#not like one of my current cats. bastard (affectionate) has realized what triggers me and will use that when displeased

[bobblestheninja]

There are some reasons you wouldn't want to muzzle a reactive dog though.

My Molly had a rough life before we got her, and was fear-aggressive with other dogs. We put in a ton of training with her, but even then the leashed/unleashed power dynamic was not one she did well with (luckily in our area not a lot of people let their dogs off leash)

However, we didn't use the muzzle as a preventative measure during walks, that's because we very quickly realized that it had a psychological effect on her (because of having to use it for the vets when she was having her joints checked for her arthritis, that she started having issues with pretty young.)

That's because the second the muzzle went on (so long as one of her people were nearby, or one of the vets/techs she knew, or one of her people physically handed the leash to the other person) she relaxed.

She was a Rhodisian Ridgeback/Lab mix, and wanted to keep her people safe. So the muzzle signaled to her that it was okay, we were doing the protecting for now. It was a signal that worked super well, especially once she developed diabetes and had to get insulin twice a day/get her sugars tested. Muzzle on, Molly relaxed, there was no issue with doing whatever medical thing that needed to be done. Muzzle meant humans were in control of her safety and wouldn't let anything bad happen to her.

However, using the muzzle for situations where we didn't know it was 100% safe for her and that we didn't have control over? That wasn't something we would do, because we didn't want some other person's dog attacking her when she was vulnerable and ruining her signal to relax and allow her ears to be medicated or to calm down so she can be poked. So no muzzle for walks, just the harness and strong leash so that she could be taken away from the situation, and carefully planning our trips. The harness allowed us to control her, especially when she got older, because even though she was a good 80 lbs she had hip dysplasia, and her hind legs were relatively weak. So even if she wouldn't sit (if a dog came by on leash we would go far to the side of the path, basically into the bush, and she would have to sit with no slack in the leash) then I could basically use the harness to lift her front end a little off the ground so she couldn't get the leverage to do anything even if she wanted to.

Now she wasn't going to bite people or anything, she was very calm with people, but we did know that it was a possibility if an unleashed dog came up to her. But because we could make sure she couldn't lunge, and our area didn't have off-leash dogs that often, we could keep the muzzle for unfun vet visits and keep it from being associated with being powerless and vulnerable, and keep it being more associated with being safe in an uncomfortable situation.

Everyone else talked about outdoor cats, it's time for me to talk about offleash dogs

[blackcatkita]

264 Days

A Storyscape: Titanic fanfic

Pairing- Charlie x Adele

Word Count- 3994

A/N- I have no business writing this but here we are.

Possible trigger warnings- Emotional trauma, loss, alcoholism and survivor’s guilt.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

January 3, 1913

Hileni ignored me when I told her we weren’t exchanging Christmas gifts and bought me this journal. I can’t scold her for it, I did get her a cat and I know she’s only trying to help. I think she thinks if I have somewhere to write my thoughts I’ll be able to move on; stop “avoiding life” as she puts it. But where do I even begin?

It’s been 264 days.

There are times I feel fine, more like myself, or how I used to be. I try to keep busy, working some fill-in hours at the shop and full time at my new job. It’s rewarding work, at an organization developed to aid survivors and immigrants find employment, housing, food…  I’ve only been there for 6 weeks. I hope I’m making a difference, even if it is small.

Some days I can’t believe almost 9 months have passed. The nights are the worst when Hileni has gone to bed and it’s quiet. I will shut my eyes and be back there; watching the stern dive into the water, panicked faces all around me, hear screams or the notes of ‘Nearer My God to Thee’ drifting through the open window. Reminders come during the day as well. For just a few seconds the floor will seem to pitch, the air turns cold against my skin and I can feel the frigid water around my ankles. But the nights… the nights are the worst.

Still, I count myself lucky. I’m alive. Hileni is alive. Zetta, Matteo, Lena, Sabine, heck, even James that bastard, they’re alive. And Charlie… Charlie is alive. By some miracle, everyone I care about survived the tragedy but there were so many that didn’t. So, so, many…

I know I mustn’t dwell on the lost. We have to live our lives. We have to move forward. Though some of us are doing better than others.

