Tim’s heart sank into his shoes. This was his fault. This was all his fault. If he’d only warned them, if he’d come to look in on Martin sooner…

He swallowed hard and managed to speak calmly. “There’s no one here but me.”

Rowlf woofed happily at the sight of Martin, and Tim amended, “There’s no one here but us. Is someone bothering you, Marto?”

“I—Jesus.” Martin sucked in a ragged, shaking breath. “I, I need to go. I need to get out of here before—I-I need to tell Jon.”

“Grab your coat and bag and let’s go,” Tim said instantly. He handed Rowlf’s lead to Martin. “Take the dog, he’ll protect you. I’ll stand guard here.”

That was evidently the right combination of words to use. Martin took the lead automatically and headed back into the flat; Rowlf glanced back over his shoulder at Tim, then followed Martin obediently enough. Tim stayed where he was, scanning the hallway for the mysterious she like a rabbit preparing to bolt out of the warren.

Suddenly he caught a whiff of the musty odor again—still faint but there—and heard a wet, squelching sound coming from the direction he’d come. He turned his head sharply and saw, wriggling towards him, a dozen or so small, white, wormlike things. He was pretty sure they were blind, but they couldn’t have been more clearly of the Corruption if they’d been carrying banners.

“Martin!” he shouted, hopping back slightly. “We’ve got to go!”

Rowlf suddenly bounded out of the door and darted into the hallway, lead flying behind him; Tim caught it as he lunged for the worms, barking. “Rowlf, heel! Martin, shit, we can’t go that way, is there another way out of this building?”

“Shit, shit, shit!” Martin stumbled out the door, his face even paler as he took in the worms. “Um, yeah, yeah, this way—c’mon, hurry—shit, I hope she’s not—”

He fumbled with something in his hand. Tim realized after a split second it was an empty peach can. “What are you doing with that?”

“I have to—J-Jon won’t believe me if I don’t bring him proof,” Martin babbled, taking a step towards the worms, which Rowlf was still barking at.

Tim dropped the casserole tote and grabbed Martin’s arm. “I’ll back you up! Come on, let’s go before they get us too!”

It was the us that apparently did it; from the gasp Martin made, he evidently hadn’t thought about the possibility of Tim—or Rowlf—getting hurt. He turned on his heel and ran down the hallway. Tim snatched up the tote, not particularly caring if the contents were intact or not, gave a sharp tug on Rowlf’s lead, and followed.

There was a fire exit at the far end of the building, a short flight of steps with worn and peeling paint that led to a mews that reeked of rotting garbage and petrol but—crucially—not of insects and rot. They emerged at the end of it onto the street, and Tim jerked his head to the left. “Come on! Tube station is this way!”

“W-what if she catches us?” Martin sputtered. “I don’t want to—l-let’s just go! Come on!”

Running with a full casserole dish wasn’t on Tim’s Top Ten Good Times list, but Rowlf would probably enjoy the long run, and if it would make Martin feel better, he’d make the effort. He nodded and set off.

For all his size, Martin was a pretty decent runner; fear and adrenaline were probably aiding in his speed and stamina. Rowlf ran along happily enough, and Tim found he didn’t even have to slow his pace to keep from losing Martin, especially in the persistent fog that refused to burn off. He was going to regret doing this much running without stretching properly first, but as long as they made it to the Institute, alive and in one piece, that was all that mattered.

Finally, finally, they pounded across the bridge spanning the Thames, danced their way across the street, tore through the courtyard, and hit the door. Martin, who was slightly ahead of him, jiggled the knob and tugged on it, then cursed. “Locked! We’ll have to go down the front—”

“Fuck that.” Tim shoved the casserole tote into Martin’s hands—he was so surprised he took it—jerked his keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the side door. “Go, go, go!”

Thank God, Martin didn’t question him, just ran into the Archives. Tim slammed the door shut behind them and followed him through the Archives. Sasha was nowhere to be seen, but the Archivist’s office door was shut. Martin didn’t slow down, merely dropped the casserole tote on Tim’s desk as he passed and then burst through the office door, Tim a mere half step behind him.

Jon sputtered, obviously caught off-guard. The tape recorder was spooling next to him, and from the papers spread across his desk, he’d been recording the statement Tim was thankful he hadn’t needed to investigate in person, the statement of the woman whose son had been taken by the Vast. “My God—Martin! What—?” His eyes focused on Rowlf, who was now sticking quite close to Tim’s side, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he panted. “What is that?”

He shut off the recorder with a sharp click. Martin gripped the edge of the desk as he struggled to catch his breath, managing to pant out, “Archway—worms—trapped—” before he couldn’t manage to speak anymore.

Tim, who was in a bit better shape, spoke up. “I went to check up on him this morning, and when he answered the door after I knocked, all he asked was if ‘she’ was gone. I told him to grab his bag and we’d come in together, and while he was grabbing it, a bunch of those little white worm things—like Timothy Hodges described in his statement—started coming down the hall towards us.” He sucked in a sharp breath as the pieces fell into place. “Shit, Martin, was that Jane Prentiss?”

“I—I th-think so.” Martin was still trying to catch his breath, but he managed to raise his head and look at Jon, almost defiantly. “I’m sure of it.”

Jon, for once, looked at a loss for words. Tim took a deep breath to steady himself and—for lack of anything better to do—grabbed the empty mug off of Jon’s desk. “Right. I am going to make tea and see if that soup I made survived the trip. You sit down and catch your breath. I’ll be back.”

He brought Rowlf back out into the main Archives, looped the lead over the finial on the chair, and told him to sit and stay, then gathered his and Martin’s mugs and made his way to the break room. Luckily it didn’t take him long to make the tea, or to find a decent-sized bowl in the communal dish cupboard. With three mugs of tea in one hand and a bowl of water in the other, he carefully returned to the Archives, praised Rowlf for being obedient, and unclipped his lead to let him take a noisy drink before returning back to the Archivist’s office, where Jon and Martin seemed to be in the middle of an argument, big surprise. Both of them turned to look at him as he came in.

Under any other circumstances, Tim would have responded with a lighthearted Whatever it is, I agree with Martin, but that seemed inappropriate here. Instead, he handed them their tea and then took his usual seat on the corner of the Archivist’s desk, not actually caring if it bothered Jon or not. “I haven’t looked in the tote yet, but getting you guys something to drink seemed more important.”

Jon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why do you have a tote of soup?” he asked, sounding less as if he cared and more as if that was the question he felt more comfortable with the answer for.

Tim shrugged. “I told you, I was going to check on Martin. He’d been stuck in his flat for two weeks, sick and alone, so I brought Nonna’s chicken soup, a bottle of ginger ale, and the dog.”

On cue, Rowlf padded through the open door to the Archivist’s office, looked around the room, then trotted over to Martin and rested his chin on his lap, looking up at him with big dark hopeful eyes and wagging his tail against the floor. Martin’s hand automatically dropped to fondle the silky, feathery ears, and the faintest approximation of a smile appeared on his lips. Jon looked at them like he wanted to say something, then swallowed and shook his head. Tim decided to take that as a cue to continue. “So what’s the current topic of dissent?”

“I want to make a statement,” Martin said immediately. “About, about what happened.”

Tim nodded and turned to Jon. “Makes sense. Do you need another tape?”

“The other side of this one is still blank,” Jon said automatically, then stopped. “Wait, you don’t think it’ll go on the laptop?”

“No,” Tim said simply. “I don’t. Gertrude wouldn’t even try.”

That was maybe an unfair thing to tack on, but it had the desired effect. Or maybe Jon had just decided to trust him. Either way, he simply nodded and flipped over the tape.

Tim didn’t offer to leave, or ask if Jon or Martin wanted him to. He stayed right where he was, sipping at his tea, and waited for Jon to lead Martin into the statement.

Martin’s statement was a prime example of why Tim had tried so hard to keep the others from investigating the real statements. Even more than the danger of them getting sucked further and further into the Eye until there was no escape, every time they went to the wrong place and asked the wrong questions, they risked drawing the attention of someone or something that would see them as a temptation or a threat or both. Tim really should have told them what was going on sooner. Was it too late to do that now? His heart ached for Martin, and all he’d suffered—but he had to admit, there was a small surge of pride, or maybe just malicious satisfaction, at the way his eyes flashed every time he repeated the words due diligence.

“And we—ran,” Martin concluded at last, sounding spent. “All the way here.”

“Statement ends,” Jon said slowly. He didn’t even glance at Tim. It was like he’d forgotten he was there. “You’re sure about all of this, Martin?”

“Look, I’m not going to lie to you about something like this, Jon.” Now Martin just sounded a little exasperated. “I…like my job. Most of the time.”

Tim somehow knew, deep down in his bones, that Martin had just stopped himself from saying I need my job. Jon, however, simply nodded. “Very well. In which case there's a room in the Archives I use to sleep when working late. I suggest you stay there for now. I'll talk to Elias about whether we can get extra security, but the Archives have enough locks for the moment. It's also supposed to be humidity controlled and, though it hasn't been working for some time, it does mean it's well sealed. Nothing will be sneaking through any window cracks.”

The last thing Tim had expected was Jon’s immediate, unconditional acceptance of Martin’s statement—and from the stunned look on his face, it was the last thing Martin had expected as well. He rallied quickly, though. “Okay…thanks. To be honest, I didn’t, didn’t expect you to…take it seriously.” His eyes flicked over to Tim, ever so briefly, and Tim nodded once to indicate that he hadn’t forgotten—he did intend to back Martin up if Jon accused him of lying.

Jon pursed his lips briefly. “You say you lost your phone two weeks ago?”

“Thereabouts,” Martin answered. “When I went back to the basement.”

“Well, in that time I have received several text messages from your phone, stating you were ill with stomach problems.” Jon laid a hand over his phone, which was sitting on the corner of his desk nearest his hand. “The last one said you thought it ‘might be a parasite,’ though my calls trying to follow up were never answered.”

“Jesus Christ, Jon, if you’d said that I’d have been round immediately,” Tim blurted without thinking.

Jon and Martin both looked at Tim in surprise, but before anyone could say anything, there came the loud buzzing of an electronic vibrating against a solid wooden surface. Jon moved his hand and blinked at his phone, then picked it up. “Hold on.”

That fast, Martin turned his attention back to Jon. “What?”

“I just received another text message. From you.” Jon gave Martin a worried look, then tapped something on his phone and read aloud. “’Keep him. We have had our fun. He will want to see it when the Archivist’s crimson fate arrives.’”

Martin licked his lips. “What does that mean?”

Tim’s hands tightened around his mug. Unbidden, the memory of the nightmare he’d had two months ago unfolded in his mind: Gertrude watching him fall away from her, flowers the color of crimson erupting across her chest. Jesus, was that what that meant? The Eye didn’t see the future, he knew that, but could something else have been trying to warn him what might happen to her?

He had to find Gertrude. Fast.

Jon laid his phone back on the table, looking grim. “It means I ask Elias to hire some extra security. We should probably warn Sasha as well. I’ll also have a look through the Archives, as I believe we have a statement from Ms. Prentiss as well.” He looked—almost glared—at the tape recorder. “End recording.” He stabbed the button with a vicious finger.

Rowlf whined softly and nudged Martin’s hand; Martin scratched him behind the ears and was rewarded with a thumping tail. Tim managed a smile. “See, he remembers you.”

Martin blinked, then looked down. “W-wait, is this the dog that—?”

“That got into the Archives last year?” Tim supplied. “Yeah. He was still hanging out in the bushes when I went to lunch and tried to get back in, so I took him to the vet. Was just going to pay for his shots and leave him there to get adopted, but he apparently got attached. Like I said, Jon had said you were sick, and I thought you might like the company.” With a glance at Jon, he added, “My partner’s out all day, so I can’t take him home until lunch, and I’d have to take the time to go there and back on the Tube .”

Jon sighed and waved a hand. “He can stay for the day. In the grand scheme of things, it hardly seems worth worrying over.” He got to his feet. “Let me show you that room.”

Tim slid off the desk. “Here, Martin, let me hang your coat up for you. We forgot to do that when we came in.”

“Kinda busy,” Martin mumbled, setting his mug down and fumbling for the zipper. “Oh—hey—Tim, I-I thought there wasn’t a key to that outer door?”

Tim winced mentally, but when Jon turned to look at him in surprise and a little suspicion, he kept his expression as neutral as he could. “Yeah—I told you, my partner had an errand to run today, so he took the car, which means he’s got the house keys on it, so I dug out my spare set. Forgot Gertrude gave me a key to that door for when she was out of town. It’s not the only key to it, though. She had one as well—it was on your ring when I gave them back to Elias, which is why I forgot I had another copy. Anyway, we got here and the side door was locked, so it was faster to just unlock it and come in that way than go around the front. Plus, if we were being followed, no sense in leading it through the main doors.”

Martin shuddered at that. Jon swallowed hard and nodded. “I—I agree. When I go talk to Elias about security, I’ll ask him again about that key.”

“I can make you a copy if you need me to,” Tim offered. “You know. If Elias keeps insisting he can’t find it.”

Jon raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe him?”

Tim worked his ring over his knuckle and flexed the finger, hoping to ease whatever was swollen. “Jon, I wouldn’t believe Elias if he told me the sun rose in the east and set in the west. When’s the last time you ate? It might not be the most traditional breakfast in the world, but Nonna’s chicken soup can fix anything.”

He was rewarded with almost identical thin, shy smiles that made both Jon and Martin look close to the same age, despite the grey in Jon’s hair and his claims of being in his late thirties. Well, Martin had claimed to be older than he was, too, Tim thought as he shepherded them back into the main part of the Archives. The balance of probability was pretty high that Jon was lying, too.

Meanwhile, he was going to get them both calmed down and settled in, and then he was going to try and figure out how to fix this. After all, in a way, he’d been the reason it happened in the first place. It was his responsibility to make it right.

[msburgundy]

@captainsvessel

aggression isn't the only type of poor conduct, though someone's "service dog" has tried to attack my dog before (we were in a dog friendly place so it was less of an issue, but it doesn't make it okay)

the bigger problem is that there are stringent standards of behavior that are justifiably demanded of working dogs, and untrained or improperly trained animals do not measure up.

more than that, as a whole we should be demanding much better behavior from our dogs in general, working or not. dog behavior is so poor in the majority of animals that basic etiquette is not even understood anymore

it is not acceptable for your dog to approach someone, or to sniff them, or to jump on them. not without the handler releasing the dog to do so, even if the dog is just a pet.

this dissolution of canine behavior etiquette has also brought about the same issue in how other people act around dogs. people expect any dog they see to come up and say hi to them, so they feel entitled to say hi to and touch any dog.

people do not respect dogs as a tool anymore and it interferes with the work someone's actual service dog is trying to do. also the presence of a poorly trained animal is an even bigger hindrance to real work.

there are also cleanliness standards for service animals that someone with an ESA in a fake vest is neither aware of or nor inclined to follow. and it's not fair to other people to have to eat near your greasy, smelly dog in a restaurant just because you feel like bringing it.

when i say ESA vs "real" service dog, i'm not making that distinction based on the support being provided. i'm distinguishing based on the quality of the dog. i don't care why anyone wants a service dog and i think anyone is entitled to have one, no questions asked, but the dog MUST be suitable for public access or else it is a liability to all involved

[grison-in-space]

As much as our vision of the wolf had altered, just a few minutes after the tennis ball incident it shifted once again, thanks to Chase, our then-yearling blue heeler. We had two mild-mannered, beautifully behaved Labs. Then there was Chase. Heelers (officially known as Australian cattle dogs, not to be confused with Australian shepherds) can be, well, problematic. Engineered from wild dingoes mixed with livestock dogs just a century ago and recognized by the AKC in the 1960s, they’re a new breed, with plenty of variation. The most difficult examples wear their feral hearts on their sleeves without apology. No matter how close an average dog’s genetic ties to wolves, heelers, by dint of their dingo heritage, and just a few generations separating them from life in the wild, take it to another level. The official breed description includes the phrase “a suspicious glint in the eye,” and the AKC National Specialty show for Australian cattle dogs includes a contest in which dogs are judged for having the “most ancestral” physical traits—which leads to musings about inner, lupine remnants as well. Without doubt, many heelers are affable companions, and they’re a wonderful, dynamic breed. But throw a few too many of those ancestral traits into the mix and you get a dog with issues.

Chase was one of those—a work in progress on a good day, a train wreck on the worst. We’d worked on her from when we’d gotten her at eight weeks. Though hideously bright, quick to learn tricks and all sorts of complex behaviors (how many dogs do you know who, when asked “Who’s been good?” sit up on their haunches and raise a single paw, and on command, put their toys away one by one in a basket?), we hadn’t yet been able to corral her borderline-psychotic tendency to rush unknown dogs with a reactive, teeth-bared charge. In her mind, I’m sure she was defending us from impending onslaught. Any canine, from a Boston terrier to a Great Dane, that came too close would get the same bum’s rush. Chase, despite her blustery façade, usually ended up in abject retreat when the objects of her attack took exception—not that it stopped her the next time. Sure, she’d grow three-quarters out of it eventually, but keeping our miscreant teenage mutt leashed under those circumstances was a given. No self-respecting wolf could be expected to put up with her guff.

A Wolf Called Romeo (2014), Nick Jans.

I wasn't expecting a heeler to pop up in this book, and Jans' comments on Chase amuse the hell out of me: for one thing, those dingo crosses date back more accurately to the 1950s and were made by show breeders, and for another, the blustery asshole aggression displayed is almost certainly a consequence of the dogs' selection as cattle dogs, not anything that can be laid at the feet of the dingo. A dingo has more sense than that.

Nevertheless, even if Jans has uncritically accepted the historically dubious party line on heeler ancestry, his portrait of Chase is immediately recognizable. In the context of the book, she's about to slip her leash and charge the eponymous wolf Romeo, which the author correctly views as an incredibly dangerous accident for her: even another dog would be fairly justified in reacting incredibly poorly to her. Instead, the wolf pins her for a moment, then sends her racing back to her humans drenched in spit but perfectly unharmed.

I am reminded intensely of an instance in a dog park I saw as a child, in which my six month old pointer rushed a Rottweiler in a similar way, and I similarly went "ohno-ohno-ohno" and braced for the much larger dog to do my dog some fairly justified damage... and that dog simply hip-checked her and sent her spinning into the dust, confused and outraged. Better not to let that happen in the first place, and today I would certainly intervene well before that point, but I've never quite lost my profound gratitude for that dog's calm choice and grace under fire.

[veebutyans]

Me when I make lore specifically to justify why a character has dog ears :)

Anyway

Here some more concept stuff for Baileys shape shifting abilities in relation to his emotions

Due to a mixture of never being taught about how to use his abilities growing up and lack of emotional regulation skills. He tends to bottle it up until they can't anymore and this is the form it takes

Sad/Anxious/Cat 

He uses this form to self soothe, when he starts feeling overwhelmed like being in a loud crowded place for a long period of time they will start purring. Their eyes will slit to dim the light and develop a cat tail to fidget with by rubbing it between their fingers or against their face and claws grow longer to chew on. Once their in private they break down crying they'll shift into a cat hybrid and become furry all over their body. He’ll wring his tail, dig his nails in his skin and when he cries it's very ugly. He has a pacifier and piles a bunch of blankets ,pillows ,stuffed animals (loves clothes). He’ll curl up in them and knead biscuits to soothe himself until he falls asleep.

*Developed this form in middle school after learning that cats purring can be healing though his parents disliked this so he hides this form the most.

Anger/Manic/Buffalo

At first Bailey will try to walk away from the source of the issue but if he is continuously pushed, signs of being at their limit will pop up. First subtle signs are puffing smoke out of their nose ,ears getting pointy and canines becoming slightly longer. Next sign is eyes turning red and yellow, horns growing out the sides of his head ,fangs getting longer almost like tusks ,ears and face looking more buffalo-like. At this point Bailey is most likely yelling and getting aggressive and it will be difficult for him to calm down at this point, his body will start treating you as a threat and once he starts attacking he won't stop until he hears others screaming at him or physically get him to stop.

*This forms come from the original “buffalo demon” that bailey gets his powers from

Happy/Love Struck/Dog

This form is their “default” but will lean into these “puppy” mannerisms more if they're really comfortable ,happy or love struck. They become very clingy and even nuzzle himself against you also loves to be pet on his head and tummy. His eyes become blown out and fur on their chest puffs up and can grow around his neck . More common traits are them tapping his foot when excited, chewing/ biting, wagging tail and drooling when feeling intensely.

*This is the most stable form as its baileys “main” animal form ,they keep them for aesthetic purposes 

Scared/Rat

This form only happens if Bailey is genuinely in fear and the shift is sudden so he can run away and hide as quickly as possible. Though if suddenly surprised or scared rat whiskers/nose and or ears pop out .which they will reflexively cover with there hands out of embarrassment and if scared bad enough they might squeak at first instead of speaking.

*This form is one of the only shift their parents taught them in case of danger and their dad especially like jump scaring him ,all in good fun, there brother also has a similar reaction  

[impishtubist]

Socio-Biological take on wolfstar as wolf and dog ship and how the assumption ppl make about canine behavior apply to the dynamic:

People assume that dogs are more subservient and that wolves are, by default, more aggressive.

However, that isn't true. Wolves are not as trainable as dogs, but wild dogs are just as aggressive as wolves and are usually cleverer and more dangerous.

The second assumption is about the idea of canine pack dynamics - the whole alpha wolf/dog thing. Most ppl don't know that the paper that popularized the term was a misinterpretation.

I think it's very telling how people make the ‘dog person’ the one in need of constant validation, the stupider and weaker one. Someone who needs to be 'trained’ to get affection and enjoys being subservient to the right master. Someone will take abuse and will crawl back apologizing. Thinking that dogs are inherently lesser than wolves because of domestication and finding the idea of a dog being ‘Alpha’ to a wolf unthinkable.

On the other hand, wolves are both demonized and sexualized for being wild and dangerous. So the wolf person is the one who is attractively aggressive and dangerous. Is the one in control, who can not be controlled or contained, and justified in his aggressions and derision for domestication. So the idea of that person being subversive, soft and kind, willingly following others doesn't fit. They see domestication as weakness.

I kinda want a fic where people push these assumptions at wolfstar, who have personal experience of being canine, and they don't get it. But alas.

Breed that old man 2024 bonus:

Gray wolves and dogs are capable of producing fertile offspring when mating. Wolfdogs and mixed packs are a common occurrence where dogs and wolves share space, and packs are mostly parents and their pups.

