#the only unconditional support she had in that house was our cat

[cassynite]

Uh. Just a really personal essay thing below the cut. I just needed to write and share this because it's been bouncing around in my head all day and I feel like if i don't i'm going to just explode or something!!

cw discussions of hoarding, death, illness, elder neglect

I am such an unsentimental person when it comes to keepsakes or mementos. I want to say part of it was as a reaction to my grandmother, who was a hoarder who put far too much emotional importance on physical objects. She would go on and on about some half-broken doll her grandmother had given to her, only for it to get lost in a room of trash. She took thousands of pictures, all the time, on disposable cameras that would never get taken to be developed, just lie to collect dust in a box somewhere.

Once, when we were attempting to clean out the garage full of nothing but 40-gallon bags stuffed with clothes that were moldy and hadn't seen the light of day in years, my grandmother had a breakdown, screaming and crying at us not to touch those things, that they were important.

I was sixteen and an utter asshole at the time. I'd told her, "Grandma they're just things. They're just objects."

And she told me: "Well things are all I have."

I had a very visceral, negative reaction to that. Mostly, it was hurt--did she not have me, the rest of our family? Did she not consider us more important than trash accumulated over years? I ultimately know it was more complicated than that, that my grandmother came from a very abusive and insecure household, and that hoarding was likely a coping mechanism. That she struggled a lot, but that she ultimately loved us all very, very much.

I mean, she didn't have to raise me. My parents were right there. When they told her that four kids was too much work and asked her to take over with my younger sister and I, she could have told them to deal with it, and she didn't. She told me she loved me constantly, that love was unconditional and she would always love me, and no matter our fights or my behavior she was always a support and I believed her when she told me those things.

But her hoarding was a cause of extreme stress my entire adolescence--her tendencies went to cats when I was about fourteen and that ended up being such a nightmare scenario, the kind you'd see in those awful news stories about hoarding houses, that I don't even want to touch on it more than to just say it happened, and it was bad for years. I couldn't see the value in anything she had, and therefore never cared enough to keep things of my own. I never cared about family heirlooms, didn't keep things after they broke and couldn't be fixed no matter where I got it from, and I didn't take pictures or care much about pictures that were taken. Souvenirs were pointless to me, and I struggle to remember any gift I've been given in my life.

In early 2016, long-term health issues including unmanaged diabetes, multiple strokes, and bouts of pneumonia finally left my grandmother incapable of taking care of herself, and when a fall caused some minor brain bleed they placed her in a care facility. It was her worst nightmare--she'd told us repeatedly growing up that if something happened like that to just let her die, that she did not want to waste away in a nursing home.

I only visited rarely. I was working on getting my bachelor's degree, I had just moved in with my partner, and the speech and memory issues caused by my grandmother's injury were profoundly upsetting to me; I often left visits crying. Both of my grandparents had been in hospitals and rehab centers multiple times before, and my grandmother constantly took me on visits to see church members who also were recovering from injuries, so I was very familiar with these places. The smell, the sights of people who might never recover from what put them there, and the dead-eyed stares of staff made me hate those care homes.

So I avoided visiting her, put it off. I would visit when she got better, I promised myself. And then in December of 2016, my grandmother caught pneumonia and died. I was there for part of the vigil when they took her off of life support, but had such a breakdown seeing her deterioration that I left early and did not stay with her when she passed. She'd had, I would learn later, multiple falls in the nursing facility she was placed at; that care home would close down a few years later due to investigations of neglect.

I cannot express how horrifying the entire ordeal was, or the shame I feel when thinking about this. If I had spent more time with my family, maybe I could have helped care for Grandma instead of her ending up in a care home. I could have helped manage her diet so she didn't have the drops in blood sugar that caused that first fall, the one that led to the initial brain damage. I could have looked more into the group homes when choosing which one to take her to, found the very present information regarding the one she was placed at and and pushed for one that wouldn't let her fall constantly, causing permanent brain damage and health deterioration. At the very, very least, I could have visited more, so that her last memories on this goddamned earth involved knowing that her favorite granddaughter gave a shit.

It's been years. My grandfather ended up also falling ill in 2018, multiple infections and bouts with sickness that landed him in a much better care home, where I visited more often. He was deeply self-reliant and chafed against the dependency but made friends and seemed to be alright there whenever I spoke to him. He was also vocally Very Done with living in general--he was nearly ninety--and told me multiple times that he liked seeing me but didn't need it, and to not worry about him. I think he knew I was trying to make up for something. Maybe he judged me for putting in the effort with him when I didn't with Grandma, who needed it so much more than he did.

When he passed in August of 2019, I had just started a new job and hadn't visited in a month. Somehow, his death was even worse, like I'd lost him and Grandma together all over again. The worst part for me, surprisingly, was months later, when my phone corrupted and erased every single picture I had. I didn't take very many, but I'd started to do more toward the end of my grandfather's death especially, and there were several pictures of both him and grandma that were lost forever. I was devastated.

I think perhaps my lack of sentimentality just came from the fact that I hadn't needed to be sentimental before. I could visit my grandparents at any time. My mother was dead but I'd barely known her; my father might as well have been dead for how much he cared to contact or visit us. I didn't have any strong connections that I wanted to be reminded of that i couldn't just renew at any point in time, and I took it for granted. The knowledge that I started to forget what shade of dark brown my grandmother's eyes were, or the old-time phrases my grandfather used to say all the time that I'd ingrained into my vernacular as a child, really hurt. It's like a thousand deaths, every time I realize that I have something less of them with me now.

This past Christmas, my eldest sister gifted all of us with flash drives. She had, in her spare time, scoured the internet and old photo albums for pictures of our family and had digitized everything she could find. She was apologetic about not buying something for us, but had thought we would appreciate it.

I only just started looking at those pictures today. I hadn't really had the strength before now. I don't really have the strength now, to be honest. I've been crying ever since I opened those pictures. Most are taken by my youngest sister and shows both of my grandparents during the last years of their lives; seeing pictures and videos of my grandmother after she sustained her brain damage hurts. But there are other pictures too, older ones, and it's stunning how much I'd really forgotten.

I could always tell when a picture was taken during a big event because my grandmother's hair would be permed. My grandfather was a classic "dad who didn't want the cat" kind of grandparent, and all of our animals adored him. My grandmother wore two different shoes to my little sister's high school graduation. My grandfather wore the same pair of brown pants for literal decades, to the point they were falling apart, because the company that used to make those pants no longer made the exact shade of brown he liked and he refused to wear any other kind.

I know what my grandmother sounded like again. I know, I remember, that she would always insist on saying "I love you" at least once a conversation. She always wanted to make sure we knew that.

I'm still not the most sentimental person. I couldn't really care less about souvenirs. But I take more pictures now, and keep the birthday cards with handwritten notes that my older sister sends me, because I feel conscious of the fact that the people in those pictures aren't always going to be there. I have my grandmother's wedding ring that I keep on a necklace, and I'm probably going to deal with a crying headache the rest of the day for looking at these pictures.

But it's worth it. It is.

[kingrosalani]

I'll miss you forever mommy.

TW FOR GRIEF, DEATH, LOSING A PARENT, DYING.

A lot of times when people pass, people that knew them always say “I just wish I held onto them closer.” or “I wish I was nicer” “I wish I told them” this and that and a lot of wishes.

As someone that was quite the opposite with my loved one, my mother, I’m going to tell you the grief you feel does not change whether you held onto them tightly or not enough. Nothing can make this grief easier.

I held onto my mother’s hand and she held onto mine. She was my number one and she always told me I was hers. Unconditional love and support without a doubt. She defended me, she understood me to the core, she let me ramble, she let me get mad, she let me cry, she loved me through and through no matter what. Some people thought I was too close to her, but I’m so, so thankful I was unbelievably close to her. 

In December, we had a conversation after she was turned away from heart surgery. I made the mistake in googling heart failure and ended up in a few hours of spiraling anxiety over the fact I may lose my mom someday. We were open and honest with each other, so I went into her room and cried to her about this.

She held me as tight as she could, her arms shook and she told me “Well.. if I only have 5 years left, let these be the best 5 years we can have together”. 

I asked her how she felt about the possibility of dying from heart failure. She told me that grandma always said “when it’s your time, it’s your time” in the most calm voice. I think she knew how rough her situation was. My mother tried so hard to fight and to live every day, but heart failure didn’t just take a toll on her heart, but her lungs, muscles, eyes, diabetes, kidneys and so much more combined into the factor. 

I know it’s because I’m young and very stubborn, but I told her I’d be her coach and a cheerleader for her recovery. I would annoy her daily about her appointments, calling people for things, when her appointments are, when I’d need to take work off, picking up her meds, etc etc. I knew I had the strength she needed to keep going.

But like my grandmother said, when it is your time, it is your time. My mother was tired and in pain. It was very hard for her to breath and just walk around even just in the house. 

I’d make her lift little 3 pound weights or drive her to the store so she can walk around. 

One her last day, I took her out for lunch at Vibrant Coffeehouse because I recently went there and enjoyed it a lot. I thought she’d like it too and I wanted to treat her on my payday. 

I took a picture of her, like I always do. And we joked about how pale she is now. She couldn’t believe how “haole” she was looking (in her words). We even joked that she looked dead. 

Unfortunately 10 hours later, she would be. In front of me. In our home after I spent what felt like hours but was really minutes performing CPR on her just 5 minutes after her, her friends and my father went out to El Maya to hangout. She was gone.

I always knew deep down this was the possibility, but you never want it to come true. I tried to pull away from her the past 2 months, stay busy with myself, my music, my business, my internship, making sure she was on top of things but also allowing her to just be and just rest. I tried learning to cook some meals, I paid attention to her paying bills, researching ways to help her get better and more. I tried to just be with myself. I failed at that. I spent many nights in her room, just being there. I spent many mornings, annoying her with my hugs or a cat. Or both. I know it didn’t bother her and I also didn’t care if I was annoying with my love for her either. I always have been.

While I know I am not alone. Losing the closest person to me is the loneliest thing in the entire world and I’m scared. I’m scared of what happens next. I’m scared about my own father’s future now. I’m scared for the security in others. I am scared.

What a horrible life lesson it is to lose someone, but at the same time, it’s only horrible on my end. She left this world fast, happy and with her loved ones. For the best.

I’ll never stop writing about her or posting about her or sharing my love for her. I love you mama. A hui hou.

[wispforever]

if youre still doing the character thing, how about spirit or marie?

I sure am. How about Spirit And Marie? Both wonderful characters. I’ll do Marie first, then Spirit. Thanks for the excuse to infodump, really. You people are too kind.

Marie Mjolnir

My first impression of Marie was the same impression I get of most female characters in anime. It’s either “why do their clothes have to look like that” or “oh god here comes the obligatory sexist heteronormative romance”. For Marie, it was more of the second. They mention in the same episode she’s introduced that Stein is her “first love”, which told me that if she had a large place in the plot, her assigned male counterpart around which to orbit would be him. Though I’ve never read the Soul Eater manga, I believe they do end up getting together there (I could be wrong). Whatever the case, I was relieved that Marie’s and Stein’s relationship (though heavily implied to be romantic, at least on Marie’s side) was left open to interpretation in the anime. I’m just very sick of cool badass female characters like Marie being reduced to the man they pine after. So, I guess my first impression of Marie and my impression of her now are largely the same. While I appreciate the moments we get to see her strengths and ability to operate on her own, I do think that her character really suffers because of the whole sexist “oh gosh all I want is to find a husband and retire” “oh my I have to take care of Stein” like okay, I had enough at the cat girl smothering Soul with her humungo-tits. I had enough at sexualizing underage girls and women in general. I had enough at making sexual harassment a punchline. That being said, when we push all of the shitty writing to the side, I admire Marie for her strength and how she interacts with the children, Crona in particular. Which leads me to my favorite moment(s).

The relationship Crona and Marie have interests me the most, since I’m really drawn to the parallels between Marie and Medusa. As parental figures (and as characters), they’re about as different as you can get. As Crona’s mother, Medusa is obviously abusive. Along with being negligent, she abuses Crona mentally, emotionally, and physically. In general, Medusa is a person who doesn’t appear to value interpersonal relationships, putting it nicely. She instead is more focused on her own interests, often to the detriment of those around her. Crona is Medusa’s only immediate family (besides Arachne who she is estranged from), and so they suffer the most from her refusal to show even a shred of human decency or warmth. They suffer especially because they are her child, meaning they’re stuck with her essentially, and repetivie abuse between family members like a mother and child often becomes complex because of the necessity of having a parental figure in your life to support you as you grow up. Medusa teaches Crona that their boundaries don’t matter and that they are only good as long as they are useful and do as they’re told. This is what makes Marie’s influence on Crona so cool to watch. Marie is caring by nature, loving and nurturing by nature. Her very wavelegnth is healing. She is kind and does what’s right reflexively. Marie is the exact embodiment of what Crona always needed but what, even upon being rescued by the academy, still felt so foreign to them: unconditional love. Crona struggles to understand why the other kids helped them, why Maka felt the inclination to stop their battle and save Crona instead by trying to understand them, why the kids are still so kind to them even after everything. They do not understand that love is not a bargaining chip. It isn’t leverage in an argument. It’s not a tool for emotional manipulation. Love is caring for the people close to you, just because. Love for the sake of love. The other kids and teachers at the academy are the ones who are able to pull Crona out of all Medusa’s lies, and Marie is a Huge part of that. Even though I have greivances with this being the largest part of her character and what that implies for female characters in general, it doesn’t stop being so beautiful to me that she could help Crona heal in this way. Marie = best mom for the win

Most of the story ideas I have for Marie involve her relationship with Crona or Stein. Say, this covers my unpopular opinion too. I don’t like Stein and Marie as a couple, but I really enjoy writing them as friends, because even though I don’t really jive with them being together romantically, I think their dynamic is an interesting one to explore because they Are so different.

Getting into that a little bit more, I’d like to start by saying I don’t care if other people like Stein and Marie being a couple. That’s great doods, keep doing you. The fanart’s adorable, the meta’s fantastic. Whoever you are, SteinMarie shippers, ffs keep kicking ASS. This is just my preference and opinion. Zero shade in this house. That said, because of my frustrations about Marie’s character I discussed in the first paragraph, I don’t like the idea of her and Stein being together romantically. It’s really a classic sexist trope: the troubled man and his sweet nurse. I’m also just fed up in general with the hetero-nonsense, so there. However, they are both wonderful characters that I enjoy very much seperately. Also, I think it’s worth mentioning that I’ve only seen the anime, so I can’t speak for the manga as far as their relationship or Marie’s character in general.

Oh shit I accidentally already talked about this one lmao [see the second paragraph]

One headcanon I like to think about when I’m writing Marie is that she likes women (in addition to men or not) and she struggles with comphet. Just something interesting I like to think about. It’s really fun for me to take characters who have been written as pining or had 10 million failed relationships and be like “say what if they can’t find a husband cuz really what they really need is a wife”. I’ll talk about that more with Spirit inevitably.

Spirit Albarn

My first impression of Spirit, obviously him being a cheater, really came with a lot of distaste. I come from a family that was torn apart by infidelity, among other things, so it really rubs me the wrong way. However, his saving grace for me was that he genuinely loves his daughter. It appears that, whether it’s played for laughs or not, he just can’t find fulfillment in his romantic relationships. The reason is left up to the veiwers. Spirit, ultimately, is not just a shitty person, which is how most cheaters are protrayed in media. “Well, they cheated because they don’t care if they hurt people”, “they cheated because they are shit and that’s it”. That’s a fine explanation if you plan to do nothing with whatever character you’re describing, but Spirit is relatively recurring and is shown to be neither mean-spirited or emotionally unintelligent. It bothers me that his cheating and routine sexist behaviour isn’t taken seriously enough to be a subject that Soul Eater tackles and deals with. But that’s fine. I’ll just do it myself. At any rate, I still feel that same way about Spirit’s character, but I find it intriguing that he seems to genuinely want to become a better father and is actually a pretty good dad when it comes to his interactions with Maka. If Soul Eater had been brave enough to develop him more, maybe delve into the reasoning behind his impulsive romantic affairs, I think Spirit as a character could have been done more justice. It seems to me that he could be suffering from some of that wonderful compulsory heterosexuality that I mentioned before, then becoming confused when the woman he claims to love leaves him feeling empty. Rattling my gay little cage

When I think of my favorite moments with Spirit, I think of his moments with Maka, but I’m gonna hold off on that until I get to favorite relationship(s). In reference to what I talked about in the first paragraph, one moment I find really interesting when I’m thinking about my interpretation of Spirit’s character is the scene where he and Maka are on the roof talking. Maka asks Spirit why he cheated on her mother if he did, in fact, love her. He doesn’t appear to know the answer, and he doesn’t really understand how to effectively communicate that, though he was shitty husband, what he really wants now is to try and be a better dad. We hear his inner monologue, and he says something like “I love you [Maka] and your mama. That’s the truth. That’s the truth. That’s the truth.” Every time he says “its the truth” it sounds more like he’s forcing it. This is actually something that is SO strange to me. Even if I didn’t project a queer narrative on to the characters I love, I would look at this and be like “huh that is a Weird thing to say in that specific way”. Why does he say it like that? Why does he have to say it more than once? He’s only talking to HIMSELF. It isn’t like he’s trying to convince Maka. Why does he have to convince himself?? Could it possibly be because he’s reached a conclusion about his romantic/sexual orientation that he’s been trying to swallow his Entire Life??? makes ya wonder, doesn’t it, queers?

Just like I said when I talked about Stein, most of the stories I have in mind with Spirit center around that sweet gayness. But also, I like to think of ways Spirit could come to terms with his sexuality, how it might have affected him when he was young, his relationship with all these women, with his wife. I love to think about him being a dad at 18 and trying his best, but how much responsibility that must have been. Lots of great ideas when it comes to Spirit.

