#I am living away from my partner and cats for a few years so I got some Little Guys

[vintageandroid]

New friends! Meet Noodle, Queso, and Cookie. Cookie is the black rat with a white tummy; I am learning to tell Queso and Noodle apart. (Slightly different nose splodges. Queso's is bigger and paler than Noodle's.)

[somuchwatersoclosetohome]

ok so in another departure from scheduled programming, i'm going to do my big sappy post first before recounting yesterday's 2 final london shows!! and also have a soundtrack to this post bc as i said i was hURT by thinking about plodding on and now you all have to hurt with me

also HAHA you thought my last posts were long posts well you thought WRONG

✨ firstly, thank you 😊 i know i arrived out of nowhere on this fandom scene like, what... 6 weeks ago?! despite having been a fan of R&S for ages, i've only ever appreciated on my own and not been in 'fandom'... so although i have way fewer stories of interactions and i've never been to the BFI 😭, i've never been made to feel like a lesser fan or unworthy somehow, and it's not felt like anything is gatekept. it's only been finding lovely people who appreciate other lovely people making lovely things and everyone has been immediately so open and welcoming 🤗

🚪 when we were stood outside the number 9 door last night just feeling the weight of the last few months now being over, it really was like finding your people 🌟

🙏 i'm scared i'll miss people but i'll try - @vagueeyes for spending the best part of 24h with me and traipsing around covent garden before the show where we discussed CAT bag discourse at length, @donotbelasagne for being a viewing partner technically twice now, @silverview for bringing us all together as our stage door lucky charm, @spcvarney and @varneysfangs for letting me live your previous r experiences vicariously and for being generally lovely , @misskite for sharing your unfathomable amount of R&S content, and @wintersoulwitch for inspiring me to write anything on tumblr at all without immediately dismissing it in my head as garbage. i hope i made up for the Great Twickets War of 2025 through my official ticket dealership 🙇‍♀️

but also EVERYONE that has ever interacted with any of my posts and made me feel less insane and more understood... this goes for you all as well ❤️

🌸 i actually wrote R&S an enormously soppy letter earlier in the run which i gave to them on my second viewing (and yep you guessed it, it was steve that took my gift bag)... who knows if they actually read it, but in any case it was very cathartic to write!!

i included a quote from a raymond carver short story in it (i know at least steve knows carver, because he mentions So Much Water So Close To Home (oh wow, where else have i heard that.....) in the commentary for la couchette). i included it only because i thought it captured the experience of stage/fright, and so much else of what they've created, much better than i could - the suspension of everyone in the worlds that they've created, and especially for stage/fright, the magic of live theatre...

I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone's heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark. - What We Talk about When We Talk about Love

(it also gave me a thrill that about five lines before this, there's a line of dialogue in the story that is word for word - "I'll put out some cheese and crackers". 🤯)

💖 all to say that everything that we love or appreciate is often the passion project of a single person or couple of people. i am genuinely feeling a bit sad today but there is the tour to look forward to even though it feels AGES away..., but i've got a play/episode/screenplay that's sat in my writer's bottom drawer for nearly 10 years that maybe i can use the next 5 months to do something with. there's also a ton more posts i want to make about in9 and stage/fright and the experience of live theatre and fandom in general so hopefully they'll get written at some point too!! so thank you to R&S for getting me to the point of picking up a pen again 💜

9️⃣ what an era!! i feel so happy and lucky and privileged to have been a part of it 💕

[legionofpotatoes]

I had been floating through my apartment these past days suppressing every sense that blared alarms at the gaping hole in the middle of everything. Was pretending she was still snuggled up somewhere out of view. Finally processed it by cleaning up last night. Her toilet, her brushes, her little paw prints on the counter. This shit sucks fellas

I'll self soothe by pointlessly journaling again I guess!

I just don't know how to exist without her at home it feels like. After cremating her I stayed with my partner for a few days and then the first night back home was the emptiest I'd felt in my entire life. Dramatic!

why'd I just make a joke there? It did feel that way. Her smell was everywhere, her stuff was everywhere. Took so many photos of those faint paw prints. I move through the rooms like a ghost. I feel like I am floating because my body is rejecting every attempt at being present. Does this make sense? I don't want to focus on any one moment. Like rolling a boulder up an incline and the boulder is also punching me repeatedly because the boulder is reality itself that I am pushing away.

I am not good at grief and death. This is a lesson that I had to have beaten into me these past three years. I don't deal with it linearly, properly, healthily, or at all like an adult should, I think. I hate how much it shuts me down and turns me into a black hole of energy. Through the haze I can see myself being a nuisance to my loved ones sometimes but I have no heart to push through it. I feel like this is a pretty universal thing. Seen it happen from outside in.

they say grief isn't a finite thing but a process. And I can attest that it definitely transforms over time! But it's also additive? Everything else in life feels balanced in its give and take. But death only compounds. And I often feel like I am running out of places to store it in. It's like a game of tetris each time. Where does this terribly mangled piece fit into my psyche in a way that doesn't unravel everything? Oh it's nowhere? No worries just bolt it on there anyway and the aerodynamics of moving through life will smooth some of the edges eventually. Others not so much.

I have a deeper insecurity that pisses me off in this whole thing. A lot of my worldview and baseline beliefs rest - theoretically, it now seems - on a staunch respect and acceptance of what death is supposed to be. In the natural order I mean. Circle of life and all that. I feel like I look at so much loathsome reactionary sentiment around and trace it back to feelings of inadequacy, powerlessness, and on an even deeper level, a paralyzing fear of death. So, intellectually, my ego rages against it. I chase those themes in stories and philosophical theorems, I pay lip service to the ineffable value of mortality, I worship at the altar of transience, of change, of being a temporary perspective point of a universe that constantly expels and subsumes them to and fro. I like that framework of understanding life and death; I want to inhabit those beliefs. They feel right, primal, divine.

But then death touches my life and I have such idiotic trouble squaring what I feel with those beliefs. There's a lot of physiological trauma associated with it for sure - body recoils at the sudden shift in routines, absence of familiar patterns, lack of crucial stimuli. Maybe that's why? Feels almost like love is a resource I gently tap from multiple sources across the lives that surround me, for nourishment and fuel, and when an ore is lost there's no recourse. I cannot simply truck on and aggressively reallocate remaining channels to maintain bandwidth. Gotta grieve, gotta change somehow.

It's not for them, my partner tells me. And she's right. The cats are at peace, no longer in pain, no longer inhabiting their tiny perspectives of our greater whole. Everyone else too, all the loss I keep recirculating like a demented merry-go-round inside my head, they're okay now. In whatever context that can be defined in, however you spin it - their corporeal suffering is at a confident zero. Their essence, one could say, is in a far less entropic state, peacefully blanketing and guiding the flow instead of being confined to a confusing and traumatic flesh puppet caught in its currents. So yeah I know they don't need my tears, my head understands that, but I think there's something less personal in mourning all this.

Like with chichi specifically when I drill down to it it's the experiences. I collapsed on the floor and wept at the small hairs still visible on the brushing glove because the specificity of that ritual between this particular kitty and her dad, that small gesture of love, is forever lost. The kitty is at peace and her idiot companion will be fine with his drawings and video games, but the experiences that bound them cannot carry on unchanged. That's quite sad. Bodies and lives ending is normal, necessary, and kind. Relationships and experiences, however, were never a predestined vessel born out of stardust. They formed out of thin air, from that magnetic chemistry between unlikely cohorts. Seeing those end abruptly isn't as easy to chalk up to cosmic scales. It's fair to lag and glitch while your brain deals with the sudden loss of those calcified rituals. Maybe that is what's crossing my wires when reconciling personal loss with my highfalutin beliefs.

I sound like a loon. But mostly just reassuring myself that my grief is normal maybe and not as weird and childish as I try to make it seem. I know cats are idiots and pets in general represent a selfish type of unconditional love we like to cultivate, but it's also more than that. It's stupid to even assume otherwise. My favorite artwork of all time is, and don't punch too hard if you've heard this one before, brosio's two earthlings. And it is one hundred percent because of the name. Cause they're both the same thing. Separated not just by time, but biology, sapience, death itself. and yet they're still somehow the same exact thing. Like me and chichi were.

Different eyes and different brains watching and interpreting the same strange reality, and choosing to coalesce in that experience. I don't know how true it is that ancient felines domesticated themselves in order to live alongside people for a steadier supply of food, but there's something so whimsically sacred in that possibility. these utterly alien hairless beasts seem prone to throw food our way, so maybe we'll hitch a ride and see where it takes us.

I hope chichi had a good one with me. She was the sweetest, gentlest, kindest soul in the tiniest, fluffiest body. I knew her mom, was there for her birth, and watched her maintain that peculiar enjoyment of human contact even as she matured and went through her own challenges on the streets (I couldn't rescue her until after I moved into my own apartment). Nothing seemed to blunt her spirit, no expected pavlovian defensiveness or aggression manifested. one day I discovered she had a BB pellet embedded between her shoulder blades, skin already healed over the impact point, trapping the tiny bullet under her epidermis. the vets said it was okay to leave it in.

