#just realized that maybe when my dog died he took all the home with him

[greeneyesfriedrice]

i think it’s also i have always been a homebody. coming home has always made me feel whole again, like im meant to be here. the familiarity of everything, knowing exactly where im going and what im going to see. but im home now and i dont feel that way anymore. how am i supposed to cope with the fact that my comfort place now makes me feel uncomfortable.

growing up isn’t like. it isn’t just the “yay!!! i’m able to do things on my own now!!!” it’s the coming home after experiencing the world and feeling like you’ve escaped. like you no longer fit in a familiar place. that your childhood home has changed without you there. it’s your dad being alone most nights. it’s your mom waiting for you to get back. it’s your sister stuck here, unmoving from our home to protect herself. there will always be comfort with coming home despite all the growth happening elsewhere. knowing exactly how to flush the toilet, knowing which stairs will creak, knowing the exact routes and detours to get to your friends houses. the comfort in knowing where these roads lead is the comfort in knowing how to leave.

[ovaryacted]

Really random but dad bod DI Leon🤤🤤🤤 (I really love DI Leon if you couldn’t tell) like I love Leon w abs, and his hourglass shape but just him cuddling w you and being so warm and soft😢 (or when y’all are making love and his tummy just has us fitting together like puzzle pieces and it’s LIKE OMGMGM😭😭😭😭😭)

-🐏

cw: descriptions of body changes, internalized fatphobia, smutty thoughts/acts.

OHHHHHH DAD BOD LEON IS MY VICE PLEASE OH MY FUCKING GOD. LIKE RAHHHH, I NEED IT BAD. Ram anon, I'm on to you.

The changes happen after a year into his forced retirement, he doesn't realize it until he becomes more aware of the way your arms feel wrapping around his soft torso. Once adorned with hard muscle, his body now was covered in a layer of skin that expanded over time. He still had the same physique and the same capacity for strength, but there was an added softness he’d acquired recently that sent his head in for a spin.

Retirement has been good for Leon, he no longer has to deal with the hecticness of mission briefings and assignments. He gets to actually rest, his usual overactive nervous system now rendered down and becoming more manageable. The first couple of weeks he spent falling asleep in bed or on the couch, like his body was playing catchup on the energy that's been robbed from him over the years. You didn’t bother him about it, didn’t even judge him whenever you’d find him limp on the bed and snoring in the middle of the day.

You'd use that time to run errands or do chores around your shared home, often preparing meals for him whenever he'd wake up groggily to go look for you. Eating homemade meals that were made with love certainly started to add up, the consistent intake of food was new and apparently something that his body liked and needed. The constant nausea he often experienced when he was under so much stress went away, slowly learned how to enjoy eating again like he did years before he was forced to become an agent.

He never focused on his appearance most days, but as Leon stopped to observe himself in the mirror one morning, his eyes were fixated on his body. He's certainly changed after a while, stomach a little fuller and cheeks more plump than before, hell even his arms and thighs looked bigger. His initial reaction to the change would have been disgust, to put himself back on a routine to regain the muscle he's lost and to critique every imperfection that would eventually be another nuisance.

But as he looked at himself a little longer, a smile crept up on his face, not minding what he saw for probably the first time in his life. All he saw was your love for him, how the signs of you taking care of him after all this time were starting to reflect in how he looked. He was healthy, he was alive, and that was a win in his book.

You certainly didn't mind the changes either and took every opportunity to remind Leon of just how much you adored him. Cuddling him whenever you could was something that became a ritual between the two of you, sneaking under his arm and digging your face into his chest any chance you got. He was soft, warm, and just a tad bit squishy. He was human, he was himself, not some war machine meant to work like a dog day and night.

One of your favorite things about his new appearance was the intimate moments you both shared and how he felt around you both internally and externally. You loved getting on your knees and worshipping him, sucking over his cock lavishly and running your hands over his thick thighs, biting at them when Leon found himself lost in pleasure.

Or when you were riding him and the sound of his thighs slapping against yours was louder than before, his lower tummy rubbing into you, meshing together so well one would think you were part of the same whole. It made you feral, like a primal instinct to claim him and show him that all you wanted was to make him feel accepted in this new body. Leon didn't complain, he loved how your attraction to him seemed to skyrocket.

Maybe being a bit more soft wasn't so bad after all.

[doberbutts]

@corvus--caurinus

Yup! Per my neurologist, before the mid/late 00s the medical community was sort of, uh, unconcerned about so-called "minor" concussions, because the symptoms didn't seem to last longer than a few seconds and thus it was treated as a non-issue. Most parents didn't take their kids to the doctor for them and the few who did were told to let the kid rest for a day and then get back to life as normal.

Then a breakthrough study happened and revealed there is no such thing as a "mild" concussion. All concussions are concussions and all concussions are brain injuries. And all concussions run an exponentially higher risk of increasingly dangerous and life-affecting symptoms as you knock your brain around more and more. And with each subsequent concussion, you run the serious risk of these symptoms becoming permenant brain damage. Turns out, your brain does not actually like to be jumbled around in there, who knew.

The white flash is usually caused by one of two things: a jarring motion in your retinas (not a concussion) or the impact of your brain banging against the fluids and other matter inside of your skull (that's a concussion). Same if you "see stars"- the "stars" are the damaged nerves that just banged into something firing off electrical impulses trying to figure out how to cope with what just happened. And of course if you hit your head or are shaken to the point of losing consciousness, that's your brain's equivilant of the computer that, when smacked, turns itself off. All of these are concussions, and while it may seem like knocking yourself out should result in a worse concussion than just seeing stars, brains don't always follow that rule. All of these concussions will eventually stack on top of each other and will cause a major TBI once you hit your head a little too hard or perhaps even just one too many times.

So when he said "okay so you were never *treated* for a concussion but have you ever had this happen after hitting your head?" well... yes, actually. I was hit in the head by a thrown baseball bat (accidentally) in gym class and promptly took a nap. I was awake and otherwise fine in a few minutes so besides being sent home that day and having a large bruise/egg nothing really happened. I was doing flips on the gymnastic bars and lost my grip and whacked my head against the ground and, you guessed it, was unconscious. By the time my friends got the recess teacher over I was already awake and just a little dazed- again they sent me home but that's it. I fell through one of those dome monkey bars at a playground with my mom and hit the ground head/neck first. This was before the age of cell phones so Mom told me she was trying to figure out what to do about her very unresponsive child in the middle of the park (it's dangerous to move someone who may have broken their back/neck but she also can't just leave me laying on the ground to knock on someone's door to call 911) when I woke up and outside of a stiff neck seemed "quiet but fine".

In fairness according to my neuro there's not really much a doctor *could* have done medically as I bounced back without any problems except maybe have me take it easy for a couple weeks (I'd've died of boredom with no stimulation) but it still should have been noted that each of those were concussions. Then the amount of times that I've been dazed or saw lights... too many to count. I work with high energy dogs in an impact sport, they headbutt me or punch me or knock me to the ground all the time. I was an active kid and an athlete prior to my heart acting up, so sport-related injuries just sort of come with the package and that includes knocks on the head.

But sitting in his office and hearing him say that, and then recovering from the TBI and examining what it's done to my life... it made me realize how much people take for granted. It just takes one too many knocks on the head. He said the major thing he regrets as an older neurologist is that for a very long time, most of his practicing career and certainly a significant portion of my own life, no one really cared about concussions. But the line between concussion and TBI is very blurred, because in truth a concussion *is* a brain injury, and at some point you will concuss yourself much much worse than you were expecting due to the buildup of damage from not taking hitting your head seriously.

The best way to think of it is breaking your ankle. A broken ankle is a broken ankle, there's no such thing as a "mild" broken ankle. But there are grades of severity- a hairline fracture on a single bone is a broken ankle, but recovery time and process are relatively straightforward in most cases. Completely shattering multiple bones on the other hand significantly lengthens recovery time and the process is significantly more involved with a risk of further complications. If you keep doing whatever it is that gave you a hairline fracture, one day you won't be so lucky, and you will completely shatter the whole joint assembley.

That's how concussions are. Those cute little knocks that cause a white flash and nothing else? That's a warning to stop doing that and be more careful. You get to hobble around in a boot for a while to think about your choices leading up to this point. Knocking yourself out? Well you've snapped a bone. You get a cast and some crutches. Full blown TBI? Congrats, the whole ankle is fucked and you need major surgery now.

[thatlovinfeelin]

Where Do You Go? | six | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Your husband died in a training accident, unexpectedly. So what happens when you find yourself leaning on his best friend and wingman, Rooster Bradshaw?

This is it Ladies and Gents, the final Part of Where Do You Go? I can't say thank you enough for all of the love and support this series had received. There were a lot of moments where I was very unsure if I would be able to tell this story, but you lot where right here with so many messages of encouragement, even though you didn't know that I needed them. SO thank you thank you thank you.

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five

“Mommy?” You question as soon as she picks up the phone, “I did something and I��m not sure how to fix it.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s all going to be okay, just tell me what happened,” Her voice is so soft and steady it makes you cry even more. 

“I slept with someone, and I really liked it,” You admit, almost horrified that you’re saying it out loud. 

“Well…honey that’s a normal thing-”

“It was Rooster, Kurtis’ best friend,” You inform her, “And now he won’t return my texts or anything. I haven’t heard from him in two weeks. And I’m afraid I ruined everything.”

“Oh,” She said softly, “I see…well, maybe it isn’t as bad as you think.”

“Mommy, I think I started to have feelings for him,” You admit, feeling your stomach twist, “And I feel like I’m cheating on Kurtis because I have feelings for another man, his best friend nonetheless and I feel like it just makes me a horrible person.”

“Oh honey, you’re allowed to move on.Kurtis wouldn’t want you to be alone forever. Maybe he would be glad it’s Rooster, out of anyone else, because he’d know him well enough to know that he would take care of you.”

“He made Rooster promise to take care of me,” You informed her, “And I took advantage of how we were feeling, how vulnerable we both were. God, he’ll never forgive me.”

“Maybe he’s just as confused as you are, sweetheart,” She suggests, “Maybe he needs space to figure it out, just like you do.”

It was another week before you got the courage to try to call Rooster. It went right to voicemail, like he declined your call. It makes you cry, thinking that you lost him too. You beg for him to call you back in the voicemail and apologize for ruining everything.

He doesn’t answer your call, or your texts. You go as far as texting one of the other members of the squadron to make sure he’s okay, at the very least. You’re told that he’s fine, just busy with training and to let up on calling and texting all of the time.

You feel your heart drop a little. He really doesn’t want to talk to you, or even see you. One night ruined everything. You hated it, because it was an amazing night, you didn’t want to regret it. You were tried of regretting things. But if that one amazing night cost you Rooster, how could you not regret it?  

You try to go about your days as normal, working and coming home to an empty house. You even look at dogs, but none of them seem to speak to you. None of them felt right to you, like you didn’t have a connection with them. You feel broken again, like a giant piece of you is missing. 

In a way, a big part of you is missing. Because Rooster became a big part of your life, a very normal part. You got too used to him being around and being in your house. Too used to him always being there with you. Too used to him holding you at night. 

You’re back to having a mountain of pillows again to try to make the bed feel less empty. You went as far as ordering a weighted blanket to try to help. You were willing to try anything, as long as it meant you could sleep again. Because sleep was avoiding you once more. 

You’re in the middle of cleaning a week later when you realized your period was late. Well, even later than it had been in the last few months. Your stomach churned at the thought. There was a whole stockpile of pregnancy tests in the cabinet underneath your sink in the bathroom, but the thought of taking one now….you couldn’t.

