#three vets on the piss

[richo1915]

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

i think i might actually start mauling people. i think i should be allowed to hunt toshiro haters for sport.

[lesbiansanemi]

I am so…. SO tired of my cat peeing everywhere

[omgthatdress]

Sooooo ummmmmmm this is something that's probably going to piss a lot of people off, but I feel like I really need to say it.

If you get a message from an account claiming to be a Palestinian fundraiser, it is a bot. It is a scam. You need to report & delete the message and encourage others to do the same.

I know because I get messages on this account DAILY. I have a very high follower count and I'm pretty active and I interact with my followers a lot, and apparently that all adds up to one big bot magnet.

Bots following and messaging this account was a MASSIVE problem before Tumblr fixed its new account policies. I used to spend literally hours blocking and reporting the hundreds of bots that I would get following me each day.

I learned a lot about bots and how to identify them. The easiest way is with no avatar, "untitled" in the blog description (BTW if your avatar is still set to default PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD change it because you run a substantial risk of being accidentally blocked & reported as a bot).

One of the dead give aways of a bot was what I call "word salad" names. Three seemingly random words strung together making no sense, always adjective, adjective or noun, noun. If you reported a lot of these bots, you'd notice the same words kept showing up.

Nowadays, I am bombarded with fundraiser requests and sometimes, they don't even bother to hide the fact that they're a bot. The avatar is default, the blog title is "untitled," and the blog name is a classic randomly-generated word salad.

However MOST of the requests I get come from at least semi-legit looking accounts. There are pictures, a name, a story. Never mind that I've gotten that message three times from different accounts.

Sometimes, they claim to be vetted, but the whole vetting system essentially adds up to "trust me bro." There is no way of guaranteeing that this account isn't just lying about being vetted, claiming to be vetted by a false person, or are using the identity of a real Palestinian to scam people.

Previously, I've seen a lot of people getting attacked for raising questions about these fundraisers and getting attacked for being racist or for harming Palestinian families in danger, like Tumblr isn't a website famous for its scams and the words "The Arkh Project" "All or Nothing" or "Miss Officer and Mr. Truffles" mean nothing to you.

I personally have been scammed by people claiming to be charities on Tumblr before, specifically, The Leelah Project which used the name of a trans teenager who died by suicide to swindle people out of their money.

Luckily, there are actual, respected charities out there you can give money to if you want to help the cause:

Palestinian Children's Relief Fund

Palestine Red Crescent Society

United Nations Relief Works Agency

Islamic Relief

World Central Kitchen

Médecins Sans Frontièrs

One of the hardest things to accept about the situation in Palestine is that realistically, there is very little that your average outsider can do to change it. However, these large, well-respected and trustworthy charities are out there doing the hard work to keep people alive, and should be where the donation money is going

These scam bots feed on people's naïvety and need to believe that they are making a difference, and even worse, feed on the fear that by ignoring them, it somehow makes you a racist doing direct harm to a refugee family, when in fact they are using the suffering of Palestinians to take away money from those in need.

As far as fundraisers that don't send out random asks for donations, I honestly don't know. You'll have to do the work yourself and approach with much caution.

Be careful out there.

[guess-how-i-stole-this-body]

The take that "if you're not gonna vote for someone who is killing your fucking family then you're selfish" is CRAZY. The fact people talk to indigenous folks like this with a STRAIGHT FACE and genuinely--genuinely --believe they're good people IS CRAZY.

Palestinians have every right to be pissed at Americans who act like they know more about THEIR OWN GENOCIDE than them. The fact that these posts with Americans ""dunking"" on people who critique kamala get thousands of views like it's some sort of fucked up entertainment is disgusting.

Shame on all of you. Do better and stop treating indigenous people like shit.

DONATE TO PALESTINIANS 🍉🍉🍉

@ma7moudgaza2 (14,192/25k)

Currently needs funds to afford food for his family of ten (mostly CHILDREN). A bag of flour is $1000 USD in the north and $150 in the south.

