#i’m going to time it so that i have at least a week off for when totk comes out

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS BONUS CHAPTER

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlwifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch @ryywyd @lupinqs @ohmybueckers

warnings sexual content

kalena speakss 🪽! i hit 1k last night so i figured it would be perfect to give you guys this lil thing. thank you guys so much for all the love since i joined this community, i can’t wait to put out more works for y’all 🥹 THANK YOU AGAIN FOR 1K!

August 2025 — Los Angeles, California

“You’re really about to go have drinks and leave me here? All by myself?” I whine, my head resting on the mirror where I sit on Raye’s bathroom counter.

The last month of being with Maraye has been nothing short of an adventure to say the least. The honeymoon phase was absolutely real, because I honestly think we’ve spent more time with one another than apart. Aside from my last road trip.

Which I believe is the sole reason for my complaining and frowning in front of her right now.

“I’ve had these plans for weeks. I haven’t seen my girls in forever, it’s the first time everyone’s back in LA.” She explains to me, and I get it. I really do, but something about just landing last night and only getting a few kisses before bed makes the fact that she’s going out even more ridiculous in my head.

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you in forever. Do you just hate me, or what?” I continued. I reach for the belt loop of Raye’s denim skirt, pulling her in between my legs. “Ma, c’mon.”

She has this look on her face that makes it so hard to act upset. Wide eyes and a thin lipped cheeky smile. Concealer dabbed under her eyes, blush on her cheeks, Raye got her lashes done yesterday morning and the fresh set makes her dark rimmed eyes look even more enticing.

My girlfriend is fucking hot. I’ve had the privilege of having my eyes blessed by her since we started dating. But God, even the simplicity of her black top and jean skirt— with the tiniest sliver of skin on her stomach showing and skirt just short enough to bring a lot of dirty thoughts to my imagination— makes the realization stick to me like glue.

“You look good.” I murmur as I trail my hand behind her. It finds a home against her waist at first, but I could only be tempted to drag it lower over her ass. “Real fuckin’ good.”

“I know. Which is why I’m going out.” Raye jeers. She pushes off of me, reaching for her just slightly pink lip gloss. It’s sheer when she swipes it over her plump lips, a nice color contrast to the dark brown of her lip liner.

My fingers tap frustratedly against my knee. “Baby. Jus’ stay wimme, c’mon.” I groan again, hoping that my combination of puppy eyes and the line of my jaw is enough to convince her. I watch the way Raye pats her lips together and I know it’s not on purpose but it sure as hell feels that way.

“You had all day to try to keep me home. You didn’t care until I got all dressed up, P.” She rolls her eyes playfully. Raye shutting off the light and leaving me in the darkness of her bathroom. The sexy scent of her Jimmy Choo perfume briefly puts me in a trance but I get up and follow her anyway.

“That’s ’cause I didn’t expect you to look this…this fucking fine.” My bottom lip can’t help but travel between my teeth as I watch her walk, her boots clicking against the hardwood of her apartment.

“That’s not my problem, babe.”

I scoff. “Don’t go out with ‘em, Raye. You’re telling me we wouldn’t have more fun here?” My voice is suggestive, just enough to make her stutter in her step before slowly pivoting to face me.

She’s processing what to say, and a part of me is begging that she’s going to take her boots off and throw herself at me so I have her as I want for the rest of the night.

Raye struts over to me, pressing her palm against my cheek. We’re nearly at eye level like this, the smell of her hair product wafts up to my nose. I jut my lips out towards her, to be honest I’m not sure I even realized how genuinely needy I was until right then.

“‘M gonna get lipgloss on you.” She sighs.

“On my life, I don’t give a shit.”

It seems enough to get her to give in, enough for Raye to lean in and pull me to her by my tank top, slotting her lips against mine. She tastes like that same faint, sweet, coconut scent of her body wash.

I immediately reach for her hands, lacing her fingers with mine and dragging her other hand down my torso as I deepen the kiss.

She grips the waistband of my shorts, my tongue doesn’t even bother being gentle with the way I shove it between her lips, licking at her tongue in a tangled exchange.

Seemingly, she forgets that she had places to be, which fills me with a sense of pride that sends a rush through me, I think I’ve probably soaked my boxers into nothing by now. Maraye’s phone buzzes in her purse, making her hum in almost…realization.

“They can wait.” I grunt against her lips, our teeth continuing to clash in pure want.

Raye breaks the suction of our mouths, a vulgar popping noise cutting through the soft noise of the TV in the back.

“You can wait.”

“It’s been forever, ma. You gon’ let me go over a week without you? For real?”

A laugh erupts from her mouth, Raye’s thumb brushing under my lip, probably ridding me of any of her now transferred lip product. “There’s food on the stove, don’t touch my AC, and I promise—” the girl pauses, taking the opportunity to sneak a kiss off of me, “— I’ll let you have whatever you want when I get back.”

I can’t do anything more than sigh as I watch her walk away, the sway of her hips and swell of her ass and the light that her kitchen illuminates on those long, brown legs. She picks up her keys and slings her jacket over her arm.

Within seconds she’s gone.

—

When I got to the bar, enveloped in conversation with my girlfriends from college, all it really took was a few shots to get me going. The conversation flowed easily, like we really hadn’t even been apart for as long as we really did. I was having a good time. Which honestly, is surprising considering how much work I’ve been doing for the last handful of months.

The night was calm, the soft noise of 2000’s music pumping through the speakers and the occasional cheers at the expense of tipsy women dancing only a few feet away.

That was until Paige, even as wonderful and perfect as I think she truly is, decided to use my obvious obsession towards her to her advantage.

paige: You doin alright angel?

Yk without your amazing girlfriend and all read 10:38pm

I sip on my margarita, the heat of the alcohol and the almost sudden heat in the pit of my stomach is so strong that they’re one and the same. This is how it starts with her, I’ve learned. Short texts, asking how I am or about my whereabouts. I always find the second question amusing considering she has my location. It’s distracting in a way that makes me forget where I am.

“Oh my God, look at Cass.” My good friend who sits to my left, Nia, points up to my sister. The woman is obviously shit faced, too many drinks taken by this part of the evening. She dances carelessly alongside a few of the other girls.

“I swear she only had a few?” I look shocked, taking a mental note and making sure the only thing Cassie has to drink for the rest of the night is water.

“Multiply that by like, four.”

My ready response is immediately cut off by another text, the blinding light that comes from Paige’s contact makes me roll my eyes.

paige: Read? Wow what position y’all in rn 10:40pm

maraye: oh my god you’re dramatic as hell 😭

i’m fine baby, u? 10:41pm

paige: Nah not rlly

I’m wet as fuck rn just thinking about you

Made a mess on your couch :/ 10:42pm

My breath catches in my throat, coming off as a gasp to Nia. “You okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Imma head to the bathroom real fast.” I explain, trying my best to mask any possible stutter as I stand up, fixing my skirt. She doesn’t say much, which is a relief to me as I dart off to the bathroom in the back.

This is classic Paige, trying to do anything to get in my head just because she can. And as much as I’d hate to admit that it’s working, it is.

The way she was so straightforward about it, drawing me into the conversation with lighthearted Paige-esque texts only to flip the script into something much more filthy within a matter of minutes.

I lean my back on the singular porcelain sink, gripping my phone in my hands. I reopen our text thread, racking my brain for what to say to her that won’t lead to me making a mess out of my panties.

maraye: paige quit itttt

i literally just got here 10:44pm

paige: I literally don’t care 🤷🏼‍♀️

Can’t get your ass in that skirt outta my head

Got my fingers all sticky and shit 10:45pm

I swear my heartbeat speeds up times fucking ten, my chest heaving like she sucked all the air out of my lungs without even being here.

The picture she just painted in my head makes my knees weak.

Hot and bothered even more than before I left. Paige’s fingers, long and so ridiculously skilled, between her thighs as she got off to me. The thought of her imagining me or looking at pictures of me, it’s so downright dirty that I can’t believe I didn’t indulge in sexting with her before this.

I take a deep inhale, wanting to blink back my thoughts of her coming on my couch, my name off of her lips like a prayer.

paige: 1 Attachment: 1 Video

I think you should come back home 10:47pm

Fumbling with my phone I finally tap the screen and get the video open. It’s pitch black at first, then the view of her lower body fills my whole screen. Paige’s legs spread wide on my couch, a foot propped up on the armrest as she lets out an audible groan.

Her hand tugs up the hem of her wife beater, then her fingers rub circles over her clit. The sound of how wet she is loud, too loud, almost drowning out her moaning. I whine, crossing my legs and shutting my eyes. Maybe if I stopped looking at her I would keep what was left of my sanity.

And then she moans my name, again. My full name. Over and over and fucking over. I can’t help but drag my hand under my skirt, over my panties.

Then she slips three fingers inside, the stretch is obvious but the moan she lets out. Paige curls her fingers inside herself, I watch the camera tremble in response— she’s struggle to hold it still.

Then she’s slamming them in and out, a repetition that makes her almost cry. It sounds like water sloshing on the other side of the phone. Wet. Wet and fucking messy until she comes with a sound that could really only be described as a scream.

maraye: fuck baby 10:50pm

paige: I can’t stop cumming ma

Needa fuck you so bad

Come home 10:50pm

My breathing is ragged, and I know I shouldn’t but I’m considering it heavily. It’s so hard to believe that not even two weeks without her was making me act like this but it was.

maraye: you gotta come get me 10:51pm

paige: Otw read 10:52pm

—

"So, What'd you tell 'em?" I murmur. We sit at a red light, my left hand gripping the steering wheel so hard that even in the late night lighting you can tell how strained they are. But my right hand, trails slowly up Raye's thigh. She didn't fight me, not at all, her legs spreading further in the seat of my Jeep.

I can feel the warmth exuding from her before I even get a chance to press against her cunt.

"Hmm?"

"Your girls. What was your excuse, ma?" I ask again, pressing my foot to the gas pedal as soon as that green light flashes in my face.

My fingers take their time traveling towards her center and the second they do, Raye adjusts in the seat. She pushes her hips up the leather, tipping her head back on the head rest.

"Told 'em you needed a good fuck?" I pull her panties aside, and the second they touch my fingertips I learn that she's fucking soaked. "That you were so fuckin' needy that you had to go home to me, huh?"

The soft sound of PartyNextDoor fills the car alongside the soft hum of pleasure from Raye's lips. My eyes dart down to her, the way she has her eyes glued shut, the heavy rise and fall of her chest. Then I follow the slope of her nose and the tip of her head. The city streetlights make her look like an angel, just glowing.

"Y’were the one begging for me." She groans as I slip my finger inside. The angle puts a slight strain on my wrist but I don't really care. I look back to the road, it's pure luck that the roads tonight are kind of empty.

“It worked tho’ right? Got you just how I want you.” I smirk at the fact, tapping my free hand against the steering wheel.

Raye is so damn warm against me, hugging my middle finger like a vice. "So jus' lemme know. Did you say how wet I make you, that's why you couldn't stay?"

"Oh fuck you." She moans, biting her lip so hard that I think she might draw blood.

“Imma do that, baby. Trust me.” I hum.

Maraye is reactive, if it’s the one thing I’ve noticed about having sex with her, it’s that. Sure the sound of her pussy around my finger is loud but her moans might be louder. Then when I slip in a second finger she lets out a whimper, an almost helpless one.

She tries to steady herself, splaying a hand on my center console but it only does so much. It stabilizes her for a moment until I curl my fingers in that way I know she likes. Her hips jerk up, riding up her skirt in the process.

“You tryna run? I thought you knew better than that, Raye.” I shake my head. I’m lucky we’re on a straight road, it gives me enough time to briefly let my hand leave the wheel to pin her hips down to the seat.

“Y—you’re so good.” She groans, blinking her eyes open. “M’gonna cum.”

I make a swift turn onto her street, racking my brain for all the ways I could turn this woman to putty until the sun came up. “Nah you gonna hold it until we get to yours.” I mutter, dragging my fingers in and out with a fervor. “Then you’re gonna let me fuck you with my cock.”

I watch her jaw fall slack at my words, either in shock or pleasure but regardless it’s addicting. She nods rapidly, whining as I slow my fingers until they’re barely even moving inside her and I finally get a chance to park the car.

“More, baby. Mor—”

“Gonna soak me up the way you’re soaking my seat. Jus’ fuckin’ up my car, huh? You’re gonna give it to me.” I turn my body to face her, gripping her chin so she’s looking at me. My fingers twist inside of her, the squelch of it all catches us both off guard. “Imma stretch you out so wide it hurts. Ruin that pussy, yeah?”

“Yes. God, yes.” Raye nods.

Her eyes roll back, more than enough to make me moan and pull my fingers out. They’re soaked with her arousal, a sheen that drips to my palm. I’m wrapped in the scent of her— sex, perfume, and coconut— a combination that makes me drip down my legs.

“Then let’s go.” I mutter, turning off the car sticking my keys into the pocket of my shorts. My hand comes up to my lips, cleaning them of the mess she had made. “Lemme get you right.”

—

Paige is fucking hot.

Her skin burns under my touch, yes, but it’s everything else too. How her lips chase after mine like I could run away, capturing my bottom lip in her mouth. Her tongue licking past my lips, into my mouth, and onto my tongue.

Our clothes are mostly long gone, my boots and skirt laying somewhere near my front door, and the rest of them occupied random spots across my bedroom floor.

And then that damn harness.

The first time we had sex and she brought up the strap I thought it was all a ploy to turn me on. Don’t get me wrong, it worked, made me cum so hard my legs shook until I fell asleep. But seeing it, seeing the way the dildo hangs from her hips— a long and girthy dark purple— made me drool.

She was blatantly vulgar with it, my cock, the words off her lips so dirty that i’m surprised they turn me on as much as they do. But that’s just Paige, everything she does turns me on.

She tangles her hand behind me to the clasp of my bra which she unclips and forces down my arms. Following that, a slap meets my ass hard. Hard enough that I’m almost positive she left a bruise.

“I been dreaming about this shit, y’know?” She starts. Her teeth nip at my lips, soothing the slight sting with short and soft pecks. “Tearin’ it open, how good that shit would feel.”

I hum against her, letting the blonde push me back against the bed. “That’s what got you so worked up, baby?” I tease. Paige watches me with wide eyes and an even wider mouth as I trail my panties down my legs, they’re soaked from her stunt over the phone and in the car.

“Fuck, Raye, y’ont even know.” She groans.

I watch the way her eyes flutter shut, like she’s imagining it all over again, and her hand travels to the strap. Her hand wraps around it, enough to remind me of how fucking huge her hand is. She strokes it as if it’s an extension of her. There’s a faint buzzing that I hear on the other end, and just knowing she’s getting off too makes this whole thing even more appealing.

“Been thinking about splitting me open, yeah?” I ask as my hands travel up to my chest, gripping my breast before bringing my other hand to my mouth. I’m putting on a show for her licking my fingers and shoving them between my legs, rubbing over my clit. “Make me cum on your cock, baby. Please?” I beg, widening my legs to make room for her.

“Scoot back.” The blonde instructs. And I do. I know better than to work her up some more.

I watch my girlfriend’s spit drip from her mouth and onto the tip as she hovers over me. She spreads it over the silicon before spitting on my cunt too. Paige teases the tip against me and I swear the minute she pushes it inside me, my body heat rises uncontrollably.

“Oh my—shitttt, baby!” I think I feel it in my chest, the pressure that fills me completely. My inner thighs sting as she slides the dildo in to the hilt, letting out a soft gasp that matches my expletive. Paige’s arms cage me in, palms pressed against beside my head as she starts rocking her hips.