You couldn’t possibly be pregnant from one single night with Rooster. The universe couldn’t be that cruel to you, surely. There had to be some other reason that you’re extra late, the stress maybe? The fact you haven’t been eating a lot? 

Your mind is spinning with possibilities. So many of them it makes you dizzy. Surely you aren’t pregnant though, it’s got to be a fluke, some sort of coincidence. 

Your front door opening makes you pause, your body shaking like a leaf. 

“Hey, it’s me,” Rooster calls from the entryway, “Can I come in?”

When you can’t bring yourself to respond you hear the sound of footsteps getting closer. Rooster takes in the way you look, white as a sheet, shaking in the middle of your living room. If he didn’t know any better, he would say that you’d seen a ghost. It worries him. 

He came here to apologize for being so distant and explain himself. He came here to put himself out here, lay everything out on the table. Strip himself bare and let you know how he really felt, but now all he can do is rush forward and wrap you in his arms.

Tears burst from your eyes before you can even catch up with what’s happening. He strokes your back, shushing you gently. You clutch onto him, needing him to keep you grounded. You’re terrified, absolutely terrified. How would he react to what you have to tell him? How would he react to knowing he could be a father?

“What’s wrong,” He whispers, kissing the top of your head, “Talk to me.”

“You left,” You sob, “My period is late.”

He tenses, “How late?”

“Late enough,” Is all you can manage in response.

He swallows thickly, “Have you taken a test?”

You shake your head. You couldn’t take one all alone. The thought of what the results could be….no way you could’ve handled that without anyone here with you. There wasn’t anyone you could call to sit with you either, there was only Rooster. And until this moment, he was awol. 

“Do you have any tests?” He questions, brows furrowed. 

You nod slowly. 

“Okay, c’mon, you need to take one. We can figure out what to do once we know,” He tells you softly, pulling you towards your bedroom. 

“I’m scared,” Your voice is so soft he almost doesn’t hear you, “Will you stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” He doesn’t know if you mean just for this moment, or forever, but either way, he didn’t want to leave you. 

His chest ached during the time he was away from you. He felt like he was missing a part of him. And the thought tore him up, because he felt like he was betraying his best friend. Kurtis made Rooster promise that he would look after you, not that he would fall in love with you. 

“How long do we have to wait?” He asks you softly, scared to speak any higher than a whisper. 

“A few minutes.”

He nods and grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment, “Whatever happens, it’s going to be okay.”

At some point he’s going to have to tell you that he received orders. That’s another reason why he stayed away, because he was going to leave and he didn’t know how to tell you. Just like he didn’t know how he was supposed to leave you behind. It wasn’t like he was staying close either, they were sending him all the way across the country. Back to Virginia Beach.

He wanted to ask you to come with him, and he would. If you were pregnant with his child, there was no way he would leave you behind. Even if the test was negative, he couldn’t stomach being so far away from you. It made him feel physically sick just to think about it. 

Your phone timer goes off a few minutes later. He holds you tightly as you flip over the test, brows knitted together as you struggle to read it. But there’s only one line, not two. Bradley almost lets out a sigh of relief, but your eyes are watering. 

“This is good,” You try to convince yourself, “We couldn’t- I-”

“It’s okay,” He assures you, kissing the top of your head. 

Because he feels the same way, both relieved and somehow disappointed. One day, maybe if you feel the same way, you could have a child together. He could imagine it, and for a moment he let’s himself see it. 

“I should be happy,” You try wiping at the tears, but more just keep coming, “Why aren’t I happy? Where have you been?”

“I needed time to think,” He admits, still holding you tightly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It feels right, having you here. It shouldn’t, but it does,” You tell him, turning in his arms so you can hug him back.

“I know it does, I feel the same way. Felt like I was walking around without a limb,” He laughs softly, “It’s wrong, but it feels so right to be with you.”

“Then stay,” You say simply, “Stay with me, Rooster.”

He swallows, “I got orders, I’m being restationed.”

“What?” Your heart drops, he’s leaving you, “Where?”

“Virginia Beach. I leave in two weeks,” He answers, “They actually gave a good heads up.”

“Oh.”

“Come with me.”

You look up at him, eyes still wet, “You want me to come with you? Are you just saying that because I thought I was pregnant?”

“Baby, I was going to ask you before that,” He promises, “I want you with me. We can start over out there.”

“My life is here,” You blink. 

“You hate your job, you’re always complaining about it. Your family is on the East Coast,” He explains, “What do you have to keep you here?”

You almost say Kurtis. But then you think about it. You’ve been to his grave only a few times since the funeral. You hate the idea of him being there, in the cold ground. You’ve never been the type to sit and talk to a big slab of stone. Because in your mind, he isn’t there, he’s just everywhere. He’s in the rays of sun that peek through the clouds, and in the cool sea breeze, he’s in the flowers. He’s everywhere, and yet he’s nowhere. 

“Okay,” You breathe out. 

“Yeah?” He questions, bending down so he can look straight in your eyes, “Are you sure?”

“Do you even know where you’re going to live?” You question, a laugh somehow finding its way out. 

“My folks had a house not far from base,” He explains, “I’ve kept it up and rented it out for a couple of years to other military families. The last tenants just got restationed too, so it’s wide open and ready.”

“Your parents' house? Like where you grew up?” You ask, looking up at him. 

“Yeah,” He nods, “I was going to pack up a u-haul and drive it down next week.”

“You really want me to come with you?” You question again, trying to wrap your head around everything that’s happening. 

You went from thinking you were pregnant to suddenly agreeing to move across the country with your husband's best friend. Only, he’s more than that now. Because he means more to you now. He’s someone you’re falling in love with, and someone you never expected to love. It snuck up on you, slowly and steadily, until suddenly it’s all you could think about. 

Until all you wanted was to be held by him all day every day, and to talk to him and to kiss him. All you wanted was to be around him. The thought of him being all the way across the country from you made your chest hurt. You couldn’t imagine being that far away from him. You couldn’t say that you loved him out loud, it still felt too soon for something like that. But you did feel it, like a blanket wrapping around your heart. 

“Baby, I can’t imagine you being anywhere else,” He replies honestly, “I want you with me, everyday.” 

You lean up to kiss him. Softly, slowly, like you have all the time in the world. Because now you really felt like you did. If you were going to go with him, you’d have every single day to do this, for as long as you had him. 

“Okay,” You say again. 

“Yeah?”

You nod and kiss him once more, “Yeah. I’ll come with you. I want to come.”

Two weeks later you climbed the lush green hill towards the spot where Kurtis was buried. You were dressed in comfortable shorts and an old t-shirt that Rooster left behind before driving to Virginia. You take a deep breath and sit down, hand skimming the top of the tombstone.

“I’m not good at saying goodbye,” You sigh, “But I think you already know everything I’m going to say. I like to think that you’ve been keeping an eye on both of us. Maybe you gave him the push he needed to come back to me. Or gave me the push to admit how I felt about him. Either way, I blame all of this on you, Kurt. Playing matchmaker from the beyond.”

You take a deep breath and set flowers down, “I know it hasn’t even been a year yet. But he isn’t replacing you. No one could ever do that. You were my soulmate, I firmly believe that. But I’m not the same person I was when we got married, losing you changed me. It changed him too, and I think it changed us so much that we fit together now. I love him, Kurtis, and I didn’t mean to. It just sort of happened.”

You wipe at a few stray tears. You never planned on saying goodbye to him twice. This time feels like closing the chapter on the two of you. A very final goodbye. Your chest felt tight, you wished Rooster was here with you, instead of waiting for you to make the drive across the country in his Bronco. You sold your car last week, with plans to buy something a little better once you got settled in Virginia. 

“I hope you’re happy wherever you are. I wish you were still here…I miss you every day. I’m not trying to replace you, because no one ever could. But I also can’t be alone forever, and I think you understand that. I certainly hope so. I leave for Virginia today. Rooster is letting me drive the Bronco, can you believe that? He didn’t even seem worried when he handed me the keys. I remember you used to joke that you’d know he really loved someone when he let them drive that thing….so, I guess that means he must love me too.”

You take a deep breath and stand up, “Thank you for being my first love, Kurt. I’m sorry you weren’t my last, I wish you could have been. You know I’ll never forget you, and I’ll always love you. But this isn’t home for me anymore, so I have to go.”

You lean down to kiss the tombstone, “Goodbye Kurt, I’ll love you forever.”

You’re in the Bronco, ready to start the vehicle when you pull out your phone and call Rooster. He picks up on the second ring, his voice putting you at ease almost instantly. You relax into the seat, smelling him all around you. 

“Are you on your way?” He questioned. 

“Leaving now,” You tell him, “I’ll call you at every stop, I promise.”

“I’ll be waiting here for you,” His voice sounds so happy, you can almost picture him smiling in the middle of the living room, ��I can’t wait for you to get here.”

“Just a couple of days,” You remind him, “And then I’m all yours.”

“Do you have everything?” He asks again, for the millionth time today. 

“I triple checked,” You promise, “I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you,” He says quickly, without even thinking. 

The admission makes you smile. You said it for the first time before he left, unable to stop yourself. You were afraid something might happen to him on his drive and you needed him to know it, just in case. He smiled and kissed you so hard you swore your lips might bruise, then he told you he loved you a million times. 

“I love you,” You laugh, turning the keys in the ignition, “I’ll see you soon, Roos. Stay safe.”

“Drive safe, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you again,” He sighs, “Been too long already.”

You laugh and pull away from the curb, “Soon,” You promise, “I gotta go. I’ll call you later tonight. Fly safe.”

“Always,” He promises, “Just come on home to me, baby. Come on home.”

[undeaddollz]

patrick hockstetter analysis hi, i realize there was spelling mistakes on my henry bowers one but i'm really too lazy to go over it all and fix em so if theres some on here too then ignore it! don't come at me for the hypothetical disorders i'm saying patrick may have, i do believe he probably is on the spectrum somehow and i will not listen to anyone who says otherwise.

patrick is SO INTERESTING, the disorders that i suspect he has is possibly CIPA as he doesnt show much reaction to pain and possibly some sort of BPD or autism but im more sure of CIPA. but it's confirmed for him to have solipsism he doesnt think other people or things are real, the reason he killed his little brother avery is because he felt avery was real and his parents were taking attention away from him. he doesnt like deviating from his schedule, he expects dinner to be at the same time, parents to be in bed at a certain time every day but the baby took away from that and so he suffocated avery to death. i believe he also has a sort of god complex as he thinks he decides what happens in the world. he doesnt think him harming people and animals matters because they aren't real anyways and meerly toys for him so he doesnt get bored. we don't get a lot of background on patrick let alone his parents but the movie gives us jack-shit about him. he's obviously a pyromaniac and doesnt seem to have any reaction to pain, laughing when henry hurts him after patrick sexually assaults him. he has a sort of psychosis, he doesn't love anyone besides himself but its not in a narcissistic way. he doesnt really have attachments to anyone, his family could die and he'd just be worried about whats for dinner. he'd only be upset cause it ruins his schedule. He would be upset if bowers gang died but simply because they bring him entertainment and its someone to bully kids with. I feel he probably was subjected to some sort of trauma when he was younger, possibly sexual or some form of neglect. people arent usually born acting how patrick does and all the adults shown in derry seem to be abusive or neglectful. his favorite past time is to torture kids and animals, he enjoys taking their lives, he has a fridge full of tortured animal corpses, mainly cats. since the fridge is his favorite thing it gets used as a factor of his demise, after sexually assaulting henry he goes to his fridge and is killed by pennywise. he loves to spend time at the barrens/junkyard since thats where a lot of the violence happens, those places being frequent bowers gang hang out spots. Bowers gang is scared of him, most adults are too. theres rumors floating around of patricks hobbies so people often let him do whatever he wants as to not agitate him. I dont know if victor and belch exactly know about the fridge as its a little hidden away in the junkyard but henry knows, when patrick teases henry for "letting him" sexually assault him henry shouts "if you fucking tell anyone about this im telling everyone about your fridge and you'll be taken away" or something similar. Henry keeps him around since 1, hes deeply scared of patrick and doesnt want to anger him 2, he also finds ways to entertain henry, helping him blow off steam from the abuse at home on other kids and sometimes animals. henry seems to be a big fan of animals but when he starts to go crazy after patrick dies he shows similarities to patricks behavior, growing violent with dogs and cats and being more murder-driven with his bullying. patrick seems kind of obsessed with henry but it could just be finding henry useful or a good source of entertainment and he can torture henry to end up getting what he wants. patrick is only fueled by his own selfish desires, he has no exact motivation for doing anything, other than him deciding he wants to. psychosis can be drawn out by not sleeping sometimes and maybe patrick could suffer from hallucinations, in the movie it seems he's scared of what he's killed coming back to life but honestly i dont think thats really accurate as i dont think that is something he would think about and he already feels no guilt about it so i think it was just the movie being stupid again. so if he does have hallucinations i think he would be indifferent to them, maybe only being annoyed they arent always at the same time every day.

