#he's got a vet appointment soon

[xskyll]

[meatsound]

still talking about my cat he was so good today. thats a lie he was a fucking monster to everyone to the point that they gave me him back early. but he was soooooooo good for me and me alone. just like every other aspect of his life

[raeathnos]

.

[kawaiianimeredhead]

Ughhh

[copper-16]

You Can Do This

Mapi for the life of her, cannot find Bagheera. The cat is in a place where the Spaniard and Norwegian least expect her to be.

(a/n: this is a mix between fluff and just a little bit of angst that is easily soothed. This is kind of introducing a theme about Mapi's specific struggles with becoming a parent, that is a topic I want to talk about and explore more in future stories about these three. Also, wanted to write some Bagheera/Elena content for @acornsquish, ofc :)

Mapi really, really hated waking up her wife when she did not need to. 

Ingrid was notoriously grumpy in the mornings, especially before she had her coffee, so the thought of getting the Norwegian up and knowing that she would likely be annoyed with Mapi for the rest of the day was not an enticing thought for the brunette. 

But the Spaniard also didn’t know what to do, because for the life of her she cannot find Bagheera anywhere. 

Mapi prided herself on knowing the cat well. She had been here before Ingrid, before Elena, and she had been the Spaniard’s ever since she was just a tiny kitten. The defender loved the cat with her life, and she was sure that she knew her well enough to know all of her hiding spots. 

The nook behind their kitchen table, behind the big armchair in the living room, under the TV in their bedroom. 

So when Mapi got up this morning to take Bagheera to the vet and hadn’t been able to find her, she had checked all of those hiding spots first. She was sure that the cat was somewhere in one of those, simply hiding from the crying from Elena that would start up soon enough when she awoke. 

The poor cat tolerated the baby, but she wasn’t exactly a huge fan of her either. Mapi and Ingrid were careful to keep the two relatively separated, not wanting Elena to accidentally pull at Bagheera’s tail or something like that. 

And for the most part, the cat stayed away without having to be told. She wasn’t a huge baby person, evidently, and Mapi couldn’t really blame her. She hadn’t exactly been bringing a bunch of babies home in the past, to be fair. 

But Elena wasn’t leaving, and neither was Bagheera, so the two learned to coexist peacefully, away from one another. 

Bagheera wasn’t in her cat tower, or in the nook behind the kitchen table, or by the armchair, or their bedroom. In fact, Mapi couldn’t begin to find the cat in the whole damn apartment. 

As the time of the cat’s vet appointment drew nearer, Mapi finally broke down, deciding that she needed to wake Ingrid up to help her look. 

“Ingrid, Ingrid!” Mapi whispered harshly, slightly shaking the Norwegian’s leg from her spot at the foot of the bed. 

“Mmm, go back to sleep Maria,” Ingrid mumbled sleepily, turning back into her pillow. Mapi swallowed thickly, looking around as though the cat would suddenly appear, and then squeezing her wife’s leg harder when she didn’t. 

“Ingrid!” She tried again, and apparently her voice was panicked enough that she got the dark haired woman up, the Norwegian blinking several times before looking up at her wife, who appeared more than a little frazzled. 

“What? Is something wrong?” Ingrid was suddenly very awake, wondering if there was something amiss with the baby. The next words out of her wife’s mouth are not, however, what she expects, given how panicked the Spaniard is.  

“The cat is missing!” Mapi hissed, and the dark haired woman’s whole face scrunched in confusion. 

“The cat is what?” Ingrid repeats, her words slightly slow as she struggles to follow the brunettes train of thought. 

“The cat is missing!” Mapi echoes, looking around again. 

“Mapi, she’s a cat. She’s not missing, she’s somewhere in this apartment,” Ingrid reasoned with far too much sureness for someone who wasn’t abreast of the current situation. 

“No, I’m telling you! I’ve looked in all of her usual spots, and she’s not anywhere! You need to help me look, I have to take her to the vet,” Mapi insisted, not waiting for Ingrid’s answer before she walked out of their room, her steps hurried but quiet, well aware that their six month old baby was still very much asleep. 

Ingrid let out a heavy sigh before she slipped out of bed, running a comb through her hair and brushing her teeth before she joined her wife in her quest to find their cat. 

Together, the two Barcelona players scoured the living room and kitchen, trying to find the black cat. When they didn’t find her there, they moved into the dining room, and then their bedroom. It was Ingrid who finally decided that they would check the one place that they were sure Bagheera wouldn’t be in. 

Elena’s room. 

The baby was six months old, and entirely the light of their lives. 

Bagheera’s life? Not so much. 

But Ingrid drags her wife down the hallway, despite the Spaniard’s insistence that there is no way Bagheera would be caught dead in there. 

The Norwegian pays her no mind, pushing the door open and walking into the room. She looks around, at the changing table, the rocking chair they have in her room, in the closet. 

But it’s Mapi who finds the cat first, her jaw flopping open in shock. 

“Ingrid,” she whispers urgently, moving toward the crib. And sure enough, there was Elena sleeping peacefully, with Bagheera wrapped around her. The black cat looks completely content and happy, more than willing to just sleep with the baby. Elena’s little fist is resting on the cat’s belly, and her face is turned toward Bagheera, even in sleep. 

The entire cat’s body is curled around their baby, her body wrapped around the baby’s head, her head laid gently on the mattress. 

Even the cat’s tail is laid over the baby’s body, resting lightly against her little belly. It’s the cutest thing Mapi’s ever seen in her entire life, and she quickly takes her phone out to snap a picture as Ingrid joins her at the crib side. 

“Who knew,” Ingrid hums softly, her voice affectionate at the sight in front of her. The two appeared entirely enraptured with one another, and Mapi felt bad about disrupting their peace. 

“I should take Bagheera, her appointment is in a bit and I don’t want us to miss it,” Mapi said forlornly, but she reached down to grab the black cat regardless, knowing that they really did need to go to the appointment. 

Bagheera limply allowed herself to be lifted, her eyes opening as her owner lifted her from the crib she had been occupying. She allowed herself to be maneuvered with little fuss, but the disruption was less than ideal for Elena, apparently. 

The baby began to fuss almost immediately, missing the comforting presence of the cat that had come to be a common presence in her crib at night, unbeknownst to her mothers. The little baby reached out for the cat instantly, looking for fur and warmth. Mapi placed the cat on the ground before she returned to the baby, her face knitted in concern at the clear unhappiness on her daughter's face. 

The Spaniard looked over at her wife with big, worried eyes. She made no move to reach for Elena, despite the fact that she was now crying. 

“Ingrid,” she prompted, looking down at the baby with an expression akin to fear. The Norwegian softened, knowing why Mapi was so concerned. 

Ingrid had been the one to deliver her, and subsequently the one who stayed home with Elena the first few months of her life. Becoming a mother had been natural to Ingrid, and she was quite good at it. She knew how to soothe, and swaddle, she had since she was a young girl. The Norwegian had slipped into the role of mother seamlessly, unlike Mapi. 

