#like this is the sort of thing you do either right before you end the show or write the character off

[scientificwitchry]

Explaining & Exploring Caleb's Behavior in Homecoming Wings

This contains spoilers for what happened in Caleb's Homecoming Wings main story update, especially Night Unending so I'd suggest finishing reading it before reading this because this is just me talking about Homecoming Wings.

Before I begin, if you dislike Caleb that is completely your right. If Caleb upsets you that is completely fine. Additionally, this also isn't a justification because let's be real even though as far as yandere's go I don't personally find him that intense he was acting pretty crazy in his main story. Also wanna add that nobody owes Caleb like understanding of his character at all if it's that bad for you. This isn't being written with the intention to change minds or that you have to suddenly like Caleb cause of it. I'm just really obsessed with this man.

I mainly just wanna add more nuance to the topic of Caleb a bit? Because while he is and was certainly unhinged I don't like the idea of people labeling his behavior as him doing crazy stuff just for crazy sake or purely because he's a red flag. Because to reiterate he is def a red flag and more than a bit unhinged but he isn't ONLY that and I don't believe his behavior is based solely on being that but a myriad of things.

For instance, the most problematic and controversial moment in the main story is when Caleb gives MC medicine which results in her soon after noting drowsiness. Many people are of the opinion that Caleb purposely drugged MC, some think it was an act especially ill-intentioned. I personally believe it was not as malicious as it came off considering MC was indeed sick and the cold medicine she took helped. But it's also implied that Caleb gave her the medicine knowing that it would make her drowsy. Anyway, I'm not going to debate whether it's right or not.

Rather, I am more interested in the reasoning. That reasoning is simply that Skyhaven is highly dangerous. Throughout the main story, I can think of at least two incidents in which MC finds herself in danger. The first is with Viper who in the story attacks MC. While MC obviously manages to at least fend off Viper she still struggles and it ends up being Caleb who saves her.

This of course makes sense to me because MC is first and foremost a hunter. She's trained to fight wanderers, not what sounds to be experiments meant to serve as weapons considering Viper is either quite obviously a cyborg or made to some extent of machine.

The second is when MC manages to chip and track Caleb and follows him to the Farspace Fleets clean-up. Which MC finds out is actually them getting rid of ridhuman-turned-wanderers (from what is implied to be unethical experiments). She gets attacked by a bunch of wanderers, injuring her knee but is yet again saved by Caleb.

What I mean to say isn't that MC is somehow defenseless but rather she is completely out of her depths with Skyhaven. It's not a lawless land like the N109 zone rather it is a strict place to the point it exudes almost a sort of oppressive feeling. Crazy, messed up stuffis clearly going on there that MC has only begun to unravel, and will perhaps never truly grasp. Of course, this is not her fault as Caleb is stubbornly insistent on being secretive and won't tell her. Though the "won't" is closer to a can't (due to circumstances even we the players have yet to be fully aware of other than what the game seems to imply).

Where I'm going with this is not only is Skyhaven much more dangerous than N109 zone but on top of that realistically speaking compared to Sylus, Caleb is pretty much powerless. His role is that of a pawn and he has much power as is desired of his role. Sure he can order and boss people around as Colonel but what good is any of that when he lacks the true power needed to protect MC?

It's already clear that the professor that Caleb is implied to have made a deal with in order to protect MC has his sights set on her. Even more by how Kevi who was "saved" by the Farspace Fleet ended up becoming a part of this professor's "family" suspiciously including Viper and a seemingly present Caleb it seems that the Farspace Fleet and this professor is connected. I don't think it would be a stretch to presume based off of this that it's all connected to the Ever MC is looking into.

Considering all of this, what can Caleb, a pawn meant to be eventually cast aside for a better piece do to protect MC when his power is so limited? The answer is, of course, to hide her. Which is why on several occasions in the story he restricts her movement (by locking her up). He obstructs her goals on several occasions not because he's a red flag but rather because he knows every goal she intends to complete will put her under the radar of the exact people who will hurt her, and who he wants her hidden from.

Which is why he even gives her that cold medicine likely knowing it'll make her drowsy because if MC was actually successful in her attempts in rescuing Kevi from the fleet's grasp (and by extension the professor's and possibly Ever's) then she would be put be in deep waters. Everything Caleb does is so seemingly in order to protect MC even if it means being in misery and pain, even if it means upsetting MC, even if it means the only person in this world he cares about ends up despising him. To Caleb, none of that matters if she's safe.

However, Caleb is completely powerless, defenseless, and weak under the authoritarian (and so far mysterious) system of Skyhaven so his only option is to play the villain to keep her safe as otherwise means to let her get hurt.

Because of all this, I even personally believe that Caleb is more overprotective than he is possessive. It's just that it wraps back around to being possessive. It's a lot more than just him loving her, than him wanting her to be his but that he believes that despite his powerlessness that he is the only one who can protect MC. That the only way MC can be safe is with him. This is purely because Caleb has been playing the role of MC's protector, her shining knight in armor for so long that it's deeply entrenched in his identity. He cannot imagine himself living life as anything but someone who protects MC. In fact, I'm of the opinion he believes his only purpose is to protect MC and keep her safe. The only thing that keeps Caleb alive and somewhat sane is this role he clings to desperately. Not because that is what he is but rather it and MC is all he has left. Without it, he is nothing. So perhaps, in this regard despite how much Caleb tries to convince MC, it is he who needs her the most rather than vice versa.

MC can survive without being his princess just fine. Rather, MC even doesn't have the slightest desire to play the princess role Caleb seems to want her to. Her consistently communicating to Caleb the sentiment of "I don't need you" is exactly that. It's not just her refusal to play the role of a princess, not just her denial of Caleb's role as a protector but a rejection of him entirely because even as MC's gege he has only existed as a protector to her. She might as well have just told Caleb "I hate you" which is why I believe after hearing it he almost always seems to snap. He doesn't see it as an assertion of MC's independence (which I personally do) but as MC wholly, entirely rejecting him. Since what even is his purpose if he can't protect MC? What's his purpose if she doesn't need him like he's always needed her? What's the point of having lived and suffered all the way up until now if MC doesn't need his protection?

I feel like a lot of his behavior in Homecoming Wings, especially in Night Unending can be explained simply by this. Caleb's only role, his only purpose is to keep MC safe. Even in the nearing end of Captive Bird where his snapping is less about his role as protector and more about his deep feelings towards MC and his role as her family and MCs albeit understandable insistence on imposing it, he still clings to that role of protector. He still obsessively talks about protecting her, about keeping her safe because again, that is the only purpose and role Caleb has known his entire life so that role is as connected to his feelings as anything else. Ironically enough, despite him resenting the role of being MCs gege he still retains an identity of it.

[fairyboygenius]

everywhere, everything

simon “ghost” riley x original female character

maisie speaks: FINALLY. i am so sorry the ao3 author curse hit like right after i posted this and i haven’t recovered until now

cw: blood and bruises, mentions of childhood abuse, mention of animal death

@dwarvenagenda merry late christmas

Luckily for Simon, he ended up getting to see Allie sooner than he expected. Unluckily, he was the one who got injured.

It was a freak accident- the normally composed lieutenant slipping on the treadmill, his nose getting slammed into the track. Nobody needed to know that he had been lost in thought, missing a couple steps here and there. Daydreaming about a certain redhead with thick thighs he needed wrapped around his hips and mischievous brown eyes.

So, it really worked out.