[lovetgr76]

S1e3 Bad Tradecraft *updated*

While there is no DIRECT Standish/Lamb interaction this episode, there is mention of… - so let's see what's going on this episode!!

Jumping into the episode… about 2/3 through, Lamb and Taverner are sitting on a bench next to the canal.  it’s past 2 am and they both look exhausted after trying to press each other’s buttons and finding out what the other knows without giving up anything themselves.

Taverner sighs… then tries to work the ONLY angle she knows works on Lamb… every time… Standish.

Was Moody alone when he died? – Taverner

We’re all alone in the end, don’t you think Diana.  In those final moments… – Lamb

If he did have company, that company might come under intense scrutiny. – Taverner

By all means, call in the Dogs.  And when they’re finished tearing you apart, maybe they’ll have enough strength to pick at the rest of this.  Either way I couldn’t give a monkey’s – Lamb

Even if it was Standish? – Taverner

                *This gets Lamb’s attention, and he looks at her the moment she mentions Standish, he’s seems upset, frustrated maybe, that she knows what to say… Lamb should have no weaknesses, no favorites, and yet… Taverner goes right for the jugular when she makes any type of threat against Standish.  His reaction seems visceral*

You’re tossin’ darts.  Standish wasn’t there.  She’s at home asleep. – Lamb

I’m not talking about tonight.  I’m talking about the night Charles Partner died.  Catherine Standish came very close to a treason charge.  That file could be reopened, reassessed. – Taverner

                *Lamb is seen shaking his head*

                *Another note to say – I always think…  how was Standish so surprised at Lamb’s revelation in S3 about Partner being a traitor – when she herself was accused of possible treason after his death? Because Taverner says this time they could make it stick – so it was at least attempted in the past? ... Lamb telling Standish that Partner wasn’t saving her he was (fuckin’) USING her!! – because Partner made it seem like she was doin’ the dirty – which tbh at first I took to mean they were having an affair – but then I realize it’s the trail of treason? That Taverner ends up threatening Lamb with here?... possibly? – open to other interpretations!!*

Didn’t fly then. It won’t fly now. – Lamb

A lot of other things might come out. – Taverner

                *Lamb leans in and seems to inflect a bit of a threat in his voice*

That is not a can of worms you want to open. – Lamb

Do I look keen?  Like it or not, Slough House is part of this now. You’ll all get turned over. Standish will find out some things it would be better for her not to know. – Taverner

                *My personal take on this is that Taverner couldn’t give a monkey’s about what’s better for Standish to know, she just likes having this to dangle over Lamb whenever she wants to manipulate him in some way.*

                *Lamb seems resigned to his fate here… leans back, crosses his legs and looks into his own lap, most likely telling himself, this is NOT a weakness, you’re still a badass spy without any feelings or attachments at all, ever…* (giggles)

I’ll go knock on the door for you. But in return, I want the Standish file. – Lamb

                *Taverner appears visibly surprised at that request, but appears to nod in acquiescence*

                *Lamb makes sure he gets a visible agreement from her before continuing*

And you’ve been using Slough House as your personal toy box, which pisses me off. Are we clear? – Lamb

Crystal. – Taverner

No, there’s more. Moody disappears.  Baker, a victim of street crime. Anyone with me tonight is fireproof. Oh! And you are in my debt until you’re in a care home. – Lamb

God, you really care about them, don’t you? – Taverner

Nah.  I think they’re a bunch of fucking losers. *pause* But they’re MY Losers – Lamb

[meekmedea]

au idea: child of divorce

Except it's not really a divorce, unless you count it in terms of friendship. Because it's Hector and Max. And the child in question is actually a grandchild.

Another Hector Lives AU? (someone please stop me)

Hector & Cleopatra take in Clemensia after her parents pass in a car crash. (Foul play? Maybe. Coincidentally, a month later, a few people pass away in a series of unfortunate accidents)

Cleopatra still dies when the building they live in collapses - might have lived had she not gone in for something of Endymion's.

Hector is devastated - First his son. Now his wife. His home is gone too. All he has left is Clemmie, who's like 5 at this point.

Max offering up the presidential estate to him to figure out where to go from here. Their friendship is a bit rocky by this point, but it's not so terrible that Hector would refuse the offer.

It's meant to be a temporary thing, but as the war gets worse, they both agree that it's safer (for Clemensia) to be raised here than somewhere else.

Also Max is a bit worried that Hector is going to go off the deep end if Clemmie gets hurt.

2 old men attempting to raise a child together. Except it's mostly Hector. Max tries, but he offers up questionable advice at times. Prompting Hector to be like 🤨🤨 how did you raise your nieces and nephews by yourself again?

Clemmie ends up calling him 'Uncle Magnus'. Because it's a bit weird to have the kid living in your house call you 'Mr. President'.

Possibly the only kid that Max actually taught how to play piano and ended up sticking to it. Hector can't play to save his life.

A bit of a strange childhood. Very polite kid though.

Knows how to swear in a multitude of languages (Max's fault. Also maybe Hector's fault).

Max: $%^&* 😤 Clemmie, age 5: $%^&* 😊 Max, realizing with horror that there was a child in the vicinity: Clemensia, if I give you ice cream, can you never repeat that again?

Nearly convinced Max to let her have a dog – Hector intervened and said 'no' just before Max gave in.

She is convinced for the longest time that Max's real name was Magnus. Gave the adult Ravinstills a little shock when she was like 'Uncle Magnus!! 😊' and they just stared at Max, like "Who is this kid???"

Mpreg rumours are so strong in this AU. Doesn't matter that they're in the middle of a war, but the Ravinstills (sans Max) are convinced that Hector & Max had/have a thing. Nobody is denying that Clemmie is Endymion's daughter. But Endymion is also dead and unable to defend himself from the Ravinstill Lovechild allegations.

Not sure where Volumnia stands on the allegations. She does know of Clemmie's existence, Hector straight-up introduced her as "This is my semi-friend, Volumnia."

Volumnia doesn't get to be an aunt or anything. It's Dr. Gaul.

'Divorce' with the end of the war, especially with the announcement of the Hunger Games.

Hector (after a shouting match with Max that the entire estate heard) immediately moved out, took Clemmie with him.

Neither of them really interact post-'divorce'

Felix & Clemmie are friends, but there's a part of him always wondering if she's his cousin or something.

Hector doesn't mind their friendship.

Dovecotes & their heart issues

A little bit of a health scare for Hector with his heart when Clemensia is around 9-10. Winds up in the hospital.

The staff are a bit perplexed on who to call. Since Hector is her guardian and her parents are dead.

Nothing serious for Hector, but they want him to stay overnight. And Clemensia can't stay overnight.

They let her call someone to pick her up. She sort of panics and calls Max. (In hindsight, she could have called her mother's side of the family.)

Max could say no, but he doesn't. (In hindsight, he could have dropped her off with her mother's family, but he didn't.) He lets her stay over at the presidential estate. Clemmie's bedroom is exactly as she left it.

Hector waking up in the morning: you let who pick her up again??? what do you mean, you just let him take her? that's not even his kid!

[bluelolblue]

My Love Mine All Mine

Note: October 26th was the date my cat Vitko, my best childhood friend, passed away. It's been 8 or 9 years since he passed away, and I still mourn him. He was a beautiful white cat with green eyes, a majestic little gentleman, and I like to think he looks after my dog Lara and me. I chose the title "My Love Mine All Mine," which is a song by Mitski because it really reminds me of him and because of course I still love him so much.

So, this ficlet is a tribute to him. He deserves it, and I still miss him 🤍

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

“I miss you my friend.” Santino would always say after returning back home. A few pictures of his childhood pet, a beautiful white cat were still on his desk, keeping him company every time.

Santino loved animals, especially dogs and cats, he would always feed the strays if he had something with him. Anything to keep them alive. However he prepared himself better, bought cat food for the stray cats that would spend their time in his garden.

There was a black, tuxedo, orange and a tortoiseshell one and she was the only female. They all looked the same age, they were young, so Santino guessed they were siblings. D'Antonio garden became their home once they realized Santino wouldn't hurt or chase them. They were all unique, each had their personalities and Santino thought that was amazing. He would often watch them through his window how they would play, clean each other, eat together but also respect each other.

Today, he went to feed them again. They greeted him with lots of meowing and rubbing against his legs, making him almost trip over them but he managed to get to the bowls.

“I know, you all are probably very hungry. It's not like I fed you in the morning,” he smiled to himself as he poured some dry cat food into the bowls. “Just don't eat too fast.” Well, they immediately started eating, probably a bit faster for a start.

Young D'Antonio smiled and shaked his head, finding them cute how they were eating like they never ate before. He sat by a small table next to cats to watch them. The garden was pretty, maybe a little sad ever since his mother died, but if the cats still liked it, he liked it too. After all, too many memories to just give up on it.

The orange cat rubbed against his leg, wrapping its tail around and loudly purring. Santino leaned to pet his head and scratch his favorite spot behind his ear. He would always think they thank him for the food that way, when they come for scratches and pats. “You're very pretty… why are you a stray?” D'Antonio murmured softly as the cat purred some more and rubbed its face over his leg. “Why did you choose this place to spend time?”

Other cats joined them, lying down, cleaning themselves, purring next to Santino. He knew a lot of work was waiting for him in his office, but he didn't want to leave, not when it was a nice afternoon, the cats were fed and the air felt fresh. “I just want to stay here a little longer,” he sighed and closed his eyes, inhaling the air, relaxing to the sound of cats purring. He could've dozed off like this, it was calm, there was no yelling, no people, just him, cats and the breeze rustling through the leaves.

He opened his eyes again after the cat food bag fell over from the wind, blinking as he realized he almost fell asleep. He winced when made a sudden movement, already almost getting stiff like this. “I'll make myself coffee,” he said and groaned as he stood up. “And write down that I need to buy new chairs.”

The cats waited patiently for their… friend to return back, a tuxedo one watched Santino through the glass door, flipping his tail playfully as if he was asking D'Antonio to play with him.

“What is it, little one?” Santino asked softly as he walked back outside with a cup of coffee in his hand. “Little gentleman,” he chuckled. It's a nickname he had given to the tuxedo one.