The Spaniard had not grown up around babies at all, really. It wasn’t something she was accustomed to or used to, and Elena was practically the first baby she had ever handled, apart from the odd ten minutes when she had been passed a baby who belonged to a distant relative at a family reunion or wedding. 

Throughout Ingrid’s pregnancy, Mapi had spent more than her fair share of fretting about what her relationship with her daughter would look like. Would she be close to her, would she come to understand what her baby needed, would they bond. She wasn’t the one to carry her child, but that didn’t make her love Elena any less, right? It didn’t make her any less hers, did it? 

“You are her mother too, Mapi,” Ingrid reminded the center back, not because she was chastising her, but because sometimes those were the words the defender needed to hear. 

She was ashamed to admit it, but it had been six months and she still wasn’t sure that she felt connected with her baby. When Elena cried she didn’t know what to do like Ingrid did, she just panicked. The baby didn’t look like her, or feel like hers. She saw so much of Ingrid in her daughter, and she loved that very fact, but she also ached to feel close to her. It felt like she was playing pretend, like she was a fraud. 

But she wasn’t, and Ingrid was always there to remind her of that fact. 

“I am going to get changed and take Bagheera to the vet. Why don’t you spend some time with her this morning?” Ingrid suggested, noting the panic that immediately flashed across her wifes face. She placed a comforting hand on Mapi’s shoulder, her words sure as she spoke once again. 

“You can do this Mapi. She is a baby, not a nuclear bomb. Hold her, check her diaper, feed her and snuggle with her. I know you know how to do that, and you can do this. I believe in you,” Ingrid promised and it took her a moment but Mapi nodded eventually, her face still a little worried, but holding more confidence now after the pep talk from her wife. 

The center back went to get a bottle prepared while Ingrid changed, getting Bagheera into her carrier before she returned to the kitchen, back to her wife. 

“If anything goes really wrong, you can always call me,” the Norwegian soothed, kissing the Spaniard sweetly before she slipped out the door with their cat, leaving Mapi alone with their daughter. 

With renewed determination, the brunette went back into Elena’s room. She quickly changed the baby’s diaper before giving her a bottle. But even after that, and being burped, the little baby was still fussy. 

Mapi bounced her gently, unsure of what to do. The baby just wouldn’t settle, and she found herself beginning to panic, not knowing what the next step was in trying to calm her. 

“Okay, what would Ingrid do? What would your Mama do, mi sol?” Mapi asks the little baby, receiving nothing but a noise that was somewhere between a whimper and a cry. She holds Elena tightly to herself, feeling on the verge of tears, the overwhelming feeling in her gut being one of failure. 

This was her daughter, and she could not make her feel better? Could she not soothe her own child? 

She felt like a rotten parent. The brunette looks down at the little baby, at the tear tracks that run down her cheeks, at the wetness of her little eyes as she stares up at the defender. She feels a renewed sense of determination to make the baby feel better. It hurt her heart to see her upset, and she wouldn’t stop trying to make her happier until she had exhausted all of her options. 

“Come on,” Mapi decides, walking out of Elena’s room and back into her own, sitting down on the large bed. She carefully places Elena on her back on the bed, ignoring the shrill shriek that she receives in response, in favor of first stripping her own shirt, and then her daughter out of her little onesie. 

Mapi lays back against the bed, sitting up against the headboard. She settles Elena on her chest, and is genuinely shocked by the speed at which the little baby settles, melting into her mother as her cries subside almost instantly. The baby's body is warm against her own, and her little limbs relax until she is completely limp and cuddled against the Spaniard. 

The brunette brings her hand up to rub soothingly over the baby's back, and Elena lets out a relieved puff of air at the feeling. Mapi feels herself exhale a breath she hadn’t realized that she was holding as her daughter snuggled into her. 

Elena waves one of her arms, making a little grabby fist at Mapi’s other hand that was not currently on her back, and the Spaniard brings it up, allowing her daughter to grasp her pointer finger in her tiny fist, holding it tightly to her chubby body. 

“I’ve got you, mi sol,” Mapi promises, her voice thick as she drops her head to place a kiss to the crown of Elena’s head. As much as she is worried about bonding with her baby, she knows that there is no shortage of love that she feels for her daughter. 

She would happily go to the ends of the earth for her little girl, no matter what it took. She can’t imagine not loving Elena, not having her in her life. And it’s moments like these, with her daughter completely relaxed into her chest, completely content, that remind Mapi that she can do this. 

Progress is not linear, and neither is being a parent. At the end of the day she loves Elena, and she would do anything for her safety and happiness. 

And that is enough.

[calxia]

I would like to hear more about sick ghouls going to the vet?

Who's the calmest and actually somewhat likes the vet? Who puts up the most fight at the vet (assuming it's probably Dew and they have to muzzle him hehe)

I love how I made what was essentially an unhinged shitpost at stupid o'clock in the morning and people want to hear more about my thoughts on it. So, here's my professional opinion on which ghouls would be the nicest patients in order (as someone who actually works in a vet hospital).

Cirrus and Cumulus are easily the best patients. They are happy to sit for the exam, purring happily the whole time. They don't care when the vet has to look in their mouth or in their ears and don't even flinch at any injections. If anything, they are too content because the nonstop purring sure as hell makes it hard to get an accurate heart rate or resp rate.

Rain is also on the calmer side. He's calm in the 'I know there's no way to get out of this' way so there's no purring but also no attempts on the vet's life. He'll grumble through the whole examination, but he puts up with it and the injections just fine. As soon as he's free to leave, he's 100% out of there without looking back.

Phantom is the nervous type. He needs lots of kind reassurance and patience during his exam and the vet has to take it super slow to not stress him out too much. He definitely is the sort that's a huge drama queen for any injections or blood tests needed. All you have to do is place your hand on him and he's already squealing before the needle even happens. Phantom's also the reason why they had to get rid of the drop ceiling as he once got stuck above it while trying to escape.

Sunny and Aurora are so excitable it takes forever to get anything done. Just constant tail wags and curious questions about what's going to happen. It’s definitely a multiple-person job to do any sort of exam on them because they just can't contain their joy and must constantly move. They ask for pets from literally everyone they see and you can give them an injection without them even realizing it because they are just too excited to greet everyone.

Swiss definitely has a 'care- will bite' note on his file. He seems happy enough to be there but he has bitten a vet before and will happily do it again. He doesn't particularly enjoy being poked and prodded about and will only tolerate it up until a certain point. Once he starts getting a little growly, he gets a muzzle so they can safely continue to treat him. He actually doesn't mind the injections, it's just more the prodding he hates.

Mountain is muzzled but that's just more for his sheer size and strength. He's as sweet as anything but if he did ever snap, he would cause serious damage so it's just a safety precaution for everyone involved. He understands this and is always as nice and polite for the whole thing as possible. They always send him away with a treat for being so good despite the muzzle.