He's an incredibly kind soul and does his best to uplift other's campaigns while trying to help his own family.

I've made two post about his situation (at his request) that you can read here (link to gfm as well)

@palestinianhadeell (7,547/20k)

Widowed Mother who now has to take care of multiple children (which consists of her own mother and OTHER orphaned children) after the passing of her husband and her own miscarriage. She recently survived a missile strike on a car nearby on her way to buy winter clothes, but her boy was injured. Her daughter became an orphan at the age of three

Links to one of the more recent posts of hers are here along with verification and her gofundme

@monayazji (55k/200k) <- in Swedish Currency

Due to the polluted water in Palestine, her son recently caught an infection that turned some parts of his skin bumpy and red. The family desperately needs money to afford supplies to take care of their boy along with funds to afford medicine in hopes of it curing his alignment.

Pinned post linked here with verification

@yousefmadiblog (€535/€5k)

Yousef NEEDS funds in order to continue his education. University Laptops cost $2000 dollars alone in Gaza. HIS CAMPAIGN HAS BEEN STAGNANT FOR WEEKS. Education is ESSENTIAL in order to provide for yourself and your family members. His home has been destroyed and he needs the funds to pay for supplies and his online semester.

Link to his verification and gofundme post

@punkitt-is-here @ashwantsafreepalestine @dlxxv-vetted-donations @begaydodrughailsaten @90-ghost @gaza-donation-posts @gaza-evacuation-funds @free-palestine-forever @free-palestine

[zweiginator]

thinking about actor!patrick who's such a raw and natural talent but also the infamous fuckboy of hollywood. he's in a scandal every few months (leaked sex tapes, wild nights out), deuxmoi's favorite client and he's 99 % fucked half of his colleagues. he's irresponsible but charming and noone can resist him not even the goody two shoes hollywood newbie

like you get cast in a movie with him, you're in your early 20s and he's in his early 30s so it's not a crazy age gap or anything, but it's enough to raise eyebrows. because patrick is a bonafide pornstar in hollywood; he's had three leaked sex tapes, and plenty of cheating scandals (he's always the homewrecker).

so patrick gets cast in a new movie, some high-budget action/romance/mob ties film. they want him to be the main lead. patrick sells tickets. his body and face sells tickets.

but then he sees your name. he's never heard of you. has his manager look you up and when she sends your bio to him, you have the sweetest fucking face he's ever seen. you're gorgeous and not even 25. his manager can see the fucking scandal plastered all over TMZ before he has even met you.

you're nervous to meet patrick too. this is your first movie, and you even getting an audition for the main female lead almost made you piss your pants. so when you got the call that the role was yours--you were fucking ecstatic. that bliss was soon replaced with lingering anxiety when you found out you would be acting alongside patrick zweig.

and you told yourself, after committing to acting, you wouldn't become a hot-shot celebrity. you wouldn't change and become pretentious and hot-headed and high-maintenance. you were raised too well to throw it all away for some instant gratification and a hollywood party.

you wouldn't abandon your morals. and you would be professional.

but one of the first scenes you film is a kissing scene. just to vet the chemistry. they were sure it would be great, this was patrick fucking zweig after all. but you're nervous. you had pecked lips for high school plays and local theater productions, but nothing like this.

because patrick's shirt comes off and he's hovering over you. and he lifts your own shirt up with his teeth like this is a fucking porno. you remember it's all in the script, but god, he's looking at you like this is real life. you guess it is. patrick leans in; you smell his cologne and the tiniest hint of sweat from the hot day. and when he finally slams his mouth onto yours, he feels laced with something. because then your hands are in his hair and you swear he's grinding his cock into you. you arch into him and he's leaning into you and you're grabbing onto the wrist that holds your jaw in place for him. his mouth is opened so wide it feels like he wants to give you more and more of himself until he physically can't anymore.

"CUT!"

the crew hollers and whistles and patrick wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"well, I think that was a winner!" the director yells.