Soap and Gaz flanked him on either side as he awkwardly limped to the medbay. Not only had he hit his head pretty hard and caused a nosebleed, Simon had somehow managed to badly sprain his ankle. It was embarrassing, really. He’d come back from the dead, survived gunshot wounds and bombings, but the fuckin’ treadmill took him out.

Allie was the first person they saw at the medbay, tending to a young private’s wounds. She was brisk and businesslike, avoiding eye contact even as the man tried to flirt. Simon held back a laugh as she looked at him blankly, voice professional and even.

The guy looked about 19. He leaned closer to Allie, and she just leaned back, face slowly slipping into a disgusted look. He was sort of blandly attractive, basic in his flirting. And she just wasn’t having any of it. A satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of Simon’s lips- and he immediately winced. It hurt to do anything with his face.

Allie looked up and immediately extracted herself from the guy. She visibly flinched looking at Simon’s face, the blood only stopped by a couple of tissues. The guy- who couldn’t have been more injured that a paper cut- tried to speak, but she pushed her way over to them, brow quirking.

“I leave you guys alone for one hour and this happens,” she joked. “What happened?”

Simon wouldn’t look up from the floor. “Fell on the treadmill.”

Allie let out a laugh, horror immediately filling her face as she clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered, shaking her head as Soap and Gaz burst into laughter. “It just came out- okay, you know what? I’m gonna bandage you up, and then I’m gonna go kill myself. Give me a second, y’all.” She disappeared behind a wall, clearly upset with herself. If Simon had been able to, he’d have gotten up and gone to comfort her, but then his ankle throbbed and he thought better of it. Lola perked up, going to sit by the small exam table. She wasn’t quite tall enough to reach where Simon sat, but he reached out anyway, scratching the top of her head.

He had had a dog when he was a kid. Some mangy, flea-ridden mutt his mum picked up on the side of the road. Tommy had named the pup Dodger or some shit. Friendly little fucker, slept in Simon’s bed most nights. That is, before Dodger got shot in the head for “barking too loud” right in front of Simon and Tommy. He was nine. Tommy six.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen, ya hear?” his father had yelled. Simon remembered squeezing his eyes shut as hard as he could to hide the tears. He was scared of what would happen if he cried. Last time Tommy had cried, he had been punched so hard that his nose was actually broken. Simon still feels guilt deep in his stomach for lying to the ER nurse. He said Tommy fell.

Now, when they see dogs, it almost seems like they can smell the loss on him. He had read somewhere that dogs were good judges of character, but given the things he’d done, the people he’s hurt- he was skeptical.

It was a comforting feeling, though. That he was still worthy of receiving a pure, selfless kind of love, and giving it in return. His thoughts turned unbidden to Allie, as they often had in the past 24 hours. That’s a bit more selfish of a love- affection? desire? Infatuation? Just a pure want? He didn’t quite know what to call it. All he knew was she was potentially responsible for his broken nose- not that she’d know.

“Maybe this’ll be the story that gets told at your wedding reception,” Gaz had snarked, holding him up as they moved towards medbay. “Christ, you’re heavy. Maybe lay off on the beans.”

He had never particularly liked the idea of marriage. But with her…

You have never had a full conversation with her, Riley. Calm the fuck down.

“Okay.” He was startled out of his reverie by Allie coming back out. She was holding two ice packs, a bottle of painkillers, a small pillow, tissues, a nose splint, and a brace on her small silver tray. She looked at him, apologetic. “I really am sorry for laughing. How bad’s the pain? Out of 10, and be honest.”

Simon tried to force an indifferent shrug. He had his balaclava on still, he realized. “About an 8.” The words tumble out before he can stop himself. The truth, for once. Allie’s face twisted in worry. Shit.

“The sergeants left?” She looked around, giving him a wry smile. “Some friends.”

“Colleagues, at best.”

“Fair enough. So, full name? Just for the records.”

They went through his information pretty fast, and then she moved closer. If he could smell anything besides blood at the moment, lavender would be filling his nostrils, and he would try to grasp and soak it into his cells. Mitosis or whatever. She was wearing dark green scrubs- these ones were a bit tight, stretching across her generous chest and wide hips. Her stomach hung low, round and soft. He wanted to bite it.

“Okay, Ghost. I’m gonna need you to take the balaclava off so I can assess the damage. You can put it back on once I’m done; it’s probably soaked in blood anyway.” Allie gave him a coaxing look, like she was trying to get Lola to do a trick.

🎀

Okay, it’s not… bad.

Allie allowed herself to take in his unmasked face at that moment. Cleft lip, scars of various width and length, brown eyes and ridiculously long eyelashes. A nose that’s clearly been broken a couple of times. It’s an almost pretty shade of dark purple, swollen and matching the circles under his eyes. The blood isn’t gushing- at least, not anymore- but a steady trickle still drips down his face.

“I’m gonna touch your nose. Just to feel and see if it’s broken. Okay?” He let out an affirmative grunt. “Okay.” She reached out, feeling around for a break. He watched her with glassy, half-lidded eyes, the slightest sound of discomfort hissing through his clenched teeth.

Miraculously, Ghost’s nose was just the tiniest bit broken. Allie went ahead and secured the splint. And maybe her fingers lingered for the slightest bit too long on his face. Who was she to say?

The silence was comfortable, not strained in the way she often felt it was. Bedside manner was never something Allie had been good at. Making placid conversation about family vacations during procedures actually sounded like a nightmare, and it was a not insignificant factor in her choosing the military over nursing school. If soldiers wanted to talk at all- besides grumbling about having to be there, both men and women- it was incredibly rare. Of course, there were the chatters. And the flirts, like Private Johnson, who she’d politely turned down but still finished the job. That’s what she was there to do after all.

She finished securing the splint, handing him a small bottle of water and shaking out two pills from a bottle. “I got you the extra-strength Tylenol. We’ve been told to save the morphine drip for GSWs and the like, so this’ll have to do for now.” She watched to make sure he took the pills, totally not thinking about the way his lips wrapped around the bottle, how his hand was so big it dwarfed the tiny pills…

Snap out of it.

“Can you feel your ankle?”

He looked up at her, annoyance oozing from his pores, making even her aware of his emotions on the matter. “‘S not broken.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not. Just need to make sure. Can you wiggle your toes?”

He tried- trying and failing to hide a wince the entire time- and Allie bit her lip, looking at him sympathetically. “We’re gonna need to send you in for an X-ray.”

Ghost immediately shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

Allie took a deep, slow breath, trying not to get too mad at him. Not used to needing help. She could recognize the signs of a fellow abused kid- the cagey demeanor, resistance to being touched, the genuine surprise when someone is gentle with them. “I’m concerned you have a break, and if you do, just ignoring it and not figuring out what’s wrong could permanently damage the bones in your foot, which would likely get you a medical discharge. You’d be in pain for the rest of your life, walking with a limp and unable to do anything but pace around a mall- because we both know you wouldn’t go to PT unless you had a gun to your head. Or, you could go in for the X-ray and wear a cast for six weeks.”

“What about the mission?”

Of course he was concerned about that. “I’ve heard it’s being postponed anyway. Apparently we got bad intel, and they’re not actually in Chicago- but they’re talking about sending in the sergeants by themselves.” She shook her head, attempting to commiserate as he fumed. “I don’t know what Price is thinking sending them in without us.”

“Can they do that?” Ghost looked pissed- or maybe that was just the splint. His voice was high and nasally, his breathing still irregularly. He rubbed his forehead.