Dew is the absolute worst patient possible. To even get him to the vet he has to be sedated before the appointment. If he's not had his pre-appointment dose, he will savage someone. Dew has an 'EXTREME CARE- WILL LUNGE' on file and has launched himself across the room just to bite the vet before. They have to fully sedate him to even be able to examine him and even then, he keeps growling through the muzzle the whole time. Once he had to go for an emergency appointment without his pre-appointment medication and it took 5 people just to be able to hold him down for the sedation injection. Everyone dreads him ever needing to see the emergency vet again.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Losing your pet.

Triggers: pet loss; talks of depression.

Author note: I had to put my cat to sleep at the beginning of the month, he was my baby so things have been really rough lately. I'm hoping writing this will help with grieving and it may be posted it may not be. If it is I hope it helps anyone who is also experiencing something like this.

Eddie:

You call him when you were freaking out about what to do. You were awoken by your animal crying out and knew they needed a vet but it's so early in the morning you don't know where to go.

When he got the call he was instantly worried for you. He knew how much having your animal helped you cope with your depression and he didn't know how losing them would make you react.

He rushed over and took you two to the 24 hour vet.

He was there to hold you as you cry, he talked to the vet for you, he called the place to make arrangements for the remains

He'd offer to have you either stay at the trailer or for him to stay at your house. He thought being in a quiet house would make you feel worse and since it happened in your room he knew you wouldn't be able to sleep in your actual bed for a while.

The two of you slept on your couch for a week after everything happened.

He would set even more reminders to help remind the both of you that you need to take your medicine

I think he would have you come and sit in on a DnD session to give you entertainment and take your mind off of things, he'd feel pretty prideful when it works

He wouldn't rush you to do anything. There is still a box of litter, still a collar, still toys on the floor oh thats fine! We can get rid of it whenever you are ready to. You want to get a new pet great! Let's get into the van! You don't even want to be around animals that's fine too!

He will map out the store trips to make sure you do not have to even walk by the pet supply aisle if you can't handle it

Steve:

He paid for everything. He knows money doesn't fix much but he didn't want you to be worried about paying for anything.

He never had a pet but he knew how close you were with your pet and he knew you were going to take it hard.

He would make sure you ate and took your medicines, he isn't the best cook but he can do basics so it was about a week of mac and cheese before you started cooking again.

He had you stay at his house, he would worry about you being alone so he made a plea deal and convinced you to stay with him. It's already pretty big and there is more than enough room for the both of you

He would try and get you a new pet better soon after everything happened

I think he would try and get you to talk about your feelings, either by making you therapy appointments or getting you stuff to journal he doesn't want you to keep things bottled up

He tends to treat it as any other heartbreak. There will be days where you two just eat junk food and watch sad movies and when that happens he doesn't mind holding you as the both of you cry into your bowls.

Billy:

Alot of people would probably say Billy wouldn't be that helpful.

I think he would struggle with knowing what to do, he could tell you were struggling but he freezes when he doesn't know what to do.

He would make some sort of comment that made you start crying and that is when he realized how serious this situation was. "It was just a cat/dog/bird/lizard/etc. get over it." Seeing you break down in front of him was his wake up call.

He would bring take out everytime he came over, he'd act like it wasn't a big deal but he knew how much it meant to you.

I think if you were to journal it would be because of Max and if/when Billy tried to make fun of the new habit you both would give him a look that made it clear to back off and he took the warning loud and clear.

I think the next time he sees a stray he would pull over and try and take it home for you. He either comes home with the animal successfully or he comes home covered in scratches and is refusing to speak about what happened.

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Sick Leave

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~2k

Summary: You take time off of work

A/N: Here’s something inspired by my anxieties😬

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort

You barely remember how you ended up back at the compound. The last thing you remembered was being at work and in so much pain that you’d had tears running down your face. You have just enough of your wits about you to realize that you’re in medical, and Bucky and Nat are by your bed talking in hushed whispers. You’re not asleep despite really wishing you were, but the burning in your hands and arms keeps you from paying attention to much of anything that’s going on around you. You wonder if you’ll get more pain medication soon. 

Your day had taken an undesirable turn following lunch. You’d had a pretty easy morning, but since the beginning of the day you’d had an appointment scheduled in the afternoon for a new client with his dog. You had no records on this dog unfortunately because he’d never been to the vet, so you had gone in pretty blind. All you knew was that he was a shepherd mix and he might have something wrong with his tail. 

This wasn’t a lot of information, but it’s not like you had any chance to gather any more before the dog had turned on you. You’d just walked into the room and you didn’t even get to greet the client before you register the sight of the large shepherd sitting with his leash on the ground and his lip curled. You don’t remember what you’d said, if anything when he attacked you, but he managed to bite both of your arms and a hand before the client had gotten him under control. Your assistant had heard the dog’s growls and immediately returned which was when you realized you were bleeding all over the place. You left the room without a word and headed for the back. 

You’d been called an ambulance and Bucky had followed you until you were stabilized enough to get to the compound. On the way there, Bucky had called Wanda nearly a dozen times, but she hadn’t answered. He knew she was busy today working on something important, but he would have hoped that she’d see how urgent things were by now. He didn’t bother telling you about this though given how distracted you were, and he has been trying to contact Wanda every 10 minutes for the past hour. 

Steve was also trying to get in contact with her, so she had nearly 30 missed calls. At this point, they were just waiting for her to finish up whatever she had going on. 

“Is Boone still howling upstairs?” 

Bucky sighs heavily at the thought of this before he shrugs in uncertainty. The shepherd had been picked up by Yelena earlier, but she’d simply taken him to your rooms here. You weren’t well enough to have him down in medical with you, and neither of you were happy about this. You were too delirious from your pain meds to really express this, but as your thoughts became less muddled, you began to worry about where your dog was. 

When you shift in your bed and release a pained noise Nat turns to you with a worried frown.

She hadn’t seen you get hurt at work like this before, and it was terrifying to think about how this could have been worse. You are hurt pretty badly and both of your arms and your left hand are bandaged now, but she’d seen how badly you’d been hurt. There were long red tracks of blood and mangled skin beneath the bandages where the dog had latched onto you and tugged. She’s glad you’re getting fentanyl because she can only imagine how much pain you’re in. 

“Y/n?”

You hear Nat’s voice but you don’t respond immediately as you try to take in your surroundings. You’re in medical as you suspected, but you don’t see your dog or Wanda by your side. Instead you see Bucky and Nat, and you figure you know how you got here. You don’t dare move them, but you glance down at your arms and cringe at the sight of the heavy bandages that cover up your painful, throbbing wounds. 

“What happened?” 

Any response that Bucky or Nat were going to give you is interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. 