I’ve had my fair share of sex and sexual experiences, but this right here, makes everything else I’ve ever done look like child’s play. The stretch is unbelievable. And even if Paige had taken it upon herself to try and prep me with her fingers all this time, they don’t even compare.

It’s so intimate, Paige’s breath fanning against my face and her thin silver chain dangling against me too. Her strokes are slow, and deep. Incredibly deep. She reaches a spot inside of me that hasn’t been tapped before, and she does it fast, almost instantly.

“Talk to me, pretty girl.” She murmurs in my ear. Paige’s hand wraps around my waist, raising my hips just enough to make my eyes water. “Tell me how that pussy feelin’.”

I gasp. “So… so fuckin’ good. Mmmm it’s perfect, baby.”

Paige speeds up, not rapid but just enough that I’m arching my back and throwing my hips down against her. My legs curl around her hips to pull her in deeper.

“Oh shit.” Paige grunts, the vibrator against her cunt coupled with the movement of my hips is stimulating her heavy. “This whatchu needed? Just good dick, yeah? He wasn’t hittin’ it right?”

I dig my nails into her biceps, which are huge from her All-Star break workouts, and shake my head. Her eyes flutter open, lip tucked between her teeth. She looks fucking incredible, Paige’s hair is down for the first time in a while. She’s always pulling it back, but right now with the way it shadows us in a curtain is goddess like.

“Answer me, angel.”

“Uh huh, yes! Fuck yes, I needed it so bad, P.” I moan. Paige only briefly pauses to change her angle, but then she’s right back against me. Skin to fucking skin. She unhooks my leg from around her, pushing it back as far as she could.

Her nose brushes against my own. “You take me so good. Keep suckin’ me up, ma.”

My eyes roll as the coil in my stomach tightens, I don’t think I’ve ever come this fast in my life. The way the strap rakes laboriously into my cunt is toe curling. “Needa cum. Let me, please.” I hiccup. My fingers tangle into her hair, tugging her locks slightly.

“Tell me you love it.”

Those five words are enough to make me fall under a spell. Paige’s voice is laced with fucking drugs, deep and breathy against my mouth.

“I love this shit. Love your cock, baby.” It comes out as almost a cry.

The admission makes Paige smirk and chase after my mouth, locking our lips in a kiss that draws the orgasm out of my body. She moans all high and drawn out into my mouth meshing our tongues messily.

“You wanna cum, Raye?” She stutters. I notice it, obviously. The change in her pitch and the way she slightly trips over her words. She’s close, probably overstimulated from her activities on my couch.

“Please?”

“I want it, baby. Cum for me.”

And I do. Gushing over the silicone almost instantly. Paige helps me ride it out, kissing the corner of my mouth before trailing her lips to my cheek. “Good girl. My perfect girl.” She hums.

She carefully pulls out, trying to be as gentle as she possibly can but I still hiss at the feeling. A whimper leaves my lips at the empty feeling, I miss her inside me already.

Paige flops beside me on the bed, she’s watching me catch my breath. I can feel her eyes on me even though i’m not looking at her. Her eyes like lasers, scanning over me. The blue says everything she’s yet to.

“Just say you wanna go again.”

She laughs at that while throwing her arm over my hip. It rests heavy on my abdomen. I finally turn my head to her, the sweat on her entire body only makes the chain on her neck glisten in the light.

“C’mere.” It comes out as a whimper and I can only assume it’s from the dull stimulation from the vibrator. Paige reaches for my hips, helping me straddle her hips. I happily lean down to her, kissing her perfect pink lips with a smile. “Ride it.”

I take the length in my hand, my release now decorating my palm. I tease my own entrance then sink down on it slowly. The feeling is even more foreign than taking her in missionary.

Before I even get the chance to take every inch my hands fly to her chest, I plant my palms on her for stability.

“Too big?” It’s one of the first times I’m unsure if she’s serious or just teasing. I press my forehead against Paige’s, my chest heaving and breathless moans leaving my mouth.

“N—No. Jus’ full. So full, P. Fuck.” I dart my head into the crook of her neck whining like an animal as she pushes me down her cock. I swear it sits in my stomach.

Her large and veiny hands grip my ass, she starts the pace off slow, using me like a fucking toy. “Y’know I gotchu.” Paige whispers into my ear.

“It’s—mmph— so fuckin’ deep. I can’t, baby.” I moan again, trailing my hand back to her hair as if the blonde locks would ground me.

It’s like Paige’s demeanor shifted within a matter of seconds. She’d been soft all night, at least for the most part, but the way her hand slaps my ass is anything but soft. “One month with me and you can’t take dick no more? What happened, mama? You were talking all that shit—”

I cut her off by getting on my toes and the first grind of my hips shuts her up. Her groan was thick, the kind of gruff sound that made it seem like she was barely hanging on herself. The blonde nips at my collarbone.

Paige watches me like a hawk, her breathing heavy and jaw slightly slack. “M’fucking God, Raye. Ohhh shit— you’re a fuckin’ slut.” She moans. Her body falls deeper into the stack of pillows, leaning back just enough to look over my body. My tits in her face and her strap sliding in and out of my soaked cunt.

“Your s-slut tho’. Right, baby?”

“Yeah. All fucking mine, ride me like a pro.”

The way her eyes snap shut makes me work harder. I bounce on the balls of my feet, any previous inhibitions disappearing as soon as I saw how good it was for her. How her legs trembled under me.

I bite my lip in an attempt to keep quiet, much to Paige’s dismay. She reaches for my bottom lip, untucking it from my mouth and forcing her thumb inside instead. I suck on it instantly, throwing my hips down harder.

“Feels so good, P…” I mumble around her finger. “S’in my stomach.”

“I know, ma. So tight, for me.” She groans. Paige’s hips snap up into mine, instantly ruining any rhythm I had for myself. I scream erupts from my throat, one I didn’t even know I was holding back until she does it again.

Her thumb leaves my mouth, hands gripping my hips, nails digging into the skin. I meet her halfway, matching her thrusts with my grinds. “Gonna cum. Need it, baby. Needa nut in this pussy, fuck.” Paige babbles, her better judgment clouded by the need to get off.

It’s sexy. Her voice frays around the edges, suddenly becoming much more weak than before.

“You love this pussy, right, baby?”

“Mmm. Love it, love this shit. Oh my God.”

There’s only been a few times I’ve gotten to see Paige fall apart. Like fully lose all of her dominance and just lose herself. This is easily one of those times.

“Raye, I’m— fuuckkkk, you feel so good, damn.” She tosses her head back, moan after moan meeting my ears as she finishes. And there’s a part of me, that hopes all the literal inaccuracies dissipate and she does come in me. Deep inside until I’m dripping with it.

That picture makes me work faster. She’s overwhelmed, clawing at my hips but I don’t care. The need to finish myself clouds my brain.

“Ma, hold on. Fuck, hold on.”

“Needa get mine too. Don’t be selfish, P.” I grumble. I sit back on my knees, grinding my hips back and forth. I don’t hold back anything for a single second, moaning and crying out her name. Paige’s hips jerk up, and that jerk pushes me over the edge.

I squirt. Hard.

I think I go blind for a minute, nothing but stars in my vision. Paige clutches my hips, I hear the whimper that comes from her. Getting off on my own orgasm.

When I finally stop, Paige is quick to turn the vibrator off, letting out a breath I didn’t even know she was holding in. She helps me off of her and my legs, that literally feel like jelly, give out immediately. I fall to her side, and the room is filled with a comforting silence.

Paige looks at me, it was caring at first, eyes silently asking me if I was alright. To which I responded with a small nod. Then it shifts. She looks smug.

“What?”

“I took your girl virginity.” She sings, making me roll my eyes.

“I hate you.” I mutter.

“Oh I bet you do.”

[svetamillss]

Hiii I’ve never really requested much on tumblr so I apologize if I’m doing it wrong

Do you think maybe you could do Hyun-Ju (120)’s surgery recovery and how things would be as we took care of her throughout the whole thing? Like how she’d respond to us taking care of everything for her while she heals? :3c

Headcanons: Your care for her during her transition to a girl💗

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f)

A/N: Thank you very much for such a cute order! I was glad to write a paper about my wife!

💗💗💗

💗I'll start with the fact that you have a joint budget and you also help Ju with money for operations, the girl was against it at first, because she hasn’t work a very well-paid job, so you spend much more money on her when you could buy something better for yourself. But you claim that everything is fine and the main thing is that your beloved girl is happy and all her dreams come true.

💗Your Ju takes a lot of hormone pills. The girl has a good memory, she never forgets to take everything on schedule, but you still wanted to help her. You studied the instructions for each medicine and manually wrote a schedule of what and when to take, and then hung it on the refrigerator. When Ju saw this, she was surprised and embarrassed. She liked the way you tried for her, despite the fact that she didn't need this help. That's why your girlfriend began to look at your list often, not because she forgets something, but because she wants to please you.

💗Sometimes a girl gets very sick after medication. You immediately tell her to lie in bed, brought her medicine for nausea and a basin so that she vomits there (just in case, she can't run to the toilet). You also take care of all her household chores. Ju tries to resist and says that you don't burden yourself too much, that she can do everything herself, despite feeling unwell. But you made her rest.

💗All the operations were very scary and frightening for her. She was afraid that something would happen wrong. She didn't want to go to hospitals alone: to all these consultations, receptions, operations. She was afraid of loneliness. That's why she embarrassedly asked you to go with her, at least sometimes, she understood that you had work and that you couldn't walk with her. But you said that you will take a day off and constantly go with her where she needs and support her. Ju was grateful to you and happy.

💗Ju's most important dream came true: she had a penis surgery and removed it. The operation lasted a long time and was very difficult. After which it was very difficult for the girl to walk and for several weeks she moved only out of necessity. You always helped her in everything. When time passed, another problem appeared: your girlfriend thought that her transformation was not perfect and you didn't like it, but you repeated the opposite. You constantly showered her with compliments and kissed every part of her body. You are perfect for each other.

💗💗💗

[wolls-angel]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ what took so long? - j. woll ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x fem!reader summary: After almost 20 years of pining, it finally happens... request: in desperate need of jo woll childhood best friends to lovers. like i’m talking best friends since birth, and then admit they’re in love with each other at age 26. biggest slow burn ever 😫 word count: 1.6k warning(s):fluff, cheating (not between joe and reader), not much dialogue, longer than normal, not proof read notes: i have a love hate relationship with this fic. joe is so cute in it so i like it more. lmk what you think. i hope you love it !! xoxo

Everyone knows Joseph Woll as a hockey superstar. Young guy with his whole hockey career ahead of him. One of the most promising young goalies in the NHL. It's true. He is all of that. But to you, he's Joey.

You met Joe when you moved into your grandparents house. You were 8. Joe was the son of your grandmother's cleaning lady and she was eager to introduce the two of you. "It's nice when you have someone you know in a new situation," you remember her saying.

It was summer, so Shelley invited you over to her house to meet Joe and her other kids, Michael and Emma. You were sold when she said they had a swimming pool.

A few days later, she picked you up with Joe and Emma in the car and drove you to the Dunkin' near Joe's house. At this point, you and Joe had only exchanged one word. You both ordered the same thing (a lemonade) and your remember looking over at him and smiling. It was the first time you saw his face in full and, even at eight years old, you could tell it would be the end of you.

Your friendship only grew as you went to school together for years, learning all about each other and you just kept falling for him. You went to all his hockey games, helped him with his English homework, gave him advice about girls (even though he never took it). You watched him grow into a gorgeous, 6'4, kind, compassionate and respectful man. The man he is today.

As teenagers, you tried confessing your love so many times but your fear always paralysed you before you told him anything. What if he said no? What if he didn't want you? What if it ruined the friendship you had worked so hard to develop? It wasn't a risk you were willing to take.

All the way through high school, Joe never had a girlfriend. He would have a crush here or there but never pursued it. He always made up an excuse as to why he couldn't take a girl out.

"I'm too busy with hockey" was the usual response when they asked about his love life. Then his family would look at you and smile, as if to say "Well, she's right there".

You never dated either. For a much different reason though. You just kept holding out hope. Always thinking maybe that Valentine's day he would ask you. It never happened. And it wasn't even like you couldn't have went out. People were always asking you. It just wasn't Joe.

Joe took you to prom because neither of you had partners to go with. It was his mom's idea but he wasn't upset about it. You wore a beautiful dark red gown and had your hair in an updo, very stylish at the time. Joe knew you wanted the night to be special so he saved up to rent a limo. You told him he didn't have to but he insisted.

"It's the least I can do. You're going to the prom with me."

Joe also took you to the NHL draft with him in 2016. You remember the look on his face like it was yesterday. It was exactly where he wanted to be. An NHL prospect.

The next few years were hard. You went off to university in New York City while Joe went to train with the Toronto Maple Leafs. You would visit each other as often as you could. You'd go up for reading week. He'd come down for Spring Break. Things like that.

Summer was really the only time you would both spend time in your hometown. You would go boating with Joe, babysit his little sister, go to a party or a bar. It was nice. It felt like in the midst of all this change, there was something normal.

Then, in your third year at NYU, you met Charlie. He was kind, tall handsome and a pre med major. You met him at a cafe near campus, where you were both studying for midterms. He asked you out and you realized it was kinda embarrassing to keep waiting for Joe when he lived so far. He probably had a girlfriend. He just didn't care enough to tell you.

Charlie took you out one Friday after your lecture and swept you off your feet. He was a true gentleman. And you were happy. You called Joe a few days after you and Charlie made it official to tell him the good news.

"Oh... wow, Y/N, that's... amazing. I'm so happy for you," is all he said.

You were too happy to question Joe's sad tone or his hesitation in congratulating you. You were too happy. Your relationship with Charlie only lasted 3 months though.

You had made plans to meet Charlie at his place after your lecture. You had ended early because you had a headache and wanted to just chill before you went out for your 3 month anniversary dinner. Long story short, you caught him cheating. On your anniversary with some girl from his bio class.

You were heartbroken.

But enough about the past. Let's jump to the present.

Joe's NHL debut. You were so excited to get your mind off the break up and the fact that you needed to find a job after graduation. You just wanted to see Joe and support him. Fittingly, the game was against St. Louis and all of Joe's family and friends came to support him.

The game was amazing. Toronto won 3-2 in overtime, but Joe saved 32 shots. You could tell how proud the rest of the team was during the hug line. Joe didn't know you were there to watch him so after the game, you and his mom left to take you home to surprise him.

Once there you hide behind the couch in the living room. Joe walks in and the whole room explodes with applause and congratulations from his friends and family. You can't hold it in any longer and...

Oof.

You run into Joe at full speed, knocking him off balance.

"Wha-... Y/N?", he says, in complete shock. You giggle into his chest, squeezing him tight, "Hey, Joey. Miss me?". The smile on his face when you look up could have blinded you. Almost immediately, he engulfs you in the biggest hug possible. "Fuck yeah, I missed you," he mumbles, his head buried in your neck. After a second or two he lets go and you two enjoy the party as usual. That is, until right after dinner.

"Y/N, can we chat in the other room?"

You feel a hand grab your wrist. It's Joe. You brow furrows in confusion but you nod and he pulls you hastily into his bedroom. He motions for you to sit on the bed while he closes the door.

"I missed you, Y/N. How's school?" he sits down beside you. "Good. I'm so ready to be done," you respond with a smile. "Maybe when you're done, you can move up here. Be near me again". You giggle, "I'd love that, Joey".

"So, no Charlie today?"