"good job. you're gonna be a fucking problem." patrick says, adjusting himself in his jeans.

you tell yourself it was just in the script. patrick's comment makes you flush.

but three nights later, you're in patrick's car tucked away in his private driveway, his fingers working your cunt open like they were made for it. and as your head tilts back and patrick latches his mouth onto your throat and whispers good fucking girl

you see a hot white flash of light.

Hollywood's Biggest Liability and its Hottest New It-Girl Caught Hot-and-Bothered in Blacked-Out SUV

your reputation is fucked. but, any publicity is good publicity.

[ravennaortiz]

Reconcile

Sequel to Stepping Out- A Happy Lowman Story

As always 18+

It had been a year since you had stepped foot in the Teller-Morrow lot. A year since you watched your husband shove his tongue in another woman’s mouth and then carry her back to his dorm to fuck her. A year since you had been humiliated, hurt, left to heal not just a broken heart but also a broken body. What should have been joy at you being cancer free had been nothing but sorrow.

Parking your car in the full lot you looked around. Maybe you should just turn around and leave. Before you could though a tap at your window had you jumping. Looking over you couldn’t help but smile at the goofy grinning faces of Juice, Half-Sack and Ratboy.

“You came” stated Juice as you stepped out of the car. “Well you asked so nicely and all three of you begged….several times” you laughed as he pulled you in for a hug. “We missed ya. Not the same without you popping in” he murmured before letting you go. You met his eyes and gave him a smile. He was right things hadn’t been the same on your end either.

You had missed them all so much more than you realized. They had made a good effort to visit and call but you had been cold and distant. Not wanting to be shown pity. Be seen as the one who had been cheated on. Seen as weak, unworthy, unlovable. So you had stayed away. Until Jax had called you a couple of months ago. He wanted someone he trusted to keep the books for the new strip club and porn studio the club had opened. He also wanted you to give lessons to the new hires, vet them out. You had said no at first. You didn’t want to see your Old Man. Jax had been quick to assure you that you never would.

The four of you made your way to the clubhouse door chatting like old times. You had missed this more than you realized you would. Stepping into the darkened interior of the clubhouse you couldn’t help but cut your eyes over to where Happy would always be waiting for you. You weren’t sure if you were sad or thrilled when you saw the spot was vacant. “Want a drink?” asked Juice his breath hot on your ear as his hand rested gently on your hip as he guided you through the crowd by the door. “Please” you replied as he maneuvered you two towards the bar where Tig and Chibs sat. The other two disappearing to the pool tables.

“Lassie!” hollered Chibs as he caught sight of you as you slid next to him while Juice hopped behind the bar to grab you drinks. “Good to see you Doll” greeted Tig as his eyes traveled down the corset top and short skirt you had on. “Hey” you greeted both men as you took the drink Juice offered.

“You look good” stated Tig. “That top really makes the girls…pop” he added his blue eyes glued to your chest. Chibs simply sighed and smacked him in the back of the head. You laughed and turned away shaking your head. You couldn’t deny you loved the attention. It had been over a year since anyone paid any to you. “What? Just a fact” grumbled Tig before he slid off his stool and made his way over to a darkened corner.

Your eyes watched him go. Maybe you thought to yourself it wouldn’t hurt to test the waters. The toys in your nightstand hadn’t been getting you where you needed. A tiny part of your mind wandered about Happy, but if he cared he wouldn’t have started this whole thing in the first place. The last year wouldn’t have happened. The two of you were locked in stalemate of him wanting to reconcile and you denying him. It had been a few weeks since you last heard from him so you figured he had finally gotten it through his big bald head.

Happy sat lurking in a dark corner. His eyes on you from the moment you had walked in. All his assets on display for everyone in that damn outfit. The tooth pick he had been chewing on had snapped as he clocked Juices hands on you. Who did that punk think he was? Touching his woman like that? It didn’t matter that it was obviously to help get you through the crowd. Happy was pissed. Then that asshole Tig pretty much drooling all over your tits. Suppose to be brothers.