Wanda’s going nearly 80mph down the back roads that lead to the compound. She’d spent all day off the grid trying to sort out a few things that had been weighing on her for a while. She hadn’t realized that it would take so long, and she certainly hadn’t realized she’d be out of reach nearly all day. She hadn’t figured this out until she had service again and her phone exploded. She had dozens of missed calls from Bucky, Steve, and a voicemail from Nat. She’d listened to that first, and upon hearing what happened to you she’d immediately gotten in her car and headed back to the compound. 

She’s panicking at the fact that she had nearly an hour before she could make it to you, and she decides to call Nat on her way there to check in. 

When Nat sees that Wanda’s calling, she quickly answers with a relieved look. 

“Wanda--.”

“How is she, Nat? Is she okay?” 

Nat hadn’t been very descriptive in her voicemail. She’d simply told the other redhead that you’d been attacked by a dog at work and you’d been bitten. She mentioned that you were being taken care of, but she knew any further detail would need to wait until they were speaking face to face, or at the very least over the phone. 

Nat turns to you and sees that you’re still grimacing before she sighs under her breath. 

“She’s in medical now getting treated, but she still seems uncomfortable.” 

Wanda feels her heart start to race and she pushes harder on the accelerator until she’s going as fast as she can. She hesitates to ask what she wants to know because she’ll worry even more about you, but she can’t help herself. She glances at the clock and tries to calculate how quickly she can get to you before she speaks. 

“How bad is it?” 

Natasha makes the mistake of hesitating and Wanda clenches her jaw in anticipation of bad news. You groan again as you try to sit up, but you quickly curse in pain as your arms burn from the movement. Wanda hears it and she feels like her heart is in her throat from the sound of you in pain. 

“Nat? Can I talk to her?” 

You don’t realize what you’re supposed to do when Nat hands you the phone. She can tell you’re still out of it when you try to take the phone from her with a confused look. She just shakes her head before holding it to your ear and telling you who’s on the other end. 

“It’s Wanda, Y/n.” 

You perk up slightly at the reminder that your wife isn’t here. You look around the room to confirm this before you frown in disappointment. 

“Wands? Where are you?” 

Wanda feels even worse about not being there for you but she tells you that she’s on her way. Hopefully no more than half an hour away. You don’t say much because you’re not feeling well, but you tell her to drive safe before you feel yourself getting sleepy again. You’re not sure what meds you’re on, but you don’t worry about it now as you try to sleep until Wanda shows up. 

You’re awoken by the sound of someone calling your name almost an hour later. Wanda had arrived a little bit ago, but after she’d seen that you were okay, or at least stable, she went to Bucky to find out the details of what had happened today. When she hears that a shepherd had attacked you at work, Wanda immediately fears the worst. She can’t see beneath your bandages, but she fears that your injuries are extensive and will keep you out of work for a while. 

“How are you feeling, detka?” 

Wanda waits patiently for you to wake up a little more, and she watches you turn to her with bleary eyes before shaking your head. You’re feeling a little better, but your arms feel heavy like lead and putting any thought into your injury makes you cringe. You think about whether or not you’d missed a red flag this afternoon. Had the dog who’s name you don’t remember given you any indication that he was going to attack? You’re not sure and this makes you grateful that no one else had been hurt. Usually, the assistant was the first person to go into the room, but you’d been running late to this appointment, so you’d gone ahead in. 

You’re only regretting this immensely right now. 

When you finally find your voice, you tell Wanda the truth because you’re too tired to come up with a lie. You have no idea how long you’ve been here, but you’d like to go to sleep for the night. You have a suspicion that you won’t be allowed to leave though, and you’re not going to be happy about that at all. 

“Better, but it still hurts.” 

Wanda watches your arm twitch at the thought, and her frown deepens as she pushes down the urge to grab your hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. She figures that would hurt you and she doesn’t want to do that regardless of her urge to hold you. 

“I’m sorry this happened, and I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner. Do I need to get more medicine for you?” 

When all you do is shake your head, Wanda worries that you’re upset with her. She hopes that it’s just the side effects of whatever you’re on, but you don’t let her worry long. You shake your head with a sigh before you nod your wife toward you with a small smile. 

“Can you come to this side, please?” 

Wanda doesn’t hesitate to do as you ask, and as soon as she’s sitting down, you slowly reach for her hand. Wanda beats you to it and touches you careful to not cause you any pain. You don’t seem to care and you squeeze her hand tightly before taking a deep breath. 

“Can we get out of here?” 

Despite Wanda’s influence, it takes an hour more of you being weaned off your IV pain meds before you can leave. You don’t put up a fight when Wanda asks you to sit in a wheelchair for the trip upstairs. It will make getting you, your meds and all of the bandage supplies that you’ll need for tomorrow upstairs in one trip. You also realized belatedly that when you arrived to your rooms in the chair, Boone was immediately clued in to something being off. He hadn’t jumped up on you like he usually would, instead he whined and nosed at your legs worriedly. 

“Where do you want to get settled?” 

Wanda watches you consider your options for a moment before you look toward the bedroom. You want to go to sleep now since you’re not hungry, but you’ve been without Wanda all day. 

“Will you join me?” 

Wanda doesn’t even consider refusing you, and she nods before rolling you that way with a small smile. She kisses your cheek as she helps you to your feet, and after you’re changed and ready for bed, she helps you get situated. You sigh heavily in relief once you’re under the covers with both of your arms on top since it’s more comfortable. You wait for Wanda to join you and you smile widely as you shift closer to her with a sigh. 

You’re so glad that you get a few days off of work. Even if your arms hurt significantly more the next day, you’re grateful that your wife spends a majority of it in bed with you. 

Masterlist

[globodamorte]

keeping this as short as I can.

hi, last week my cat was admitted to a veterinary clinic because he was having trouble breathing. turns out it was an asthma attack due to the weather + him being overweight. he got better and is already home but keeping him in the vet for 2 days was quite a financial and emotional blow. he's stable now but the doctors urged us to go to a nutritionist so we can make him a new diet so he loses weight. since his admittance and exams were so expensive we don't really have the money to go to this nutritionist anytime soon, but I don't want to wait too long either. we're in the middle of a heat wave and I don't want to risk him having another attack. the appointment costs 350 reais, which is about 70 dollars, so I'm shooting for 80 bc of pypls cut.

please help me. I just want him to be ok, seeing him unable to breathe was so scary I don't ever want to see it again if I can avoid it. it's making me extremely anxious and seriously affecting my daily life

pypl

proof and more info under the cut

the baby ☝🏼

the clinic confirming the appointment would cost R$350 👇🏼 (simple translation in alt)

if there's any more info you'd like feel free to dm me!

[mamas-filly]

The Vet Visit

"So poor thing was just loose on the street?"

"Yeah! She was really friendly so I thought she had to have an owner.

"Well, she doesn't have a chip or a collar, so if you're that fond of her, you can just take her home."

A hand reaches through the bars to pet your head, as you're shivering without the clothes this woman found you in.

"What do you think, girl? Are you coming home with me?"