Um? unpopular opinion would be all the standard like I said with Stein lmao. “Oh no!” scream the heteros, “that they/them on tumblr is making Soul Eater queer we canst not allow that in our church!!!111!” But besides that, maybe even the fact that I think he’s redeemable?? Idk most everyone I’ve met thinks Spirit is funny at least and just calls him a dumbass and a slut (affectionate). Doesn’t mean anybody thinks cheating on your wife 56 times is okay so. I like this fandom, it’s chill here. My favorite is when I see my art tagged like “aw the stupid man and his crazy bf” like YOU ARE RIGHT

My favorite relationship when it comes to Spirit (besides Stein cuz if I start talking about them again I’ll never finish this ask) is the one he has with Maka. If you can call it a relationship lol. I guess I just find Spirit’s approach to Maka as a parent really refreshing. Not that the parents in other shows don’t love their kids or whatever, it’s just that the loving parent always seems to be paired with some other trope that makes their character hard to approach. especially in anime. Like the perfect mother who dies in the first episode, and we spend the rest of the show mourning her. Or the father whose love is somehow everlasting even though he’s never home. It’s really the fact that Spirit is even THERE that I love. He knows what Maka is up to. He talks about her. He’s invested in her life, and he loves her. All he wants is to spend time with her, and though he’s sad when she turns him down, he doesn’t push her. god dammit I just like a dad who actually loves his kids without all the usual strings attached like. oh my kids are a huge pain in my ass, but I love them in spite of it. oh i’m a man so can’t relate to my children in a meaningful way but i try. Get the fuck outta here with that shit. I want all the dads to get so happy when their daughters wanna hang with them that they throw up like Spirit. Give me the guy who loves his daughter so naturally, whose daughter is such a huge part of his life, that it doesn’t even occur to him stop trying even if she literally wants to murder him. That’s Spirit. jfc

To end with a cute little headcanon, I really love to think that when Spirit gets older and starts losing the color in his hair, instead of getting white or grey, his hair turns a pale pink color cuz he’s such an aggressive redhead. Wouldn’t that just be adorable? late 30′s, early 40′s, Spirit starts getting little pink streaks in his hair and then bam. Little pink old man Spirit XD

There ya have it. Thanks for the ask, and feel free to send more.

[mopeytropey]

skip the beer, pour the whiskey 

a beer buds series: chapter 7 (or as @orangeyouglad8 and I have coined it: The Separation)

Available on AO3 at the link above or below the cut: 

Timeline: The Separation -- this falls within the span of time during which Clarke and Lexa were not speaking as they dealt with the fallout of having crossed a major boundary in their friendship (chapter 5 of 'apu'). Lexa has the sads and Lincoln, as always, is lovely.

Beer: glass of bourbon on the rocks  ::: Lexa is awash in contradictions.

She tends to find indecisiveness in others frustrating; recognizing the trait in herself is intolerable.

She has suffered this recent truth about herself for months—feeling inept at choosing a path and toeing a line between a dual existence.

Loyalty. Truth. Stay. Leave. Costia. Clarke.

In the absence of Clarke, she is further paralyzed. Lexa has spent the better part of November wallowing in the consequences of her inaction. Obstinate loyalty has caused her to lose Clarke, leaving her tethered to Costia by her own hand.

In a cruel twist, Costia spends more time at home, worrying over Lexa’s wellbeing while her students prepare for their finals during the early weeks of December. The extra care and concern, brief hugs and soft looks, only makes Lexa feel worse.

She’s agreed to Lincoln cooking her another meal, in a moment of weakness, and each step she takes towards his apartment is heavy with regret. She doesn’t wish to see friendly, familiar faces. She doesn’t deserve their kindness. Not even the prospect of time spent in Lincoln’s company has sounded appealing in the last month. Lexa has been hermitting away for weeks—mourning the loss of Clarke’s friendship and throwing herself a spectacular pity party.

At first, it was merely Clarke’s shift in tone. She had turned stringent, detached, employing the professional air of a work colleague. Her responses to Lexa’s texts lost all their effusive flair, cooling by degrees until they ended entirely. The message was clear: Lexa had said too much, showed her hand, and scared Clarke away.

“Hey.” Lincoln answers the door with a meager smile. Not the bright beam of light that he so often wears in Lexa’s presence but something kind and cautious.

“Hi.”

They engage in a brief, one-arm hug as Lexa crosses the threshold into Lincoln’s warm and fragrant apartment. She holds a peppermint tea in one hand, having stopped for something to keep her warm on her walk. She’s started frequenting a coffee shop closer to her apartment, not purely for convenience but by intention. Avoiding the more familiar shop by the water feels like adhering to some silent set of boundaries that Clarke has put in place.

“It smells good in here,” she tells Lincoln while slipping out of her shoes by the door and setting down her tea to remove her coat and hat.

“Pot roast and potatoes.”

Comfort food.

Lexa finds her smile for the first time in weeks, and Lincoln squeezes a hand to her shoulder before returning to his kitchen. She follows behind with her tea, running her fingers through the curls that have been flattened beneath her winter hat.

When Lexa was newly fostered by Gustus, he’d attempted a welcoming, home-cooked meal. The pot roast was tough and sinewy, the potatoes undercooked and flavorless. Lexa had never felt so utterly cared for, filling her plate no less than three times. Over the years, she, Anya, and Gus—Lincoln too, for how often he would find himself at their kitchen table—worked to improve the recipe together. They studied spice blends, cuts of meat, and countless cooking videos. Even their perpetual culinary failures were communal, familial. Eventually, it evolved into a cherished family favorite that Lexa directly associates with the comfort and safety of home. It remains the one meal her father is capable of preparing with relative success to this day.  

“Thanks for cooking.”

“I’m glad you came over,” Lincoln smiles at her from the stove. He doesn’t say finally, though she feels the implication.

Lincoln has continuously attempted to see her, despite Lexa’s refusal to socialize. Passing conversations at work and random text messages have been their only contact for almost a month, but Lincoln never stopped reaching out to her. She wonders if anything might have gone differently had she not eventually given up on repairing things with Clarke.

When days without contact turned into weeks, Lexa panicked. As the weeks stacked into a month, she lost all hope for restoring her friendship with Clarke.

It’s the space she wants, Lexa keeps telling herself. Further engagement would only push Clarke farther away.

“Can I get you a drink?” Lincoln is already drinking something from a beer glass but opens the fridge as he sips. “Octavia just restocked me with a bunch of shit I haven’t tried yet.”

“Uh, sure. Just … surprise me,” Lexa shrugs.

Incapable of making decisions. Even for the sake of alcohol. Lexa grinds her jaw at her own vacillating shortcomings: infuriating.

“You got it.” Lincoln works on making his selection while Lexa finishes sipping her tea, hoping it will calm her, and deposits her paper cup into the trash bin when she’s through.

“Actually, do you have any whiskey?”

Lincoln is chuckling as he abandons the fridge, leading them out of the kitchen. “Say no more.”

He stops beside a fully stocked drinks cart—mid century design of stained walnut with dull, brassy rails and casters. Lexa recognizes it immediately. “Is this the same cart from your moms’ house?” She runs a finger along one of the slender rails while examining its well-preserved design.

“Yep. The one thing I was allowed to take with me when I moved up here,” Lincoln grins proudly.

Lexa can feel the ghost of another smile. “I’m surprised Alice allowed it.”

“She practically wept when we loaded it onto the moving truck, but you know Rosa has a hard time saying no to her mijo.” His beaming smile returns, dimples and all, and Lexa rolls her eyes.

“It is an exceptional piece of furniture.”

“I swore to care for it like a firstborn child.”

Lexa smiles again, examining the bottles of liquor. “They’re still in New York?”

“Oh, moms are never leaving Carol Gardens, you know that. I think that house belonged to Alice’s great grandmother or something.”

Lexa lapses into fond memories of Lincoln’s childhood home—a stark difference from the foster families and group homes he’d previously survived in his younger years. Rosa and Alice were generous, kind, and gracious caretakers from the start. Eager to become parents and intent on making Lincoln feel safe and supported, they never gave up in spite of his ingrained mistrust. Their unconditional love and acceptance had been so unexpected and surreal, Lincoln spent the first six months of his stay with them waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“That party you threw over winter break freshman year.” Lexa smiles fondly at the recollection.

“Oh my god, I was grounded for an eternity.”

“Anya and I were afraid to show our faces for weeks after that.”

Lincoln tsks her recollection and rolls his eyes. “As if you two could ever do wrong in their eyes.”

“Did you go back for Thanksgiving?”

Lincoln uncharacteristically balks, his gaze falling to the collection of liquor bottles that sit on the drinks cart. “Uh, no. I’m taking O to New York for a few days after Christmas so she can meet Alice and Rosa, but we, uh, we went to—Octavia never really spends holidays with her family because she prefers the Griffins, you know, and we usually all just go to, uh—”    

He can’t even bring himself to utter her name, and it still feels like a punch to Lexa’s sternum.

“You can say her name,” Lexa tries for nonchalance, shoving her hands into her jeans pockets and smiling unsurely as she furthers the lie: “I’m not going to break apart or anything.”

“Right.” Lincoln clears his throat. “Anyway, Clarke hosts this little friends’ gathering every year at her place. You know how she likes to cook.”

“Right.” Lexa nods swiftly, trying desperately not to think about all of the other wonderful things about Clarke that make her disproportionately likable, not least of all her passion for food.

“How was your holiday? You were with Costia’s aunt?”

“Yes.” Her entire body feels rigid; a forced exhale does little to ease the tension. “It was … nice. Her aunt and uncle are great people.”

“Well, we missed you.” He offers hopefulness that Lexa doesn’t dare cling to. “Next year.”

She swallows roughly, unable to conjure a valid response, and hoists a bottle from the top tray of Lincoln’s cart. “I’ll try this one.”

Lincoln’s guarded smile is back, and Lexa wishes she weren’t the cause of it. “Let me get you some ice.” He reaches to a lower shelf for a glass. “Unless you want it neat?”

“No, I’ll take some ice. Thank you.”

Lincoln leaves her for the kitchen just as Gus emerges from the bedroom with a yawning stroll towards the couch. She is a giant ball of elegant, grey fur. Lexa follows her movements and plops onto a sofa cushion just as Gus leaps gracefully atop the armrest opposite.

“Are you keeping your distance now too?”

Gus watches her for a moment, calculating. It takes only the extension of her hand across the cushion for the cat to approach, nudging her nose into Lexa’s palm a moment later. She feels settled by Gus’s presence instantly. By the time Lincoln returns with her drink, she’s been lulled by loud purring and the downy fur between her fingers.

:::

Dinner is exceptionally prepared, and Lexa feels infinitely better with a full stomach. She and Lincoln talk of New York, and family, and the changing seasons. He’s being careful with her still, avoidant out of kindness and caution, but she knows there are things he wants to say.

On the couch after dinner, with Gus in her lap and a second whiskey sitting on the table beside her, Lexa finally makes a decision. She tells Lincoln the truth.

“I think I scared her off.”

Lincoln practically jolts at his end of the sofa when he realizes what subject Lexa is broaching. He has switched to whiskey as well—in solidarity, he’d said—and the two of them sip quietly for a few moments while Lincoln processes the new information. Lexa tries not to feel like a specimen under a microscope.

“Clarke?” His face creases in thought a moment later when Lexa nods. “That girl does not frighten easily—what makes you think you scared her off?”

“I talked to her about Costia.”

Lincoln’s dark eyes widen by a fraction. “What did you tell her?”

“How we almost broke up in New York. The disconnect I’ve been experiencing since moving up here.” Lexa exhales, feeling a rush at finally airing her admissions. “We were a little drunk.”

“Okay,” Lincoln smiles. “Still, I don’t think that would—”

“And then I sort of fell asleep on her couch … with her.”

She looks up from her lap to see the blatant shock in Lincoln’s gaping jaw and wide eyes. His expression would be priceless and more than a little humorous if she weren’t so anxious and full of regret over her actions.  

“Okay, that might sufficiently freak her out.”

“I know.” Lexa covers her face with both hands, and Lincoln instantly backpedals his reaction.

“No, no wait. Lex, sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you did anything wrong.”

“I did. I messed up everything. I haven’t dealt with anything that’s going on with Costia, and Clarke is dating now—”  

“Hey.” Lincoln wraps a hand around one of her ankles where her legs are stretched along the length of the couch, and only then does she pull her hands from her face to look at him. “Listen to me: you did not do anything wrong. I’ve crashed at friends’ houses hundreds of times, so unless you’re telling me that you fell asleep naked …”

Just the sound of that image has Lexa’s stomach bottoming out as she buries her face into the crook of an elbow. “Linc, oh my god. No.”  

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, too proud of himself for having embarrassed her. “In that case, you really haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just—this is Clarke.”

Her eyes drift back to the cat asleep in her lap, and Lexa’s voice softens. “I know.”

“Do you?” Lincoln urges.

Lexa looks up. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

He smiles at her like an older brother might tease his distraught, younger sibling in the middle of an existential crisis. “Just checking.”

“The sleeping part was completely accidental,” Lexa grumbles, her face still cooling from the heated shame of imagining Lincoln’s inquiry while reaching for her drink.

Lincoln shrugs. “Hey, it happens.”

“Not with Clarke it doesn’t.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” Lincoln considers her for another moment, sipping at his drink while Lexa fidgets with a seam on her shirt. “What did Costia say when you told her about staying over at Clarke’s?”

“She was glad I was safe—that I didn’t try to walk home or anything.” Lexa exhales and watches for Lincoln’s reaction. “Why?”

“I just think her response is indicative of your relationship. On the one hand, there’s obviously trust there. She’s worried more about your safety than the threat of you sleeping on another woman’s couch.” Lexa can feel her cheeks warm again and takes a sip of her whiskey. “On the other hand,” Lincoln pauses, waiting to catch Lexa’s eye. “Costia’s not an idiot either.”

There it is.  

The truth (or at least an insinuation of it) that they have been dancing around for months. Lincoln’s gaze is not unkind but unrelenting in forcing her to confront her own culpability.

“I know.” Lexa thinks her voice has never sounded so small.

“You guys ever have that talk after DC?”

“No.”

Their intentions had been good. But in the end, they had been hindered by Costia’s schedule going into finals and Lexa taking on new responsibilities through Trikru. By the time they caught up with each other again, Clarke was gone and Lexa couldn’t see anything beyond the shape of her absence.

“I don’t even know if it’s worth it at this point,” she continues. “Who’s to say the same results wouldn’t keep happening again in relationships with other people?” Lexa bites at her lip, deepening the furrow in her brow. “What if the real problem is just me?”

“Hey, don’t say that shit about one of my best friends.”

Lexa finally makes eye contact to see Lincoln’s warm gaze looking back at her. Reassurance floods in even amidst all her surging self doubt.

“Deciding to be with someone shouldn’t be about calculated risk.” He rubs a hand across his abdomen, smiling fondly in contemplation. “You either feel it, or you don’t.”

“Feelings continuously shift and change—they’re an unreliable barometer.”

“Not always,” Lincoln challenges. “Sometimes you get that kick behind your ribs while in someone’s presence. Or, you feel that persistent pressure against your back, pushing you towards someone—you have to give those feelings some weight if it’s more than a fleeting impulse.”

She’s had similar debates with herself a million times, always ending up at the same conclusion. “I had all of those same feelings with Costia. And, look what’s happened to us.”

He tips his glass in Lexa’s direction. “Okay, sure. And, if those feelings have faded, doesn’t that warrant some consideration too?”  

“I don’t … I don’t trust myself to make the right decision.”

It might be the most honest admission she’s had in months. She’s relieved that Lincoln is her confidante when the truth slips out and the reassurance of his soft smile returns.

“You’re always too hard on yourself, Lex. It doesn’t have to be so complicated.”

Lexa responds only by glaring at him spectacularly over the rim of her glass. Teaching herself molecular physics might be less daunting than solving her current relationship dilemma.

“I’m serious!” He defends himself through a laugh. “Okay. For me, it’s just about wanting to spend time with that one person more than anyone else. It’s not always fireworks or these massive heart palpitations, sometimes it’s just preference. Like, I prefer this one person’s company over everyone else, regardless of how long the relationship lasts.”  

Lexa arches an eyebrow. “So it doesn’t matter if you and Octavia don’t last?”

“Oh no, she’s stuck with my ass forever.”

Lexa’s laughter dislodges some of the unease tightening in her chest.

“Honestly though,” Lincoln continues, “if O eventually met someone and felt that same draw that I feel towards her, or struck some connection that she believed would make her happier than I could … I would want her to explore that.”

Lexa watches her friend and resumes stroking her hand atop Gus’s head. “You’re an unbelievably good person, do you know that?”

“You are too, buddy. Don’t convince yourself otherwise.”

“Thanks,” Lexa responds softly.

“And, maybe Clarke is sorting through some stuff or taking space to figure out her own shit, but she’s not gone forever, okay? She’ll be back.”

Lexa releases a heavy sigh, wishing she shared Lincoln’s optimism.

In a week, she’ll leave for her holiday in New York. She’ll have the comfort of her father—his monstrous hugs, booming laughter, and mediocre cooking. And, she’ll face Anya, a far more imposing audience than Lincoln or Gus, in the midst of this internalized, romantic crisis. She’s exhausted by her own ambivalence and wishes someone in her life could just give her the right answers.

She wants shared laughter on the warm sand of a deserted beach.

She wants to place a coffee order for someone else and know it by heart.

She wants petty arguments about meaningless things that dissolve into long hugs and gentle apologies.

She wants extravagant brunches and lazy Sunday mornings, shared smiles in crowded rooms and soft touches that speak volumes.    

Her desires are not uncommon. She could likely have these experiences with any number of women. Lexa reconsiders the simplicity of Lincoln’s perspective and dares to hope that a solution to her indecision could be so cut and dry. Because if the answer is preference, her solution is simple.

She doesn’t want these experiences with just anyone. More than anything, she wants them with Clarke.

[datleggy]

a list of every anime i love/recommend, accumulated over the last 10+ years

1. NATSUME YUUJINCHOU 

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

The main character is a teenage boy named Natsume, whose parents died when he was too young to remember them properly. He’s passed around random relatives homes, but because he can see yokai (spirits), he’s ostracized by classmates and his foster families (ALL HIS CHILDHOOD FLASHBACKS ARE SO FUCKING SAD) and eventually very distant relatives (an older couple who never had kids of their own and have so much goddamn love to give D:!!!) take Natsume in, and the story basically starts from there. 