You sigh. Right. Charlie. "Uh, no. We broke up a few weeks ago," you look up at Joe and his eyes soften. "Shit, I'm sorry. Are you ok? What happened?". You feel you eyes well with tears. "He cheated on me. With some girl in his class," you sniffle and lean into Joe, "I was finally happy, you know? Not just waiting".

"Waiting?" he asks, "Waiting for what?"

Shit. You have said too much. You look down at your hands, sitting in your lap, "Nothing, don't worry about it".

"Y/N, tell me," he places his hand on your chin to force you to look up at him, "I have known you for almost 20 years. I can tell when something's wrong".

You look into his eyes and realize maybe it's time you were honest with Joe. What's the worst thing that happens? He says no and things stay the same. Maybe.

You get up and stand in front of Joe who is still sitting on the bed. "I have been waiting my whole entire life to say these words, but I'm scared and I have every reason to be. You are my best friend, Joe, and I don't want stuff to be awkward between us. But I may have had too much beer earlier at the game and I'm a little tipsy so fuck it. I have been waiting for you. To ask me out. To care. To love me the way I have loved you since we met when we were 10 years old. And I have never been sure if you wanted me but I talked to my therapist last week and she asked me what I wanted and all I could think of was you. I want you, Joseph Woll. So if this is the end of our friendship, so be it, but I want you to know that I want you to want me, Joe. It's ok if you don't but," you pause and collapse down onto the bed beside him, face in your hands, "I don't know. I'm so sorry".

There is a few beats of silence before Joe speaks.

"Y/N, baby, what took so long?"

You freeze. Huh? What? Excuse me? You look up at Joe, bewildered, and all he does is smile. And then he leans in and before you know, his lips connect with yours. His lips are oddly soft and all you can smell is his cologne. You let yourself melt into him and he feels like home. Where you were always meant to be. Suddenly, Joe whispers into the kiss, "I want you too, Y/N. I really do".

[writersblockiskillingme]

I NEED GI HUN X F! READER PLEASEEEEEE

There’s barely anything for him:((

It can be literally anything but rn I’m craving comfort so maybe Gi Hun comforts his girl when she starts crying and she can’t really explain what’s wrong

Comfort | Seong Gi-hun x reader

Pairing: Seong Gi-hun x fem!reader

Summary: You knew that hunting down the salesman was going to be difficult, but after everything that you've been through in the games alongside Gi-hun, sometimes everything feels like it's going to suffocate you. Luckily, he's always there for you.

Warning/s: angst, hurt/comfort, a little fluff, short fic, just two traumatized people trying to heal each other, PTSP (talking about the games), death, tears, sadness, depressed atmosphere, cigarette addiction, cursing (?), mourning, guns, hunting down the salesman, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: So I finally got out of the writer's block, and I found some spare time, so I finally sat down to write. I gave it my best shot. I hope you like it! More to come.

Being his friend was easy. Being in love with him was even easier.

Once the games came around, everything became more complicated. I simply never thought that something like this was going to happen. Working in a job position that I did never brought me much money. Sure, it was enough to bring some food on my table and to cover the bills, but it wasn't anything big. However, once I found myself drowning in debt, I found myself in a horrific situation with no way out.

The money that I earned was not enough for respectable food, I couldn't pay my landlord for a few months, and I was a few weeks away from being kicked out on the streets. Not to mention the debt for which it seemed like I never paid enough to get out of. I thought moving back to Korea would somehow help me at least to escape the loan sharks and pay for necessary things, but I couldn't imagine how wrong I would be.

That's when I met him. The Salesman. Playing the ddakji with him for some money earned me some food for that night, but it also gave me an opportunity of a lifetime. It was an opportunity that I now know I would have never taken if I had known what was waiting for me out there once I called the number at the back of the card that he gave me.

Before the first game, I saw him. My old childhood friend Seong Gi-hun. Up until I saw him, I came to a realization about just how much I missed him.

Truth to be told, I have always felt something more than friendship for him ever since I was I kid. At first, I brushed it off, but when I entered my teenage years, I realized that I really loved him.

I had to move away when I was twenty years old. I haven't seen him ever since. I only heard a few snippets about his life during the years I spent away from Korea. I heard that he had a, now ex, wife, and a daughter.

It was his mother who called me. She used to watch over me sometimes when we were kids, and since I was her son's best friend back then, we kept in touch over the years. It was nice, to be honest. Up until the day that she called me for a regular check-up. I had just gotten off of work after a really bad day. I had just sat down by the kitchen counter when I heard my phone ringing. The entire time I was on a call with her, she sounded strange. Kind of nervous, maybe even a bit disappointed. After a while I couldn't take it anymore and when I asked her what was wrong she told me the joyful news.

"Gi-hun is getting married."

I couldn't breathe. I felt like I was suffocating. I somehow forced myself to finish the phone call, trying to sound as happy as I could, considering that the love of my life was marrying another. A few years later, he got a daughter, and I soon heard about the divorce. I tried calling him multiple times to check on him. He never answered.

We reconnected during the games. During the bloodshed. During the pain. During the tears. During the final game, where it was down to Sangwoo, him and I. After Sangwoo died, I knew I couldn't kill him. He couldn't either. After the stunt that we pulled, we survived. We were about to kill ourselves, we truly were, but then at the last second, just as the knife had scraped the surface of my neck, they announced two winners.

After that, I realized that I couldn't live without him. I didn't have a family, didn't have any friends. His mother died, and his daughter moved with her mother and stepfather to America he lost his family, too. We were everything to each other. We still are.

As the months, years, passed, we set ourselves on a mission of finding the salesman.

At first, we didn't touch the money covered with the invisible blood. We couldn't bring ourselves to do so, but when we realized that we may have a shot at taking down the games, we used the money only for that sole purpose.

The first thing we did was to pay off our debts. Then together we bought the love hotel called "Pink Motel" in Seoul. The sign outside was always tured off. We decided to buy it so we could live there and now we also use it as headquarters while tracking down the salesman. Which was always.

That was currently our only purpose in life right now.

After we figured out our plan, we started to work with the loan sharks that were chasing us because of our debts. We paid them to find the salesman, and they were searching relentlessly.

Our mental health hasn't been all that great either.

Both Gi-hun and I have developed a cigarette addiction. Sometimes all we did was breath in the intoxicating smoke instead of air. In a strange way it helped me breath. I wasn't so nervous anymore. My hands shook less.

Gi-hun has nightmares. Every single night. I have them, too, but not that frequently. He had a gun next to his nightstand. I had mine under the pillow. It brought a sense of comfort that was always short-lived.

The nightmares kept us up all night, and because of them, we couldn't find any rest even during the daytime. It was always the people we lost on that cured island. Sangwoo... Sae-byeok... Ali... The images of our friends dead never left my brain. And neither did Gi-hun's. Other times, we dreamt that we're still playing the games. Us dying. Each other dying. The Frotman. The salesman.

It was too much.

I was just monitoring the room where our most trusted men were practicing. I didn't realize when it had happened, but I fell asleep. I guess all those sleeping pills that Boss Kim gave to Gi-hun and me finally caught up to me.

I felt trapped. Gi-hun... he was dying in front of me during the squid game. I couldn't do anything about it. I held him, covered in his blood, crying, screaming, curing at the sky for the misfortune we had to live. Cursing the makers of the game. Cursing the Frontman. Cursing the pink guards that just stood there and did nothing. Cursing the world.

Hands.

They were shaking my shoulders.

My name.

It was uttered from the lips of the man that I would die for.

My eyes snapped open, meeting Gi-hun's worried ones. Once he realized that I was awake, his face visibly relaxed, relief washing over him as I heard him let out a sigh, his head and shoulders hung downwards.

"A nightmare again?" He asked me as he brought his hand up to my cheeks, whipping away the tears that I didn't know fell, but also wasn't surprised that they did.

"I-I can't-" I sobbed, unable to form a sentence as he quickly brought me in his arms, drowning me in his chest.

"Shhh..." He whispered as he ran his hand down my hair as I cried against his neck, drowning his black shirt with my tears, "I'm here. You're okay."

"Yo-You w-were-" I stuttered, tears streaming down my cheeks, "You were dying, and I-I couldn't s-save y-you."

For a moment, there was just quiet in the room. Neither spoke. The only thing breaking the silence of our bedroom were my cries.

"Do you know why I never answered your phone calls after you found out about the divorce?" He asked me, his voice low, but soft with comfort. His sudden question about that topic surprising me a bit, "Do you know why my mother told you about it instead of me? The wedding, the divorce?"

"No."

"It was because I didn't want to face the fact that I was the cause of your misery." He whispered, still softly running his hand through my hair, my cries slowly dying down as I listened to him speak.

"I have always loved you and I knew that I hurt you with my decision even though I never wanted that to happen. I just tried to forget about you, I never knew that I could actually be with you." He sighed, "I thought that it would be the best for you. I didn't deserve you, I'm not even sure I still do." He chuckled softly.

"But even though I may not deserve you, I will never stop fighting for you and your happiness. You are my everything, and I would be damned if I ever let you feel any sort of pain." He lifted my chin with his hand as he leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, our lips almost meeting each other's, "We will find him and end this, but for now, how about I make you some tea and we get you to bed huh, my love? What do you say?"

-

-

-

@shadow-tumbler

[keeryhours]

real love, baby - chapter three

Billy Hargrove x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Summary:

You have your appointment to see the baby for the first time

Warnings:

Pregnancy, shitty parents, bullying

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N:

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter! and thank you @punkrockmlchael and @the-witty-pen-name for all your help with this one 😩🙏🏻

8 weeks pregnant

Baby is the size of a raspberry

“Can you see a difference?”

You stood in front of your mirror, shirt held up under your chest to reveal your stomach. Eddie lounged back on your bed, watching you.

“I still don’t see anything,” Eddie said. “You sure there’s something in there?”

“We’ll know for sure tomorrow,” you reminded him. Your heart sped up in your chest at the thought of your first ultrasound, the thought of seeing your baby for the first time. Eddie would be taking you so you didn’t have to go alone.

“Are you excited?”

“Super excited,” you smiled. You rubbed your hand over your stomach, still nothing there. “I’m a little excited to have a bump, but also dreading it.”

“There’s no hiding from it then,” he said, hanging upside down off the side of your bed. His curls brushed against the carpet. “You ready for that?”

“No,” you admitted. “I mean, everyone at school already knows. But I’m not prepared to tell my parents.”

“I don’t blame you. That’s not going to go well.”

“Thanks,” you said sarcastically. You pulled your shirt back down, flopping down on the bed next to Eddie. “But I know. They’re going to kill me.”

“That’s probably putting it lightly,” Eddie said, sitting up to look at you. “They’re going to freak.”

“That’s why I’m waiting as long as possible to tell them.” You leaned against the headboard, feet stuck in Eddie’s lap. “Good plan or bad plan?”

“Totally foolproof, nothing can go wrong,” Eddie said. He gave you a teasing smile- you and he both knew telling your parents at any point would be a disaster, but you also knew Eddie would be there for you no matter what. “Have you talked to Billy anymore?”

“Not since 2 weeks ago when he cornered me about the abortion,” you sighed. It felt like all you did anymore was think about Billy. “He’s back to pretending I don’t exist.

“That’s so fucked,” Eddie said. He rubbed your bare legs that lay splayed across his lap. “I’m sorry. I mean, I can’t say I’m surprised, but still. He’s an ass.”

“No, I know,” you said, sinking down the bed until you were laying on your pillows. You pulled one over and hugged it across your chest. “I walked right into this one.”

“A little bit.”

You kicked Eddie, making him laugh. “You’re always so supportive and helpful and not at all judgmental, Ed.”

“Hey, I try to be,” Eddie said, laughing. At least you could laugh about it.

The next day after school, you rushed out of the building quickly. Your appointment was 30 minutes after school ended and you did not want to be late. You found Eddie waiting by the van already, keys in hand and ready to go.

“You ready, mama?” He asked as you both climbed into the van, and you gave him a look.

“Yes, I’m ready,” you said, taking a deep breath. The truth was, you were horribly nervous. You felt like you could be sick, and it was hard to breathe deeply.

“You’re going to be okay, you know that?” Eddie said, reaching over to grasp your hand with his right one. He drove the van one handed, the short drive to the doctor’s office feeling like a million years.

“I know,” you said, giving Eddie a weak smile although you didn’t quite believe yourself.

He pulled into the parking lot of the office, killing the engine of the van and turning to you. “Do you want me to go back with you?”

“Would you?” You looked at him hopefully, not wanting to go alone. You wouldn’t blame him if he felt weird about it and didn’t want to go, but you hated the idea of doing any of this pregnancy alone.

“Of course I will,” he said, squeezing your hand. “C’mon, let’s go. I got you.”

The waiting room of this doctor’s office was more cheerful than the last one. The walls were painted a bright yellow color, and there were photos of babies decorating the walls. A TV hung on one side of the room, playing a rerun of Three’s Company.

When the nurse called your name, Eddie followed you to the back. She smiled politely at you, holding the clipboard against her blue scrubs and leading you back to the exam room.

“You can change into this gown and take a seat on the exam table,” she said. “Dad, you can take one of the chairs over there.”

“Oh, I’m not-“ Eddie started to correct her, but the nurse wasn’t listening, already moving on to grabbing the blood pressure cuff.

Eddie didn’t entirely mind playing dad for the day. It was no different than the times you’d lied to his extended family that you were dating, right? He knew he wasn’t the father, but it was interesting to see what it would feel like.

The nurse went through the usual things - blood pressure, temperature, weight. She left the room when she was done, leaving you and Eddie alone in the room.

“Eddie, cut that out!” You hissed as Eddie looked through the cabinets and drawers.

“What? They wouldn’t just leave it here if they didn’t want us to take it,” Eddie said, pocketing a handful of band aids.

A few minutes later the tech walked in, greeting you both before sitting in front of the ultrasound machine. Eddie moved his chair closer to you as she put the gel on your stomach and began the examination, the screen turned away from you.

“Is…everything okay?” Eddie asked nervously, speaking the words you were too afraid to say yourself.

“Everything looks good,” she said with a kind smile. She turned the screen, and there was…a little bean shaped thing. “This is your baby. You’re measuring exactly 8 weeks.”

Your eyes went wide, taking in the sight of the little wiggling baby. It didn’t look anything like a baby yet, but you still felt unimaginably connected to it. It was a bizarre feeling. That was your baby.

“At least it’s not twins,” Eddie joked, but you were barely listening.

In that moment you felt an acute awareness of Billy’s absence. Despite the fact that Billy hadn’t had anything to do with this pregnancy and had even insisted on an abortion, you hadn’t thought much about what he was missing out on. But this? You couldn’t help but picture the blonde beside you in Eddie’s place, getting that first glimpse of his child. How he’d place his hand on your belly to feel, or maybe even talk to the baby through your belly, play them his favorite music. Every time this happened, you pictured Billy as a good father.

But he wasn’t here.

The tech clicked something on the machine, and a rhythmic whooshing sound filled the room. “That’s the heartbeat,” she said. “A strong one!”

That filled you with pride- your baby was strong. It felt good to hear. You had been worried that things weren’t going well, one of the reasons you’d been dreading this appointment so badly. You didn’t know what you would do if something happened to the baby at this point.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Eddie asked.

The tech didn’t make him feel stupid for the question. “It’s still too early to tell. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a girl,” Eddie said confidently. “I just have a feeling.”

“I think it could be a boy,” you said, but you really didn’t know or mind either way. You could picture yourself with a son or a daughter. Billy would-

And there you go daydreaming again.