The person in a white coat across from your captor speaks before you can say anything, the two of them continuing to talk above you

"We'll need to give it the required shots and give her a microchip, of course, plus any other... 'procedures' you might be looking for"

"Oh, I'm not looking to get her spayed right now, but Im glad she's being chipped, I would hate to have her get out and never see her again!"

"Of course, ma'am. If you'll just return to the lobby, we can set up payment and a follow-up appointment."

You finally see her face as she leans down to peer through the bars of the oversized crate you've been in, petting your head again as she coos into your ear

"I know its scary girl, but the Vet's going to take very good care of you okay?"

The cage opens, and you scramble out, starting to try and say something before she's too far, but as you open your mouth you feel a sharp pinch on your hips and the desperate pleas only come out as an enthusiastic "Bark!"

Stunned in surprise, you find yourself easily wrestled down by the strong, confident hands of the vet as they hold you still for the next shot, and the next.

"Good girl... good girl, you just got excited when your owner left, huh?"

Your mind swims in light fluffy emotions, as the doctors hand strokes you, no longer holding you down, though you can't really recall why you were trying to leave in thd first place. The vet calmly looks at your teeth, your breasts, and you even feel a cold glove drift and assess your loins, but all with medical efficiency.

"Your owner is one lucky lady, in perfect health, and very well behaved. It's hard to imagine you were a stray"

The vet muses to himself as you feel the harshest pinch of all today, right behind your ear. But your attention is soon swallowed by the biscuits the vet pulls from his pockets, which you greedily eat from his palm.

Once he's out of treats (and you checked, your face shoved into his pockets as he laughed at your antics), the vet puts a collar and leash on you (earning another good girl for standing so still for him) as he leads you to the lobby.

A receptionist clicks away on the keyboard before turning his head to your new owner.

"All we need now is the name Ma'am"

"Goodness, I only wish I could ask her myself." Your owner chuckles to herself at the thought. "Daisy, she looks like shed be a Daisy"

It's just then that you get led into the lobby by the veterinarian, and you can't help but tug against your leash when you see your owner, you love her, you love your owner(a thought that feels heavy with how universal it is).

Seeing your excitement your owner smiles

"I think the names a hit. Come on, Daisy, let's go home!"

[blackopals-world]

Yuu meet Yuu

Ultimate crossover episode.

(Yuu)niverse girls and tried dad Fyodor Chernousky

@black-kuroba7

1 man and 10 girls. If your daughters were always fighting you'd be tried too.

Name guide:

Gardener!Yuu: Bambi

Chef!Yuu: Jun

Marine Biologist!Yuu: Kaia

Vet!Yuu: Zahara

Harpy!Yuu:Kree

Noble!Yuu: Eleanor

Dancer!Yuu: Anastasia

Maid!Yuu: Eliza

Tailor!Yuu: Devika

(???)Yuu: Yuuna

He just wanted one morning. One quiet morning.

"You dug up my carrots!" Bambi shouted as she slammed the front door open.

Jun barely flinched as she refilled Fyodor's coffee.

"I was making lunch and we ran out. Besides they are better of eaten than rotting in the garden." She said calmly.

Bambi was turning 10 shades of red as the spitfire readied a torrent of complaints.

"Kree! Give me back my bracelet!" Devi yelled running to the attic.

"You won't miss it!" The harpy responded flying off with the trinket in hand.

All Fyodor wanted was to finish his coffee.

"Eliza! My dress is wrinkled!" Elenor whined upstairs.

"Of course madam, I'll get right on that." The self-appointed maid responded cheerfully.

"Lizzy! Let the ghosts do it!" Fyodor yelled upstairs and heard the sigh of the young maid. Honestly, that girl.

Fyodor began taking stock of where the girls were and noticed there were 4 missing.

"Oto-san! Zahara trying to eat Florian!" Kaia tattled.

Nevermind.

Fyodor walked upstairs past the sprinting Kree and Devi who were playing tug a war over some fabric now. Eleanor was having a crisis over the state of her closet while Eliza tries to calm her down. And when Fyodor opened the door to Kaia's room he found her face down with Zahara holding her in a leg lock.

"Let go of your sister." He said simply.

"But Oupa, she started it. She insulted Toby." Toby was Zahara's pet turtle " So I said I'd turn her octopus into calamari."

"Get your big butt off me Zeti!" Kaia said trying to get her off.

"Let go, Zahara. You know Kaia didn't mean it. And Kaia don't start a fight you can't finish." He scolded before closing the door.

God, he swears his hangovers were getting worse.

That leaves the last 2.

Thankfully Yuuna was in their room reading or scrying. The book was blank.

"Where is Anna?" He asked.

"She flew as the rooster crows and the sun rises to torment the world. Turning the land into a hellscalp of light and burning agony." Yuuna said flipping a blank page.

"That's my girl. Fuck daylight." Fyodor raised his mug before finishing his coffee.

Anastasia left for dance practice like Yuuna said.

Unfortunately, the other 9 were getting louder. Fighting, bickering, and running.

"Girls! I hope you finished getting ready for class!" He yelled.

All the noise stopped. Then there was rapid scrambling as they rushed to their rooms and back out with their bags.

Fyodor watched them line up by the door.

"Lizzy don't forget your homework."

"I got it Keia."

"Eleanor can I borrow your glitter pen?"

"Don't forget your lunches!"

"I left my field journal in Bambi's room."

Soon enough the girls filed out after giving Fyodor a wave of goodbye.

Silence sweet Silence.

Fyodor almost felt bad about not telling them it was Saturday.

[minervadashwood]

Reunion

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warning: none Fandom: The Walking Dead (TV) Relationship: Daryl Dixon/You; Daryl Dixon/Female Reader Characters: Daryl Dixon, You, Reader, Plus size reader Tropes: Reader-Insert, Second Chances, Second Chance Romance, Family, fluff and angst. Words: 2,993. Complete

Summary

You've been with your large family since the start of the outbreak. One morning, your group runs into Daryl's, and suddenly the one person you never thought you'd see again is holding you in his arms. Can you rekindle the love you once had, or has too much time apart ruined everything?

There were enough tents scattered about the deserted store to resemble an indoor version of the infamous Hoovervilles, mainstays during the Dust Bowl. Only instead of a collection of impoverished strangers, this little tent city was filled with members of your huge family, as well as Daryl’s group. The latter consisted of a collection of formerly random strangers, including a pregnant woman and her police officer husband: the man in charge. 

Your family and Daryl’s group had come across each other in this very same building, an abandoned but abundant Costco. The instant you set your eyes on Daryl, you ran to him, and without question he welcomed you into his arms. For a few seconds, it was a trip into the past, back before all this started and when you were still together. The hug was over quickly, both groups looking on in silent surprise, and under their scrutiny, you and Daryl backed away from each other, neither one of you enjoying the attention. 

Then, introductions were made, supplies divided, everyone silently sizing the others up. Once again, heads turned when Daryl, easily the quietest person in that store  said, “Why don’ we all jus’ stick together? Hol’ this place down for a few days. Got ‘nough people now to make it work.”