It’s a very heart-warming story following Natsume’s new life in this new town, accepting his ability to see yokai, forging new relationships in the form of friends and family, and even with the yokai themselves. 

This is honestly probably my favorite anime/manga period, because it’s so sad but so cathartic and you watch as the main character grows and learns to trust those around him, and finally gets the unconditional love he’s always deserved, not to MENTION THE FACT THAT THEY DO A WHOLE EP WHERE NATSUME IS TURNED BACK INTO A LITTLE KID AND IT IS SOOOO GOOD OMG

Plus for those of you who enjoy whump, this show has a decent amount of it. Mainly emotional whump, but also some episodes where Natsume is injured or sick--as well as I believe one where his companion (the chubby cat on his shoulder who’s actually a pretty badass yokai) gets shot with an arrow and is down for the count. 

10/10 would and have watched again. 

2. KODOCHA NO OMOCHA 

SUMMARY/REVIEW:  The main character is a sixth grader named Sana. She’s a gifted actress on a t.v. show everyone likes and she’s silly and fun, very intuitive and surprisingly empathetic for a child. 

Her main problem is in school, where Akito, who she deems the leader of her class’ wolf pack of rowdy rude boys, lets them terrorize not just the teacher, but all the girls in class, as well. 

I don’t really want to give a lot away, so I’ll just state the obvious. This anime/manga is shoujo, which means that it does focus on a romantic relationship throughout the series. Mainly the one between Sana and Akito. Sana is absolutely oblivious about her own feelings, while Akito is a stubborn little shit. 

I remember watching this at like, age 12 maybe? And I really enjoyed it because (although I do enjoy your typical silly doesn’t take itself too seriously slice of life shoujo) this particular anime, while super funny and light hearted at times, was also really dramatic and even kinda dark, which was surprising considering the characters ages and the general kid-friendly vibe (especially the opening for the anime). 

3. DETECTIVE CONAN

SUMMARY/REVIEW:  Our main character is initially Shinichi Kudo, teenage detective, who’s on a date with childhood sweetheart Ran (whose father also happens to a detective but like....not a good one lmao), when his nosy ass self decides to go and check out some shady business and gets “poisoned”. 

The poison he’s given is intended to kill him, but what it actually does is turn him back into a child. And now, as Conan Edogawa, (who’s 7 but like....we just supposed to believe all these cops and detectives on the force are cool with a seven year old wee lil babe on these really gruesome ass crime scenes??? lmaoooo) we follow him on his adventures as he solves crimes and tries to solve the biggest mystery of all, his own! 

I absolutely LOVE this anime/manga, even though I’ll be honest, there is SO MUCH FILLER, but I like the characters enough that I really don’t mind. The show is at least 900+ episodes in at this point, and there are a total of 26 movies so far, last time I checked. 

Also, the show is a whump fangirls’ dream come true. The main character is thrown out of windows, balconies, shot at, and in one occasion actually shot, he’s had broken bones, sprains, almost been blown up or drowned/burned, been sick, and oh, his occasional transformations from child to teenager are incredibly painful. 

This show is probably at fault for my love of whump, since it was one of my first animes at like, age 9. smh. 

4. THE DEVIL IS A PART-TIMER!

REVIEW:

I’m not even going to summarize this one. The title does it for me. This is truly one of the funniest animes I’ve ever seen. Motherfuckin Satan works at a McDonalds part time and it is the BEST. 

Technically I would count this show as a kind of harem, but only because there are like three main girl characters after the overlord Satan himself. I usually dislike harem type animes but the way this is done is sooooo good I couldn’t resist. 

I would watch a million filler episodes of Satan trying to solve problems at his minimum wage job tbh. I love every single character, I love the plot, I love everything about this anime! In terms of comedy (with the occasional plot driven serious moments) this is IT bro. 

5. BLACK BUTLER

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

The main character is Ciel Phantomhive (roughly 14 years old). His parents are killed, his house is burned to ashes, and he’s kidnapped (around age 9 or 10 I believe) and abused. During this abuse Ciel calls upon a demon to free him and help him get revenge on those who harmed the Phantomhive household, which is where Sebastian, one “hell of a good butler” comes in. 

We then follow Ciel and Sebastian on their path of vengeance, and along the way we meet Ciel’s human servants, three very clumsy and seemingly bad at their given tasks characters (i love them all), and some of his extended relatives and connections. 

My favorite thing about Black Butler is the art, both in the anime and manga. Everything is so detailed and pretty! 

The characters are interesting, the plot is dark but they manage to make most of the series overall pretty light-hearted and funny in general. Though of course there are chapters/parts of the series that get really grim (which duh, the whole thing focuses on revenge so...) 

I have to say, the arc I enjoyed the most has to be the movie, Black Butler: Book Of the Atlantic. It is beautifully drawn and sooooooo entertaining. 

6. INUYASHA 

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

Our main characters are Inuyasha, a half-demon, who’s been in a sort of spiritually binding coma for the last few decades, and fourteen year old Kagome, who falls into an old well in her family’s shrine and finds herself being transported into another time period. 

Together, she and Inuyasha travel across the lands in the feudal era to find the scattered shards of the shikon jewel, a powerful jewel which grants anyone who possesses it ultimate power. 

I was too young to stay up and watch Inuyasha on adult swim, so my mom would tape the show on a VCR for me to watch the next day after school--yes, I’m old old. lmaoooo I ADORE this show. 

It’s so good! It’s got everything! A tortured lil half-demon with a sad past who’s stubborn and rude but got a good heart! A fierce and equally as stubborn main protagonist, who’s whole ass family knows exactly where she goes off to??? and are supportive af????? like???? her mama packs her and her squad of demon/exorcist/demon hunter pals bentos?!?! lmao i love it. 

The characters are awesome and funny and likable as all heck, and of course they all have their sad backstory, but like, unlike some animes (lookin at YOU Naruto) they don’t go mega overboard on it, at least not without some plot behind the episode. 

7. YU YU HAKUSHO 

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

Before I even start in on the summary, ya’ll should watch this soley bc of the cute ass 90′s style animation alone. LOOK AT ALL THAT SHINY HAIR!

ANYWAY. Main character is teenage hooligan and overall cutie pie Yusuke! He gets struck by a car and fucking DIES in the first episode after shoving a little boy out of the way, only to end up in the spirit world where the head honcho up there (who looks like a wee baby) tells him “Oh shit, didn’t expect you to like, actually do anything self-sacrificing EVER so like, you’re not on our list of people who were supposed to die today...” 

And uh, I don’t wanna give anything away, so I’m just gonna say that if you haven’t seen this anime yet, you definitely should! It’s hilarious and dramatic, the fight scenes are very well done, all the side characters, who eventually become main characters are a blessing (specifically Hiei, who’ve I’ve had a crush on since I was 12) and the ending is a satisfying one, which you can’t really say for a lot of media. 

8. CHRONO CRUSADE 

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

I still get weepy when I think of this anime, so all I’ll say is it’s about a badass demon slaying nurse and her demon companion and some very tragic shit. 

It’s a great anime overall, especially if you like crying yourself to sleep at night :) 

9. GHOST HUNT

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

The main character is high school student Mai, who is hired by Naru, the head of a Shibuya psychic research, and together, with a group of questionable exorcists/psychics, they encounter paranormal phenomenons and some outright scary shit. 

I’m not really a fan of the horror genre tbh but I do like mystery, and the series deals with that quite a bit. They deal with each case for several episodes so nothing feels too rushed. 

The series is really fun in a creepy, wtf is that way. I recommend the manga, only because it’s more detailed in terms of plot than the anime. 

10. ASSASSINATION CLASSROOM 

SUMMARY/REVIEW: 

I didn’t really make this list in any particular order but if I had to say, Assassination Classroom and Natsume Yuujinchou probably tie for BEST ANIME PERIOD! 

This anime is about a weird ass “alien” creature, no one knows where it came from or why tf it’s here on earth, all they know is that in one year it’s threatened to blow the world up. 

His only request to the government is that they let him become a teacher for Class E, the worst class of Kunugigaoka Junior High School, and he will stay put, so that they can attempt an assassination on him during this one year period. 

AND LISTEN! I am a shallow hoe, so I literally never would have read this manga or watched the series had I not been roaming Barnes and Noble one day with my S.O. and picked it up to read as a JOKE! 

I was hooked after the first chapter and I am soooooooo glad I picked this manga up, bc it is absolutely not the type I would normally go for, cover art wise. I finally, after many many years, learned not to judge a book by its cover bc LORD this anime is so goddamn good, you don’t understand! Like, I’ve watched it so many times and still laugh at the same parts, cry at the same parts, am proud af at the same parts! like, this anime is an instant classic and should definitely be more popular than it is. 

assassination classroom and natsume yuujinchou????? MASTERPIECES! 

[echoes-of-realities]

.

I’m a writer, and despite not knowing how I feel or what to write, I wanted someplace to record all the things I do remember about him. I spent so long trying to erase every memory of him, and now that he’s really, truly gone, I want all those memories I hated back.

He always smelled of cigarette smoke, sweat, sawdust, and something sweet I can never ever name until I get a whiff of a can of Pepsi being cracked open.

He was quiet, and reserved, and he didn’t like to drink. I get that from him. I got my sweet tooth and terrible eyesight from him too, and I take my coffee the same way he used to. I remember because my sister once tried his coffee before he put the cream and sugar in it and she somehow loved it black; my dad and me couldn’t understand how this three year old liked black coffee. I’m scared I got his addicting personality too, which is why I rarely touch alcohol and will never gamble in my life.

He loved yard sales and pawn shops. It didn’t matter where we were going or how late for a job he would be, he would always pull over and look through them. Was it irresponsible? Yeah, of course, but he would let us wander the plastic tables of people selling their long forgotten memories and dusty old regrets and he never rushed us even as the clock ticked further and further away from being on time.

He bought a GameCube and the Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker for $70 from a yard sale once. We used to crowd around the tv and play together, just the three of us. My sister was too young to handle the controller, but we used to let her sail around the ocean while we looked up walkthroughs. I spent almost 2 frustrating hours trying to do the part on the pirate ship at the very beginning, but when he came home he did it for me and it took him like 10 seconds. I thought it was a miracle despite not knowing what a miracle was.

He once adopted a cockatiel from the lady who hired him to redo her kitchen flooring instead of taking payment for a job. My mom hated that he did that, and hated that bird even more. I was five, but he let me name him Cuddles even though he knew you can’t really cuddle a bird.

He used to set up a cheap tv and our gamecube in his van so my sister and I could play it while he was on jobs. We usually ended up following him around and watching him work though because playing video games by ourselves wasn’t half as fun as seeing strange houses and unrolling carpet. I haven’t even been in a flooring store since, but I could probably install a decent looking carpet even still.

He used to let my sister and I pick the pickles off his McDonald’s burgers even though they were his favourite part, because they were our favourite part too, so he gave them all to us every time.

He bought me a painted wooden elephant from the farmers market just because he saw me looking at it. I can still remember that day; the bright sun, my sister sleeping on my mom’s shoulder, the cement parking bar I was walking on like a tightrope, my dad’s hand in mine and the wooden elephant in the other.

He would call me squirt and monkey instead of sweetie or honey and I always loved that because no other dad I knew called their kids that, and when my sister came along he called her little squirt. I always forget about that until I find myself calling my little cousins squirt or monkey just like he did to me, once upon a forever ago.

He used to fall asleep curled up in front of the fireplace like a cat. Apparently it helped his sore back but I think he just liked the feel of the fire on his face, even if it was electric heat. He once melted a pillow and almost burned down our house and the neighbour’s because we lived in a tiny duplex, but the next day he was fast asleep in front of the fireplace just like always.

He’s the real reason I wanted to learn how to play guitar, and I’ve never once admitted that to anyone. He had an electric guitar and an amp and a microphone set up out in our garage, and I would spend hours trying to get my little fingers to play a chord while he worked on his wood project of the week. He was never any good at it because he never had someone teach him and he was too busy to get better on his own, but I still remember sitting in rapt attention in the garage with cigarette smoke thick in the air between us as he slowly plucked one of the few songs he knew.

The feel of the strings under my fingers and the hum of the body against mine makes me feel closer to him, even in spite of the miles and years and corporeality now between us.

The only thing I have left of him is an old guitar strap, a wooden elephant, and these ashes that were once him.

My dad was a petty thief, he evaded taxes for probably 20 years, he owes over $50,000 in child support, he stole dental equipment and jewelry from jobs, he had a gambling addiction that ruined my family and nearly put us on the street, he went bankrupt and didn’t tell my mom until Canada Revenue was knocking on her door looking for someone to pay off his debts, he abandoned us and hurt me more than anyone else in my life ever has and probably more than anyone else ever will.

He was also just, you know, my dad for 9 years, unquestionably, unconditionally. He taught me to ride a bike, to play video games, to tie my shoes, to sword fight with sticks, to roll carpet properly, to balance on cement parking bars, to bury my sister in sand, to sometimes eat dessert before supper after a really bad day. He gave me my love of music, of video games, of McDonald’s pickles, of fantasy novels, of wolves, of sweet things, of coffee with three teaspoons of sugar. He was my only connection to being Cree and I was too young when he left to ask him all the questions I have about our shared culture.

He was Native and born to two fifteen year olds, the oldest of five kids from four different dads. He never finished grade 8 and started working at age thirteen to help his mom support his siblings. His own father held him in the hospital once the day he was born before being chased off the reserve. His sister never knew her dad either, his brother’s dad was abusive and died of cancer, his youngest brother and sister were 16 years younger than him. He had two kids who were so white passing most people thought we weren’t even his. Between the inter generational trauma and the fact that he never had a stable father figure in his life, it’s a wonder he stayed around as long as he did.

But while knowing this now explains his actions, it doesn’t excuse them. It doesn’t make my own pain magically go away, it doesn’t erase the decade and a half I spent angry and confused and grieving someone who’s love was supposed to be unconditional. I don’t forgive him for all the pain he caused me, but I miss him. I’ve always missed him, despite all the years I spent hiding that with anger.

I’ve always know that grief can be very lonely, I never knew exactly how lonely it truly was until I lost someone that only one other person in my life is grieving. My sister and I are alone, despite the love and support from our friends and family, we’re alone in this. Nobody in our lives aside from us, his only two daughters, miss him.

There’s a different type of grief when you lose an estranged parent, especially one that abandoned you when you were just a kid who had only just learned her times tables and how to write in cursive. It wasn’t my choice to have no contact with him for over half my life, but I still regret those lost years all the same. I’ve been grieving him for fourteen years already, but it’s different now because he’s really gone, not just “out there somewhere.” I used to check obituaries for the town I was born in because I didn’t know whether he was dead or alive, whether he was homeless or had another family, whether he was even in that town or not. He’s really gone now, and so is any chance at ever rekindling with him, at having a relationship with him.

I’ve lost my dad three times in my life:

The first was that February night when he dropped Valentine’s Day gifts off for my sister and I and then disappeared into the dark night, swirling out of focus like the snow falling just out of sight of the porch light.

The second time was that August evening when he sent me a Facebook friend request and I deleted it because I was still so caught up in my anger at him abandoning us that I was in no place to make amends, I know now that it was because he was sick and dying even though it would take another five years before he was truly gone.

The third, and last time, I lost my dad was July 25th, on that windy afternoon when his sister who we’d never met Facebook messaged us to tell us that she found him dead that morning.

I will never lose him again because he’s gone for good now. I’ve know this fact for fourteen years, but somehow it’s so much more painful now than it was on July 24th, when he was out of my life but still out there somewhere, still alive.

[angstmongertina]

For King and Country (The Royal Masquerade)

So I was actually a really big fan of The Royal Masquerade, but I am a huge slut for angsty duty vs. the heart and the fact that we could marry Fabian but didn’t even get the OPTION of breaking it off with our current LI pissed me off just a little bit. So here I am writing fic for that particular option because it’s WHAT MY CHARACTER WOULD DO. So, enjoy?

AO3 Link

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There were several things that Lady Caterina of House Aster, the reigning Queen of Cordonia, knew deep down to be true. She knew that the position she had on the throne was tenuous at best, won through harrowing political strife and months of anxious planning and more blood than she cared to think about. She knew that an army was advancing on the capital, led by those who genuinely believed the lies they told about her, that the resulting civil war would tear the kingdom and her people apart. She knew there was only one soul left in the kingdom whose right to the throne could remain uncontested, who could end the devastating conflict before it began, and who would, by that simple fact alone, make for a far better leader than any of the individuals, herself included, who had spent so long vying for it.

She knew that her priorities would always, always, be her family first, her kingdom second, and herself a far distant third, that her costly victory was first and foremost to defeat those who might feel otherwise, that she owed her people true peace, however that might be achieved.

Such were the thoughts that swirled through her mind as she watched the young man before her, carefree and happy with his art. He bore little resemblance to Aunt Elise, at least that she could see, but something about his smile, his mannerisms as he reassured the young children playing nearby, brought to mind that night of the masquerade, more than a lifetime ago now, when she had unknowingly spoken to Queen Kendra. The same kindness, the same grace, was in his soul, and in spite of the faint pang she felt at her friends’ sacrifices going to waste, her mind was calm knowing that the crown was going to good hands.

Perhaps that was what Hunter had felt, only a few short weeks ago. Perhaps, in the end, it was only right that she do the same, for the good of Cordonia.

That may have been why she was taken so aback by his suggestion, by his offer of marriage to a woman he barely knew, whose reputation was in the process of being torn to shreds. That alone was a good reason for her refusal but…

But mirrored within the depths of the open, honest eyes of Fabian Rhys, she saw the young scribe she herself was only months earlier, living a comparatively simple and honest life in the library, far from the extravagant masks and honeyed half-truths of nobility. While her own position may have been a sign that neither birth nor upbringing were essential for political success, her ascension into a role she had not been prepared for had still been accompanied by friends and family and time to prepare.

Fabian, on the other hand, had a larger burden and fewer allies and, most importantly of all, a gentle spirit that had not yet been hardened by the world of politics. A spirit that she would see preserved, if there were anything in her power to do so.