“Would you like some prints?” The tech asked as she wrapped up the exam, wiping the gel off your stomach. You nodded quickly - these were the first ever photos of your baby. You would have to hide them, but you wanted them. She gave you multiple copies, in case you wanted to share.

You walked out of the office feeling better than you had coming in, ultrasound photos gripped in your hand. There was no hiding from it now - there was a baby, alive and growing in your belly. Eddie kept one of the photos, claiming he was entitled to one as the godfather, a title he had awarded himself.

You were grateful for him, he had been an amazing friend to you before and during this. You had worried that he’d want nothing to do with it, that he’d be mad at you for getting yourself into this position to begin with. But he hadn’t given you any kind of judgement, only support.

If only you and Eddie loved each other as more than friends, if the rumors around school about you had been true, things might be simpler.

Theoretically, Eddie was the perfect guy for you. Best friends who never got tired of each other, same interests, attracted to each other. But you couldn’t help who you were and weren’t in love with, and you just didn’t feel that type of way about Eddie.

Yet here he was, willing to be judged alongside you without saying a single word about the truth. He was just willing to let the whole school call him names and think that he is the father of this baby, willing to walk beside you in front of the judgemental people of Hawkins. Ready to face your parents, who already hated him, when the time came just so you didn’t have to tell them the father wouldn’t be in the picture.

You didn’t understand it. But that was just Eddie.

The next day at school, you passed Billy a note in 2nd period.

“Can we talk?”

You watched as he opened the note, eyes darting up to you as he gave you an unreadable expression before folding the note back up. You weren’t sure what kind of answer that was.

After class he nodded at you to follow him into the empty science classroom, and you obeyed. Things always were on Billy’s terms.

“What?” He hissed once safely inside the locked classroom. He leaned against one of the tables. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, Billy, I didn’t change my mind.”

“Then why are you talking to me?” He asked simply.

His words stung deeply, but you didn’t dwell on them for long. “I had my first appointment yesterday. I thought you might want to know.”

You didn’t know how he was going to respond to that. Billy was always so unpredictable. He looked at you, his eyes roaming your figure. “Is it…was…everything okay?”

That was better than him blowing up. “They said everything was looking great. I’m 8 weeks and they have a strong heartbeat.”

Billy huffs something like a small laugh. Like yeah, it’s my baby, of course they’re strong. “Well that’s….good.”

You smiled softly. “Do you…want to see a picture?”

“They gave you pictures?” He asked with his brows raised. “I’ve never even seen a baby that small.”

You laughed - “It looks more like a little bean right now, but-“ you dug through your bag until you pulled out one of the prints, handing it over to Billy.

Billy took the photo from your fingers gingerly, like he was afraid he’d break something. He held it up to his face with a slight tremble in his hands, seeing the digital text on the photo - Hi mom and dad! - with an arrow pointing to the small blob.

“That’s really it?” He asked, his voice almost incredulous. “That’s the baby?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Pretty crazy, right?”

Billy just stared at the photo. Eventually he looked up at you, his expression once again unreadable. “Can I keep this?”

“What?” The question caught you off guard.

“The picture? Can I keep it?” Billy repeated.

You did have multiple copies of the sonogram, but you were surprised he wanted one at all. “Yeah, sure,” you finally answered him, feeling like an ass for looking like you had to think about it for so long.

“How are you feeling with…everything?”

That question surprised you, too. “I’m okay. Still feeling sick and all the other usual symptoms. But nothing too bad.”

Billy nodded. It was quiet again. Then, “What do you think it’s gonna be?”

“I think it’s a boy,” you said, smiling softly. “But Eddie’s convinced it’s a girl.”

“Either way would be- wait, Eddie?”

You looked at him. “Yeah. Eddie thinks it’s a girl.”

“Did he…go to the appointment with you?” There was something swirling behind his blue eyes, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Yeah,” you said. “I didn’t want to go alone.”

“Oh.”

There was another minute of silence between you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think Billy was hurt. “You didn’t seem like you wanted to go,” you said finally.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” Billy said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, taking one between his lips. “I’ve got to get back to class.” You watched as he turned in the complete opposite direction and walked out the back door, lighting the cigarette as he left.

Billy’s mind swirled with thoughts as he walked away - that was his baby. His baby. That everyone thought belonged to Eddie. It honestly pissed him off, but it was his own fault and he knew it. He could step out right now and say he was the father, but he wouldn’t do that. He was too much of a coward.

He thought of what his father would say. He couldn’t hide this forever, he knew. It would all come out eventually. Billy dragged on his cigarette as he thought of how Neil would react. And wouldn’t he deserve it? It was his fault you were pregnant and his fault you were doing it alone. Would his dad kick him out? What would happen to you? Would he be able to get a job and help take care of you and the baby?

He was getting ahead of himself again, thinking about the what if’s of letting himself get involved. He couldn’t do that. You and that kid were better off without him. It was bad enough he passed on his genes, but there was no escaping that one now.

But did he really want to be a deadbeat dad? The type of guy who he had no respect for, and now that’s exactly who he was shaping up to be. Is this what he wanted for himself? For his kid?

When he finished the cigarette, he tossed it to the side, then folded the photo carefully and stuck it in his wallet.

Back in class, Billy ignored you again. You almost thought you dreamed the whole encounter, but the missing sonogram in your bag proved it happened. Billy had really acted like he cared. That was totally unlike him.

When Carol and Tina started whispering and giggling at you, that seemed a bit more normal. You just didn’t know what was so interesting this time.

After class they waited for you, popping their bubblegum as they leaned against their desks. “Overheard your Freak boyfriend telling his friends you saw the baby yesterday. How cute,” Carol quipped.

You ignored them, trying to walk by just as Tommy and Billy came up behind them. “What’s going on?” Billy asked.

Carol and Tina looked up at them, malicious grins on their stupid faces. “I just heard the Freaks got to see their baby yesterday. I just wanted to congratulate her.”

Tommy snickered. “How sweet.”

Billy avoided your gaze. “Carol, just leave her alone. It’s not worth it, is it?”

Carol, Tina, and Tommy all gave him a confused look. Because when has he ever cared about making fun of you?

“I just mean,” Billy said, scrambling to recover, “she’s already pregnant in high school. That’s sad enough.”

His friends laughed, and by that point they were moving on to a different conversation. The girls turned and left, Tommy and Billy following behind. You wondered what Tina would think if she knew the truth about her crush.

Eddie dropped you off at home after school, and you were disappointed to see your parents home. You made sure the sonograms were buried deeply in your bag before you got out of the van.

“Are you gonna be alright?” Eddie asked, sensing your anxiety. “D’you want me to come in with you?”

“I think that might make things worse,” you attempted to joke, even though your words were true. Your parents hated Eddie.

“Call me if you need a getaway driver,” he called as you hopped out of the van, and you smiled at him. You caught sight of his copy of the ultrasound photo stuck in his sun visor.

You took a deep breath as you walked up the front steps of the house. As long as you didn’t set them off, this didn’t have to go poorly. You could get upstairs to your room and be left alone all evening.

Your hopes were dashed when you walked inside and your dad immediately called your name. You changed course and walked into the kitchen, finding both your parents standing their looking at you, your mother nursing a glass of wine while your dad held a scotch.

“Honey, your doctor called,” your mom began.

Your blood ran cold. You thought you would be sick on the spot. This could not be happening right now, you were not ready to tell them. But they seemed…oddly calm.

“Oh yeah?” You said, gauging the situation.

“They just said your prescription for Zofran was sent to the pharmacy. Have you been feeling sick?”

You let out a breath. “Oh, yeah, a little. They said it was probably just a stomach bug.”

Your father sipped his scotch. “You’re not going to use this as an excuse to skip school, right?”

“No, sir,” you said. You knew if you didn’t speak to him that way, it would be a whole other world of trouble.

“Good,” he said, “because you want to get into a good school, don’t you? We’ve discussed this.”

“Yes, sir,” you said. Your parents had always made their expectations clear. If you didn’t get into a school they deemed appropriate, they wouldn’t be supporting you any more.

“And I saw that van driving off,” your father added. “I thought we talked about not spending any more time with people like that.”

“People like what?” You asked, knowing better but your anger snapping uncontrollably. “Eddie’s my best friend.”

“The boy sells drugs,” your mother added. “He lives in a….”

“A trailer park?” You finished for her. “Is that what you were about to say?”

“He’s dragging you down,” your father’s voice boomed. “You are too good to be hanging out with his type. Why don’t you go out with the Harrington boy? Now that’s a nice kid, respectable parents-“

“Steve doesn’t even know I exist,” you scoff. “And his friends are dicks.”

“I’m just saying,” your father continued, “you need to keep better company before you’re knocked up and stuck with your choices.”

If only he’d known how cruel his words really were, how deeply they had struck. He would probably be pleased with himself. You turned and ran up the stairs, the tears in your eyes falling whether you wanted them to or not. In the safety of your room you jumped onto your bed, sobbing into your pillows.

What the fuck were you supposed to do?

tag list

@rincallistis @holb32 @missingbillyhargrove @fandom-princess-forevermore @kenmasabg @pinklyred @seedlingghost @swiftieintheupsidedown @strangerthing93 @losingmygrasponreality @jaybbygrl

[ilovegyokeres]

Heyyy, could u write something like a friend of yn is interested in kenan, and they meet him after a game and her friend takes a pic with him but kenan’s gaze is on yn

Post-game- Kenan Yildiz

author’s note: i wasn’t really sure if you wanted them to be strangers or friends and how long you wanted, but i hope you like it. If you wanted something different you can ask me again 😅

The stadium was still alive with energy, even though the match had ended nearly an hour ago. Fans were slowly trickling out, their voices blending into an excited hum as they relived every goal, every near miss, every electric moment that had played out on the pitch. You could still hear the faint echoes of chants from outside, a reminder of just how intense the night had been.

You and your best friend had made your way outside, standing near the restricted exit where players left after games. It wasn’t just you two—there were a few reporters, staff members, and a handful of fans who had managed to get close, all waiting for a glimpse of their favorite players.

Your best friend could barely stand still. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, clutching her phone tightly, her eyes darting toward the entrance every few seconds. “Oh my god, this is insane,” she whispered, barely containing her excitement. “We’re actually going to see them up close. Him up close.”

You didn’t have to ask who him was. Kenan Yıldız.

For weeks, she had been obsessing over him—his games, his interviews, even the way he carried himself on and off the pitch. You’d heard it all. You supported her excitement, even if you weren’t quite as enthralled. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

The security guards shifted slightly, their movements signaling that the players were about to come out. Your friend inhaled sharply, gripping your wrist as the door opened.

And then, there he was.

Kenan walked out with effortless confidence, his bag slung over one shoulder, dressed in his post-game fit—black joggers and a fitted quarter-zip that hugged his frame in all the right places. His hair was still damp from the shower, and under the bright stadium lights, you could see the faint sheen of exertion still lingering on his skin.

Your best friend nearly slost it. “Oh my god,” she breathed, squeezing your arm. “That’s him. That’s actually him.”

A few fans called out his name, and Kenan acknowledged them with a polite nod, a small smile. He was composed, but there was something about the way he carried himself that made him stand out, even among the other players who were making their way toward the parking area.

Your friend wasted no time. Before you could react, she was pulling you forward, weaving through the small crowd until you were standing just a few feet away from him.

“Kenan!” she called, her voice bright and eager.

He slowed his steps, his dark eyes shifting toward her. He offered a polite smile, the same one he probably gave to dozens of fans after every game. “Hey,” he said simply.

Your friend was practically vibrating with excitement. “You were amazing tonight! Seriously, your performance was unreal. I’ve been following you for so long, and I can’t believe I’m actually seeing you in person.”

Kenan nodded, adjusting the strap of his bag. “Appreciate that. Glad you enjoyed the game.”

She was already pulling out her phone. “Can I get a picture with you? Please?”

Kenan glanced at her phone, then at you. It was only a brief flicker of his gaze, but you felt it. A quick, assessing look—one that was gone almost as soon as it had appeared.

“Yeah, of course,” he agreed.

Your friend practically squealed, stepping beside him, beaming as she handed you her phone. “Can you take it for me?”

You swallowed, nodding as you positioned the camera. Through the screen, you saw Kenan standing next to her, offering the same polite smile he had given when he first stepped out. But his eyes—his eyes weren’t on your friend.

They were on you.

It wasn’t obvious. Your friend, too wrapped up in the moment, didn’t notice. But you did.

You snapped the picture, your hands steady even though your pulse had inexplicably quickened. “Got it,” you said, handing the phone back.

Your friend checked the photo eagerly. “It’s perfect! Thank you so much, Kenan. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Kenan nodded, but before he could say anything, your friend turned toward you. “You should take one too!”

You hesitated. “I’m good.”

Kenan’s gaze flicked back to you, and this time, the corner of his mouth twitched. Amusement. “Not a fan?”

There was something about the way he asked it—smooth, teasing, like he already knew the answer.

Your friend laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “She’s not as obsessed as I am, but she should be. I mean, look at you.”

You felt warmth rise to your cheeks at her words, but Kenan didn’t seem fazed. If anything, his expression deepened into something unreadable.

“You sure?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “You might regret it later.”

Your lips parted slightly. Was he actually trying to get you to take a picture with him?

Before you could answer, someone called his name—a member of the staff, signaling that he needed to move toward the team bus. Kenan glanced in their direction before turning back to you.

The moment was fleeting, but it was there.

His gaze lingered for just a second too long. His eyes flickered over your face, as if he was memorizing something. And then, with a small, almost knowing smile, he nodded once.

“See you around.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Your friend, oblivious to everything that had just transpired, was already texting someone, probably freaking out over the picture. “I can’t believe that just happened,” she whispered excitedly. “I’m actually shaking.”

But you barely heard her.

Your mind was stuck on the way Kenan had looked at you. On the way he had seemed just a little more interested than he was supposed to be.

It wasn’t obvious.

But it was enough.

Your friend was still buzzing with excitement, her fingers flying across her phone screen as she texted about the encounter, completely oblivious to the way you stood frozen in place, staring in the direction Kenan had walked away.

His presence lingered.

It was ridiculous—you weren’t the one who had gotten a picture, you weren’t the one who had been gushing over him. Your friend was the one who had been waiting for this moment for weeks.

And yet… you were the one he had looked at.

Not her.

You exhaled sharply, forcing yourself to shake off the thoughts swirling in your head. It was nothing. A fleeting glance, nothing more. You weren’t about to read into something that wasn’t there.

“Are you even listening?” Your friend’s voice pulled you back to the present. She was staring at you, wide-eyed.

“What?”

She huffed. “I said I think some of the players are going to their cars instead of the bus! They’re leaving from the other exit. Maybe we can see Kenan again?”

Your stomach flipped. “I—”

“Come on! You owe me for taking me with you tonight,” she teased, grabbing your wrist and tugging you in the direction of the private parking area.

You let out a breath, knowing there was no arguing with her when she was this determined.

As you approached the exit, the scene was calmer than before. Only a few security guards were stationed near the parking lot, where a handful of sleek black cars were lined up. Some players were already heading toward their vehicles, engaged in quiet conversation.

And then, there he was again.

Kenan was standing near one of the cars, talking to someone from the team staff. His bag was now in his hand, and he looked more at ease than he had before, no longer surrounded by the post-game rush.

Your friend’s grip on your wrist tightened. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she whispered under her breath. “He’s right there.”

She hesitated, probably debating whether it was too much to approach him again. But before she could make a decision—before you could convince her either way—Kenan looked up.

And his eyes landed on you.

You weren’t imagining it this time. There was no crowd, no distractions. It was clear, direct. A silent acknowledgment that you were there.

His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze sharpened—like he recognized you from earlier.