Allie wasn’t sure. She just knew what she knew- what Laswell had mentioned to her in a text during her first shift at the medbay. Soap and Gaz seemed like alright people, but you don’t survive in a military base without being able to identify weak spots. Soap is impulsive. Gaz is bloodthirsty- more so after the reveal yesterday.

She watched as Ghost scratched the top of Lola’s head. There was a clumsiness to it- someone who hasn’t touched or been touched gently for a long, long time. Maybe that’s why her hands could linger. Lola let out a content hum, pushing her head against Ghost’s hand. He kept scratching. Clearly, they had formed a bond.

“Your hands seem okay, at least.” The words just slipped out. He sat up like he’d been caught, and Lola whined. Allie winced apologetically. “Sorry, you don’t have to stop. Just making sure nothing else is injured.” She wiped her palms on her scrub pants. “I’m gonna call another medic in to do the X-ray, so you just sit back and let the pain meds kick in. Take off your shoe and sock, though, so we can get a good picture and check for any bruising. This’ll take, like, ten minutes max.”

The X-ray goes by without incident, with the reveal that Ghost (Simon? Just gonna call him Ghost) had not broken anything, it was just a particularly bad sprain and he had bruised at least five bones in his foot. Allie and the other medic-Delaney, Allie thought her name was- helped him put a boot on, taught him how to use crutches, and gave him strict instructions to rest. They sent the necessary information to Price before sending Ghost on his way. There was a lot of unnecessary touching- but from Ghost this time. A hand on her arm, a death grip on her shoulder when he first started the crutches. A clap on the back before he left. Her skin still burned where he had touched it.

When he left, he slipped on a surgical mask over his nose splint (the balaclava is going into the wash) and gave Allie a last, appraising look, before grunting in appreciation (of her?) and leaving. He was already fast on his crutches.

“So…” Delaney looked at Ghost one last time, studying his back, before turning to Allie. “What the fuck was that?”

“Was what?”

“He’s definitely into you.”

Allie felt her face flush. “There’s no way. It’s been, what, 30 hours?” And I don’t want to get my hopes up, she finished silently.

[911lsbts]

Where did the idea for this final emergency come from? And it’s teased at the top of the episode the asteroid won’t be the only part of the emergency in the finale, yes?

The high concept of this episode being the asteroid and the secondary crisis it causes for our characters — our cast and our crew, we’d all found ourselves in this sort of end-of-the-world feeling for us when our show was canceled, in all of our minds, too soon. I think that was infused in where we wanted to end this season, and put all of our characters and our audience through this feeling that the world was just ending too abruptly. And that’s the theme of these last two episodes, in all of the storylines, and also in terms of our actual emergency.

We were looking for an emergency that started with that theme. So then the two ways that the world could end too soon would be, 1) the asteroid, which we thought was the perfect metaphor of what we felt like, and then, 2) the thing that the asteroid causes in the finale, which I won’t fully spoil, if you couldn’t deduce it from the opening of this episode.

After this, do you think it’s going to be pretty hard for “9-1-1” to top this series finale when it comes time for that show to end on ABC one day?

It’s funny, because Tim and I work hand in hand. We both are executive producers on both shows, and so we’re always thinking we have to make each episode, whether it’s “Lone Star” or “9-1-1,” you look at each one and say, “What’s the best thing that we can do for this moment of each particular show?” And we never pull punches. One thing we often have to say is, “Wait, you can’t do that. We just did that on Episode 5″ of this show. You can’t do that kind of emergency or that viral video, because we already did it.” But we always want the best for both shows, the biggest for both shows, and I’m sure that we’ll figure something out for “9-1-1.”

In this episode, we find out TK and Carlos are not being approved to adopt Jonah strictly because of their high-risk jobs. Does that mean that one of them will quit their chosen careers so they can proceed with adopting him?

I once read that, “There is no meaning without sacrifice.” So to make the most meaningful decision of one of their lives, somebody is going to have to make a decision. This decision gets made before the apocalyptic event, in either case, as you’ll see in the finale. But I think you’re onto something.

At the end of the episode, it’s heavily implied Tommy has died due to the effects of her cancer, and she even sees her late husband Charles welcoming her into the afterlife before she appears to pass away. Can you confirm whether she’s dead going into the finale?

I’ve said when we did this whole journey with Tommy’s cancer and with Gina, the actor, as well is we really were going to have to go all the way. And a big part of it was also an opportunity in this episode for Tommy to have it come full circle. And to be to be frank, I took a lot of heat for ending the Trevor and Tommy relationship, but part of why we did it is because I knew this was where we wanted to take her character full circle with this love of her life. And not to get too personal, but when my mom, right before she passed, I was in her hospital room, and she was telling me about how her mom and dad had come to visit her that morning. And it was so vivid for her. She wasn’t saying it as if, “Oh, they’re ghosts.” She was just saying it as if it happened. And then she passed not long after, and it gave her such comfort. And I think that stuck with me.

And it was actually Tim Minear who said we should find a way to get Charles back in the show before it’s too late. And that was a deep anchor of inspiration that we really wanted to get to. And it seemed like this was the way that we could really show what that love of her life meant to her, and also this cancer battle was going to require the ultimate, I don’t want to say price — but that she’d have to go to the ends of herself. So that’s what I’ll say about it.

You get into two big character storylines in this penultimate episode: Mateo being deported and Paul mentoring a nonbinary teen who is endangering themselves in stunts to gain acceptance and popularity. Why did you decide to approach these two topics with so little time left in the show?

Like I was saying before, part of the theme of these last two episodes is that your world could end at any moment. And for Mateo, he’s just at the gardening shop with his girlfriend, and he thinks he’s having an existential moment when she reveals that she doesn’t want to get married, but then actually, no, the real existential threat is because of his tenuous DACA status, even an injustice could cost him everything. And what you’ll see in the finale, I think, is it’s going to lead Mateo to the ultimate place of growth in this series by doing it. So that was part of it, to tell that Mateo story at the end.

And then as far as the Paul story, funny enough, when there were about four episodes left of our show, Brian Smith, who plays Paul, came to me and said, “Look, in the pilot of this show, the way that Owen is able to convince Paul to stay in Austin, is he says, ‘Somewhere out there in Austin is a kid just like you looking who doesn’t feel accepted for who they are, and maybe one day they’ll see a firefighter like you and believe that they matter.'” And he said, “Wouldn’t it be cool if before the show wraps, we made good on that little promise?” And I thought that was a brilliant idea. So Brian is the reason why we did that story, because he brought that up from the pilot and that led to the Jax story.

Owen is just about to tell the 126 about his plans to leave and move back to New York to head up the city’s fire departments when the asteroid alert comes in. Should they all make it through this, is Owen going to proceed with his decision to leave Austin?

Well, first he has to live. I’ll say that. I think what we wanted to show in this episode is that you can make up whatever thing you want to make up in your own mind. “I’ve thought about it. I reflected on it. I’m going to do this,” and then real life has something to say about that. And how do you deal with it when your plans get scuttled, because fortune turns its back on you. So you’ll see him experience that. You know, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. That’s what happens for Owen.

[ladynyoko]

Jonah's Enucleation

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

This all starts Saturday.

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

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

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

I didn't get a chance.

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

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

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

We didn't wait long for the vet either.

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

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

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

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

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

Except that isn't how it happens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[baffledandbewildered]

“You can kill me,” Betty says, before she can talk herself out of it. Poll and Evi’s eyes light up, and she can’t bring herself to regret saying anything. They’re her… allies. They’ve been kind to her. She doesn’t lose anything by dying today - “You’ve got to give the heart back, and let me e-chest my stuff first,” she says hurriedly.