In spite of herself, her gaze flickered towards Kayden, standing at her side. He watched her, as he always did, with that constant respect and unconditional faith that she didn’t deserve. There was no protest on his face, no trace of dissent. Nothing but deep understanding and acceptance, a recognition of the duty which bound them both. That strong sense of duty they shared, which had brought them together, given them understanding of each other and themselves, and which now threatened to drive them apart.

For a moment, she hesitated, but his lips curved into a smile, small and sad and endlessly supportive, and she knew.

Closing her eyes against the pinpricks of heat in her eyes, she drew a deep breath and stepped forward, taking Fabian’s proffered hand. “I accept.”

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She was not entirely surprised to find Kayden waiting for her outside of the coronation ceremony. At her side, as if sensing her hesitation, Fabian nodded, dropping her hand with an encouraging smile and walking swiftly out of earshot. For a moment, she watched his back as he left, already moving with the confidence of authority, but she could not avoid the conversation, not when she owed him far, far more.

“Cat— Your Majesty.” He sank into a low bow, the proper etiquette for a citizen to his queen, but it was not quite quick enough to disguise the emotion that flashed across his face before his usual stoic mask replaced it.

He knew.

As he straightened, she examined him. Dressed in his usual dark colors, it would have been easy to mistaken his attire for his usual leathers, but a closer look revealed that he was dressed in civilian clothing, without any insignias of the Crown Guard.

Which could only mean…

“Kayden.” Dark eyes snapped up to meet hers, a wordless confirmation, and she let a faint smile curve her lips. “I… I’m sorry.”

Almost before the words had left her mouth, he was shaking his head. “Do not be. Cordonia comes first. That is a point that we have always agreed upon. That I have always admired about you.” He drew a deep breath. “Besides, we both knew that this day would come eventually. A commoner, and worse still, a sorcerer, with Cordonia’s queen? It was never anything more than a dream.”

She shook her head, annoyed in spite of herself. “The circumstances of your birth make you no less than anyone else.”

His laugh was bitter. “Perhaps not, but the people would not be as inclined to agree. You know that just as well as I. After all, it is why Fabian has been accepted so naturally that even his marriage to the so-called usurper queen has had few repercussions. But I will not push our luck for my own selfishness.”

“I don’t—”

A quiet chuckle, this time tinged with a hint of genuine affection. “We both know that you would never betray your vow, especially considering the instability it could bring to Cordonia should anyone find out, but my mere presence at your side may threaten it nonetheless. We have not precisely been subtle, and even so, I would not have your rule tainted by association with a sorcerer accused of regicide. Pardoned or not, I am a source of division that I would not risk. Not against all you have sacrificed.”

Her laugh sounded weak, even to her own ears. “Kayden Vescovi, selfless to the last.”

He shook his head. “I do not know whether it is selflessness or selfishness, not wanting to let all of our other sacrifices to be in vain.”

“I assure you, nobody who truly knows you could ever accuse you of selfishness. And I have no doubt Hunter would agree with me.”

“Biased opinions, the both of you.”

She drew herself up to full height, though she was still what was no doubt comically short compared to him. “You dare accuse the queen and one of her most trusted advisors, the former King-Regent, of bias?”

That drew a true laugh from him. “As a loyal Cordonian to his crown, I would not dare, but as your… friend, I would do what I can, for you and for Cordonia, just as you have done these many months. If that means accusing you of that which is true, then so be it.”

She chuckled, though it faded as quickly as it came, and he cleared his throat, his face studiously blank.

“But… But as your friend, I must ask that you, not the queen but you, Caterina, hear me out and understand my decision.”

She nodded, taking advantage of the time to school her face into a mask of neutrality. “And what of you?”

In spite of her best attempts, her voice wavered and, for a heartbeat, something flashed across his face, gone so quickly that she almost wondered if she had imagined it. “What are my plans?” He sighed, though something resembling a faint smile curved his mouth. “My utmost priority is picking my replacement. In the mere month you have been queen and even before then, you have already had multiple attempts on your life, and I…” Any sign of merriment in his expression dropping, he swallowed, his throat visibly bobbing with the movement. “I would not leave you without first ensuring your safety. I will personally see to that, I swear it.”

“Kayden…”

His hand seemed to twitch at his side as he drew a breath, forcing another smile. “As the former Crown Guard, it is the least I could do for Cordonia, after all.”

She bowed her head, pretending she didn’t see the way he shifted, clasping his hands together behind his back. “Very well. I… We appreciate your thoughtfulness. But afterwards?”

An unusual look of uncertainty crossed his face. “I… I had hoped to find my mother, actually. I never found out what happened to her, only that she left the estate after my birth. Not that I blame her, considering how my father feels about my presence, but…” He shrugged. “Clearly, I did not come by my powers through House Vescovi, but perhaps I can find more answers from her.”

“That makes sense. No doubt there are many questions that only she might have the knowledge to answer. I understand completely. But…”

Dark eyes flashed up to meet hers, warm and familiar, and she barely resisted the urge to reach for him. “But, will you return, someday?”

For what seemed like a lifetime, he said nothing, his eyes serious, and she held her breath until he sighed, long and sibilant. “I do not know. But if my Queen commands it, then… yes. Someday.”

“She does.” She drew a deep breath, straightening and giving him her most proper smile. “Well, in that case, I look forward to meeting your replacement, and I wish you all of the best in your investigation. We shall, all of us, look forward to your return.”

“As do I.” She inclined her head in dismissal as he bowed again, deep and formal, though before he turned away, he met her gaze once more. “And Caterina? Thank you.”

In the silence, she watched him retreat, steps quick and assured through the halls that he knew much better than she did, even after a month of living within the castle, before letting out a shaky breath she did not know she had been holding. “No, Kayden. Thank you.”

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“You care for him. The Crown Shield, I mean.”

In the privacy of their chambers, away from prying ears, she turned to King Fabian. Her new husband stood in the doorway, bright blue eyes steady as he watched her, clear and sympathetic and utterly lacking in disapproval.

“How…?”

He laughed, stepping nearer. “It is not exactly a difficult conclusion to draw. I rather suspected it from the moment he accompanied you to find me. Of course, it is not until more recently that I might call it confirmed.” When she gave him a questioning look, he grinned, cheerful and boyish. “Now, I mean. He seems a good man—must be, since you and Lord Hunter have such faith in him—and from all I’ve heard, he is an excellent Crown Shield.”

“Was.” It was his turn to raise an eyebrow, and she smiled, carefully holding her hands still before she could fidget. “He has decided to pass his position on to another.”

“Oh? Is there any particular reason for it? If he is afraid of incurring my wrath, tell him that I harbor no ill-will towards him with regards to your relationship. Or perhaps I can tell him myself, if that would be more reassuring.”

She shook her head. “It is not that. I have no intentions of betraying the oath we made to each other and Cordonia, regardless. I fear that my pursuing anything would risk instability to the kingdom. Particularly with my reputation as it already is.”

“And his being previously accused of the murder of Queen Kendra certainly cannot help matters.”

“Precisely. I am afraid it is only your sterling reputation that has kept the kingdom in check, and will have to continue to do so.” When he laughed, she grinned, her heart lightening, ever so slightly. “At any rate, our former Crown Shield has elected to retire and pursue his own interests.”

“I am truly sorry that you two have been put into this situation.”

“But you certainly chose this direction for yourself and would have done so again were an entire kingdom’s peace not on the line?” She laughed, shaking her head. “No, we all did what we had to do. You have brought the peace that Cordonia needed, and I shall do my utmost to maintain it, just as Kayden will. Besides, there are worse fates than being married to a friend. At least among the nobility, marriage is often more a tool for political gain than a joining of like minds and hearts.”

When she glanced up, it was to find Fabian making a face, though to his credit, it was more mild than she rather suspected he felt, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. “That was lesson number two. Lesson number three is that there are always eyes on you. I do not think members of the court would take kindly to being looked at as though you ate a particularly sour apple.” She paused, letting a look of contemplation cross her face, though it did nothing to quell her amusement. “Or perhaps contemplating Cyrus’ endless requests for visitations?”

When his expression turned even more horrified, her laughter morphed into a most unladylike cackle, though judging by his own amused expression, he hardly seemed to mind, crossed arms notwithstanding.

“Dare I ask what lesson number one was, then?”

“Oh, I thought I already told you. Whenever you are facing any nerves, simply imagine the entire court in their smallclothes.”

That time, it was not she who doubled over in laughter, fairly leaning on the bed to maintain any semblance of remaining upright. She grinned, sitting beside him and watching as the tension left his shoulders for what was likely the first time since he had awoken that morning.

After a moment, he finally sobered, though he was still chortling as he turned back to face her. “I should hope that the other nobles are not aware of your… irreverence.”

“I expect I would be run out of the country should they find out. Or, I suppose, in some cases, never hear the end of it.”

“Perhaps, but I assure you that it is something the people might like to know. In fact, had they known, they might have been less likely to march against you.”

“Well, I shall keep that in mind in case I manage to incur the ire of our kingdom once more, then. I doubt there will be a second chance to maintain the people’s trust in me through a political match.”

He chuckled but his eyes were serious. “Perhaps not but they would also be fools to mistrust you without cause in light of all you have sacrificed for them.”

“And you. You did not ask for the crown. You were an artist, open and spirited, free to pursue your own wishes, to love whomever. And now you have allied yourself to me, stepping into the role placed upon you by a bloodline you knew nothing about until you took a stranger at her word.”

“I took the Queen at her word, a far safer leap of trust.”

She waved her hand airily. “Details, my king. But, to speak plainly, you have wed yourself to me, sacrificing any choice you may have had in the matter, and while you are free to have whatever relations you wish, the fact remains that it can only ever be in private. I have no doubt that this is not what you had anticipated for yourself and I apologize for that.”

“There is no need. I made the offer of marriage knowing what it would entail, and like you, I have no intention of doing anything which might threaten what we have given for it. Besides, it is as you say. I would either have to marry you or someone else for political gain. At least this way I can be sure of having an ally and friend.”

She smiled. “Partners, then.”

He took her outstretched hand, managing to keep a solemn expression just long enough to give it a solid shake before a wry grin curled his mouth. “I don’t know if a week ago, I would ever have dreamed of making a vow between a husband and wife like such.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Would you prefer we seal it with a kiss, then?”

When he laughed again, shaking his head, she grinned, throwing herself back against the bed with a sigh. Oh, he was not wrong in that she still cared for Kayden fiercely and the thought of building a life without him, after so many daydreams of what they would do together, stung, but she did what she had to do.

And if Cordonia could have peace, if her life with Fabian could have the friendship and laughter of the moment, then perhaps it would be worth it in the end.

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When the people of Cordonia speak of King Fabian, it is with reverence and respect. Raised among commoners, having studied and pursued art as a career, unaware of his heritage until his kingdom was in peril, the People’s King delivered harmony to a land torn by strife and conflict since the death of Queen Kendra, brought about peace and prosperity, social changes and moves towards equality that ushered Cordonia into a new age. While scholars debate the details, it is held by many Cordonians that his rule still holds the record as the one plagued by the fewest number of internal conflicts and infighting, that the mourning bells tolled for a full week following his eventual death, and that the respect the Cordonian crown still holds amongst her people is in no small part due to his enduring legacy.

Fewer scholars and citizens alike mention his wife and queen, and fewer still discuss her role in Cordonian history beyond the scandal that suffused her early reputation. Following her scant month as sole queen, won through the vote at one of the most chaotic summits in recorded history and plagued by the threat of civil war throughout, Queen Caterina, once of House Aster, faded into the background soon after becoming co-ruler with her husband. Even the most vicious of rumors surrounding her dissipated in time, and as her husband’s reign continued, her role became that of a supporter, speaking on his behalf and caring for their children, turning from usurper queen to the non-threatening positions of dutiful wife and doting mother.

Those who have devoted true effort towards understanding her, however… The stories they tell are far different. While King Fabian carried out the decisions that brought support and benefits to the common people, he was not alone in their inception or planning. It was she who helped bring about peace with neighboring countries, whose quiet manners but strong will granted her husband the stability and courage to move forward with his goals. It was she who fielded questions and attention those days he needed to step back, to paint or wander the country, who kept his gentleness and spirit alive. It was she who raised their children to believe in stability and equality and above else, peace.

Those who know speak of Queen Caterina as a woman of principle and courage, of patience and understanding. A selfless hero who gave and sacrificed whatever was required, for her king and her country.

[glasyasbutch]

Time! Line! Asks! Roona: 2! Craving: 5! I make you be nice to Craving asmr!!! Ezra: 7! Gildy: 14! Tov: 8! Did I just go through your active characters page! Yes!!!! Go nuts king!!!

hee hee hoo hoo!!!!!!!!!! thank u rebekah!!!! (also thanks for the reminder to add gent and take off gildy from my active characters nnsfsdkl)

2. the timeline in which they never met who would become the most influential or important person in their life, or that person was taken from them before they were capable of forming memories.

Now this is an interesting one for roona, because they genuinely don’t have a single person in their life that i consider to be hugely influential. like, i guess at the moment you could say sepia man, for trapping her in black and white hell, or vinny, for talking her into taking that job.

but honestly, roona doesn’t form long-term attachments, and that’s not a sad thing for her! she enjoys the constant change, and she has plenty of good memories and people she considers friends, but she just doesn’t hang around any of them long enough to experience a lot of change that wouldn’t have otherwise occurred had she not been trying with that exact purpose.

so, in some ways, this timeline is pretty much identical to the one they’re in now. they float around from place to place without much regard for what they’re going to and what they’re leaving behind outside of following the trail of interest they’re currently on.

in other ways, removing any one person from their life would disrupt the timeline just as much as anyone else, because every single place she’s been and person she’s met has tweaked her path in life just a little bit. roona functions like a domino snake, falling moment to moment to moment and not able to see ahead because theres the thing thats happening right now in the way, but if you turn one domino even a little, you might miss the next one entirely and stop the trail right then, or skip to another area. so picking any random person to remove from her life very well could mean that alternate universe roona is still on the material plane, across the country from where they and vinny last were, a college of whispers bard multiclassed with rogue posing as a cleric just to get better gossip.

roona lives her life unchanged, yet utterly changed, and always random.

5. the timeline in which they continue on from the current point in their life to the best happy ending within their reach, where nothing that has happened so far is negated, but the happy things start piling up

craving’s backed herself so far into a corner that there’s no happy ending for her without some strife first. so we’ll get that out of the way.

the party finds out who her patron is. maybe judhas lets it slip, maybe she gets drunk again and spills it to val in a heart to heart about their devil cult trauma, maybe the morning lord sends manic and message and she can’t bear to lie to him when he’s sitting right next to her and asking so sincerely what she did to try and let him walk the high road.

and she cries. she cries, and she screams, and she pushes people away, and she retreats beneath her own skin and tries to hide because she knows this is her fault but she cannot admit she fucked up because she has to believe in what she’s doing if she’s going to see it through.

but someone snaps her out of it. someone gives her an exit. someone (or several someones) vow to stand by her side without judgement and get her out of this mess no matter the cost because they don’t believe that she’s as hopelessly damned as the rest of the world.

they break out of barovia first and foremost. they stab that vampire bitch right through the heart.

she gets to tell judhas to fuck the hell off, and god does it feel good.

then, she discovers the location of sirris’ true soul, that it is not in hell, and she has no reason to have her pact anymore, and she finds a way to break it, even against the queen of loopholes.

she runs into stella again, a free woman, and its been so damn long since they saw each other. they both had their trauma turned on them to manipulate them into subversion and they both are tearing that control apart from the inside. so they clean each others wounds and kiss each other’s bruises and craving finally says “i love you” because god damn it, she does, and she knows stella already knew, but her star deserves to hear it.

manic has a happy ending too, because he and craving are too close for her to have one without him. he sticks with the morninglord, i think. this god seems good for him, even if he won’t really be your typical preacher-type paladin. he probably finds love again in val. if not romance, at the very least family. at least one of her and manic gets a cat again.

craving lives her life supported, wanted, and free.

7. the timeline in which they never experience the loss that taught them something important

this is actually pretty similar to #1 that morgan gave me for him (timeline for ideal life) but i’ll give a quick thing.

the loss was cate’s death, and it taught him that the world is ultimately uncontrollable, even by the gods. at first it made him angry, that he was lied to, and he didn’t want to trust in anyone for fear that he’d be let down. he took five years to start calming down, and then it began to transfer into making him overly kind, because if all he can control in this world is himself, he wants that part to be as welcoming as possible.

so, in a world where cate doesn’t die, he never becomes disillusioned and reillusioned with the idea of devotion. he simply grows in his trust of tamara. his power increases, he becomes a staple of the temple, he lives a happy life inside its battered walls.

i would posit that he might actually be less compassionate in this timeline. not that he’s mean, he’s a very dedicated paladin of a mercy goddess. but, ultimately, he believes that mercy is a given in the world. he believes in tamara’s ability to force it to occur, and that he is simply a conduit. so he makes less effort to cultivate it himself. kindness is no longer a conscious choice that he has to make, and perhaps, that means it falls slightly more to the wayside.

ezra lives his life secure, confident, and devout.

14. the timeline in which they take a chance they didn’t in canon

i’m gonna do a real throwback here, to gildy’s first campaign that lasted ... less than 10 sessions. I think it was a total of like 6. 

in our second session, we met this old man who lived in the middle of nowhere and everyone thought he was super weird because he would go out in the mornings and sweep dust off his lawn and carry it inside. gildy asked him what he was doing and he revealed that this was actually ash, floating over on the wind from a near-ish-by volcano with a connection to the fire plane. he mixed the ash in with clay to create enchanted pottery.

now, playing an elderly 3d artist, i really wanted to flirt with this other elderly 3d artist, but the dm said no because we’d never come back to this town. but, in the timeline where gildy couldve done whatever the fuck she wanted because she wasn’t constricted by a meta-plot, she would’ve tried really hard to get to know this guy!

she would’ve asked to learn some pottery, her hands still work just fine even though her knees don’t always. she’s used to shaping metal, which fights back. she’d love to learn to shape clay, which almost moves before you do. (she might have tried to do the ghost pottery scene with this dude. she knows what’s up). 

there was a nice smithy in town too, made all kinds of weapons and armor. she would’ve taken up apprenticeship with them and hopefully become one of their artisans. and i think she would’ve had a wonderful time there! a new city, with new people, a new love of her life, all the creation she could ask for at her fingertips, a life that hasn’t grown stagnant even after 270 years. there’s also, if i remember right, a mountain nearby. she does get a little homesick from time to time, the view helps. 

gildy lives her life reimagined, shared, and satisfied.