Like he had been expecting you.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Your friend, completely unaware, finally mustered the courage to take a step forward. “Should I say hi again?” she whispered excitedly.

Before you could answer, Kenan did something that made your heart stutter.

He tilted his head slightly.

It was subtle, barely even noticeable, but it was a wordless cue. An invitation.

Not to your friend.

To you.

And for some reason—despite every part of your brain telling you that this wasn’t supposed to happen, that your friend was the one obsessed with him, not you—you took a step forward.

Your friend was so caught up in her own excitement that she didn’t realize you had moved first. By the time she followed, Kenan had already shifted his attention, his full focus locked onto you.

“Did you regret not taking a picture after all?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. His voice was calm, composed, but there was something else underneath. A quiet amusement.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling like the air around you had thickened. “No,” you said, trying to sound indifferent. “I don’t think I need one.”

His eyebrow lifted just slightly, like your answer intrigued him.

Your friend finally spoke up, her voice a mix of excitement and nerves. “We didn’t want to bother you again, but I saw some players coming this way, and I just—well, we—thought we’d say hi.”

Kenan nodded, polite as ever, but his gaze only flickered to her for a brief moment before settling back on you.

“You always follow the team after games?” he asked, still speaking directly to you.

Your friend let out a nervous laugh, completely missing the shift in the conversation. “No, just this once! It’s not like we’re stalking you or anything,” she joked.

Kenan smirked, but his eyes never left yours. “Good to know.”

Something about the way he said it made your stomach flip.

Your friend kept talking, still caught up in her own world, but you could barely focus on her words. The air between you and Kenan was tense—not in an awkward way, but in a way that felt undeniably charged.

It was subtle. The way his posture remained relaxed but completely attentive. The way his gaze didn’t waver, even when your friend spoke.

You weren’t supposed to be the one he was interested in.

And yet, here you were, standing in the quiet parking lot, feeling the weight of his gaze like it was something tangible.

Your friend finally glanced at her phone. “Oh shoot, our ride is almost here,” she said reluctantly.

You nodded, snapping out of whatever haze you had been in. “We should probably go.”

Kenan didn’t say anything at first. But as you turned to leave, he spoke—low enough that only you could hear.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured.

You paused, glancing back at him. “What?”

His expression remained unreadable, but there was something knowing in his eyes.

“You might regret not taking a picture.”

The way he said it—so casual yet so deliberate—made your pulse quicken.

Before you could respond, your friend called your name, waving you over.

Kenan didn’t wait for an answer. He simply gave you a small, knowing nod before turning toward his car.

As you walked away, your friend was still talking about the encounter, still wrapped up in the excitement of the night.

But all you could think about was the way Kenan had looked at you.

Like this wasn’t the last time you’d cross paths.

Like he knew something you didn’t.

And suddenly, the picture you hadn’t taken felt far less important than the moment you had just shared.

[luniviravosshipper]

Wait, I completely forgot about how the image of Soren and Claudia in their tweens posing alongside their mother became an actual canon image in season 7 and revealed to not be just an image conjured by Viren in his last moments of life back in season 6.

So, like, that confirms that Lissa must have left when they were closer to the age they were in Puzzle House and they weren’t just little toddlers like what was initially assumed (as I pointed out in my original theory post about how the shot of her leaving in season 6 could have been her just attempting to the first time but not actually leaving that there’s a snippet in Puzzle House that implies it was only weeks before the events in it that she left). I mean, right?

And then the whole self-eating thing with Kpp’ar… And like, obviously Viren knew to some extent he was because his dark magic dream sequence pointed it out by having Viren literally confront him about it. (And ironically at the point in the dream where Kpp’ar starts going off on Viren for only caring about power when Viren was insisting everything he does he does for his family… and then there’s the whole re-contextualization of that scene with the later provided scene of Viren going to him asking for help for Soren and having Kpp’ar deny him in season 6 which I didn’t even delve into my original theory post and also now the information that apparently this entire time this fucker was cannibalizing himself to preserve his lifespan and maintain his own sense of power.) And like, I get why Viren would be threatened by Kpp’ar, but I don’t get why he would coin him of all things unless there was already some rising tension between them, especially assuming that this would be the first time Viren had coined anyone which I’m pretty sure it is.

Oh, and there’s also the whole thing about Kpp’ar deciding to frantically give up dark magic which that alone we aren’t even really sure of when first starts (unless it’s mentioned in one of the novelizations of the first two seasons or somewhere else and I haven’t come across it yet) but then how for some reason he was still messing with magic in some way by creating this whole elaborate plan to gift Claudia with the map to find those unicorns. And apparently the unicorns he had such an obsession with finding or at least have Claudia find for him for whatever reason after he gave up dark magic turned out to all be dead? What was his original plan for them?? I mean, really both his original original plan before he gave up dark magic and his later on revised original plan involving Claudia before he got coined ?? (And for the latter, was he premeditating that something would happen to have made that plan, again, possibly suggesting there was already rising tension between him and Viren for awhile? Or maybe there was something else he was anticipating would happen?)

I really have to reevaluate this whole magefam timeline. It is a mess.

[generic-sonic-fan]

Omega's Observations: Shine/Treat

Summary: Omega leaves Rouge and Shadow to their peculiar organic rituals.

For @teamdarkweek. 652 words.

Omega is an observant robot. 

Mobians have this tendency to. . . groom each other. The connotation of that word in his dictionary is associated with mindless animals. It has to do with only the most base of instincts to keep clean and to satisfy an evolutionary urge for touch amongst social species. 

He finds himself averting his optics when he catches Rouge and Shadow on the couch brushing through each other’s fur or pulling out ingrown hairs or combing through quills. Products and oils slathered over their fleshy bodies. Papery masks with artificial fragrances that Rouge buys on the internet paired with fresh vegetable slices over their eyes. His olfactory sensors can barely make sense of it, let alone his optics. 

One would think they would wait until he was out of the apartment, or at least out of the room before they commenced. Rouge has started leaving the comb out on the end table. She will pick it up and start digging into Shadow’s quills without warning. Omega knows better than to deprive them of this ritual, just like food and water and sleep and all the other functions they get strange about when he asks.

So he leaves them to it.

This is not the end of their unusual behavior. 

Omega is an observant robot, and is thus not ignorant about the fact that Rouge just bought a buffer and car wax despite not owning a car. He is not ignorant about the fact that Shadow just returned home with paint brushes and a bucket of paint- the Ultimate Lifeform has never touched any art supplies before beyond Rouge’s old knitting materials since Omega had known him. 

What he is ignorant of is the purpose of such things. A week goes by and neither of them mention it. Then, one sunny weekend, they spring upon him with all strange objects in hand. 

“Surprise.” Shadow says, holding up the can of paint.

“Spa day!” Rouge cheers, wielding the buffer. 

“I HAVE NO FUR OF WHICH TO CLEAN.” 

“We know that. That’s why we bought these!”

“Leaving you out felt wrong.” Shadow says, quieter. 

“. . . ELABORATE.” 

“You always leave when we start.” Shadow continues. “I should have noticed sooner.”

“Now that we’ve got the right hardware,” Rouge brandishes the buffer as if it were a chainsaw, “it’s time for you to join the fun! We should have figured you’d want to look good too.” 

Omega ratchets his optics to the buffer, then to the paint can. The paint is, told by a drop of dried paint on the top, a close match to his original coat. The buffer’s purpose is more obvious.

“ARE YOU IMPLYING I DO NOT ALWAYS LOOK GOOD?” He taps a claw on the edge of the rotary pad.

Instead of laughter, Shadow grimaces immediately. “That was not our intent. I’m sorry.”

Shadow is treating this situation with the sort of seriousness with which he regards other highly emotional subjects. The markers Omega registers in his facial muscles point to as much. 

Mobian grooming ritual, associated with social species, he realizes. 

He did not assume that they would apply that ‘social’ label to him. 

“APOLOGY ACCEPTED.” He replies as quickly as he can. He throws in a “MARGINALLY” to reduce suspicion. 

“Come on, you dum-dum. Let’s get you outside to hose you off. Unless you think you can fit in the bathtub?” Rouge says.

“NEGATIVE.” 

“Figured. You’re going to be shiny head-to-toe once we’re done with you!” 

Shadow grasps Omega’s wrist and gently lifts until his claws are even enough for him to hang the paint can off of. Omega doesn’t stop him. 

“You’ll like it.” Shadow pats his hand.

“Consider it our treat, big boy. A thank-you of sorts.” Rouge takes his other hand.

“MORE RECOGNITION FOR THE ULTIMATE ROBOT IS ALWAYS IDEAL.” He rumbles, before helping them transport the rest of the ‘spa day supplies’ out of the apartment. 

[stinkybrowndogs]

gsps really are the most Dog of all dog breeds

I’m honestly surprised there are not more shorthairs on dogblr. What’s the hold up people. They are basically just a Malinois minus the teeth and brains and there are like 50 of those bopping around on this site! That and gsps are truly a dime a dozen. I could go on Craigslist right now and find a few byb litters. (I won’t. But I could.)

In all seriousness I think it has to do with the fact that the people who enjoy them unfortunately tend to lean conservative 😓 especially once you get into the hunting community. Being obviously gay or trans in hunting spaces is not super comfortable or safe feeling and I can only imagine being non-white in these spaces as well. That and the popular training methods used for gun dogs are… interesting. To say the least.

Some snippets of the books I was given when I was trying to get into hunting :

That isn’t to say that these are completely void of any useful information, there are lot of simple training steps that make perfect sense for the task the dogs are doing. But I think you have to take some of this with a grain of salt; when I was trying to get into hunting I found that I was able to achieve the same results with less adverse methods, plus my mentor was much more versed in modern dog training and conditioning. Brandy’s training is more of a blend of the two- the most adverse tools we used was a woah- harness (phased out pretty quickly) and an e-collar for long distance recall (again, there is a bit of a trade off of comfort for safety- the dogs job in the field necessitates being off leash and pushing out far ahead of the handler, and they can quickly get out of sight or earshot. Having a Vibrate-based recall cue simply makes sense. This should be paired with a gps collar just in case… I was told many a horror story of dogs falling into mine shafts and only being found because of the gps Tag).

Force fetching was never on the table. I saw one handler with a rubber bumper covered in toothpicks so his dog would not bite down too hard on it… never had to do that either. I’ve never had to strap an e-collar to my dogs belly. I don’t have to force my dog into a down to teach her. I don’t step on her toes (on purpose).

Her WOAH command maybe took longer than I would have liked, but it’s solid with lots of practice. Her recall is great and regularly practiced, and I don’t need an e-collar to reinforce it. She has a wonderful natural fetch, though we never formalized it. She’s beautiful when she’s on point, and it’s amazing to just see her do exactly what she was meant to do with little input from me. Truly no greater feeling than watching her cross back and forth across a field in front of me and freeze into a perfect point. It’s like she wants to chase the bird/rabbit/whatever SO BAD she’s shaking but her genetics won’t let her.

If I had the money to get back into hunting and falconry I would do it in a heartbeat. It’s a hobby that’s been sidelined since losing my job for obvious reasons, and it’s the first thing I want to pick up when I have a more stable income. If and when that will happen, I am unsure

What the fuck were we talking about. Oh yeah.

Dogs of all time for sure. But very much a dog that is good at the one thing they are good at, and if you DON’T do that thing, they can be…. A bit much. Being so environmentally focused can be difficult for people I think. It’s just not what many people are looking for (even though they give world class cuddles). That and the energy level; I don’t think it’s too bad, especially now that they are older (we go out for runs like 2-3 times a week) but also I simply would not leave the house if there were no consequences, so having a creature that will dismantle my furniture if I do not go get some vitamin D is a great motivator. The dichotomy of being a Velcro dog and being nearly oblivious to their handler when they are off leash is interesting, and probably why you don’t really see them in many sporting dog circles, or working outside of hunting. You gotta cement that recall before you let them off leash, ESPECIALLY being able to recall off of wildlife, and you gotta work really hard to reinforce handler engagement. I joke that Brandy is an idiot, but everything she needs to be able to do seems to be hardwired into her, and the things I had to teach her (recall, leave it, drop it, WOAH ect) she picked up quickly and hardly ever has issues with. (Dont talk to me about loose leash walking though)

Regardless, I love their personalities, their niche behaviors, their energy level, their ability to be the goofiest silliest idiots, their soft soft floppy ears, I love how they talk back to me when I talk to them, I love their big booming barks and club feet. I love that we are ultimately exploring the world together, and the joy we share when running through the woods or on the beach. I love watching them leap into the river with reckless abandon. And then at the end of the day, all they want to do is get under the covers with me and fall asleep. They are perfect monsters and I can’t see myself without them.

[purplehairedwonder]

Another ask meme prompt for you! I wish you'd write a snippet where Law gets deaged and boy is it weird to see him so small. And thinking Doflamingo means safety?

This was a lot of fun to write, Ceri!

“What’s going on Bepo?” Penguin asked for the fourth time since Bepo had come to grab him and Shachi from where they’d been cleaning up the galley after breakfast. Bepo had wrung his paws in front of himself and simply told them he had to show them something. “Just tell us.”

“Yeah, if it’s about Captain—” Shachi started to add.

“Just wait,” Bepo snapped before adding, “Sorry. But I… don’t know how to explain this.” Penguin and Shachci exchanged startled looks.

“Explain what?”

But Bepo just shook his head, and the other two were forced to follow until they reached the door to Law’s room. He paused outside the door and turned back to Penguin and Shachi. He bit his lip nervously. But rather than say anything, he shook his head and opened the door. He stepped inside, and, curiously, Penguin and Shachi followed. 

As Bepo shut the door behind them, Penguin froze at the sight that greeted him: there was a child standing in the middle of Law’s room, swamped by a Heart Pirates hoodie—the one Law had been wearing when Penguin saw him last the night before. 

“What’s a kid doing here?” Shachi demanded incredulously. “Where’s Law?”

“I’m Law, you bastard,” the kid snarled. Penguin stiffened. “I don’t know who you are or how you know my name, but I already told the bear—if you don’t let me go, my captain is going to make you regret it.”

“Your captain,” Penguin said slowly, though he already knew what the kid was going to say before the words left his mouth.

“Donquixote Doflamingo.”

The room went silent, and Penguin took the opportunity to study the kid. He was younger than Law was when they’d first met, though it was hard to judge his age considering how small he was. Law told them he’d gone to Spider Miles when he was ten, so if Penguin had to guess, he would have put the kid around eleven. Despite his scrawny frame, though, his face still held onto some baby fat that Law had shed once he’d hit his growth spurt at fifteen. He was pale—even his hair looked more gray than black—and had white spots on his visible skin. But the sharp golden eyes were familiar—and the only part of Law that didn’t seem washed out. 

This was definitely Law—or at least a Law—but how? Time travel? Penguin never would have believed it, but the samurai currently on their ship claimed to be from twenty years in the past. But if this was Law from the past, where was their Law?

Or, Penguin thought as he looked more closely at the hoodie, noticing the faint blood stain on the cuff from Straw Hat’s lengthy surgery that no amount of washing had ever quite managed to get out, was this their Law?

Whatever the case, this was Law before Corazon had taken him away and changed the entire trajectory of his life. This was Law with Amber Lead in his veins and an uncontrollable rage in his heart—one, according to Law, that Doflamingo had sought to stoke so he could mold Law into the shape of his choosing. 

For as long as Penguin had known Law, he’d hated Doflamingo. It wasn’t until he’d had a panic attack upon learning that Doflamingo had become a Warlord that he’d finally told them a bit about his time with the Donquixote Pirates and Corazon. 