He sat back at his spot and took a few sips of his beverage, enjoying the company of his little friends. Animals were better than people, they would never hurt him physically or emotionally, never insult him, never take advantage of him, never use him just to get what they want. They are grateful for what Santino was doing for them, every animal showed that in their own way.

Santino looked back into the garden where the roses were and noticed something. There was a white cat. At first he wasn't sure if his tired eyes were playing tricks on him, so he blinked a few times and realized that it was a real white cat. He placed his cup on the table, and took a few pieces of dry food so he could get it to trust him better. It reminded him of his best childhood friend.

The cat was near the roses, sniffing them and the ground, it looked relaxed and was not altered when Santino came closer. It looked up at him with its green eyes.

“Oh, hi… you're beautiful,” he said softly as he crouched down and let the cat sniff his hand. He couldn't stop looking at it, observing it. It was a male, his fur was pure white, he didn't even look like a stray. “Are you lost? Or… were you abandoned?” He felt silly asking that, obviously a cat won't answer him.

He gave him a few pieces of cat food and the cat ate out of his hand just fine. Surely this was someone's cat. “You look so familiar,” he whispered as he scratched under the feline's chin, and it looked like the cat loved it, purring loudly.

The feline rubbed against his leg, already leaving white hair over his pants but he didn't care, he continued to pet him. “You look just like him. He was beautiful, majestic like you, had those pretty green eyes and loved to cuddle.” It's been years since his childhood pet passed away, and he was still thinking about him, still had every picture he could find.

He was taking care of him the most, feeding him, playing with him, letting him sleep on his bed with him. Santino's father usually complained about the cat hair, since it was white it was more visible on anything and Signore D'Antonio hated seeing cat hair on his pants or sheets or anywhere. He hated Santino's cat, he wanted him gone, but luckily Santino had his mother and Gianna who were on his side, so the cat stayed for some time.

“So many tears were spilled into his fur, I spent nights crying into him. I felt bad for soaking his fur like that, but he didn't seem to mind. He was purring, always trying to calm me down,” Santino said, smiling at the feline but his smile looked mournful. “I miss him. He was the best cat I've ever had, my only friend, my everything.”

It looked like the cat was actually paying attention to his words and meowed at him, pushing its head against his palm for more pats. D'Antonio took a deep breath in and out, swallowing his sudden urge to cry. Dammit, it hurt his throat and chest, just like it always did.

“You're too sweet. Oh, you're really like him,” he breathed out with a shaky laugh. “You must be hungry and there are others who could be your new friends.” He stood up, looking over the four cats who were relaxing nearby. He whispered to the white cat, offering one more treat so he would follow him.

Other cats seemed interested, sniffing and greeting the majestic white feline that joined them. “Ah, you're getting along,” Santino smiled and poured some fresh cat food into a bowl only for the new member.

D'Antonio returned back to his coffee, watching over the cat enjoying the meal. He doesn't remember the last time he had seen a white stray cat, they were rare, unique and they all reminded him of his cat.

“I'm sure he would've liked you if he…” Santino paused and exhaled slowly, “Was still alive. Like… an older brother.” The white feline looked up at him, ate only a little bit and walked towards him, purring and having its tail up.

Santino hummed in surprise after he took a sip of his coffee and the cat jumped on his lap. “Oh, hey,” he chuckled softly, gently caressing the cat's head, going along his back. “You're really here for the cuddles, huh?” It looked like that was true since the feline nested on his lap, as if he was ready for a nap on Santino.

Other cats seemed to get ready for a nap, too. Snuggling against each other on the floor next to Santino's legs. “Afternoon nap, I see,” D'Antonio smiled, gently caressing the back of the white cat’s neck. “I hope you'll stay. I… I hope you're no one's cat because I really want to keep you. Or… at least that you visit me every day.” That would be nice. He was even ready to let this one in his house.

The nostalgia that hit Santino overwhelmed him for some time. The memories that he still cherished, playing in the garden with his best friend who was a cat… a place he buried him. Something was stinging his eyes, he blinked, realizing that was because of the tears he was holding back.

“He wasn't supposed to die… if only I was more careful. If only I was there,” Santino whispered, “I should've been a better owner… a better friend. But, dammit…” he cursed under his breath, “It wasn't fair that it happened.”

It was better not to think about it again, for his own sake. He should be happy, there is the exact same cat in his lap right now. The cat could probably feel Santino's emotions, leaning into his palm and purring loudly.

Santino decided he should enjoy this moment, it reminded him of the good days and he should relax. So, he did exactly that, his hand was resting on top of the white cat while with the other he continued to hold his cup of coffee. It was better to rest after a long morning of meeting with different business people who were loud and only wanted to argue with him. Sure, he himself had a silver tongue, most people thought he was a ruthless mafia boss and he was, but he wasn't just that.

It was a pretty view from afar, to see Santino D'Antonio with cats, outside of his business. He probably wouldn't seem that serious if anyone saw him like this. Only one man would never judge him, knowing that Santino has a soft soul. So soft it got crushed by life, deformed until it became a violent thing.

John watched him by his car, noticing that gentle smile on D'Antonio's face as he patted the cat. It was not something anyone could see often, a Camorra prince surrounded with stray cats. Seeing him truly happy was always heartwarming, at least for John and he wished he saw him more like this.

The white cat looked adorable in his lap, Santino was murmuring something to it, John noticed. He didn't want to disturb Santino's peace, so he stayed where he was, observing him for a few more minutes, enjoying a rare moment.

That white cat was probably going to stay for a longer time.

[millerflintstone]

I got home at about 10:40 ish and that was not expected. I was hoping it would be 8:30 pm ish. Herein lies a tale ...

Unfriendly stopped in after he got off of work at 5 to pet Gigabyte and see how she was. She basically greeted him by peeing. I had told her at about 4:50 ish pm that he would be coming soon and she perked up. She's got a lot going on with her legs what with her IV line and the fact that it changed paws. They added a new line for blood draws to a hind leg so she really could not stand herself up all day today. She started trying to move herself to her small litter pan and could not. I asked Unfriendly to pick her up and I slid it under her and she basically just let go of her bladder as soon as she sensed it.

After that, she passed out again. We went to go get some dinner, planning to get back by 7:15 so that the doctor coming on the shift would be finished with the team huddle. We had burgers at a trendy-ish place and then went back to the ER

It started picking up with the after work emergencies a little after we came back in. He headed home. I wanted to stay because I knew I wouldn't be able to rest unless I knew the latest numbers.

A little after he left, a blonde, skinny lady came in yelling, "She's dying! She's barely breathing! She's almost dead! Please help!"

It was neat to see the team just swoop into action, but I couldn't see the dog because most of the med team was assembled on the other side from where Gigabyte was. I heard the lady explaining very loudly that her older, senile, bigger dog just lost it and started flipping out. That dog attacked the smaller dog who had a chunk taken out of her neck and had apparently split her tongue and possibly hurt her head.

I noticed the lady's husband (?) was there also and he was so quiet compared to her. I heard one of the techs or maybe a doctor (there are 2 on each shift) or the office manager try to talk to this woman in soothing tones. It didn't seem to help because I heard her saying something like, "She's all I have left. I'll die if she dies."

The way this lady affected the energy in the room was palpable. I could feel my own anxiety and had to push it away. I noticed Gig struggling again and this time she just used the pee pad she was on. I asked a free tech to help me get her a new pad. As she settled back in, she started falling asleep again. I figured it would be worse if she felt my anxiety while I gave her pets, so I closed her cage and went to the waiting room after I told the tech that helped me that I was just waiting to talk to the doctor when she was free and that I'd be in the lobby.

More doggies had come in for help at that point and one kitty. I realized I needed to turn in my work file. I told the front desk rep I'd be back and did that. Took me about 15 minutes because I ran into an issue. By the time I walked back, the cops were out front.

A lady who had been waiting with her dog when we came in at 7:15 ish am was outside and filled me in. Apparently the blonde lady threatened to kill herself and her husband if the dog died. I'm sure whatever protocol they have in those situations kicked in and the cops were contacted. When the blonde lady saw the cops coming into the ER, she flipped out. Basically a "how dare you?" reaction and then she LUNGED AT A DOCTOR with the cops there and everything.

Then they cleared the triage area of people who were there with their pets and some folks just stayed in the lobby. I didn't go into the lobby because the cops were questioning the lady.

They ended up getting her dog transferred to the ER/ Specialist group that I took Gigabyte to for her neuro and ophthalmology consults. The lady I chatted with who filled me in on what I missed, told me she saw the dog and she looked very rough. I saw the little gurney he was on when they wheeled him out and felt for the pupper. It's bad enough to be injured but I'm sure feeling her human's histrionics did not help. I wouldn't call her a Karen, though. They both reminded me of FL beach trashy folks from the Ft. Lauderdale area. I say that as an unfortunate FL native that grew up Dade and Broward counties.

Anyway!

Gigabyte is continuing to trend better. Her BUN is down to 68 from her high of 128 and creatinine is 5. Her normal is 4. Her highest was too high to read but was about 10 or 11 when the sample was diluted. Her temperature is also getting a bit higher. It was 99 at the last check vs 97 when they took her off me and put her on heat support. 101-102 is normal for kitties. So, we shall see if she gets to go home tomorrow.

[ran-orimoto]

{ Buon Natale, guys! Buon Natale to you, I wish you all a Christmas full of love and peace, wherever you are💕. Like every year, a present for all my friends following me here. Thank you for your friendship. This Christmas can be colorful especially at the thought of you all, far or near, smiling joyfully. }

[ Note: This is set after the jelousy request story, so after Fenice Threatre’s prima night. It’s a follow-up featuring a quieter and relaxed Junpei being able to savour his time in Venice. Of course , how could he fully enjoy this new reality around without Izumi showing him…Things.]

• Tutti gli incanti nascosti nel maestrale veneziano •

In the period opening its doors to Christmas, to the italian Natale, he observed Venice changing its appearance like a lady preparing herself for a night party, by enwrapping her body in a dress covered in minuscule twinkles and adorning herself with sparkling jewels.

While strolling around that city of surprises, risking to get lost in the narrowing venetian calle , he could see those pendants of hers shimmering on the blurred waves, stars having taken a dive in the chilled channels and looking like precious stones thrown in the greenish depths.

A couple of ticks hitting the rocky patchwork of the ground, stopping for a second and then growing more and more confident in their accelerating pace, made the corners of his mouth stretch on their own. She had finally found him and he felt like she had managed to retrieve his soul as well. Actually, she immersed her lively spirit in the agitated stream and once found his ensnared one, she pulled as hard as she could, right before a gondola crashed against their souls clinging on each other.

“They all look the same to me, after having been here so many times,” She commented as she pulled his gloved hand again to draw him even closer. “But your excitement is very contagious. Maybe, now that I think about it, too much…” She added with a shaking of her head when she noticed he had started cheerfully waving at a merry gondoliere rowing below the bridge. She was aware he would have joined the chorus of the curious tourists looking up at him, if she hadn’t dragged him far from the cold sill.

“It’s just that…” He began in confusion, turning back at the spot she had made him part from. He took a while to realize, wide eyed, she didn’t seem to want to let his hand go. That was the reason why whatever he wanted to say about Venice’s beauty, all those wonders he could contemplate now that Fenice theatre’s prima night had ended, died on his lips.

“It’s just that…?” She prompted, eventually exploding in a laughter at the sight of his dumbfounded face. “Do you want to talk to my back until we get home ? Come here. You’re not a dog on a leash, aren’t you? A bulldog needing to be groomed?”

“At least, you didn’t pick a poodle”.