8. the timeline in which they gain everything they want, except for the thing they wanted most

i think this is actually the timeline he’s in right now!!!!!! he wants more than anything to go back home and be forgiven. i don’t think that’ll happen. even if he does reconcile with rax eventually, he’ll have been gone too long for the clan to feel like home in the same way, and i don’t think either rax or him will ever be able to forget what happened, just build a new relationship around it.

but, he has friends now, which he never thought he would. and a house. with a business under it! what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he’s doing good for the city. he’s part of an order dedicated to righteousness and law. he’s an upstanding citizen!

and. of course. he has savra. he has the potential for unconditional love, for family, for future, everything he thought he’d get back from rax one day, but probably won’t. he’ll fall in love with her before he even knows it, (he’s already started), and when he finally realizes, he’ll feel more okay with it than he ever thought he would be, because she knows what its like to feel shame and she knows how to grow past it. 

he’ll be her good man, and a good father eventually, and he won’t even need to go back home anymore (even though he’ll want to, he’ll always feel a bit of guilt that the half-dragon babies only know their human grandparents, and he’ll miss the summer festival food because you just can’t get the right spices in waterdeep even if he and savra try to cook the meals themselves, and he’ll miss the way his brother punches his arm when he laughs because savra never does that, and -). but he’ll have a home in ways he never thought a home could be, but he likes them, and he’s happy, truly, even with the shadows that still curl around the corner of his heart. 

tov lives his life long, useful, and good.

[skrivarmelodi]

Too young and yet so old - Gladnis one-shot

It was @hanatsuki89 art of Gladio, Ignis, Noctis and Iris, curled up together in a blanket, which inspired me to write this. So, this is for you, Elena.

Link to the pic!

Ship: Gladnis

Rating: T

Words: 1990~

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Gladio is the best brother, and Ignis supports him.

Summary: Ignis gets an alarming text from Noctis and finds a crying Iris and a lost Prince. He does his best to calm them both down and waits for Gladio to return because his sister needs him

Also on AO3

‘I need your help, NOW!’ was the text Ignis had received from Noctis, and he was on full alarm.

Okay, he knew it was most likely something minor – like Noctis not able to find his favorite socks – but Ignis still couldn't help himself to feel alarmed because the Prince, when he was younger, gave him several heart attacks by disappearing following a cat or because he thought it was funny to leave the Citadel on his own to get some ice cream.

He couldn't count the times he looked for the Prince nor the times he reminded Noctis to text him if he needed something or wanted to go out. Noctis then tried his best to inform Ignis about most of the things he did but, gradually, Ignis learned to give him some sort of freedom to decide for himself. It was necessary otherwise the Prince would never become independent – and Gladio would call him out for spoiling Noctis.

So when Ignis asked where he was and the reply said 'At Gladio's' he didn't feel as alarmed anymore, but he was already imagining things like Noctis breaking his leg during practice or Gladio being too harsh with him or that, maybe, he was hiding from the shield because he didn't want to spare. Though, when Ignis arrived at the front door to the Amicitia house, he heard someone crying, literally wailing, and he could tell, right away, that it wasn't Noctis.

He knocked against the door and was greeted by Noctis himself, looking lost and helpless while the crying continued.

“What's wrong?” Ignis asked slightly breathless and checked the Prince's appearance from head to toe just to be sure he was fine.

“It's Iris,” Noctis said and guided Ignis to her room where she was sitting on her bed, clutching a stuffed Mogry as if she was scared someone might take it away from her.

“Ignis!!” she wailed when she noticed him and jumped off her bed to fall right into his arms. He held the little girl as she cried against his shoulder and tried to calm her down by running soothing circles over her back, just like he used to do for Noctis when he was crying.

“It's alright, Iris,” Ignis tried and looked back at Noctis when her crying turned into a chain of sobbing sounds. He knew Clarus was out of town together with the King, but he wondered where Gladio was, since it was pretty late.

“What happened?”

Noctis rubbed the back of his head, something he did when he felt embarrassed or lost, and though he was fourteen, he looked so much younger when he said: “We were... talking about Christmas and then about... our mothers.”

Ignis didn't need to hear more than that to understand why Iris was crying. She was still young and Gladio had told him how hard Christmas was for her. She was a little girl with only a brother and her father who both – just like everyone else – became especially busy right before Christmas. Gladio knew that, that's why Ignis was so surprised not to see him with them, since he had made it his mission to be with his sister whenever his father would leave so she wouldn't feel alone.

“Where's Gladio?” Ignis asked.

“He went to get us some pizza to eat while we watch a movie. He should be back any minute but the moment he left she started crying and I didn't know what to do,” Noctis said as if it was painful.

Ignis had no doubt that it was painful for him because the Prince himself used to cry a lot when they talked about his mother or when his father left because of duty.

“At least she calmed down a bit, right?”

Ignis looked back at the girl who was clutching the Mogry but leaning against Ignis with her whole weight. She calmed down indeed but he knew he wasn't the person she was aching for nor the person who could help her fall asleep. It was her dear brother who did everything for his sister so she would never cry nor be unhappy.

“Come on. We'll go to the living room and wait for Gladio, alright?” Ignis said slowly as he pulled back so he could smile at Iris and look into her eyes. It was all wet and snotty and her brown eyes were so big and watery that he felt terribly sorry for her. Yet she nodded and he lifted her up to carry her out of her room and took Noctis hand to drag him with them. He could tell that Noctis didn't feel much different from Iris, but he was better at hiding it.

They sat down and Ignis reached out for the tissues on the table to clean her face. Then he leaned back and held her close against his chest as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Iris was still sobbing but they knew each other well enough by now that she could find some sort of comfort in his arms.

Noctis tried to help by talking about Chocobros and Mogrys with a rare smile on his face in order to cheer her up. Ignis did the same, sharing facts he knew and distracting them both from the forbidden ‘mother' topic.

They sat like that for almost ten minutes before Gladio entered the house, announcing his return by saying: “Sorry for being late, but the line was-”

“Gladdy!” Iris cried out and jumped off Ignis to run to her brother.

Ignis didn't mind because he understood that she had a deep bond with her brother and trusted him more than anyone. Gladio managed to place the packed pizza on the table nearby before he caught his sister, clearly alarmed when she started crying again. But then his face changed as if he remembered, as if he knew why she was crying.

“It's alright, Iris. I'm here now,” he said and squeezed her close before his eyes looked over to where Noctis and Ignis sat. He held Iris with one arm and carried the pizza with the other, Ignis making himself useful by taking the pizza from his secret boyfriend and putting it on the table.

“You okay, Noct?” he asked, knowing that Iris wasn't the only one having a hard time right before Christmas. His free hand ran through Noctis hair who sweated it away and mumbled a 'yeah, yeah, stop that' and then he walked around the couch to sit down next to Ignis.

“Thanks for coming,” Gladio said with a small smile and Ignis almost blushed but managed not to when he remembered where they were and what the situation was.

Ignis nodded and smiled back while watching how Gladio managed to calm his sister down by simply holding her and saying nothing special. All he did was reassure her that he was here and that she wasn't alone and it was all Iris needed to calm down. It was, at the same time, a lovely and fascinating view, and Ignis had always loved that side of Gladio, his unconditional love for his sister and all the things he did for her. Like dressing up, having tea parties with her invisible friends, letting her do his hair... Ignis saw it all and it warmed up his heart whenever he saw them together.

“How does a movie and pizza sound now?” Gladio asked her after a while and Iris nodded, wiping the last remaining tears off her face.

“Can you two watch with us?” Iris asked hesitantly and looked at Ignis and Noctis.

The Prince agreed – Noctis never said no to pizza no matter the situation – and Ignis looked up to Gladio as if to make sure he wanted that too. Of course he would, he always wanted to have Ignis around and, even in this private moment he didn't push Ignis away but welcomed him. Gladio said that all through his eyes, with a warm shine and a smile that he only showed Ignis.

So the adviser agreed, making the girl smile more, and watched her reaching out for a huge blanket.

“It's like a full family, right? Gladdy?” Iris asked and Gladio nodded as he handed one end of the blanket to Noctis so they could wrap it around the four of them.

“Well, it would be weird if I were your dad... and I'm not sure if Noct is ready to be a brother and accept all the duties that come with being the older brother with a younger sister. But,” Ignis knew where this was going and he was already glaring at Gladio for the next words: “Ignis certainly fulfills the duties of a mother.”

Noctis snorted and Gladio grinned while Iris giggled as she said: “Ignis can't be a mother. He's a guy.”

“But guys can be mom's too,” Gladio said. “It's not about if someone is a boy or a girl, but about the love we have for the people around us.” His last words were accompanied by a bop on Iris nose, which made her genuinely laugh.

“I guess you're right,” she agreed.

Gladio nodded, as Noctis continued giggling and Ignis sighed but didn't say anything. They agreed to watch a movie – it was Iris’ choice – and eat pizza.

At some point Iris fell asleep and Noctis did the same, leaning his body against Ignis', which he used to do a lot before he became a teenager and considered it rather embarrassing. Though, Ignis didn't mind and made sure that Noctis was comfortable. He needed comfort because he, just like Iris, was painfully reminded of the absence of his blood related family today.

A smile spread over his lips to the soft snoring sounds of the two youngsters and then he felt lips against his temple.

Even though their relationship was still a secret, Ignis didn't glare or reminded Gladio of the situation. The others were sleeping and Gladio would never get too close if he wasn't certain himself that no one would notice anything.

“Thank you for being here when I couldn't,” Gladio whispered gratefully and Ignis turned his head to be met by a warm, soft smile from his boyfriend.

“As you said, I'm a good mum substitute,” he couldn't hold this remark back.

“What? Are you mad I said that? I wasn't making fun of you, I was appreciating your motherly dedication towards Noct and Iris. You held her just the way you used to hold Noct, and it makes me happy to see how you care about her.”

“Of course I care. And it's no big deal. They are both young and need us grown ups, even if they say they don't,” Ignis said.

“Yeah. Well, to be honest, I wouldn't mind being younger if it meant I could switch places with Noctis now. Makes me kinda jealous,” Gladio joked and Ignis chuckled. His boyfriend may have been a year older and bigger, but in his mind he could still come up with childish thoughts.

“Well, I only know one person who's allowed to share a bed with me until morning.”

“And that person is me,” Gladio said all proud and Ignis nodded before he leaned his head back a bit, asking for something and Gladio understood. Ignis stretched his neck so much that it almost became painful but he wanted to be kissed and Gladio granted him that unspoken wish.

“You should get some rest too,” Gladio whispered.

But it wasn't just Ignis who fell asleep as he leaned against the shield.

The four of them were soon snoring, glued together and warmed up by the blanket and their body heat, as if they were a family.

[change-the-rules]

what I found was unbelievable but I believe it's true (it did all the things love does that's how I knew it was)

Director Sanvers

This was the result of me seeing this post, started as a combination of the prompts:

‘A sleepy good morning kiss that ends up with a palm in the face and a muttered, “brush your damn teeth first.” and A sleepy good morning kiss that ends up with a palm in the face and a muttered, “I will push you off the fucking bed if you don’t let me sleep.” but a few others snuck in too.

ft: trans!Maggie, nb!Alex, and genderfluid!Lucy

warning for brief mention of past transphobia. 

The last few years had been— Maggie didn’t want to say kind exactly— that seemed disingenuous to much of the struggle and the sacrifice they’d all been through.

It had taken nearly two years to get National City back into fully working order after the Daxamite invasion. And that was with Supergirl pulling double time on the recovery efforts after she found out how Maggie had been spending nearly all of her off duty hours, helping out the neighborhoods— read the poorer and predominantly non-white communities who were suffering without the immediate aid going to the more affluent areas.  

And it wasn’t like crime, alien or human just paused during that time leaving the NCPD and the DEO busy with the daily grind as well.

Add in a near apocalypse or two, a historic birth marking the first green and white Martian child, three more crashed pods, one of which was crashing for a second time to no one’s amusement and the drama that followed in its wake.

An almost wedding and an actual commitment ceremony, the ultimate fall of CADMUS that brought about the death of Alex’s father at the expense of rescuing Kara’s— in a surprise twist captured but not dead aunt, the second Danvers sister’s bi-panic, a narrowly avoided invasion from an alternate universe.

Alex and Lucy both coming to terms with their respective gender identities and the adjustments to their relationship it brought which tangentially led to Maggie becoming quite close with Vasquez’s wife Erin and being named guidemother to their first kid.

Breakups and promotions and retirements and surprising couplings and Life made it a hell of a four years that Maggie ultimately wouldn’t trade for anything.

At least the last pod brought the only pleasant surprise to emerge from one in the form of Krypto, who was pretty amazing in Maggie’s opinion.

Granted Maggie had such a soft spot for dogs that it wasn't saying much even with the superpowers. It did help that he and Gertrude became fast friends.

So, incredible maybe or awe-inspiring were apt descriptors for the time that had passed. 

Of course, Maggie would be the first to admit she was probably a bit biased. 

Still, there wasn’t anything she would change save for a few calls that came closer than Maggie cared to consider even now well after her spouses or her family were out of the woods.

Family.

Maggie honestly didn’t think she’d ever have one of those again. Not after being thrown out at fourteen or the abuse she suffered long before it came to that at the hands of people she was told were doing it because they loved ‘him’.

Not when she finally escaped her small town only to find just as many people, in a community who should understand, that would turn their backs on her as well.

After people who would sleep with her but wouldn’t claim her in the light of day, too many girls who wouldn’t go out with her at all.

Eventually, Maggie learned how to best avoid those types though it was far foolproof (if being a fool was expecting basic human decency no questions asked Maggie would lay claim to the title, she tried not to expect much of anything then) She started dating aliens too, most of them coming from societies not mired in Earth’s hang-ups with gender or sexuality.

The problem was human or alien, the fourth or so set of hastily canceled plans because of work typically spelled out the end of any fledgling relationship.

Maggie had all but given hope of finding some happily ever after ending.

She had work and she had volunteering at the LGBTQ youth center. She had Adrian who she loved like her own and his seemingly endless strays that she was always happy to help with whether they needed an ear or an example, a home cooked meal or her ties with the justice system.

And that was enough.

It had to be.

But now? Now Maggie had two amazing partners and the kind of unconditional love she craved her whole life.  

She remembers watching her grandparents as a child enamored with the way her vovó would look at her vovô like he had the secrets of the universe in his eyes.

And as she got older she saw not only that tangible love that hadn’t faded at all but also but how it never prevented her vovó from calling him on his shit.

She saw how their love never wavered and that communication only made their relationship stronger. Which led Maggie to wonder what the hell had happened to her own father.

The painful memories of that life had long ago scabbed over but she had finally begun to heal with the support from her newfound family.

Being loved by Alex and Lucy was everything she ever dreamed and more.

It also meant winding up with two sisters, two brothers, a few in- laws, a space dad, a mom, an aunt (though Alex would would always deny that particular moniker, Maggie and Lucy would only tease them sometimes considering the circumstances but were unable to fully resist knowing the grumbling was due to the crush Alex had on Astra when the general first showed up well before Alex recognized it for what it was) or two aunts-ish, it was beyond surreal to think of Cat Grant as aunt even after the media mogul shocked everyone by getting together with Astra.

Maggie did readily accept Carter as her nephew however, he and Adrian got on like a house on fire and Maggie who spent so many years in isolating loneliness could scarcely believe how full her life had become.

These thoughts buzzed pleasantly in her chest as Maggie stretched in the warm patch of sunlight that was angled so it just hit the middle of the bed where she had fallen asleep last night. She could feel Lucy snuggled up against her back and hear Alex’s heartbeat from where her head had gravitated to their chest.  

She nuzzled her head closer placing a lazy kiss above their heart. Slowly waking up as she trailed languid kisses up their neck. Alex stirred slightly, a smile stretching across their face as they leaned into the contact eyes still closed.

Their lips meet in a sweet sleepy kiss and Maggie marvels at how right it still feels every time.

She feels the nose scrunch before she feels Alex’s palm pushing at her face, a muttered, “Brush your damn teeth first,” follows and Maggie can't help the full blown chuckle that shakes her shoulders and dislodges Lucy who grumbles while rolling over but doesn't wake up.

Maggie moves with her, pausing only to stick her tongue out at Alex who simply rolls their eyes at the gesture which Maggie reads as ‘good, subject Lucy to your morning breath while I go brush my teeth then.’ 

She ends up in a mirrored position with her head now on Lucy's chest instead of Alex's.

As soon as the two of them settle, Alex shifts. Awake now, they drop a kiss on Maggie's head and then Lucy's as they rise from their side of the bed to pad towards the bathroom.

Maggie lays there listening to the sounds of Lucy's heartbeat and Alex puttering around the bathroom. It's rare all three of them have a day off together and Maggie is content to laze in bed for a while basking in the novel illusion of zero responsibility.

Eventually, Maggie props herself up on one on one arm reaching out to tuck some hair behind Lucy’s ear.

She places a kiss on Lucy's forehead, then her nose and cheek. She leans in breath just ghosting Lucy's lips and suddenly Maggie finds herself on the receiving end of reflexes honed over years of precision training, Lucy's hand locks securely around the back of Maggie's neck bringing her in for a bruising kiss.

Maggie shifts slightly her body moving to mold into Lucy's but before she can follow through on the action there's a palm pushing against her forehead and then she's suddenly flat on her back staring up at the ceiling while Lucy growls out, “I will push you off the fucking bed if you don’t let me sleep.”

Maggie weighs her options for all of half a second before darting back up with a grin to peck Lucy on the lips, laughing even as she crashes to the floor.