I vote for letting Sirius knock up Remus with a whole litter of wolfdog puppies, starting a pack of their own. Cute as hell babies, and growling at ppl making stupid assumptions about the relationship and the pups. No, Remus isn't submissive to him, just his mate. Why do you think it's odd that Remus is the carrier parent?? And actually, don't you know inbreeding is bad?? His pups will be amazing because they are not ‘Pure breeds’.

Remus is shy but pretty smug because. His babies will be smart like his mate. And he wants a hugeeee pack. Lots of babies. Will show off that big belly every chance he has, and every single pup after they are born. Why the hell should he be embarrassed of his mate? He is so clever and so loyal and the best dad.

ALL OF THIS. Sorry it took me all day to post this, but this was the best thing to wake up to on my birthday and I got to spend the day marinating on it, thank you so much. I love all of this and also I hope this causes much chaos in the Wolfstar tag.

"I kinda want a fic where people push these assumptions at wolfstar, who have personal experience of being canine, and they don't get it." - I also want this fic and now I need to bully someone to write it.

[citynewsglobe]

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For these not sure of the place to start out, partaking with a foremost animal assault lawyer can supply an excellent start line for locating authorized illustration. Skilled authorized recommendation could make a big distinction within the end result of your case. They may also help you perceive the strengths and weaknesses of your case and information you thru every step of the authorized course of. Potential Compensation from a Lawsuit Submitting a canine chew damage lawsuit may end up in compensation for numerous damages. Understanding the potential compensation out there may also help you determine whether or not pursuing authorized motion is worth it. Medical Bills: Covers prices for speedy medical therapy, surgical procedures, medicines, and rehabilitation. Misplaced Wages: Compensation for revenue misplaced on account of break day work throughout restoration. Ache and Struggling: Damages for bodily ache, emotional misery, and diminished high quality of life. Lengthy-Time period Impacts: Compensation for any everlasting disabilities, scarring, or long-term well being points ensuing from the damage. Future Medical Remedies: Covers anticipated future medical bills associated to the damage. Life-style Changes: The price of vital modifications to your property or way of life as a result of damage, corresponding to mobility aids or remedy. What to Do Instantly After a Canine Chunk Following a canine chew incident, it's essential to take speedy steps that may considerably impression the result of a possible lawsuit. In search of immediate medical consideration is important to correctly doc and deal with your accidents. Reporting the incident to native animal management or regulation enforcement authorities is vital for guaranteeing that the incident is formally recorded.  Moreover, gathering detailed details about the canine and its proprietor, such because the canine’s breed, vaccination standing, and the proprietor’s contact data, could be precious within the occasion of authorized proceedings. Contacting a lawyer early within the course of can present essential steering and make it easier to perceive your rights. Early authorized session can help in figuring out the perfect plan of action and supply perception into proof assortment and key steps to strengthen your case. It’s additionally vital to completely doc all interactions with medical professionals and authorities. Protecting an in depth file of the incident, together with pictures of the accidents and any related paperwork, could be vital for constructing a powerful case. Lengthy-term Issues and Assist Canine chew accidents can have long-term bodily and psychological results. Due to this fact, it's important to contemplate long-term assist and rehabilitation wants when deciding whether or not to file a lawsuit. This consists of ongoing medical remedies, remedy, and any vital way of life changes. Making certain you have got the monetary means to cowl these long-term wants is essential. A profitable lawsuit can present the compensation required to assist your restoration and make it easier to regain your high quality of life. Authorized professionals can help in evaluating these long-term issues and constructing a case that addresses all facets of your damage. Consulting with specialists in animal assaults may present a complete view of the assist wanted for restoration. [ad_2] Supply hyperlink

[dogexpert08]

Understanding the Role of a Dog Behavior Expert Witness in Legal Cases

When dealing with legal cases involving dogs, particularly those related to dog bites, a dog behavior expert witness can play a crucial role. This article delves into the responsibilities and significance of these experts, as well as how they contribute to legal proceedings.

What is a Dog Behavior Expert Witness?

A dog behavior expert witness is a professional with specialized knowledge and experience in canine behavior. These experts are often called upon in legal cases to provide insights and opinions on various aspects of dog behavior, especially in incidents involving dog bites. Their expertise can help clarify the circumstances surrounding an event, aiding the court in understanding the dog's actions and the factors that may have influenced its behavior.

The Importance of Dog Behavior Experts in Legal Cases

Dog bite incidents can lead to serious legal battles, with plaintiffs seeking compensation for injuries sustained. In such cases, a dog bite legal expert is essential to unravel the complexities of the situation. These experts assess the behavior of the dog involved, examining factors such as the dog's training, environment, health, and previous behavior patterns. Their evaluations help determine whether the dog's actions were provoked, justified, or indicative of a dangerous temperament.

How Dog Behavior Expert Witnesses Contribute to Legal Proceedings

1. Evaluating the Dog's Behavior

One of the primary roles of a dog behavior expert witness is to evaluate the behavior of the dog involved in the incident. This involves a thorough assessment of the dog's history, including any prior aggressive behavior. The expert will analyze the dog's interactions with humans and other animals, as well as its general temperament. This evaluation helps establish whether the dog has a propensity for aggression or if the incident was an isolated occurrence.

2. Providing Testimony in Court

Dog behavior expert witnesses are often called upon to provide testimony in court. Their professional opinions can be pivotal in influencing the outcome of a case. By explaining complex behavioral concepts in understandable terms, these experts help judges and juries grasp the nuances of canine behavior. This can be particularly important in cases where the defense or prosecution hinges on understanding the motivations behind the dog's actions.

3. Offering Expert Reports

In addition to courtroom testimony, dog behavior experts provide detailed reports outlining their findings. These reports are used as evidence in legal proceedings, offering a comprehensive analysis of the dog's behavior and the circumstances leading to the incident. The clarity and depth of these reports can significantly impact the case, providing a solid foundation for legal arguments.

Qualifications of a Dog Behavior Expert Witness

To be considered a credible dog behavior expert witness, one must possess extensive knowledge and experience in the field of canine behavior. Typically, these experts have backgrounds in veterinary medicine, animal behavior science, or professional dog training. Certifications from reputable organizations, such as the International Association of Animal Behavior Consultants (IAABC) or the Certification Council for Professional Dog Trainers (CCPDT), further validate their expertise.

Choosing the Right Dog Behavior Expert Witness

Selecting the right dog behavior expert witness can make or break a legal case. It is essential to choose an expert with a proven track record and relevant qualifications. Attorneys should look for experts who have experience testifying in court and can articulate their findings clearly and convincingly.

Conclusion

In legal cases involving dog bites, the insights provided by a dog behavior expert witness are invaluable. These professionals help demystify canine behavior, offering objective analyses that aid the court in making informed decisions. By understanding the role and importance of these experts, legal professionals can better navigate the complexities of dog bite cases, ensuring justice is served.

For more information on dog behavior expert witnesses and their role in legal cases, feel free to reach out to qualified professionals in the field. Their expertise can be a crucial asset in any legal battle involving canine behavior.

[ilbound]

@cruciifx has requested a story : The wolf is a dangerous creature, there's no doubt about it, the way it curls around the mortal frame of something so fragile, breathing heavy with the speed needed to close the distance between it , and kaen . Though now as claws sit , tight around the other's frame , there's hesitation , a bleary recognition of the scent that sits on the roof of its mouth .  Instead the wolf sits , grip tightening around them , attempting to process everything in this moment  before retching away claws from mortal flesh. ( kaen .. )

𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

That m o n s t e r s exist in the good of men is not new a concept ; monsters have always existed , have always been there in the footnotes of history and shall be there until the last of it is written.  All of us keep close such secrets.  Perhaps this is why Kaen felt as if they understood Wolfwood on such a foundational , primitive level : like recognizes like , a monster notices a monster , no matter how repressed it might be.  They always sensed a p u l l towards it , a distinct sort of p r e s e n c e about it that called to them and convinced them – no matter its aggression , no matter its force pushing them to abandon it – to remain beside it.  Their incessant , curious suspicion is rewarded , finally , justified when the moon turns full and they are granted the revelation of its true nature not as a man … BUT A BEAST .

All the warnings it gave them now made sense ( leave , don’t waste your life on me , don’t get too close it’s too dangerous— ) , but they have long fallen on deaf ears and are useless and too late to matter for it lunges , gathers the delicate little redhead up in its grasp and nearly c r u s h e s them into itself.  Shock takes control , renders Kaen to be STILL & SILENT , scarred fingers gripping against the fur surrounding them.  Suspended in this moment , uncertain if their friend ( who does not think itself their friend ) will consider sparing them a most gruesome death , Kaen fleetingly considers their time with Wolfwood ( every well-meaning moment , every kindness & gesture of good faith they offered ) and wonders if it truly was all A MISTAKE ?  Would it … Decide against everything and devour them ?  Their eyes close tightly , tears burning their eyes.  Funny how they want to a p o l o g i z e when none of this is their fault , how they want terribly to c o n s o l e the great wolf and absolve its pain.

Threatened at the cusp of living or dying , with a beast curled tightly around them , Kaen lets free a near-inaudible whimper , ❝ … Please …❞  Please , what ?  Kill them ?  Spare them ?  Hard to say.  Perhaps they are pleading to whoever would listen that it will r e c o g n i z e them , that even in this state of feral hunger it will r e m e m b e r them— Then finally it turns them loose , jerking away as if having been s t r u c k .  Its claws tear their forearm and Kaen yelps , blood cresting against the sand , opposite hand coming up to press against the wound.  They shuffle away , looking up and up towards the hulking , massive canine that looms overhead , glowering uncertainly back down at them.  Its gaze is FIXED & POINTED , glinting dangerously.  Kaen is not sure if this means they are safe ( for now ) or if it is merely returning the favor for everything they have done for it.  Either way , the redhead shakily gets to their feet and slowly heads in the opposite direction , keeping an eye on it the entire time.

[reddevilmcnt]

Maksim had more pressing issues demanding his attention, pack matters, serious and urgent. Despite their power, his species remained justifiably wary. Humans had a long, damning history of trying to dominate, exploit, or eliminate anything different from themselves, and that mistrust ran so deep that werewolves ended up creating brutal ceremonies where humans were let go into the woods, chased, and killed as a twisted display of independence. As a result, many packs lived nomadically, staying out of sight, for attracting too much attention always ended badly for their kind.

He didn't believe more present threats were exaggerated, quite obviously, though he had grown accustomed to the paranoia. It wore on him. And yes, the Beta woman and the Elders were right, he had no partner to share such burdens with. Alphas were notoriously private, often lonely figures. Nevertheless, despite the weight he carried, Maksim could still find himself amused by the small things------ like irritating this fiery human. He felt the urge to grin spreading across his face, just as someone distracted Ross from their conversation. How fucking rude.

He caught a name, Rick. His rugged yet striking features contorted with mild frustration, blue eyes flashing as he turned abruptly and stormed off. He retreated to his large, secluded country home, the Alpha's residence, which was set further back from the others. Though the urge to end the call grew with his rising annoyance, Maksim resisted, determined to wait for Ross to rejoin their heated conversation, sharp little tongue and all. His pack would be disgusted, aghast that he was even sparing this human a second thought, let alone entertaining the pull Ross seemed to exert on him. It was a wholly unwanted attraction, igniting a volatile mix of animal desire and seething fury, but undeniable all the same. If only Ross hadn't acted so damn selflessly, they wouldn't be trapped in this infuriating mess to begin with. Yes, it was all the human's fucking fault.

By the time Maksim reached his porch and pushed open the front door, the comforting heat of his home enveloped him. Ross’s voice crackled through the phone again, prompting Maksim to roll his eyes, though the fiendish curl of his lips betrayed his amusement, sharp canines slightly visible.

"Yes?" he drawled with mock politeness, shrugging off his fur-lined cloak. He settled into one of his plush, crimson velvet armchairs just as a sweet, Omega servant appeared, presenting him with his usual post-meeting drink; a glass of rich whiskey. Maksim accepted it with a genuine smile, cradling the phone against his shoulder as he reclined back, relishing the moment. "So now I'm getting shit for having morals?" he challenged, one brunet brow arching as he took a slow sip. "I was raised to help those who help me. It's a survival instinct----- something you clearly lack."

Ross's threat of legal action should have triggered more concern. At worst, it could bring unwanted attention to the pack, yet it only made Maksim snicker, his voice low and taunting. "Oh, please do. That won't end well for anyone involved." Humans were fragile without the right weapons, as easy to break as brittle parchment. And if Ross insisted on escalating matters, Maksim could easily send his wolves after him----- end this all with finality. But something unspoken hung in the air between them, a mutual understanding that neither wanted to push that far. Odd, since Maksim rarely extended such leeway to humans.

Werewolves were straightforward----- fangs in your throat, raw aggression with no games. But humans? Their unpredictability was exhausting.

When Ross finally seemed to run out of complaints (shocking,) Maksim lifted his glass for another sip... only to nearly choke on it. That voice, soft, concerned... was Ross actually asking if he was okay? Was this some kind of trick? Maksim's tongue flicked over his lips, savoring the hint of rich chocolate lingering in the whiskey as his brow furrowed. Did Ross truly expect an honest answer? Physically, Maksim was mostly healed. Mentally, though? His responsibilities weighed on him. A pack reliant on his every decision. Possible threats looming from all sides. No, he wasn't okay.

But he was used to it.

"You don't have to worry about me," he replied, voice tight, the words awkward from lack of use. Alphas didn’t confide. They led, they protected. And a human's fleeting concern wouldn't change anything.

Maksim, undeterred, continued his blunt assessment: "You're snippy because you don't take time off when you should. Or get proper sleep. And, also, because you have an attitude problem."

His lips twitched, torn between irritation and reluctant amusement. Finally, the Alpha relented, voice dropping its earlier hostility.

"...Dale's Garage. On Rosewood Street. I can let him know you're coming," he exhaled, gaze turning to the ceiling, "Not going to ask Rick for help? He sounded worried. And, since I'm just an asshole..."

"first of all, asshole, i'm a middle school teacher." it's certainly not the most important point of the conversation, but ross says it like it's the absolute own he wants it to be, jaw tight and shoulders square like maksim is stanting right in front of him, can see the defiant little glint in his eye and heated little curl in his lip. gods, but this guy is fucking irritating. all ross had wanted to do was be a good guy, not leave the bleeding, possibly dying dude on the side of a road, and now he was dealing with what might be the biggest asshole on the planet. anger roiled in his stomach like a sickly mass of goo, clinging to him from the bottom up, bringing a heated flush to his cheeks that he's glad the asshole can't see over the phone.

as he opens his mouth to say more, another car rolls up, a coworker. the man leans out the window and lets out a low whistle at the state of his car, and then eyes ross in a way that makes his skin crawl a little. "tough luck on the car, everett. need a ride? i can take you out for a drink first, drown your sorrows." there's something almost sleezy to the way it's asked, and ross pulls the phone away from his mouth for just a moment, expression morphing into polite indifference as he shakes his head a little. "no thanks, rick. i'm on the phone with triple a, now. need to hang out and wait for the tow truck. you go have fun."

the other teacher then offers to wait with him and ross quickly shakes his head. "all good! thanks for the offer." and pulls the phone back to his mouth, twisting to face away from the other man and waiting a beat, two, three, before that car finally drives away. a shudder runs through him. fewer things worse than guys who can't take a hint. though looking at the state of his car, hearing that smarmy voice on the other end of his phone, he can think of at least two.

"second of all..." he continues, as if there wasn't a break in his conversation at all, heat in his voice a little less as he shakes the lingering effects of the interaction with his coworker. "... i don't understand what you think you mean by debt. you aren't actually going off of some ridiculous moral code where me picking you up off the pavement means i like, saved your fucking life, are you? literally anyone would have done that."

he knows it's not entirely the truth. not anyone would do that. not anyone would waste their time on someone who was probably a drunk in a barfight or whatever the hell else maksim could have been. "you're lucky i'm not asking for names of your guys and pressing charges for this, you know. vandalizing my car? because their buddy had a few too many and ended up on the side of the road?" there's a pause, a moment where something in ross softens and he leans against the vehicle, breathes out slowly. "are you feeling okay, by the way?"

because he's still that nice guy who picked him up off the side of the road to begin with. he cares on some level. maybe too much, considering the state his car is in, and whatever the hell else consequences meant. his free hand reaches up, pinches the bridge of his nose lightly to try and fight off the headache that's threatening to overwhelm him, and blows out a long, slow breath. "could i please get the name of your guy? i don't know any mechanics around here, and there's no way i'm gonna be able to afford this repair." there's something new in his tone now, defeat, mild desperation, a sadness that bubbles up from the pit of his stomach and settles in him like lead.

fingers are tight around the phone as he waits, breath baited. he isn't quite sure if that's gentlemanly enough, though part of him wants to tell the asshole that he'll figure it out himself, hang up, and forget he ever met him. that free hand rests against his chin, which throbs just a little under the touch, the memory of the morning, and he quickly shakes his head. "i'm sorry for being snippy. not exactly fun to get your car tossed, you know?"

[selectdachshunds]

Locating a Reputable Puppy Breeder: Some Tips

In case you're expecting to add one more shaggy ally to your family, finding a real and accepted pup reproducer is critical. While there are many spots to purchase a little canine, not all reproducers are made same. In this article, we'll look at the meaning of finding a trusted in little guy raiser and give tips to how to recognize one.

An accepted little guy raiser is someone who is centered around raising sound, lively puppies that are particularly blended and have a fair demeanor. They center around the success of their canines over advantages and will contribute time, effort, and resources into bringing their puppies up in a careful manner.

One of the most exceptional approaches to finding an accepted little guy raiser is through references. Ask mates, family, and partners who have actually purchased a little canine about their raiser and their experience. You can similarly truly investigate online reviews and assessments to get a sensation of a reproducer's standing.

Another huge variable to consider while picking a raiser is their straightforwardness. An accepted raiser should be straightforward about their imitating deals with, including the prosperity and inherited history of their canines, the conditions where their canines are kept, and the socialization and getting ready of their little canines. They should moreover give documentation, for instance, prosperity announcements and enrollment papers.

While visiting a reproducer, center around the condition of the workplace and the approach to acting of the canines. An accepted reproducer will keep their office great and particularly stayed aware of and give sufficient room, exercise, and improvement for their canines. The canines should moreover be pleasant, generally around blended, and give no signs of fear or aggression.

It's also fundamental to get some information about their repeating program, for instance, how as often as possible they breed their canines, what genetic tests they perform, and what steps they take to prevent ordinary clinical issues in their assortment. An accepted raiser will have a serious perception of their assortment and have the choice to give direct by guide answers to your requests.

All in all, be cautious about raisers who center around benefit over the success of their canines. Avoid raisers who sell youthful puppies on the web or through pet stores, as these little guys are commonly replicated in pup processes and presented to cutthroat conditions. An accepted raiser won't think twice about mull over strength of their canines for making a fast buck.

All things considered, finding an accepted little guy reproducer requires assessment, dauntlessness, and constancy. By representing the right requests, visiting the workplace, and searching for references, you can ensure that you're purchasing a sound and happy little canine from a reproducer who truly frequently considers their canines. Remember, a pup is a really long obligation, and it justifies requiring the speculation to find a raiser who will give you a durable companion.

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[animal25]

Bully Kutta: Lifespan, Care, Grooming, Health Training Special Info

The Bully Kutta has a fearsome character – bone that’s well justified. A catch-all name for mastiffs that appear in Pakistan, they’re enormous, aggressive, and dangerous.

They’re popular amongst youthful men who want to project a “ manliness ” image. It’s veritably much like how the English Bulldog is in England and away. That being said, the Bully Kutta isn’t a canine for the inexperienced or faint-hearted.

Originating from Sindh, a now-divided state that straddles Pakistan and India, Bully Kutta’s were bred as stalking and guarding tykes. Their size and aggression made them veritably popular as fighting tykes and this tradition continues( immorally) to this day.

Indeed emperors valued and respected them the great Mughal emperor Akbar, the third of his line, had Bully Kutta’s for stalking. Now Bully Kutta’s are substantially set up in Pakistan, but they’re still around in the border regions of India.

Origin: India/Pakistan

Height: Male: 76 to 107 cm, Female: 76 to 91 cm

Weight: Male: 70 to 90 kg, Female: 70 to 90 kg

Lifespan: 8 to 10 years

Colors: White, White, and Black, Fawn, Harlequin, White and brown, Black, Red, Brindle, etc.

Breed Characteristics

The Bully Kutta is large tykes and they’re veritably beautiful. They’re thick-gutted with a muscular structure. They have a broad head and tail tapering to a fine point. Their eyes are almond- shaped and the cognizance is standing but is frequently cropped.

Like the Bulldogs, they’ve loose skin, especially around the neck and the jaw. Their fleece is short. They’re generally white in achromatism. Although, combinations of other colors are also not uncommon. Other colors of these tykes are black, brown, brindle, and piebald.

History

Propositions suggest that, during the British irruption, the British colors were brought to India with his Mastiff tykes in the 1700s.

This strain was introduced into Greece by Xerxes the First when he marched towards this country 486- 465 B.C. The origin of the Alangu Mastiff can be traced back to Rajasthan, the Bhawalpur area of Punjab, and the desert area of Kutch.

The factual origins of the Bully Kutta are enough nebulous. They also have expansive controversies about the country of strain, with some claiming it to be India, while Pakistan.

This strain was primarily used for hunting large games similar to bears and wild boars during the Mughal Empire. Some experts believe that these tykes were firstly domesticated between,000 and,000 times agone.

Pakistani Bully Kutta

The Central Asian Mastiff has told the Bully Kutta strain present in northern Pakistan. It has been used substantially as a guard canine, and a home guard also appertained to as the Indian Alangu Mastiff. These tykes are known as the Indian Alangu Mastiff because they hail from southern India, specifically from Tiruchi and Thanjavur sections.

Bully Kutta was further developed from the original Indian Mastiffs during the British social rule in India and was used primarily for sporting purposes. The Bully Kutta was dubbed the Beast from the East as the strain has gained the character for being extremely aggressive.

The strain is readily available in Pakistan, but still rare in India as in the rest part of the world.

Bully Kutta Appearance

A large, solidly erected, and muscular strain, the Bully Kutta can weigh up to 170 pounds( some rare exemplifications have reached 200 pounds or 14 monuments). They can stand as high as 44 elevations for a manly and 36 elevations for a female. However, they can bristle with muscles, If well exercised.

There’s no real standardization of the strain because it isn’t regarded as a pure strain by utmost experts. The term Bully Kutta is a useful term for a group of analogous-looking Alaunt Hounds in Pakistan and India.

Personality and Temperament of Bully Kutta

As a largely intelligent and dominating strain, the Bully Kutta needs the right proprietor in order to thrive. With proper training, they’re responsive, fast learners.