He did what she told, placing himself next to her with a, - luckily -, inaudible gulp. Suddenly, in his nostrils the typical brackish smell of the venetian lagoon left room for the fresh breeze of her perfume to blow in the air. In his chocolate irises the scenario of a vain Venice in feast mixed with the vivid dream of a tall, gorgeous young woman in soft silk, standing on the red carpet of a foyer ’s stairs. And, finally, on his engulfed skin there was her palm, her delicate palm he found the courage to squeeze tightly as soon as they found themselves in a crowded sea. Now, as physically connected as they were, they could have never lost sight of each other, he chuckled at himself in utter delight.

“What have you bought?” He asked her, feeling invigorated by the stronger wind navigating the dim sky of the gloaming. Thanks to the inheritance Fairymon had left in her being, she usually was the one feeling a strong bond with the gusts of the atmosphere and its colours, but ,somehow, out of blue, he felt like he had become terribly sensitive to Nature and its breath as well. It seemed…Venice had casted a spell upon him; had poured an enchanted rain over him, one dotted with drops of gold and emeralds , just like the ones of San Marco’s Basilica.

“You will see after dinner,” Her reply was dry, but it got betrayed by one of her mischievous grins she didn’t manage to suppress in time. It enlarged when his free hand reached out, aiming at hers, or better, at the bag she was concealing behind her hip.

“W-Wait, you’re staying for dinner?” She didn’t really need to do that, though, since his fingers froze on his belly, twitching at the edge of that vertiginous ravine she had digged.

“Sure, like yesterday and the day before yesterday,” She shrugged as if she had just given him the most obvious answer and, in truth, now that he could think about it with a sweetly shocked mind, she actually was right. Indeed, going through the amiable meals they had shared in those days, it dawned on him it had been more than stupid to ask her if she wanted to stay.

It was just that he had planned to cook for her for a change and, -to his ears-, it kept on sounding like something official, more like a polite invitation from gentleman to a marvelous lady. Consequently, in his fantasy, the special occasion had the shape of a table covered by a refined cloth, -it seemed so easy to find products of high quality manufacture in Venice-, a bottle of good wine on it awaiting to be uncorked, two elegant diners sitting at the two heads of the table.

But he had forgot again Izumi might seem to be a diva wanting all those attentions, whereas, in reality, she didn’t want them at all. She surprisingly adored munching on sticky chicken legs while holding them with her hands, which had really made him the happiest man on Earth. She could hardly disappoint him , after all. Who was a true let down, instead, was just him and his mistaken perseverance in trying getting her to like him through the most contrived gimmicks. He was learning but it was a challenge to break his negative habits, even if he had finally started seeing how much better he was feeling living like that, genuinely.

That evening he was still in time.

“I was asking because I wasn’t certain you really want to taste my tortini, panna e prosciutto, eh eh,” If that dinner was going to be another one among many from the past and, hopefully, many, so many from the near and distant future, there was no point in acting mysteriously.

He had predicted she wouldn’t be so convinced about his initiative but, man, he would have never imagined she would abruptly stop walking and look at him like that. He wanted to cook her tortini, panna e prosciutto in honour of the first italian recipe she had taught him during his stay in the boot-shaped peninsula. Before her first visit, whenever he got tired of buying ready-made meals or pizza, he would prepare pasta and tuna, -pasta al tonno-, but Izumi hadn’t been impressed at all about the way he wouldn’t add lemon, slices of tomato or tomato sauce. His was just pasta al tonno. Literally. With the only addition of the questionable oil coming from the can. As far as concerned broth, that brodo vegetale from a little recollection of his university days and her high school ones in Japan…Well, he could say a busy tenor from La Fenice had no time for such complex and long procedures at the hobbs. “Ehm…I can cook pasta al to-“

“Listen to me, Junpei,” She tightened the grip on his hand so much he could swear his blood had ceased circulating.

“Yes…?“ He really was about to pass out in front of her like a salami.

Silent tension choking him without mercy. Dying in the unique, splendid Venice might not be that bad, though, he told himself to hang onto a minuscule horizon of light.

“Junpei, it’s tortellini . Tor. Tel. Li. Ni.”

Was it better to lose consciousness in front of the girl you like or to mess up her second language?

“Tor…Terrini,” He tentatively repeated, squeezing his orbs because he was aware no L had been pronounced by his tied tongue. And to think he had been practicing that alien sound so many times at home, believing he had mastered it after so many falls.

At his embarassing blunder, Izumi bursted into a melodious laughter, at least. That made the baked potato she had roasted under his flat hat cool its boiling temperature down.

“So you’re going to be my personal chef tonight?” It was weird she had already changed the subject of their conversation, letting his ashaming italian be the one getting lost in Venice’s labyrinth that time, but he wasn’t going to complain about it.

“I’ll try,” He gulped as at that point his confidence had completely melted like bouillon cube in hot water.

“This reply doesn’t sound reasurring at all. I’m glad I bought something else. Howsoever it goes, don’t worry about starving. It won’t absolutely happen.”

XXX

She decided to really call whatever he had prepared tortini, panna e prosciutto, and he fervently agreed with her, -strong nods included,- despite his initial desire to throw that thing in some channel. If Izumi hadn’t decided to follow him to his apartment and hadn’t been waiting on the sofa for the whole time, he would have really gone out and run that risk. The window could have been another good, indeed, brilliant solution, if every neighbour of his hadn’t owned a hateful awning covering their balcony. If that had been the case, Izumi wouldn’t have found him panicking and being about to stick a whole pan in the bin.

And, by the way, he wouldn’t have got a sonorous slap from her like in the good old days, either, even if now he had just been spotted wasting food.

It would have been funny, comical, absolutely hilarious if she had walked out on him because of that, but ,fortunately, she hadn’t. On the contrary, after having given him an apologetic caress on his cheek, she had placed the pot on the fire again, had tasted that mush, - showing him she really was the bravest young woman out there!-, and, finally, had poured her magic on it. It was one even a wizard at heart like him couldn’t fully understand. What he only could say was that what used to taste like…Ehm, WC water, was now making his taste buds dance.

“So, so, what are you going to show me?” He asked her once he had finished swallowing the last slice of his pear. He was wearing the excitement of a kid and her rubbing hands weren’t really telling of a different story.

“What are you taking about?” She still tried teasing him, though, even while her arms were diving in the bag lying at her feet.

“That bag is giant! It must be something really big! You can’t fool me, Izumi.”

For once that day he had done something right, which had been guessing the size of her surprise: it was big but also incredibly delicious. Though he didn’t know what those two boxes she was drumming her fingers on actually contained inside, the sight of promotional images of chocolate on them were enough for him to blindly believe those two sort of cakes were going to found a paradise in his mouth.

His instinct suggested him there was no reason to wait, so he reached out only to get a new playful slap on his hand.

“Before starting, you have to choose one of them,” Her raised index underlined a solemn atmosphere around her and, most of all, highlighted his disappointment.

“What does it mean you want me to choose only one of them? Weren’t we talking about food waste an hour ago?”

“It’s either panettone or pandoro,” Her fingers tiptoed on the round angles of the cardboard pyramids as she finally revealed the identity of those delicacies. “Italians fight over which is the best between them. Every year.”

“How do you think I could express a judgement if you don’t let me taste them at the same moment?” She would have to persuade him at the best of her capabilities, if she wanted his upsetting pout to go away.

“Let’s say I want to play with you and see if we have got the same preferences about this matter too. During my first Christmas in Italy, Mamma made me do the same,” She took some seconds to collect her memories about her toddler self experimenting Italy for the first time. Her alluring orbs fluttered to the ceiling in the process, not noticing the dreamy gaze staring at her with sweetened interest: after all, if he had landed in Italy to pursue his career, it was mostly thanks to her, thanks to all those tales she would share with him in Digiworld, those tales about that country she dearly missed and all the food she would still beg her mother to cook in Japan. It was the everlasting effect of another charm of hers, an impalpable one she held in herself without knowing. “Mamma and Papà took me to a big supermarket near to the Colosseo and we bought lot of food I didn’t know about. After that Christmas Eve, we left for the mountains, for Val di Fassa in Trentino. It was our first holiday through Italy.”

“So,” He gave room for another taciturn moment to unfold before catching her dazed attention. “Which one did you pick?”

“Oh, right I picked pan- Ah!” The third slap of the night was addressed to her chatty lips.

“Pan…?” He grinned widely, enjoying those few chances he had to tease her back.

“Non vale, Junpei! Not fair. You have to make a choice.”

“Oh, it’s only that I’m feeling under pressure,” Those chances, however, didn’t really last that long. They never did. Deeply in his soul, he had already accepted he would soon find himself desperately sniffling in front of those boxes.

“You chose to accept an invitation to an unknown land when you were eleven and now…? Moreover, this should be an intriguing puzzle for The Great Detective Shibayama.”

There was no need to count the times she had been right throughout the day, but the fact she was didn’t make him feel better.

“I know!” Allowing his tense back to rest against the chair, he snapped his fingers at an idea knocking on the door of his paralyzed brain. “Which one is usually made with more chocolate?”

“Are you serious?”

“You can’t tell me this ,either?”

Once they had come back home, he had closed the windows because venetian winters seemed to be so stubborn in the stirring of their mistral’s waves. Nevertheless , there might still be some window opened somewhere, since he had started feeling the tide of a light breeze washing over his face in thrilled expectation, fresh enough to calm its excessive warmth down. He hoped her cheeks could be blessed by such a pleasantly-cold wind as well, since maybe she had been sitting too close to the heaters and they had grown so flushed, almost feverish-like.

“I’m just regretting having bought special versions. You know, both traditional recipes don’t include chocolate, Junpei. I bought them…Oh mio Dio, for you.”

He had definitely left a window opened, or maybe that was just another sprinkle of arcane magic he was finding out about that night, along with her.

“So, we are eating both?” The rumble of a thunder wasn’t well-welcomed in the ballroom of a breeze, so it had sounded shy, hesitant, concealing reserved wishes as it extended its hand.

“We are eating both.”

[dee-in-the-box]

so, because i'm considering making a comic about The Prologue of Dsaf (basically, everything that happened pre-Dsaf 1, as well as maybe a little bit into the beginning of Dsaf 1), at least my headcanons for it, i thought i'd just list a few in text form, 'cause some of them might not be too clear whenever i get this comic made:

Dee's hair is darker than Jack's, and Peter's is darker than Dee. all of their hair colors are a different shade of red/ginger.

Peter moved out of Jack and Dee's house when he got engaged to Caroline.

Dee is quite literally just as chaotic as Jack is. makes sense, given he was the one she was around the most.

Jack told Dee that if anyone was being a dick to her (or was, in any way, trying to seriously hurt her), she could just bite them. maybe also scratch them like a cat. yes, Jack did (and still does, kinda) bite people. why do you think he taught her how to do that?

so, i've mentioned a couple of times how Jack is a trans man. he had a nickname, "Jackie," which was uh. a shortened version of his deadname. technically, he was only fully comfortable with Dee, Peter, and Caroline calling him that, but he didn't really protest when his employers/coworkers would call him that, and would even encourage them to do so, because, in his eyes, it's better than being referred to by his deadname.

Jack got a job at Fredbear's as a technician and nightguard when Peter moved out, a few months before Dee's murder.

Henry was actually the first employer of Jack's who both actually called him "Jack" and referred to him as a guy. Jack, at the time, viewed this as a good sign that this job would work out perfectly fine.

Jack and Dave actually talked a few times and would ""jokingly"" flirt with each other. this may or may not have also been the thing that got both of them to realize that they aren't straight.

Jack actually bought Dee a small stuffed kitten as a birthday present, a little red bow wrapped around its neck. nowadays, he uses it as a reminder of who he's doing all of this for.