She's still chuckling as she picks herself up and makes her way to the kitchen. 

Maggie has a pot of coffee brewing and is in the process of chopping up vegetables for omelets when she hears the door open and other tell-tale signs that Alex is back from their run.

Sure enough seconds later a sweaty Alex wraps their arms around Maggie from behind.

“Get off me until you shower, Danvers.” Maggie all but whines. Pulling the dish towel off her shoulder and using it to swat at Alex as they steal vegetables from the cutting board, ignoring Alex’s pout.

“I thought you liked it when I got all sweaty.” Maggie makes a show of rolling her eyes even though she knows that Alex knows what that tone of voice does to her.

“No, I like watching you work out and I like making you sweat. You coming back from a run and sweating all over our breakfast I could do without.” Maggie punctuates her statement by pointing her knife in Alex’s general direction.

Alex puts their hands up in mock surrender, sighing dramatically, “Alright shower it is…...you could always join me…” Alex says and Maggie doesn’t know where she finds the resolve against that lit.

“Breakfast first, Romeo.” She manages without her own voice betraying her as she turns her focus back to the skillet.

This time Alex’s sigh is a real one and Maggie immediately turns back around to snag their hand. She pulls Alex into a kiss mindful of the hot metal behind her, “We can get you all sweaty again after we eat— real food.” She adds before Alex can make a smart ass comment.

Too much time around Lucy, Maggie would tell anyone who would listen as if all three of them hadn’t entered the relationship fully fluent in sarcasm.  

Alex concedes with one last lingering kiss that warms parts of Maggie that cannot be blamed on the heat from the stove.

Maggie has two omelets plated, a third in one pan and another frying pan slowly heating oil when Alex emerges from the bedroom in their binder and a half-buttoned flannel.

Just the flannel.

“Luce still isn’t up yet?” Alex asks.

“You were the one just in there,” Maggie responds without looking away from the oil that’s just started sizzling.

Alex lightly shoves her shoulder, “ I meant why isn’t Luce up yet?”

Maggie still doesn’t look up as she starts frying bacon, “It’s our day off babe, not all of us need to start it before the sun’s fully up with a run like you besides wait for it in three, two, one…”

“Bacon.” Maggie laughs as Lucy appears in the door frame squinting at the sun like it just called her lieutenant.

Maggie hands over a cup of coffee spinning Lucy around and into Alex’s arms before she can try and pluck a piece of half-cooked bacon directly out of the scalding hot oil.

Lucy grumbles incoherently into said coffee as Alex snorts, “All those years in the army shouldn’t you be a morning person?” Alex teases.

Lucy glares at Alex. “I had to be up at the crack ass of dawn every day, I didn’t have to enjoy it.”

“So I shouldn’t have paid Josie’s kid down the hall to start playing reveille in the mornings?” Maggie chimes in and Lucy switches her glare to the back of Maggie’s head.

As Alex notices the coffee start to kick in they ask, “Lucy today?”

The cup clinks onto the counter and Alex notices the pause and the slightly unfocused stare. It only lasts a second or two before Lucy mhmm’s in the affirmative.

So Alex smiles at their wife who doesn’t notice because Maggie has dropped some bacon on the plate in front of her.

Alex themself barely notices their own plate as Maggie turns off the flame to join them both with her own breakfast. Alex thinks not for the first time that the legal system can go screw itself because their wives are amazing.

Maggie looks up from her plate catching Alex’s lovesick grin, “Oh my god Danvers, food.”Maggie orders as if she hadn’t been half watching her partners in the reflection of the oven door the entire time she finished cooking.

Lucy mumbles something that sounds like, “ Seriously. quit looking at us like Bambi and eat your damn breakfast would you.” but it’s hard to tell around the mouthful of bacon.

Alex doesn’t stop grinning but they do finally pick up a fork. There isn’t much talking as everyone’s attention is finally turned to eating but when their plates are empty Maggie’s head tilts, attention grabbed by Alex’s shirt.

They puff out their chest a little about to make comment along the lines of ‘see something you like?’

 Maggie beats them to it.

Just not in the way Alex was angling for.

“Is that my flannel?” Maggie asks unable to tell with the cuffed up sleeves masking their actual length.

Alex huffs a little, “Does it even matter anymore?”

“Well, no.” Maggie responds confused by the slight edge in Alex’s voice.

They stand up and start collecting the dishes to bring to the sink while Maggie and Lucy look on.

“Alex?” Maggie would swear up and down her voice did not just crack.

“Yes?” Alex questions right back without bothering to turn around.

“You aren’t wearing pants.” Lucy says dryly even as her eyes give her desire away.

“Took you long enough to notice.”

Maggie and Lucy exchange a glance and stand at the same time moving seamlessly over to where Alex is standing by the sink. Maggie presses herself into Alex’s back as Lucy moves to take the dish Alex is washing out of their hands.

“It’s our day off, the dishes will still be there tomorrow.” Lucy tempts. Alex gets lost in green eyes as Maggie presses kisses up the back of their neck. She nips at Alex’s ear, “You know you worked out this morning but we haven’t.”

Alex swallows hard as Maggie and Lucy each take a hand, lacing their fingers together before tugging Alex towards the bedroom.

Vasquez makes them promise a weekend of babysitting for covering for them when they need the next day to recoup from their day off.

I realized I can’t think of Maggie having a found family without Adrian being a part of it, He’s the creation of @queercapwriting I just borrowed him for sec.

I might have failed in op's original intent with op's 'real domestic otp scenarios' but like I want this let me hold out hope mmm'kay

I wrote this while avoiding real life kicking my ass so I’m hoping it actually turned out all right...

[troyscbz894-blog]

Salmonella Poisoning in Dogs Cats and Humans

"My love and passion for animals - Can I tell you how it all drew back in the 1980's?

A darling Pomeranian pup was provided to me for my 30th birthday. I called him Tiamo. I wanted him to understand ""I enjoy you"" whenever I said his name despite the fact that it remained in Italian. He taught me how to love and love animals. Although I had actually embraced 2 felines a few years earlier, Tiamo was the 7 pound wonder that opened my heart.

I discovered what it implied to be accountable for a Pet; the ""parental"" duties it took to be a remarkable animal owner. The unconditional love I experienced was priceless. My heart grew larger and larger for pets, cats, all pets!

I began to discover animals on lots of levels. I even started to follow a vegetarian diet plan, which cause a vegan diet plan ... all because I couldn't consume animals because I gotten in touch with them in my heart. (** in the last few years I integrated more animal protein into my diet).

Sadly, I needed to assist Tiamo pass on when he was only 13 years of ages. That is on the younger side for a little dog. He had a collagen disease which jeopardized his cartilage; this made him age much faster than regular. His body began to 'offer'. It inspired me to pay attention to the health of mine and other people's animals. Especially what remained in the food they consumed. Animals require our pure attention. I learned all of us need to educate ourselves the very best we can.

I still had my 2 felines and another pom (that we adopted from a Pomeranian rescue). Time progressed and I observed I ended up being very associated with the animal world. Pet sitting, pet dog walking, rescuing, assisting animals find a home, finding out about much better foods, how corn and other fillers were taken into pet food, etc

. My caring and compassion is for all living things became more and more evident.

I have been working massage and bodywork, given that 1983. These (massage and animals) 2 enthusiasms seemed to weave in and out of each other. I discovered that people started to depend on me for ""answers"" or linking them and building neighborhood for animals. The Holistic care of people and animals appeared to enhance one another.

Communities began to see me as an animal activist in the early 2000's. This amazed me but I happily opened to it. I was simply doing what was in my heart for these sweet creatures that couldn't defend themselves. Teaching and working in my massage and bodywork practice, I likewise started to personally establish a mindful touch for animals, namely dogs and felines. I believed, if I can do it with human beings, why not the animals? Animals are actually less resistant and more open to the energy exchange.

Now in 2011, my partner and I have a Golden Retriever/Labrador mix who is 16 years old and a Chocolate Labrador who is 6 years of ages; both rescues. We adopted Moki, the Golden, when she was 7ish. That is a story for another time. Kona, the Chocolate Lab was about 6 weeks old when we rescued her from a household that could not keep her. We have given both of them an extremely loving PERMANENTLY house. They become part of our family and consider them in all that we do.

In the past year I decided it was time for me to go out worldwide more with Family pets, their individuals and the animal world. In 2008, my partner and I transferred to Southern California and required a support group for our canines and us. Remaining in Earthquake territory and not constantly being at home with them through out the day, we established a PET EMERGENCY SITUATION TEAM in our community, which has actually now expanded to the track of homes we live in Long Beach, Ca.

We are still building on this principle and it is working well.

All of us have un-foreseen crisis that emerge and it is smart to have a plan. Do you have a plan in order? I can not encourage you enough! We have a big plastic container with extra dog food, blankets, water, water bowls, deals with and meds.

Did you understand that CORN can impact your animals skin and coat? Does your canine have allergies, skin or coat concerns? Examine the ingredients. Try a NO-GRAIN food. It will more than likely disappear. My veterinarian had my 1 year old, Kona, on prescription antibiotics 3 different times in one year! I altered her food and the skin problem disappeared and her requirement for medications. Check your food and understand what ingredients remain in the item.

Pet dogs and cats are highly adverse corn and other grain filler in business foods. Lots of Family pet foods bulk it up with starchy fillers. A protein filler can be chicken beaks, chicken wings, bones, and so on. Not the real meat of the animal specified in the food. Liver is okay ... as long as they are organic. If you see ""animal absorb"" on the label as part of the components, beware. This can imply there are rendered ""unhealthy or dead"" animals in there. Dead of course, however meaning that they could be pets that have actually been euthanized at the shelter.

My love for animals deepens every day. I help individuals all over the country to feel more connected to their animals, educate about Family pets and even help with finding forever houses for them. A lady all the way throughout the continent, in CT, composed and asked me what she could do about individuals dropping undesirable felines at the their barn. I provided her some suggestions that inspired her and, yes, she found them houses. That is a fantastic sensation to be able to influence, help individuals and discover services."

[obscurelysevere]

if you could have sex with any celebrity right now, who would it be? Oh, boy... who to choose? :P

if you had to have sex with one of your best friends who would it be? @anoddityofsorts​, duh.

ever fallen in love with a friend? That’s how it always happens.

did you end up getting together or not? Yes. if yes, how did you end up together? if no, why not? My favorite is we were in a garage band together. have you ever been the other woman? Unfortunately.

we all have that one song that gets us pumped, what’s yours? Power of Love - Sailor Moon

have you ever been to prom? did you have a good time? 3x. They were all good. But my last one was my favorite.

don’t you just hate it when someone is a boring texter? Ugh.

ever let someone use you knowing they were using you? Yes.

how many people have you slept with (sexually not actually sleeping)? HAH. Hang on... at least 9.

how many of them were you actually in love with? 1

ever taken someone’s virginity? Pfft. Yes. 

would you ever want to be with a virgin? if no, why not? Noooope. I prefer experience.

favorite song lyrics? Just about all the lyrics in Sweet Silver Lining.

do you constantly find yourself internet stalking your ex? Uh, no.

if yes, how many times a day on average do you find yourself doing this? 0

so like, what’s your zodiac sign? So, like, I’m a Libra.

what’s your favorite item of clothing you have & why? Probably my ‘can’t adult today’ tank.

do you have anything to hide? Not really, no.

are you friends with any of your exes? Yes!

given the chance would you take any of your exes back? i wouldn’t say never...

do you have an addiction? to what? Yes. My pan meds. Peach juice. Santa Fe corn stix.

do you like being taken or single more & why? It depends... But right now, I’m kind of over the single life.

being loud & obnoxious is fun huh? Not... really...

do you feel like you’re sorta split personality? half & half? No.

do you act like your own gender or more like the opposite sex? I’m pretty damn feminine.

do you have more friends of the same sex or opposite? Same, I believe.

blunts, bowls or bongs? None of the above.

favorite sexual position? Ooh... I’ll leave that one to the imagination.

3 traits your dream partner would have? Loyalty, compassion, supportive.

do you really care what people think of you? A little bit, yes.

when you have a fight with your partner what do you do? Been so long since I’ve actually had a partner that I really don’t remember.

holiday closest to your birthday? Halloween! <3

who does the grocery shopping in your house? Me and my mom.

are your parents still together? if no, do you wish they were? Yes! <333

have any siblings you know of but don’t actually know personally? Nope.

greatest fear? Being alone.

something most people fear that you do not fear at all? I really can’t think of one.

don’t you hate getting nice & comfy & then having to pee? YESSSS.

what do you think of porn & the people who watch it? It’s a profession and it pleases people. Nothing wrong with that. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen any porn, though.

when your friends mention you in fb statuses & tweets do you get happy? Yes. ^-^

how much does it really take to get you mad? Not much. I have a hot button on standby.

would you date someone that your parents & friends didn’t approve of? No, thank you.

do you have any regrets? Yes. One.

are you always the one to apologize even if it’s not your fault? Pretty much.

ever lost friends because of a certain guy or girl? Not cause we were fighting over them.

ever used a legit sex toy before? Hell yeah!

ever questioned your sexuality? When I was younger... But I figured it out pretty quick.

ever thought you were pregnant? Y’know when you’re an ‘active’ teen... You’re always suspicious that you’re knocked up.

ever faked being pregnant? Good god, no!

favorite song at the moment? I really dig on ‘Shape of You’, and ‘Mercy’ and then there’s anything by BTS.

ever had a major surgery performed on you? A couple. But the worst was last August. They took my pancreas, my spleen, and part of my stomach.

do you actually like school lunches? I was never a fan.

do you think you’re a boring person? Absolutely not.

do you think you’re more or less a good person? Pretty good... on the outside.

which of the 7 deadly sins are you guilty of? All of the above.

do you believe that there’s actually good in EVERYONE? I want to... But I don’t know if I actually do.

what’s one thing that bothers you that probably wouldn’t bother most people? I feel like I’ve already been asked this, or some form of this.

do you believe in forever? I don’t know.

how many relationships have you been in? 3

do you ever want to get married? why or why not? Yes. Because I loved him. But I realized we had our romance shades on, and couldn’t see the reality of what we were doing.

do you believe in divorce? I mean, it’s a thing. But it’s a thing that I never want to be a part of.

is there a song you can’t listen to without thinking of someone? Duh.

how are you feeling right now? Pretty tired. I think the pain meds are finally kicking in.

do you like being called babe, baby, hunnie, etc? Yes.

have you ever thought etc was actually ect? Probably when I first learned it.

do you have any sort of ongoing health problem? HAH. The irony of this question is almost too painful.

ever lost someone close to you? Yes. :/

ever been hit by a motor vehicle? Not while I wasn’t in one.

can you play a musical instrument? Drums. But I don’t own any so it’s been a LOOOOONG time.

do you wish you did? I wish I had my own set again!

are you able to speak fluently in more than one language? Not fully fluently. I used to be really good, but then I just didn't use it as much, and it jut kind of fell to the wayside.

ever self harmed in any way? Yes. But I’m coming up on two years sober!

what is one word you just cannot pronounce? Really random, obscure herbs and such.

if you could look like any celebrity who would you look like? I loooove Margot Robbie, but there’s only one of me. So Imma stay this way!

ever wish you were of the opposite sex? For like a day, I think it could be fun.

don’t you just love fun people? Well, if they’re really fun, then yes!

is there that one person who you just CAN NOT seem to get over? Yes.

so what’s your dream job? Big cat husbandry and conservation.

someone you can’t see yourself being able to live without? My parents, absolutely.

best & most favorite video game (pc or console) ever? The PS3 my sister had for a little while before it was stolen.

would you ever tattoo someone’s name on you? No.

when people sing happy birthday to you do you feel awkward or happy? A little awkward.

favorite thing about being in a relationship? Unconditional support and love. Never having to be alone.

favorite thing about being single? I don’t have to worry about anybody but me. ever been hurt by someone you thought would never hurt you? Of course,

don’t you hate it when people in relationships act single? Yes.

so is your hair dyed? Yes! You don’t just grow teal hair, despite what anime may show you.

sex is really good isn’t it? ugh. Don’t remind me.

ever had a friends with benefits? Kind of. Didn’t last long.

do you like trains :)? Yeah, they’re fun!

do you think you have a pretty good singing voice? Not in the least. But I still love to sing!

how about dancing, are you a good dancer? Meh. I just let my body do what it wants.

is intelligence a turn on for you? HUUUUGE.

do you like to feel powerful & in charge? Yes, I do.

capricorns are the best aren’t they? My mom is one. And she’s the best. So...

are you afraid to stand out? Not at all. I quite love it.

[toldnews-blog]

New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/lifestyle/both-were-once-on-death-row-now-they-share-a-life-helping-others/

Both were once on death row, now they share a life helping others

Peter Pringle and Sunny Jacobs, who were both exonerated after serving time in prison, in Tampa.(Source: Christian Michael Delfino/The New York Times)

Vincent M Mallozzi

Nine years ago, Sunny Jacobs and Peter Pringle were living in a seaside cottage in a sleepy coastal region of Ireland, when a man from Detroit who had been accused of murder and rape, a man they had never met, arrived at their home. “He was a black man in his early 50s who had just spent 20 years in prison,” Jacobs said. “He was angry, which I will admit made me very nervous when he first arrived.”

Their troubled visitor, who had accepted an invitation extended by the couple, had been wrongfully convicted of crimes, which resulted in two decades of his life wasted behind bars.

“We both knew exactly what he had gone through,” Pringle said. “We felt his pain; we understood his anger.”

Jacobs, now 71, and Pringle, 80, had each lived a similar nightmare — she in the United States and he in Ireland — both caught in the slow wheels of their nations’ criminal justice systems. They were both dragged onto death row, where they spent a decade and a half awaiting execution, before their convictions were overturned for the murders they steadfastly maintained they did not commit.

“It was an extremely dark time in our lives,” Pringle said.

On January 29, Jacobs and Pringle will be at the UN headquarters to attend a screening of Fallout, a documentary that will shine a light on those dark times. Mark McLoughlin, who directed and produced the film, which follows the lives of Jacobs, Pringle and two others in the difficult aftermath of their exonerations, said he was “concerned by the fact that a victim of the state becomes classified as an enemy of the state as they fight to establish their innocence.”