Due to their size, it’s necessary for them to have a large living space. The Bully Kutta also requires regular exercise since they’re energetic. still, they can be lazy and sleep all day if they come wearied.

It’s important to keep in mind that a wearied canine is a destructive canine. Imagine how destructive a 150-plus pound canine can be. However, be prepared to give, at a minimum, If you’re considering getting a Bully Kutta.

At home, they have good personalities and are pious, devoted, and defensive of their family. When raised with, or mingled beforehand, they’re loving and sportful to other tykes, puppies, and children.

Territorial and intrepid, the Bully Kutta is always on alert and guarding its demesne against unpleasant guests. Flashback, as mentioned before, these tykes were bred for fighting, so they can be veritably aggressive.

They may suck first and ask questions latterly. So caution should be taken when new people and creatures visit. Some countries, similar to theU.K., have laws that banned the power of certain bully types due to the peril involved. However, it’s likely that the Bully Kutta will be set up on its list, If you live in one of these countries.

Watch a short videotape of the Bully Kutta in action. You’ll see just how fierce and massive these tykes can be.

More details:https://animalatoz.com/bully-kutta/

[furriesandflurries]

Charlie Barkin from the original All Dogs Go To Heaven is what I like to call the anti-protagonist. When you see an anthropomorphic dog character, you probably expect some sort of whimsical, happy-go-lucky energy, a character to look up to.

Instead, Charlie is a scheming, gambling, drinking, vulgar, manipulative character who treats his closest friend more like a lackey (with the tendency of being rather aggressive towards him), tricks an orphan into finding parents to take her, cheats death right under an angel's nose, uses his second chance to go back to his old ways, and outwardly badtalks Anne Marie right in front of her to Itchy.

You would think a character like that should be the villain, how could someone like this possibly be a hero in any context? That's the beauty of it, Charlie isn't some awe-inspiring character who's all about morality, he does things out of his own volition, he does nice things because he feels like it, like giving food to his ex-girlfriend Flo and her pups, or how he got Anne Marie out of Carface's clutches, or how he rescued her from the burning ship. And even through all that, in an ironic twist of fate, Charlie, the main protagonist, dies at the end of the film, but even then, he still gets his closure with Anne Marie and when she asks if she'll see him again, he tells that he will. Charlie in this film is unique for a protagonist, let alone a domestic canine lead, he does morally questionable things which the narrative doesn't try to justify with weak reasoning, but he still shows that he has a conscious, when the time is right, he'll spring into action to protect those he cares about, and the fact that he still dies in the end, while bittersweet, just adds to how his character arc is fulfilled by the end, Charlie doesn't become a whole new character by the end, he still feels like Charlie B. Barkin, and that's what I love about him. Which is why I refuse to consider the sequel onwards as true to his character as they nerfed him into a typical protagonist with none of the charm he once had, not mentioning the many other issues the sequel onwards has, eeehhhhhhhhhhh...

[gimmesumsuga]

Ps. I woof you

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Word count: 26K

Summary: The one with a happy accident of the furry, four-legged kind - “Are you calling my dog a slut?!” 

Warnings: Extreme fluff and domesticity, cursing, mild angst, smut inclusive of: fingering, oral sex (female receiving) and unprotected penetrative sex 

** Click here to read on Archive of our own (AO3) should the read more on mobile not work due to fic length **

Thank you @readyplayerhobi​ for my super cute banner and @johobi​ for the gorgeous moodboard! ^^

“Seriously?!” Sitting up with a suddenness that borders on miraculous given how fast asleep you were just a few blissful moments ago, you glare out into the darkness that fills your room.  

The wall opposite your bed may as well be vibrating, so insistent is the thud of bass that’s thumping through from the apartment next door, and if you thought you were pissed about being so rudely awakened in the middle of the night, that’s nothing compared to the indignance of your dog, Remi.  Barking her head off, you’re met by the sight of her pacing up and down the span of the wall once you turn on the light, blinking as your eyes adjust to the offending brightness.  

“This is just so not the time,” you hiss as you swing your legs out of bed and then stalk across the room to hammer your fist against the plaster, swearing under your breath.  Usually, you’re quite quick to try and stifle Remi when she gets her knickers all in a twist, but not right now - not when her yapping is perfectly justified and the dog next door then has the sheer gall to start barking back.  

“Oh, it’s on,” you grit out through your teeth, banging your fist against the wall with renewed vigour ‘til your fist is sore and Remi’s so worked up that she’s up on her hind legs pawing the paintwork right alongside you.  

Thankfully, your next-door neighbour soon gets the message and turns off his music, no doubt feeling cowed at having been met with such vehement disapproval from the opposite side of the wall.  You sigh, satisfied, but it seems Remi has no such intention of letting it go so lightly, her barking match with her nemesis next door carrying on despite the battle being over.  

“Hey, hey,” you hush as you squat down to her level, running your fingers through her fur, “It’s ok, you can stop now, Rem.  We won, it’s ok.”  She quietens slightly at the reassuring tone of your voice but, stubborn as she is, she remains determined to get the last bark in, growling low in her throat and staring at the wall until she’s absolutely sure that the dog next door has been forced to back down.  

She’s always been the same; vocal even as a pup.  She’s a canine of very few faults (or so you like to believe), but you’ll admit that she can be a little too loud at times - a little too quick to run her mouth off at the slightest unfamiliar noise despite you discouraging her from it as best you can.  

It was actually one of the reasons you and your ex broke up, as silly as that sounds.  He’d always been intolerant of Remi’s noise - of anything being anything other than perfectly perfect, frankly  - and the final straw had come when one day, in a fit of red-faced rage, he’d taken off his shoe and thrown it at her from across the room.   She’d yelped and ran off to hide, and that’d been it.  By dinner time that evening, he’d been in the process of moving out his things.  A two-year relationship over, just like that. 

Good riddance, as far as you were concerned.  Remi was your roommate years before he ever had been; your loyalties lay with her, as they do to this day.  

And boy, does she know it.  You think it to yourself now, as you lay back down in bed and she sits at your bedside with her chin rested on the covers looking up at you with her big, brown puppy-dog eyes.  

“Oh come on then,” you grumble, shifting over and patting the space you’ve made for her atop the duvet.  She leaps up, tail wagging, and quickly circles on the spot before lying down snuggled up against you, exhaling noisily in contentment as you fuss her soft, pointed ears. “You’re never going to make any friends if you keep barking at everyone all the time, you know.”  Remi closes her eyes, utterly unrepentant.  

Not that it’ll soon matter what the next-door neighbours think of you, that is - not if you don’t ace the interview that you’re due to attend in a disgustingly short amount of time.  You really should’ve gone to bed earlier, given that the ability to pay your rent is now riding on exactly three and a half hours sleep should you not manage to drift off again for what little time you have left before your alarm is set.  

Luckily, the slow rise and fall of Remi’s soft little body lying next to yours proves as soothing as you’d hoped it would, and you’re able to steal a couple of hours more of precious sleep before having to drag your unwilling carcass out of bed and into a pair of high heels.  Full of nerves, you bite your nails the whole way there and are forced to make a pitstop in a public restroom prior to your arrival (nervous bowels for the win), but despite all that, you get the feeling the interview actually goes rather well.  It’s not for anything fancy, mind - a retail position at one of the more high-end-but-not-quite-designer clothing stores in the city - but the woman quizzing you seems friendly enough, all nods and smiles and shiny white teeth.  You even manage to make her laugh, which is impressive given how lame your sense of humour can get when you’re nervous.  

She tells you that you can expect to hear back by the end of the working day, and whilst at first that sounds perfectly reasonable, by the time you’ve gotten home and changed into something more comfortable you’re already going out of your mind.  Remi seems to pick up on your unease, too, sitting dutifully by your side as you glance at the arm of the sofa where your phone lies every other second, her little ears alert and twitching.    

It’s only after you’ve checked it’s not on silent for perhaps the hundredth time that you finally decide you’ve had enough.  Decisive, you rise to your feet and slip on your shoes before grabbing Remi’s lead from where it hangs by the side of the door.  

“Who wants to go on a walk, huh?” you offer, but having already seen you reach for her lead, Remi is already beside herself with excitement.  Atop her back her fuzzy little tail is wagging up a storm, dusting back and forth across the floor once she finally calms down enough to plop her bottom down onto the laminate and let you actually attach her to the thing.  

“Ok, ok, don’t pull,” you murmur mostly for your own benefit as you open up the door and then pause to lock up, her lead looped around your wrist.  Heaven knows Remi’s not listening anyway - not when she’s this wound up.   “Jeez, I’m coming!” you complain, turning on the spot when she yaps impatiently only to take one step towards the staircase and then come to a complete stop once you realise someone’s already coming up the other way.  

That someone being Min Yoongi, your aforementioned next-door neighbour, and his dog, a little toy poodle you’re not entirely sure of the name of.  

If you’re honest, you’re barely on a first-name basis with the man himself, nevermind his canine companion.  You’re fairly certain you remember him introducing himself when you first moved in, but other than that you’ve had very little to do with each other since then apart from the one time you accidentally picked up his mail and he came knocking on your door in search of it.  You remember thinking he was cute, too, back then, but despite the smiles that you’ve offered up whenever you may pass in the hall, Yoongi has remained somewhat of a mystery.  

Is he just shy, perhaps?  Or is he really as aloof and disinterested as the perma-furrow in his brow might have you believe?  

Of course, as soon as Remi spots the other dog she starts whimpering and pulling even more with the want to go and say hello, which is ridiculous, really, because you know as the moment the poodle comes close she’ll turn tail and run - which lo and behold, she does.  Their noses have barely touched when she jumps backwards and then scampers to hide behind your legs, tangling you up in her lead as she goes.  

“Oh Remi, you big wuss!” you sigh as you fight to shuffle backwards enough for Yoongi and his dog to actually be able to get past - a task easier said than done given that the poodle seems set on chasing after her, tangling you up even more.  

“Holly, leave it,” you hear Yoongi warn as you peer down at the dogs dancing between your legs, praying for Remi not to do anything that might embarrass the both of you.  

She’s never been aggressive before - all bark and no bite through and through - but there’s always a first time… 

As if right on cue, Remi releases a deep, rumbling growl as a warning once it becomes apparent that Holly doesn’t have any intention of backing off without a fight.  You cringe at the sound, embarrassed.  

“Hey!  Be nice!” you scold as the other dog very quickly turns tail and runs back to his owner, startled.   You feel your cheeks fill with heat as Yoongi scoops Holly off the ground and into his arms, making a mental note to not give Remi any of her usual bedtime treats this evening.  

“I’m really sorry about that,” you gush despite Remi looking anything but, sat scratching herself at your feet without a care in the world.  

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shrugs, glancing down at Holly with a hint of a smile, “‘Bout time someone put him in his place.”  You can’t quite think what to say to that - caught off guard by how very different Yoongi looks when there’s a smile on his face rather than a frown.   

Yeah, he’s definitely cute.  Cute button nose?  Check.  Honey-boy smile?  Check.  Even the dye job on his hair is better than your own - a deep mahogany red to suit the changing of the seasons.  

Your silence earns you a quizzical look but no further comment, and mentally you kick yourself for being such an absolute loser as Yoongi turns and heads back towards his apartment, Holly still cradled in his arms.  

"And I'm sorry about last night!" you call after him like the unstoppable moron you are.  

Why would you bring that up?!  There's nothing but more awkwardness in-store by mentioning that, surely?! 

Still, deep down you feel obliged to offer some sort of apology.  After all, you expect Yoongi would have had the pleasure of having to overhear some of yours and your ex's more colourful arguments in the past.  Not to mention the fact that Remi decides to bark every time she sees a bicycle on the television screen.  

“It’s just… I had an interview this morning,” you explain as he slowly turns back around to face you again, one eyebrow slightly raised, “And I already went to bed late, so…” 

“Don’t worry about it.” You wonder if you’re imagining the way Yoongi averts his gaze and seems to shrink in on himself a little bit as he looks at Holly rather than you.  “I should apologise.  I didn’t realise how late it was.  Lose track of time when inspiration hits.”  

“Oh, that was you?” you enquire before stopping to think that maybe Yoongi might not want to share any further.  He appears to hesitate before answering, but when he does he offers you a small smile and another shrug of his shoulders along with it.  

“I’ve got a home studio,” he explains, exhaling with amusement before adding, “Not gotten around to soundproofing it yet.  Obviously.” 

So he works in the music business, huh?  You figure he must be pretty good, considering how you’ve always presumed it’s been mainstream chart stuff that you’ve been hearing through the walls in the past.  

“That’s really cool,” you grin, pleased to see him smile back, and you’re just about to open your mouth to keep the small talk going when all of a sudden Remi tugs sharply on her lead, jolting you off balance.  Flustered, you glare at her accusingly only to see her staring right back, impatient for the walk she’s been promised.  

Little madam would be tapping her paw on the floor and checking her watch if she only knew how… 

Giggling to mask your embarrassment, you make your excuses and bid Yoongi farewell, and you’re about halfway down the concrete steps to take you to the ground floor when suddenly his voice calls after you,

“How did it go?”  Looking up, you see his face peering down at you over the railings. The apples of his cheeks look even more pinchable from below; so smooth and sweet and round.  "The interview, I mean," he explains further when all you do is gawp back up at him, mouth hanging ajar.  

"Oh!" Could this really be real?  Is Yoongi - introverted, mysterious Min Yoongi -  taking an active interest in you?  Well, not you necessarily, but something to do with you, nonetheless.  "Yeah, I mean, I think it went pretty well."  He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 

"Well, good luck with it," he says, and all of a sudden Holly's face pops over the side too, tongue lolling out.  At your feet, Remi grumbles disgruntedly.  

"Thanks," you reply, face aching with the effort it's taking for you to try not to grin too hard.  "Keeping all my fingers crossed."  Yoongi gives you one last final nod and then disappears out of sight, keys jingling as he opens his front door, and you’re left giddy in his wake.  

Realistically, you know this whole exchange was little more than every day ordinary - some might even say mundane - but it's caught you so off guard that you very nearly fall down the stairs when Remi barks you back to reality, tugging once more on her lead.  

"Oh alright, alright, alright…"

  ****

  Turns out, your gut feeling that the interview went well was right. 

Not that you’d actually found that out until much later on in the day, mind.  Thanks to all the faffing around you’d been doing with your phone prior to leaving the house, you’d managed to leave it by the front door rather than take it with you, and by the time you’d gotten home, there were three missed calls and a rather perturbed sounding voicemail waiting for you.  Still, better late than never, eh?  You were just glad your new employer hadn’t mistaken your sudden unavailability as a lack of enthusiasm; full of spluttered apologies and excuses by the time you eventually called them back.  

That was two weeks ago, now, and you’ve been pleasantly surprised as to how well things have been going so far.  Being a high-end store, the clientele are somewhat more demanding than you’ve been used to before, but the money’s good and your new colleagues have been more welcoming than you could’ve hoped.  Everything’s been coming up roses,  and whilst you’re revelling in your newfound financial security, Remi is… well, Remi’s not been taking to it quite so well.  

It was only a month or two that you were unemployed prior to starting this job, but it seems as though that was time enough for Remi to become all too accustomed to you spending all your time at home.  You’ve no idea how she is when you’re out during your shifts, but the way she sits whining at the front door whilst you get ready for work is enough to break your heart alone, and she’s so excited to see you every time you get back that it doesn’t take a genius to assume she’s been mourning your absence every moment that you’re gone.  

It makes you feel horrifically guilty, but what else can you do?  You need to work and dog sitters are a luxury you can't afford - at least not right now, anyway.   And so of course, like every individual who’s ever suffered with ‘mom guilt’, you end up over-compensating to make up for it; new toys, tastier treats, extra-long walks.  Basically, anything Remi might ever want.  

And it’s on one of these longer walks that you finally end up bumping into Yoongi and his canine companion again, meandering through the park nearest your home.  He doesn’t spot you, at first, which gives you ample opportunity to observe the fondness with which he watches Holly chasing the autumn leaves dancing along the path with each gust of wind.  You even get to hear him laugh for the very first time when Holly abandons the leaves and opts to chase his tail instead, and the whole scene is so endearing that you can’t help but stop and scrunch your nose at the two of them, grinning to yourself from where you linger further down the path.  

Does he have any idea how cute he is, you wonder?  You can’t imagine Yoongi would be the type of guy who’d appreciate hearing it, should you ever work up the courage to tell him so.  

“Hey!” you call out once you’ve mustered up the courage to finally reveal yourself, approaching them with Remi’s lead held firmly in hand.  On hearing your voice, Yoongi looks up from where he’d squatted down to give Holly a fuss, his small eyes widening infinitesimally once he realises it’s you. 

“Oh, hey,” he greets, quickly straightening up and brushing off the leaves that’d gotten caught on the front of his long, black coat.  

“How’s it going?”  You keep a close eye on Remi as you approach, and whilst she still tugs on the lead in an attempt to rush forward, you’re glad to find that this time around the two of them are somewhat calmer as to how they go about greeting each other.  There’s plenty of sniffing, still, and plenty of bouncing around, but apparently Holly is a quick learner and knows better than to come on so strong this time around.  

“Yeah, not bad.”  You can tell Yoongi’s a responsible owner by the way he closely watches Holly as the two dogs say hello, but as he glances up you can’t help but notice that there are dark circles under Yoongi’s eyes despite his profession of good health.  

Has he been staying up late again, absorbed in his music?  If he has, he must’ve had the forethought to use some headphones, as you haven’t been awoken during the night at all ever since that fateful evening a couple of weeks ago.  

“Hey, uh, how’d it turn out with that job, in the end?” Yoongi asks, and it’s stupid but you swear you feel your insides flutter with excitement at a) the fact that he remembered and b) would care enough to ask about it further on down the line.   

“Really good!” you reply as Remi sinks down into a playful stance amongst the leaves, bottom eagerly wiggling. “I got it, yeah!  Started last week.”  Yoongi smiles mildly, though it’s nowhere near the toothy grin you’d seen him bestow on Holly earlier.  What would you have to do to earn one of those, you wonder?  

“I figured you had.”  Your brows furrow in curiosity as he slips one hand into his pocket, shifting his weight.  

“Oh?  How’d you work that out?”  He glances at Remi for a second, pausing before he answers.  

“Your dog, Remi?” You nod, growing more curious with every second. “Well, she’s gotten kind of… noisy since you went back to work.”  

Oh.  Oh shit.  

Your embarrassment must show all over your face because Yoongi’s quick to continue explaining, his own expression turning into one of worry.  

“I mean, it’s no trouble.  It’s not like I’m trying to sleep or anything and my headphones cancel her barking out anyway,” he rambles as the two dogs continue to spring back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. “It’s just… I feel kind of sorry for her, is all.”  

And oh boy, if you didn’t feel guilty already about leaving her than you sure do now.  What must Yoongi think of you?  Does he think you’re being neglectful of her?  That you’re some horrible, conscienceless owner?  Oh god, what if he reports you for animal cruelty or something?  

“I didn’t… um…” Realising you’re on the verge of bursting into tears, you purse your lips and look down at Remi for a second or two, trying to remind yourself that no matter what anyone may think, you’re doing the best you can.  She’s in good health and she’s happy… most of the time.  “I didn’t realise she was getting so upset while I was gone,” you say, blinking back the tears and forcing a smile as you shrug your shoulders like it’s not so much of a big deal.  “Maybe I’ll have to look into a sitter, or… or…” 

“I didn’t mention it to try and make you feel bad,” Yoongi gently interrupts, and you can tell that he’s being genuine from the tone in which he says it.  Somehow, he doesn’t strike you as the sort to bullshit someone just to spare their feelings.  “I’ve just been thinking; maybe I can take her out with me for a walk in the afternoon?  I’ll be walking Holly anyway, so…”  

“Are you serious?!” you exclaim, your sheer volume and enthusiasm so unexpected that Yoongi actually takes an involuntary step back, his eyes widening in alarm.  Even the dogs momentarily stop their play,  heads cocked to the side as they stare up at you, bemused.  “That’d be amazing, thank you!”  Yoongi smiles, rubbing bashfully at his neck, and if it weren’t for the fact you’re unsure of how he’d respond, you’d have thrown your arms around him already while you girlishly squeal your thanks.  

“Really, it’s no big deal,” he dismisses, but it’s too late.  As far as you’re concerned you’re already indebted to him for being kind enough to merely suggest it.  

“It is to me,” you smile and if you didn’t know any better you’d swear that Yoongi’s cheeks turn a softer shade pinker as he glances down at the floor, clearing his throat.  

“You can just drop a key over whenever.  Whatever’s easier for you.”  He shrugs his shoulders, all nonchalance in spite of your beaming smile.  Below you, Holly’s happily letting Remi clean the inside of his ears, oblivious.    

“Thanks, Yoongi.”  He looks up, and this time you know you’re not imagining the awkward blush dusted along his cheekbones.  “I owe you one.”  

It isn’t until later on, long after you’ve gotten home and whilst you’re trying (ie. failing) to get to sleep, that it suddenly dawns on you that there may be one potential downside to Yoongi’s generous offer.  

Now that you’ve given Yoongi your spare key, he can just come moseying on into your apartment any time he likes.  Any sane person would surely be concerned about the potential security risk that poses, surely, but you?  Oh no, your anxieties are centred around the fact that this means that Yoongi will get to see what an absolute shit-tip your apartment is and suss you out as the grotty little goblin you are, and thereby conclude that he should never, ever, ever speak to you again, for as long as you both shall live.  

Unsurprisingly, as soon as you realise this you’re even less able to sleep than you were before and proceed to spend the next four hours tidying up all the areas in the apartment you figure Yoongi is most likely to see.   You make a pretty good job of it, too, though you start to question whether it was worth it when you have to spend the next following day at work feeling as though you’ve got some sort of fatigue-induced hangover - dry mouth and all.  

It was, though, no doubt.  Once you finally arrive home all blurry eyes and aching feet, Remi seems a lot less manic than she has these past couple weeks when she’s been left alone.  She’s still pleased to see you, of course, but it’s a happy tail wag rather than a desperate nipping at your fingers or jumping up your legs like before.  You notice that Yoongi has re-filled her water bowl, too, and the calmness he’s imbued in her seems to last throughout the whole evening.  She's so calm, in fact, that you can’t help but wonder if he might’ve slipped something into said water bowl.  

If he did, you’d sure like to know what it was… 

And so it continues throughout the weeks that follow.  You and Yoongi never actually cross paths - much to your dismay - but Remi continues to relish her daily adventures out and about the town without you.  And it’s not just Remi that benefits from your newfound arrangement, either; with the time that you’d normally use to walk her yourself now no longer needed, you’re free to indulge in the self-care rituals that’d fallen by the wayside once the past few weeks.  Bubble-baths, face masks, deep cleanses - your skin has never looked better! 