I hope whoever shot at her is living their worst life. but her response to me touching the pellet was to immediately plonk into my arms for a cuddle. that was her response to most things. she lived to love and be loved. she made pancakes all the time. it was her form of response prioritized even above meowing. she'd be asleep with her paws up and if I quietly whispered her name, her upwards beans would start gently curling and opening in mid-air before a single peep would leave her mouth. I kept her her nails untrimmed due to us living on a higher floor - better safe than sorry - so those kneads were felt keenly. today I would rip my arm off and eat it just to feel one of her paws digging into my knee again. but I like to think the clouds are extra cushiony in the sky since she went up there and started fluffing them up.

she had many litters, and after arriving into my home, she enjoyed a calm half a decade of retirement. eleven years isn't a long time for a cat, but I like to think it's more than most get in her predicament. we had to remove her teefs due to an infection, move to an all-soft-food diet, and take extra care not to run into that silly tongue hanging out as a result. I'm not sure if she would have lived more years or less without me swooping her into my arms, but I like to think it's the former. and that it was her own choices that made that possible.

I loved not just the warmth she spilled into my heart, but the very real being behind her eyes. the interior life of this impossibly small idiot who made it her life's mission to cuddle every living thing. I would sometimes look at her contended face squished against my thigh, gently vibrating from a deceptively strong purr drive, and I would wonder. just how can any form of life possibly hope to aspire to something more than this, something purer or kinder than a simple yearning for quiet togetherness. why greatness? why is goodness not enough?

chichi was very good. she made me better, too. she greeted death as she lived life, with dignity, calm, and relentless biscuits. I'll never forget cradling her head as we drove to the final vet appointment. I was in the left back seat, she was lying down in her bed on the right side, and her body was too weak to move. but her eyes were darting, inquisitive, curious. I lifted her noggin and gently cupped it from behind to guide her gaze upwards. dappled lights danced on the window as we approached the clinic, and I could see them reflect in her eyes like stars. we parked the car, and her side of the door opened.

right as she was about to get picked up for her final on-foot transit, I saw her squeeze out one last pancake. simply built different.

I love you pancake monster. I'll try to be okay and remember you fondly. I would say you'd hate the gauche etsy urn I picked out for your ashes, but you hated nothing. you contained only startdust and love.

I hope to feel you again sometime.

[bizzyboysbizzydays]

I'd love to hear some headcanons of your favorite characters!

FINALLY. AN EXCUSE TO GO FUCKING HAM IN MY OWN HOUSE

anon i am kissing you platonically on the cheek. Also these aren't sorted at all so it's just literally a random assortment of headcanons <3

The Bizzyboys all "break" into each others houses regularly. Capochin's house is the main one they all break into at random points, either because Alexei couldn't find a snack he wanted at home so he raids Capochin's fridge or because Bananathaniel wanted to watch a movie in a different environment. At first it annoyed the shit out of Capochin but now he's come to kind of. Appreciate it in a way. Especially after the events of the game where he's basically lost his only purpose in life. No time for self isolation and despair when there's a bunch of dumbasses in your house having an ice cream night.

Bauhauzzo has MASSIVE fatherly energy. I've been putting off writing romantic headcanons for him because I look at the guy and go "that's my dad". I think he's the main one new Gods go to for advice and help, due to his long lived status and memory retention. He remembers that embarrassing thing you did but it's ok because his fatherly vibes override everything else.

Post-game I think Hector would work as an apprentice Godpoke of sorts. He works under King as repentance and acts as a chore boy for the gods. Godpoke constantly checks up on him and makes sure that he's eating, staying hydrated, and ensuring he isn't trying to just rot away somewhere.

Godpoke is roommates with Patty post-game. They decide to officially move to the Grove after their vacation and Patty offers to let them stay while they search for another place to live. Whether or not they're dating Godpoke still ends up just. Permanently living with Patty.

Capochin does end up visiting Milldread and meeting Cobigail to apologize personally to her. He decides she's his new favorite god because she's hilarious and wasn't really SUPER upset or offended by the rumors. She actually thought it makes the pranks she pulls even funnier.

The Gods can have human disguises to walk among humans, the most frequent being King and Thespius. The ones who do this the least are Ms. Mitternacht and Huzzle Mug. Huzzle Mug just hates being so limited in it's form.

Hector has a shit ton of chronic pains from the rapid ageing process. It's extremely hard for him to balance rest days because if he rests for too long he gets the urge to self isolate and stop eating. Godpoke has taken it upon themselves to ensure he gets a proper balance of rest and work.

King becomes an unofficial therapist to most of the Grove. She has her work cut out for her with Capochin and Hector, though.

Vibiano gets a job as a fashion designer and often works with the cast of Oh Partner Mine, Bananathaniel becomes a scriptwriter and moves to Hobbyhoo, Alexei works part time with Godpoke and runs a food review blog (as well as a youtube channel where he does food challenges), Grujaja gets a job working with animals (his quiet demeanor and avoidance of eye contact is a HIT with the cats), and Patty works under King part time, with the other half of her time going to helping Lulu. Capochin fucks around for a while before eventually moving to Milldread and helping with the harvests. He still hates that fucking kid and the fact that everybody thinks he's that kid's uncle.

Post-game Bizzyboys host yearly reunion parties. There's karaoke and board games. Hector doesn't join the first few years but eventually does join when he feels like people won't throw rocks at him. Capochin manages to avoid it for a couple of years before the OG group break into his house and drag him to it. Capo ends up being a hit at karaoke and is practically bribed to keep singing.

Razzmatazz eventually leaves the Grove but visits every once in a while to catch up with King and Godpoke, he also puts aside some time to "torment" Capochin.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting upset at my best friend for calling me a hoarder in passing?

My (29NB) best friend (also 29NB) have been going through major crises lately at the same time—we will call them Sun. So, yesterday, they sent me a text, when we weee talking about how they haven’t wanted to be over at my house for a while, mostly bc they don’t like my partner…although the subject was in discussion bc my partner and I are splitting up, and I will be living alone again in a couple months. At some point in this discussion, they mentioned the more pressing matter that’s caused them not to be over as much is that they are very allergic to one of my cats—but only the one I just adopted a couple years ago, they’ve had no allergy issues w the other one and they love her very much, she is their niece.

However, at one point, they mentioned that a few years ago, when I was using drugs a lot more irresponsibly than usual—to the point where I got injured from falling down the stairs—they had been speaking to my other close friends. Which is appreciated, and I knew about this already obviously since there was an intervention that happened around that time…the way they mentioned this was upsetting. Specifically, they mentioned that “they approached [other friend of mine] about my drug use bc they thought I was becoming a hoarder” and that MAJORLY triggered me—specifically the hoarder comment. The woman who gave birth to me/raised me is a hoarder, which is a well known fact to just about anyone who is close to me irl, especially anyone who’s known her irl, and ESPECIALLY Sun, who worked as her caregiver for quite a while. Also being compared to/told I am just like my abusive egg donor is the thing that will hurt me the most, bc she is the most cruel, manipulative, abusive people I’ve ever had in my life.

So the thing is, my house is indeed very messy…I have too much junk around, and it’s very difficult for me physically to keep anything clean. It’s actually one of the reasons I’m separating from my partner, and as ashamed as I am about it, I understand. However, it’s not a hoarding disorder at all—I don’t hold onto anything I don’t need out of sentimentality, and if I could wave a magic wand and simply get rid of all the extra shit I don’t need/make everything nice and clean, I would. Unfortunately, I am very disabled with too many chronic pain/fatigue conditions, and actually cleaning the house/sorting through shit to get rid of takes immense physical effort. But whenever someone offers to help me, I jump at those opportunities! I take things to be donated all the time (if I’m able to sort through the stuff that needs to go) and it’s entire worlds different than my egg donor refusing to give up several bins of my baby clothes bc she can’t bear to part with them, despite them never seeing use in her possession ever again.

So, I responded to Sun’s mention of a past conversation thinking I’m a hoarder, with offense and saying it hurt me. We had been discussing just downsizing and how we will be going through my stuff as we pack for the new place, and had mentioned that I should make sure to get rid of certain clothing things if they have holes/are worn out/whatever, which to me, sounded like they think I have a hard time throwing clothes away even if they’re not even wearable anymore. With that and the hoarding accusation in mind, I told them I was very hurt by this. I made sure to be respectful and kind yet assertive, but after explaining how this was an unfair assumption/description of me, they got upset and said I should’ve asked for clarification before coming at them.