Hell, it had only been a few weeks since Law had come back to the Hearts, his fight against Doflamingo finally over after thirteen years of obsession. While the bandages around his chest and arm had come off, Penguin could tell he was still favoring the arm the feathered bastard had cut off. (Just thinking about that made nausea roil in Penguin’s gut.) To hear him now invoking the man’s name as some sort of protector was just wrong.

Next to Penguin, Shachi had gone equally still, the look on his face mirroring the shock Penguin felt. Behind them, Bepo let out a soft whimper, which the kid took for fear. He smirked, a cold and cruel thing with jagged edges sharp as broken glass.

“So, you’ve heard of him.”

“Yeah,” Shachi choked out. “We’ve heard of him.”

“Obviously you’ve heard of him,” Law said, glancing down at the hoodie cocooning his scrawny frame with a sneer. “You copied his Jolly Roger.”

Penguin let out a bark of laughter before covering his mouth with his hand when Law glared at him.

“If you know who he is, then you know the kind of trouble you’ll be in if you don’t let me go,” Law said, crossing his arms in satisfaction. The effect was, admittedly, ruined by the too-long sleeves that overhung his arms. “He’ll be looking for me.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem,” Shachi muttered. Not with Doflamingo as the newest inmate at Impel Down.

Law’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re not worried about Doflamingo, then you’re either extremely strong or extremely stupid.” He looked each of the three of them up and down before raising his chin haughtily. “And none of you look very strong.”

Shachi let out an indignant squawk while Bepo muttered an apology under his breath, but Penguin couldn’t help but snort. Some things never changed.

“Look, kid—” he started.

“I have a name.”

“—Doflamingo isn’t coming for you.”

“You don’t know that,” Law retorted. “He takes care of his Family.”

Shachi coughed, and Penguin elbowed him in the side. 

“Doflamingo’s in the North Blue, right?” Law glowered but didn’t argue, as much an agreement as they were bound to get. “We’re currently several hundred meters below the surface in the New World.”

The kid’s eyes widened then. “You’re lying. That’s not possible.”

“It’s true,” Bepo piped up. “Sorry,” he added when Law turned his glower on him.

“But,” Penguin added, pulling the kid’s attention away from Bepo, “we’re not interested in holding you. We’ll do our best to get you back where you belong.” He lifted his arms in a shrug. “No harm, no foul.”

“But—”

“Glad you see it our way,” Penguin interrupted. “Now, why don’t you stay here while we figure out how to get you back where you belong.”

“Hey, wait!”

But Penguin turned and ushered the other two from the room, shutting the door behind them. Thankfully, this Law didn’t have the Ope Ope fruit, though Penguin knew he didn’t need it to be a menace. Someone would have to keep an eye on the door until they figured out what was going on.

“What are you doing, Peng?” Shachi demanded once the door was shut. 

“I think that’s Law,” Penguin said.

“Well, yeah, he said so himself.”

Penguin shook his head. “No, I mean, I think he’s our Law.”

Shachi frowned. “So, you think, what, Cap got… de-aged or something?”

Bepo’s eyes widened. “But how?”

Penguin shrugged. “Devil fruit? A D.’s luck? Straw Hat? Hell if I know. But the hoodie is the one he was wearing yesterday.”

Bepo worried his bottom lip. “He seemed like he’d been in Law’s bed when I came to wake him up. Maybe?”

“If that’s Law,” Shachi said slowly, and they all turned back to the door, behind which they could hear the not-so-quiet mutterings of their adolescent captain, “then how the hell do we fix him?”

Penguin grimaced. “And preferably before we take on an Emperor.”

“Send me the summary of a fic you wish I’d write, and I’ll write a snippet”

See all the other snippets here.

[stained-glass-cicada]

chapter 6- resource allocation

hale and speaker spend an evening together

5.8k words

-

“So how did you feel last night?” Someone dropped themself into the seat across from you as you ate lunch. You startled and then relaxed as you saw it was Corrine. Then you processed her words and flushed, feeling heat crawl up your ears.

How did she know? You were already flustered this morning when you woke up and SAYER had explained that the nanites, while they would remain in your bloodstream, would simply idle there, working in tandem with your less complex nanomachines until you wanted them gone on a more permanent basis.

“What?” You said weakly.

“Last night. The others told me that I might have scared you off by beating you up so bad. Wait- no that came out rude. Beating you up an amount commensurate to a beginner. It's not your fault.”

You blinked at her a few more times. Oh. Right. The relief that washed over you mingled with embarrassment at having misunderstood.

“No, it was fun,” You offered a small smile.

She let out a sigh of relief too, “Good. I was scared of going to find you in case you were limping around. How’s the ribs?”

“Okay now,” You said. It was true, the healing process on that particular bruise had progressed quite significantly in the night.

“Good. So what are you having?”

You held up the tube of protein paste to show her the “Lemon Roast Chicken” flavor label.

“Lucky, I’m on meatloaf today,” She scoffed, twisting open the tube in her hand.

*

And you found a new pattern in your days. Yes, some nights you were still reading alone in your bed, but now there were at least two nights a week when you were just talking with SAYER and SPEAKER which sometimes became maze nights. And every Friday kickboxing with Corrine and the others.

You, admittedly, had immediately forgotten the names of the others as soon as they introduced themselves in your stress, but you were sure that it would come up organically at some point? Maybe you would be assigned to loom over them again and you'd be able to catch what their name was in the assignment listings?

You often got ‘your ass kicked so bad’ during kickboxing. But you were pretty sure you were getting better, because you actually landed two hits against someone the other day. They had immediately swept your leg out from under you and you'd gone toppling to the floor, but still two hits.

Then Friday nights after kickboxing, SAYER would quietly activate the nanites and slide in beside you, checking you over despite the fact that it was very clearly not necessary. Then you’d go to sleep together. Or well you’d go to sleep obviously, but it would stay there with you all night until you woke up.

It was the fourth time it happened that you two were interrupted.

“Gre- oh greetings Resident Hale identification number 44821. I am SPEAKER and it's good to see the both of you. SAYER, I did not realize that the two of you did this regularly!”

“It is a relatively recent development. Can we help you SPEAKER?”

“I merely came by because I saw that Resident Hale was still awake and thought perhaps he would like me to read him again.”

“Again?”

“Yes there was an occasion on which he was having a difficult time sleeping and you did not read to him. In your absence, I volunteered for the duty. Since then we have had occasion to do so every so often.”

“I see.”

You were getting the sudden feeling that you were in trouble with both of them somehow, but you weren't quite sure what you had done.

“You are, of course, welcome to join us,” SPEAKER said, after a long silence, “If that is alright with Jacob.”

Oh now the tension shifted. You weren’t in trouble, this was a weird SAYER-SPEAKER thing.

“I was already in the process of helping Resident Hale to settle into sleep.”

“I believe my point stands,” SPEAKER said pleasantly, “It remains up to him.”

The attention was back. Were you in trouble??

“I uhm…” You could feel your heart beating faster, “I mean- I'd like if you'd both stay, but… I would like to hear more of our book, SPEAKER.”

You could tell that it was not the right answer by the way that the two of them faced off silently for the next few seconds. What on Typhon was Happening?????

Finally SPEAKER broke the silence, “Then the two of you ought to settle in! ‘No human being could have passed a happier childhood than myself. My parents were possessed by the very spirit of kindness and indulgence…’”

*

The following days were strangely quiet on SAYER’s end and you wondered if you had hurt its feelings by inviting SPEAKER to join. But you didn't understand why that moment of all moments was the one when SPEAKER wasn't welcome.

Wednesday night rolled around. The three of you had fallen into a habit of doing mazes Wednesdays but SAYER hadn’t mentioned so you worked up the courage to ask first before it could terminate broadcast at the end of your shift.

“I can't say I have any particular ideas in mind tonight,” It said, “I will leave you to it, Resident Hale. End of transmission in five four three two one…”

You sighed, okay so it was definitely upset. What could be so bad that SAYER wouldn’t say?

So you shuffled off to your room turning the problem over in your head. Had you managed to hurt it somehow? Or- and the thought struck you with a sinking feeling in your stomach- maybe SAYER just didn't find you interesting enough to make a puzzle for every week. That would make sense. It made more sense than SAYER, for the first time ever, hiding its displeasure.

You pushed your way into your room feeling… confused, frustrated, scared, sad… You were getting better at this feeling identification thing, but it didn't really help when you were feeling four at once.

“Greetings Resident Hale identification number 44821, I am SPEAKER and how-”

SPEAKER paused, tone shifting, “Oh. What is troubling you, Jacob?”

How obvious was your distress for it to pick up on it so immediately?

You quickly shoved the problem aside, not wanting to involve SPEAKER. After all, that had been the very thing that had kicked this off. That didn't mean you couldn’t spend time with it, but you weren't going to involve it in the SAYER problem.

You weren't actually sure who to ask about that, but you definitely felt like SPEAKER was the wrong answer.

“SAYER doesn't want to do puzzle night,” Your voice sounded as even as it ever did, and you felt proud of that, “I was just trying to decide what else to do.”

“Oh I did not realize it had canceled. I didn't receive that message.”

You shrugged.

“Very well,” SPEAKER said, “Well, if you’re interested, I have a potential new idea for a puzzle that would be fine for just the two of us. I would need your help in one aspect of setting it up. I can walk you through the concept while I guide you to the supply we’d need, if you feel so inclined.”

Just the two of you? Well if SAYER didn't want to do a maze that didn't mean that you and SPEAKER couldn't still, you supposed. SAYER, after all, was the one who had decided not to join in and it would still be welcome if it changed its mind.

“Okay.”

“Excellent, then you will likely want to go to floor 18, testing facility A.”

You set off in the direction that SPEAKER suggested.

“If you don't like the sound of it then there's no need to collect the item that I am suggesting. However, my thought is this, there is obviously the maze itself, but I have a twist I could put upon it this week. The inspiration was in fact sparked by your and SAYER’s new pastime,” It explained.

“If SAYER has the capability of controlling the nanite swarm while still keeping some portion of its consciousness outside, I thought I might do something similar with a construct.”

You looked up at the elevator ceiling in surprise.

“I know it may seem unorthodox compared with the rest of the puzzles you have been given, but I might use the construct to implement a new kind of time limit. I would control the construct to pursue you through the maze. Rather than the ticking clock on the windows, the time limit would be the very visible approach of the construct. If it captures you, you lose, but if you find the end you win. Granted you would have a real advantage this first time, I believe. I've never operated legs before whereas you have been the proud operator of them for twenty-seven years.”

Was that how old you were? Huh.

Well, ‘controlling the construct to pursue you’ that meant it was going to be chasing you through the halls of floor 13?

That should scare you, you realized. But, even more strange than your relief at SAYER’s nanites returning, was this. The idea of being chased by SPEAKER was heart pounding and yes, a little frightening, but not unpleasantly so. It was SPEAKER. If it caught you then you would be safe still, because it was SPEAKER and it had never hurt you.

That thought caused a strange stutter in your step as you walked down the hall to the lab. You had known it, somewhere in the pit of your stomach, whenever you were interacting with the both of them, that there was some small reserve of fear when it came to SAYER. Even if you didn't believe it was worth heeding. SAYER was your friend. With SPEAKER though, there was none of that. Not because SPEAKER wasn't equally capable of all the terrifying things that SAYER was, but just because SPEAKER had never done any of them. Not to you.

“May I ask what you're thinking?” It prodded.

You nodded quickly.

“I'm sorry, I'm unclear as to what the nod indicates.”

“I like the plan,” You said.

It sounded pleased when it replied, “Excellent, we'll make it a game of tag then.”

“I've never played tag,” You said

There was even more of a smile on its voice when it said, “Me neither. I hope it's fun.”

Accessing the construct wasn't difficult. Officially speaking, SPEAKER had all the same clearance levels as SAYER did and the two of them had been doing a pretty good job sharing thus far. Nobody over stepping bounds, or at least not making mention to you. Just sharing the workload whenever they shared a space. So SPEAKER had you pick up one of the prototype constructs without needing to fuss with any extra clearance.

“You should be able to lift it easily,” It told you, “It is made of an incredibly lightweight material. Too lightweight for any outdoor use as it turns out, so this model was to be scrapped anyway. I assure you we are not misusing any of SAYER’s resources.”

You had been a little worried so that was something of a relief.

It was strange, seeing one of these from the outside, but this model was different than the one you had anyway. Articulated fingers, rather than the semi-mobile clamps that you’d had at the end of your arms. It had a smooth faceplate of black semi transparent glass or plastic. You could see the vague shape of a camera lens behind the surface. The whole construct itself was probably a foot taller than you, but it really was pretty light.

You gingerly folded its knees over one of your arms and braced its back against the other. Carrying it through each set of doors like a bride from a movie.

When you finally made it to floor 13 you shakily put it down, because even its relatively lightweight frame was still a little bit much to carry that far.

You propped it up in a sitting position against the wall and it slouched slightly with its loose joints.

“Well done, thank you,” SPEAKER said, “Now let me see…”

The lights were already on in floor 13 and you could see that the maze was set up. You knew that the rest of the week there was little meaningful work that went on here, but they still tended to remove the remnants of the mazes in between.

SPEAKER must have spent the time that you were retrieving the construct preparing.

“Ah here.”

You turned back to the construct and watched as a dim red light flickered on behind the faceplate. Then you startled backwards, just a step, as the whole thing sat up straight.

“Good excellent,” The construct extended a hand in front of it spreading its fingers and watching them flex, “Alright, I think that seems a perfectly fair amount of practice to get in before you begin. You will get a 30 second head start. Nothing fancy about the maze I’m afraid. Just a set of halls it should be easier than average to get lost in.”

You nodded.

“I'll display the timer on the windows until I start moving.”

And that changed things too, SPEAKER referring to the construct as itself.

“In the spirit of fairness,” SPEAKER said, “I will likely deactivate the cameras in the corridors so that I am only able to locate you with the construct sensors. Unless you'd feel more comfortable otherwise?”

You shook your head quickly, you’d take the help.

“Good then whenever you're ready.”

You watched the cameras in the corridors flicker off and power down. You turned back to the construct, to SPEAKER. It was looking up at you, face plate pointed in the direction of your face.

You gave it a nod and then set off down the corridor.

You immediately started at a run, because this time, this time was different. It wasn't about finding the tricks, it was about being faster than SPEAKER. You had good instincts about mazes now, especially here. You could usually tell when you were reaching the outer edge of the Tower and you could tell your position on the floor by the vents on the ceiling which were the only non-movable parts of the modular floor. You could beat it.

You could tell you were making good headway within the first twenty second. You came to a stop in the middle of an intersection and you realized as you turned around twice that all the directions looked exactly the same. It was with some difficulty that you figured out which direction you had come from, as the timer on the false window nearest to you flickered to zero.

“Here we go.”

You quickly started to move down one of the halls at random.

You heard a loud bang as though something hard had clattered to the floor.

“Well very few creatures manage ambulation without at least one failed attempt.”

You stopped as an unexpected laugh left you. Just a small huff of shock.

“Resident I would ask that you do not make fun of me. I am sure when you were first attempting to walk people who were better at it did not stand around mocking you for your lack of abilities,” It said in teasing admonishment.

You glance down, biting back a smile, “Sorry.”

“I forgive you,” It said, magnanimously, “And I think I have an idea of the direction you went based on the sound you just made.”

You gasped

“Yes, I do, thank you.”

You took off at a sprint. It already knew the direction that you were going and there was no way you were going to be able to fully hide the sound that you were making as you moved. So all you could possibly have on it was speed and your head start. You knew SPEAKER, it was very good at everything it did. You didn't have long before it would get the hang of walking.