They both nod immediately, and Betty shakes her head fondly and goes to place her e-chest… 

“You’ve gotta let me leave the corner, you know,” she adds.

Evi mumbles something that sounds like a half-hearted complaint, but steps back a little, letting Betty sort through her gear. She glances up where Mari is circling above them before taking off her armour.

“Right - okay, yeah, you can kill me,” she says again, a little nervous now - she doesn’t care about dying to people she cares about, but armourless at spawn is a terrifying thing.

Pollock grins, takes out his sword, and in less than a second she’s gone, the world lighting up in a brief flare of pain that calms the moment she respawns in her bed under the ocean.

For a moment, she lays there, giggling, hand clamped over her mouth from residual paranoia. 

She was so scared of dying for so long. It’s good to be reminded that death doesn’t actually have to mean anything.

She grabs her gear and goes back to spawn, takes the heart Poll gives back to her with a laugh and presses it against her wrist, hissing a little as it settles into place alongside the others. For a moment, she’d worried she wouldn’t get it back - but they’re allies, and yes trust doesn’t come easy but their alliance is official and she doesn’t think either of the team would want to hurt her, despite the nagging voice in the back of her mind that reminds her that no one on this server is safe to be around.

She’s not sure she could call what she feels for Hamhams trust. It’s care, certainly - she’s not sure she wants to know how many hearts she’s given Evi4 over the last few weeks, and she’s tried her best to keep the both of them safe, to stand up for them - a flickering memory of sharing information and a plan with Evi crosses her mind, because messing with Hamhams is cruel and she doesn’t like it - but trust? Probably not. She knows it’s a risk to let someone kill her. She let them anyway. 

Maybe that is a kind of trust. She wouldn’t let Chips kill her all those weeks ago, even with the promise of returning the heart. She doesn’t like dying.

She doesn’t know. She doesn’t want to think about it too much. If she starts thinking about alliances and allegiances and friends and enemies she’ll start to panic and she doesn’t want to go back to the frame of mind she was in a few weeks ago. She’s fine. She’s fine.

The next day finds her and Evi and Seri at spawn, and Seri dies to lava while Betty is still reeling from a couple of messages from Cogmented and suddenly Evi and Seri are arguing about a stolen elytra and she doesn’t know what to do. She tries to de-escalate, make Evi give it back because she knows that Nara would be well in his rights to kill for this and she doesn’t want to see another Evi4 death, not today, but she’s still shaken and confused and she’s never been the best of talking people out of things at the best of times.

And somehow things have spiralled even further, with Seri being chased halfway across the ocean and bitterly it feels almost like being a bodyguard again as she runs after the two of them, not sure who she wants to save.

Cog calls her a bad ally, her relationship with Hamhams a bad alliance. She can’t exactly blame him, or any of the others who echo that sentiment.

In the end, Seri dies, Evi4 dies, and she and Evi are left alone at spawn. 

“Do you want to blow something up?” Betty offers.

“Yes!”

They settle on the hillside under Nara’s bar, next to the waterfall they built the other day when they were first experimenting with TNT minecarts and windcharges. Betty stains her hands with gunpowder as she crafts more, and the second explosion they make goes a little wrong and sends them both stumbling, blows a hole in something they didn’t mean to.

“No one has to know…” Evi says slowly. Their crown is a little crooked, knocked loose by the explosion, and Betty fixes it with a giggle and they go back to explosions. They call it date night, just for fun.

Eventually, they have to stop before they actually destroy something important, so they start building instead - there’s about 10 shulkers on the ground and so many different blocks but they somehow make it work, Evi sets herself on fire a couple of times and when she accidentally steps on a shrieker Betty yelps like she’d been shocked but it’s funny and it’s fun and - it helps, after the last few hours they’ve had. 

Evi lets her rant about Cog, too, as they work - Betty feels bad but Evi claims not to mind, and the funny insults and comments help, a lot, and by the time they’re done with the build she can joke about being mischaracterised without feeling like she’s going to pass out. She thinks it hurt Evi too, being called a bad ally, because occasionally she mentions something about their “mutually beneficial alliance” and it sounds bitter. It’s petty, maybe, but she’s glad.

Eventually, they judge the build done, and sit together on the blackstone stairs watching the sunset. Usually, Betty turns her face away in those final minutes of day, but this time watching the golden glow fade in the distance doesn’t cause something to twist in her chest. 

As they worked, earlier, Evi4 told her a secret, an important one, and the trust in that made Betty’s heart warm. She wants to give something back.

“I have a secret of my own,” she says, carefully keeping her eyes fixed on the horizon. “I’ll tell you it if you want. Not today, not here. But - I want you to know, I think.”

The next day, they meet at a stronghold - it’s not the most hidden location to disclose the most important secret of Betty’s life, not with the nether roof portal right next to them, but Evi4 wants an end-portal table and she’s not going to argue with that, even if the thought of being overheard makes her feel faint.

Betty’s been shaky all day, unable to concentrate on anything but the looming conversation - it won’t be the first time she’s said this story out loud, but it’s different today.

“Mmmm,” Evi4 says, looking around at the room. “You can talk while I decorate.”

So. Betty does. She paces as she speaks, shaking hands shoved in the pockets of her cardigan, and she doesn’t look at Evi unless Evi makes some strange comment but that helps, a lot. Poll shows up 20 minutes late to the conversation, signs a hello, and she has to restart the story for him, but by that point the panic is… lessened. Still there, simmering in her chest, but it’s manageable. And HamHams are easy to talk to - apart from when Evi decides it’s a funny bit to say “Hi Cogmented” every time she mentions his name - it makes her flinch each time, heart rate spiking briefly, but it also makes her laugh. They make her laugh a lot, honestly, Poll at one point waving for her attention then signing something that she sends her on a tangent for a good few minutes.

She needs that, really. It’s - scary, talking about this, the guilt a stabbing pain in her chest as she speaks.

Hamhams don’t try to tell her it’s not her fault. Instead, when Betty explains why, Evi, who’s been staring silently for the last few minutes, yells “BAD DECISION!”

And… he’s right. It was a bad decision. And despite the fear choking her, her shaking hands, it feels good not to be immediately dismissed. To have her mistakes recognised, and for it not to matter.

It was a bad decision. And they don’t care. 

She lets Evi kill her, when they leave the meeting room. Being Evi4, they decide to punch her to death, but the entire time they’re both laughing and Betty can’t really find it in herself to care, even as she respawns in a deepslate room with faded bruises on her skin. 

Once again, they meet at spawn, and she gets the heart back. This time it’s through Evi grabbing her hand and pressing the heart against her palm, then not letting go and using the hold to drag Betty towards the hole to bedrock and make her jump in after him.

Hamhams have the oddest ability to make the scariest situations… not. It was the same when they first spoke about allying. The conversation itself wasn’t difficult, really, but watching Poll hide his hands from her so he can sign something privately to Evi was nerve-wracking after the day she’d had so far - but within minutes she was laughing again at something he said. It’s nice.

Betty has a date with Ace the day after… the conversation. Date night 2, to use the official name, the not-at-all-flimsy cover story. Betty’s been on a lot of dates this week, and it makes her giggle when she thinks of it. 

Evi4 shows up midway through, invisible, to hand Betty three stacks of gold blocks with a hurried promise that they’re not stolen, then disappears again, but not without showing them his new armour - stolen from Cogmented, because Evi had killed it only a few hours ago - that was an awesome thing to wake up to. 