Now, do me, I wouldn’t have even considered they meant anything other than how I interpreted it, so it would never have even occurred to me to ask for clarification if I’m not even aware there’s a miscommunication. Apparently, the reason they mentioned getting rid of clothes that have been too worn out is an issue they have themselves, but this isn’t anything I was ever aware of, and once again never would’ve thought was referring to anyone but me. They also say they’re aware that it’s my physical difficulties that make cleaning physically painful for me…but honestly, that’s not anywhere near the same as having a hoarding disorder, which is indeed what they’d accused me of.

Of course, I know the both of us overreacted—me, being offended about being accused of being a hoarder (especially since my immense difficulty cleaning the house is part of why I’m separating from my partner and is therefore something I’m incredibly sensitive about right now) and them, being offended that I took what they said wrong and being upset over some things they didn’t actually intend w what they said…but I’m just not sure if maybe I AM in the wrong here, for expressing being hurt by being called a hoarder here, or if I really am making the entire thing a big deal out of nothing.

So, AITA for voicing my offense at being called a hoarder?

What are these acronyms?

[zeroseuniverse]

Cat Lover

WC: 852 Pairing: San x reader

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Honestly, if San was ever asked who he saw in his life in 5 years time he’d say his family first, they support and loved him throughout his life and got him to where he is today, then he’d say his friends, he doubted they’d let him escape their chaos even if he wanted to, Wooyoung would track him down anywhere. Third? His lover, his compassionate lover who cares more about him than anyone had ever expressed, all of his likes and dislikes were engraved in their brain, along with all of his ticks and habits. 

His love for cats was almost always noted, dates to cat cafes, feeding strays, cat plushies. Honestly their shared adoration for the animals was what made him fall for them. Especially when two injured kittens were brought into their home and nursed back to health with the gentlest of touches, given the most love they had probably ever felt in their lives. And so their family grew, two became three, all of the kittens having a disability that shattered San’s heart, but it was repaired as the two humans showered their babies in all of the love. 

That wasn’t the point of this story though, coming home to an empty house had him spooked, not even the sound of the cat's claws pattering across the floor was heard. He pulled out his phone in a panic, dialing his partner’s number quickly. Only to panic further when the call went to voicemail.

It wasn’t on purpose, they hadn’t  heard the phone ring over the sound of the pounding hammer, so when they were getting ready to go home and saw the calls they immediately called him back in a flurry of panic, was he okay?

“Sannie, are you okay?” they said immediately as the call got answered.

“Where are you?”

“I was working on something, are you okay?”

“You took the cats with you to work?”

“No, it was a personal project.”

“What project?”

“Well that isn’t something I can tell you yet.”

“Why?”

“It’s a surprise Sannie.”

“For what?”

“Just for you, I’ll show you this weekend, okay? I’m almost done.”

–

And so they did, that Saturday, the lovers were in the car by 8 AM, driving an hour away to get to their destination. San had been quiet since the call, anxious really, so the atmosphere was a bit odd, his eyes glancing down at his lover's hands often, watching them clench around the steering wheel or armrest tightly, their nerves obviously eating them up as well. 

After the awkward hour long ride the two arrived at a house making San confused, why would his surprise be in a house? They turned off the ignition and turned to face San who was looking at them in confusion, “My uncle passed, and since I was his closest relative besides his brother he left the property to me, along with some special guests to take care of. I’d like you to meet them.” was all they said before getting out of the car and walking up to the front door quickly, and as soon as he followed the two walked through the house and into the fenced in backyard, but that wasn’t what caught his attention of course, no it was the cozy shed that was once deteriorating  and decaying. It was rebuilt beautifully, the wood stained a golden brown and had multiple exit points far too small for a human.

“You did this?” San asked, confused, watching as his lover walked over to the human sized door and opened it, gesturing him to go in, and when he did? Man he swore he was in heaven. Cats were everywhere cuddled up or playing with some toys.

“My uncle fed strays so much they came to stay, he couldn’t provide much but they all fell in love with the shed, despite it being rundown, so I slowly changed it, avoiding abrupt changes that may spook them off, I had someone come to feed them since I couldn’t leave often without drawing much attention, but these were his babies, most of them came from bad pasts, were super skittish the first few times they had met me but they came around fast, I brought our three here after making sure they were all healthy and flea free, and they all immediately fell for them too.” They explained softly, watching their boyfriend’s eyes wander the area slowly in awe.

“You made them a home and took care of them all alone? Babe, I would've helped.”

“I know but you had work and I wanted to do this for him.”

“Okay, that’s okay. So what’s the plan? We can’t drive an hour everyday to get here and feed them.”

“Well your job is only 30 minutes away, and mine can be transferred to online, I was thinking we could move in here, it would be cheaper than where we live now, and there’s more space.”

It didn’t take too much convincing San was more than okay with this life, and with his lover? He’d be insane to want anything else.

[peppymintdreams]

What if Luca found out listener was a witch or something

what if the city of London try to kill them :000

I don’t know

I don’t know how that would turn out but I tried my best,

For the listener/reader I’ve been going in between using ___ or mc for their name so bare with me on this

Wicked

Luca Pearce x Witch Mc

A normal Sunday was what Mc had asked for. Luca and Mc had just gotten married and were on their honeymoon, but something was eating at Mc—something they should have told Luca years ago. They did not want this to be the moment he found out. As time went by, they dropped subtle hints every now and then, but Luca, being their husband, took it as a joke. Granted, they joked about many things, but this was serious.

So, they decided to just… straight up tell him. “Hey, L-Luca,” they started, feeling the weight of their confession. Everything about Luca was amazing—he himself was amazing. Luca turned around with a smile, “Yes? What is it, my lovely spouse?” His expression made Mc nervous. Usually, they were very stoic, trying to be unreadable to the public to hide who they truly were.

“Baby, I—” they paused, seeing Luca’s smile fade. “I have something to confess.” They took deep breaths. Since the dawn of time, witches have not been looked upon kindly by the public. Even though many would love to be these magical beings, there is always a small group dedicated to making others’ lives worse.

Luca set down the picture of him and Mc from their wedding that he had been holding. “Please don’t let this be—” Now he was getting nervous.

“NO, no, no! I do not want to separate, Luca, I promise,” they reassured him. This calmed him, leading him back to his normal calm demeanor.

“Okay, that is good to hear. I did not want it to end after getting this close to you. I cannot let you go,” he said, wrapping his arms around them. “I love you too much for you to be taken from me… no matter what or who you are, Mc, I love you… deeply.” His words echoed in their mind.

“Yeah… about that… I feel like I have not been completely honest about myself to you, Luca,” they admitted, placing their hands on his chest. Luca tilted his head like a curious kitten, looking down at them. He noticed they were holding the picture. How did they get it? It had been on the counter, and they were at least six feet away.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, glancing between the counter and Mc.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.” They lightly tossed the picture into the air, and as it slowly glided away, Luca’s eyes widened, both confused and flabbergasted. “How?!”

Mc backed up a few feet from him. Mocha, their cat, came in, happy and rubbing against Mc. Soon enough, she was in the air, gliding right into Mc’s arms. “I was nervous to tell you and worried about how you’d perceive me if I told you before or during our wedding,” Mc said, stroking Mocha.

Luca stared at Mocha, the cat now cradled in Mc’s arms, his expression a mixture of shock and awe. “You’re... a witch?” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. The sunlight streaming through the window danced around them, adding a surreal glow to the moment.

“Yeah, I know it sounds wild,” Mc said, their heart racing. “But I promise, I am still me. I just—”

Luca hugged them “no matter what you are mc you are still my perfect partner” Before they could finish, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed outside their cozy cabin. Mc’s eyes darted toward the window, and their stomach dropped. A group of townspeople had gathered, their faces twisted with anger and fear. They were brandishing firearms and pitchforks, a sight that sent a chill down Mc’s spine.

“Luca, we need to go. Now!” Mc urged; their voice urgent as they set Mocha down.

“What’s happening?” Luca asked, glancing out the window. His eyes widened in realization. “They’re coming for you, aren’t they?”

“It is not safe here. I should have told you sooner, but I did not think…” Mc’s voice trailed off, knowing the danger was real. The stigma of witchcraft had never truly faded, and now it was targeting them.

Just as Mc turned to grab their belongings, the door burst open, and townspeople poured in, their faces a mix of fear and fury. “Witch! We have found you!” one shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Mc.

“Luca, run!” Mc yelled, instinct kicking in. But before they could grab his hand, the crowd surged forward.

In the chaos, Mc felt a surge of magic rise within them. With a wave of their hand, they created a barrier, pushing back the townsfolk. “Get out!” they shouted, hoping to buy enough time.

Luca, however, would not leave them behind. “I’m not going anywhere without you!” he insisted, his eyes fierce.

Just then, Mocha, unfazed by the chaos, darted between the legs of the townspeople and leapt onto a nearby table, knocking over a candle that ignited a curtain. The fire spread quickly, adding to the panic.

“Follow me!” Mc called, guiding Luca toward the back door. They pushed through the crowd, using their magic to create small distractions—a flash of light here, a gust of wind there.