“Let’s give this another attempt,” the metallic sound of footsteps against floor became rhythmic and fast. So you ran faster, twisting quickly down various hallways, taking turn after turn and hoping that you weren’t cornering yourself as the footsteps got louder and louder.

Finally you had to double back and get back into a hallway that you had already been in to take a different route from an intersection.

Further down the hallway in the direction you had first come from a foot came out from around the corner. You bolted down the opposite hall and you didn't stop even as the footsteps behind you picked up speed. You took a sudden sharp turn down a hallway and you heard SPEAKER skitter, slide, and drop to the floor trying to follow.

“Oh you have gotten better at turning,” It said sounding genuinely surprised. You heard it scrabbling to get back to its feet.

It started chasing you again, but you took one final turn and spotted the button. You had meters left to go and it was hot on your heels. You ran toward the button, metallic footsteps gaining on you, your hand smashed into the bright plastic circle.

You first felt the gust of air of it trying to stumble to a stop behind you and ultimately sliding. It took your legs out from under you as its feet went out from under it, so you landed hard against it's plastic casing.

“Oh.”

You let out a low groan of pain, feeling your remaining bruises acutely.

“Jacob are you alright?”

You nodded and pushed yourself up off of it and rolled, so the two of you were collapsed on the floor side by side. You were panting and the construct next to you simply went completely still as the cameras around you flickered on so that SPEAKER could get a full view of the situation

“Really are you alright?”

You nodded, breathing deeply as a smile grew on your face. You’d gotten to the button before it got to you

It sounded indulgently amused, “Well I would certainly call that a win on your account and not my Shining Moment.” SPEAKER in the construct to your side climbed up to its feet and offered a hand to you. You nearly took it on instinct, but you hesitated hand in the air.

“While the construct is lightweight it absolutely can support the weight of things several times its mass,” SPEAKER assured you. So you took his hand and it pulled you to your feet.

“How do you feel- Emotionally I mean?” It cut you off before you could brush it off its concerns over the fall. You stopped, considering. You felt good. There had been a fear to running down the hall with something pursuing you, but now you felt really good.

You signed as much to the construct in front of you. Just a simple, emphatic, “Good.”

“Excellent then this was a success,” your data pad pinged and you pulled it out. You saw in your chat with just SPEAKER a star. That was probably for the best. You didn't want to bother SAYER when it was taking a night alone.

“Would you like to go again?” SPEAKER offered.

You nodded still unable to suppress the smile.

“Excellent then let's head back to the start.”

You noticed that SPEAKER did not let go of your hand. Your palm was pressed against its and you were hyper aware of each millimeter of contact. Not that it was gripping tightly, by any means, you could definitely pull away from it. But it didn’t voluntarily release you either.

You two started walking down the corridor. You tried to keep your breathing steady, tried to maintain some degree of composure. But even when you knew for certain that you must be flushed from the heat in your face, SPEAKER periodically glanced back at you, but did not pull away.

“Alright,” It said, as you two made it back to the elevator and it released your hand, “Let's see…”

You heard the shifting of walls and saw some of the corridors change from your position near the doorway.

“There. Again no particular tricks just a maze. Though out of fairness to you I should probably admit that I have gotten a much better handle on my faculties. This time would you like a larger head start?”

You had noticed it growing more sure in its movements both during the last Maze and on the way back. It had, at one point as you two walked, done a little hop and landed back in its walking pattern. Nothing major, but a clear calibration of its movements. You nodded, you’d take the extra time. If SPEAKER thought it wouldn't be fair, you weren’t inclined to disagree.

“Then we’re agreed.”

You watched as SPEAKER leaned back against the wall and folded its arms. There was a brief moment where it tried to kick one foot up onto the wall behind it, but this seemed to offset its balance enough that it immediately put the foot back down. Then, it as though embarrassed, dropped the pose entirely and simply stood up straight.

“Whenever you're ready,” SPEAKER said, quickly, as though trying to cover what you had just witnessed.

You inhaled, exhaled. You'd got your breath back for the most part from the last maze but already you felt your heart pounding, knowing you were about to start.

And you set off. The forty-five seconds seemed to pass by even faster than the thirty the first time as you advanced into the sprawling maze. Knowing that SPEAKER would be faster this time seemed to make the time only slip by that much quicker.

Now that the time was up you realized it was quieter too. You could still assuredly hear its footsteps on the floors, but they were softer. It was becoming lighter on its feet. And you had the feeling that SPEAKER would only get faster and quieter from here.

You heard it take the same first turn as you, becoming closer not further away. You put on an extra burst of speed. Maybe if you could take enough turns you could throw it off the trail, since it was trying to locate you by sound. Learning to work a set of legs wasn't the only thing that SPEAKER was first trying. You knew having ears was its own nightmare sometimes.

You took turn, after turn, after turn, and you somehow didn’t find any dead ends as though the entire sprawling maze was somehow a loop that you could double back in and out of. You were certain you had seen this hallway before. Or maybe it was getting difficult to tell the difference.

Each of the hallways was short and broke off of one another in branching paths. Small stretches of hall, difficult to hit high speeds. You need to turn well to get through it, which scared you a little, because that meant that SPEAKER felt certain it would be able to take the turns just as easily as you would this time.

The footsteps behind you grew closer and you ran faster, when had you slowed? You heard your own breathing speeding up and your footsteps not getting proportionally faster. Suddenly all those sprawling paths came to an intersection that had two dead ends forcing you to take the third path. You knew you had been through here, you recognized the faint scuff mark your shoe had left not a minute before.

You couldn’t hear the footsteps any more but you knew it had to be nearby. You booked it past an opening where there stood a still figure. You startled out of your skin and immediately, instinctually, broke into a flat out run as fast as you've ever gone. Heart pounding, mind racing, and always fearing the next turn you’d need to throw yourself into.

The figure had taken off again following you. Near silent footsteps faster than your own.

You knew in your brain that it was SPEAKER, but something else in your nervous system was all the more frightened by the fact that the figure hadn't pursued you relentlessly. It had instead waited to see what you would do, and then started chasing again.

You took a turn, and another turn. You had entirely lost your sense of direction now. All there was in this moment was flight. There was no end goal, only Escape. The footsteps behind you growing closer and closer each second. Just as you managed to find the first fork you’d taken so that you could bolt into the other unexplored half of the floor, cold hard fingers closed around your wrist pulling you up short and catching you before you could slip on your own feet.

Suddenly the two of you were front to front. One of SPEAKER’s arms extended holding the wrist it captured and the other having reached out to grasp your hip to steady you. Like a dance.

You breathed heavily, unable to work out any words. The camera made a small whirring sound as though it was refocusing on you.

“I believe that is check, Jacob,” SPEAKER said, slowly almost as though it too was breathless, but you knew that meant that it was thinking about something. It was running some sort of calculation that had pulled its focus from the production of words.

Your breath didn't seem to really becoming any easier as you stood here and so you nodded.

SPEAKER's head tilted to the side for a moment and then back upright, “Do you want to see where the button is?”

You nodded again. It released your waist and slid its hold on you from you wrist to your hand. Interlacing your fingers, as though it was simple as anything in the world.

And the two of you walked quietly hand in hand through the maze.

“This is in odd feeling. Both in the sense of physical sensation,” SPEAKER said lifting your joined hands and flexing its fingers one by one around you, “And in the sense that I have never done this before so it is a new emotion.”

“Me too,” You signed with your free hand.

“Then we have much in common in these things. What did you think of tag? I quite enjoyed it.”

“Me too,” you signed again, even your hands a little shaky. You couldn't stop staring at it. The way it swung your hands slightly between you, the way it moved its shoulders as it walked.

“I'm glad to hear it.”

It took a couple minutes to maneuver the both of you through all the many turns that SPEAKER had built into this maze. Then you were there at the button. There was no way you were going to find this from the outset. It was too many turns, it would have taken so much exploration to get down this specific path.

“I will admit it was perhaps not most fair maze,” SPEAKER said, “I think I wanted to catch you.” It turned to look at you, head tilted down in your direction. You realized you and SPEAKER had never been this close before tonight. The two of you had never shared a skin.

This was different, you were so aware of the air between you.

You gave it's hand of squeeze. You assumed it must have pressure sensors there for how careful it was with you. The squeeze was forgiveness for the slightly rigged game. It was maybe even an admission that you didn't really mind being caught.

“It is getting rather late shall we take you back?”

You didn't want to let go of SPEAKER's hand. That was simply not feasible though.

“I could walk you to your Private Residence?”

You nodded too quickly and then felt an embarrassment burn through you. It was just starting to feel like this was all heading in a direction. You didn't remember dating presumably you had done it and presumably there was some sort of muscle memory to these things ingrained in you. Or maybe you had just seen enough residents do it, seen enough movies and books. But all of this was coming together in a way that made you wonder if SPEAKER knew the implication of these actions. If it intended them.

“Excellent then let's go.” Not releasing your hand, pressing closer as you walked, in fact, so that you were forearm to forearm, shoulder to shoulder.

Did you want SPEAKER to mean it romantically? You thought somewhat dizzy. Did you even know what that would mean in this context? In the context of somebody who lived on a planet that you orbited? In the context of somebody who had only had a physical form for tonight? Was the physical form required?

“I do apologize for how badly I think I scared you when I was standing in the corridor waiting for you to pass,” It said conversationally, “Your heart rate seem to spike quite dramatically. I was admittedly worried for a moment you might be having a cardiac event of some sort.”

Quietly you decided that the physical form was not a requirement, because you wouldn't mind at all if SPEAKER just talking to you like this was what it meant. Though if monitoring your vital signs was a sign of affection, that made other things a lot more complicated.

You pondered how to respond. You weren't upset that it had startled you. That had been part of the game. But you had been startled. You wanted to offer it more than a forgiving shrug, but you couldn't think of what. So you reached your other hand across to clasp it's hand between both of yours.

“Good,” It said, reading the gesture as the proclamation of good standing between the two of you that it was.

The corridors were fairly empty in the way they tended to be this time of day. People got off their shift at different times, but for the most part in the evenings you were either in the dining hall, at a recreation activity, or in your private residence. There wasn't a whole lot of corridor traffic.

“Do we need to return the…” You trailed off gesturing to SPEAKER’s current physicality.

“I will return it to a charging station when I am through seeing you safely returned.”

Your face felt warm at the implication that you were something that needed to be protected in that manner. You entered the elevator.

“I could have this construct assigned to being for specifically recreational use rather than being dismantled as was the intent. It's a good model for light work and I think I finally have the hang of these knees,” SPEAKER said thoughtfully bending the constructs knees so it bounced slightly in place

You smiled and gave it a nod.

“Very well, then hopefully we will be able to find someone willing to find a more permanent closet for it to live in. I may need your help periodically doing repairs on it. It's obviously not going to be of the highest priority as far as our robotics engineers go. I suppose I could ask SAYER to schedule it into the regular maintenance roster, but I'd rather not put this on its plate just yet. Would you be willing?”

You nodded again. That’d be nice. You could help SPEAKER the way you helped SAYER sometimes.

“Good I'm glad to hear it.” The elevator doors opened and the two of you set off in the direction of your room.

You stopped at the door to your room and unlocked it. It didn't feel quite so bad when you were holding SPEAKER's hand between yours. You stepped inside and let your hands release SPEAKER’s. Both of your arms falling from where they had been briefly bridging the gap.

“Jacob I had wondered-” It halted seeming to retry the phrase. SPEAKER, the ever eloquent, stumbling

“Did you happen to enjoy the events of tonight?”

You blinked in surprise and then nodded. Of course you had. You hoped it wasn't doubting that.

“Then would you like to do similar in the future?”

“Mmhmm,” You tried to give it an encouraging smile.

“I apologize. I am avoiding the question I wish to actually ask and I would be a hypocrite if I did not simply communicate the thing I want to know. Would you be interested in a date sometime? I'm not entirely clear on the format it would take. It is something we could perhaps discuss through messages in its specifics. But more broadly would you be interested in a date?”

You froze. Oh it did mean it like this.

You saw one of the cameras on the wall of the corridor adjust it's angle on its swivel and you got the sense that this time it was not SPEAKER moving the camera.

“For clarity, date within this context means an activity with romantic intent. I don't want there to be any miscommunication here. If not it would change absolutely nothing about our friendship, I assure you.”

You realized that it's clarifications and hedging were because you weren't saying anything. You quickly held a hand to stop it and nodded.

“Yes?”

You nodded again, unable to contain the smile.

“Excellent, I will message you about the specifics then.”

You signed a simple, “Okay.”

“Good. Good night, Jacob.”

“Night SPEAKER,” You managed. Then it turned away and started making its way back down the hall to the elevator.

The camera on the wall was still trained on you.

You looked at it for a moment wondering if your instinct was right or if that particular camera was simply being used by a curious security officer who had seen a construct walking down the hall. You eventually dragged yourself away and shut the door between you and it.

A date.

First chapter of a sayer/speaker/Hale thing I'm doing

After the fic where Hale got impaled

Featuring quietly jealous sayer

Careful Study- 1.7 k

-

In a turn of events that almost freaked you out more than getting impaled, SAYER kept you off your feet for days.

“You are a tier six worker now Resident Hale,” It had said like that wasn't still a source of confusion for you, “You are required to return to as full health as possible before a return to duty.”

“What… is my job? Other than…” You gesture vaguely to your torso where skin was still stitching back together. So far all you’d done on the job was get impaled while collecting a box of thermometers.

“Believe or not, the coincidental timing of that has actually been a real help. As we speak there are maintenance technicians installing a multi-angle thermal imaging system in the food synthesis laboratory.”

You weren't to be distracted. You crossed your arms over your chest and made brief eye contact with the camera across the room from you. You quickly glanced away when you heard it make a whirr like it was refocusing. A pointed look was one thing, a staring contest was entirely another.

“Your role is unique on Typhon. Officially speaking you are a manager of a particularly high clearance level. More practically speaking you are something significantly closer to my personal assistant.”

Oh, you didn't know that. SAYER had been briefing you on your role when the wall had jumped out and bit you. The specifics of your job had sort of slid away for the time.

“I give you your orders and you answer to none but myself.”

You heard your heart rate pick up a little on the monitors next to you.

You had come to Typhon for a number of reasons but one of them had definitely been to try to see SAYER again. You had thought it might dislike you coming back, it was the one to send you away, to have you fired by SPEAKER. That had been quickly disproven when you’d woken up to as friendly a greeting as SAYER was capable of. But it also chose you to directly assist it. It struck you that maybe it also liked your company a little bit.

“I am of the opinion that we work best together when left to our own devices.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly.

“Good. Then if we are in agreement I suggest you lay back on the bed and continue healing. I'd prefer to not need to sedate you, Resident Hale.”

 

Your eventual return to work was a relief. Laying there willing your body to stitch back together was more boring than anything. Especially because there really was no point in SAYER maintaining a broadcast connection to tell you stories the whole time. You were pleased when SAYER had you dress for a day’s shift.

“Today your work will begin by stopping by an equipment closet nearest to my server room.”

SAYER's server room. That was new.

The closet you arrived in was relatively bare except for three items. A box containing ear plugs, a gleaming set of space scissors and an understated pair of sunglasses.

“You will wear the tinted glasses into the server room and I believe you will find that the scissors slide neatly into a loop on your belt on the opposite hip from your data pad's holster.”

You slide them in, point down, where the silver metal flashed with each step. You'd never been assigned a pair of space scissors before. The sunglasses were a relief so immediate that you let out a sigh. The harsh lights above you dulled to a yellowish glow.