Zetta wasn’t kidding when she said if she stopped she would start thinking. She went from the release party straight to filming her next project. I’ve received a few letters from her, asking how I am and gushing about Richard and the wedding. It seems she has some affection for her fiancé after all and not a moment too soon. The wedding is but two weeks away and I’m excited to go, it will be nice to see everyone together again.

Matteo has been wonderful. He took a job as head concierge at a high-end hotel downtown and it suits him. He seems happier than he was working for James. The hotel keeps him busy but he visits when he can and insists on getting me out of the house. We go to dinner, often with Hileni but sometimes not. He helped us find the two-bedroom flat we’re currently living in; made possible by $500 in an anonymous envelope addressed to me that was left at our old place. I’m sure it was from James, who else would have sent it? I asked Matteo if he knew anything about it and he claimed he didn’t but he averted his gaze and shifted his feet like he does when he’s hiding something. I would bet it was him who slipped it under our door.

He wants more from me. He said as much. Told me he would be waiting if I ever decided to give us a chance. I wish he wouldn’t. He needs to find someone who will love him the way he deserves to be loved and that someone isn’t me. It would be easier if it was but my heart belongs to someone else.

My love. My Charlie.

Charlie… my heart aches when I’m near him and it aches when I’m away from him. Many would say I did the wrong thing that night in the boiler room. He decided to stay behind, to sacrifice himself and I took it away from him. I fully admit it was a selfish thing to do but because of what I did his sisters still have a brother, his mother still has a son. I won’t apologize for that. I won’t apologize for saving his life. Is that what he needs to hear?

Almost two weeks passed after we talked at Zetta’s premiere before I saw him again when he came into the shop to tell me the ship to Southampton he meant to steward on left the night before. He was packed and ready but when it came time to embark he couldn’t make himself get on. I asked if he was afraid and he said no, there wasn’t any rush, he was making good money and another ship was leaving in a few weeks. When he didn’t get on the next one, he said there must be something keeping him in America after all.

I allowed the hope I felt at the premiere to grow and since then we’ve been spending more and more time together. Often he’s there to walk me home after work, taking detours through the park or stopping for ice cream. We go to the pictures and he’s over for dinner at least twice a week, staying to talk for hours after Hileni goes to her room. There’s been glimpses of how we used to be, an affectionate look, fleeting touches, his hand in mine or a kiss on my cheek, yet he still holds himself back. Gone is the Charlie I fell in love with. The man with the sparkling eyes and warm smile that could light up the world. He’s broken, and I’m the one responsible.

He’s drinking too much, haunted by those we left behind. Several times he’s come here late at night, so drunk he can barely stand and saying the things I long to hear from him sober. I make up the couch and sit with him until he falls asleep and in the morning he’s gone, leaving behind a thank you note apologizing for the night before. Just once, I wish he’d stay. Then I would know he…

A knock on the flat’s door startles me and my pen falls from my fingers, rolling across the desk and coming to a stop at the base of the lighted lamp. I glance out my bedroom window and am surprised to see how high the moon is in the darkened sky. It’s later than I realized. The knock sounds again, louder this time. Given the hour, it has to be Charlie. The knowledge of it makes my stomach flutter and my heart race. Quickly, I stand and slip into my robe, carefully making my way through the unlit parlor before the noise wakes Hileni.

Another knock sounds as I slide the bolt and open the door. The reprimand I intended to give dies on my lips as I take in the two men standing in front of me; Matteo, face pinched in an annoyed expression, half holding up a grinning Charlie. A sigh escapes me as I step to the side, opening the door wider to let them in. “Help him to the couch please, Matteo.”

“I’m fine. I can walk by myself.” Charlie pulls away from Matteo, stumbling into me as he crosses the threshold. “Whoa there,” he chuckles as I steady him with my hands on his waist. Looking into my eyes, his expression changes into something wistful. “My beautiful girl… My Adal…” He reaches up with both hands, one cupping my cheek and the other playing with a tendril of my long hair. “Your hair is down. I love when your hair is down.”