They burst through the back door and ran into the thick woods behind the cabin, the sounds of chaos fading behind them. The forest felt like a sanctuary, the trees shielding them from the madness of the town.

Once they were a safe distance away, Mc leaned against a tree, breathless. “I thought we’d be safe here,” they murmured, regret washing over them. “I should have told you before.”

Luca took their hands, his expression softening. “You are still you, Mc. And I love you, no matter what. We will figure this out together. Like I said to you when we got married, Me and you till the end together forever.” He said as the two intertwined their ring fingers.

Suddenly, a faint rustling caught their attention. From the shadows, a figure emerged—a fellow witch, cloaked and mysterious. “You two… come with me. The city is out for blood. I can help you escape.”

Mc hesitated, glancing at Luca. “Is this safe?”

“The only safe option is to get far away from here,” the figure urged. “Trust me.”

With a nod, Mc and Luca followed the witch deeper into the forest, the weight of their newfound reality settling in. As they moved through the trees, Mc felt a flicker of hope. They might be fugitives now, but they were together.

They were leaving behind the world they had created together their home and memories they had made.

After days of fleeing, Mc and Luca finally found a hidden glade deep within the forest away from the city of London away from the news and public. It was a secluded spot, surrounded by ancient trees, their thick canopies filtering sunlight into dappled patches on the forest floor. Here, they felt a sense of safety, a fleeting normalcy. They built a small shelter and lived quietly, sharing whispered dreams and stolen moments.

But one day, as Luca returned from a nearby city with supplies, an unsettling feeling settled in his gut. The path felt longer, the forest more oppressive, and he could not shake the sense that something was wrong. When he finally reached their glade, his heart sank.

The door to their makeshift home hung ajar, swaying slightly in the breeze. He pushed it open, dread pooling in his stomach. The interior was a wreck—furniture overturned, belongings scattered, and the air thick with a sense of violation. “Hey Babe…. I am back from the store, I got the candy you like…MC!” he called out, panic rising in his throat.

Silence answered.

His eyes darted around, searching for any sign of his spouse. On the ground, he spotted a crumpled piece of paper. Trembling, he picked it up and unfolded it. The note sent icy tendrils of fear creeping through him:

To the witch’s accomplice,

We have captured Mc. They are a threat to the safety of our city London, and we will not tolerate their existence. Authorities have taken them to conduct necessary experiments, and if you wish to see them again, you will cooperate. Know this: any attempts to rescue them will result in dire consequences. Mc will be euthanized if we deem it necessary.

Consider this your final warning, Mr. Pearce.

Luca’s hands shook as he read the note again, his mind racing. “No, no, no,” he muttered under his breath. The world around him blurred as the reality sank in—Mc was gone, taken by the very people who had tormented them. He felt a swell of anger rise within him, mixed with an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

He could not just stand there. Luca took a deep breath, trying to clear his racing thoughts. He needed a plan. The forest held secrets, and he knew it had its own magic. He could find allies among the other witches’ other friends, Andrew could be of help, but he would be risking Andrew’s life and that was something he did not want to do. He recalled the cloaked figure who had helped them escape—they could help him now.

Determined, Luca gathered his supplies and set out, retracing the path he had taken to reach their haven. Each step felt heavy with the weight of his fear for Mc. As he moved deeper into the woods, he whispered a silent promise: he would find them, no matter what it took.

Days passed, and Luca searched tirelessly, asking for help from anyone who would listen. Whispers of a hidden coven reached him, a group that opposed the town’s cruelty. He finally found them gathered in a clearing, their faces solemn yet fierce.

“I’m looking for Mc,” Luca pleaded, desperation lacing his words. “They’ve been taken, and I need your help to rescue them.”

One of the witches stepped forward, her eyes filled with compassion. “We have heard about the witch hunt. We will help you, but we must act quickly. The authorities are powerful and cruel.”

As they devised a plan, a flicker of hope ignited in Luca’s heart. He was not alone in this fight. Together, they would confront the dark forces that threatened Mc, and he vowed to bring them home, no matter the cost. The hidden coven worked tirelessly, and within days, they had a plan to infiltrate the facility where Mc was being held. Under the cover of night, Luca and several witches cloaked in shadows made their way to the imposing structure. The air was thick with tension as they approached the high walls topped with barbed wire.

Luca’s heart pounded in his chest. This was it. He could almost feel Mc’s presence, drawing him closer. With a wave of hands, the witches created a diversion, causing a series of lights to flicker erratically. Guards rushed to investigate, and Luca seized the moment, slipping through a side door and into the facility.

Inside, the cold concrete and harsh fluorescent lights were a stark contrast to the warmth of the forest. He navigated the maze of sterile hallways, guided only by his instinct and a desperate longing to find Mc. Each step felt heavier as he approached the heart of the facility.

Finally, he reached a heavy door marked “Containment.” Luca’s hands shook as he pushed it open, revealing a stark room with metal cells lining the walls. In the far corner, he spotted Mc, their figure slumped but unmistakable.

“Mc!” he called, rushing forward. Relief flooded through him as their eyes met, but it was quickly overshadowed by urgency. “Are you okay?”

Mc looked up, their eyes brightening despite their weakened state. “Luca! You should not be here.”

But before he could reach the cell, alarms blared, piercing through the air. A group of security guards appeared, their faces grim and determined. “Stop right there!” one shouted, raising a baton.

Luca felt panic clawing at him. “I’m not leaving you!” he shouted back, desperation pouring from his heart.

“Luca, listen!” Mc called urgently, their voice steady despite the chaos. “Remember our promise? ‘Me and you till the end, together forever.’ We can do this!”

Mc raised their hands, calling forth a brilliant light that enveloped the cell. The energy pulsed, and the bars began to tremble. Luca could feel the connection between them—a bond that transcended the barriers that held them apart.

Just as the guards lunged for him, Mc's spell faltered and unleashed a shockwave, causing the door to burst open. Luca dashed inside, and they embraced tightly, relief flooding through them. But their moment of connection was short-lived as security swarmed.

“Get away from them!” one guard yelled, grabbing Luca by the arms. “You’re under arrest!”

“No!” Mc shouted, struggling against the restraints that held them. “I won’t let you take them!” Luca cried out.

In that frantic moment, Mc focused their energy, whispering a spell that resonated deep within the walls of the facility. “Together!” they spoke,

Luca felt a rush of energy as Mc channeled their magic, the connection between them growing stronger. With one last push, the back wall of cell disintegrated, freeing Mc from their confines.

But in the chaos, security guards grabbed Luca, restraining him. “Let him go!” Mc cried, trying to break free, but it was too late. The guards overwhelmed him, pulling him back. “Go Mc be free” Luca called out struggling to free himself “No Luca… I wont leave without you” they said.

“If you leave, we’ll kill him now, if the witch is executed, we’d have no use for you!” one guard sneered, raising a baton.

Luca met Mc’s gaze one last time, and in that fleeting moment, they shared an unspoken promise: they would find a way back to each other. Go he mouthed as tears flowed down their eyes “No Luca I refuse to let you go” they said holding up their hands ready to cast any magic on anyone who came close to them making up their mind Mc casted a shockwave pushing all the facility workers back and gave Luca one last gaze before flying out of the building…free they were… free “I love you!” he shouted just as the guard knocked him out.

When Luca came to, he found himself lying in the grass outside the facility, the sky painted in twilight hues. Confused and disoriented, he pushed himself up, panic flooding back as he remembered what had happened.

“Mc!” he yelled, scrambling to his feet. The facility loomed ominously behind him, but there was no sign of his spouse. Heart pounding, he scanned the area, desperation clawing at him. “Where are you?”

As he stumbled away from the building, he felt a faint flicker of magic lingering in the air—a sign that Mc was still out there, and that their bond was unbroken. He had to find them, no matter what it took.

Determined, Luca took a deep breath and started walking into the encroaching darkness of the forest, fueled by love and an unyielding resolve to reunite with his spouse.

[f0xgl0v3]

Octavian headcanons :3

Another round of general Octavian headcanons, family edition! Would first like to state I’m not touching the legacy strands currently because stuff like Augustus Caesar and his demigod status in Pjo and all of that messes stuff up and I need more time to think about that and actually reading ToA and stuff.

Anyways, motivation for the Octavian post is to settle pre-audition jitters. Drama club beauty and the beast production, and auditions are tomorrow :,] gonna have to weasel my way through the singing part and hope my acting carries me the rest of the way through (in the words of Perseus Jackson; if I tried to sing I’m pretty sure it’d cause an avalanche.)

*Update because I’ve been writing this post for a day; we had dance auditions first! Pretty much just seeing where we are in dancing skills for this, it was really chill and fun and vibes were immaculate! Sorry this post is kind of ajifnsdb and I couldn’t get names down for these people, but I’d want to do that after figuring out.. naming work?

But ajdienajdjfneb whatever onto the headcannons!!