“This is the life, huh Rem?” you sigh in contentment, glancing over to where she’s currently lounging atop the closed toilet seat opposite your bathtub, keeping you company whilst you luxuriate.   She says nothing, obviously, but looks happy enough with her chin rested on the sink and eyes half-closed.  She yawns, showing off all her teeth, and it catches - your mouth opening in a great big yawn as you reach out of the tub for the glass of wine precariously perched on the side.  

So what if it’s only three in the afternoon?  This is what weekends off work are for, and if Remi’s not judging you then you’re not about to go giving yourself a hard time either.

“What do you say to a little nap after this, hm?” Glass now empty, your fingers are starting to look a little bit pruney as you place it back on the side, and you take that as a sign to say you’ve been wallowing in your own filth long enough.  It’s time to make a move.  

With a great big groan of effort, you hoist yourself up out of the water and stand up, grinning to yourself at the little headrush that comes with it - purely from the change in blood pressure, obviously. Nothing to do with your midday alcohol consumption at all.  Unfortunately, your amusement is short-lived once you realise that in your eagerness to soak you’d completely forgotten to bring your towel along.  

“Ah shit,” you huff, climbing out onto the bathmat and then wiggling yourself in an attempt to drip dry as best you can before you venture out to where you know you’ve left it hanging on the radiator out in the hall.  Remi watches your shuffle curiously but it’s not as though she hasn’t already seen it all before, and you flash her a grin before covering up what you can with one hand and opening up the door, shivering a little as the cold air hits you.  

Suddenly, Remi darts out from the bathroom from between your legs, barking like mad, and maybe it’s because the alcohol has slowed your reflexes - or maybe you’re just a little slow in general - but it isn’t until you hear the front door shut and Yoongi calling Remi’s name that the slow realisation of what’s happening hits you. 

Remi's walk.  Yoongi's come to take Remi on her walk because as far as he knows you’re working, and why on earth would you have been smart enough to have had the forethought to let him know that you’re not?!   

“Hi Rem,” you hear Yoongi say once she’s finished yapping, her aggression replaced by excited whining as she no doubt dances around his feet.  Like an idiot, you’re so blindsided by his sudden arrival that all you can do is stand frozen in the hallway - the hallway that Yoongi would be able to see directly down should he only think to move a few paces to the left.  “You ready for walkies, girl?” 

Oh god, why now?!  Why you?!  

Remi lets out a bark of excitement and then, to your horror, you realise she’s turned tail and decided to come and fetch you to join in with all the fun, the bell on her collar jangling as she runs towards you, ushering in your doom.  

“Where are you off to?  You don’t want to go out today?  That’s a shame because Holly-”  The sound of Yoongi’s voice coming closer is finally enough to kick you into gear, and it’s with a yelp of alarm that you reach out and snatch the towel off the radiator and clutch it to your chest just in time for Yoongi to round the corner and come into sight.  

His eyes widen comically when he sees you, his mouth popping open as he freezes in the doorway and you scramble to cover yourself.  You’re not sure how much he actually saw but you think he must’ve seen something , judging by his reaction.  Between you, Remi runs back and forth, joyfully oblivious.  Your whole body feels aflame with embarrassment, and given the rising blush you can see on Yoongi’s cheeks you’d guess he’s not faring much better. 

“Um… I-”  you stutter out, holding the towel in place against your chest in case Remi decides to jump up your legs and yank it down. “I-I’m not working this weekend and-”  

Shamefully, Yoongi doesn’t even give you a chance to finish explaining.  With nothing more than a rapid series of blinks and a stiff nod, he turns around on the spot and walks out of your apartment faster than you’ve ever seen him move before, and though you and Remi rush aimlessly after him, he’s too quick to catch.  He doesn’t even shut the door after himself properly, so eager is he to escape.  

“Poor guy must've gone to pour bleach in his eyes," you sigh whilst Remi stares forlornly at the door as you press it shut, her tail hanging sadly between her legs.  You can only hope you haven’t scarred him for life and ruined your arrangement, and you tell yourself that it’s for Remi’s sake but really, you’re not sure your ego could handle it if it turned out Yoongi had taken one look at you naked and decided never to speak to you again.  

You run your fingers through the wet mass of tangles that is your hair, sighing once more as you head towards the kitchen, uncaring that you’re likely dripping bathwater all over the floor.  

“I think it’s time for another drink, Rem, don’t you?”  

  Remi doesn’t get walked that afternoon, much to her displeasure, and the reasons for that are twofold.  One - after having chugged down another two large glasses of wine in hopes of erasing your short-term memory, you were hardly in any fit state to pry yourself up off the sofa let alone walk around the block.    And two - even if you could walk, you would’ve still had to muster up the courage to step outside your front door.  Bumping into Yoongi and having him run away from you twice in one day was far too distressing a prospect for you to even consider attempting to move. 

Instead, you’d spent the rest of the afternoon lying about on the sofa, wallowing in your own self-pity until you’d fallen asleep in nothing but your towel, drooling all over the cushions.  It’d seemed like a good idea at the time, but the you of this morning is full of remorse having woken up with the back of her hair sticking out like a bird’s backside, a headache, and a craving for fried food that just won’t subside.  

It doesn’t help that Remi’s bouncing off the walls, either, and eventually you come to the conclusion that there’s really no way you can avoid taking her out for any longer.  You’re just going to have to pull on your big girl pants and if you see him, well… then you’ll just have to cross that bridge when it comes to it.  You’re both adults.  This shouldn’t be this big of a deal.  

But oh god it totally is because he’s so cute and what if he thinks you looked gross and oh god, oh god, oh god! 

But it’s fine.  Of course it’s fine, because you tell yourself it’ll be fine, and you didn’t bump into him for months at a time after you’d first moved in so why should it happen again now?  

Thankfully, fate appears to be on your side (or taking pity on you, at least).  You make it out of your building without seeing neither hide nor hair of your unwitting flashee - if that’s even a word - and despite having forgotten your purse, you still manage to find some change in the depths of your pockets for a snack from the food cart just outside the park.  

You munch it happily as Remi leads the way, darting from one side of the sunshine dappled pavement to the other to pee on everything she can find, and you’re just thinking about what a good call it was to get out of the house for a little while when you suddenly hear a familiar voice calling an all-too-familiar name and your stomach drops with dread.

Oh, fate can go fuck herself.  Fickle bitch. 

You come to an abrupt stop, eyes drawn to where your next-door neighbour is currently frolicking through the small field a little further down the path, just to your right.  

Frolicking is probably the wrong word, really, but you’re not sure what to call the gangly waving of arms and legs you can see going on past the small group of trees that’s concealing you from sight.  Holly’s off lead, you can tell that much, and Yoongi seems like he's having fun chasing after him, letting out some strange, high-pitched laugh when he almost trips over that has you guffawing in turn - a sound you quickly smother with the napkin you hadn’t yet thought to throw away.  

Yoongi drops to his knees amongst the grass and Holly is quick to take advantage, climbing up onto his owner’s lap to lick Yoongi’s face.  He groans and he grimaces, but you can still see him smiling as he wipes away the offending slobber, and you’re just about to start swooning at the way he’s lovingly fussing Holly’s ears when Remi startles you out of your reverie with a purposeful tug on her lead. 

Just like you, she’s spotted the object of your affections and is now desperate to make her way over, whining and pacing restlessly to and fro.  

“Rem, shh!” you hush when she lets out a bark of objection at your attempt to pull her back from the treeline.  As much as you enjoy seeing Yoongi you don’t actually want to see him right now, and if Remi keeps going the way she is you won’t end up with much of a choice in the matter.  

“Again, Hol?!  Really?!” Glancing over, you see Yoongi’s expression turn to one of distaste as Holly dips into a squat right in front of him, not a shred of thought spared for dignity.  You figure this is the best time to hurry on past while he’s suitably distracted but Remi doesn’t make it easy, pulling backwards as you try to walk on and then planting her bottom firmly on the ground once she realises brute strength is getting her very far.  

“I can just pick you up, you know,” you threaten, narrowing your eyes at her, but just as you’re stalking forward about to carry out the said threat, you’re distracted by the sight of Yoongi rummaging through his pockets, lips moving as though he’s grumbling to himself.  

You’ve seen that dance before; it’s one you know well, given how forgetful you can be.  He’s either forgotten his poo bags or run out of them altogether, and now you’re faced with the moral dilemma of knowing you have a brand new roll stashed away in your pocket.   As if sensing your hesitation, Remi stares at you as you squat down to her level, hands outstretched.    

‘Really?’ her eyes say, ‘Are you really going to just let him leave it there?  What if someone steps in it?  Think of the children -'

“Oh fine!” you huff, standing up straight and marching out onto the grass before you lose your nerve, Remi trotting along happily at your side.  

Must you really be so god damn conscientious all the time?  You swear it causes you nothing but trouble.

Before Yoongi’s even realised you’re there, you’re grabbing the roll from your pocket and thrusting it into his line of sight. 

“Here,” you offer as he startles, glancing from you down to Remi in momentary bewilderment.  You hadn’t meant to sound so gruff but unless you’d forced the word out you probably wouldn’t have been able to say anything at all, so you plaster a nervous smile onto your face in time for when he looks at you again, willing your posture to relax.   

“Uh, thanks,” he says he takes them from your palm and pulls one off, quickly putting it to good use.  Rather than stand there staring you turn your attention to Remi, mortified to see she’s taken a break from dancing back and forth with Holly in favour of sitting and licking her genitals in the most unladylike fashion.   

“Why don’t you go have a run with Holly and just… not do that,” you mumble as you bend to unclip the lead from her harness, granting her freedom.  She takes you up on your offer immediately, and the moment she’s loose the two of them go bounding off across the field as fast as they can go, Holly’s ears flapping in the wind.   You let out a laugh as Remi manages to dodge and weave around the slightly smaller dog, never quite letting him catch her but keeping close enough to maintain his interest. 

If only you were so skilled at the whole ‘treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen’ thing… 

“She’s really fast,” Yoongi comments, and as soon as he speaks it’s as though all the awkwardness comes flooding back for the both of you.  He can’t even seem to look you in the eye. “For a little dog.”  

“Yeah,” you chuckle back in the direction of your shoes, “She’s always acted like she’s twice her size.  Too big for her boots.”  

The two of you lapse into silence, Yoongi’s hands shuffling in his pockets whilst yours mess with your sleeves.  If only you could be so carefree as your canine companions who’ve now ceased their running and are circling around one another instead, sniffing each other out.  They’re having a great time, whereas the silence between you is quickly beginning to feel stifling, and you soon come to the conclusion that awkward or not, leaving things unaddressed like this is doing no good.  You’re just going to have to say something, even if it’s just to apologise and- 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi suddenly blurts out just as you were opening your mouth to do the same.  Your eyes meet and then quickly dart away again, cheeks flushed with heat.  “I didn’t mean to walk in- I mean, I didn’t realise you were home.”  

“That’s ok,” you rush to excuse, “It was my fault, I should’ve let you know I wasn’t working.”  You brave a look at him, smiling sheepishly.  “Sorry if I… gave you a shock.”  Yoongi shakes his head, a small smile on his face as he waves his hand dismissively.  

“I’ve seen worse, believe me,” he chortles, and then as if suddenly realising what it is he’s just said his eyes ping open wide and his face fills with colour.  “Sorry, that sounded bad, I-” He stops talking when he notices you’ve startled giggling at his expense, your shoulders shaking with mirth.  What he said wasn’t even that funny - hell, some might even be insulted - but he just looks so adorable when he gets all flustered that you just can’t help yourself.  It’s either laugh or start cooing and pinching his cheeks, and you doubt he’d appreciate the latter.  Soon enough, he’s chuckling along too - albeit rubbing at the flush on his neck as he does so.  

“Is it just me or have you noticed how all of our conversations seem to end up with one us apologising?” you observe once you’ve managed to stifle your giggling, happy with how much lighter the mood feels now that you’ve aired everything out.  

“I hadn’t until you just pointed it out,” Yoongi admits, absently swinging the hand in which he’s holding Holly’s lead as he looks out across the field towards the two of them.  His profile is so pretty; such a sharp jaw for such rounded cheeks to sit on.  “I must make an effort to be more interesting.”  

“You’re already plenty interesting.”  The words are out of your mouth before they’ve even taken form in your head, and you instantly wish you could catch them and stuff them back in as Yoongi’s eyebrows rise, his head turning to look back your way.  “I mean… what I meant was-” you stammer as the smallest of smiles tugs at his delicate lips, and though you love to see it you can’t bear to look him right now, too busy wishing the ground would just swallow you up and-

“Shit!”  You sharply look up, just in time to see Yoongi take off running at full speed, and your heart starts pounding for a completely different reason as you look ahead to where he’s headed and realise what it is that has him moving so fast. 

Where the two dogs had been so happily sniffing around one another just a moment ago, Remi now seems to be in some sort of distress.  You immediately assume they’re fighting given how loud she’s whining, but as you take in the sight of Holly mounting her rear end you very quickly come to realise it’s the very opposite of fighting that’s the problem and start running after Yoongi, shouting in a futile attempt to discourage the two.  

You hadn’t even realised Remi was in heat, for Christ’s sake!  No wonder she was so keen on saying hello to Holly, today of all days!  

As luck would have it, Yoongi reaches them two just in time to intervene.  His owner’s arm-waving and shouting startles Holly so much that he dismounts without Yoongi even having to touch him, and whilst their owners are left out of breath and harrowed to the core, the two dogs go on about their business like nothing’s happened at all.  

“I’m sorry,” you gush, hands shaking you’re so flustered, “I didn’t realise she was in season.”  

There you go apologising again… 

You quickly go about putting Remi back on the lead as Yoongi does the same, and she’s all innocent eyes as she gazes up at you wondering what all the fuss is about.  

“It should be ok, I think.”  With Holly firmly back in hand, Yoongi takes a moment to straighten out his beanie that’d come all askew.  “They didn’t… uh…” 

“Yeah, no, I know what you mean,” you interject rather than have him saying it out loud.  They didn’t get stuck together is what he was probably trying to say, and really you’d rather not have a conversation about knotting right now.  You’ve had more than enough embarrassment for one day, thank you very much.  

“I think I should get this one home before we have any more near-accidents,” Yoongi muses, frowning as he looks down at Holly who’s still clearly expressing an interest, nose twitching in Remi’s direction.  

“Sure,” you agree, “And maybe we should hold off on the joint walks for a week or so?” You hate to suggest it because you know Remi’s going to be absolutely miserable without them, and you’re sure Yoongi would keep a close eye on them from now on, but it’s just not worth the risk.  “Just until her heat is over, anyway.”  

“Yeah, probably best.”  You expect that to be it, then, but much to your surprise Yoongi suddenly breaches the gap between you and bends in front of Remi, scratching her under the chin just as you know she likes.  “See you soon girl, ok?” he promises, and you swear you feel your knees weaken slightly at the way he says it in that low, dulcet tone of his.  And if they didn’t then, then they most definitely do when he looks up at you and smiles, the sunlight catching his eyes.  

“Yeah, see you later.” Starstruck, you answer somewhat robotically as he stands back to normal height with that same small smile still playing on his lips.  

“Later,” he says, making himself scarce before anything else has a chance to go wrong.  

You take a moment just to close your eyes; to collect yourself and calm your heart.  Remi's innocent little face is awaiting you once they open again, gazing up at you as though butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, and you can't help but soften as you bend down and run your fingers through her fur, sighing. 

"I know he's cute, Rem," you say, and part of you wonders whether it's Holly or Yoongi that you're talking about; Remi or yourself that you're talking to. "But you can't just go giving up the goods like that!"  She ever so sweetly licks your fingers - as if in penance - and you can’t help but wonder to yourself whether either of you is even really listening.  

At least she has the excuse of not being able to understand a word; you’re not sure what excuse your subconscious has for the numerous dreams it inflicts on you in the nights that follow.  Dreams of dark eyes, deep voices and long, wandering fingers that seem to linger on your skin even into wakefulness.  It doesn’t seem fair that whilst your sightings of the ‘real life’ Yoongi remain as sporadic and elusive as ever, you’re being haunted by his ever-so-alluring dream counterpart.  

It’s a stupid crush, really.  You know it is.  Your attraction to him is based on little more than his looks and the few short (and embarrassing) interactions you’ve had with the guy, and no-one is worth the realisation that you’re starting to resent your dog for all the time she gets to spend prancing around the park with him that you don’t. That's a new low, even for you.  

You’re just going to have to get over it, and as a couple of weeks go by with no further interaction between the two of you aside from the odd little post-it note left on your kitchen countertop once Remi's daily walks recommence, it gets a little easier to distract yourself from dwelling on the butterflies your next-door neighbour had been making you feel.  

Besides, if Yoongi was interested in pursuing something more than being your acquaintance surely he would’ve done it by now?  There’s no need for you to go messing up an arrangement that’s already working so well by getting feelings involved, especially if they’re not mutual.  Remi would kill you.  Or worse, Yoongi might start to think of charging you for his services rather than walking her out of the goodness of his heart.  Your new job may be going well, but that’s still not an option you’re in the position to afford.  

You feel as though you should do something for him, though.  You get the feeling Yoongi probably isn’t the type to appreciate a thank you card, and you’re not a good enough baker to go whipping up a batch of cookies or something else of the like.  Maybe you could splash out on a new piece of recording equipment the next time you get paid?  Hmm, but then that would require actually asking him what he wants, and no doubt it’ll be pricey if he’s using professional kit… Maybe you should just- 

“Oh, no, no, Remi, not there!  No!”  Panicked, you quickly pick Remi up off the sofa and rush her into the kitchen.  She continues retching even whilst in your arms and doesn’t stop until she’s finally thrown up this morning’s breakfast all over your laminate floor, uncaring of your whines of protest or the wrinkling of your nose.  

“See this is why-”  You groan with effort as you have to pick her up and move her out of the way to keep her from licking it all back up again.  You swear to god she’s getting heavier.  “-This is why you shouldn’t wolf everything down so fast!”  

Not that she’s ever had any issues with eating so quickly in the past.  Remi’s always gobbled down her food but it’s only the last day or two that she’s started bringing it back up again, and maybe it’d worry you if she seemed unwell in any other way, but she’s acting perfectly fine.  A little needier, perhaps, but you figure that’s just down to her missing her new playmate; she certainly isn’t shy about whining and pining after him whenever she can hear Holly next door.  

You’d even knocked on Yoongi’s door to check with him whether he thought Remi had seemed out of sorts at all, but he’d said he hadn’t noticed anything obvious either.  She’s not eating anything that she shouldn’t be and you haven’t changed her brand of food.  Sure, she might be eating a little bit extra of it lately but it can’t just be that, surely?  

Every sane person knows you shouldn’t google symptoms, but after you’ve cleaned up Remi’s mess and settled back down on the sofa, that's exactly what you find yourself doing.  With her curled up at your side, you scare yourself to death reading through all the horrible things that may or may not be the cause.  Parasites, liver failure, gastrointestinal blockages - none of them quite make sense because she’s perfectly fine - but as you continue to scroll there one possible explanation that catches your eye. 

Pregnancy.  

And suddenly it all clicks into place; Remi’s increased appetite, her cuddliness, the vomiting.  She’s pregnant!  

You twist in your seat, staring down at her peacefully sleeping form with wide eyes and a furiously beating heart, unable to comprehend that this might be true.  Your gaze strays to her stomach as though it might suddenly appear swollen now that the secret is out, but with all her long fur as covering she looks as normal as ever, leg twitching as she dreams.   

How can she be pregnant?!  You warned her about this - about giving away the goods too fast - and now look what’s happened!   Holly didn’t… they didn’t even…!  

Remi lets out a yelp of surprise as you suddenly scoop her up off the sofa and rush to your front door, in such a hurry that you don’t even bother to shut it after you as you storm down the hall.  Calling Yoongi’s name, you bang your clenched fist against his door with little care for how hysterical you might sound.  

Hell, you are hysterical!   What the bloody hell are you supposed to do with a litter of puppies?!  Your apartment is barely big enough for you and Remi, nevermind however many offspring she may be carrying!  

Yoongi’s bleary-eyed once he finally comes to the door, sleepiness adding to the bewilderment with which he squints at the sight of you red-faced and near hyperventilating.  It’s shameful that even as worked up as you are that your gaze still strays, unable to resist the lure of checking Yoongi out in his baggy tee and basketball shorts.  How is it that even his knobbly knees are so cute?!  

“Hey,” he greets, trying and failing to stifle a yawn that gives you an ever so lovely view of his tonsils.  He must’ve been up late working, and for just a moment you almost feel guilty for waking him up until Holly suddenly comes running to the front door as well.  Catching sight of Remi in your arms, he immediately starts to jump up your legs to try and reach her despite the death glare he’s greeted with. “What’s up?”  

“She’s pregnant,” you blurt out, thrusting Remi forward before placing her down on the floor so she and Holly can greet one another.  You can’t see the harm, after all.  It’s not as if he can go knocking her up again .   Yoongi’s brow furrows, head tilting as he sluggishly blinks, struggling to process this new information.  

“Sorry?”  

“Remi, she’s pregnant,” you state again, folding your arms across your chest as the words suddenly sink in and Yoongi's gaze plummets to the dogs at his feet.  “Holly knocked her up.”  For a moment, Yoongi says nothing.  All he does is stand there, rubbing the back of his neck as Remi affectionately nips and nuzzles at Holly, tugging on his ears.  

Finally, he looks up, eyebrows furrowed even deeper now.  

“How do you know it was Holly?”  Is he serious ?!  “I mean, you never know.  When they’re in heat they-” 

“Are you calling my dog a slut?!” you shriek, stepping forward so both Yoongi and the dogs are forced to move to accommodate your wrath.  He flinches, stepping back as the dogs scamper off somewhere further into the apartment.  “You were there!  We both saw them-”  Your arms flap as you search for the word, so outraged your face feels as though it’s on fire from all the red-hot blood rushing through your veins.  “- Canoodling !”  

If Yoongi weren’t so cute, you swear to god you’d kick him in the shins for the way the corners of his lips twitch at your choice of words.  

“Ok, alright,” he relents, cleverly deducing that trying to reason with you right now would be a fool’s game.  He glances over at the dogs, now cuddled up together in one of his armchairs.  “Just… how about we hold off on the meltdown until after we’re sure?”  Your eyes narrow despite knowing he’s right, unwilling to admit that just yet.  

There’s always the possibility you could be wrong.  The website you were looking at had so many different potential causes for her symptoms that it wouldn’t be impossible for it to be something else.  It might even turn out to be nothing at all.  