Happy was fuming and seeing red when he felt someone sit next to him. “Go the fuck away” he barked not even looking to see who it was.

“Its your own fault” stated Gemma as she took a drag of her cigarette. Happy turned to her watching as she nodded towards you. “You had it all. Tossed it away. You only had to wait a bit and you could have been getting your dick wet in your Old Ladies pussy, but no you had to go down the dead end road of pussy.” She continued as she smoked.  “You don’t get to be angry with anyone but yourself Happy. Don’t start shit tonight with whichever brother she lets between her legs. And believe me at least one of your brothers she will be letting in.” finished Gemma before standing up as she patted his head. Happy stared in shock as he watched her disappear into the crowd.

A couple hours later

“Hey” you giggled as you collapsed onto Tigs lap dancing and grinding.

“Hey Doll” laughed Tig as his hands went to your hips. “Having fun?” he asked as he felt his jeans start to tent.

“Yeah” you murmured as you turned to face him. Your skirt rising up more as you moved. Tig swallowed hard as he felt your smooth skin under his hands. “These are for you….sorry they got a little wet” you whispered as you shoved your lacy black panties into the pocket of his kutte. Tigss breathing was picking up and he licked his lips as his fingers kneaded your bare ass. “What you playing at doll?” he asked as his your lips found his neck sucking and nipping as you ground your core onto the tent of his jeans. Tig groaned as he looked around. He wasn’t sure if he wanted someone to help or to make sure no one could see.

“I want you to fill me up Tiggy. Make me cum on your cock” you murmured as your fingers found his belt buckle and started working on. “Fuck” muttered Tig as he stood up quickly. Checking to make sure no one was paying any mind he carried you into the hallway to his dorm room.

“Fuck love” muttered Tig as he sat your ass on his dresser as he undid his jeans as his mouth found your neck. Sucking at the pulse point as you used your heels to push his pants and boxers down. Tig moaned as his cock head pressed into your wet slick. “Fucking so wet already” marveled Tig as you whined and bucked your hips to push him in more. “Fuck me Tig” you begged as he kissed down your neck and onto your chest.

Tig chuckled as he grabbed his cock to line it up but before he could thrust into you the door slammed open.

"How could you hurt me like this?' whispered Happy as he stood staring at you and Tig. The latter who was hastily yanking his pants back up as you rolled your eyes and laughed.

"You have no idea what it means to be hurt or feel pain Tacoma Killer" you snarled as you grabbed ahold of Tig and pulled him back to you. Effectively dismissing the man who had barged in. Tig looked between the two of you. “Maybe” he started before you grabbed his jaw turning him to face you. “Fuck me now. If he wants to stay and watch me take your cock that is his choice” you snapped. “Stepping out has consequences sometimes that is watching your wife cum on another man’s cock” you added your eyes boring into Happys.

Tig nodded and shoved his pants down quickly before slamming into you. “Fuck” you moaned as your eyes remained locked on Happys. Tig filled and stretched you in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Shit so tight” groaned Tig through gritted teeth as he started to slam in and out of you. Each snap of his hips the driving you further back onto the dresser.

Happy simply stood watching as you squirmed underneath Tig. Your moans and whines echoing through the room as his friend fucked you.

“Tig” you screamed as his fingers found your sensitive bud and pinched and twisted it sending you over the edge of pleasure. As your orgasm ripped through you your body fluttered and clenched around his cock until finally he was releasing himself deep within you with a feral moan. The two of you sat connected as you caught your breaths.

You moaned once Tig finally pulled out of you. Sitting up slightly you saw that Happys eyes were now locked onto your dripping pussy. Watching as a mix of your and Tigs cum dripped from your hole onto the dresser.

“I’ll leave you two to…talk” murmured Tig as he pulled his pants up before kissing your cheek and leaving the room.