Big family, BIIIG family. In my head he has 8 other siblings (he is indeed the eighth child just for my amusement and it works for the little time before I work on how I think New Rome does naming, and I’m not touching that with a 39 and a half foot pole)

Old money family too. They’re descended from Emperors and they’ve managed to continue that legacy and have a family business, aware of Triumvirate holdings, may even have positive work relations.

Octavian is the 2nd youngest, in order his siblings go; 1st eldest, 2 kid, 3 child, 4&5 were twins, then 6,7,8,9. His poor mom has so many kids- but got solid breaks between them, though I don’t want to calculate ages at the moment.

Staring with his youngest sister. It’s Julia, that Julia. The one that’s Terminus’s little ‘assistant’. Octavian likes getting the opportunity to see her more often than most of his other siblings. She’s a little menace but gets away with it, nothing bad though, just mischievous.

Skipping Octavian we go to child 7. Who doesn’t have a name but just got out of the legion a few years ago, and moved out of the legion/New Rome. Bit of a rebel, but just wants to settle down with a family of their own and distance themselves from the family. They had a neutral-to negative relationship with Octavian. Octavian doesn’t like his siblings distance from Rome, and sibling likes Octavian but can’t help worry over him.

Kid 6 would be probably Gaius or something (again. Not about to go think too hard about what is gonna end up being Octavian’s Oc siblings. I can think about them later) he got out honorably after Mt.Tam, I like to think he’s still looking for a job and drifting in that University stage.

Kids 5&4 are twins, fraternal (maybe identical but I want more fraternal twins) and absolutely wild?? Jobs set up probably as something like loan sharks, they help upkeep the family fortune. Think like Ebenezer Scrooge or how Bob Marley are described in Christmas Carol. Taught Octavian everything they knew about blackmail, manipulation, etc. but they’re generally silly. Both usually try to charge people for various scams, think of the cartoonish dealer with the giant trench coat.

Child 3 has their own family and works for Bombillio’s (?) pretty comfortable with life. Fascinated with the mortal realm, slips on trips their parents take for business.

Child 2 and 1 have significantly branched off and live sort of anywhere, I feel like 1 is supervising that outpost in Canada (that’s another Hc I have that I talked about a LOOONG time ago) and then 2 probably lives out with their partner in San Fran and cats.

Okay a sorry I’m a little jittery because it is SNOWING!!!!! Where I am at least but still, SNOWING!! Sorry I couldn’t name anyone but still, wanted to get general family stuff down and writing posts like these calm me down when I’m feeling a bit aaaaaurgh.

Octavian has mostly good relationships with his siblings. Though he feels like he’s the only one really invested in being a citizen of New Rome and upholding the family name.

I’ll probably change around the siblings and their order whenever I decide how their ages work. But I feel they’re all relatively close in age and then Julia is just the odd one out.

His mother is a legacy from a newer family in New Rome, she’s pretty silly and generally just wants the best for her family.

His dad inherited the unnamed, unspecified family business/company and currently runs it, preserved his old crown awards and has them framed in his office, takes his family very seriously.

Okay, I’m working on the rankings research. It’s… a thing, but for now I might just make more of these random little hc posts, in between larger posts and passion stuff y’know?

Also maybe other fandoms? I’m still very much a Pjo person but I still wanna talk about other stuff lol,

Anyway here’s a quick Octavian thing I did, I’m still messing with his design, I feel like this might stick but I’ll still mess around with his hair, but I just wanted to add a little more to this post because it felt… pretty empty lol.

Also possible post on how some of the weapons characters have look? Would love to draw actual referenced things like IVILIS(? Don’t wanna go check but the Juno sword I think- Jason’s sword-) Reyna’s spear sword & dagger. Octavian’s Pilum & dagger, some hc stuff, maybe actual Camp Half-Blood stuff (because I wanna draw Backbiter)

Okay, I think I’m done now :3

[cadennnnnnnnn]

hello! my name is caden (he/him) and i decided to make this account to document my experiences as a queer and disabled person. i wanted to do this on tiktok, but as we all know, tiktok is going down. and anything meta is a shitshow, so here i am! here’s a bit about me:

-i’m 21 and in my first year of community college. i worked for a few years after high school before deciding to go back. my goal is to become a history teacher!

-i am bisexual and a transgender man. my pronouns are he/him. i realized i was trans at 12 and i was lucky enough to start t at 15 and had top surgery at 17. i am engaged to my partner, who is non-binary and uses he/they pronouns. we live together with my parents and have a cat named ophelia.

-i experience chronic joint pain and instability, hyper mobility, fatigue, and other symptoms that i’ve had since childhood. however, in the past year they have worsened to the point where i am physically disabled by them. i had to quit my job and now rely on a cane to get around. i am still undiagnosed and am hoping to use this account to document my journey of looking for answers and coping with life as a newly disabled man.

-i unfortunately had to leave a lot of my hobbies behind due to my pain. i used to love hiking, crochet, and playing guitar and drums, but due to my pain i am no longer able to enjoy them. now i put most of my time into my studies and play a lot of video games. my favorites are minecraft and the legend of zelda. i used to speedrun breath of the wild, but now my hands don't work well enough, haha. i still love speedrunning and watch lots of zelda speedrun content on youtube though! talk to me about zelda speedrunning! please!

- i live in upstate new york and i love traveling with my fiancé. i didn’t grow up in a family that traveled a lot so with him i’ve been to maine, vermont, connecticut, massachusetts and new jersey, and we drove to north carolina over the summer. we’re lucky enough to be a day trip away from all sorts of awesome places and put aside any spare money we have into visiting them. i like to fantasize about converting a school bus into a camper and traveling the country with him.

i hope to make friends on this platform and find community in other queer disabled folks! tell me about your pets, your hobbies, anything!

[oattoast]

cw vent, sick cat, mention of pet death. grief.

Greasy took a turn for the worse. We rushed to the vet again yesterday. She was straining and dripping bloody urine everywhere two days after finishing up a round of antibiotics. They tested her urine yesterday, and today told me over the phone that there's no bacteria. It could be caused by cancer, crystals, or stress (idiopathic cystitis or something like that). Unfortunately the urinary stress food has chicken in it, which she has an intolerance to, and I don't see any other options for food. It's hard enough to find a kidney food she can eat with no chicken.

On the week Greasy became sick, I was under an extreme amount of stress. I had two university system transfer applications due, final exams and papers, my childhood best friend hundreds of miles away was recently disabled and sick and now her husband is leaving her so I was trying to support from afar because she has little family support, my sister was going through abdominal pain and too traumatized to go to the doctor, my dad had some virtual proctored tests for his auto mechanic job licenses and had to use my computer and was techphobic and overwhelmed by it and being an ass, I was withdrawing from rexulti (a psych med that had been supporting my functioning for a year but had intolerable side effects), etc. I fear that if Greasy's illness is caused by stress, it is my fault because it was my own stress that she perceived and absorbed.

Today, Greasy ate maybe 15% of the food I served her. I fear she is nearing the end. Her body doesn't want to fight anymore. She struggles with the stress of subcutaneous fluids every other day, medications multiple times a day, and frequent vet visits. The vet noticed she was extra afraid yesterday. I think she is protesting. Her body is tired and she doesn't want to do this anymore.

I think back to September, when the vet gave her only a few weeks to live. On the car ride home I promised her I would never take her to the vet again. We did everything we could to keep her comfortable. And she got better instead. She stopped hiding under the bed. She started eating with gusto. She was herself again, loving and sweet. It was good. It was so, so good for two months. I felt like I stole her back from death. I was grateful for the extra time. I tried to be present every day and feel how lucky we were. I loved her.

Then two weeks ago I got stressed, and she got sick. I got greedy for more time. All of December I've just been dragging her to the vet for tests and more treatments when she gets sick. I want her to be comfortable. I want to avoid suffering. Am I doing that? Am I forcing her to stay alive with me now, under so much stress from fluids and medicines and especially vet visits? Am I being selfish? She went down from a healthy 9-10 pounds to just 5.95 pounds in the last couple of years. I can feel her ribs and the bumps of her spine. She is weak and anemic, which makes her cold. She just wants to cuddle and purr. She is very old. Eighteen years of being my constant companion and dearest friend. I don't experience romantic or sexual attraction, so I'll never have a partner in life. I'm in my thirties. My friends and family partnered off and have started their lives. Greasy has been my closest friend and family. She gives me physical affection. She gives me purpose and motivation to get up when I can't scrounge it up for myself. She is home, safety, comfort. And has been for 18 years. Am I blinded to her suffering because of how much I don't want to let her go?

We stopped the "just in case" antibiotic today and kept her on an opiate pain med, which has stopped all the urinary symptoms (a sign that this is not a UTI and is in fact stress related). I have 2 more days of the opiate. I will talk to her regular vet tomorrow to go over the blood work we took yesterday and make a solid treatment plan in depth. I am going to emphasize comfort care. Just pain medicine.