“Aren’t you on the make tonight.” Gently, I take his hand from my cheek, loop my arm around his waist and begin leading him to the sofa. “Come on, you, sit down before you fall down.”

Charlie scoffs but doesn’t otherwise argue, leaning heavily on me as Matteo shuts the door and follows us in. I stumble, nearly pulled down with Charlie as he collapses onto the sofa with a heavy sigh, as though sitting lifted some of the weight from his shoulders.

Matteo turns on the lamp beside us as I stand, then looks at me, brow furrowed only slightly. “Some tea, perhaps?”

I nod, recognizing from his expression the question is not about tea but wanting to speak to me privately. Walking into the kitchen, I turn the light switch on the wall before hurrying to fill the kettle. Ignoring the heat of Matteo’s gaze on my back from where he stands in the doorway, I set the kettle on the stove and crouch down, lighting a match to ignite the wood inside.

“How long are you going to let this continue?”

“As long as it takes,” I answer, blowing out the match and shutting the firebox door. I don’t look at him as I stand and move to the cupboard, mumbling as I take out a tin of tea and three cups. “It’s my fault he’s like this.”

I hear Matteo sigh before he joins me at the counter. “I’m not staying.” Eyes locked on mine, he takes the teacup from my hand, his fingertips lingering against my skin before he puts it back in the cupboard. Clearing his throat, he scoops tea leaves into the two remaining cups. “You have to stop blaming yourself, Adele. You had your reasons for doing what you did.”

“But does he understand that?”

“He does,” Matteo nods. “Your Charlie’s demons…” he pauses, choosing his words. “they aren’t named Adal.”

I blink up at him, surprised to hear him pronounce my given name, the name Charlie calls me. I open my mouth to speak but the sound of water boiling draws my attention and I take the kettle from the stovetop, turning back to fill the cups. “How did you end up with him anyway?” I ask Matteo while I pour, returning the pot to the stove as he answers.

“He was waiting outside the hotel when I got off my shift, demanding to know what was going on between you and me.”

“He what?” Panic rises in me as I worry over why Charlie would think Matteo was anything more than a dear friend. As far as I am aware, I have never given him cause to think otherwise, but Matteo tends to resort to sass when challenged. “What did you tell him?”

There’s a sadness in his eyes as he answers, “That he is a fool who could have everything if he only saw what was right in front of him.” Closing his eyes, he lets out a slow breath and shakes his head. “I… I have to go. Goodnight, Adele.” With those words he strides out of the kitchen, leaving me speechless as I watch him walk away.

The opening and closing of the front door shakes me from my stupor and I turn off the light before taking our tea into the parlor. Hileni stands before me, looking at the door in confusion. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were up.”

“Is Matteo okay?” she asks, glancing between myself and Charlie where he sits on our sofa, head leaning against the back with his eyes closed. “He didn’t say a word, only nodded at me and left.”

I shrug in response.

“I brought Charlie’s bedding out.” Hileni continues, gesturing at a blanket and pillow on the armchair.

Feeling a pang in my chest, I step forward to place the cups on the coffee table so she can’t see my expression. Charlie has come here in this condition enough times she thinks of our extra bedding as his. My little sister shouldn’t have to deal with it but I can’t turn him away. “Thank you, habibti. I’m sorry for waking you up. For… all of this. I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “It’s Charlie. It’s fine, really.” Her lips twitch in a sad excuse for a smile before she heads back to her room, turning to look at me with a smirk on her face and her hand on the door. “Try not to keep me up, though.”

Shaking my head, I look up at the ceiling and fight back a smile. One of these days I’m going to remember how grown up and bold she’s become. “Go to bed!” I don’t even finish the sentence before she closes the door, giggling.

Letting out a sigh, I pick up the pillow and give it a fluff before slipping it between Charlie and the arm of the sofa. He doesn’t stir as I sit, facing him with my legs tucked beneath me and for a moment I watch his broad chest rise and fall with slow, steady breaths. My eyes trail up to his face, noting the differences between the man I met and the man before me now. In waking hours he looks tormented, older than his twenty-five years. His cheeks hollowed from weight loss, his eyes, dull and tired and a visible furrow between his brows more often than not. But in his sleep, he looks young again, peaceful and untroubled, more like the man he used to be. His hair has come loose from his usual smart style and I reach out, unable to stop myself from brushing it off his forehead.