Dee understood that Jack and Peter had to work so much to support her, but it still made her sad :(

neither Jack nor Peter were going to be able to be with Dee for her birthday due to work, so they both decided to schedule a birthday party for her at Fredbear's, so that she could still have a good day :]

Jack dropped her off, promised he'd be back at around six, and that they could even have a little birthday celebration at home that night before Jack had to leave for work. he'd even bring chocolate cupcakes, her favorite! he kisses her head, tells her goodbye, and then leaves. i believe we all know the rest from there.

Jack, on the night he died, wanted to check the cameras to see if there was any footage of Dee or the other children before they went missing. sure enough, there was.

also that night, before Jack went to do his job, he noticed a visible bite mark, as well as scratches, on Henry's arm. upon pointing it out, Henry tried lying and claiming that he just simply got attacked by a dog. Jack, a dog owner himself, told Henry he didn't believe him; he knows what a dog bite looks like, after all.

(looks like Dee took his advice, doesn't it?)

look, when i say that The Real Fredbear assigned Jack to be a partial dogboy, i'm not joking. he's got dog teeth now, he can literally make dog sounds (may or may not be based off of the Confusing Ending for Dsaf 2), he's got paw pads (kinda), he has claws. like, he might not have ears or a tail, but trust me: he's kinda sorta part dog now.

Henry: "So you see, William, I have the guy right here-" (suit is incredibly fucking empty, almost like nothing was ever in there to begin with) Henry: "..." William: "So...where's he at? Did you move 'im-?" Henry: "Fuck."

Peter blames Jack in the sense of "Why weren't you there to protect her?" the only reason Peter didn't let Jack stay with him was because he knew the police would be looking for him.

Jack scratched the word "LIAR" into Henry's car, and smashed the glass.

Peter may or may not have sued to clear his brother's name. and he did it by using the undeniable evidence of: JACK'S LITERAL BOSS SAYING THAT HE WAS WORKING THAT DAY AND COULDN'T HAVE COMMITTED THE MURDER. SERIOUSLY, HE SAW THE GUY WORKING NONSTOP ALL DAY HOW THE ACTUAL FUCK WOULD HE HAVE SOMEHOW SLIPPED AWAY TO COMMIT AN ACTUAL MURDER-

Peter began to suspect that Henry was hiding something. he got a job at a Freddy's location to get close enough to Henry to get the man to spill the beans. unfortunately, he died before that could happen.

however, what he witnessed on the day of his death...it did make him realize that Henry wasn't just hiding something: he was the motherfucker that killed Dee and tried to frame his brother.

Peter died having finally learned the truth...and then immediately had his memory wiped-

Jack and Henry nearly crossed paths several times. it's lucky for Henry that they never did, though; because Jack wanted to rip that fucker apart himself, consequences be damned.

i already have. another post talking about Blackjack specifically. go see that for details.

pretty much all of the Kennedy siblings after they died: FUCK Henry, all of my homies HATE Henry!!

that's about it for now. this is all stuff PRE-Dsaf 1. who knows when i'll get the beginning of the comic finished, but i'll try and work on it later. enjoy the headcanons in the meantime. :]

[badass-at-fandoming]

Day 1: Mafia AU

Hey @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady, I also want to meet this challenge!

For the Mafia AU prompt, I pondered who would fit well into an organized crime alternate universe. Mid-ponder, my phone pinged and reminded me to play Dazai's route in Ikemen Vampire. This ping also reminded me that somebody has already put Dazai in a mafia AU. So here's a redraw of a Bungo Stray Dogs screenshot, with Ikemen Vampire's rendition of Dazai. Here is the anime screenshot:

To make it like, related to love, below the Read More is a snippet from my fanfiction. This fanfic is more like a personal bonsai project than one for a03. Unless someone really wants a Nakahara Chūya/Dazai Osamu mpreg. For those unfamiliar with Bungo Stray Dogs, Dazai was a teenage soldier in an organized crime syndicate called the Port Mafia. Chūya was from a different gang, the Sheep, until Dazai recruited him into the Port Mafia. Dazai recruited Chūya for incredibly practical reasons and NOT because he wanted Chūya to himself. Evidence: the above screenshot of Dazai looking at other people paying Chūya attention with definitely no jealously or contempt. In the fic, Dazai is a trans man, Chūya unknowingly impregnantes him, and Dazai goes into hiding to have the baby, Fumiya. Dazai is currently raising Fumiya on his own.

The nurses said it was good to talk to babies, and Dazai is surprised how good it feels to talk. “Let me tell you about your father, Fumiya.”

Dazai places the tiny fedora on Fumiya’s tiny head. It fits, sort of. “Once upon a time, there was a young god. It did nothing but contemplate its navel all day. Like this.” Dazai pokes Fumiya’s belly button through his brown dress. Fumiya’s face scrunches, like he’s thinking deeply about the story, or belly buttons, or maybe why Dazai’s face is like that.

“In fact, there was no day or night for it. Very boring. No stars. No moon. Only a single room with no books or blankets or delivery meals. But the godling didn’t need to eat so it was okay.

“One day—or night—a yellow hand reached out, grabbed the godling, and yanked him into the human world. The yellow hand put the god into a child’s stomach, so the god would have a body. The body looked just like you. Same red hair. The ‘it’ became ‘he.’ You can do that too, Fumiya. Don’t have to be ‘he’ forever,” Dazai explains.

“The god was raised by wolves who wore sheepskin. They taught him to walk, to eat, to read, to write. I can’t tell if the god knew about their hidden sharp teeth. He recognized them as mortals, and he knew he was a god. According to the stories, gods are meant to care for mortals. He protected them, they thanked him, and he thought that was good enough. It wasn’t until he met the boy with no face that he realized the wolves were worshiping all wrong.”

Dazai smooths the back of his finger down Fumiya’s cheek. “Worshipers are supposed to love, and to fear. These wolves were gluttonous. They had a god on their side and feared nothing. They took advantage of the god’s kindness and betrayed him when convenient.

“The No-face boy might have helped it along, but it didn’t matter to him. What mattered is he’d met a god. I call him ‘no face’ because he had a face, but had forgotten how to use it. He didn’t have the energy to smile or laugh or cry. Inside, he was numb. He possessed the basic animal aversion to pain, but that was his single preference. He didn’t care if he lived or died. He reminded the god of home, of the emptiness without night or day.

“The god knew the emptiness was boring as all hell. Compared to the brightness and variety of the human world, the emptiness was hell. Far better to annoy and pick fights with the no-face boy. The no-face boy liked picking fights back, so they had a good relationship. Slowly, the boy regained use of his face.

“The god granted the boy benevolence. He granted the best seat in the house for witnessing the line between life and death. Adrenaline and beauty were the god’s provenance. In exchange, the boy worshiped the god in the proper manner. When Mori-san assigned Chūya to Kōyō-san’s mentorship, I saw red, Fumiya. Chūya was meant to be mine, and no one else’s. I yelled and stamped my feet��like a child’s tantrum. In revenge for separating us, I separated Chūya from Mori-san. I made sure they were never alone. I protected Chūya from mortals’ schemes. Chūya made me not want to die. He’s everything I’m not, and opposites need each other to exist.”

Dazai clears his throat. “Apologies. I was telling a story.”

[languageshead]

The day I found out about death

CW: pet loss, loss, death, grief

I got my dog when I was 6 years old. Doctors told my parents it would help my autism. At that age I was fully nonverbal learning how to use AAC. My beautiful Lhasa Apso was 5 months old when she came home and we bonded instantanously. I felt to her as I had never felt with anyone else. I learned so much from her, my speech improved, my social skills, motor skills. We were so perfect together my parents decided to get her pregnant after two years. My neighbor had a Lhasa around the same age and that's how I got another baby Lhasa.

In 2020 we found out the older one had heart disease. At first, I couldn't understand how bad it was, but after her heart stopped for the first time I felt like my world was falling apart. We knew she was going to die when she did. Doctors had told us. On that day, dad took me to the mountains. We stayed there the whole day. When we returned home everything was still there, her daughter, her bed, her clothes, everything but her. I didn't cry much, but I dreamt about her for months straight.

Two months later, on New Years Eve I was woken up by my mom screaming. I couldn't understand it at first, but as my brain made sense of the world around me, I realized that my mom was screaming ''my mom died, my mom died''. I had no idea what to do, I walk, not knowing exactly where my feet were taking me. I said nothing and I hugged my mom. I hugged her knowing our lives would never be the same. I hugged her trying to put her broken pieces together but I knew nothing could solve this. I didn't speak for the rest of the day. We returned home that day at 11PM and my grandma wasn't around anymore.

A few weeks later, my dog starts feeling sick. She hadn't been feeling well since her mom died, diagosis was depression. So we didn't think much of it. Vet sends us home with meds and a few days later she is not my baby anymore. She isn't there. She doesn't move, she doesn't ask for my food, she doesn't want to go outside. I knew what was coming. She didn't make it.

I went back to dreaming about them all. Every single night.

My parents thought I wasn't doing well, I wasn't speaking a lot, I wasn't eating well. But I felt fine. I started to look for alternatives, what kind of pet could I have that was low maintaince (mom and dad work and I was starting University) but that could be my friend. Mom was against it, dad said it was fine. A few months later I got a hamster, I named him Moshe but later found out he was a girl. I loved her immediately, she was so friendly and sweet. I worked very hard to make her home perfect for a hamster, I modelled with clay by myself her sand bath and her bathroom, though she didn't use it very well.

When Moshe was just 3 months old she got sick. Vet said her illness was unsual: it could be a one time thing or it could be genetic. Maybe bad breeder, maybe unlucky hamster. The second time she had the same issue I knew it wasn't gonna go away. I took care of her, I took her to the vet, we had an X-Ray on a tiny russian dwarf hamster. We gave her meds. But one day I woke up and found her laying outside, I knew she wasn't gonna make it, there was nothing we could do. My mom insisted on driving me to Uni and while I watched my classes my mom took her to the hospital. My tiny girl was the whole day there, admitted. We took her home for the night and I watched as she took her last breath.

My mom and I walked to a park near our house and while digging up a whole smaller than my hands I felt the world crash around me. I cried like I had never cried before. I buried my baby hamster, but after 6 months I was also buring my two dogs and my grandma. I was crying for all of them, I was crying for all the moments my dogs would miss, I was crying because my grandma didn't see me get accepted into University, I was crying because I had lost half of my family and only in that moment I realized they were truly gone. That day I found out what death was.

I saw people taking their night walks and I couldn't understand that they weren't grieving like I was. I couldn't understand they didn't lose their grandma and I couldn't understand why they weren't crying because I lost my grandma and my two best friends.

All I could see was this tiny hamster on my hand, knowing she would never play with me again and knowing my dogs would never greet me again. I don't quite remember anything that day. I don't know how I got home, I just remember hugging my mom and feeling that I don't understand this world and I don't know how I could go on from that moment.

Grieving as a level 2 autistic person is something I have yet to understand. It's been a year since all of this happened. I have a new dog, I have a new hamster who is doing well and healthy. My grandpa also died a few months ago. And I still dream about them all.

I still don't understand this world.

[ranty-ramblestein]

Eulogy for Benjamin

If you've read the eulogy for my first cat you mostly know about Benjamin already. He was the mellowed out orange cat that liked to be held like a human baby and didn't seem to totally know what's going on.

He was originally picked up by my dad and taken care of until my mom died and I moved in with him. He has this one story about how he used to play fetch with Benjamin when he was in the shower, throwing a plush mouse down the hall (since he was living home alone at the time). And of course me moving in stopped that. It's a cute vision, though.