My dad asked me why I'm crying so much, when I already did my crying back in September when we got the first bad prognosis. He said I got these bonus months already. We got a good long time out of Greasy. I did my grieving.

I don't think I'll ever be done grieving her, long after she is gone. I didn't do all my crying. I never will do all my crying. I think I will grieve as long as I live, and that's okay. It's beautiful to have shared a life with this small precious creature so full of love and comfort and safety. It was so good to have 18 years of uncomplicated healthy constant companionship. This is a gift. The pain is only proportional to the love. Big love. Big loss. Big pain.

[sightofsea]

Hey, seinfeld break up cat anon here.

Turns out he did know we broke up all is good. We are living together indefinitely, it is something we talked about at lenght before. We were friends for 4 years before this and plan on keep being friends. When one of us starts dating again ig were gonna have to deal with it and the person is going to have to be very secure to not lose it completely.

That said he knows we broke up, he also knew we were together when, a week ago, he cheated on me, which I just discovered through a series of unlikely events. A bit less worried about reaaally protecting his feelings now that I know.

Ive been stuck with this guy that as a friend would die for me and as a boyfriend does not care if I live or die and I dont know how to navigate it. We are each others family, I paid his rent when his family kicked him out and he covered my part when I wasnt making ends meet, we know everything about each other, we love each other and make each other better. And as friends that really works. But then we cant pretend its not romantic and eventually, living a life together, we also cant ignore the sexual part. But when we lean into that he gets scared and avoidant and runs away and sets everything on fire.

You seem like a secure person. Is this a cutting the chord type situation? Do I have to let him go? This is going to sound like the most pretentious childish thing but we make each other better artists. I dont know how to say goodbye

okay so i'm going to say firstly that i have never been in a romantic relationship longer than 2 months so take everything i say with a grain of salt. i am also quite avoidant and not as secure as you'd think.

that being said, this is a very complicated situation i've seen before in different iterations. i do not envy you.

this is a situation that i'm going to request that you take a piece of paper and write down some questions for you to answer. the first and big one being: how much do you value your friendship with this person? keep romance and sex out of the equation, to the extent that you can. is having this person in your life making it better? what would your life look like if they were in it less, or not at all? is it worse, or just different? is it better, or just different?

if you feel excited by/are looking forward to who you could become without this person in your life, then i would say cut the chord. if even for a few months. you've been together for a good chunk of your life. give yourself time to be somebody outside of this person, and then reevaluate from there. you might want them back in your life as a friend. you might not.

if you really think this person adds to your life, and you are not willing to part with him, then obviously you will need to navigate some tough things. the infidelity, most of all. you are not romantic partners anymore, but you are still partners, and you will both need to navigate that issue in order to bring back some trust, i imagine. and you will have to weigh the possibility that you will always want to be getting closer while he, as you said, runs away and sets everything on fire when that happens. are you willing to deal with all of that?

not do you want to, because nobody really wants to, but is that a pain you are willing to take on to keep this person in your life? if so, what is that going to look like? what do you think he is willing to do to also keep you in his life? is he willing to meet you in the middle?

if the answers to the above seem fine and dandy to you, then i applaud you for navigating what is essentially the post-divorce friendship with grace. it's not easy being friends with people you have complicated histories with, but it is part of long lasting relationships and can be very rewarding. maybe you long be friends and make beautiful art together.

if not, then i would ask you to again consider distancing yourself and figuring out who are outside of this person for a little bit.

i hope this helps!

[goodbysunball]

Best of 2023

Toledo, OH, Dec. 30, 2023

It's going to take years to unpack the last few months of 2023. Whatever mental trauma is inflicted upon those removed from the situation in no way approximates the devastation and inhumanity occurring daily to millions. That the US is funding it all, and institutions and businesses domestically are punishing those who speak out about it, is sickening and terrifying. The latest Lulu's email newsletter wrote more eloquently about it all than I could, and plainly calls for empathy at the end: "Be good in a bad world."

And we do that, pretending things are normal for the sake of others, our kids, our partners. But things are not normal, and that pressure forces other changes, because while we can to some degree control what happens within our lives, there's no fix for seeing (let alone experiencing) dead, maimed children regularly on Instagram, victims of bombings without caution or consequence. A sense of powerlessness pervades. What we can do is keep talking, sharing and banding together. Being good in a bad world.

Some notes:

Lots more instrumental, or nearly instrumental, music than usual this year on my list, which tracks with the current climate. Music without words, or without discernible words, leaves space for thoughts to become untangled, sure; but a lot of what’s highlighted below felt more transcendent than meditative.

I still listen to rap quite a bit, but very few new songs I heard stuck around past a few days. Call it malaise from living in an era where every other song on the radio has a trap beat. Starlito dropped a clunker, which shouldn't have shocked me but did, and it personally felt significant. Maybe it’s indicative of the old guard’s demise, but hopefully it removes a wall and allows me to engage with newer rap music better. That being said: Veeze's Ganger was head and shoulders above everything else; billy woods' short verse on "As the Crow Flies" made me gasp the first time I heard it (and I also loved ELUCID's verse on "Baby Steps"); and I listened to The Jacka's The Jack Artist most of all.

Of all the books I read this year, two books by Fernanda Melchor, Hurricane Season and Paradais, stood out. Melchor’s prose is incredibly powerful, bleakly funny and vicious in equal measure. The sharp, frank assessments by characters in often ludicrous situations feel like a product of the contemporary but imbued with some ancient wisdom. Shout out to Julia S. for the new and notable South American literature tips.

In the midst of holiday/short day doldrums, amidst endless bleak news reports, it was difficult battling back cynicism to listen to anything, especially back to all of these records and tapes listed below. It ended up being oddly therapeutic, highly enjoyable and maybe necessary, the same as when I force myself out to shows when it's easier to stay home. That feeling chips away at the notion of this list-making exercise as futile, for me certainly, but hopefully also for you. Thank you for reading, and I hope you find something you like, too.

And so:

LP

Lewsberg, Out and About (12XU)

Equipment Pointed Ankh, From Inside the House (Bruit Direct Disques)

The Native Cats, The Way On Is the Way Off (Chapter Music)

Water Damage, 2 Songs (12XU)

VoidCeremony, Threads of Unknowing (20 Buck Spin)

Emily Robb, If I Am Misery Then Give Me Affection (Petty Bunco)

CIA Debutante, Down, Willow (Siltbreeze)

Olimpia Splendid, 2 (Fonal/Kraak)

Nusidm, The Last Temptation of Thrill (Bruit Direct Disques)

Incipientium, Underg​å​ng (Happiest Place)

Witness K, s/t (ever/never)

Leda, Neuter (Discreet Music)

12"/10"/7"/CS

Chrome Cell Torture, Laugh Then Lie 7" (Scarlet)

Joe Colley, Acting As If 10" (Substantia Innominata)

Disintegration, Time Moves For Me 12" (Feel It)

Life Expectancy, Decline CS (Iron Lung)

Gabi Losoncy, Lieutenant single-sided 12" (self-released)

Peg, We Know Who You Are and Everyone Is on the Lookout CS (No Rent)

Romance, Seven Inches of... 7" (self-released)

Sial, Sangkar 7" (La Vida Es Un Mus)

Slow Blink/Stomachache split CS (Hectare)

Howard Stelzer, oh calm down you're fine CS (No Rent)

Troth, Idle Easel 12" (Digital Regress)

Mark Van Fleet, Vordenal CS (Refulgent Sepulchre)

Stress Positions at the Pilot Light, Dec. 9, 2023

Shows

Bill Orcutt & Chris Corsano duo at Jackson Terminal, Knoxville, TN, April 1

Hell & My Wall at DRKMTTR, Nashville, TN, April 7

Cyberplasm, X-Harlow & FKA Ice at the Pilot Light, Knoxville, TN, May 18

Lewsberg at JJ's Bohemia, Chattanooga, TN, September 27

Stress Positions & Utopia at the Pilot Light, Knoxville, TN, December 9

Five songs favorably commented upon by my 3 y/o daughter*

*Something that happens so rarely that I try to take note when it does

Dua Lipa, "Levitating"

Martin Frawley, "Heart In Hand"

Mount Trout, "Hang Around"

Witness K, "In Knots"

The Young Senators, "Ringing Bells (Sweet Music) Part II"

[wisteriasymphony]

thinkin about heroes day bugbite

----------------

Catalyst's arms were bound behind her back by a string she couldn't break, no matter what she tried to use. She had to snap it with her hands, twist it until it tore, even attempted to bite it, but the string seemed to repair itself even before the damage was fully done. It was humiliating to know Gabriel was watching her struggle like a bunny in a bear trap, writhing as it considered gnawing a leg off just for a chance at survival. She wondered why Gabriel had even allowed for her to possibly get caught to begin with.