“I was specifically interested in the trajectory of their lives after prison,” McLoughlin said, “which in most longer-term cases have been destroyed.”

To avoid such plight, Jacobs and Pringle — who were married in November 2011 in New York and were the subjects of a Vows feature — have created the Sunny Center Foundation, which is based at their home in Ireland and at a donated property in Tampa, Florida. They welcome men and women who have been wrongfully incarcerated, providing them with spiritual, emotional and physical support to ease them back into society.

When in Ireland, they also make sure to maintain “some alone time,” as Jacobs put it, starting with breakfast every morning together, but not before they feed their cat and their dog, and their goats, donkeys and hens.

“All of us live together on what you might call a little bit of a farm, with a magnificent view of the ocean,” Jacobs said. “As far as entertainment goes, we have 11 grandchildren between us spread out in Los Angeles, Ireland, Australia and New Zealand, so keeping up with them is entertainment enough.”

“Otherwise, Peter and I are more than satisfied with going for a long walk on a beautiful evening, and coming home and reading a good book,” she said. “Of course, things are a lot different when an exoneree is staying with us, then everything changes, all of our attention gets focused on them.”

Since 2010, there have been 14 exonerees who have traveled to meet the couple, with the man from Detroit being the first. The majority of the exonerees have had their spirits lifted and been given a renewed sense of purpose by Jacobs, Pringle and a handful of professional counselors and therapists affiliated with their foundation. Others, however, have not been able to return to the productive lives they were leading before they were wrongly convicted and jailed.

“When you are imprisoned, love is the first thing that disappears from your life,” Jacobs said. “So the first thing we do for our exonerees is make them a part of our family, we invite them into our home and shower them with unconditional love.”

The 14 exonerees, which included a woman from Holland and a man from Taiwan who arrived with an interpreter, stayed with the couple for anywhere from two to four weeks, “depending on the psychological condition of each individual,” Jacobs said.

The first week, she said, “is all about them getting their stories out, so we mainly listen,” and the second week, “is when we begin to share our own experiences with them.” By weeks three and four, their fellow exonerees are encouraged to meditate, participate in yoga and pray, and are provided with tools that the couple say went a long way toward their own emotional and spiritual recoveries.

“The greatest tool is forgiveness,” Jacobs said. “If you hold on to that anger and resentment, then there’s no room for happiness and love in your heart, and you start destroying your own life.”

Other tools come in the form of trauma specialists and counselors, “and that’s where things get expensive,” Jacobs said, “which is why we need donations to keep our foundation running.” Jacobs and Pringle are hoping to expand their base of operations in the United States and Europe through donations and future fundraising events. Thousands upon thousands of frequent-flyer miles have been donated to the couple’s foundation.

“We run on an extremely minimum budget,” said Jacobs, whose work has taken her and Pringle to 12 countries. “The more we can expand, the more people we can help,” she said. “Do you realize that there are over 2,000 exonerees in the United States alone?”

According to the National Registry of Exoneration, there are in fact 2,363 exonerees in the United States, which total 20,045 lost years of life. “These exonerees, who did nothing wrong in the first place and lost huge chunks of their lives in prison, are offered little or no compensation upon their release, whereas actual criminals who served their time are entitled to receive all the financial benefits the system will allow,” Pringle said. “It makes no sense.”

Jacobs and Pringle have each written a book about their experiences, hers titled, Stolen Time (Random House, 2007), and his, About Time (History Press, Ireland, 2013).

The couple met in 1998, during Jacobs’ global campaign against the death penalty that brought her to a crowded pub in Galway, Ireland, to speak at an Amnesty International event, which Pringle had attended. As Pringle listened to Jacobs share the horrific events of the day in February 1976, when her world went dark, he began to cry.

Jacobs, then 28, was a passenger in a car driven by a man named Walter Norman Rhodes Jr. Also in the car was her second husband, Jesse Tafero, as well as their 10-month-old daughter and Jacobs’ 9-year-old son from her first marriage.

Rhodes, who had befriended Tafero during an earlier prison stint for both men, was giving the couple a ride from Miami to the home of friends in West Palm Beach, Florida, when they were pulled over by two police officers at a rest stop off Interstate 95 in Broward County.

The scene erupted in a hail of bullets, leaving both officers dead. Police captured all three suspects and charged them with murder. Tafero and Jacobs, who maintained that Rhodes had done the shooting, were sentenced to death, while Rhodes, who testified against the couple, plea-bargained with authorities, reducing his sentence to life.

In 1981, Jacobs won an appeal and the Florida Supreme Court changed her sentence from death to life in prison. But her spirits were crushed the following year when her parents, who were raising her two children, died in the crash of Pan Am Flight 759 in Kenner, Louisiana.

“It was the most devastating time in my entire life,” said Jacobs, who still wears her mother’s wedding ring, which was salvaged in the wreckage. Her children were cast into the foster-care system, but Jacobs still had her husband, with whom she exchanged prison letters. “Anything he touched, or that he wrote on, or that he licked with his tongue, I was keeping,” she said. “I existed on those letters.”

But on May 4, 1990, with Jacobs still in prison, Tafero was put to death in a Florida electric chair. “The world had become a place I didn’t know anymore,” she said.

She continued to fight for her release, which came in 1992, nearly 17 years after her arrest, when her conviction was overturned on appeal, as Rhodes eventually confessed to murdering the two officers. Jacobs had entered solitary confinement inside Broward Correctional Institution as a “28-year-old vegetarian hippie,” she said, and exited prison as “a 45-year-old orphan, widow and grandmother.”

(Her story, along with five other wrongfully convicted death row inmates, became The Exonerated, a play that had its off-Broadway debut in October 2002, with Jacobs portrayed by actresses Jill Clayburgh, Mia Farrow, Lynn Redgrave, Susan Sarandon, Kathleen Turner, Brooke Shields and Marlo Thomas).

Pringle was accused of being one of three men who had murdered two police officers after a bank robbery in July 1980 in Ballaghaderreen, Ireland. A 41-year-old divorced father of four at the time, he had been sentenced to be hanged after his conviction.

His lawyers won a stay of his original December 19, 1980, execution, which was then reset for June 8, 1981. His hanging was only weeks away when, on May 27, 1981, Ireland’s president commuted Pringle’s sentence to 40 years without parole. Pringle, who is originally from Dublin and dropped out of school when he was 13, decided to serve as his own counsel. “I became something of a jailhouse lawyer,” he said.

Pringle was eventually able to prove that an interrogating officer had written down his alleged confession before any interrogation had actually taken place. He said that in May 1995, “the case was quashed by the court of criminal appeal on the grounds that my conviction was unsafe and unsatisfactory.”

Jacobs, who was born in Rockway, Queens, and grew up in Elmont, New York, was living in Los Angeles at the time she met Pringle. She made an effort to remain his long-distance friend, saying she found him to be “a very honorable man.”

Six months after they met, Pringle invited Jacobs back to Ireland, this time to give a talk during a local concert he arranged in Galway.

“During that visit, we fell in love,” Jacobs said.

“We didn’t just share a past,” she added. “We had a vision for a future.”

[puffypawskittyhaven-blog]

CAT HOSPICE WILL BE OUT OF CAT FOOD ON FRIDAY Please donate @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id454.html Englewood, Florida’s “World’s Greatest Cathouse,“ Puffy Paws Kitty Haven is 501(c)(3) a non-profit, no-kill cat hospice and rescue specializing in providing quality and loving care to special needs cats and finding homes for the adoptable kitties under their care. Puffy Paws cares for kitties with feline leukemia, FIV, feral cats, unadoptable kitties, one eye cats, senior kitties, kitties that do not use their litter box, abused kitties, cats with neurological disorders, abused kitties and more - basically unwanted and unadoptable kitties that would be euthanized elsewhere. You give us that ability to saves lives with your support by caring, sharing, praying, sending power of light and love and donating when feasible. It seems like its a never ending, in raising funds for these kitties, yet we only ask for what we need for them to give the wonderful live they never had.

CAT HOSPICE WILL BE OUT OF CAT FOOD ON FRIDAY Once again we must reach out to the kitty lovers of the world , so we can feed the kitties for the following week. .Each and every week we must ask the kitty lovers of the word to feed the kitties, this is why you are seeing us in your news-feed.

We have no other options without local support ,the kitties daily survival depends upon the charity of the kitty lovers around the world, each and everyday.

$ZERO$ In / $946 To Go For Cat Foodz Bill of $946 For The Week Of March 10th - March 17th

IT COSTS $4.73 TO FEED EACH KITTY A WEEK AT PUFFY PAWS.

Yet It will be such a disaster when the wholesaler, Phillips Pet Food & Supply, tries to delivered the food on Friday and we can not pay for it. In the contract that we signed non payment of goods ordered will be dealt with cancelling the account.

The kitties can not go on without cat food. That will be inhumane . We beg of you, if you heart and budget can afford to help please do. A $5 $10 $25 Donation all adds up.

I'm so sorry in asking but if we don't the kitties will go with out. It is all up to what your heart and budget can afford to take care of the kitties. Every little bit helps.

Thank you for all your support during our difficult times.

Please only give what your heart and budget can afford to help these very special needs and unwanted kitties.

Please donate @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id454.html

With being a Cat Hospice many kitties have come into our lives for their final days.It breaks our heart that they come to Puffy Paws in such bad shape at times from death row, the streets and owner give ups.

Broken little souls and bodies that need, the love and care we can only provide all because of you.

Thank you so much for being the true kitty angels that you all are.

Please Watch: Puffy Paws TV Don't Let The Puffy Paws Kitties Be A Forgotten Memory @ https://youtu.be/tbTRR0rcbU4

Please Watch: Puffy Paws TV Passed Animal Control Inspection With Flying Colors @ https://www.facebook.com/TheWorldsGreatestCathousePuffyPawsKittyHaven/videos/10154579986547384/

Please Watch: Puffy Paws TV Rick & Da Kitties @ https://www.facebook.com/TheWorldsGreatestCathousePuffyPawsKittyHaven/videos/10154418972272384/

200 Special Needs Kitties Needs Your Help Today.

With Chrissy Kingston taking care of the kitties every single day. backed by an Army of kitty lovers around the world all because they help when the kitties need it.

Please read:

Chrissy - A Woman With The Strength Of A 1,000 Men @ http://puffypawskittyhaven.com/id390.html

In 2009, Sarasota Code Enforcement ban all adoptions, surrenders, and volunteers to Englewood, Florida’s “World’s Greatest Cathouse,“ Puffy Paws Kitty Haven is a non-profit, no-kill cat hospice and rescue specializing in providing quality and loving care to special needs cats and finding homes for the adoptable kitties under their care..

Bottom line Per Code Enforcement - You can not run a business from a residential home - NO FOOT TRAFFIC.

( For more information on the background story please click )

http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id471.html

Since than, my wife, Co-Founder Chrissy Kingston has been taking care of 200 kitties by herself yet she can not feed the kitties if we do not have cat food.

With being a two man band Chrissy running the Haven and I the Business Center. I wear many hats through out the day. I raise funds on-line. If I fail at raising funds for the food & kitties daily needs and the $3000 in operating expenses for the kitties under our care,and the $4,000 in vet care every month, there will be no other option but to close down. What choice would we have?

Operating Expenses @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id353.html

An entire cat hospice will be wiped out and only painful and sad stories will be told because we could not round up the worldwide awareness and financial help these beautiful cats deserve.

I run to the Vet. I'm our Web Master. I do all the graphic art work.I'm the kitties photographer and video tech I update on fb and the other social media's everyday.

I pick up the kitties daily supplies when needed. I put out the SOS's for help. I put out all the fires that pop out daily. I help out at the Haven when needed. I'm my wife's venting post. I'm the fixer.

Which brings up till the hard reality of today.

WE WILL BE OUT OF CAT FOOD ON FRIDAY Please donate @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id454.html

Thank you for reading our plea for help today

Thank You. These two words can never express what Chrissy and I feel.

You are going where others dare not to go, as thousands of cats are being killed today at traditional shelters.

You are opening up your hearts to the second chance kitties at Puffy Paws.

YOU ARE TAKING A STAND TODAY BY YOUR SUPPORT

By caring ,sharing, praying, sending power of light and love and donating when feasible is the Puffy Paws way.

What we call this at Puffy Paws is Mad Kitty Love.

A love so rich for felines in ones soul that it is unconditional just like their love for us.

We welcome you to trudge this beautiful journey with us.

What a difficult road we all travel for the sake of 200 special needs kitties that depends upon the entire world of kitty lovers to see the light of tomorrow.

We all are taking a stand, by words and deeds that every kitty life is just as precious as the next.

We can never thank you enough.

Once again we must reach out to the kitty lovers of the world , so we can feed the kitties for the following week.

We will run out of cat food on Friday.

Each and every week we must ask the kitty lovers of the word to feed the kitties this is why you are seeing us in your news-feed.

We have no other options without local support ,the kitties daily survival depends upon the charity of the kitty lovers around the world, each and everyday.

$ZERO$ In / $946 To Go For Cat Foodz Bill of $946 For The Week Of March 10th - March 17th

IT COSTS $4.74 TO FEED EACH KITTY A WEEK AT PUFFY PAWS.

If you can help. Please do @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id454.html

Only by asking for help when we need it, is the only way we make it at a day at a time. No Donation Is Ever To Small.

In these hard economical times, we all know the personal sacrifices each and everyone of you make when you donate to the kitties at Puffy Paws Kitty Haven and for this we will always be eternally grateful.

Please only give what your heart & budget can afford

Thank you for keeping the kitties safe from an ever so cruel world where they came from

If we do not ask for help when they kitties need it we will never be able to keep the doors open at Puffy Paws Kitty Haven. 200 special needs kitties lives are at stake each and everyday.

If we can not feed, vet, and pay the operating expenses, their will be no food, sick cats, no power.

We will never be able to go on with conditions like those. This is why we must ask for your help today. We are not a traditional rescue and our fund raising is anything but traditional.

QUESTION & CONCERNS

The majority of any question and concerns can be answered by reading the post in its entirety and by going to the following links below.

Feel free to call me at 941-623-8904 if you could not find the answer you were looking for.

Puffy Paws Kitty Haven, passed Inspections by Sarasota County Animal Control ,in 2015 & 2016 & Passed With Flying Colors @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id470.html

Puffy Paws Kitty Haven is supported by the kitty lovers around the world.

Check out the kitties F.A.Q @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id457.html

Please read: Love vs Hate:The True Story of Puffy Paws @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id455.html

This is our true story and our history, documented in the media, in how the forces of evil can never trump the true love the founders of Puffy Paws Kitty Haven have for each other and the special needs & unwanted kitties under their care and here you will find any answer to a question, you may have about Puffy Paws.

We also invite you to explore the kitties web site @ www.puffypaws.org

Please click the link to see over 25,000 pictures of our daily adventures.

https://www.facebook.com/pg/TheWorldsGreatestCathousePuffyPawsKittyHaven/photos/

We know you will love the kitties at Puffy Paws.

This Is Is What The Local & National Media Has Been Saying About Puffy Paws Kitty Haven.

" Puffy Paws is a Taj Mahal For Kitties ".Dee Anne Roberts WENG Radio Host - All About Pets

" The Cat’s Meow of Nonprofit Organizations" Alissa Wolf from about dot com

Josh Taylor from ABC 7 News has called Puffy Paws Kitty Haven " A Bed & Breakfast For Cats ".

Tami Patzer from the Gasparilla Gazette, wrote " Puffy Paws Kitty Haven is immaculate and if all the cats hid under the bed, anyone entering the home would have no clue cats even lived there.

Stephen Baumann from the Englewood Sun Herald wrote - You might think the Kingston household is a crowded, purring, furry mess. It's not. The house is big enough, and the cats small enough, that everyone's got more than enough room to stretch out, which is how cats spend much of their day anyhow.

It cost well over $30,000.00 a month to run Puffy Paws Kitty Haven. $41.09 a hour every single day, 365 days a year.

Funds are like the tide over here at Puffy Paws. Funds in and funds out.

Please check out our operating expenses page @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id353.html

Rick has become a "Social Media High Tech Beggar " it may not be pretty but it works.

Some folks cry they do not like our fund raising tactics. Our reality is the brutal truth. We have never sugar-coated it. That is why the kitties are alive today because the kitty lovers of the world know about our daily dilemma.

Everyday we must ask for help from Kitty Lovers from all over the world, using all social media that is at our disposal, so that we may keep continuing our mission in helping the special need & unwanted kitties under our care

Please give the gift of life by donating to these very special need kitties. Without your help we can not do what we do for the kitties under our care.

Only Through The Power of Your Love Can These Very Special Need Kitties See The Light of Tomorrow.

Its truth or consequences fund raising. If folks do not donate - We can not feed the kitties and if this happens and if the $30,000 a month operating expense are not paid,we will have to shut down and the cats will die at the hand of others.

The unwanted & special need kitties are blessed to have a world wide family that loves them ever so much. Thank You !!!

The Majority of the fund Are Donated By The Kitties Lovers Through Out The World.

Just by asking for help when the kitties need it.

Puffy Paws cares for kitties with feline leukemia, FIV, feral cats, unadoptable kitties, one eye cats, senior kitties, kitties that do not use their litter box, abused kitties, cats with neurological disorders, abused kitties and more - basically unwanted and unadoptable kitties that would be euthanized elsewhere.

WE WILL BE OUT OF CAT FOOD ON FRIDAY

$ZERO$ In / $946 To Go For Cat Foodz Bill of $946 For The Week Of March 10th - March 17th

IT COSTS $4.73 TO FEED EACH KITTY A WEEK AT PUFFY PAWS.

If you can help. Please do @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id454.html

It will be such a disaster when Phillips Pet Food & Supply tries to delivered the food on Friday and we can not pay for it. In the contract that we signed non payment of goods ordered will be dealt with cancelling the account.

We can not go on without cat food. That will be inhumane . We beg of you, if you heart and budget can afford to help please do. A $5 $10 $25 Donation all adds up.