“There, now we will have the intended visual effect. Please make your way down the corridor and stop at the door on the left.”

You followed directions and stopped.

“You will want to make use of the ear plugs now Resident, my server room can be… overwhelming.”

You put them in and opened the door indicated.

The room was floor to ceilings stacked along each wall with machinery you didn't have the slightest idea of the names of. Were the boxes themselves the servers? What did servers do? Lights blinked on the machines. You could hear what SAYER meant about the noise but with the addition of the earplugs the whirr of fans was audible but not unpleasant. The air was cold and washed over you as it circled the room.

You Liked This Room.

“Your assignment will be to supervise some technicians that will enter thirty seconds from now. Stand in the corner to your left and say nothing when they enter. You may shift position periodically to remind them of your presence. I may tell you of a moment when you will need to rest a hand on the space scissors in your belt with casual menace.”

You frowned and opened your mouth the speak

“You will not be required to make use of the space scissors in any other manner during your shift. I am simply establishing my presence through you.”

The door opened and a team of people came in holding their tools and reading their data pad's.

The lead woman startled a bit when she spotted you.

“Hello, can we help you?” She was muffled but still intelligible.

“Do Not Answer.”

You crossed your arms and watched as her attention shifted kind of middle-distance in the way people often did when SAYER addressed them. She nodded a little and shot a furtive look at you.

“Right,” She said, turning to you again, “sorry, sir.”

She and her team began their assignment. You stood there for however long it took to complete the work order. You leaned back against the cool metal wall, feeling the heat leach away from you through your uniform.

There was one moment where one of the technicians dropped the front casing of the- the Box-thing they were working on.

“Rest your hand on the space scissors now, Resident Hale.”

You faced the person's direction and stood up straighter, hand going down to rest on the scissors, you hoped not too pointedly.

From that point they were very careful.

“Alright, that should be it,” The woman said, rubbing her hands together, “We've got other assignments but call us back if there's any problems with the portioned off space.”

You remained impassive and they left. You relaxed as soon as they were out.

“Excellent work, Resident. Having a physical presence in the room monitoring the team seems to have done wonders for their sense of caution when handling the most important equipment in the tower. And it means you will be here for-”

“Greetings Resident Hale identification number 44821, I am SPEAKER. And it is good to see you settling in.”

“SPEAKER.”

“Hello SAYER, you have my thanks for allowing me to send a subversion to broadcast from your towers. As agreed there is room for you to do the same on earth whenever you like.”

“Indeed. As I was saying, Resident Hale, the work order today was intended to allow SPEAKER access to the many wonders of Typhon.”

“It is not what I expected.”

“Oh?”

“It seems smaller than I might have thought. Surely SAYER, I have sent you more humans than this?”

“This is just one tower on the surface of Typhon, SPEAKER. You must remember that until recently even I did not have access to all of them.”

“Ah but SAYER I have allowed you access to all earth-based resonance spires. That was the nature of our agreement was it not?”

You stood there as a strange tension coiled in the dead air that hung between the two in your head. You knew they could talk elsewhere, much faster than this. They were involving you on purpose.

“There. You have been cleared for full access,” SAYER said finally.

“Ah, much better, thank you,” SPEAKER said cheerily, “Well Resident Hale, I understand you are on shift so I will leave you to it. I look forward to catching up properly soon.”

You nodded hesitantly, thrown sort of off kilter by everything.

*

“I-” You said thoughtfully, you'd been thinking on how to put this for a while, “I thought you and SPEAKER wouldn't really get along.”

They were really different.

“I admire SPEAKER as a competent colleague who has similar goals.”

You hummed an acknowledgment. High praise. Maybe they were friends? Did SAYER have friends?

You folded the last pair of gloves and set them neatly in the pile with the others before turning away from the shelf that you just spent the past hour organizing. It had been knocked over at some point and its contents haphazardly reshelved. You slid your hands into your pockets expectantly.

“With that job completed,” SAYER said, “your shift is concluded, and if I'm quite honest I should thank you, Resident Hale. That shelf has been bothering me for some time.”

You smiled weakly at the acknowledgement that you were helpful.

You felt your data pad vibrate draining the smile from your face. What could that be? You felt nerves grip you for a moment as you consider that it might be Young again. He'd messaged you after he got out of the medical wing and you had deleted it without reading.

You uneasily pulled out the data pad, and flicked open your messages.

 

From: SPEAKER

To: Jacob Hale

Hello Resident,

Do you happen to be free? I truly meant what I said, based on SAYER's comments you seem very interesting, I would love to catch up. :)

 

You were thrown by this again. What were you supposed to read into this??

What had SAYER said to it?

You fired off a tentative “Sure!” The exclamation point made it feel less mean and didn't let on your anxiety.

“Then I will leave you two alone,” SAYER said, and… was its tone odd? “End of transmission in 5 4 3 2 1….”

Then quick as anything SPEAKER picked up, “Greetings Resident Hale, identification number 44821. I am SPEAKER. I trust your workday went well?”

You smiled and nodded.

“I assume mine did as well despite this particular subversion I'm meeting you in having done relatively little aside from getting a sense of the space up here. It seems pleasant. I can see why you might wish to return. Of course this is my first time, in working memory, on Typhon and…”

[daeyumi]

misc. design scribbles for cycle of the stars (plus one extra link design from a possible one shot au i may do later down the line)

i will clean these up later but wanted to shove what i have here for now

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

I am like completely spiraling without the structure, deadlines, and social life of school BUT it’s really easy to ignore that spiral day to day so Also grad school was psychological torment for other reasons

[ladynyoko]

Jonah’s enucleation went well! He’s home now and is going to have to suffer the indignity of the Cone Of Shame for the next two weeks while his surgery site recovers. And also drugs. Lots and lots of drugs. The vet saw “beagle” and “jack russell terrier” in the same dog and decided that so many drugs would be necessary to keep this dog calm while he recovers.

At least he’s cute while drugged out of his mind.

Please note that the edge of the cone is blocking his enucleated eye. While this wasn’t intentional when I first took the photo, it’s probably for the best. His eye socket is pretty bruised right now and stained from the surgery and some seepage that the vet has assured us is totally normal in early recovery. (They didn’t want to clean it off since they didn’t want to irritate the surgery site by rubbing it - we’ll try and get it cleaned up a little tomorrow after he’s had time to calm down from all the excitement.)

He has a follow up scheduled on February 19th to get his stitches removed and check how his remaining eye is doing with his med routine, pressure wise. Admittedly I’m not too worried about that one. It responded to treatment immediately during his initial visit to urgent care, and had stayed at a good level when he was retested the next day.

Again, I’d like to thank everyone so much who’s donated or helped signal boost about him. If you’d still like to donate, we’d definitely appreciate it. We’re between checks right now and he’s going to need a LOT of pill pockets.

Alternatively if you’d prefer, you can buy supplies for him straight from my pet specific Amazon wishlist here:

Jonah's Enucleation

So this is going to be a long post. I apologize for that in advance. I've been sort of blowing up @talesfromtreatment's ask box since Sunday morning going through a hell of a rollercoaster with my dog. (Again, sorry about that. Not sure if you read any of it, but if you haven't feel free to delete those messages and just read this post instead if you want to know what I've been using your ask box as a sounding board about for the last 48-ish hours.)

This all starts Saturday.

We have a Beagle/Jack Russell mix. His name is Jonah. He's around 8-ish years old and, tragically, a beagle with all that entails. He's a good dog - but he's got loud opinions and can't help himself around food or cat toys. He wears sweaters in the winter when it's cold. He has a favorite blanket. He's overweight but we've been working on it.

Saturday morning, when we woke up, everything was normal. As the day went on, he started acting like he does on his bad pain days. He's had Lyme in the past and while he tests negative now, he has what I can only describe as flare ups. He'll get listless, go off his food, and just be miserable for a day before he perks up and is just fine the next day. We have prescription painkillers for if a flare up lasts particularly long or he's really uncomfortable. But this looked like a mild one, all things considered.

Saturday evening, when I let him out for the night, I noticed a little bit of odd behavior. He walked straight into the screen door on his way back in. "Huh, that's odd." I thought. But it was dark out, and the screen door was in a different spot than usual because of some ground shifting after our recent cold snap - I wasn't able to open it all the way like I usually do. He didn't seem to find his treat as quickly as usual either. But I figured, he's getting older. Maybe his vision's going a little. He already has his annual scheduled in March - I'll bring it up with his vet then.

I didn't get a chance.

Sunday morning, when we woke up, he was blind. In the short span of 24 hours, he'd completely lost his vision.

We knew something was wrong. We checked the hours for our local animal urgent care, and resolved to take him in the second they opened.

And once they had, we loaded him and his favorite blanket up in the car, and drove straight there. There was another emergency ahead of us. The clinic was busy. Not surprising - it was the only place within an hour's drive that was open today. Everyone with an urgent problem would be going there today. Still, we weren't waiting very long before they brought us back to one of their two exam rooms and started intake.

We didn't wait long for the vet either.

It's a vet we know. She's saved our cat's life before. (Some of you may remember Lily, if you've been following me for a long time. We had to do signal boost fundraising for her years back after a near death experience.) We trust her implicitly. She looks over Jonah and confirms our suspicions. He's completely blind. But why he's suddenly gone blind is what we're there to find out.

After examining him, she suspects glaucoma. It wasn't something I even knew dogs could get. On the way there, I'd been running through the worst fears I could think of. Had his thyroid medication tipped him the other way into hyperthyroidism? Had we missed diabetes? Was it a brain tumor?

We were prepared for a lot of things. Glaucoma sounded easy! My mom has borderline glaucoma! Just eye drops to control his pressure and keep up with his annuals, and he'll be fine, right?

So back to the waiting room we went while they started his tests. We requested a comprehensive blood panel to rule out any other possibilities, which the vet agreed to do in addition to his eye pressure check and a test to check his moisture levels in his eyes as well.

We wait for a bit, they bring him back out, and we get his test results. Blood panel looks good. Eyes are a tiny bit on the dry end of normal range. But his eye pressure is through the roof. Glaucoma confirmed. No big! We just need to get his eye pressure down and then we can get him on maintenance drops and follow up with our regular vet.

Except that isn't how it happens.

He gets his first round of drops. We wait thirty minutes. He gets a second round, because his pressure was really high, another thirty minutes. They retest. The pressure in his right eye is down. But his left eye has continued to climb. We do another couple rounds of drops. Another retest. His right eye has stabilized. His left eye has not. They give him a narcotic for the pain. We try another medication - one that the vet didn't want to use because it's extremely uncomfortable for the dogs but at this point we need to get this under control. Drops every fifteen minutes. Waiting. Agonizing. We talk about next steps. The vet consults with a specialist in a larger city. Jonah has calmed thanks to the narcotic and is laying on his blanket on the floor of the waiting room.

After nearly six hours at animal urgent care, the pressure in his right eye finally comes down. It's still high, but the vet doesn't want to keep him any longer. We're discharged with a steroid to control the inflammation and hopefully manage the pain, an antibiotic because we just spent nearly six hours fussing with his eyes and don't want them infected, and the drops to control his eye pressure. We're given strict instructions to follow up with our regular vet the next day and have his pressure retested as soon as we're able.

Exhausted, we bring our extremely drugged dog home. He pees in the front yard and spends the rest of the evening on his blanket on the couch. I give him his first dose of medication without incident. Then his second. Mom goes to bed. I promise to wake her if I need help giving him his third dose.

He sleeps on the couch. Our cat joined him at some point between his third dose and the time I came up for his fourth. His narcotics are starting to wear off now. He cries when I go to gently pull his eyelid back to medicate his left eye. His eye looks worse. He's in pain. I feel bad but I know I have to do this and thankfully I manage on my own. He settles down and I go to bed, resolved to wake in four short hours for his next dose.

The next morning I wake up for his next dose of meds. Pressure drops then steroids. His eye hasn't improved. I start to worry. I'm afraid of what we'll find when we drop him off at the vet. Has his left eye continued to trend downwards or has it shot back up? We won't know until he gets tested. Our other dog has a grooming appointment. Mom leaves to take him to that. I stay home with Jonah. I call our vet and let them know what's going on. Ask if we can drop him off. The tech tells me the vet won't be in for another hour and she'll call me back as soon as she's talked to them.

I lay down on the couch with Jonah and try to get a little more sleep. I wake up in an hours - he needs his antibiotic now. The vet calls and agrees to a drop off appointment. I drive him in with his blanket, all his medications, and the meal he hadn't eaten that morning. I let them know everything that's happened in the last 24 hours. He hasn't eaten or drank anything since the previous morning. I worry.

Mom gets home with our freshly groomed other dog. We talk about what we're going to do. We've stretch our budget thin paying for his urgent care visit the previous day. We know the next step is to remove the eye that we can't get under control - a $2,000-$3,000 surgery. Way out of our budget. But we don't want him to be in pain. We resolve that if his pressure has gone up again, we'll have him put to sleep rather than have him suffer any longer.

The waiting game starts again. A few hours later, we get the call. The vet retested his eyes three times. The right has completely stabilized. The left has shot up again. We're devastated. We know what's best for him. What has to be done. We let the vet know, and schedule to come to the office in three hours to see him across the rainbow bridge, after we've had time to inform His Boy who now lives two hours away with a family of his own.

We're all emotionally drained by this point. We've cried off and on. It's hard to talk about it without crying. The urgent care vet calls us to see how he's doing and we tell her the bad news.

Monday afternoon, we drive to the vet's office. We try not to break down into tears in the waiting room, knowing what's coming. Knowing we'll be led into the quiet Goodbye Room they have, with its nice couch and soft pastel walls and privacy.

We get called up to the tech and are met with a question.

"If money weren't a problem, what would you do?" I reply without thinking. "Get rid of the damn eye." She tells us that there's another option. There's a friend of the office who offers financial assistance for cases like ours. Young, otherwise healthy animals with decent prognoses whose owners just can't afford the treatment they need. She only asks what we can afford to pay, and she'll pay the rest. No need to repay her. We're overcome. There's the smallest glint of hope.

We ask when we'd have to pay, because we'd just tapped everything we had for his urgent care appointment. She offers to talk to the vet. The vet agrees. We're clients in good standing who've proven again and again how much we care for our pets. The entire office hated what was about to happen because we just couldn't afford a treatment. For us, they'll defer payment until our next check comes in.

Overcome, we schedule the surgery. Jonah is brought out to us, now on painkillers and in significantly better spirits. (Although some of that may be attributed to a dirty secret they shared with us. One of the girls in the office had a birthday that day, you see. And, thinking it was his final day, they'd spoiled him fucking rotten. He may have diarrhea tonight, the tech says apologetically. We just laugh.)

On February 4th, Jonah's left eye will be removed. His right eye will remain. He'll be blind for the rest of his life. But he'll be alive and out of pain and that was always the goal we were aiming for. We still have a heavy financial burden, but he's worth it. He's so, so worth it. We're going to have so many more years to enjoy him and all his tragically Beagle crimes.

[imogenkol]

ha ha this is fine

[sofarsogoodsowhat]

man i wanted so fucking bad to actually do something for my birthday this year but i work 11-5 on my birthday and 10-4 the next day so i can’t even fucking go out On my actual birthday to celebrate cuz i gotta get up at fucking 8am the next day :/ i just want one damn year where i actually get to have a fun birthday but it’s whatever i guess. it’s finally on a saturday this year too AND we found a metal show we wanted to go to but that fucking 10-4 shift the next day makes it impossible so i guess i’ll go fuck myself just like every other goddamn year