The massive figure in crimson pulled in the rope slowly, making it seem like Bugbite was dragging in a caught fish or a harpooned whale, a predator delighting in the ease of the catch, grinning through bloodied gums and yellow teeth. The blood in that case was one of Catalyst's few blows to Bugbite that was truly successful. But while kicking an opponent in the teeth would be enough to keel a man over... Bugbite was no mere man.

"You know the deal," Bugbite smiled, still towering over Catalyst even while kneeling down to get closer to her level. "So let's say we cut to the chase, hm?"

Catalyst tried to scoot away from Bugbite's grasp, but to no avail. She knew Hawkmoth could see and hear it all down to her own panicked breath, and yet nothing seemed to be coming for help! Not another akuma for reinforcement, not a swarm to be a distraction, not even Hawkmoth himself.

"You either tell me who you are, and I let you live. Or," they laughed, unholstering a knife from their belt. "I find out who you are anyways!"

Hawkmoth wasn't doing anything. He wasn't even speaking to Catalyst anymore. All these years, and Gabriel would just let her die?!

"You don't know that I'll detransform upon death!" Catalyst spat. "There'd be no reason to kill me, you'd gain nothing from it!"

The knife was raised, glinting in the harsh sunlight, and Bugbite smiled as if to answer that the killing was the reason in itself. Catalyst couldn't see the blade anymore, but she knew it was leveled diagonally above her head. One fell swoop, and she'd be dead in an instant at best. If Hawkmoth didn't care to save her now, would he care to save her if she was bleeding out from the head in a pile of rubble?

"You're right, I don't know!" Bugbite laughed. "...Do you?"

--

Pawltergiest had been busy doing his usual job of trying to evacuate the crowd; He was cataclysming the debris in the peoples' way and leading them into safe avenues and roads, all far enough away to both protect them from harm and from possibly seeing Bugbite 'strike' again. Something had felt off about this day, and he'd just assumed it was because he used to hate being a hero. But now, there was a tenuous balance between him and his partner, and people thought he was useful again. He was the 'good cop' to Bugbite's 'bad cop', in a way.

When he finally caught up to see how Bugbite was dealing with Catalyst..... Nathalie Sancoeur was being carried away, a crude letter "B" carved into the side of her stomach.

"And let that serve as a lesson to your employer," the bug had barked to Nathalie, "That the longer he tries to hide, the more of you will crawl back to him branded!"

Bugbite turned around, finding Pawltergiest entirely still and entirely silent.

"Well, another day's work," she had said, picking up her partner and letting him sit on one of her shoulders as per the usual routine. "How did it go for you, kitty-cat? You hurt at all? -Hell, what am I saying, you probably did great—"

"Claudia, I know her."

"Hm? The uh- Nathalie Sancoeur person? ...I mean, that's good that you recognize her, I suppose."

"No. I know her. She's my dad's secretary."

Bugbite stopped in her tracks. She'd tried hard over the past few days to close off her own emotions to make herself less susceptible; Claudia already had trouble even giving names to her feelings, so she had taken to it quite well.

But she knew what guilt felt like. Regret.

"Ah, look," Bugbite said, scooping Pawltergiest off her shoulder and holding him up. "You know I don't really mean it, kit. They get healed too in the end, y'know. And I, I just get a bit carried away here and there, it wasn't a personal thing."

----------------

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Would I (early 20s nb) be the asshole for "rushing"/taking over the responsibility my partner(early to mid 20s f) took to rehome a cat we adopted together?

🐉🐱 <- so I notice myself

Tw for cat death

I know this sounds terrible just from the title but please read the whole thing. I'm just so emotionally done at this point and it's getting dangerous for us. This is also long lmao and please don't post this to YouTube or TikTok, I don't wanna deal with it, even if I changed names and a few ages.

So I've been living with my partner and her family for almost 3 years. I moved 10 hrs away from my home state to live with her because my parents were abusive. We dated for about 2 years prior to me moving. My partners family are equally abusive just in different ways. My family had some verbal and emotional/mental abuse while her family has constantly threatened physical abuse and lots of mental and verbal abuse.

Either way, I was screwed but I'd rather at least be able to come home to the love of my life instead of only being able to text her. I should mention here that my partner works full time while I'm working to get on disability for mobility issues so I am with our cats every day. I bring a little income with commissions on my crafts but it's not enough to soully sustain us.

When I moved in, my partner had 2 cats, let's call them Salem and Vector. Salem was a 10 yr old male cat and Vector was 2 yr old male cat. About a year after I moved in, in the beginning of 2022, Salem died suddenly from kidney failure and we were devastated. Salem wasn't originally my partner's cat (she'd gotten him from a friend only a year prior to me moving in) but we still loved him deeply. He was the first pet I ever put down and I'll never forget my partner's sobbing. About 2 and ½ months later, we got a kitten, lets call him Arthur, a 3 month old male. We shouldn't have but my partner wanted one, I thought I was ready and Vector was very very lonely and depressed.

I named Arthur and Arthur was feisty from the very beginning but he was sweetish. I told my partner, in a panic late at night a week after getting him; that I wasn't ready for a new kitten, i regretted getting him, we werent bonding, etc etc and she told me to just relax and breathe and give it time so i did. I gave it a full year and a half and... I'm ashamed to say I still don't feel that love connection with him. It started out small; chewing and destroying wires, food aggression (not like he'd bite us if we went near his food, more just got very excited and would painfully climb us to get to our food or any food) and because he was so jumpy, he'd freak out over every sound and rip us up trying to jump off of us.

We got Arthur from a cat colony being watched over by my partner's coworkers however he was born indoors, spent the necessary time with Mom and was handled from day one so he wasn't feral. He'd wouldn't beat us up but anytime he got excited to play or get pet or get wet food or anything we got scarred. His destruction has just gotten worse the older he's gotten, hes very very loud all the time (we like vocal cats but he screams) and he's not affectionate at all. He's not mean but he's just not interested in any cuddling or pets or anything. I don't want a rug I have to feed and clean up shit after.

About 4 months later, we ended up with, let's call her Coral. Coral was another kitten, female this time, when she crawled up in my car. She was feral from the start but she quickly became very loving and cuddly and sweet. She still very much so is. I wanna say, although I never grew a particular fondness for Arthur like my partner has, I've never mistreated, abused or neglected Arthur in any way. I've never yelled at him or treated him differently from our other cats. He got the same cuddles and attention Coral and Vector get, the only difference is that Arthur is crated at night so he doesn't make us lose an eye from some hard zoomies or get into food or dangerous things when we can't watch him. He's out all day and is only crated from 12 pm to 7 am when my partner gets up and let's him out. He's got a bed, food and water, a few toys and a small litter box in his crate so he's covered and he can see us and his siblings the entire night so hes not have separation anxiety.

Now onto the hard part. I'm done with Arthur. Emotional and physically, I don't want Arthur anymore. I'm exhausted from being constantly ripped up and screamed at and having important things destroyed by Arthur the spider cat. No amount of clicker training or treats or sprays of water or redirections can stop him from ripping the room apart(said room is a small apartment, not a normal small room). He gets played with by us all the time and he's got 2 energetic siblings who play with him, we don't know why he acts this way. I could handle Arthur's antics for a bit longer if needed but 2 new issues have made me finally put my foot down about Arthur's further residence with us.

1. Arthur is constantly trying to dominate Coral to the point of hurting her and fur flying fights and scratches. It should be noted that all three cats were neutered/spayed the moment they were of age to do so so it's not a male cat thing. Arthur wants to be higher in the hierarchy but Coral won't take it and thus, some nasty screaming hissy cat fights. Almost very other time they are fine it's just when he gets humpy. There is also a near weekly occurrence of him not reading her " I don't want to play anymore" signals and fights ensue. I'm not gonna stand my cats hurting each other and Arthur is the constant instigator. He tries to fight with Vector too but gets put down immediately, he picks on Coral and not in a playful way. I'm not playing favorites because I love Coral and I'm not connected with Arthur, if Coral was aggressive, we'd take the issue just as seriously but Arthur is the aggressor and Coral is smaller and younger than him so she can't stand up for herself.

2. We need to get out of this house. Her family's abuse is worsening and they constantly joke about hurting our pets and their own pets (the pets have never seen each other, different floors of the house so Arthur's aggression has nothing to do with them). We could barely afford an apartment in the current housing crisis and can barely find ones that allow 1 cat, let alone 2. We have never and probably will never find one that allows 3. All this ignoring the fact we'd lose our deposit instantly from Arthur's destruction.

All in all, Arthur needs to go. I'm noticing myself getting more and more stressed and frustrated and short with a Arthur and he doesn't deserve to live with someone who doesn't love him. Even if he's treated no differently, I'm sure Arthur can tell and even if I feel justified in my lack of love for him, I know he's not trying to hurt us or destroy things maliciously. I'm not nor will ever hurt him but I'm just done with constantly flinching cause he jumped on the bed or dreading letting him out of the cage in the morning because it was so peaceful before then.