A low hum of satisfaction sounds when my fingers caress his skin and with his eyes closed, he takes my hand, bringing it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“Lie down, Charlie. You’ll get a neck ache if you sleep like that.”

“I’m not sleeping.” He drops our joined hands between us and turns to look at me, his glazed eyes pleading as he looks into mine. “Sit with me. Just for a little while. Please.”

“Alright, just for a little while,” I agree. “I made tea but if you’re hungry I can get you something to eat.”

“Always taking care of me…” His lips slowly curl into a soft smile as he shakes his head. “I’m not hungry but, thank you.” The joy in his eyes is brief and slips away as he studies my face, replaced with something I can’t identify. Is it sadness? Longing? Desire? My breath catches in my lungs as he leans forward, brushing his fingertips across my cheek to stop me from turning away. His gaze drops to where he’s trailing his thumb across my bottom lip and when he speaks, his voice is thick with want. “Can I kiss you?”

I should say no. I should tell him he’s drunk and not thinking clearly. I should protect my heart. But as his warm brown eyes meet mine I know there is no protecting it, for it belongs to him. How I’ve longed to feel his soft lips upon mine again, to feel his heart beating in his chest as he held me in his arms, safe and warm. I should say no… I should say no, but my voice is breathless when I tell him, “Yes.”

His other hand comes up, joining the first to frame my face. He leans in further still, tilting his head as our eyes slide shut. The kiss is soft and hesitant, almost reverent as his lips brush against mine. He draws in a shaky breath, my name a whisper against my lips as he threads his fingers through my hair and cups the back of my neck. Wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me tighter to him, his lips part, groaning into my mouth as our tongues meet.

“Charlie,” I moan, looping my arms around his neck, both of us poring every ounce of heartache we’ve felt into the kiss until it turns desperate. “I love you.” His hands shake as he loosens his grip and breaks the kiss, pulling away only far enough to rest his forehead on mine. “I love you,” I tell him again, pressing another kiss to his trembling lips. His breath turns ragged and as I tell him I love him one more time, I’m not sure if the moisture on my cheeks is his or mine.

“I…” his voice hitches and he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. I pull back, opening my eyes to find him already watching me with tears running down his face. “Adal, I…” The look he gives me is full of pain, his expression one of sadness and desperation, but also love. Even if he can’t say the words the eyes don’t lie. He may be lost, he may need more time, but he loves me, and he’s never stopped.

“Shh… I know, it’s okay.” Tears of my own fall as I kiss and brush his away but they don’t stop and I gather him into my arms instead. Sliding his arms around my waist, he buries his face in the crook of my neck and begins to sob, clinging to me like I’m the very air he needs to breathe. “It’s okay, Charlie. Everything’s going to be okay.” I reassure him over and over, rubbing his back as the sobs wrack his body.

I don’t know how much time has passed when Charlie finally pulls away and sits forward, sniffling as he drags his forearm across his cheeks. He stares straight ahead, at a window reflecting the room around us then turns to look at me. Our eyes lock and he quickly looks away, picking up his cup of tea and taking three large gulps before setting it back down.

“We should get some sleep,” I tell him, using the cuff of my robe to dry my eyes. He nods silently in response, bending down to take off his shoes as I stand to get the blanket from the chair. Stretching out on his back, he closes his eyes as I cover him. “Charlie… you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Drinking this much… it isn’t you.”

There is no joy in the laugh he huffs out. “I don’t know what ‘me’ means anymore.”

I don’t respond. How can I when I wonder the same thing about myself? I bend down to kiss his cheek and he turns his head at the last second, making my lips press against his. The kiss is chaste, nothing more than a quick peck but my heart flutters none the less. Still not knowing what to say, I place another kiss to his forehead before turning off the lamp and heading to my room, only making it a few feet when I hear him speak.