A little while later Evi finds them again, and there’s a strange look in their eyes when they look between Betty and Ace. It doesn’t feel threatening, just… thinking. Betty wants to know what they’re thinking - it’s weird, standing between the two people she’s - really, they should have a talk about labels at some point.

She finds out what Evi4 was thinking the next day. They’re just - talking, gossiping if she’s honest, and Evi is complaining about Void - “He told me to kill Ace cause Ace had an elytra after I - failed the first mace kill,” she says.

Betty freezes. Ace. “What the fuck?” she says. “What the fuck?”

“I thought about it… very briefly! But you and Ace are lovely sooo.”

“Thank you,” Betty says quietly, automatically, mind whirring. Her hands itch to grab her e-chest, look through the shulker full of books and flowers and all the other things Ace gave her - she knows the words off by heart, so she stops herself, but god it still hurts. “I - what.”

“Mhmm.”

“Can I - tell - someone? I - fuck, I don’t -”

“Only if they don’t tell…”

“Ah, alright, okay - I won’t, I just - I’m - that’s - I don’t - is this to try and break us up? Like - what the fuck -”

“What is wrongggg with himmmmm oh my god,” Evi groans.

Betty laughs shakily. She doesn’t speak for a little while more, then - “I just - can I talk to him about this?”

“Do whatever you want forever BettyIsBaffled,” Evi4 says, and it’s so reminiscent of another person who Betty misses so much that she flinches.

“Okay. Okay. I will.”

They part ways, and Betty gives in to the urge to sort through her e-chest, taking out a single allium and holding it gently in her hands. She doesn’t particularly want to look at the books - the most recent one still stings, slightly, and even though she knows things are better now she doesn’t want to think about the Gameshow and all that happened after.

The Gameshow. She puts the flower down before her shaking hands can crush it, then pulls another book out of her e-chest, this one unsigned. She doesn’t need to read this one, either, really, but she flicks through the pages anyway.

Void’s hurt Evi too - they deserve a win. Betty needs to stop feeling so conflicted.

So now she grabs her communicator and types out a message for Evi4.

I’ve thought of a really funny idea. Do you wanna try get Void with the mace when I speak to him later?

Of course, it isn’t that simple. He agrees to the location Betty and Evi had decided on earlier in the day, but plants rose bushes around him as they talk - the mace now won’t work, there’s so many panicked messages in Betty’s communicator and then an offer: Yo I’ve got TNT minecarts?

Betty doesn’t even think before responding. Do it.

Void claims he didn’t mean anything by the Ace comment. She believes them, and it does make guilt twist a little in her chest but that’s a familiar feeling by now and she swallows it down, tries to keep them talking because Evi needs a little more time for this to work -

In the end, she dies mid-sentence, the phantom sound of the explosion still ringing in her ears as she respawns. She can’t breathe for a long long moment, all the air in her lungs gone, then she gasps and the world comes back to her. It - worked? It worked. She laughs, giddy. 

Oh she is fucked, but - it worked! They did it.

She messages Evi immediately: Are you safe?

Evi says he is, so Betty digs herself down to bedrock and decides she can wait here for a little bit. There’s no point being stupid. Consequences will come sooner or later, and she can happily wait for that. 

Except… she doesn’t exactly get the chance. Evi4 dies, and their spawn point is public so moments later she’s receiving messages about Pathogen at their spawn point - Betty doesn’t even know why the entire bloody megateam is involved in this. It seems overkill but hey that’s the Pathogen way at this point…

Fuck she doesn’t know what to do especially when Evi dies, and again and Betty’s frantically messaging them trying to work out a way to get them out of spawn because Betty’s fine dying again if it means Evi is okay but Evi either doesn’t answer or answers with nonsense or “Don’t ever come back to spawn” at one point and Betty’s awful at ignoring order’s but she can’t just stay here. 

If she’s honest, Betty’s pretty close to a panic attack now, pacing back and forth in the tiny stone room she’s carved out with her now-close-to-breaking pickaxe, vision blurred with tears she won’t allow to fall - she doesn’t know if they’ll let Evi go if she goes back and if she dies she won’t be able to help at all but she doesn’t know what to do - 

In the end, she doesn’t have to choose. Nara comes and picks her up from her cave beneath the ocean, escorts her back to spawn, and Evi’s there, alive, and she runs over to them immediately. Evi4 is - he looks a little battered, bloody, his dress is torn but he’s alive and that’s what matters.

“I’m sorry - for getting you killed,” Betty says immediately. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t even worry, bro,” Evi says, then dramatically, a little clumsily, kisses her on the cheek, giggling.

Betty laughs weakly. It’s - well. That’s Evi4, really. 

She’s suddenly so so aware of the soot stains on her clothes, the throbbing half-healed burns across the left side of her body. There’s deepslate dust under her nails, and it looks almost like the gunpowder from when she built the TNT minecarts for their first date - she tears her mind away from that thought before the shaking can start again. She’s so tired.

“Can we leave?” she begs.

They end up going to the drowned farm. Betty sits on the side, tapping her fingers anxiously against the wood as they wait for drowneds to spawn - Evi needs hearts, after all. 

Evi4, who has died twice, who had offered to take the blame for this fully - it’s purposeful kindness. It’s not something Betty’s used to - she usually grows to care through circumstance, shared experiences, but Evi is trying. From the secrets shared with no expectation of anything in return, to the care for the things Betty built, to unspoken apologies, to self-sacrifice -

She thinks she trusts them. It’s taken her a while to realise.

The sun’s setting now, and the gold light reflects off Evi’s crown as they wander randomly around the platform, fishing rod in hand - the next thing Betty knows there’s a fishing hook tangled in her hair and she’s being tugged forwards, laughing, complaining, until Evi puts the fishing rod down with a giggle and pushes her towards the drowneds. Betty doesn’t even think about the sunset as she kills the monsters and rifles through the chests for shells, holding them out with a smile that is brightly echoed. 

Yeah. She trusts them.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[OLD ART ALERT] A COLLECTION OF SCENES FROM THE GILLIONS CATSCRATCH ARC THAT BROUGHT ME GREAT JOY. i love fishy chips especially when its just gillion being delirious and violent and hostile

[anna-scribbles]

h-how do you ever finish any of your work? genuine question because you seem to be productive despite your agreste syndrome and I need to learn your ways. but also how do you ever finish any of your work

unclear. last night i stayed up and finished a report worth 25% of my grade at about 5am, arrived on time for my 9am lecture, and spent about half of it zoned out while thinking about seventeen year old emilie agreste. and i was one of the most active participants in the class discussion

[thedrotter]

I have a gift for y'all today !!! 😊 Ever wanted to find a line in Re:Kinder in a single place for the sake of reference?? How about multiple chunks of lines. how about all the little variations that arise in the text with it's many endings, item descriptions, text that comes from interacting with the enviroment, and character info from the menu without having to boot up the game and go through it at long minutes!!???

well i sure did😊 Since I do a lot of fanart and think up my own silly theories and thoughts that need me to reference the game lines a lot, i have made a transcript for it for convenience's sake. A weirdly thorough transcript handwritten and proofread by me including all character lines available in-game. And I'm sharing it with you all today for anyone that wants it !!! :3 To use as a reference for creative fanworks or a quick search for a line in-game, whatever you wish to use it for!!

It uses the english translation of the game by vgperson. So naturally all credit for the game lines available in here is to her and Parun who made the game.

I did my best to organize it in a way easy to digest. Do note that I'm still human, and there's still the chance for mistake in it no matter how much I've proofread it, since I'm not even an english native speaker ^^. But I hope it serves you well nonetheless if you wish to use it.