I told my partner about 8 months ago (June of 2023) that I was fully done with Arthur and if we ever wanted to leave here, he'd have to go. I told my partner I wanted to start this process in Sept and hopefully have him either rehome or in a no-kill shelter by the end of Oct. I know my partner gets very attached to her animals so that's why I gave her 3 months to process things and a month to rehome him. I was very gentle but stern about this because it would be what's best for him and best for us. My partner agreed but asked if she could do the rehoming and to not talk about it until Sept. I obliged.

Sept, as you can see, has long come and went and now it's Jan of 2024. I've been asking my partner about once a month about the rehoming process and how it's going with mixed results. She made a pet profile on a rehoming site but when I read the description, she didn't really "sell" him well aka mentioned every possible bad thing about him and didn't mention any positives. It felt like she was sabotaging it but I let it be. She showed me a list of 40 no-kill shelters in Dec but she had only checked off 4 of them. She promised me he'd be rehomed by the end of 2023 and he's still here and we are no closer to doing it.

I don't want to wait till the week we move out to rehome him, the stress of the move and changing of the household will be too much stress on us and on Coral and Vector. I don't wanna wait for kitten season to swing back around and we'll never find a place for him. I know it's hard for her but she's breaking a promise for a cat she's admitted herself she's starting to hate. I know rehoming is a process but it's not moving and I feel like my say on his continued residency is being disregarded. I'm not trying to rush my partner but she's broken a promise, it's been 8 months since she could start preparing for this and 5 since she's "started the process" she's dragging her feet intentionally.

So, my idea is that I'll take over the process. I'll offer to help and find the places and get things in order so we can get one less stressor in our lives and Arthur can live in a home with the attention and patience he deserves. I wanna ask her if she wants my help but I don't want her to feel rushed to do it and get upset with me for doing what she promised she would.

I feel like she's waiting for me to just give up and give in and let him stay but she's not the one who has to deal with him all day every day and we don't make enough to find a bougie apartment to take in 3 cats. He'd need to be rehomed even if we got attached because we can't take them all. So, would I be the asshole for taking over the rehoming process for a cat me and my partner no longer like because my partner is intentionally dragging her feet on it or am I justified?

(to note, my partner brought up the possibility that Arthur has a mental illness/possibly be inbred due to the cat colony situation or that we could get him professional training. The issue is we live in a very rural area without a lot of money, 1. We would not be able to afford any mental illness controlling medicine for the long term when we can barely afford our own meds and 2. Classes to train animals are very expensive and the places that could train Arthur are at least a 3 hour drive away. Its not feasible for us, especially when I don't have a license/might not be able to drive on my own due to my disability. If he was properly sheltered, they could get him that help/training or his new owners could afford to but we can't. We can't put him in a kill shelter for moralistic reasons either.)

What are these acronyms?

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

ough I am so sorry if your askbox is closed for the matchup thing, the pinned post says it’s open but the actual like, button, says it’s closed. So if it is just ignore this lmao.

ANYWAY my tavs name is Dmtryo and I’m gonna be submitting this for him :0

He’s a lolth drow, and a pretty ambivalent durge, he’s meant to be a bad person, but not a tried and true villain yk? Still saved the gate and allat but also fucked over isobel and got the slayer form bc he thought the prize might be cool.

Masc pref, poly or mono is fine!

Traits (bc most of them can’t be cleanly sorted into good and bad)

hugely protective of the things and people he likes. (Often to the point of excess.)

Seems like a shit show. Very well put together.

Often comes off as cold, but is far friendlier than people think. (As long as he doesn’t perceive you as a threat)

Will very happily murder anyone who does come across as a threat.

Brings his partner the severed limbs or bones of the creatures he has killed like some kind of fucked up cat

Violence is his go to solution for conflict but he is hesitant to kill innocents (unless he’s getting paid)

On the note of getting paid, there’s very little he won’t do for a pouch of gold and the promise of gore.

A/N: Hey, no prob! @cakeboxie (LOVE your blog handle btw lol) I just waited until the ask box reopened to answer this, lol. So now that the time has come… Let me see… Hmm. Because you specified you wanted a male match, I match your Tav with… Astarion!

🩸Astarion would be the perfect match for your Dmtryo! Astarion is pretty ambivalent himself- he’s certainly not a golden hero, but I couldn't exactly call him a villain either. He does possess a moral compass, but it’s broken, and often centered around what’s best for himself, which is one of the reasons I think he and Dmtryo would be good together. 

Astarion is fiercely protective of his things, and the people he finds himself coming to love. Everything he ever had was once taken away from him by Cazador, so anything he does manage to attain, be it physical objects or relationships, he feels he must guard intensely. Once Astarion falls for Dmtryo he is very protective, almost possessive over him. Realistically, Astarion knows that Dmtryo is his, but that doesn’t stop him from being suspicious of every NPC they talk to. I mean, who knows? What if they’d try and steal his love? He has to stay on guard. 

Although he’s not a drow himself, Astarion is no stranger to fleeing from the sunlight, and operating in the dark. He’s lived as a vampire spawn for two-hundred years after all. Although he may harbor some residual suspicions about lolth-sworn drow, so long as Dmtryo’s loyalty to Astarion and vice versa comes before their loyalty to any God, Astarion has no qualms about being partners with a lolth-sworn drow. 

I also loved how you described Dmytro as a fucked up cat because if any of the companions were to be compared to a cat, it’s Astarion. He’s sneaky, and secretive, and very persnickety when it comes to certain things. He also has a tendency to swat/claw anyone he perceives as dangerous, and being rather vulnerable, that means most people he meets end up on the other side of his blade. But the great thing is that it isn't a problem for Dmytro. Dismembering or murdering people, so long as it’s the right people, is just fine with him!

I can honestly see either Spawn!Astarion or Ascended!Astarion working out with Dmytro long term as well. Spawn!Astarion more so if your Dmytro chooses to try and fight the dark urge inside him, and Ascended!Astarion if Dmytro chooses to embrace his Bhalspawn heritage. 

Either way they end up a notorious power couple, one very few in Baldur’s Gate would dare to cross. 

Be it by taking on mercenary jobs or ruling as their respective godly selves, I see a very lucrative, very influential couplet taking charge of their future. ;) 

[lupismaris]

It's the final day of my 20s and I found myself answering, as expected, the question "how's it feel?" rather a lot, asked most by my older colleagues, especially when they realized this is technically a big milestone birthday

The trouble is it's not a milestone birthday for me in the same sense.

24 was a milestone, it was supposed to be a diagnosis, an omen, the tidings of the end.

25 was a milestone, the final bell, last call, the closing of the doors. I can remember standing in a freezing Times Square at midnight while bf ordered our pizza waiting for an act of god, hoping it would sound as loving as a bartender calling out the last round of the night or a mother switching on the porch light for wandering kids to come home.

26-29 weren't milestones so much as baffling confusing years left to my own devices waiting for the cosmic powers that be to realize they'd miscounted and the hunt would snatch me up at some point or another to set the scales right. Somewhere along the way I stopped thinking that and started thinking instead that I might as well make use of whatever time I'd manage to steal before someone notices. Then it shifted to "how does one build a life out of borrowed time, especially when life after 25 never existed as a possibility?"

Now 30 comes, and I'm being asked on the last day of my 20s, how I'm feeling, by people who were terrified of aging, terrified of losing that chapter of their lives, and I told them honestly, as un-depressingly as possible, that 30 feels a bit like coming up for air. I never thought I'd see it, but here it is and I'm waiting to breathe deep.

I swim a lot, whenever I can, the colder the water the better, and there's a moment when you've pushed too hard and held on too long and you see the surface above you with the light cresting and shimmering in the dark as your muscles seize and your lungs shudder under your ribs and you push for those last few inches until you break through for air, gasping, wrenching breathes without grace or dignity, reborn each time, raw and desperate and violently alive- only to do it again a few minutes later, joyfully.

That's what this feels like.

There's no running away this year, no fleeing as far from this makeshift home as possible. There's no self deprecation or deprivation or spreading ourselves too thin. Hell, I have a shrink appointment in twenty minutes, I'm asking for med refills and sleeping meds finally after fighting it for years. I have an ultrasound a week after Christmas. Nothing changes really. But I'm surrounded by people who showed up when I offered a place to come and be together, offered a meal and a bit of love. I have you all here in the void. I have enough to keep the cats fed and medication in the cabinet and food on the table. I have partners who love me even with the distance. Despite it all I'm happy, I think for the first time I am happy, debt, illness and all.

Here's to 30.

Here's to you, to me, to coming up for air.

And here's to the queers who can't envision life past 16, 18, 21, 25- we build our own lives. Sometimes it's entirely out of scraps. It will never look quite like you picture it. But there will hopefully come a moment, be it soft and subtle or a jazz band chorus, when you realize you are loved and the world lies at your feet. The smallest step makes it possible, even just waking up tomorrow counts.

I love you all so very much. Thank you for sticking with me the last decade 💕

Here's to 30 🥂

All my love xxoo

James Maren