“I guess,” you admit after a moment has passed, unfolding your arms and letting them fall to your sides as you will your shoulders to relax.  

“The vet can do a scan, right?” Yoongi suggests, “Then we can figure out what to do if…” He glances at them again, drawing your eyes their way.  You have to admit they do make a very sweet looking couple, all curled up together like that.  “... if she is.”  

You bite your lip at the thought of the potential cost - you’ve got no idea how much it might cost or even when the right time to book it would be.  As if reading your mind, Yoongi speaks up again, rubbing at his neck once again. 

“I don’t mind splitting the cost if you want,” he offers, though he sounds a little awkward.  “You’re probably right about it being Holly…”  ‘Probably’ is a bit of an understatement, you think, but you’re not about to argue the semantics.  If you’re honest, you’re just feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of this; by the situation in itself and how level-headed and kind Yoongi has been to step up on Holly’s behalf so quickly.  

“They are a bit smitten with each other, aren’t they?” you smile, feeling a little calmer.  This could be a lot worse, you suppose.  The father could’ve just been some random dog in the park and you’d have been left facing this all alone.  

“Just a little,” he agrees, hands rested on his hips, and you swear the smile that blossoms on his face as he looks over at them is the sweetest one you’ve ever seen - your heart fluttering despite the promise you made yourself to get over this little crush.  

They’re not the only ones at risk of getting smitten, you think. 

“Anyway.”  You clear your throat in a futile attempt to get a hold of yourself. “Sorry for just barging round.  We’ll get going and let you get some more sleep.”  You call Remi’s name and she sleepily raises her head, refusing to move until you call her twice more, clapping your hands.  

“No worries. It’s about time I got up,” he says. “And what happened to us not saying sorry all the time, hm?”  Yoongi smiles crookedly, folding his arms, and god, it’s only the slightest bit of friendly teasing, so why is your heart racing so fast? 

“Whoops,” you giggle, acutely aware of the blush that’s warming your cheeks as you scoop Remi up in your arms. “I’ll try to do better.”  

“Then I'll expect your best,” Yoongi grins as he escorts you back to the door, and you swear to god you’re about to spontaneously combust any second.

“I’ll let you know about the scan, ok?”  He nods, returning your little wave as you say goodbye and then shutting the door before Holly has the chance to escape out into the hall after you.  You pause on the doorstep, willing your heart to calm down.  

“Oh you’re one to talk,” you hiss back at Remi when you notice her stare, wide-eyed and unblinking. The two of you wouldn’t be in this mess if she could’ve just kept it in her pants.  “You better hope I’m wrong about this, missus.”  

  You’re not, though.  The ultrasound scan that you attend the following week confirms your suspicions; Remi’s pregnant, about four weeks gone, and though the vet couldn’t be sure, she’d estimated her to be carrying at least three puppies.  She sends you away with her congratulations and an armful of literature - essentially the doggy equivalent of ‘what to expect when you’re expecting’ - and you spend the next hour after you leave the vets wandering the pet store aisles in some kind of daze, desperately trying to figure out which food you should buy.   

“Do you have any idea-” Yoongi looks surprised to see you when he opens the front door - Remi’s lead in one hand and a deluxe bag of dog food tucked under the other. “-How many different varieties of grain-free puppy food there are, Yoongi?”  He blinks, unsure, so you answer for him.  “Twelve.”  You can feel the bag starting to slip but you’re lacking the motivation to stop it, too overwhelmed from the morning you’ve had to want to fight anymore.  “Twelve. And not one single store assistant could tell me what the hell difference there is between any of them.”  The bag finally falls but luckily Yoongi’s right there to catch it, a furrow of concern creasing his brow.  “And it’s not even for the puppies.”  

“You… look like you could use a coffee,” Yoongi observes, stepping back from his doorway as he holds the bag against his chest.  

“Yes, thank you,” you sigh, stepping inside and bending down to let Remi off her lead as Yoongi puts the bag down by the front door and closes it.  

“So she’s definitely pregnant, then?” he asks as he reaches down to fuss Remi when she over bounds his way, tail wagging.  Holly follows quickly after but it’s not Yoongi he’s interested in - he’s too busy sniffing and licking at the bag of food.  

“Yep.  Triplets, apparently.  Or more, if we’re really lucky.”  Yoongi chuckles softly at the sarcasm in your tone, a faint smile on his face as he rounds the kitchen island and pulls out a stool on which you promptly sit, resting your elbows on the counter.

You hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate the decor the last time you got a glimpse inside Yoongi’s apartment, but now that you’ve got a minute you can’t help but notice how nicely put together the place is.  Yes, there’s some dirty dishware in the kitchen sink, and yes, his apartment is pretty much the same as yours in layout - just the other way around - but the warm, earthy tones of the place make it feel… cosier somehow.  More homely than the stark white walls and metallic countertops your ex-boyfriend had insisted you install back at your place.  

The smell of freshly brewed coffee grabs your attention, and you watch quietly as he pours you each a cup from a fancy looking cafetiere.  He’s surprisingly delicate in the way he moves - his long fingers deft and precise.  

“Milk?  Sugar?”  

“Yes.  And two please,” you mumble, still wallowing in your perceived misfortune.  At least you’ve got a nice view; Yoongi’s looking especially cute today in ripped jeans and a sweater that looks far too large, sleeves dangling as he reaches into the fridge.  

He takes his coffee with just the slightest touch of milk.  No sugar.  

“It’s not the end of the world,” he says eventually, breaking what would have been silence if it weren’t for the sounds of Remi and Holly play-fighting in the living room.  You swallow the sip of coffee you’d just taken - infinitely more flavorful than the cheap instant stuff you use at home. 

“I know,” you relent with a sigh.  You just hate feeling so out of your depth!  Usually, you research to death any kind of life choice you’re about to make - weighing out the pros and cons, thinking of any possible eventuality and most likely talking yourself out of it in the meantime - but you know nothing about dog breeding or raising puppies.  You’d never forgive yourself if you inadvertently did something wrong and Remi ended up getting sick or one of the puppies got hurt or- 

“My brother’s dog had puppies a couple years back, I can give him a call,” Yoongi says, as calm and level-headed as ever, “We go halves on everything and then split the profits afterwards.”  

“You think we should sell them?”  

“Well I hadn’t really planned on getting another dog anytime soon.”  His lips curve into a smile against the edge of his cup and you can’t help but smile in return, sighing again.  

“You think people will want them?” you ask after taking another sip and Yoongi puts down his cup to reach into his pocket, pulling out his phone.  

“I did a little research,” he says, rounding the counter to come and stand next to you, thumb tapping away at the screen.   Standing this close you’re able to smell his cologne; a soft yet masculine scent.  Does he realise how close he is, you wonder?  Or rather, does he have any idea how he’s got every single one of your nerve endings on high alert?    “Look,” he instructs, turning his phone your way to show you a picture of one of the most adorable little dogs you've ever seen.  It's got Remi's pointed little nose and brilliant white fur, but being half poodle that fur is slightly curly rather than straight, and unlike Remi's pointed ears, this dog's are long and floppy just like Holly's.

In short, it's frickin adorable.  

"Oh my god!" you squeal before you can help yourself, stealing the phone from Yoongi's grasp to get an even closer look. You keep scrolling through Google images and you swear each puppy is even cuter than the last, knees bouncing under the counter as your thumb relentlessly swipes.  

You totally miss the fondness with which Yoongi observes your excitement.  He's usually rather possessive over his tech, but you're just so enthusiastic he can't bring himself to cut your 'ooh-ing' and 'aww-ing' short - especially given how miserable you looked when you first arrived.  "They're so adorable, oh my gosh."

"I don't think we'll have any trouble finding buyers if they come out looking like that," he says, slipping his phone back into his pocket once you coyly handed it back, careful to avoid the brushing of your fingers. 

"No, you're probably right." If anything, you'll probably have trouble giving them up yourself!  Yoongi returns safely to the other side of the counter, smiling softly as he picks up his cup in both hands and takes another sip.  

"We'll figure it out," he assures you, and somehow, despite all your anxieties and doubts, there's something about Yoongi's voice that makes you put all your faith in him.  

Mind now at rest, the two of you chat whilst you finish your coffees, not just about the dogs but other things as well; his impressive home entertainment system, your plans for Christmas and various theories about the strange Mr Jung who lives alone on the floor below and yet can be heard shouting all hours of the day.  

It feels so easy to talk to him.  Familiar, almost.  Like you and Yoongi knew each other in a past life and have somehow found one another again.  

Or maybe you're just a hopeless romantic who's reading way too much into things but hey, you're not hurting anyone.  Just yourself, maybe, and you can live with that.  

"Thanks for the coffee," you smile as the conversation reaches a natural lull.  You're reluctant to leave but you'd rather not risk overstaying your welcome and turn what has been a lovely interaction sour.  

"Any time," Yoongi smiles in return.  This time you don't manage to avoid the brushing of your fingers as you hand your coffee cup back, and as your fingertips touch you end up pressing your thighs together under the counter from the thrill that runs through you.  Thank god he doesn't see it, lest Yoongi realises just how sexually deprived you've been since you and your ex broke up.  

Better leave now whilst you still have some semblance of self-control left. 

"Ok Rem, time to head on home," you call, slipping off the stool.  You pause, expecting to hear the jingling of the bell on her collar as she trots her way over to you, but nothing comes. "Remi?" You make your way into the living room only to find her curled up with Holly in that same spot on the sofa as last time, and if she heard you then she's certainly not acting as though she did.�� "Rem, c'mon, gotta go."  Lazily, they lift their heads in perfect unison and yet Remi remains unmoving, yawning and stretching as Holly rolls onto his back.  

Glancing behind you, you ensure Yoongi is well out of earshot before squatting down so that you and Remi are eye to eye.  

"Look, I don't want to go either, but we don't want to overstay our welcome now, do we?" you whisper quietly, giving her fair warning before you slip your hands under her fuzzy little body and lift her from the seat. 

"Don't be sad." You almost jump out of your skin when you suddenly hear Yoongi right behind you, very nearly dropping Remi in your haste to turn around.  Apparently, Yoongi isn't a great believer in personal space (or else is oblivious to it) because he's close enough that he doesn't have to move an inch in order to reach out and stroke her fur, smiling. "We'll see each other soon," he reassures, looking up at you before adding, "Won't we?" 

"Yeah, definitely," you confirm, nodding like an idiot, and as though she understands Remi gives a little low rumble of contentment as she leans her head back against your chest, exposing her chin for scratches that Yoongi can't resist supplying.  

"I'll come fetch her for her walk tomorrow as normal." Yoongi pauses as he withdraws his affection, scratching behind his ear and keeping his eyes on Remi as he asks, "You are working tomorrow, aren't you?" 

Instantly, your cheeks flush with heat as you realise his intention for asking. "Y-yeah." God forbid he almost walk in on you semi-nude all over again… "Thanks." 

"No problem," he smiles, meeting your gaze.  You shyly return his smile, unable to think of anything more to say as he sees you to the door except to wish him goodbye, blushing once more when he quietly utters it back along with your name. 

It should be criminal for someone so good looking to have a voice so sexy.  How's a girl supposed to stand a chance?  Even when you're no longer in his presence, you can't stop thinking about him; his calm demeanour, his subtle smiles, the warmth he exudes around both Remi and Holly.  If he were just attractive that would be one thing, but now you're getting to know him more, little by little… boy, you're in trouble. 

And Remi doesn't seem to be faring much better, either.  Every small noise from next door that could possibly be her four-legged love has her pacing and whining, so eager to go to see him that every time you come home you have to be careful she doesn't dart out into the hallway between your legs and go scratching at Yoongi's door.  

Apparently, Remi's not concerned with the notion of looking desperate, which is why one evening when you come home and you're met with nothing more than silence and an empty apartment, you're more than just a little worried.  

Has she climbed her way out onto the balcony?  Shimmied across the window ledges mission impossible style in a desperate attempt to reach Holly next door?  

Unlikely, but you follow your gut instinct anyway and head over to Yoongi's as calmly as you can.  You take a deep, steadying breath as you knock on his door, trying to keep the rising sense of panic at bay.  You've already had a not so great day at work - too many customers with not enough manners.  The last thing you need now is a missing dog to add to the list.  

"Have you seen Remi?" you blurt out as soon as the door starts to open, frowning from the headache throbbing at the back of your skull.  "I just got home and she's not there and-" 

Yoongi's mouth opens but he has the chance to speak, the sound of Remi's bell does all the talking for him, jingling loudly as she comes running towards the door.  

"Hey you!" Your knees click as you bend down to fuss her, one hand on the hem of your skirt to make sure it doesn't ride up too far. "You scared me!"  Remorseless, Remi flops onto her side and cocks her leg up in invitation for you to stroke her stomach.  It's slowly starting to expand underneath all the fuzz, and despite your recent panic you still can't help but smile to feel it.  

"Sorry, should've left a note." Behind you, you hear the front door click shut.  Remi quickly has her fill of tummy rubs, and as she runs away back to Holly, you stand up straight and turn to Yoongi, endeared by the uneasy expression on his face and the awkwardness with which he shoves his hands into his pockets. "I keep hearing her whining after I've dropped her off, so I figured it wouldn't hurt for her to just stay a while longer 'till you get home." 

God, there he goes again being an absolute sweetheart. 

"Shouldn't have just assumed," he apologises but you're quick to wave it off, smiling.  

"Not at all.  Just glad she's safe." Yoongi smiles, hands coming out of his pockets, and as he walks on past you into the kitchen you're suddenly hit with the smell of cooking; onions and garlic and a sweet-smelling sauce.  

"You hungry?" he asks as he approaches the stove.  

You can't resist the opportunity to take a really good look at him whilst his back is turned; the epitome of effortless style in his open plaid shirt and skinny jeans.  He's barefoot, you realise, and you're not sure why you find that so attractive but you're not about to go analysing it now. Not when he's turned to look at you so expectantly - almost like you've completely missed something he's just said in favour of ogling how nicely the pockets of his jeans frame each of his perfect little butt cheeks.  

"Sorry?" you ask stupidly.  

"I always make too much," he says, mercifully turning back to his frying pan quick enough that he might have missed the blush on your cheeks. "Plenty to go around.  If you want." 

Wait.  Is Yoongi… Asking you to stay for dinner?  And do your eyes deceive you, or is the back of his neck turning a delightful shade of pink as he waits for you to answer?  

No.  No, that'd just be ridiculous.  You're just leaping to conclusions - presumptuous and delusional - but then… why are there already two place settings laid out on his small dining table?  Why is there an extra wine glass standing empty on the counter next to the one that's only half full?  

Did he… plan this out?  Hell, if he did, you're not about to go looking a gift horse in the mouth.  Fighting back a nervous smile, you remove your cardigan and hang it over the back of one of his bar stools as casually as you can. 

"Sure," you agree, untucking your blouse from your skirt before sliding onto the same stool to watch Yoongi plate up. "Smells a lot better than anything I could cook up." Would it be too much to go unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your blouse too?  Show a little skin?  

You're reaching to do just that when suddenly Yoongi turns around with his frying pan in hand and you promptly chicken out, clearing your throat.  From behind you, Holly and Remi come running into the room, and Yoongi gets distracted when your little lady starts pawing at his leg, vying for attention.  

"You want another treat, huh?" With his free hand, he plucks a little brown ball off of a baking tray by the sink and promptly throws it up in the air for Remi to catch, and as soon as it's within her jaws she lies down and merrily begins to chomp, crunching and munching away.  

"What's that?" you enquire as Yoongi recommences dishing up, spooning a chicken and vegetable something or other onto a bed of rice.  It's a good job you're not a fussy eater or else you might be slightly alarmed that he hasn't even told you what you're having…"The treat, I mean."  He looks up from sliding his frying pan into soapy water already waiting in the sink, glancing down at Remi.  

"Just some recipe I found online," he explains, casual as ever.  He brings over the wine glass you'd noticed earlier and offers to fill it with a tilt of the bottle, doing so when you nod.  "She needs the extra calories."

"You made them yourself?" you ask, incredulous that Yoongi would go so far and be so considerate as to go searching for homemade doggie treats.  He nods somewhat bashfully, avoiding your gaze as he carries both your plates over to the table and takes a seat. "You're unbelievable," you laugh before you can help yourself, wine glass cradled in both hands as you join him at the table.  

Perhaps it might be best not to drink too much of said wine.  Seems your tongue is loose enough already without adding extra lubrication.  

“I just mean-” You hasten to explain your brazen compliment, not missing the way Yoongi’s eyebrows lift in surprise when you reach for chopsticks rather than the knife and fork he’d placed beside your plate. “- My ex couldn’t even be bothered to learn how to use the washing machine, nevermind bake little organic dog treats in his spare time.”

Glancing over at Remi, you see her standing on her hind legs against the kitchen cupboards in desperate hope for more, and damn, now you’ve gotten a taste of Yoongi’s cooking you can totally understand why! 

“Oh my god ,” you groan around your mouthful, chopsticks clicking frantically as you gather up the next, completely distracted from whatever the hell it was you were just saying.  

“It wasn’t all organic,” you hear Yoongi mumble, cheeks pink as he takes a sip of his wine.  Is that just a little alcohol-induced flush you spy?  Or is he secretly flattered?  “Just the peanut butter.”  You smile, chewing ceaselessly as Yoongi deposits one very large mouthful into his not-nearly-so-small-as-it-looks mouth.  He fills his cheeks so full that for a few glorious seconds he resembles some kind of adorable human/hamster hybrid; so cute you just want to reach out and- 

"Always had your ex pegged as kind of an asshole, to be honest," Yoongi admits, eyes focused on his plate, and it's not so much the talking with his mouth full that has you nearly choking on your food - it's the bluntness with which he does it.  He looks up as you splutter, reaching for your wine. "No offence." He looks mildly alarmed as you cough once more. "It's just I used to hear him all the time through the walls, shouting his mouth off." 

"None taken," you wheeze, taking a sip of wine to clear the tickle that's left in your throat.  Your eyes are watering and no doubt your face is red, but that's the least of your worries right now, mortified to imagine just how many arguments Yoongi must've overheard during all the time that douchebag was part of your life.  

"Sorry if I'm overstepping the mark…" You shake your head quickly, waving off his concerns as Remi and Holly come trotting over as though to check on you.  Not that you're so naive as to really believe that - no doubt they're here to scavenge scraps off of the table rather than to ensure your wellbeing.  

"Not at all," you chuckle, "Asshole is probably putting it lightly.  Never really have had the best taste in men." Yoongi exhales a breathy laugh, smiling wryly.  

"Gotta kiss a few frogs to find the Prince, right?" You end up smiling even harder at that, snorting into your wine.   A few is probably an understatement, but that's not information Yoongi needs to know.  

"Sure he'll turn up one day," you muse, sounding ever so slightly wistful.  Your eyes meet Yoongi's from across the table and a beat passes, no words said as the two of you look at one another.  You don't dare move - even breathe - lest you risk breaking… whatever this moment between you may be. 

Unexpectedly, you feel soft fur against the bare skin of your leg and it startles you despite knowing full well what it is.  When you look down, you see Remi staring at you meaningfully, her eyes locked with yours even as she trots her way to the other end of the table to paw at Yoongi's leg, asking for a fuss.  

'I like this one, ' her eyes seem to say as Yoongi reaches down to pet her, smiling fondly, 'You should give this one a try.'

Oh, if only. 

“We can do this more often if you want,” Yoongi offers as his attention returns to his food.  “I don’t mind watching her ‘till you get back from work.”   

“Are you sure?” Once again you’re floored by Yoongi’s casual generosity.  He doesn’t even look up as he bobs his head in confirmation, his mouth too full to respond. 

“She’s no trouble,” he tells you once he’s eventually swallowed, “And Holly likes having her around.”  

“That’d be amazing,” you smile, “Thank you.”  He returns your smile - small, short and sweet - and you swear each and every time he flashes you a grin you end up falling just that little bit more.  

"Does that mean I have even more delicious dinners to look forward to?" you ask, surprising yourself with how flirty you sound.  How brave.  

Yoongi laughs at your forwardness, sputtering into his wine.  You don't really expect him to answer - assume he'll just laugh it off and not say anything at all - but Yoongi looks rather serious as he puts down his glass; his gaze so intense that for a second you actually forget how to chew.  

"If you're lucky," he promises, and oh boy, you hope you will be. "But next time, you bring the wine." 

  And so, you do.  

Every night throughout the week that follows, you pay a visit to the corner store on your way home to pick up a bottle of white, or rose, or red.  You're fairly certain the cashier might suspect you of having some sort of drinking problem, actually, but Yoongi's been so grateful that you can't stand the thought of turning up empty-handed.  And It’s not even as though you always drink the whole bottle, anyway.  It’s just a glass with dinner on Wednesday and Thursday, and then one extra on Friday and Saturday when Yoongi invites you to stay a little longer.  

And ok, so maybe he doesn’t actually ask you to stay, but when a guy starts asking whether you’ve seen this new show he really likes and turns on Netflix, what are you supposed to think?  

You end up thoroughly enjoying the hours you waste away sitting at the opposite end of his sofa with Remi in your lap, even the lazy Sunday evening that Yoongi spends watching some god-awful competitive fishing show that you pretend to like just because it makes him smile.  

It’s funny how simple a creature Yoongi turns out to be, considering how mysterious he’d first seemed.  He’s a man of few words but what he does say is always interesting, and you’d like to think you’ve gotten to know him pretty well as the week’s gone by.  He’s considerate and hard-working, introverted and yet speaks so fondly of the few friends he professes to have.  He loves music and fishing, cooking and expensive wine, and when he’s tipsy his voice gets even slower and deeper - his tone so dulcet that you could happily listen to him talk all night. 

By the end of the week you’ve spent more time in Yoongi’s apartment than you have your own, and you won’t pretend for even a second that you’ve thought that it’s a bad thing.  You’re well and truly smitten; the favourite part of your day now the moment you come home and have both Yoongi and the dogs there to greet you, even though that home is not your own.  

Picturing that - thinking of him - is the only thing that’s gotten you through the shittiness of your last few hours at work.  You really do enjoy your job, for the most part, but some days are inevitably better than others and today… today was a bad, bad, bad day.  The kind of bad day that has you searching the liquor aisle for the whisky with the highest volume of alcohol you can possibly find - the same bottle that you later slam down on Yoongi’s kitchen counter having already let yourself into his apartment, sighing every step of the way.  

“Bad day?” he asks, not yet having turned around to see the miserable look on your face.  You can’t bring yourself to say anything, too focused on trying to hold yourself together after having struggled to do so all afternoon, so you stay quiet as you give Remi the fussing she’s after.  Her tail is wagging with a glee you’re envious of, her fuzzy tummy growing more and more round by the day.  