It was just a couple years now he stopped grooming, so I took up grooming out his big mats... and not really in a painless way, either. At some point I just moved to start cutting them. Not parallel to the skin, perpendicular to it in the way the furt grows out. And soon he had mostly smooth fur again... until the next temp. change rolled around. I kept up grooming him some, but I did realize he didn't like his paws being touched during all that.

He had itchy ears that messed up his balance, so he was constantly scratching them. (I frequently helped him stand up if he was laying on my lap and started pulling out his claws to scratch.)

I did a lot of helping him, and it wasn't that long ago that he stopped going to the litterbox like normal and peeing on the stiff mats outside them (we still had two from when Cougar was alive, since he had a System™) so my dad got pee pads... and soon he had to put a lot more pee pads around the basement, where he was banished to because my Dad had gotten a Dog in the meantime. She hadn't like him, so that's what happened.

Of course, every time I came in from walking Frieda (the german shepard) today, I went over to pet him on the head, holding Fried tightly on the leash. She didn't try to pounce forward at all today, only sniffing him a bit. But maybe that was because I was holding her back so tightly? idk

Anyway, turns out Ben was peeing everywhere because of an unknown weakness, and he quickly lost weight, and all energy with it.

Here he was last night, unable to gather the energy to get back in his bed, which I had moved from the table to the left down to the floor just a few days ago. (Just like I stated in the last eulogy, it took me a while to realize he hadn't moved from the floor that day...)

Then today, at 2:20pm I carried him into my dad's truck and held him and comforted him as we headed to the vet...

I didn't realize until this moment, when he was on the exam table, just how angled his eyes were. It really gives him a mean look, but he was the sweetest cat in the whole wide world... 😭

Hopefully you can drink more water straight from the tap in Heaven, Ben.

[coffeeheartaddict2]

This life (9/13) No Escape

Book: Open Heart (book 1)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Casey Valentine

Warnings: ****trigger warning- this series deals with issues of abandonment and addiction- reader discretion advised****

Language, sexual references, mentions of characters deaths, punch thrown

Rating: 18+

Summary: A trip to Providence gives Ethan a different perspective and a plan in the background, a realization gives another dynamic change and the fallout. Louise’s past finally catches up with her and a news article she sees gives her the courage to reach out.

Disclaimer: Characters, dialogue (actual and paraphrased) belong to Pixelberry.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

It was the morning after he spectacularly quit from Edenbrook, the place where he had given a decade of his life only to have it all come crashing down. The face of a distraught Casey haunting him all night. He felt bad that she had become collateral damage in his fall from grace but he had let her in and when he let people in it always ends badly. He had a shower and packed a bag. He went via Naveen’s lakehouse, he saw him sitting on the deck reading a book. He was relieved about that. He then left. He knew he needed to get out of Boston but had no idea where. He was on autopilot so he was not surprised that he pulled up at the place where his pain started, his childhood home.

Alan was not home, Ethan surmised that he must be at work. He let himself in and was greeted by Jenner. He took him for a walk. His old neighbourhood was a far cry from the Boston Waterfront and even though it looked the same, everything had changed and it was where everything changed for him that fateful august day 25 years ago. Jenner enjoyed his walk and Ethan decided to make a start on dinner.

Alan turned into his street after a shift. He had to look twice as he approached his house. Ethan’s car was not what he was expecting to see. He was always happy to see his son and it had been awhile but he knew he was busy. He pulled up and entered the house. He was greeted by dinner being cooked.

“Don’t get me wrong Ethan, I am happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“Can’t I just come and visit my dad and my dog?” Ethan retorted. Alan was taken aback, he had not seen Ethan this upset and dejected since the falling out with Tobias.

“Of course you can Ethan, not what I meant, I am

Happy to see you but also surprised.” Said Alan. “You never come down mid week unless it is a holiday so what is wrong?”

Ethan took a breath to compose himself but to no avail. He started to cry.

“Naveen is dying, my good friend Delores died and Casey, who has been helping me with Naveen I don’t think I can help, especially with raising suspicions of anything untoward happening between us even though it has not.

Alan was shocked. He knew of his disdain for interns generally and he was surprised that there had been one that he had spoken somewhat fondly about but to see his son in his kitchen devastated and broken partly because of her was a shock. Alan had to ask if his feelings for Casey were more than professional.

“Of course they are dad, I do not know if it is love but certainly more than what I should be feeling.”

Alan does not know what to say. He had never had too many girlfriends and he certainly never suspected that Ethan thought it maybe love with any of them. It was moments like this that he missed Louise. He and Ethan were also closer and also offering a female perspective that he could not. All Alan could do was state you will figure something out. Alan was also saddened about Naveen. He knew that Ethan looked upto Naveen but also Naveen was a father figure that Alan wished he could be but was not. The resentment from Alan was brief. Alan knew that he would go on to do great things and was glad there was someone there to push him in the way he could not bring himself to do.

Ethan went to bed after dinner he was exhausted, the troubled and lack of sleep catching up with him. He is awoken by his phone. It is Harper. He answers it.

“Hello Ethan, I am glad you answered. I was calling to make sure you are ok.” Said Harper.

“I am not ok Harper. I need time to figure some stuff out. I am safe though, I am in Providence with dad.” Replied Ethan.

“Glad to know you are safe Ethan…”

“How is the investigation going against case…I mean Dr Valentine” asksEthan, hoping her association with him has not tarnished her. Harper sighs before continuing.

“I know you have maintained that you have not favoured Dr Valentine in anyway Ethan but that slip of the tongue was telling. I am glad you are well Ethan”. The call ends.

The next day he calls Harper. He feels like he is in a slightly better head space and wants to talk about his quitting and getting all of his paperwork finalised. He is informed that Casey has requested an Ethics hearing. Ethan does not hesitate in asking if he can testify for her.

“Absolutely not Ethan. The hospital has been awash with rumours of something going on for awhile now. I have seen some interactions that give some of the rumours creedance. You getting up there and testifying is only going to add fuel to the fire.”

“I can be impartial Harper, you know it, I know it.”

“The answer is no Ethan. End of discussion.”

Ethan hangs up in frustration, the original reason forgotten. Despite Harper telling him he can not testify, he feels he has to do something. He knows that Casey will be hard pushed for a fair hearing. He thinks to the email he received from Teresa when she made it to Paris, how happy she was to have made it there. All of which was made possible by Casey. She did not give up when others did. He also had the contact details for Luis. He sent the following email.

To Luis

My name is Ethan Ramsey. I was one of the many doctors who got to know your mother, Teresa. We were all saddened by her passing. As you know she embarked on a journey she had been wanting to take her whole life. Enclosed is a picture she sent us of her at the Sacre Couer . As you know she wanted more than anything to go there. I know she passed away but shouldn’t we be glad that she got to go on her own terms. As you know she did resent the treatment for Rhodes Disease. Being couped up in hospital all that time. The doctor who gave Teresa the drug did give her the chances and risks and Teresa s chose to go ahead with it. She was doing what it took to give your mum quality as well as maintaining quantity. Sadly there was no quantity but surely the quality of what she did have is worth it. If you have any further questions please feel free to contact me.

Regards

Ethan Ramsey.

Next he contacted Alma, he knew that she was appreciative for what Casey did for Delores and baby Ethan. Alma was thankfully willing and able. I hoped it would help her but I was still feeling like a poison chalice so I did not hold out too much hope. I head back to Boston again via the lake house. Naveen is still alive.

I have been back a day and a half. I am again wallowing. My mind turns to Casey, hoping that she will get a fair hearing, how I wish I could do more to help her. I receive a message from Casey wanting to talk. I ask her to come here, I do not like texting. About 30mins later she arrives at my door. I make comments about joining a cult, even though all I want to do is rip her dress off and take her where she stands. I offer her a scotch. She takes it. The question I dread comes.

“Will you testify for me at the Ethics hearing.”

I tell her I can’t. That I am too damn biased. In that moment I know Harper is right no matter how hard I tried to deny it. She tells me she came to learn from the best, to learn from me and I tell her this is me. She reminds me that I taught her to never give up and that is what she is doing. I tell her that I no longer work there and in all reality she will not be for much longer. A realization dawns on me and I can see Casey coming to the same realization. I do not know who moved first but when out lips hungrily meet again, all I wish I did at Miami come flooding back. I carry her to my room. Our lips only separating to get her dress off. She asks to show me the view from the windows. I oblige but Casey in her underwear is at that moment a better view. I stand behind her, kissing her neck. I then start to caress her breast. It is as beautiful as I remember it. A rush of carnal hunger washes over me. I turn her around, fall down to my knees and worship her the way she should be. Reality is no comparison to what my imagination had conjured. Watching Casey succumb to her climax was exhilarating. Casey gets me out of the rest of my clothing whilst we make our way to my bed. She says she does not want to forget this night and I said neither will I. I kiss her, pouring all my emotion into it as I slowly enter her. She feels even better than what I imagined. I start off slow, wanting to savour and enjoy Casey. This is more than just sex for me. I quicken my pace and and she starts to clench. I moan as a kiss my way down to her breasts. Casey’s moans get loader, bordering on screaming. She moans my name and tries to get out how close I know she is. I assure her that I have her. She falls, her climax triggering mine. In my wildest dreams I could not have imagined a more perfect time together. Over the course of the evening we go another two rounds. I fall into an exhausted but satisfied sleep.

I am awoken the next afternoon by Casey. Telling me she has figured it out. In my hangover induced confusion I ask her what. She tells me it is Naveen. She runs through her methodology and I agree with her conclusions. She tells me that need to do phage therapy and have what is making Naveen unwell. I get up but the room spins. Casey goes to make her hangover cure. It is disgusting but it does the job. She kisses me, telling me it is for luck. I tell her I am going to need more luck before I kiss her again. The only thing stopping me from going further is the fact Naveen needs saving. We get the therapy made. On the way to Naveen’s lake house I can not help but be proud of her. She had not given up when I had. We arrive at Naveen’s. He is still alive and I administer the phage therapy. The scrawny intern is there. The only thing stopping me from ripping him to shreds is that he helped Casey with Naveen. He says he is leaving to go to Kenmore. I said I would give him a satisfactory reference. Casey leaves with him. She wants to stay but she has a trial to prepare for. She asks me if I will attend and I will be there if she wants me too. I state that I will be.

Trial day arrives and the suit Casey chose is very distracting. I stay up the back. Alma is there ready to testify. My biggest card is Luis Martinez. I have not heard back from him. Surprisingly so far Casey is holding her own. She has picked patients well. She also has Dr Yannick, Dr Calais and Dr Myles come in and speak in support of Casey. Now the country club is making sense. Then Luis comes. Walks up to Casey and hugs are and announces that he is dropping the lawsuit. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then the door opens. It is Naveen. The panel are of course shocked. Naveen then goes on to explain what was happening and how Casey gave up her time preparing for the trial in solving his case. He calls for a vote. It ends up being unanimous in Casey’s favour. In that moment I never felt more wrong about anything. Naveen was saved, my work in the background I think helped and Casey still had a career. I slowly make my way down to congratulate her. She then punched Declan Nash. I shouldn’t but I do feel proud of her especially if some of that punch was for Mrs Martinez. I let her go with her friends. I make my way to Naveen and he is regaling Harper about how I was treating him. He requested there be no action taken. I am relieved to hear this. I chat to Alma and I am glad to hear that baby Ethan is going well. Finally I get to see Harper. I know there is stuff from my quitting that needs finalization but instead of that I am offered my job back. There is no mention of if the competition is still running. I go through all the paperwork. I finally make my way to Donahue’s. I am met by Casey who proposes that we head to her place before we return to our roles. I am saddened but agree with the reasoning. We have a night filled with passion and tenderness and it is then that I know I can not go back to a pre-Miami footing with her. It is then I decide to put an expression of interest to go down to Brazil. I end up staying and we are busted by two of her friends. We are eventually back at work for announcements. Harper is stepping down as chief and instills Naveen. Then the kicker, Casey is awarded the Junior fellowship on the team. On one level I am proud but the rest of me is in a panic. All I know is that if I continue a romantic relationship her achievements would be tarnished by the rumour mill. I say that we sort this out but I have no idea how. The day goes on and the week. I note that Casey is only talking to me on work related matters which I am thankful for as I have no answers. I then get the email I am hoping for. I am wanted on the Amazon team. I make a meeting with Naveen. He questions my intent and I could not hide the ulterior motive. He asks me to tell Casey but I can’t. The hospital is not safe and I do not want to do so at Derry’s.