That's my gift for today!!! Not the usual art, but still a project I'm proud of. Enjoy!!! 😊

[phantajam]

my hot take about descendants is that NONE of the core four were ready for a relationship until maybe like, the third movie (rant in tags)

[mars-ipan]

i do love my family very dearly but the internalized ableism the men in here struggle with is. so much

[burinazar]

It's a bit funny that to parts of my circles I'm 'the fandom one'/'the fanfic one'/'the shipping one' as the person they know most prominently into such things

because as much as i love writing my fics and shipping my ships my interest in both of those things is, I think, very narrow and specific compared to most people who are into them? due to my habits being like. very particular

[teaboot]

On of the less intuitive things about love, I've found, of any kind, is the importance of needing things.

I didn't realize it until recently, but I've always seen love as something requiring sacrifice, selflessness, patience, and generosity- to ask for nothing is to be the best person I can be, small and quiet and never in the way, always happy and helpful, self-sufficient and present when desired.

It's only as an adult, now, that I'm beginning to see the selfishness of wanting nothing.

I cut my friend's hair in my kitchen the other day. They wanted a trim and I had the skills, so I offered, and was genuinely excited when they stopped hesitating over "bothering me" and took me up on it. It was a peaceful afternoon, and we had tea and chatted for an hour or more.

My brother and I shared popcorn at the movies a while ago. When I came time to pay, I pulled my card out like a wild western sheriff and slapped it on the machine before he could fight me for it first. The satisfaction was delightful.

Someone called me crying on the phone the other day. Kept apologizing for disturbing me at work, talking about how they were bothering me on my lunch break. I was telling the truth when I told them that really, I was flattered and honored and relieved, knowing that if they were hurting I would know, that I didn't have to worry in silence. It felt good to hear them slowly come down, and to know that they knew it would be better soon, and to hear them laugh wetly on the other end. We're getting together for a visit next week.

It's hard to need things, if you've trained yourself not to. It's hard to want things, when you don't know how to want anymore. Trusting people is difficult, and so is relying on them, but I don't know where I'd be without the people who rely on me.

I've heard a lot of people say, "Nobody will love you unless you love yourself". I've had a lot of thoughts about it. It's not right, but it's not wrong, either, I think.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... I've always taken that to mean, "You will not be lovable until you develop a positive view of yourself as a person".

Now, I think it's sort of inside-out.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... because nobody can show their love to you in a way that you can accept until you treat yourself kindly, and learn what you need, and what you want, and how to ask for it, and then give that vulnerability away.

Love, for me, is someone I ask for a ride to the airport. Whether they end up doing this or not is irrelevant.

It's not needy, or selfish, or taking up energy. It's giving the gift of being wanted, and needed, and thought of. It's giving someone the security of being part of someone's life.

[football-in-tuxedos]

What's distressing, but also important to understand, about JK Rowling hitting the "Denying trans people were targeted in the Holocaust" point is that it's kind of the last stop before she just goes full alt-right weirdo.

Joanne is denying the Holocaust (if a group was targeted, denying they were targeted is Holocaust denial) and that's going to lead to pushback from historians and experts. But Joanne is too deep in to believe what anyone who disagrees with her says, so she's just going to dismiss what those historians and experts tell her. And once she's disbelieving them about that one thing, well it's just a tiny step to start disbelieving them about other things.

This isn't by accident either, transphobic circles are swarming with far right agitators, ready to use hatred of trans people as an in to recruit people into their causes. They have handbooks for this sort of thing and they are, unfortunately, good at it. I suspect Joanne will be spouting coded versions of Great Replacement stuff by the end of the summer.

This is not a plea to try and pull Joanne out. She's too deep in, and even if she wasn't, she's already demonstrated an inability to examine her own prejudices, an unwillingness to hear criticism and a weakness to flattery. She is perfect recruitment bait for people who know what they're doing, and my impression is she's surrounded herself with people like that.

No, this is to understand two things: First is to use her as an example, to understand how a well meaning liberal can chase their own prejudices down a very dark rabbit hole. We are none of us immune to propaganda and even if we can't change what's happened to her, we can at least use it to protect ourselves.

And second is to understand that one of the main reasons you can't pull Joanne out of the transphobic pipeline is cause she is the pipeline now. She is the transphobic banner bearer now, she is funneling money and attention to these groups, she is their most famous celebrity and she is helping recruit people. Being able to show people how far she's gone, how deep into the right wing rabbit hole she's going, is important to help other people who still think she just "Had some concerns" know where her path leads.

[seddair]

.

[tonycries]

Prettier When Messy!

Synopsis. They aren’t afraid to get messy while making a mess of you, in fact, they love it - in all sorts of ways.

Pairing. Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, bréeding, really messy, light pússy-smacking (Nanami’s), spítting, cúmplay like a LOT of it, squírting, oral (female + male receiving), fíngering, overstím, jealousy (Gojo’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 3.6k

A/N. Wrote this n’ then had to have a run in the rain for a spiritual deep-cleanse. 

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Big n’ scary? No problem!

Now, Toji wouldn’t consider himself to be a nice man. But to be honest, the way you’re looking up at him with such adorably teary eyes, lips wobbling so nervously at his rock-hard cock, has got his heart lurching ever-so-slightly. And as does his swollen dick. 

“What’s wrong, doll?” he caresses your cheek, like the shameless bastard he is. Heavy balls twitching at the way he catches your sloppy pussy clenching in- anticipation? Fear? Both? “Nervous?”

“I um-” And oh if Toji thought he was painfully hard before then he wasn’t ready for that delirious little nod you give him. 

Ah, it never gets old. He loved this effect on you - how cute it was that you were so cockdrunk already, letting out a few whines. A few complains about how he was too big. And he knew exactly what to do about it. 

“Spread those legs some more, pretty.” 

And you barely even get the time to react before Toji’s impatiently wrestling open your legs so shamefully for him. Taking in one long look at how perfect you were for him - quivering and leaking so sinfully onto the sheets below - before spitting once. Twice. Thrice. 

Missing on purpose to let a steady stream of saliva and slick trail filthily down your quivering thighs. So debauched and wet for him - and if Toji was any less of a man he’d just fuck your pretty pussy right then and there. 

But, no. Oh no, instead, with a low hiss, he rests his swollen dick on your stomach, letting you gape at him in awe. How he was so hot and heavy on you. 

“See?” Toji muses, voice so infuriatingly even for someone that was leaking thick, hot precum all over your stomach. “Nothing to be afraid of. In fact, m’just gonna be right-” He traces his finger down your tummy, resting right above an invisible line where his fat tip was. “Here.” Pressing down. Hard. 

You jerk at the pressure, jolting - God, you should’ve known that Toji would fuck so mean. Playing around with the pretense of “comforting you” to tease you. To watch the way you keen and gasp at his movements. 

“But-” your breath hitches as he smears his precum all over your skin. So fucking sloppy, having way too much fun than he actually should - all at your expense.

“No buts, jus’ told ya, m’girl.” Toji chuckles darkly, leaning down to whisper hotly against your ear. Cock twitching so ferally on top of you at the way your voice cracks so adorably at the end, tinged with desperation. “N’ now, I’ve had enough of being nice so are ya gonna take it am I gonna have to make ya?”

And nothing more is said - by either of you. 

Because with that, it seems the last bit of Toji’s patience - or his restraint - has snapped at the sight of you splayed out so deliciously, too much for him. You, his favorite meal - gaping at his thick cock, all needy and messy with his precum - how could a man possibly say no?