“Seems I know how to pleasure a man” you remarked as you dragged a finger through your folds. Happy watched your finger gather up the mix of cum before moving up to your mouth. You moaned and closed your eyes as you sucked on your cum covered fingers. Happy closed his eyes as he fought to decide what to do or say. He loved you and he couldn’t lose you. He was the one who had started you both down this path, the one who had made you vengeful.

Opening his eyes he walked over and dropped to his knees. You gasped as he yanked you to the edge of the dresser his long tongue licking a strip up your slit before dipping into your hole. “I will lick and suck any man’s cum out of you for as long as it takes for you to finally reconcile with me. If that means forever then so be it” he stated firmly before latching onto your clit as he sucked and nipped gently. Within seconds he had you cuming on his tongue as you screamed his name.

Happy kissed up your body until he reached your lips. “I love you. I am so sorry I did this too us” he whispered before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. Tears sprung to your eyes as you grabbed his kutte and kissed him hard opening your mouth and letting his tongue snake in.

“Make love to me Happy” you whispered as you pulled from him and met his eyes. Happy simply nodded as he picked you up and walked you over to the bed.

[archangeldyke-all]

idk if my ask fell into the void (ignore this if not) but sevika and reader at their daughter’s wedding !! sevika is near tears the whole time until the “i do”’s come and so do the water works.

LITTLE FUCKER ALL GROWN UP????? they grow up so fucking fast dude...

men and minors dni

your daughter's been lucky in love.

despite her first girlfriend breaking her heart in high school (and narrowly avoiding getting murdered by you and your wife) it only took her three months to meet the love of her life.

the girl she took to prom (the girl sevika almost made piss herself in fear when she gave her a stern talking to that night) became the girl she went to college and vet school with, and then the girl she opened an exotic animal rescue with-- and now, she's the girl your baby's marrying.

sevika hasn't stopped crying since she found out they were engaged.

at least three times a week, you've found sevika in some corner of your house, blubbering as she holds one of little fucker's old shirts or toys or the sack of laundry she dropped off because half an hour ago because she's almost thirty but still too fucking lazy to do her own laundry.

it's ridiculous. it's making you fall in love with your wife all over again.

"oh, sevvy." you coo as you reach up and wipe away the tears streaming down her cheeks. it's the morning of the wedding-- a small little backyard affair at you and sevika's house-- in the garden she's been building for decades.

the brides are getting ready in your basement with all their friends. your future in-law's parents are in little fucker's old room. you and sevika are in your room, getting ready and putting on your 'host' faces as you prepare for the guests to arrive.

"babe, i don't think i can put any makeup on today." sevika chokes out through her sobs, patting her eyes dry with tissues. you giggle.

"probably not." you snort, kissing her forehead. "unless you wanna look like a water-color painting in all their wedding pictures." you tease.

"ugh-- like you'll be any better." she sniffs, smacking your shoulder. "once i get going with the tears, you're never far behind me."

she's right. sevika and your daughter-- those are the two people who can always get you blubbering when you see them cry.

it's a beautiful wedding.

you and sevika wear matching dark purple outfits-- purple and pink being the colors of the wedding. you both walk your daughter down the aisle, you on her left, sevika on her right.she looks gorgeous, just like sevika did thirty years ago, wearing a beautiful lavender suit and a lacy white shirt underneath.

your daughter in law wears a flouncy, lacy baby pink dress, that matches the exact shade of the bright pink blush that blooms on her cheeks as you walk your girl toward her.

sevika cries so much you worry she'll pass out from dehydration.

during the entire ceremony-- officiated by little fucker's godfather, silco-- sevika's hiding her face in your shoulder, staining your beautiful purple top with her snot and tears. she'll look up for a moment to try and capture the moment, and then she'll let out a wobbly sob and have to bury her face against you again to muffle her cries.

it's not that she's sad. well, it's a little that-- this means it's official-- little fucker's all grown up.

it's that she's happy.

later in the evening, as your daughter in law's best friend's band plays on your patio and your family and friends dance around you in a tent propped up in your yard, sevika explains it to you.