I'm so sorry in asking but if we don't the kitties will go with out. It is all up to what your heart and budget can afford to take care of the kitties. Every little bit helps.

Thank you for all your support during our difficult times.

Please only give what your heart and budget can afford to help these very special needs and unwanted kitties.

Please donate @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id454.html

IT COSTS $4.73 TO FEED EACH KITTY A WEEK AT PUFFY PAWS. IF WE CAN NOT COME UP WITH $946,00 EVERY FRIDAY. THE TOTAL WEEKLY COST TO FEED 200 SPECIAL NEEDS & UNWANTED KITTIES. WE CAN NOT KEEP THE DOORS OPEN. WE WILL KEEP YOU UPDATED AS THE FUNDS COMES IN EACH WEEK FOR THE C.O.D PAYMENT EVERY FRIDAY.

THE KITTIES EAT A WEEK.

32 CASES OF WET CAT FOOD A WEEK Evanger's Chicken Lickin' Dinner - 13 oz Cans $1.41 Per Can 12 In A Case - $16.90 Per Case

17 BAGS OF DRY CAT FOOD A WEEK

Evanger's Super Premium Pheasant & Whitefish Formula Low Grain Dry Cat Food 12 Ibs - 1 Bag $23.22

Plus A $11 Delivery Charge.

You have the power to advert this tragedy

By using the Shopping Cart @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id454.html you may donate to pay for 1 case of wet cat food, a bag of dry, or more.

Or you may make a donation of your choice. A $3 $5 $10 donation is like a million bucks to the kitties.

If you can help. Please do @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id454.html

It is all up to what your heart and budget can afford to take care of the kitties.

Every little bit helps.

Please only give what your heart & budget can afford.

Why Are The Kitties On A Premium Cat Food ?

We switched the kitties diet due to necessity to a premium cat food, years ago. We had them on Friskies. it was not working out anymore for the kitties.

What eventually happened was Friskies was like Chinese food, Taco Bell to the kitties. They will eat and eat, 70 pounds a day and not get filled up. With being a Cat Hospice for Special need and unwanted kitties we had to change their diet immediately.

In reality it was never cheaper having the kitties on on a diet that was not a premium one.

Please do not forget a healthy diet meant less sick kitties at the vet through out the years since the change over.

Puffy Paws Kitty Haven buys the cat food once a week from the wholesaler Phillips Pet Food & Supplies.

We do not pay retail.

Phillips Pet Food & Supplies has been a family owned and operated business since 1938.

Phillips is the premier pet food and pet supply distributor with 12 distribution centers and it is C.O.D every Friday.

Puffy Paws Kitty Haven saves over $10,000.00 a year buying the kitty food wholesale instead of retail like we used to.

So it was never cheaper having the kitties on on a diet that was not a premium one.

This was the best decision to make in order to continue our mission here at Puffy Paws Kitty Haven in keeping the special need kitties and unwanted kitties under our care in the best health possible.

As you know Puffy Paws cares for kitties with feline leukemia, FIV, feral cats, unadoptable kitties, one eye cats, senior kitties, kitties that do not use their litter box, abused kitties, cats with neurological disorders, abused kitties and more - basically unwanted and unadoptable kitties that would be euthanized elsewhere, and the premium cat food, fits all their nutritional needs.

With being a Cat Hospice for Special need and unwanted kitties we had to change their diet in order to have the kitties in the best ultimate health.

It cost $4.73 to feed each kitty a week at Puffy Paws.

The 200 kitties eat.

32 CASES OF WET CAT FOOD A WEEK

Evanger's Chicken Lickin' Dinner - 13 oz Cans $1.41 Per Can 12 In A Case - $16.90 Per Case

17 BAGS OF DRY CAT FOOD A WEEK

Evanger's Super Premium Pheasant & Whitefish Formula Low Grain Dry Cat Food 12 Ibs - 1 Bag $23.22

Product Description

Nutritional Solutions – Pure and Simple

Evanger's Chicken Lickin' Dinner is formulated to meet the nutritional levels established by the AAFCO nutrient profiles for all life stages. Chicken Lickin' is certified Kosher for Passover by the cRc.

Evanger's Pheasant and Whitefish Dry Cat Food Evanger's Pheasant and Whitefish Dry Cat Food provides a complete and rich diet to your cat. This pheasant and whitefish formula also contains duck, potatoes, oatmeal, parsley, blueberries, cranberries and other natural ingredients.

Made from only superior ingredients, this formula offers great taste, which even picky eaters will appreciate. Evanger's Pheasant and Whitefish Dry Cat Food: Multiple protein sources Fresh, natural ingredients Low grains Rich in nutrition A Closer Look: Protein from seafood and pheasant supports lean mass.

Fiber in Evanger's Pheasant and Whitefish Dry Cat Food improves digestion, while taurine supports health and eye health. Various vitamins and minerals can be beneficial for the overall health of your pet cat. Made Specially for: Cats of all ages Free of: Corn, wheat, soy and artificial flavors or preservatives

It cost $4.73 to feed each kitty a week at Puffy Paws.

IT COSTS $4.73 TO FEED EACH KITTY A WEEK AT PUFFY PAWS. IF WE CAN NOT COME UP WITH $946,00 EVERY FRIDAY. THE TOTAL WEEKLY COST TO FEED 200 SPECIAL NEEDS & UNWANTED KITTIES. WE CAN NOT KEEP THE DOORS OPEN. WE WILL KEEP YOU UPDATED AS THE FUNDS COMES IN EACH WEEK FOR THE C.O.D PAYMENT EVERY FRIDAY.

In these hard economical times, we all know the personal sacrifices each and everyone of you make when you donate to the kitties at Puffy Paws Kitty Haven and for this we will always be eternally grateful.

With out the support and the love of the kitty lovers around the world, we could never do what we do for the kitties under our care.

Please only donate what your heart and budget can afford because without you we can not make it.

Thank you for your understanding and continue support.

Mad Kitty Love To You All & Paws Up !!! Please donate @ http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id454.html

Rick & Chrissy Kingston & Da Kitties Founders Puffy Paws Kitty Haven. 941-623-8904 www.puffypaws.org

If you like to send a check or Money Order. Please make it to Puffy Paws Kitty Haven.

The kitties mailing address is Puffy Paws Kitty Haven 270 Lakeview Lane Englewood Florida 34223

The Kitties Amazon Wish List Is http://www.puffypawskittyhaven.com/id138.html

[carinaconnor5]

Be Somebody

What picture comes to your mind when you think of an alcoholic? A homeless person under the bridge? Or a well-situated housewife, mother, or church member in suburbia driving a newer SUV? What do you think a heroin user looks like? Do you picture a young adult who is homeless, jobless, or panhandling in the metro in dirty clothes? Or do you picture the football star of your daughter’s high school, who asked her out for prom, from well-known family in town, son of a lawyer and a doctor who just got his first Mercedes? Fact is, all of these pictures are true.

Alcoholism and addiction are not just a problem for the under-privileged and under-educated. Alcoholism and addiction are pounding on everyone’s door.

Armed with that information, think of who might need your attention and help, not your isolation or stigma. Don’t shut your doors to those that struggle, or this epidemic will get worse and worse. It sometimes takes a village to help people get back on their feet. You could be the one who start it by opening your door to the one that has nowhere else to go.

Instead of shielding your children from the world, so they can’t get in touch with the “wrong people”, be the one that has information, healthy boundaries, an open door without judgement, but full of help and support. If a young person is in trouble, don’t forbid your children further contact with that person, but welcome him to a talk, offer support, or seek a conversation and tell him that he’s welcome if he turns his life around.

We all have that perfect friend that seems to have it all in a row. The daily juggle of housework, maybe a job, maybe kids, husband, home, cooking, cleaning, church and charity. What you don’t know is what happens behind closed doors. For a very long time, I was able to keep that picture upright. I bought enormous amounts of alcohol, but I spread it in a very organized way between several liquor stores, so it never looked suspicious, so I thought. Looking back I’m pretty sure that people knew what was going on, especially if they saw me drinking my way “down the shelf”. (“Down the shelf” means that expensive brands like Chevas Regal or 12-year-old malt whisky are usually at eye height in the upper shelves. At the end of my alcoholism, I was drinking those plastic half gallon bottles, which are usually near the floor board.)

At first, I drank because I loved that feeling of warmth and escape. I loved going to bed with the right amount of booze in my blood that made me tired and restful and heavy. Your mind turns off, your thoughts disappear and you float into dreamless sleep. It has been many years since I had that feeling, but I still chased it. The last years, I drank to stop the tremble in my hands, to wake up, and to function in the mornings. And at night, it was not cozy anymore, it was me passing out with little memory of the evening, most times. To the outside observer, I kept my face nice and only left my home when I was in a good state. Most people who knew me didn’t see a person with a drinking problem– they saw my mask.

I was a prisoner in my own house. I was too afraid to get a DUI to drive drunk, and when you are most often drunk, you don’t drive anywhere. (My husband worked long hours, most of the time six days a week, so me and my cat were the ones that shared life, day in and day out. I recently lost my cat, it was the hardest thing for me. She was by my side in the worst years of my alcoholism and addiction and the first years of my recovery. I can’t imagine that I would have been able to do it without her at some days, she was my rock and emotional stability when my life shattered. My husband was my biggest support and did everything for my recovery, but my cat was the unconditional love that never left my side.)

I isolated myself from the world, since I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. Needless to say, I didn’t want anybody else to see me that way. Today, If I look at pictures from that time, I’m in true shock.

During my addiction to certain pill, and my alcoholism, I was the woman next door to you, the one who seemed to have it all together. I was the one that waved to everyone on the way to town, that mowed the lawn (1/3 at a time, since I was unable to be in the sun that long as I would have passed out), that ate healthy, grew tomatoes, and loved the flowers in her front yard. My house was clean; my car was shiny.

The outside picture was fine, but nobody was supposed to know how I look inside. I did not reach out for help, because I felt too embarrassed by my own actions. My level of shame and guilt over my drinking was unbearable, my actions and behavior didn’t match my outfit, or my morals and values. It was the worst way to live.

When it comes to addiction or alcoholism, it doesn’t matter why that person got addicted. I often hear, “It’s his own fault. Nobody forced him to take it.” and similar sentences. First of all, most people in addiction started well before their 15th birthday. Nobody can say that, for example, a 12-year-old made a well-informed decision when he took his first drink or drug. Before he gained any form of maturity, he was already a full-blown addict.

Others get prescriptions for pain (for example, after a surgery) and little they know, they would end up as addicts and eventually buy it on the street. But even if someone could be said to be at a responsible age and got into it with full knowledge, who am I to throw the first stone? It’s like telling someone who lost all his belongings in a house fire that he is an irresponsible, unreliable person, because he fell asleep with a candle lit. Was it his fault? Yes, but losing everything in a fire is still a tragedy, isn’t it? Let’s stop blaming, and start helping. Break that stigma and stop judging. It doesn’t matter why, addicts need help.

I don’t have an excuse or want an excuse why I am an alcoholic and addict. But I know one thing very clearly: While becoming addicted was not entirely within my control, it is my responsibility to do something about it. When I’m a diabetic, I need to go to the doctor, get my medicine, and keep a diet. As a severe alcoholic just before dying, I needed treatment, medical help, meetings, and to keep away from mind-altering substances. I followed my treatment plan and have not relapsed (so far) in seven years of sobriety. I didn’t do it alone.

We can only get better as a society and win the fight against addiction if we get back together as a community and remember what we can do for each other.

We need to stop judging our neighbors, but be a community that reaches out. We need to stop living side-by-side without interaction and be neighbors again that care for each other. Families have to stop pointing the finger toward the “black sheep”, but get together to figure out how they can help and find a way got get their lost loved one back on a healthy track.

If you don’t know how to help, maybe just give the person our phone number: 888-312 4220 and tell him you will support him if he decides to get help. Calls are free, confidential, and no strings attached. It’s an easy way to ask about a way out of the dark place. Parents and other relatives are welcome to call as well to get tips and help.

Today, I know that somebody has to take care about it. And I am somebody. I hope you are somebody, too. Be Somebody, help somebody.

We do recover. Susanne Johnson

The post Be Somebody appeared first on Heroes in Recovery.

from http://heroesinrecovery.com/blog/2017/10/20/be-somebody/

[cristinavpaintings]

Be Somebody

What picture comes to your mind when you think of an alcoholic? A homeless person under the bridge? Or a well-situated housewife, mother, or church member in suburbia driving a newer SUV? What do you think a heroin user looks like? Do you picture a young adult who is homeless, jobless, or panhandling in the metro in dirty clothes? Or do you picture the football star of your daughter’s high school, who asked her out for prom, from well-known family in town, son of a lawyer and a doctor who just got his first Mercedes? Fact is, all of these pictures are true.

Alcoholism and addiction are not just a problem for the under-privileged and under-educated. Alcoholism and addiction are pounding on everyone’s door.

Armed with that information, think of who might need your attention and help, not your isolation or stigma. Don’t shut your doors to those that struggle, or this epidemic will get worse and worse. It sometimes takes a village to help people get back on their feet. You could be the one who start it by opening your door to the one that has nowhere else to go.

Instead of shielding your children from the world, so they can’t get in touch with the “wrong people”, be the one that has information, healthy boundaries, an open door without judgement, but full of help and support. If a young person is in trouble, don’t forbid your children further contact with that person, but welcome him to a talk, offer support, or seek a conversation and tell him that he’s welcome if he turns his life around.

We all have that perfect friend that seems to have it all in a row. The daily juggle of housework, maybe a job, maybe kids, husband, home, cooking, cleaning, church and charity. What you don’t know is what happens behind closed doors. For a very long time, I was able to keep that picture upright. I bought enormous amounts of alcohol, but I spread it in a very organized way between several liquor stores, so it never looked suspicious, so I thought. Looking back I’m pretty sure that people knew what was going on, especially if they saw me drinking my way “down the shelf”. (“Down the shelf” means that expensive brands like Chevas Regal or 12-year-old malt whisky are usually at eye height in the upper shelves. At the end of my alcoholism, I was drinking those plastic half gallon bottles, which are usually near the floor board.)

At first, I drank because I loved that feeling of warmth and escape. I loved going to bed with the right amount of booze in my blood that made me tired and restful and heavy. Your mind turns off, your thoughts disappear and you float into dreamless sleep. It has been many years since I had that feeling, but I still chased it. The last years, I drank to stop the tremble in my hands, to wake up, and to function in the mornings. And at night, it was not cozy anymore, it was me passing out with little memory of the evening, most times. To the outside observer, I kept my face nice and only left my home when I was in a good state. Most people who knew me didn’t see a person with a drinking problem– they saw my mask.

I was a prisoner in my own house. I was too afraid to get a DUI to drive drunk, and when you are most often drunk, you don’t drive anywhere. (My husband worked long hours, most of the time six days a week, so me and my cat were the ones that shared life, day in and day out. I recently lost my cat, it was the hardest thing for me. She was by my side in the worst years of my alcoholism and addiction and the first years of my recovery. I can’t imagine that I would have been able to do it without her at some days, she was my rock and emotional stability when my life shattered. My husband was my biggest support and did everything for my recovery, but my cat was the unconditional love that never left my side.)

I isolated myself from the world, since I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror. Needless to say, I didn’t want anybody else to see me that way. Today, If I look at pictures from that time, I’m in true shock.

During my addiction to certain pill, and my alcoholism, I was the woman next door to you, the one who seemed to have it all together. I was the one that waved to everyone on the way to town, that mowed the lawn (1/3 at a time, since I was unable to be in the sun that long as I would have passed out), that ate healthy, grew tomatoes, and loved the flowers in her front yard. My house was clean; my car was shiny.

The outside picture was fine, but nobody was supposed to know how I look inside. I did not reach out for help, because I felt too embarrassed by my own actions. My level of shame and guilt over my drinking was unbearable, my actions and behavior didn’t match my outfit, or my morals and values. It was the worst way to live.

When it comes to addiction or alcoholism, it doesn’t matter why that person got addicted. I often hear, “It’s his own fault. Nobody forced him to take it.” and similar sentences. First of all, most people in addiction started well before their 15th birthday. Nobody can say that, for example, a 12-year-old made a well-informed decision when he took his first drink or drug. Before he gained any form of maturity, he was already a full-blown addict.

Others get prescriptions for pain (for example, after a surgery) and little they know, they would end up as addicts and eventually buy it on the street. But even if someone could be said to be at a responsible age and got into it with full knowledge, who am I to throw the first stone? It’s like telling someone who lost all his belongings in a house fire that he is an irresponsible, unreliable person, because he fell asleep with a candle lit. Was it his fault? Yes, but losing everything in a fire is still a tragedy, isn’t it? Let’s stop blaming, and start helping. Break that stigma and stop judging. It doesn’t matter why, addicts need help.

I don’t have an excuse or want an excuse why I am an alcoholic and addict. But I know one thing very clearly: While becoming addicted was not entirely within my control, it is my responsibility to do something about it. When I’m a diabetic, I need to go to the doctor, get my medicine, and keep a diet. As a severe alcoholic just before dying, I needed treatment, medical help, meetings, and to keep away from mind-altering substances. I followed my treatment plan and have not relapsed (so far) in seven years of sobriety. I didn’t do it alone.

We can only get better as a society and win the fight against addiction if we get back together as a community and remember what we can do for each other.

We need to stop judging our neighbors, but be a community that reaches out. We need to stop living side-by-side without interaction and be neighbors again that care for each other. Families have to stop pointing the finger toward the “black sheep”, but get together to figure out how they can help and find a way got get their lost loved one back on a healthy track.

If you don’t know how to help, maybe just give the person our phone number: 888-312 4220 and tell him you will support him if he decides to get help. Calls are free, confidential, and no strings attached. It’s an easy way to ask about a way out of the dark place. Parents and other relatives are welcome to call as well to get tips and help.

Today, I know that somebody has to take care about it. And I am somebody. I hope you are somebody, too. Be Somebody, help somebody.

We do recover. Susanne Johnson

The post Be Somebody appeared first on Heroes in Recovery.

Source: http://heroesinrecovery.com/blog/2017/10/20/be-somebody/