“I can make this Irish if you want.”  You look up to see Yoongi standing beside you with a mug of coffee held in both hands and a soft smile on his face, and suddenly it’s just all too much.  The dam inside you that’d slowly begin to crack throughout the day finally bursts at the sight of him - overcome with emotion at having him treat you so kindly after having faced such rudeness and meanness for hours on end.  

“I’m sorry!” you squeak out as you burst into tears, your elbows meeting the counter as your face falls into your hands, not wanting to have Yoongi see you cry.  You can’t see anything with your eyes so tightly screwed shut, but if you could you’d witness the look of shock appear on Yoongi’s face - see his eyes widen and his lips slightly part as the rest of him freezes, unsure of what to do.  

You really try your best to stem your tears, but you’re so embarrassed to have him see you like this that it only makes you cry harder, shoulders trembling as you curl in on yourself in an attempt to hide.  

“I just h-had such a h-h-horrible day,” you sob, “This one w-woman - this bitch - she was s-so m-mean and she wouldn’t just-”  You abruptly stop speaking as an arm is suddenly laid across your shoulders, and before you realise what’s happening you’re being pulled into an embrace; your face nestled into a soft sweater.  

“Hey, hey,” you're gently shushed, and it’s not so much that Yoongi's comforting you that helps to calm you down, nor the feel of one of his large hands rubbing up and down the length of your back.  It’s more the shock of having Yoongi actually touch you that allows you to finally start catching your breath, your hands unknowingly reaching out to hold onto him.  “Whatever happened, it’s over now, right?  It’ll be ok,” he soothes.  

“Uh-huh,” you whisper into fabric, silently praying that your nose hasn’t run all over it, and although you’re no longer crying you allow yourself a moment more to enjoy the feel of his arms around you.  He smells wonderful - his slight body warm and firm pressed against you - and all you want to do is tighten your grip on his sweater and pull him even closer; tilt your head to skim your lips against his throat.  

“You ok?” Yoongi asks, and as you finally lift your head and dab away the moisture from under your eyes the last thing you expect is to feel his fingers fleetingly touch your hair.  You meet his gaze and the concern you see there is almost enough to make you start crying all over again - but then you watch as his pupils dart back and forth, up and down as he scans your face - and suddenly… suddenly you're kissing him. 

Or is it him who's kissing you? 

You're not sure who it is that makes the first move, but regardless of whoever the instigator may be, your mouths still meet in the middle.  Yoongi's lips are soft but his kiss is firm - purposeful - and utterly takes your breath away.  You make a grab for him again, clutching at the fabric at his hip to keep him close as you sweep your tongue across the seam of his lips, Yoongi's hands coming to rest upon your face.  They're so warm, so gentle as he traces your cheekbones with his thumbs, and-

All too soon he's pulling away, brought to his senses the moment he feels the moisture that lingers on your cheeks, and the quiet whine of protest that you're unable to hold back has your face burning with shame.  

"S-sorry," he rapidly stammers out as he stumbles back out of reach, retreating to the other side of the counter; a barrier between you.  His cheeks are flushed with the same heat as yours, unable to meet your eyes as he wipes at the corner of his mouth with his thumb and then rubs the side of his neck. "I didn't mean… I mean… you…" 

Oh lord, this is awkward.  So, so awkward!  What the hell did you have to go and kiss him for?!  He looks so painfully uncomfortable right now that you're sure he'd rather melt into the floor than look at you, and oh my god you're such an idiot!  What kind of moron goes snogging someone's face off at the slightest bit of physical contact?  Are you really that touch deprived?! 

"Sorry," he repeats, "You're upset-" You're already up and out of your stool before Yoongi even has the chance to finish his sentence.  

"I should just go," you blurt out as you pick Remi up off the floor and into your arms despite her huffed exhale of protest.  You're being a coward, you know that, but you're too fragile right now to go through the whole 'let you down gently' routine without sobbing all over again - especially if it's coming from someone you're so crazy about.  

No, you'd rather just see yourself out now and save him the bother.  Best for everyone if you just pretend this never happened… 

"Thanks for watching her."  You're moving too quickly for him to protest - to do anything but stand with his mouth agape as you race for the front door like the very flames of hell are licking at your heels.  

"Don't forget your-!" you hear Yoongi call, pulling the front door shut behind you too fast to make out the end of his sentence.  You scurry down the hall back to your own apartment, and it’s only as you’re struggling to get inside with Remi still balanced on your hip that you realise your hands are lightly shaking.  

“Never happened,” you mumble to yourself once you finally get the blasted thing open, relinquishing Remi from where she’d begun to wriggle and squirm in your grasp.  “Never happened.  It was just one stupid, silly kiss.”  You lean back against your front door, exhaling a sigh.  “Just… forget about it.”  

And oh, you really try.  You try everything and anything you can think of to get Yoongi off of your mind, but nothing works; not mindless trash TV, not blasting your favourite tunes while you’re in the shower - not finishing off the bottle of wine leftover from the night before last.  If anything, alcohol just makes things ten times worse.  As you lie on your bed amidst a tipsy haze, all you can think about is the way his lips felt pressed to yours and of how he tasted like the coffee you hadn’t had the chance to drink.  The low noise he’d made in the back of his throat when you’d grabbed at his clothes.  It was so hot… he’s so hot, and more than anything you just want to go back there right now and- 

You groan aloud in frustration, raking your fingers through your hair to keep them from finding their way into your pants.  God, you’re so royally fucked - and not in the way you’re wishing you were - but you’re too far tired and conflicted and just… sad to want to masturbate, no matter how fiercely Yoongi’s kiss may have made you ache.   So you ignore it, cocoon yourself in your duvet whilst Remi snores at your feet, and will yourself to fall asleep whilst silently reassuring yourself that tomorrow is another day.  

Come the next morning (which is mercifully hangover free), you ready yourself for work repeating just that.  Today has to be better - or at least it can't get much worse - and what happened with Yoongi was just… a blip.  Carelessness on your part.  And knowing Yoongi as you now do, you’re sure he’ll be far too much of a gentleman to mention it anyway.  

That’s if he doesn’t ghost you entirely, of course, which is a legitimate possibility.  

Luckily, your day does turn out a whole lot better than the one that came before; a small mercy, given how worked up you've been worrying about where to expect to find Remi once you get home.  Whether it be in your apartment or Yoongi's, you're unsure which option would be preferable.   If she's waiting at Yoongi's you'll have no choice but to go over there and face the consequences of last night's actions - a thought you by no means relish - but if she's at yours… well, you suppose that might just be even worse.    

You’re not too proud to admit that Yoongi's help with Remi has been invaluable over the past weeks, and if you're being honest, his friendship has too.  You can't imagine going back to the way it was before: barely seeing one another, exchanging nothing but awkward smiles in the hallway.  If he were to walk out of your life now you would really, really miss him - to say the least.  And that's… kind of terrifying.  

At heart, though, you’re a positive person, and you want to believe that things will just carry on the way they have before.  And maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but your hope is what has you stopping by the same old corner store on the way home and picking up a bottle of wine from a brand you know Yoongi likes, just as you’ve done so many times before.  And maybe it might be considered hedging your bets, but after the grocery store you head across the street to one of the local takeout places, too.  You know Yoongi’s all about meat, meat and more meat when it comes to food, so it’s not hard for you to figure out what to order; lamb skewers, tempura shrimp, spicy pork belly.  Some of it you don’t even like yourself, so you hope to god Remi’s waiting at Yoongi’s and not at yours otherwise there’s a hell of a lot of food about to go to waste.

You order so much, in fact, that your arms are aching by the time you get home - though that does nothing to distract you from the way your heart starts to gallop when it comes time to put your keys in the lock and open up your front door.   You hold your breath as it swings open, eyes closing for a second as you pray not to hear the click-clack of Remi’s claws on the floor, and when nothing comes you sigh with relief, never so glad to be greeted by an empty home.  

“Thank the lord,” you murmur as you place everything down on the kitchen table, figuring you may as well use this chance to quickly get changed and freshen up before heading next door.  Normally you’d just go round in your work clothes, and truthfully there’s nothing actually wrong with what you’re already wearing, but you appreciate just a little bit of extra time to mentally prepare.

Not that it helps, of course.   Whether in a skirt or jeans, you’re crapping your pants just as much as you knock on his door but you plaster a smile on your face nonetheless, holding aloft your wine and takeout bags as the door starts to open.  

“Hi,” you beam as Yoongi appears, “I brought goodies!”  He looks mildly taken aback by the sight of you and how bubbly you sound - even more so when you stride forward to enter without him yet having said a word.  “You’re not cooking yet,” you observe as you enter the kitchen and hear the front door shut behind you, Yoongi’s soft footfalls across the floor following shortly after, “Good.”  

You turn on the spot, grinning inanely as you try not to make it too obvious that you’re checking him out.  Must he really look so effortlessly stylish all the time?   He even has that whole ‘just got out of bed’ ruffled hair thing going on, and god, you hate him for how badly it makes you want to run your fingers through it to see if it’s as soft as it looks.  

“Where’s Rem?” you ask before your thoughts run too far amok, tearing your eyes away from him in favour of peering over his shoulder towards the living room.  

“Think they’re in my room,” he explains, fingers fiddling with the arm of the glasses he’s wearing and then straying into his hair to scratch at his scalp.  He must’ve been in his studio prior to your arrival - it’s the only time you really ever see him wearing his glasses.  “She’s been acting kinda weird today.”  

Frowning, you follow after him as he leads you down the hallway towards his bedroom.  You try not to focus on the fact that this will have been the first time you’ve seen it, or mourn that now that you are it’s in less-than-sexy circumstances.  

“What do you mean ‘weird’?” 

“Just… restless, I guess.  She didn’t wanna walk but I had to stop her scratching up the carpet ‘cus she keeps wanting to dig.”  He pushes open the door and immediately you gasp, freezing in the doorway.  Yoongi sighs heavily, surveying the damage before him.  “And ruin my bedding, apparently.”  

To be fair, it's not really that bad - and you're not just saying that because Remi's your dog and you're a wee bit overprotective, either.  Yes, there's one pillow that's been pulled off the bed and had its stuffing ripped out, but aside from that all that's really moved is his sheets, and whilst they've been pulled into a heap the floor there doesn't appear to be any other damage or… bodily fluids amidst them.  

"Oh Rem, what've you been up to?" you coo, kneeling down beside the heap of blankets that the two dogs are curled up amongst.  Holly comes alive at the sound of your voice, instantly perking up, and within seconds he's on his feet and visiting you and Yoongi in turn for a scratch behind the ears.  Remi, however, is somewhat lazier in her response.  She lifts her head slowly, emitting a pathetic little sound as she gazes up at you, pointed ears pressed back against the top of her head.  

"What's wrong girl?" Concerned, you're cautious in the way you put your hands on her, but you're relieved to find she's just as eager to receive affection as ever.  It's only when you run your hand across her belly that she seems to object, her small body tensing.  

"She's been in here for a couple hours," Yoongi informs you as he comes to kneel beside you on the carpet. "I tried to feed her dinner but she wasn't interested - thought it might've been something to do with her throwing up earlier on." 

"You think we should call the vet?" Yoongi shakes his head as Holly comes to reclaim his spot next to his lady friend.  Snuggling in close, he gives her an affectionate lick.  

"I thought about it," he admits, giving Remi's head a gentle pat, "But I don't think she's sick.  I think she's in labour." 

"Really?" Now that you think about it, the time frame does seem about right.  You just hadn't expected it to happen so soon… 

"Called my brother and he seems to think so." Looking up from Remi your gaze meets Yoongi's, and you figure it must show on your face how overwhelmed you're feeling because the smile that he gives you is a kind one.  

"So, what do we do?" you ask, sinking back from your knees and onto your bottom instead, crossing your legs.  Yoongi copies you, and for a second your eyes dart to the expanse of skin that's revealed to you through the rip in his jeans, right across the thigh.  

"Not much, apparently.  Not unless something goes wrong and Remi needs a hand."  You feel anxiety twist your expression and Yoongi brow furrows in sympathy, his fingers drumming against his knees.  "We've just gotta sit and wait." You chuckle mirthlessly, rolling your eyes.  

"Never really been the patient type." Yoongi smiles, rising to his feet and placing his hand on your shoulder as he goes, giving it a squeeze that makes your stomach go topsy-turvy.  

"I guess I better go get us some supplies to keep us going then, huh?" 

"That'd be good," you smile, blushing as he squeezes it once more before finally letting go.  You turn back to Remi as he leaves the room, worrying your bottom lip until you unexpectedly hear him call your name.  He lingers in the doorway, one hand on the frame.  

"Everything's gonna be fine," he assures you. "Trust me." And somehow, without question, you do.  

  It's a little odd, really, how effortlessly things have gone back to normal considering what went on between you last night.  Perhaps it's the pressure of the unfamiliar situation you've been thrust into that's redirected your attention elsewhere and thereby alleviated the tension. Or maybe it was just never as big of a deal as you'd made it out to be in your head.  Either way, you're grateful.  

That's not to say there's no tension at all, mind, but rather than making things feel uncomfortable it's more like… like there's a charge between you.  A spark.  You can feel it all the while you're sat eating dinner together cross-legged on his bedroom floor, lips tingling from how spicy (albeit delicious) the food is.  Coy smiles and stolen glances are made amongst idle chit-chat, distracting you from the waves of worry that rise and then recede with each little sound that Remi makes which turn out to be nothing.  

You've no idea how long labour usually tends to last for dogs, but you can only hope that if or when you ever decide to have children, that you handle it just as quietly and calmly as Remi.  You hope whoever you’re with is attentive as Holly, too, and you know that’s an odd thing to think but you can’t help but admire the way he is with her; laying patiently just a few feet away, his attention unwavering.  

Technically you know it isn’t the norm for the ‘daddy dog’ to be around while his bitch is giving birth (or at least so Yoongi had said), just in case his presence made Remi nervous or agitated, but these pair seem to be a bit an anomaly in that respect.  When Yoongi had tried to extract Holly from the room prior to eating dinner, Remi had gotten more restless than ever and so you’d been forced to let him back in despite all the guidance advising the contrary.  You’ll just have to keep an extra close eye on him when the puppies actually arrive, you suppose, though you know you can rely on Yoongi to keep him in line.  

And to be fair, it seems as though you’re able to rely on Yoongi an awful lot in general these days.  Having been so preoccupied with your new job you’ve done shamefully little research as to what to expect and how to prepare for Remi to give birth, naively believing that you still had plenty of time to spare. 

Lucky for you, Yoongi seems to have everything handled; the ‘supplies’ he’d previously mentioned turning out to be a heap of freshly washed towels, shiny surgical scissors and some sort of sucker device - the likes you imagine to be used for clearing snotty babies noses.  You eye it nervously as you finish your last mouthful of shrimp, silently hoping you won’t need anything other than the towels and a little bit of luck.  

“Thanks for dinner.”  You drag your eyes away from the scissors, Yoongi’s voice having interrupted your thoughts.  

“No worries,” you reply, smiling gratefully as Yoongi takes your empty plate from your hands to stack it on top of his own.  He puts them aside for a moment as he dutifully tidies everything away, putting the empty food cartons back into the plastic bag from whence they came.  “About time I returned the favour.”  Yoongi smiles wryly, no doubt too polite to point out that buying takeout and preparing a home-cooked meal isn’t quite the same thing.  

“To be honest,” he says, using his preoccupation as a good excuse to avoid your gaze, “I wasn’t sure whether you were even going to come over tonight.”  

Well, there goes the hope that you’d get through the evening without last night’s faux pas being mentioned.  

“Well, it’s not like I could just leave Remi here…” you mumble, glancing away as Yoongi sits back down beside you having finished clearing up.  You don’t want him to think that that’s the only reason you came but you’re not sure what else to say, fidgeting nervously with the hem of your sleeves.  

There’s a moment of silence - a pause long enough that it prompts you to look up, and when you do you see that Yoongi looks just as nervous as you feel, picking at his cuticles.  

“I…” He hesitates, huffing as though he’s almost frustrated with himself before forcing himself to look at you.  His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “I’m glad you did, though.  I wanted a chance to say I’m sorry for last night, for-” 

“Don’t,” you interrupt, surprising yourself.  His eyes widen behind his glasses, his mouth hanging open having been caught off guard, and god damn it, he looks adorable.  “We’re friends, right?  I don’t want us to have to keep apologising to each other all the time for every little thing.”  Yoongi nods, shutting his mouth. 

Was that… disappointment you saw in his eyes when you referred to him as your friend?  Yoongi smiles weakly but it looks forced - unnatural - and it disappears too fast for it to have been real.  In its wake a frown appears, one that deepens as his attention returns to Remi, and it makes you ache in your chest to see it.  Since you’ve become closer, you’ve gotten so used to seeing his smile and hearing him laugh that this just feels wrong.  

All of this - you hiding the way you feel, pretending like last night’s kiss wasn’t the best thing to happen to you in… in forever;  acting like Yoongi isn’t the best thing to happen to you in forever - it’s all wrong.  You should tell him what he means to you.  You need to.  

“Yoongi,” you say gently, calling back his attention, and when he looks at you your stomach churns so fiercely with nerves you fear you might lose your dinner.  You swallow, trying to get a hold of yourself, and bravely reach out to snatch his hand up from where it rested on his knee, threading your fingers between his.  He looks down dumbly at your conjoined hands, eyes even wider than they were before.  “I… I didn’t mind it.  When you kissed me.”  You feel your cheeks burning with heat but force yourself to continue, reassured that Yoongi hasn’t immediately pulled his hand away.  “Or when I kissed you. However it happened.”  You titter a nervous laugh, acutely aware of how clammy your palms are, and you’re glad to see that Yoongi looks just as affected by your confession as you are; every inch of his skin flushed a pretty blush pink under his normal skin tone.  “There was never anything to apologise for.”  

You flash him a nervous smile once you’ve finally done talking, giving his hand a squeeze of encouragement in hopes that he won’t leave you hanging too long before voicing some sort of reply.  A confession of undying love is preferable, obviously, but short of that just knowing he’s not totally repulsed would be enough. 

You can’t say you expect the sudden laugh he lets out - nor know what to make of it - and you’re just about to start freaking out and pull your hand away when Yoongi shifts closer to you and places his other hand over the two of yours.  The rubbing of his thumb back and forth across your skin helps to calm you, and he’s no longer laughing as he looks into your eyes, taking a breath.  He quietly calls your name, leaning closer.  

And then suddenly, Remi whines, and the two of you instantly break apart.  

“You ok Rem?” Quickly, you rise to your knees and shuffle towards her, frowning with concern.  You don’t mean to panic, but this is the first sound of obvious distress you’ve heard from her and you can’t stand the thought of your sweet girl being in pain.  

She looks up at you from where she’s nestled amongst Yoongi’s covers, panting hard, and you have to force yourself not to reach out to give her the fussing that you’re longing to.  Beside you, Yoongi watches her closely; observes the way she stops panting just for a second or two and seems to stiffen slightly before beginning to pant all over again. 

“Is she ok?” you ask, though you’re not sure why you’re presuming that Yoongi will know any more about what’s going on than you do.  

Tentatively, Yoong reaches out and lays both hands on Remi’s stomach, waiting for the next pause in her panting.  His eyes narrow, fingers twitching atop her fur.  

“Her tummy feels hard,” he says, “I think she’s starting to push.”  

“Shit,” you whisper under your breath, blushing when Yoongi chuckles in response.  He removes his hands from her, placing them back on his lap just in time for Remi to decide she wants to move, and she rises from where’s lain in the duvet all this time and begins to circle and paw at the covers, panting ceaselessly.  

“You can do it, girl.”  Following Yoongi’s lead, you reach out and gently stroke her back in reassurance, very nearly bursting into tears when Remi chases after your hand when you pull it back, nuzzling into your palm.  “We’ve got this.”  

  The next two hours pass by in something of a blur.  You all maintain a careful distance (Holly included), giving affection when it seems like she's in need of it and holding back whenever she seems agitated or restless.  She must get up and down to rearrange the sheets underneath her at least a hundred times before the first puppy is born, and you watch on with a mixture of horror and wonderment as it slowly emerges from inside her, trying your best not to cry at the sudden squeal she releases as her baby starts to crown, bottom first.  

You won't lie, it's probably one of the most disgusting sights you've ever seen, and yet you can't help but feel overcome with emotion as you watch this puppy arrive into the world, still cocooned in its amniotic sac until Remi instinctively begins to lick it clean.  She brings it to life with firm laps of her tongue, not stopping till its little body starts to wriggle and it releases the tiniest of squeaks.  Frankly, it's a good job the puppy is so cute, as it gives you something to focus on as Remi decides to chow down on the placenta, thereby separating it from her offspring.  

By the time the second puppy is born the first has already started to feed, it's head almost completely hidden by Remi's fur as it latches on.  That birth is just as straightforward, too, though Yoongi does have to shorten its umbilical cord slightly when Remi leaves it dangling just a little too long.  You're in awe of how confident and competent he seems as he does it, not a hint of hesitation evident on his face from the moment he realises what's needed to the moment it's done.  

Ah, if only you could ever be so cool. 

It’s only as the third and final puppy is being born that you start to encounter some trouble.  You almost start to believe the scan had been wrong and you were only ever expecting two puppies, figuring that Remi must be done having not pushed in almost an hour and a half.  But then all of a sudden she’s restless again and after a few minutes more another puppy begins to emerge.  The sac of waters around this one looks different - so green and dark that you almost can’t make out what’s inside at all.  

“Yoongi.”  You say his name out of sheer nervousness, already knowing he’s right there beside you seeing the same very thing.  Just like before, the puppy slides out in the amniotic sac onto the towel placed underneath Remi’s back end, but this time she doesn’t seem to pay nearly so much attention to it as she did the others - sparing it just enough licks to break the sac and then turning away, closing her eyes.  

All of Remi’s puppies so far have been just as white in colour as Remi herself, and so would this puppy be if its fur weren’t stained an unpleasant shade of green.  By Remi’s hind legs it lies limply on the towel; unmoving, unbreathing.  

“Yoongi,” you choke out, your eyes spilling over with tears, “Yoongi, it’s not breathing.  Yoongi, it-” Stifling a sob, you slap your hands over your mouth as Yoongi springs into action next to you.

Brow furrowed in concentration, he snatches up the scissors and deftly separates the puppy from its placenta just like he did for the one that came before.  He scoops it up in both hands and tilts its head down in order to help any fluids that might remain to drain out, murmuring urgently under his breath.  