He looked at you as he said it, not at the self-appointed leaders of each group, Rick and your younger brother, the army vet.. The best you could offer Daryl was a tiny, grateful smile. Seeing him again after all this time was a blessing, to be sure, but weighed down by the past and by the current state of the world.

Your brother shook hands with Rick, and all was settled, the two self-appointed captains combining forces for the time being.

Now, in the back end of the store, near the loading bays and emergency exits, everyone had set to turning the windowless, concrete chamber into a temporary home. Just about the time you were deciding what job to tackle next, Daryl caught your eye with a small nod. Despite the years apart, you were still fluent in the language of Daryl Dixon, so you followed him.

Now you sat on a sturdy storage crate, with him next to you, well away from the others.

“Knife,” he said, pulling a whetstone from a pocket in his cargo pants.

You complied, pulling your hunting knife out and handing it over.

After a moment, he asked, “How did all of y’all make it?”

The scraping of your knife on the whetstone was the only sound for some time. Your dad and brothers were amateur survivalists. Not the end of the world bunker type, but age-old lessons passed down through the years, improved upon with each generation. All of you learned to shoot as soon as you were old enough, likewise for your brothers’ children, half of whom were deep into adolescence.  One of your sisters in law was a PA. However, none of that explained how all of you’d survived in a world where so many were lost. 

 “Luck,” you whispered, then your voice full but light, “That or all of mom’s praying actually amounts to something.”

He scoffed at your joke. 

“What about you?” you asked. “Merle? Your dad?”

He shook his head, once, and remained silent.

“I’m sorry,” you told him.

“Don’t be,” he said.

You wiped your hands on your knees, palms sweaty as nervous energy had your eyes watching your family while you longed to study Daryl as he worked.  For years, he’d been the one who got away. And now he was with you once more. A chance meeting, here at the end of the world.

You first met years ago, stranded on a country road without cell phone service. All you wanted was a drive to clear your mind, to get you out of the rat race of academia for a few hours. No one knew where you’d gone, and on your way the lack of phone service had been welcome. But a blown head gasket had you pondering an eight-mile walk back to civilization.  

However, your luck turned when a beat-up old motorcycle stopped suddenly, spraying dirt and gravel as its rider spun around.  The rider in question was Daryl, handsome, rugged, brusque but kind. To you, he was a white knight riding in on a shining steed, the Aragorn to your Arwen.

He fixed your car, followed you back home, to the small college town where you were teaching those days. You asked for his number and it grew from there. Things were good, really good. He was one of the few men you’d dated who wasn’t obsessed with sex. It took three months before you even kissed. He would show you the most beautiful places, a natural spring with delicious, crystal clear water.  A secluded waterfall with a cave behind it, the dark place filled with undisturbed mineral wonders. On the fourth of July, he drove you to an overlook to watch the display of fireworks, far from the eyes of strangers. For your birthday weekend, he gave you a motorcycle helmet of your own and took you camping, where you made love for the first time under the stars. You spent all your free time with him, neglecting piles of ungraded papers and a growing list of unread emails in your inbox.

But it was worth it.  Daryl was worth it.

Then, almost a year after you met, he disappeared. Your calls went unanswered until one day an automated voice told you the number was no longer in service. Multiple times you drove by his trailer only to find it lifeless. No motorcycle in the drive, no lights on, all the curtains pulled shut. Not even the motion-sensored security light worked anymore. 

Right now you wanted so badly to ask what happened. Where things went wrong. What made him give up everything the two of you had and leave without a word. 

You permitted yourself to look down at him. He smoothed his finger along the edge of your knife blade, then he gave it back to you, handle first. Ever the Southern gentleman.

He jutted his chin at your hip, where your gun remained in its holster. “When’s the last time ya cleaned it?”

A week or more, you knew. How many times had you used it since then? You couldn’t count. You unfastened the holster and handed the sidearm to him. Your father had given it to you when all this started. His “gift” to his only daughter, the one grown-up in the family who didn’t own a gun.

Across the way, your father was wrangling the twins, two blonde-haired toddlers who were vehemently protesting “bathtime.” Bathtime these days amounted to little more than a wet rag with a bit of bar soap spread over it.

“I can do that myself, you know,” you told Daryl as he started taking apart your gun and laying the pieces on a cloth spread across his lap.

He huffed, but otherwise stayed silent. 

Again, you gave in to your urge to watch him. His thick, strong fingers wiped down each piece of your gun. From one of his many pockets, he took out gun oil and rubbed it liberally on all the inner workings of your weapon.

He’d always had a knack for finding things to tinker with. Back then, he would look around your rental house for something to fix: a creaky door, a flickering light bulb, a loose kitchen cabinet.

The sight of him taking care of your gun made the years apart disappear, almost. And you found yourself falling into the comfortable silence for a little longer. After a time, you gave up on the urge to reach for him, to take his hand or ruffle his hair. But you did scoot a little closer, now closely watching him as he put your gun back together.

He huffed again, but didn’t shy away from you. Instead, he looked up slightly, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. 

You couldn’t help returning his smile with one of your own, but yours was effusive, heart melting and picking up speed as you gazed at each other. 

Eventually, he handed your gun back to you and wiped his hands on the dirty cloth from his lap. 

“Rick’ll do right by y’all,” he murmured. “Yer folks need a place to stay jus’ like we do.”

“That’s a lot of people to take on,” you protested. 

“I seen your dad and brothers, their wives, too. Y’all’ll hold yer own. ‘Sides, look at all them kids.”

You did, watching the two younger boys work together to set the long folding tables with dinnerware. Meanwhile, the four older teenagers helped your brothers move shelves around, creating a barricade for the night. You mom and sisters in law were going through food supplies, swapping things with Carol and Lori, all of them smiling the polite way that Southern women had when just getting to know each other.

Daryl cleared his throat. “Any of them kids yers?”

You giggled. “Lord no.  Mom wishes, though.”  It was true, despite already having eight grandchildren, your mother always wanted you to settle down and have a few of your own.  However, that was never important to you. “You know I never wanted kids.”

He shrugged. “Been a long time. Things can change.”

Before you could reply, one of your brothers walked over, the mischievous glint in his eye not boding well for you.

“Sis, we’re trying to figure out the watch schedules for the night. Figured with all of us here we could double up, so six altogether. You and Dad--”

You shook your head. “He needs a break.”

“I’ll take second watch wi’ ya,” Daryl announced, studiously studying his fingernails. 

You smiled at Daryl, blushing when your brother snickered. Your family hadn’t asked yet how you knew the man, but the interrogation would happen sooner or later, you were sure.

“Guess that’ll work,” your brother mused. “Got all the couples keeping watch. Put the little ones with Mom and Dad.”

“Couple? Daryl and I aren’t a couple!” you squeaked, drowning in embarrassment.