“We left them behind… all those people.” His voice is quiet in the darkness. I can barely make out his profile from the moonlight shining through the window, laying there with his arm draped across his eyes. “John, the rest of the crew, the families in steerage… men, women, children, people that had families waiting for them… I knew them, Adal, and we left them behind.”

“I know, Charlie.” My throat tightens but my eyes stay dry. I don’t think I have any tears left. “But we lived… we lived.”

His breathing deepens so quickly I wonder if he even heard me, like his confession used the last of his energy and I slip quietly into my room. I take off my robe, sling it over the chair at my desk and turn off the lamp before crawling under the covers. Emotionally and physically exhausted, I begin drifting off to sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, the feel of Charlies kiss still tingling on my lips.

I wake as the sun hits my face and slowly open my swollen eyes, turning away from the harsh glare coming through the window. I feel as though I hardly slept at all and goodness, I’m thirsty. And hungry, I realize as the scent of bacon hits my nose. Stretching my arms above my head, I let out a deep, satisfying yawn and swing my feet to the floor. I tie my hair back with a ribbon from the nightstand and get up, dreading what is waiting for me on the other side of the door. The couch will be empty, the blanket and pillow stacked neatly on the chair with a note on top; and Hileni in the kitchen, making me breakfast in an attempt to cheer me up while giving me sympathetic looks and asking questions I don’t have the answers to. It’s always the same but I can’t hide in here forever.

Taking a deep breath I walk into the parlor and my eyes automatically look to the couch, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he’d still be there. He isn’t, and neither is the bedding he used last night. Hileni’s large male cat, Earl Grey, aptly named for his color and his love of the beverage is happily slurping up the remains of our tea. He looks up at me with his big blue eyes, tongue running along his mouth to get every last drop. “Shoo,” I scold, waving my hand. He ignores me, dipping his face back into the cup and I step forward to coax him off the table. “Shoo, you beast!”

Hileni’s laughter floats out of the kitchen and I wonder she’s talking to when I hear her say, “You’re doing it all wrong! You’re going to burn it like that!”

Then I hear him laugh, and my heart stops beating.

“If you’ll remember I was the one who put together a picnic for you and your cabinmates, Hileni, I’ve got this.”

“Oh, please,” Hileni snorts. “You didn’t cook any of that. You stole it from the kitchens.”

“Well, that is true,” he laughs again, untroubled and carefree. “But I do know how to cook bacon so let me work.”

I’m dreaming, I must be. Rooted to the spot, I turn to look into my bedroom, convinced I’ll see myself still sleeping but all I see is the bed I have yet to make. I pinch myself. Nothing happens, though I’m not sure what the act is supposed to accomplish either way. Finally convinced I am awake and Charlie is here, butterflies take flight in my stomach. I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart and blink back the happy tears that have sprung in my eyes as I enter the kitchen. “What’s all this?” I ask, taking in the room. Hileni is by the pantry, reaching for something on her tip-toes and Charlie stands at the stove, transferring bacon from a cast iron skillet to a plate, like this is an everyday occurrence.

He turns at the sound of my voice and the smile he gives me lights up the room. “Damn, it was supposed to be breakfast in bed.”

“I told you bacon would get her up.” Rolling her eyes, Hileni sets a jar of maple syrup on the table. “He doesn’t listen that one.”

“I’ll remember it for next time,” Charlie chuckles, adding the plate of bacon to the table. With a gentle hand on my lower back, he pulls out a chair for me. “Sit, Adal, it’ll be ready in just a minute.”

Through narrowed eyes I watch the picture of domesticity taking place around me; Hileni bringing milk and coffee to the table, Charlie taking pancakes out of the oven where they were being kept warm. I pinch myself again, and when Hileni asks what I’m doing I tell her nothing, which only makes her laugh as she sits down and gives me a knowing look.

As happy as I am he stayed, a sliver of doubt remains this side of him won’t last. Reality will set in and he will hold me at arms-length once again. Then our eyes meet across the table and I see the familiar gleam I haven’t seen since the night of Zetta’s birthday party. The night we kissed under the stars before our world was turned upside down and I know what I said last night is true- Everything’s going to be okay.