“Pass me the sucker,” he suddenly demands, outstretching his hand, and you rush to obey, your own hands shaking as you place it in his palm and watch on as he precedes to suction each of the puppy’s tiny nostrils and mouth.  You pray that that will do the job.  To see some sort of response, the tiniest wiggle or smallest of sounds.  Anything!  But nothing happens - nothing at all - and you can tell even Yoongi’s starting to get desperate.  

“C’mon little guy,” he mumbles, wrapping the puppy in the towel and starting to vigorously rub its back, its stomach, its head - up and down all over, over and over again.  “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon.”  Even Yoongi’s eyes are looking glassy now, the tip of his nose turning red as he holds back the tears that you’ve long since succumbed to.  

And then, just as your face falls into your hands and a sob shakes your shoulders, you hear the tiniest, most fragile of sounds.   A squeak followed by a sharp inhale of breath, and when you sharply look up you see that the tiniest puppy of the litter so far has finally begun to squirm, its mouth opening up wide to display the tiny pink tongue within.  

“Oh my god!”  You’re half laughing half crying as Yoongi stares down at the new life down within his hands, his eyes wide with wonderment.  There are tears trickling down his cheeks but he’s smiling more brightly than you’ve ever seen before, and he’s so heart-breakingly gentle as he lowers the puppy back down to Remi’s level and presents him to her.  

“You did so good, girl,” he praises, voice thick with emotion as Remi begins to lick the puppy with renewed enthusiasm.  She only stops once Yoongi slowly moves him away to nestle him in between his siblings, encouraging him to feed with softly whispered words of encouragement, and he waits until the puppy is eagerly suckling to finally let go and back off, exhaling a sigh of relief.  

"Well, that was-" Yoongi doesn't get the chance to finish what he's saying, abruptly silenced apart from the one lone 'oomph' he grunts out as your bodies collide, dropping the towel with which he'd just been wiping his hands.  

"You-" you mumble against his lips between each frantic, urgent kiss. "You - are - amazing." He's blindsided and you can't blame him; unresponsive and unyielding.  But Yoongi soon gets with the program, his arms looping around your waist to pull you flush against his chest.  

His face is wet when you take it in your hands - just like yours - but those tears are long forgotten as the two of you quickly become lost in one another.  It feels so exhilarating to have Yoongi kiss you back so enthusiastically; makes you believe that maybe he's been thinking about this just as much as you.  To hear him sigh your name has you melting against him, your whole body aflame with molten fire, and when you gently bite his lip it delights you even more to hear the way his breath hitches. 

"You really weren't kidding, were you?" Yoongi asks as he attempts to catch his breath, your attention now focused on trailing kisses along the angle of his jaw. 

"About what?" you murmur in reply, grinning against his skin as his hands grab at your clothes when you softly nip at his earlobe.  

"About not minding about the kiss."

"Oh no, not at all," you admit, tone playful, and you're just about to begin tracing kisses down his neck when one of Yoongi's hands finds your chin and tilts your head up, bringing your gaze back to his. His lips are curved in a gentle smile as he brushes them against yours, chuckling when you attempt to chase after them as he pulls away. 

"Good to know." His eyes follow the movement of his thumb as he drags it across your bottom lip, moistening his own with a flick of his tongue.  His touch lingers at the corner of your mouth for just a second longer, and in that moment you can feel your heart racing at the thought of what he might do next.  "As much as I'd like to explore this further-" 

Beside you, you hear the sound of Remi's puppies softly squeaking, and when you look down to where Remi's lay, you see that Holly has used your momentary distraction as an opportunity to start sneaking over, sniffing at the air.  You look back to Yoongi and are met with a regretful smile as he takes his hands off of you in favour of straightening the glasses that had been knocked askew by your passion.  

"Right," you sigh, looking around at all of the surrounding mess, "We're grandparents now, huh?  Have to be responsible.  Mature."  ie. not go carrying on like a pair of horny teenagers while there are still pieces of placenta strewn about the place.

Yoongi looks up at you from where he's already knelt down gathering up some of the dirty towels.  He smirks in a way you've never seen from him before - a way that makes your insides clench with excitement.  

"For now, sure.”

  You're infinitely grateful that Yoongi doesn't put you in charge of any of the messy stuff when it comes to clearing up.  All he tasks you with is watching over the puppies and keeping a very curious Holly at bay from his new offspring whilst Remi recovers and he deals with the carnage that's been left behind.  It's not a difficult job by any means. Holly is more than happy to be waylaid by tickles under the chin and tummy rubs, and you're thankful for that given how preoccupied you are with the images of what’s just happened as they replay over and over in your head.  

You still can't believe that you kissed him.  That you kissed Yoongi and he kissed you back - kissed you back and, unless you're horribly mistaken, wanted more .   And what did he mean 'for now'?  Does he want to pick up where you left off tonight?  Tomorrow?  Maybe he's just saying that to give himself an out in the future?  Just in case he changes his mind… 

No, no, he wouldn't do that.  No one could kiss like that if they weren't really into it, and god , what a kiss.  It may have been a while, but you can't even remember the last time locking lips had you feeling so hot and heavy.  Have you ever had a kiss quite like that before?  You’re sure you’d remember it if you had.  

“How’re they doing?”  You automatically smile at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, hoping that the flush of your cheeks won’t give away the explicit nature of the daydreaming he’s just interrupted.  Stood in the doorway, you notice he’s no longer wearing his glasses, though the evidence of them remains in the pink indentations on either side of his nose.  Now that his glasses are gone the dark circles under his eyes are more evident, and you feel your brow creasing with worry as he enters the room and bends down next to you, stifling a yawn as he gives Holly a little love behind the ears.  

Whilst not being the most physically strenuous of evenings, tonight has been emotionally demanding for you both, and it’s only now as you realise that that you come to appreciate how utterly drained you feel.  You can only assume Yoongi feels similarly, given by the slightly glazed look in his eyes as he checks in on the puppies, one by one.  

“They’re doing pretty good, I think.”  Or at least, you think they are.  One by one the puppies had stopped nursing and fallen asleep next to one another, each with a full round belly.  That can only be a good thing, right?  “Remi’s pooped.”  She hasn’t moved since giving birth, as fast asleep as the puppies laid at her side.  

“She’s earned her rest,” Yoongi admires fondly, giving her a very brief pad on the head so as not to wake her.  You ‘mm’ your agreement, swallowing back the emotion that rises once more in your chest.  You’re so proud it almost makes you ache.  “I was thinking,” he continues, turning his attention to you, “Seems a shame to move her.  You want to sleep here tonight so you can still keep an eye?”  

You feel your lips part at his question, your mind automatically falling straight into the gutter.  So he does mean to continue things tonight, then…  

Seeing your expression, Yoongi grins wolfishly as he stands, letting out a chuckle.   

“The couch pulls out into a futon, so you can take the bed, if you do want to stay.  

Oh.  So, maybe not then… 

You desperately try not to let the disappointment show in your face but you figure it must at least a little seeing as Yoongi begins to laugh again, eyes full of mirth.  He extends his hand to you to help you stand and you marvel once more at how long his fingers are as they thread between yours; how delicate yet so strong.  The last thing you expect is to be pulled into his arms again so soon and so suddenly, near losing your balance as Yoongi draws you near.

“You’re cute when you pout,” he teases, taking your bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger and giving it a gentle pinch.  The smirk he’s wearing is as infuriating as it is sexy and you’re powerless to resist as Yoongi leans in to brush his lips ever so sweetly against yours, ever so fleeting.  

He’s enjoying this too much, damn it.  You should’ve never given yourself away!  Can he feel how hard your heart is beating, you wonder?  Can he feel how much you want him from how needily you grab at his belt loops?

“Let’s not rush anything,” he mumbles as you insist on kissing him once more, leaning forward onto your tippy-toes.  Sighing, you eventually pull away, eyes opening to see Yoongi looking down at you with thinly veiled amusement.  His smile is fond rather than teasing, though, so you let it slide.  He’s right, anyway, you suppose.  The two of you have only just revealed your mutual affection for one another; no need to go jumping into bed straight away.  

Ugh, being mature sucks.  

Reluctantly, you part ways for the time being and head back to your own apartment to ready yourself for bed.  You fill the small wash bag you usually take on vacation with all the toiletries you might need before embarking on the arduous task of deciding what to change into.  Do you go for ultimate comfort and opt for a baggy t-shirt and sweats, or do you dress to impress and slip on a silky camisole?  

It takes you a shameful amount of time to decide but in the end you settle on a compromise; one of your cuter, cotton t-shirts and a pair of shorts of a slightly more modest length.  After all, Yoongi’s made it perfectly clear that getting laid isn’t on the cards tonight.  No point in making too much of an effort - he might start to think you’re not coming back if you take the time to go shave your legs.  You cast them a cursory glance as you slip on your sliders ready to go back next door; they’re not obviously fuzzy from a distance, at least.  

When you get back to Yoongi’s apartment, he’s nowhere to be seen.  You figure he must be in the spare bedroom changing (and boy are you envious he has one of those) because he’s not in his own, and wherever he is he must’ve taken Holly with him as Remi and her puppies continue to sleep just as soundly as when you left.  He’s clearly been busy, though; there are fresh sheets on the bed, the corner of the duvet pulled back as though inviting you in.  Considerate as always.  

You figure you may as well carry on getting ready for bed in Yoongi’s absence, and with a yawn and a rub of your eyes, you dig out your toothbrush and head toward the bathroom, sliders slapping against the floor.  

“Oh!”  You almost drop your brush when you push open the bathroom door and find Yoongi inside, Holly sitting obediently at his feet.  You thank God he’s merely brushing his teeth and not in the shower - or worse, on the toilet - though you still stutter apologies and start to leave until Yoongi waves a hand to beckon you in, unbothered.  He smiles at you in the mirror, lips lined with foam, and you shyly smile in return as he hands you the very same toothpaste.  

Together, the two of you stand and brush your teeth; the room silent other than the rustling of bristles against enamel.  Your eyes keep meeting in the mirror and oh, how you wish you were able to ignore the way your face begins to blush and how Yoongi’s smile just grows and grows the more embarrassed you get.  It’s just so domestic, the two of you, stood side by side like this.  Like you’re husband and wife just going about your normal nightly routine; you’ll spit and rinse and then dab your mouths with matching ‘his’ and ‘hers’ towels.  

Hey, a girl can dream, right?  

“Thanks for getting the bed all sorted,” you say once you’re all done and Yoongi follows you out into the hallway with a nod and a ‘no problem’.  

“Just come wake me up if you need anything, alright?”  This time it’s your turn to nod, and you’re about to head back to Yoongi’s room when he suddenly reaches out and brushes his thumb against your cheek, smiling softly.  It grows when you lean into his touch, sighing, and you see his chest rise and fall with a heavy inhale before he reluctantly pulls away.  His hand falls back to his side and you have to resist the urge to reach out and take it in your own.

“Goodnight, Yoongi,” you bid him, his name heavy on your tongue.  

“Goodnight,” he replies, and just the timbre of Yoongi’s voice alone is enough to make your stomach flip with excitement.  It makes it hard to drag yourself away, and even harder to force yourself to relax once you finally slip between Yoongi’s sheets, knowing that he’s just down the hall.  It doesn’t help that they smell just like him, too, despite being clean, and maybe it makes you a bit of a creeper but you won’t deny that you take great pleasure in snuggling your face into Yoongi’s pillow, wishing you lying on his chest instead.   

  You don’t know exactly how long it takes you to fall asleep, nor how long you’re asleep before the sound of Yoongi’s voice awakens you.  Bleary-eyed, you look towards the door and see a slip of light shining beneath from the light in the hallway, disturbed by the movement of shadow.  

“Sorry, Hol. you can’t go in there.” you hear Yoongi whispering on the other side of the door.  “The ladies need their rest.”  Listening to them, you can’t help but internally ‘aww’.  Apparently, Holly must miss Remi as much as she does when they’re parted, and oh how you wish she could actually understand a word you say so you could prod her awake and tell her so.  “You don’t think I wish I was in there as well?���  

Wide-eyed, you stare out into the darkness on hearing what Yoongi had said, hands clasped atop your chest.  Is that true?  Does he really want to be in here with you, sharing this bed?  You can’t imagine any reason for it to be a lie; you know all your whispered confessions to Remi are always true enough.   

What should you do?  Would he be embarrassed if he knew you’d heard?  Should you - 

“C’mon, let’s go,” you hear him say, the shadows beneath the door disappearing, and it’s that sudden loss that forces you into the split decision you make that has you leaping up out of bed and flinging open Yoongi’s door before he can get too far away.  

“You can sleep in here, if you want,” you declare, ever so slightly out of breath.  You wish you’d spared a thought as to whether your hair might be a mess but fuck it, Yoongi’s already turned around and seen you now.  “If it’s easier.”  A hesitant smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he looks you up and down but there’s no such uncertainty from Holly; he happily runs right by you the moment there’s an opening, tail wagging up a storm.  

“You sure?” he checks, taking a step forward and oh jesus, of course you’re sure when he’s stood there looking - sounding - like he does; voice rough with sleep, hair tousled and half-dressed.  You can only be grateful that he doesn’t sleep topless or else you might just combust on the spot, so deliciously tight are the boxers he’s wearing.  

“He’s just gonna keep you up all night otherwise.”  You try to sound casual, you really do, but the nervous little giggle that escapes you as Yoongi enters your personal space gives you away.  He grins as he passes you in the doorway to head towards the bed, and just before you shut the door to plunge you both back into darkness you see him reach out and pull back the covers from the right-hand side of the bed.  

“You sleep on the left,” he says as he climbs in, sheets rustling, “Good.”  He must sleep on the right then, you’re guessing, and it makes you more happy than it should do to learn this, smiling to yourself in the dark.  You can hear the puppies snuffling around as you tentatively make your way over to the bed, but you're sure Remi will alert you if there's a problem.   Right now, you're too busy mustering up the courage to climb back into bed next to a man you've been fantasising about for so long.  

“Don't stand there getting cold.”  After such a long night, Yoongi’s probably too eager for sleep to have much patience for you dithering around at the bedside.  Now that your eyes have started to adjust to the lack of light, you can just about make out his face turned towards you, watching as you finally climb into bed, and it does nothing to lessen the nervous fluttering of your heart. 

You’re so tense; uncertain of how to lie or how close you ought to get.  You end up lying flat on your back for lack of a better idea, trying not to fidget as you stare up at the ceiling, and even though you’re not touching, you’re acutely aware of Yoongi’s body just a few inches away.  His breaths are slow and steady - nothing like your subtle, shallow inhales - and you lie there wishing that you had any hope of remaining as cool and calm as he always seems to be.

Eventually, though, your panic begins to wane, enough that you trust yourself to speak without giving yourself away.  

“Night Yoongi,” you whisper, not sure if he’s even still awake.  You hear a soft sigh and the rustling of sheets from what you presume must be him turning over to make himself more comfortable.  Soothed by his lack of reply, you, too, roll over in hopes of finally falling back to sleep, but when you’re met by the sight of Yoongi’s dark eyes looking back at you, you’re nothing but wide awake.  

“Hi,” he murmurs quietly, and even in the dark you can make out the subtle curve of his mouth as he smiles.  Your heart thuds in your chest, your throat suddenly dry, and even though you open your mouth to reply no sound has the chance to come out because faster than you can realise what’s happening, Yoongi’s closed the space between you and stolen your voice with a kiss.  

This isn’t a kiss like the last one you shared.  He was holding back last time - careful, gentle kisses that never lingered, never deepened - but this time is different.  This time, Yoongi kisses like he means to consume you, with a hunger so fierce that it sparks a yearning just as voracious within you.  It burns through you as Yoongi leans over your body, the weight of his own forcing you to roll onto your back as his fingers weave their way into your hair.  

Willingly, you submit to him in each way in which he asks, one by one; when he coaxes his way into your mouth with the press of his tongue, when you hook your leg over his hip when the hand that was in your hair slides down onto your ass, pulling your pelvis towards him.  

“Wha-” You gasp as he rocks his hips against you, only breaking your kiss out of the necessity to breathe, and the moment you do Yoongi simply finds another target for his lips, trailing them along the length of your jaw.  “What happened to- to not rushing anything?” 

“Fuck what I said,” he mumbles in reply, voice laden with desire.  Yoongi doesn’t curse very often but there’s something so hot about him doing it now between teasing your throat with his teeth and rubbing himself up against you.  “I’ve wanted you for months.”  

Well, that makes two of you then.  And he’s not lying, either; you can feel him growing steadily harder against your leg each time your bodies move, seeking out one another’s body heat.  

“Can I take these off?”  You feel his fingers lingering at the waistband of your shorts and eagerly you nod, pulling down one side as he handles the other till you’re able to kick them off somewhere beneath the covers.  

“Please.”  Rolling onto your back, you take Yoongi with you, seeking out his lips with your own.  While his hand reaches between your legs, you’re busy tugging at his t-shirt, baring his torso just in time for your fingernails to dig into his shoulders at the first touch of his fingers, gasping as he brushes the tips featherlight against you.  

“Baby,” he groans, and you preen at his use of the pet name, “You’re so wet.”  And you can feel that it’s true - can feel how sinfully his digits are able to slip and slide about your cunt, teasing their way between your lips.  

“Please Yoongi,” you plead, reaching between your bodies to grasp his wrist and tugging, tilting your pelvis up.  You’ve been dreaming about having his fingers inside you for so long that you’ve no shame in showing him just how much you want it.  You bite your bottom lip as he gazes down at you; watching, waiting to see your reaction as he presses one finger inside.  

“Haa!” you cry out, head tipping back into the pillow, and your eyes are too tightly pressed shut to see the way Yoongi smiles in satisfaction.  Craving more from you, one finger quickly becomes two, and you can’t help but grab at his shoulders for purchase as he so deftly stretches you open.  Each motion - each thrust and curl of Yoongi’s fingers - makes the most obscene of noises, so gratuitous is your want for him.  

Suddenly, Yoongi ceases your kissing, an urgent look in his eyes.

“Can I get a taste?”  His request has your pelvic muscles clenching around his fingers with excitement - a response you presume Yoongi rightly perceives as your consent, given the cocky smile that appears on his face.  

“Only if you’re as good as your tongue as you are with those fingers,” you tease, breathless.  You’re pleased by the way he chuckles - even more so by his reply.  

“Even better,” he promises, and though you mourn the loss of his fingers as they withdraw, you’re filled with too much anticipation to really care.  His eyes fixed on yours, Yoongi kisses his way down your body, making sure to spare time for each of your breasts along the way.  Through the material of your t-shirt he suckles and licks till the material has turned see-through, and only then does he hitch it up under your chin to reveal your chest and repeat the whole process again.  He lingers long enough to leave no doubt that he’s as talented with his tongue as he’s said, your nipples tingling long after he’s done drawing them out, stiffened into tight little peaks.  

Your hips are squirming by the time Yoong’s head is between your legs.  He holds them steady with firm hands as he kisses at your inner thighs, twice suckling hard enough for you to know he’ll have left a mark - evidence of his desire.  Your want to see him clearly is at odds with how comforting you find the dark, less self-conscious in knowing that even as Yoongi’s parts your lips with his thumb and forefinger, you’re not quite so brazenly exposed.  

“Tell me what you like,” Yoongi instructs as he makes himself comfortable on his stomach.  You mumble your agreement, heart hammering with a mixture of nerves and excitement because, in all honesty, this has never really been your favourite thing before.  You don’t want him to be disappointed if this doesn’t get you there, hoping he’ll realise that it’s more about the journey than the destination.  

He starts slow; long, luxurious laps up and down, ascending from your perineum and back again to gather your essence on his tongue.  He moans as he does it, and just hearing how much he seems to be enjoying the taste of you makes it feel all the better as he does it once more.  

“I like that,” you sigh, hips shifting to get more comfortable as you close your eyes and focus on the sensation of his tongue.  His hands are on your thighs as your own make their way down into his hair, and it’s just as soft as you imagine it to be - Yoongi near purring with pleasure into your heat every time you dig your fingers in whenever something feels particularly good.  

“Mm, o-ooh, I like that too.”  Your moans become more frequent as Yoongi focuses his attention on your clitoris, the tip of his tongue gradually gaining in speed now that Yoongi’s found his purpose.  For someone who has such a small mouth and such a dainty, kittenish tongue, you had no idea he could be so skilled with it - so deft as it wriggles beneath your clitoral hood in delicious figures of eight.  “Fuck, that feels good…”  

With each second longer that he continues, you can feel a heat gradually rising within you.  It starts right there between your legs, burning in your core, but soon you can feel the flush all the way up to your chest and your back is beginning to sweat, your mouth open so each breath is a pant - a gasping moan.  

In search of relief you tug off your t-shirt, but it does little to cool you down.  Not when Yoongi seems determined to have you falling apart on the end of his tongue, not giving you a moment's reprieve even when your hips grow restless, toes curling into the blankets.  

“Oh, oh, Yoongi,” you pant, one hand fisted in his hair whilst your other is grabbing at your own.  Your fingers wind in so tight that Yoongi responds in kind by sucking your on your clit so hard it makes you cry out, but the throb of pain it leaves behind on serves to push you even closer to the edge, begging for your release.  

“Please, please, please,” you babble, and your prayers are answered when Yoongi fills you with his fingers whilst simultaneously torturing you with his tongue.  With artful precision, his fingers crook and curl inside you to stimulate your g-spot, and though he’s gentle to start with, Yoongi is an expert at interpreting the sounds you make to know exactly how rough or fast you want it - not stopping till arousal is gushing from you with every stroke.  

“Mm, Yoongi, I’m gonna- oh, oh shit!”  Yoongi doesn’t stop as your orgasm takes a hold of you,  working you through it and savouring every drop of ecstasy he manages to coax out.   It’s only when your body begins to twitch from overstimulation that he finally begins to slow his ministrations, eventually emerging from between your legs when you weakly call his name, tapping on his shoulder.  

“Can I turn on the light?” he asks whilst you’re still basking in your post-orgasmic haze, too blissed out to do anything but nod your consent and watch as he reaches over you to turn on the lamp that rests on the bedside table over on your side of the bed.  “Wanna see you.”   

You have to throw your arm across your eyes when he first switches the light on.  When you eventually start to pull it back, Yoongi is still leaning over you, an adoring look in his eyes as he gazes down. 

“Would you look at that,” he says wistfully, cupping your cheek in his palm before leaning down to kiss you.  You can taste yourself on his tongue as it rolls into your mouth but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he stops kissing you just to softly whisper ‘you’re gorgeous’ right against your lips.  

“You’re just saying that because you haven’t gotten yours yet,” you tease, trailing your fingertips down the length of his chest.  Yoongi chuckles, his laughter interrupted by a groan when you cup his balls through his boxer shorts and press your palm against his length.  