“Coulda fooled me, Sis, you two over here all by your lonesome.”

Leave it to your brother to hit where it would hurt the most. 

Daryl stood up and walked away without a word. Dread settled in your belly. You couldn't blame him. He was the one who’d left, after all. He made it clear by his absence that he didn’t want you the same way you wanted him.

The way you still wanted him.

“Something I said?” your brother quipped. You flipped him off and went to help your dad. 

*

A few months later.

The November gale practically ripped through your winter gear, trying to blow you sideways off the bike. You pressed your forehead and nose against Daryl’s back for just a moment, holding tightly to him as he drove down the deserted back road to the nearest town.

You’d found a new shelter a week ago, something to hopefully see you through the worst of the winter. But food was hard to come by. Your little nieces were listless and cried themselves to sleep multiple times a day. The rest of the kids slept so much, exhausted from maintaining the shelter while the adults kept watch and went hunting.

Your family and Daryl’s group had acclimated to one another. Carl was friends with your nieces and nephews, Sophia, too, but she rarely went anywhere on her own without Carl.

As you expected, your brothers had weaseled your history with Daryl out of you,  ganging up on you one night while the camp slept. Your younger brother ran the watches and supply runs like a seasoned officer. He and Rick would butt heads at times, but it all worked out in the end.

One of your brother’s brilliant ideas? Battle buddies. And, of course, Daryl was yours. Primary objectives: reconnaissance and supplies.

You lifted your head up once more, blinking your dry eyes and looking out for walkers as Daryl drove. You weren’t sure how long you’d be gone from the others, only a few days, you hoped.

Eventually, Daryl stopped at a little hamlet. Not much around except a Dairy Queen, a Piggly Wiggly, and an old Exxon with boarded up windows. It looked like it’d been abandoned long before the outbreak.

You begrudgingly unwrapped your hands from Daryl’s waist, bidding adieu to all the warmth he provided. You both quietly got off the bike, and using well-practiced hand signals began clearing the nearest building.

Neither you had spoken about the past, not in all the supply runs, watches, or even during the long hours of boredom that came along with survival. Yet in some ways, things were like they’d been back then. Those first few weeks of dating were rocky, with Daryl so quiet and standoffish. But you learned and so did he.

Now, those past lessons were paying off. You knew which way he’d move before he took a step. And likewise he knew just when you needed a break or reassurance. You needed a lot of reassurance these days because, next to Daryl, you found yourself always lacking. His movements were impossibly silent, his aim impossibly true, his determination impossible to live up to. It was a struggle to keep up with him, but you tried. Every damn day you tried to be the Battle Buddy Daryl Dixon deserved.

The first building was clear of both walkers and supplies, and that didn’t bode well for the rest of the area, which had likely already been picked clean. Outside, the wind had picked up even more, but now a flurry of swirling whiteness clouded your vision.

Snow. In Georgia? 

While you stared at the whirling flakes, Daryl continued on, unfazed by the change in weather. You followed him to the Dairy Queen, where he climbed in through the drive through window and pulled you in after him. The place was piled high with cones of every shape and size. You undid the ties on your hood and threw it back, laughing at the sight. You doubled over, imagining the motorcycle piled high with wavering towers of ice cream cones strapped to your back: a feast for the famished. Towers of cake cones the saving grace in an apocalypse. 

It took you a few moments to regain your composure, and you fully expected Daryl to be glaring at you or ignoring your outburst entirely to look for more substantive food supplies.

Instead, he was gazing at you softly, a gentle smile on his lips.

You froze, momentarily lost in the way he watched you. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

He chewed his bottom lip, eyes still soft but now searching your face. “‘S good to hear ya laugh,” he whispered, drawing closer. “Been too long since I heard it.”

Heat suffused your cheeks as he got even nearer, his solid frame so close and warm next to you. How long it had been since you forbid yourself to think of him like this. For months you’d shut off that part of your heart, protecting it from disappointment and instead focusing on feeding your family.

But all that resistance was gone now, and again you wanted him. You wanted the sweet, quiet man you fell in love with. You wanted the dry-witted survivalist who was with you now. 

And yet, there was a reason you didn’t have him . A reason that you’d shut off your heart from this painful longing.

Daryl reached for your hand, but you backed away, accidentally nudging a defunct ice cream machine with your hip. It ached, but you ignored the self-inflicted injury.

“Why?” you whispered to him, his face no longer soft but hardened, jaw set and eyes narrowed. “Why did you disappear?”

He shook his head and turned away, and you let out a long breath. As much as you wanted an answer, you didn’t expect one.

You wiped the tears that dripped from your eyes without your permission. They stung your windburned cheeks.

Then, he spoke, his back to you.

“Back there, ya got all them people who care ‘bout ya. Yer folks, yer brothers, little nieces all lookin’ up to ya.”

You stilled, to give him time to gather his thoughts, his words. His voice cracked as he spoke. He sniffed.

“An’ all I had was Merle. He raised me, gave a shit when no one else did. Taught me all I know. How to hunt, how to fight, how to be a man.”

None of those things made Daryl a man anymore than a ball cap made someone a player for the Chicago Cubs.

“He said to jump, an’ I said how high. So when he tol’ me we needed to leave, I left. I was gonna come back, but when I did, you were gone, an’ I--” He shrugged his shoulders then leaned his hands on the countertop, sniffing again. “I tol’ myself you were better off wi’out me.”

He turned, and his cheeks were red, with tears running down them as he refused to look you in the eye.

He shook his head. “But I can’t leave ya again. Even if it ain’t gonna be like it was then. I love ya, Y/N, an’ as wrong as it is, I love this shitty world for bringin’ ya back to me. But--”

You closed the distance between you, stopping his words as you cupped his jaw and lifted his head so he’d look at you.

“I don’t care anymore,” you told him. “I thought I still did, but I don’t. What matters is now. I love you, too. Never stopped.”

Daryl pried your hands from his face, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead on yours. “Lemme make it righ’ then. Lemme show ya I ain’t gonna leave again.”

“Okay,” you whispered and kissed him. 

===

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[adrift-in-thyme]

Legend trying to come up with an explanation for wild to not shoot seagulls, without mentioning kohoholint?

Thanks so much for the prompt! <33 This one got kinda angsty

Fic beneath the cut

Wild lets out a growl of frustration as his carefully aimed arrow falls broken to the ground. He whirls around to face the perpetrator.

“Why’d you do that?”

Legend meets his gaze. The fire in his eyes is startling.

“I told you never to shoot seagulls.”

“I know but” — Wild looks up at where the birds still circle, emboldened by the presence of their self-appointed protector— “we’re low on food.”

It’s true. The two of them were separated from the others three days ago and their food supply is close to running out. And with the seagulls being nearby and plentiful, Wild had decided they were a viable option.

…he still thinks they’re a good option. But it’s unlikely Legend will just lay off him any time soon. The vet has been as grumpy as ever for the past few days, but today is the worst by far. 