That left her coming to mine and I know that if I tell her at mine it would lead to her convincing not too and given how I think I feel I know she could be successful. So I decided to be a coward. The morning I fly out I am torn. I realize that I am no better than the woman that abandoned me all those years ago. Whilst waiting to board at Logan I text that I am

sorry but did not say what for. What they had started to build meant a lot to him but he could not have that ruin her. As much as it was going to hurt I needed to rid myself of the feelings he had in order to be the mentor I needed to be.

I hit the ground running work wise but the evening after dinner is my downfall. My mind shifting between the nights we were intimate and the rest haunted by the hurt that I know I have caused. After a week I know the plan is futile. I pen letters that I know will never be sent. In a way I am dreading going back. I doubt that Casey would want to give me the time of day when I return but it is the medicine I have to take. I take solace in that I am returning to her in some way. The knowing that I am acting just like the one person I never wanted to be like haunting me. Various media outlets are with us too, sharing the work that the team is doing. I begrudgingly do my part but I am there to work.

Two months fly by. It is time to face the music of my cowardice. I hear her friends before I see them then I see Casey. I make my way over, calling her rookie. She tells me she is not one anymore as she is now officially a second year. I tell her it was a force of habit whilst I am internally chastising myself for calling her something so familiar. She stays back after last call which surprises me. She tells me why I did not contact her. I tell her we were in the depths of the Amazon. I then tell her we needed to reset and that is why I went. I do badly wanted to kiss her but I could not. How I don’t return her kiss surprises me. I tell her it is not a matter of want, because I do but I can’t. I can tell she is angry at me but I know in that moment that I will be struggling to keep those feelings buried.

Whilst in the Amazon Louise sees a news article in a waiting room of a community clinic in Southy. She reads it and takes a double take at a photo she sees. It may have been nearly 26 ago but she knew that was Ethan. She knew he would go on to do great things in life but in her wildest dreams did not think he would be a leading doctor helping those less fortunate. Louise’s addictions were starting to take a serious toll on her health. She was only 59 but most days she felt so much older. She was seeking treatment for an infection which she was able to get but she knew she could not keep this up forever. Rehab was not an option due to the cost. She did not know how much time she had left on this earth but she knew she needed to apologise to Ethan for the harm she caused him. She decided though to reach out to Alan. It took her a week to get the courage to make the call. She calls the number that she is surprised she remembered.

“Hello, you have reached Alan Ramsey” said Alan as he answered.

“Hello Alan. It is Louise”

Alan is shocked and did not know what to say.

Louise then said.

“I want to contact Ethan, can you help me?”

Alan was shocked. He had hoped this day would come but as time went on the hope got smaller.

“I need to think on this Louise, it is a shock. Can I call you another time?”

Louise gives Alan her number and hangs up.

Alan is shocked, he always suspected that if Louise ever called it would be to speak with Ethan but did he have the right to give his details out. He thought the best case would be to get more information and pass onto Ethan and let him decide but he was troubled too, nearly 26 years had passed and he could not help but be suspicious of any intent.

Louise is surprised that Alan took her call but was relieved that he wanted to have a think about getting her in contact with Ethan. While she waited she took another hit hoping it will dull the pain of the thoughts in her head.

Authors note : well this seemed to get long but I had alot yo cover and some that I have done in various fics as well so I was straddling thr line of repeating myself but meaningful to this story.

Coming chapters we will see more of Alan and Louise so fair warning there and as stated before when we get to post attack we will be following my timeline.

Tagging: @jerzwriter @jamespotterthefirst @potionsprefect @liaromancewriter @tessa-liam @cariantha @genevievemd @binny1985 @schnitzelbutterfingers @ofmischiefandmedicine @crazy-loca-blog @a-crepusculo @bex-la-get @lucy-268

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

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[hiddlesdarlinggabrielsangel]

This is pretty raw, and a lot longer than I expected but I think I needed to let it out. If you’re currently grieving a pet, this might be too much to read.

My dog passed away this past Saturday morning.

I’ve been in shock ever since and absolutely devastated. My appetite is gone and I’m nauseous and I’m realizing that even though my mom had a similar bond to Ivy, her way of grieving is very different, and I just feel alone.

While Ivy lived a wonderful life of 10 years, longer than many dogs get, she seemed to be doing fine until literally midday on that Friday and we had no idea it was something that would ultimately take her life. We’re struggling with all the “what-ifs” and “if only” thoughts but even though we don’t know for sure, we suspect the cancer we had removed a year ago had come back and even though we get her checked out routinely, we just didn’t catch it in time. The emergency vets said that it was as though her body was attacking itself. It’s just hard because we have her father from the breeder who literally turned 13 the day after she died, the day we buried her. We also still keep in touch with the breeder and she’s told us that HIS father is still alive. So, it was just so unexpected. And Zac, her dad, doesn’t even seem to be registering the fact that she’s gone. We showed her to him when we brought her home, but he barely noticed and just laid down next to her for a second before getting up and wandering off. He doesn’t have the best eyesight and maybe what they did to her body made her smell different, but I thought there would have been some recognition. But he just sort of moved on like nothing happened. Maybe he just understands better than we humans do that death is a part of life, even for his own daughter, but when she was alive he did look after her in his way. I just hope he doesn’t wake up one day looking around for her but we did all we could do.

I didn’t expect to get into the actual event but to be honest, it helped to type it out. The thing is, while I’m absolutely devastated right now, it’s not like I was on top of the world before she passed. Three years before we got her as a puppy in 2014, I was diagnosed with endometriosis. The year I graduated college, 2014, I got a job as a nanny for an emotionally abusive family (which I thankfully left after 3 months but was still a bit traumatized). I had a second surgery for endometriosis in 2015 and was prescribed depo provera which made my depression and anxiety way worse than it already was. I got a job as a photographer taking photos for church directories which was insane (12-17 hour days, no breaks worked in, at least 2-4 hour drives, many kind people but enough rude people to make it miserable), I developed panic attacks and took a medical leave of absence (ultimately left), was judged by so-called friends, went through a time where I couldn’t work because I didn’t know enough about what would trigger these panic attacks, isolated myself from my friend group (hardly any of whom were reaching out anymore anyway), and realized in early 2017 that most of those “friends” who did reach out weren’t really my friends, and between April 2016 - Sept 2017, my “job” (because I didn’t have a real, paying one) was to work on myself in individual and group therapy. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I’m very grateful for both, but when your job becomes analyzing what’s wrong with you, or why you do what you do so you can stop/change/adjust constantly, it gets to be a bit much. Then I got a retail job in Sept 2017 where I dealt with a narcissist coworker. I also started getting migraines at that job in 2018. Sometime in 2018, my brother met his now wife who has never liked us because we don’t fit in to her “fantasy” (not confirmed, but my theory). When we first met, she told my brother I was “too nice” and “not candid enough”. We have done and continue to do everything we can to be welcoming and she’s nothing but disrespectful to all of us. She even sent something to members of her own family recently that they have been very hurt by. Anyway, in July of 2019, I briefly got a job canvassing neighborhoods for a construction company until I had an 8-hour long panic attack. Needless to say, I did not stay there. Feeling ashamed and hopeless, I made a plan to take my own life. My dad interrupted me as I was writing the suicide note, and obviously I’m still here. I got another job the following week, one that I’m still at, but it didn’t come without its hiccups. A man who yelled at me and who I still have to set boundaries with nearly five years later. Another man who acted inappropriately but ultimately he was set straight. As you can imagine, my brother’s girlfriend/fiancée/wife made our lives difficult and did everything she could (and succeeded a long time ago) to separate him from his family who he seemed to be so close to before (I used to think of him as my best friend). In the summer of 2020, I started having hypnopompic hallucinations where I’d wake up physically but I would still see things as though I was in a dream state which freaked me out. In December of 2020, I made a total of 6 batches of cookies, rolled out, embossed, all the works for literally hundreds of cookies, and that triggered an underlying back issue from carrying too much weight in my backpack slung over only one shoulder in college. This resulted in me going to the chiropractor, getting massages, and as the back issue was finally working itself out, it felt as though it dispersed all that pain and more to the rest of my body. I won’t go into it because that would be a post somehow longer than this, but about a year later after having had a third surgery for endometriosis in 2021, seeing a gastroenterologist, worrying if I was having seizures, and finally seeing a neurologist, I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia in 2022. I found out my uncle had been diagnosed with cancer earlier that year too, a sarcoma. He passed away in May.

Around a month later, my mom, a non-smoker, was diagnosed with a rare type of non-small cell lung cancer. It’s called ROS1 and it’s very aggressive. Not only that, but it does not go into remission; my mom will have this cancer for the rest of her life. Already, she’s gone through two treatments, and the when we suspected the trial she was on wasn’t working anymore because of a mass they found in her right lung, she had a biopsy done in December right before New Years, and in the middle of it, she had heart failure. Thankfully, they revived her and she’s ok. At first they thought it was a heart attack but her arteries were clear. They said it was a case of broken heart syndrome. Her heart has recovered fully since then, but she was taken off the trial, and after briefly trying another targeted treatment, she’s now on chemotherapy.

After experiencing a traumatic event with my brother and sister-in-law back in December of 2023, my family hosted a baby shower for them at our house earlier this month. I’ve been conflicted about how I feel about the coming of this child. I have been overwhelmed about my mom and the side effects she’s been having from the chemo along with the other drug that they’re giving her for the first 4 rounds. My dad caught pneumonia a few days before Ivy passed. I was already overwhelmed.

I was almost always already overwhelmed. But through all of the above, except those first 3 years of endo, I had Ivy. I could go to her. I could play with her. I could pet her. I could cuddle her. Or I could just watch tv or be on my phone but she always had a way of knowing when I’m sad or upset and needed her there. And I think she just genuinely wanted to be with me whether it was on the couch, on the floor, or even upstairs.

That’s part of why this is so hard. It’s ALL of these current things, plus Ivy. Ivy made it bearable. I know I’m not always going to feel this way, but I think I need to get it out somewhere. While I know that I will move on and live my life through the good and the bad… part of me doesn’t want to. I don’t want to face life without Ivy. I don’t want to have people come into my life and not be able to introduce them to my “buddy”. I know how that sounds. And again, I know I won’t always feel that way, but the thing is, I don’t have any friends I can talk to. I have people who care about me and that I care about, but I’m not close enough to share this and one person I used to think might be that type of friend kind of has proven that she’s not interested in a real friendship. She just checks on me by text every few months and says she’s praying for me. While that’s sweet, whenever I try to engage, she ignores it and then literally just writes another text checking up on me a few months later. She responds to updates, but not when I try to reciprocate.

So, with my friends falling away, with my brother turning away from me, Ivy really was my best friend. Possibly my only real friend.