“Oh! Fuck fuck fuck- s’too-” you squeal deliriously as he slides his angry tip between your swollen folds. 

Stretching you to your limits. Mindlessly pushing in quick, purposeful little grinds to bully his massive cock inside your tight pussy. Each movement getting more and more erratic than the last. More desperate. Sloppier. 

So debauched and dirty.  

And Toji - oh he’s just in heaven - letting out a deep, guttural groan as he just barely bottoms out. Heavy balls smacking your ass, those tufts of hair at his base scratching your throbbing clit just right. Thumb stroking that sinful little line of precum he’d made - and where he could feel himself bulging inside you. 

“Hey, doll, ya think I can go even deeper?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - To clean

You don’t know what makes you flinch more - the way Nanami was buried dizzyingly nose-deep in your cunt, lapping so greedily at your sweet sweet juices, or the way he just stops.

“K-Kento?” you whisper breathlessly, mind reeling from both the way you were so close and the final, deep kiss your husband gives to your swollen clit. Grinning at the way your hips jerk mindlessly in protest as he pulls away. “Why did you-”

And whatever disappointed whine dies in your throat at the heavenly sight before you - and oh it was so hard to look at Nanami without wishing he was back in-between your thighs. Hair ever-so-slightly disheveled, glasses sliding down his nose, venturing dangerously towards where your slick was glossing so prettily over his lips, all the way up, up, up-

“‘Why’, my love?” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, and no sooner are the words out of Nanami’s mouth before he’s leaning in - capturing yours. So sloppy and desperate. 

You let out a muffled moan at the way you were tasting yourself and him and you. So sweet that you wondered which one of you tasted this addictive. 

“Now now,” and then he’s pulling away, angry cock twitching so painfully at your broken little whimper. “Don’t get too greedy.” As if you could be anything but. 

And maybe if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have said anything about the pure disrespect shining so uncharacteristically in Nanami’s eyes. About how utterly mean he was being as he slid his fat, weeping head up and down your swollen folds. All the way from the base, just grazing your throbbing clit. 

“I dunno if you deserve this, my love.” Nanami gives your quivering pussy a little smack! as if it was a little punishment, letting your slick smear all over his fingertips. “You’ve just been so messy- just look at my glasses.”

And oh, you can’t look away. 

Because your juices were blurring his glass, dripping so enticingly off of it that whatever rational little part of you thought it was on purpose. Absent-mindedly, you wondered how Nanami could see a damn thing. Seemingly moving on sheer instinct as he slides a long finger along the frame. Slowly. 

“I- want it s’bad, Ken- Give it to me.”

Several things happen at once, and before you know it, Nanami’s shoving his fingers inside your mouth. Muffling your fucked-out moan as he immediately presses into your heavenly pussy. Not even bothering to ease you into it this time before he’s thrusting into you. Rough. Again. And again and-

“They were expensive, y’know.” Nanami presses right in the back of your tongue, just loving how adorably you gag and moan around him. “The least you can do is clean me off.”

And you don’t have to be asked twice - or at all, really. 

Because you’re sucking and swirling your tongue around Nanami’s warm fingers like they’re your favorite candy. Looking him right in the eyes with such a deceivingly innocently, matching the pace of his hips in and out in and out in and- “Such a cute lil’ slut f’me, my love. When you’re all done with that, take care of m’cock too, y’got it very, very messy.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Hairband.

When Geto ties his hair back, you know you’re not going to be let off easy. Why would you?

It just means he’ll have no mercy - have you folded in half and stuffed full of his thick cock, begging and crying to just let you cum. It felt pathetic, really, but at this point you were too far gone - babbling delirious little pleas while he rocked his dick into your plushy cunt. Relentlessly.

“Please please please- hngh- Sugu- m’so close.” you whine, hips bucking wildly. Tears streaming down your face, your snug pussy clenching so tight that some part of Geto almost wanted to tease you for it. 

“Awww, poor baby. You wanna cum?” he coos, voice so mockingly innocent. Barely audible over the blood roaring in your ears. “Y’know what I always hah- say…”

And despite his words, Geto sounds as fucked-out as you - because, hell, he’s been torturing himself just as much as he was your poor cunt. Cock rock-hard and so so angry inside your heavenly pussy, teasing his orgasm while he waited for you to explode with yours. 

Sobbing out, “I- hngh- I know!” Breath hitching at the way his heavy balls sting your ass with each thrust. Sure to leave marks for tomorrow - his fingers on your hips, yours running down his sculpted back. “Wan- me to- hah- squirt, f’you. I wan’ to.”

God, it was so hard to not paint your pretty pussy white already. 

Instead, Geto’s capturing your swollen lips with his - partially because they were irresistible, partially because he really needed to shut up those cute lil’ whines right now.

“Not just squirt.” he moans against your lips. Fingers frenzied - almost painful - on your throbbing clit now. “Wan’ you to fuckin’ cover me in it- fuck-”

And he seems so content, smug about the way you flinch each time he yells out little profanities into your mouth. At the way you’re so cockdrunk, barely even realizing the soft ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he hit your poor, abused g-spot. Finger frenzied on your clit - not even bothering to draw those steady little circles anymore, just lewd little patterns to get you off. 

He wanted this. Needed this so bad - needed to have you cover him with your sweet sweet juices until it’s glistening all over him. Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 

And, well, cover him you do.

Because no matter how much you might babble out those adorable little protests, Geto knew your pretty pussy well. Almost too well. 

Well enough to know that you’ll have your orgasm crashing through you. So hard and borderline violent that it’s all you can do to claw at his back in an effort to get him to fucking slow down. That familiar little song and dance. 

Because Geto didn’t stop until he was all glistening with your essence - absolutely depraved in the act. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him. Only milking his painfully hard cock on your trembling pussy harder. 

Everywhere. See, the hairband always comes in handy. And Geto wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here right now, letting your juices smear all over his aching dick, to his abs - darting all the way to his lower face.

It was so messy. So debauched - it sends Geto over the edge as well. Pumping thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your pussy white. Loving how fucking sloppy your pretty lil’ cunt was as it sucked up everything so greedily. Again and again-

“Hey, gorgeous.” Geto mutters, tongue darting out to get a taste of the slick coating his lower lip. Honestly, he doubted you could even hear him with how fucked-out you were. “Can y’ do it on m’tongue, too?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - You look good in white

“Fuck fuck fuck, open wider f’me, baby-” Choso groans, angling his head just right to catch the way your throat bulges so obscenely around his swollen cock. Watching the way it goes in and out in and out in and-

You were so gorgeous like this - you always were - but here on your knees, nose pressed firmly against the small tufts of black hair at his toned pelvis, he thinks you’ve never looked better. 

Now all he has to do is hold off until the best bit.

But it was so difficult when you’re shoving yourself down inch by fucking inch. Milking Choso’s aching cock for all he’s worth. So greedy with the way you were gagging and choking so prettily around his thick cock. Swirling your tongue under his sensitive slit just the way you knew he liked. 

And oh it has Choso feeling like he could just pass out. He could just feel the way you were smirking - knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Sh-shit.” he gasps, fingers trembling on your hair as he fucks your mouth like his own personal fucktoy. “Ya hngh- like this, huh?” Thighs quivering, hips stuttering deeper into your hot mouth. “Like me using that s-smart mouth like ha- this?”

The only response he gets are your nails dragging down his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. A warning - a request. One that Choso knew was a sign that you needed to taste him - to have him. 

One that had him speeding up his sloppy thrusts, over and over- Abs aching with the movement, veins throbbing at a maddening little thump! thump! thump! against the roof of your mouth. 

“Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your slutty mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 

Faster. Deeper. Sanity held together only by a delicate tether - one that snaps when you look up at him with those beautiful eyes, moaning around Choso’s cock like you were begging him to ruin you. 

Oh and then Choso’s cumming and cumming so hard he thinks he might’ve just died and gone to heaven right there. And you - you were such an angel, tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth. 

Mixing with his cum in such a sinful combination as he spills desperately into you, shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 

So fucking filthy. 

Only getting filthier when that feral, debauched part of Choso really can’t help but pull out ever-so-slightly. He chuckles at the way your eyes widen in surprise when he smacks his weeping dick all over your face.

Ah, this was his favorite part - always was. And he can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted as he smears his seed all over your face. Twitching angrily in his fist at the way it drips down all over your chin, forming a lewd little pool on the floor. So, so pretty for him. 

“Now now,” Choso lets out a guttural grunt, balls squeezing so painfully at the ruined state of you. “Wan’ see if I can hah- mess up this cunt jus’ the same, baby.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Wipe those tears!

Your only problem was that Sukuna was as mean as he was absolutely filthy. 

“Aww, pretty baby.” Those words would be reassuring - but you knew better. Because his tone was just dripping with something so dangerous - something that had you feeling more and more like Sukuna’s little toy. “I thought you could give me another one.”

“B-but-” you gasp. “S’too much, Kuna, don’t think-”

“You will. Or-” he cuts you off, fighting that feral, cruel little urge to shove his entire dick in your snug cunt. No care or concern for those big, frustrated tears welling up in your eyes. “I’ll just make you. Your choice.”

God, you could almost sob - maybe from the way Sukuna was chuckling at your expense. Maybe from the way he was pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts to fit inside your tight pussy. Trying to fuck out- which number orgasm was this again? Ah, you don’t even know - and Sukuna doesn’t care. 

He’s had you creaming around his fingers- his tongue- his thigh. And now, all he wants is for you to cum on his dick. You could almost feel his weeping tip graze your cervix already and- was he even halfway in, yet?

“Nope.” Sukuna hums, leaning down to those tears rolling down your cheek. Shit, did you say that out loud? “Maybe m’not even a quarter inside your pretty cunt. Why don’t y’take a look for yourself, brat?”

And it seemed like Sukuna was well and fully intent on driving you insane. Because no sooner have you craned your neck to take a glance, you’re met with the most sinful sight you’ve ever seen - your swollen folds stretched so obscenely around his weeping tip, soaked with precum and sucking him up so eagerly. Sukuna’s fingers toying deftly with your sensitive clit, rolling it between his fingers.

Which really made sense why he loved this little routine - have you pathetically pretending you couldn’t cum for him again, acting like your slutty lil’ pussy wasn’t trying to fucking milk him dry. He loves it. Loves the way your mind is telling you to run away but your needy cunt wants more more more-

“Enough of the games now.” he tuts, wrapping a hand around your neck, pulling down down down onto his thick cock. 

And you can only keen in response, tears streaming down your face faster because his cock too big. The stretch too sinful. Prominent veins grazing your plushy walls in a maddening  bump! bump! bump! you were losing your mind to. 

Sukuna wants you to cum- he needs you to. More badly than he wants to cum. Thumb just erratic on your clit, so sloppy and needy.

And then you’re cumming and cumming so hard that sensitive little tears roll down your cheeks. Not even realizing it at first, barely registering the stars behind your eyes, white-hot pleasure shooting up your cunt. Over and over-

Sukuna quickly darts out his tongue to lick them away. Long, languid stripes up your face. So fucking sloppy with it on purpose. But you can’t even bring yourself to be disgusted. Mind reeling with how good you felt and those sharp fingernails resting right over your racing pulse. 

Dangerous. A warning. 

As if Sukuna would kill you if you didn’t take his cock - when he was the one that actually felt like dying right now. 

Because you were too cute like this, cockdrunk and milking him greedily inch by fucking inch. So fucking tight. Enough to give the king of curses heart palpitations, honestly. 

A full-on heart attack when he finally bottoms out. Ramming the rest of his length in one quick, harsh thrust. 

He smacks his lips, savoring the salty taste of your tears. Some tiny part of his cold heart so fucking proud. He knew his lil’ slut could give him another one - you always do.  “Dry up those tears, brat. Because I haven’t cum yet.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “To think of me~”

“T-Toru, I really need to go-”

“No no no- fuck m’so close, sweetheart.” Gojo gasps into your mouth. Hips so frenzied and sloppy against yours, squeezing his throbbing cock in you like a man possessed. The idea of stopping not even close in his pussydrunk mind. 

It’s been this way for so long now, and you’d only been halfway out the door before Gojo was pulling you back into the bedroom. That lil’ sundress was way too pretty that he just had to hike it up your hips and pull aside your drenched panties. Making sure to stuff your pretty pussy full. 

And, well, the fact that you were going to meet one of your old guy friends might have had something to do with it, too. 

Hey, even the strongest gets jealous sometimes. And Gojo is so sloppy when he is. Hips stuttering and bucking wildly into yours. All filthy desperation where he was usually so suave in bed.

He just can’t help but make a mess of your dripping cunt, reeling back to watch the way your sloppy hole struggles to take all of him. Glistening and trying to milk the soul out of him in the dim lighting. In and out in and out in and-

You’re letting out such a pathetic whine, “But- m’so-”

“Close?”

“Late.”

Of course, Gojo rolls his eyes with the audacity of someone that wasn’t the reason you’ll have to make up some excuse about traffic being awful this time around. Instead, he’s rolling his thumb over your sore clit , breath hot against your ear, “Guess m’gonna have to hurry up then, hm?”

It’s all that’s said before he’s fucking into you deliriously. Faster. Deeper. Bouncing you on the plush mattress like some slut. 

Scoffing, “Y’should just stay home.” Hips snapping ever the more mercilessly with each word. “Stay with me insead. I’m sure she-” He gives your pussy a quick, sharp smack! laughing at the way you’re moaning breathlessly. “-definitely agrees.” 

“Shit- feels s’good hah- shit shit-”

So fucking sloppy. Like he was trying to fuck the idea of staying home into you - each thrust so harsh. Running on pure jealousy and the feeling of your heavenly cunt wrapped around him. Unforgiving. 

“Toru- m’gonna cum- I’m so-” And it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. Nothing but white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, and it’s so good that you’re pulling Gojo closer by his toned hips. Being late be damned because you’re cumming so hard you’re sure you see the pearly gates of heaven itself.

Or maybe that was just Gojo - tears pricking his eyes as he cums with such a strangled gasp of what sounds like your name. Thick, white ropes that gush out of your snug pussy, smearing all over his sensitive balls. 

It feels so heavenly that Gojo really can’t help but check if it looks that way too. 

Thumbing apart your folds to watch the way his seed spills out of you, so fucking filthy as it pools on the fresh sheets. So bloated and messy with him. Pulling out ever-so-slightly like he was torn between milking out every last drop of cum on your cute pussy and making a mess of your panties.

The latter wins, apparently. Because he’s painting your panties white, shooting out thick spurts of cum that smear all over your legs. So drenched and flimsy that it was almost difficult for Gojo to snap them playfully back in place.

“Something to remember me by when you go. Have fun~”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[wriokitty]

Sukuna who was never close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.

He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.

No one except Sukuna.

They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.

And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.

And then he meets you.

Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.

“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.

“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.

“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”

You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”

“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.

“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.

Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.

It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.

“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”

“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”

Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.

“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.