Legend places his bow and arrows back in his pouch. 

“There are plenty of other food sources around here. You can cook something else.”

There are decidedly few other things on this island, but Wild supposes he can make do with some seafood. Still, he can’t help but wonder…

“Why do you want to protect the gulls so much? You never mind when I kill other birds.”

The veteran stiffens. He opens his mouth and closes it, eyes widening slightly. Wild is oddly reminded of a rabbit caught in the shadow of a predator. 

“I..seagulls are…” He shakes his head viciously, cap flying back and forth. “They’re special.”

Wild lifts an eyebrow. “Special how?”

Legend tenses further. His knuckles have turned white from clutching the clasp of his pouch. Everything points to the danger of continuing the topic further. Yet Wild presses onward, desperate to make sense of this mystery.

(And yes, perhaps, he wants to know one of the vet’s secrets after he has teasingly uncovered so many of his own. Call him spiteful, if you want.)

He waves a hand toward the birds, head cocked. “They’re noisy, messy, and everywhere. That sounds exactly like something you would hate, vet.”

Legend drops his gaze from where he had followed Wild’s gesture up to the sky. The scowl he sends him could curdle a bottle of milk.

“They’re special in their own way, okay? And they’re essential to their ecosystem. The world couldn’t survive without them.”

Now Wild struggles not to laugh. Of all the ways he thought he would spend today, discussing the value of animals to their ecosystems with the Hero of Legend is not one of them. 

“I know, Leg,” he says, trying to make his tone gentle. “That’s why I was only gonna kill a couple.”  

At the word “kill,” Legend flinches visibly. Instantly, remorse floods through Wild. 

“Hey, vet, I–”

Legend turns away, bangs hiding his expression.

“Leave it, Champion,” he snaps. “Hunt anything else you want. But don’t you dare try to touch her again.”

Wild pauses halfway through outstretching his hand to rest it on Legend’s shoulder.

Her?

He looks back up at the seagulls, brows furrowed in thought. Things make even less sense now than they did before. (And sweet Hylia, he hasn’t done himself any favors where Legend’s mood is concerned). But something in the way the vet says the word, in the way it slips out, cracked and broken, makes him let the matter drop.

He swallows and lowers his hand. “Okay, I’ll get something else for us to eat.”

Legend’s only reply is a terse nod. Straightening, he walks away.

[yellow-computer-mouse]

lil vent- tw mentions of hypothetical animal death, animal illness, stuff like that

so my cat azzy went to the vet a while back and they said he has a heart murmur. he's lost 2/3rds of his weight in the past couple years. (he's also had a cone for a while (got it off recently) bc of a bad reaction to a flea bite, but that's unrelated)

his fur's not as soft as it used to be and he's not acting the same. he's always been very dramatic, meowing when you walk past him to make you think you hurt him so you feel bad. lately, he's not been doing that, and hasn't even been meowing when you actually step on him (i accidentially stepped on his tail, and all he did was let out this sad little cry when i went to pet him and apologize). the weight loss and heart murmur are signs of hyperthyroidism, which isn't good.

i'm just really worried about him. i feel so bad, and i'm just really scared that he's going to die soon. he's my first pet (alongside my dog, who i'll also miss a ton, but he's very healthy. same with chloe, my other cat) and i'm not anywhere near ready to let go. i know it's probably nothing to worry about, but we haven't gotten another appointment to confirm what it is, and i'm just so worried about him. i'm not ready for him to die. i love him so much, and this is my first experience with this, and i'm so fucking scared. i don't want him to die. he's my perfect little crybaby and i love him and he's old and sick and i'm not ready for him to die. i don't want him to die. i love him so much. i can't put it into words how much i love him, and how much i already miss him, because he's not acting himself.

he's not being dramatic and he's losing weight and his fur isn't as soft as it was just a month ago. i'm so fucking sad and scared because i don't want him to die. i love him. i love my cat azzy. i love you azzy. please don't die on me please i'm not ready i don't want you to die i need you to stay with me you can't be sick you have to be okay i'm not ready to say goodbye

i love you azzy. please don't go. you're so important to me and i can't handle this. i love you.

[snekky-arts]

Update on my cat!

After going through actual hell with 3 different vets we finally got him into an appointment. His kidney disease is worsening, but that's per the course for his situation. The good news is that the vet determined that he's otherwise in really good health for his age and should have years left with medication and diet.

Of course, however, this appointment and the subsequent medication (the cost diet he's going on will be somewhat balanced out by the fact we're dropping his old food) will cost money. Because of this, I'm not ending my commission sale anytime soon.

In case you didn't know, I am offering 30%-60% off all commissions indefinitely to help pay for my cat

I'm hoping to at least be able to pay my parents back for this appointment (I still need around $300) by the end of the summer, so if you are at all interested I welcome the business!

Commission info

Tumblr commission post (<- find regular pricing range here!)

[bekkathyst]

Hey everyone - we could use a little help, but this is more of a personal thing so I’m going to put it under a read more so if you’re not interested, no worries just scroll on 🙏

Some of you may know that when we moved to Austria we couldn’t immediately bring our cats with us right away, and they’ve been under the care of a friend of mine until we found a house we could have cats in. We actually just found a house for rent that we’ll be moving into in July and we will finally have our kitties back (that was my happy news I was going to share soon) but… something really unfortunate happened about 2 days ago. One of our cats got suddenly very sick. My friend has taken him from vet to vet to try to get a diagnosis, but so far nothing is clear. This is my problem: I hold USD in my PayPal to pay for inventory and to send to my friend for cat costs. However, I just placed a massive order for the new spring inventory which nearly cleared out my PayPal. All the vet bills so far have used up the rest of my PayPal balance. It’s going to take several days for me to transfer Euro from my personal bank account to my PayPal account to be able to send to my friend and he has another vet appointment tomorrow.

So basically, if anyone was considering placing an order from the spring cleaning sale and wanted to help out, the way you can do that is checkout with PayPal using USD. Any sale (aside from the shipping costs) will go straight to my friend so Tiger can go back to the vet and we can hopefully get to the bottom of this.

This is just the worst timing imaginable - if this had happened a couple weeks ago this wouldn’t have been such an issue 😢 I just feel horrible for my boy and I wish so much I was there with him, but I want to make sure I do everything I can from afar as quickly as possible. He isn’t able to eat and they think he has some kind of obstruction but the radiologist will be able to confirm tomorrow.

I hate to ask anything of you folks, so please know that this is just a post for those who were already considering buying something: if you want to help, the way you can is by paying specifically with PayPal if possible so I can right away send money to my friend taking care of my cats. I hope this makes sense, it’s a sucky and complicated situation.

TLDR; if you want to help us out and we’re planning on placing an order with our spring cleaning sale, it would be awesome if you paid with PayPal. 💜

This is the post with all the info on how to order from this sale.

Thank you so much. I hate to make this type of post, and I really hope this doesn’t upset anyone. 🙏