“Am not,” he insists, even as his hips rock forward into your hard and he nips at your bottom lip, groaning again as you squeeze.  

“Still, I think it’s about time for your turn, don't you?”  Whispered into his ear, your purr causes a shiver to run through Yoongi’s body before he abruptly pulls away and sits back on his heels.   Seeming to take a moment to collect himself, he runs a hand through his hair, and you can’t help but take advantage of this opportunity to take a good long look at your lover - to admire his slight waist and unblemished skin.  His face is flushed with desire and his eyes dark as they similarly trace your form, and you feel the very same blush fill your cheeks when your gaze is inevitably drawn to the ill-concealed erection within his boxers.  

Even hidden away beneath black material, its outline is unmistakable - as is the wet patch of material at its tip.  Yoongi catches you looking and you bite your lip at the smirk that curls his as he reaches inside his boxers and pulls his cock free, tugging them down just enough for you to make out the dark curls of pubic hair at its base.  

“There are condoms in the drawer,” he tells you with a pointed look at the bedside table, but frankly you’re too entranced with the sight of his vascular hand as it strokes the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen up and down to want to look away.  

You extend your arms towards him with a coy smile, opening them up in welcome, and Yoongi cocks a curious eyebrow as he shuffles out of his boxers before settling down on top of you, his cock laying heavy on your stomach.  

“I’m clean, and I’m on birth control.”  You hear Yoongi’s breath hitch with excitement as you place lingering kisses against his jaw, his cheek, his lips.  

“You sure?” he checks, and you can’t help but giggle because even as he’s double-checking Yoongi is already lifting his hips and reaching down to take his cock in hand, guiding it towards your cunt.  “We don’t need any more little accidents around here.”  Your insides flutter in anticipation as you feel him run the tip of it between your folds till it’s slick with your arousal, one nod away from slipping inside with blissful ease.  

“I’m sure,” you grin before kissing him again, and this time they don’t stop.  Yoongi swallows up the moan you make as he slides his cock inside you in one smooth motion, right to the hilt.  He smothers the gasp that comes thereafter when he pulls back and does it again, this time harder than the last.  With his tongue between your teeth, the two of you soon find a rhythm that has you both perspiring with effort - the sounds of your heavy breathing mingling with the slap of flesh on flesh and the slick sounds of your cunt.  

“Oh god, Yoongi!” you cry out when he alters the angle of his hips, pressing in harder, faster than before.  

“I know baby.”  He finds your hand where it lays upon the pillow and threads his fingers between yours, clasping it tight as he groans, forehead pressed to yours, and grits out, “I know, I know.”  

You pick your feet up off the bed and wrap them tightly around his waist, urging him deeper, and Yoongi doesn’t disappoint.  With renewed vigour, his hips surge forward, so deep that from this angle the tip of his cock not only kisses your cervix but grazes your g-spot on the way out as well, and even without any clitoral stimulation you can feel yourself getting close all over again.  

“Say my name,” Yoongi urges between kisses, squeezing your hand in his, “Let me hear you say it.”   You do as he asks - one time, two times, three times - and every time you do you swear your orgasm looms just that little bit closer.  

“Again, baby,” he chokes out, and you can tell he’s getting close too from the tension in his voice and how his cock has begun to twitch, his thrusts frantic now.  “Say it again for me.”   Yoongi throws his head back, lifting his chest from yours to drive his cock into you even deeper.  “Fuck, I love the way you say it.”  

There are tears forming in the corners of your eyes as his name tumbles from your lips, so close that it near steals the breath from your lungs.  Every one of your senses is filled with him - with the excruciating bliss that’s sizzling through your veins - and you can’t get enough.  Gripping tighter, pulling closer.  Kissing, touching, feeling.   It’s so much.  So much, and yet somehow you want more. 

“Please,” you choke out against the press of his lips, and you don’t even know what you’re begging for with both your hands held in his, gripping them tight atop the pillow.  You never want this to stop - never want it to end - and yet you’re both rapidly reaching the climax, tumbling into oblivion together.  

You try to hold back, you really do, but when Yoongi groans your name, pressing in deep, you’ve not a shred of willpower left.  You want to give in. 

“I’m close,” he tells you, the words gritted out through his teeth, “Feel so good around me, baby.” He nips at your jawline - nuzzles so sweetly into the crook of your neck and smatters it with kisses.  “Gonna cum with me?  So pretty when you cum.” 

“Yes,” you gasp, and you’re so close, so very, very close. “Cum in me, Yoongi, please - please .”  

With the sounds of your pleading, Yoongi, too, loses all semblance of self-control.  Driving his hips forward into you, he groans at the gradual tightening of your insides, and as his cock hardens even further, twitching in anticipation, you finally reach your end.  It’s so intense you aren’t even able to speak through your climax - unable to vocalise how incredible it feels except for the raggedly drawn breaths you take once it finally begins to fade.  

You’re disappointed to realise that Yoongi has already cum by the time you’ve returned to your senses, though from how hard he’s breathing you figure he must not have been too far behind.  His face is flushed with heat, chest perspiring, and you can feel the warmth he’s filled you with trickling out from where his pelvis sits flush with yours.   

He’s still holding your hands, you realise, and when Yoongi leans down to sweetly kiss you as he squeezes them in his own, you feel yourself blush even more fiercely than before, filled with girlish glee.  Ridiculous, really, given all that you’ve just done.  

“That was amazing,” you whisper against his lips, and his smile is just as coy as yours as he pulls away to look down into your eyes.  He doesn’t say anything but his tender expression tells you all you need to know, as does the way he can’t help but kiss you over and over again before he finally withdraws.  

“One second,” he tells you as he swings his legs out of bed and you roll onto your side to watch him go, laughing as he’s forced to shoo Holly out of the way from where’s sat waiting for attention, chin resting on the edge of the mattress. 

“I hope he hasn’t been sitting there the whole time!”  You watch fondly as Yoongi shimmies his boxers back on with a hop and a wiggle.  Gosh, he really does have the cutest little butt… “We’ll have scarred him for life.” 

“His own fault,” Yoongi dismisses, unconcerned. “I’ll just go grab some tissue.”  He leaves the room for a moment or two, and in that time you have to try very hard to resist the urge to shimmy a little dance atop his mattress - the threat of accidentally making a mess on his newly changed bedsheets looming in your mind.  At the foot of the bed, you can hear the puppies snuffling around, probably looking for their next feed, and you have to stop yourself from crawling to the other end of the bed to go look at them, too.  

As it happens, Yoongi checks on them when he gets back in your stead.  He passes you the tissues and then pre-occupies himself with Remi and the puppies whilst you clean yourself up, waiting until you climb back under the covers to finally rejoin you.  He sighs in contentment as he gets comfortable, gazing up at the ceiling with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and all you can do is stare at him in wonderment as you lay on your side, hardly daring to believe that the last half an hour or so was even real.  

“I really like you,” you whisper after a minute or two has passed, still unable to wipe the goofy love-sick grin you’re wearing off of your face.  Yoongi turns his head to the side to look at you, a cocky gleam in his eyes as he takes in your expression.  

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrow lifting.  Effortlessly cool, he extends his left arm out across the pillow to invite you to curl against his side.  You do so immediately, kissing the spot on which you then lay your head, snuggling close.  You feel his lips press against the top of your head in turn, and through his chest you hear his heart begin to gallop as he squeezes you tightly in his arms, curling them around you.  “I think I really kind of like you too.”  

****

You never intended to keep them all.  

One, maybe.  You and Yoongi had talked about it; how it’d be a shame to sell them all and not get to see how the pups would eventually turn out.  But the more time that went on - the longer the two of you spent with them and got to know and love all their little personalities - the more you couldn’t bear the idea of parting with even a single one.  

And maybe you would’ve come around to the idea of them leaving if Yoongi hadn’t been just as smitten with them as you were.  You were bad influences on each other, sending each other picture updates whenever either of you were out of the apartment ( your apartment, with both your names on the lease now, not just Yoongi’s).  As if you could’ve really brought yourself to use any of those adorable photos to place an ad that would eventually take them away from you.  You should’ve known from the moment they first opened up those beady little eyes and gazed into yours that you were done for.  

Though five dogs is undeniably a handful, you can’t bring yourself to regret the decision.   Not even now, as you hold a double lead in one hand and Yoongi holds a triple in the other, somehow still managing to keep yours conjoined as your pack pulls you along.  God help you should the whole lot of them ever spot a squirrel and decide to run, or make a mad dash for a half-eaten pack of crisps strewn across the ground.  

“Hey, hey, hey!” Yoongi warns, keeping a good grip on the puppies as they surge towards the greying spaniel that comes trotting along off-lead, his elderly owner just a little way down the path.  “Nicely, nicely.”  

You hope one day your dogs might be well enough behaved - or at least old and lazy enough - to walk so nicely off lead.  The spaniel is adorably patient despite being mobbed by three white, fluffy clouds; their noses searching out every available orifice to sniff.  You’re grateful that at least Remi and Holly have the manners to stay out of it, easily distracted by the sound of the treat packet you’re rustling inside your coat pocket.  

“Oh, what a lovely little family you’ve got there!” the elderly woman coos as she comes closer, and you thank the lord Yoongi has the good sense to hold the puppies back.  Even though they’re almost a year old they haven’t quite yet learned their strength, and you’ve no doubt they’d end up knocking her over if their overenthusiasm isn’t adequately reigned in.  “You’re so blessed!”  

Beside you Yoongi nods, his chin lifting in pride as the dogs wait to be petted one by one, tails wagging furiously along the ground.  He’s too busy watching them to notice the instinctive way your hand reaches for your stomach at the kind old lady’s words, fingers splaying wide over your lower abdomen where a little life inside you grows.  

You haven’t told him yet, but oh, you can’t help but start to grin as you imagine how shocked he’s going to be - how happy and excited.  If you closed your eyes now, you’re sure you’d be able to imagine the exact smile he’ll wear, all teeth and gums and sparkling eyes.  

Yoongi squeezes your hand in his, bringing you back to the present, and you give your tummy one last gentle rub as you return the woman’s smile, heart so full it feels fit to burst.  

“Yeah," you smile, catching Yoongi's gaze and beaming all the more, "We really are.”   

****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  ****  **** **** 

Your feedback is always appreciated, dear readers!  Please let me know what you think ^^ 

Also, I’m sure we all already know what Holly looks like, but just in case you were wondering about Remi’s breed, she is a Japanese Spitz who would like an awful lot like this -

And their puppies would end up look a little something like this -

Freakin’ adorable, right?  

Also, those of you who’ve followed my blog for a while might’ve now realised that I modelled Remi after my own little Japanese Spitz, Shiro.  Is that awfuly self indulgent of me?  Oh yes.  Do I care?  Not even a little bit *grin* 

[severelynerdysheep]

Quick Reminder that ear cropping is NOT okay.

“ But cropping their ears helps lower rates of Infection to the Ear Canal!” .

It is true that certain breeds with long, floppy ears are more prone to developing ear infections, but that’s not the case for Pit Bulls, Great Danes & Dobermans etc. Breeds that commonly have their ears cropped. Cocker Spaniels, Poodles, Bassett Hounds and some other breeds who also have floppy ears are more prone to chronic ear infections, but this increased risk is not a result of their ears (floppy ears are nature's way of protecting the ear from insects, water, and dirt etc.) its a result of the fact that these breeds also have a greater density of apocrine glands & other genetic factors that increase their risk for infection.

“This clustering of risk factors suggests the risk of otitis externa in pedigreed dogs must be considered on a breed-by-breed basis, and that grouping study samples by ear shape (e.g., pendulous or erect) may not be justified”. – Ear Cropping & Canine Otitis External FAQ, AVMA

To sum up, cropping the ears does not reduce a dog’s chances of getting ear infections in their ear canals. The number one risk for ear infections is genetic predisposition, and dogs that traditionally have their ears cropped are not in that list. Heck, one of the very risks of this cosmetic surgery is the possibility of developing ear infections!

“But it lowers their risk of ear Hematoma!”

The most common cause of an ear hematoma in dogs is an ear infection or other irritation within the ear. And most dogs who develop eat infections are those which the genetic disposition who also happen to be breeds that usually have floppy ears. Cropping the ears of one of the breeds that commonly have their ears cropped does not lower the risk of ear hematoma because they do not have a greater risk for ear infections. Because as explained above, genetic disposition is the causal factor in developing ear infections and breeds who commonly have their ears cropped do not have a genetic disposition to developing ear infections. Correlation is not causation folks!

“Ear cropping is just like spaying/naturing though!”

Comparing ear cropping to spaying and neutering is a very common defence argument made by those who are pro ear cropping. The argument being that just like ear cropping we choose to spay & neuter our pets, which makes it an elective surgery. However, there’s a world of difference between choosing to cut some of your dog’s ear for looks (because it has no proven health benefits) versus spaying & neutering our pets to help fight against the massive overpopulation problem by preventing unwanted litters of pups that are at risk for ending up shelters. Though of course, nobody should be buying a dog from a breeder in the first place, but that’s another issue and I will link to a whole post I’ve written about that here.

In short, trying to justify the needless mutilation of another sentient beings ears for cosmetic purposes by trying to compare it to a procedure which both has real health benefits (such as ) and has wider benefits to try to prevent/manage the massive overpopulation/overcrowded shelter crisis we are facing as a direct result of the pet industry and societies attitude towards dogs and other “pet” species.

To be clear, there are no health benefits to cropping the ears of any of the breeds who commonly have their ears cropped. And while there is no health benefits to these animals to have this elective cosmetic surgery, there are real risks to the health of the animals (auch as allergic reactions, medical complications, scarring etc.) and regardless of what pro ear cropping folks say, this mutilation undeniably causes needless discomfort/pain to these animals. Especially during the long healing process which can be more painful than the actual surgery.

We also know that dogs can communicate a lot of information to other animals and people by using their ears. So when the ears are mutilated via cropping, dosg can no longer effectively communicate their state of being to other animals, and humans leading to fear, ostracism, and conflict. Many dogs also understanable undergo a dramatic change in personality after this cosmetic mutilaton, becoming more aggressive or overly timid especially when people approach their head or ears. 

This is why ear cropping has rightly been banned in parts of Canada, all of Australia, New Zealand & in Scandinavian countries. And the American Veterinary Medical Association (AVMA), the Canadian Veterinary Medical Association, the Australian Veterinary Association & the American Animal Hospital Association (AAHA) all oppose ear cropping. Citing the fact that this is purely a cosmetic procedure with potential (and pretty common) negative outcomes for the animal.

From the AVMA on ear cropping: They "are not medically indicated nor of benefit to the patient," and "these procedures cause pain and distress, and, as with all surgical procedures, are accompanied by inherent risks of anesthesia, blood loss, and infection."

[queerautism]

Am I exploiting my dog?

Yesterday I asked @severelynerdysheep if I'm exploiting my dog by having him as an assistance dog in training (assistance dog is the legal UK term for service dog), and they linked me to this article.

It's an incredibly bad piece. Let's go through it.

"Firstly, it should be obvious to most observers that many service animals are being harmed. Police canine units and military animals are often intentionally cruelly treated as part of the training process"

'Service animal' is not a term interchangeable with 'working dog'. These are not service animals and irrelevant to the discussion. Though, for the record, police and military dogs just shouldn't be a thing and their training is garbage.

"The question of exploitation and harm is more nuanced when it comes to service animals used to assist those with disabilities, such as emotional support animals or guide dogs for the blind."

Really, those are the two examples you're going for? Emotional support animals are NOT service animals, and do not need to have any kind of special training that a pet wouldn't have, or perform any tasks outside of their presence being a comfort. Lumping them together does a huge disservice to disabled people, and it's an extremely common misconception by people who know very little about actual service work.

Only mentioning guide dogs for the blind also isn't great, because it's the only kind a lot of ableist people know about and recognise, which means a lot of handlers get told we don't really need our dogs, because we aren't blind. You had an opportunity to actually bring up the amazing diversity of service dogs here (autism dogs, psychiatric service dogs, Medical alert dogs, etc) and educate people, but instead reinforced misconceptions and stereotypes.

"These animals are not usually subjected to stressors which any ordinary companion animal wouldn’t be"

This is not exactly true. Service dogs deal with many situations and environments ordinary pets don't, of course. But you cannot define for a dog what they should perceive as a 'stressor', anymore than you can decide what a dog should or shouldn't find aversive. Many dogs find loud noises stressful and aversive. Mine, as a service dog in training, does not, and hasn't ever, since he comes from a line of working dogs bred to be very 'gunsteady', which means hunting dogs who wouldn't be scared of the loud sound of a gunshot.

If a service dog finds these things stressful, they'll wash out and not be one anymore.

"these animals are still being exploited for human gain, they are bred, raised and trained solely for human benefit."

And we come back to the central idea of exploitation. I just don't get it. It's like these people can't imagine building a mutualistic relationship with a dog, based on trust, where you work as a team. Where the dog also benefits.

What do they think our day to day looks like? What exactly is exploitative about it?

"As for whether or not these animals would be better off were they not service animals, this is something of a moot point, since these animals are bred specifically for the purpose of being service animals."

Actually mostly they are not! Program breeding, where the whole litter is bred for a specific organization and all puppies are expected to be service dog prospects, is quite rare and very much not how most disabled people get their prospects.

It's a lot more common for good breeders with breeds and lines suitable for service work to place some puppies from each litter as prospects, if they seem to have the temperament for it.

As an example, my dog's breeder does not breed exclusively service dogs at all. They are working line poodles, and in my dog's litter there was a lot of variety! - Another one of them also went to service work, I believe two went into dog sport homes, another one into a dog conformation home, and the rest went to pet homes, all depending on their individual traits and what they would be happiest as.

"Service animals are currently very rarely drawn from rescue populations, but this seems like an obvious way to solve a lot of the ethical issues involved with using service animals."

Fun fact, I tried talking to a few rescues, including breed specific rescues, for a few months after I decided I needed a service dog myself. It was my first option.

They all ended up turning me away, saying the same thing. Their dogs had their own difficulties to work through, and the chances of being successful with this training are extremely low. 99% of them simply aren't suitable.

Proper service dog training takes about 3 years. Here you're asking disabled people to adopt dogs with unknown genetics and spend incredible amounts of money and time for a huge chance of failure. It's cruel and dismissive.

Even in the cases where rescue dogs have successfully become service dogs (which of course still happens), they often have a very short working life, because they haven't been bred responsibly and with all the proper health clearances, which leaves them at risk of serious health issues and early death.

"There are groups mounting pressure to only train rescued animals, contrary to popular belief, many breeds of animals are capable of being guide dogs or emotional support animals, and since many dogs in shelters are still young there is little reason to resort to irresponsible breeding practices to fulfil the demand for service animals."

If you want rescue only service animals, you literally don't give a shit about disabled people. We are acceptable casualties to you. What we actually need from our partnership with our dogs is secondary to your ideology here.

Rescue dogs can be excellent emotional support animals, I'll agree there. Because as I said, they aren't service dogs and they don't need any especial training. They are still pets.

They most often cannot be service dogs. Even if they are young, temperament in dogs has a huge genetic component. Dogs that end up in rescues are not responsibly bred (a responsible good breeder will take any dog they produced back at any time, and stays as a secondary contact in the dog's microchip in case they do end up in a rescue somehow), and their unknown genetics not only can cause issues with their temperament and health that makes them unsuitable for work, but also often mean they are not a representative example of the breed and do not show the usual traits that make that breed successful at service work when bred reputably.

Adult temperament does not fully develop until a dog is +3 years old. This means you could do everything right with a young rescue dog, only for them to develop dog reactivity or aggression once they fully grow up.

It is simply not fair to ask every disabled person who needs a service dog to put years of their life into this process while stacking the cards against them like this.

Actual good responsible breeders absolutely exist. They do right by their dogs and work their asses off to bring healthy, sound dogs into this world. No one is talking about irresponsible breeders here.

All of their arguments recap into this:

"1) The animal was not specifically bred for purpose and is a rescued animal.

2) The animal must be treated as a companion rather than a worker, and as such must be properly retired with a loving family once they can no longer work.

3) Animals should not be placed under any stress or put in danger.

4) There should be no viable alternative for the use of service animals."

1) Again, they usually aren't specifically bred, certain lines have a few puppies from each litter that have service work as the best fit for them.

2) Of course they are companions. We're a team. Of course they deserve a happy loving retirement.

3) You cannot avoid all stressors, that's life. Low levels of stress to be overcome actually help dogs build their confidence. Obviously none of us want our dogs in any danger.

4) if you think the stipulations you've presented for service dogs are sufficient to fullfil disable people's needs, I'd love to know what you consider to be a 'viable alternative', because something tells me it ain't gonna be good either.

"An example of this might be a therapy dog who has come from a rescue center as a young dog, and would probably otherwise have been killed."

Most places do not have an overpopulation problem so big they're killing young dogs at rescues. The UK sure doesn't. Young dogs get adopted extremely fast.

Also, a therapy dog is NOT a service dog. You cannot keep using these terms interchangeably and expect me to take your opinion on service dogs seriously.

A therapy dog is simply a pet as well, with a general calm and friendly temperament, that volunteers with their owner to meet and cheer up people. It's a completely different thing with different standards. Many rescue dogs can indeed be excellent therapy dogs!

"We do not have to deny that animal use is exploitation in order to justify service animals in some scenarios. Yes, service animals are being taken advantage of"

Still would love to hear how exactly I'm taking advantage of my dog, or what the alternative 'living with a dog without taking advantage of them' looks like.

"We are seeing some advancements in robotics which look promising as a replacement for service animals, so this may become a non-issue in the not too distance future."

Imagine complaining we're the ones not treating service dogs as living individuals but thinking they can be fully replaced by robots. Amazing.

"Regardless of your viewpoint on this, no negative judgement should ever be placed upon the people who require the use of service animals in order to function, it is not their fault that this is the option that has been given to them, and no one who relies on a service animal should be made to feel bad because of it."

You can say this as much as you want, but it's absurd. You're 100% being extremely ableist and asking disabled people to do things in the most costly, effort and time consuming way to fit in with a morality position which is clearly been developed with no real accurate knowledge of service dog work or training.

Plenty of us have chosen this option with full understanding of what it means, it hasn't been 'given to us'. Don't go 'oh the poor disableds don't know any better tho' like it absolves you of all the shitty things you've just said about us and our dogs.

Anyway I said my piece. Have a cute pic of my dog Kovacs, assistance dog in training for my Autism and CPTSD, currently almost two years old and living his best puppy life. I had to stop writing this for a little while many times because he demanded pets.

[citynewsglobe]

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