"y'know. never in my life did i think i'd have anything close to this." she says, shaking her head. "and look how fuckin' lucky i am. look at our beautiful baby-- look how fuckin' happy she is. look at this house, look at these people, look at you. none of it woulda happened if i hadn't met you and i just--" sevika cuts herself off choking on her words as tears start to well in her eyes again.

you laugh, then wave down one of the bridesmaids to have them fetch sevika a water-- seriously concerned where she's finding all her tears.

and then, in the early hours of the morning when the party's finally over and you and sevika can collapse into bed beside each other in an empty home-- you reach across your bed and squeeze sevika's hand.

"hey." you whisper.

"yeah?"

"what you were saying earlier... it got me thinking."

there's some shuffling as sevika turns on her side to look at you in the dark. "'bout what?"

"wanna renew our vows?" you ask. "we had such a tiny wedding the first time around. could be nice to get all the friends and family we made in the past thirty years together to do it all over again."

sevika cackles, loud enough that a bird outside your window squawks and flaps away. you grin at her. "really?!" she gasps.

you shrug. "we'd have to wait a few years so we don't piss the girls off by, y'know, gettin' re-married right after them." you say. "but yeah. we've got nothin' better to do, no kid, retired-- we might as well plan somethin' fun in our free time."

sevika just launches forward to kiss you, and you snort when you feel more tears against your cheeks.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie

[sleepyboywrites]

@justkeepscrollingscrolling

Hey all! In case you missed my last post Tumblr updates ruined my life and asks no longer allow you to save as drafts and then update them. Since I normally don't write all in one session I have quite a few in my drafts currently that I have to get creative in actually answering so that you all still get notified when I get around to your asks. Moving forward I'll just answer in one go but for older asks (ones before I noticed/before the update) will be answered like this! Also I haven't written in a while so I apologize if it's shit.

Save a horse ride a cowboy

Masky knew you were raised on a farm. His favorite, albeit slightly teasing pet name for you was 'Cowboy' or 'Farm hand'. He's seen you carry corpses of fully grown men in one arm since joining the proxies. He had confronted you on multiple occasions how and why and you had replied. "I've hauled hay when our tractor broke and carried a newborn filly to the truck to rush to the vet after she wasn't walkin'. I can hold my own Darlin'." And he had been oh so kind to remind you who you belonged to for your lip and sweet farm boy ways. Yet he still sometimes underestimates your strength and in all honesty it's your own fault.

Play fighting and rough housing was nothing at all new. Mostly because Masky suffers from cuteness aggression and you, farm boy, are sturdy enough to handle it as well as dish it out. You two did it so often that if you didn't people assumed you were fighting fighting. On top of this you had a bad habit of letting Masky win because he's just so cute all smug on victory and everyone likes to be shoved into the couch face first by their partner sometimes cause being manhandled is just as fun as manhandling.

That is until one day, a really busy one, you didn't really have the time nor energy to let him win.

Masky had been extra annoying today. Poking and proding and shoving and basically all over you. Normally no complaints whatsoever but you had a shit ton you needed to get done. The list of cleanup tasks you were assigned today was two pages long and with your boyfriend attacking you at every turn in some form of cuteness aggression taking over and possessing him the second he saw your face, you getting fuck all done. Cleanup from the cannibals of the mansion plus the targets of the main proxies (because apparently scrubbing the remains of EJ's lunch off of the kitchen walls for three hours wasn't enough to deal with) had made for an unusually large amount of work for the sole cleanup crew member, you, and you were over it. So as Masky tried to tackle you in greeting for the fifth time today hoping to instigate you to wrestle him and to in turn win and coerce you to get a little 'closer', you just held your ground picked up the corpse in one arm, pried his arms off with a "Hold on Darlin' I have work to finish and I'm running behind. Later." And walked away.

Masky had stood there for a moment with a confused look on his face before the realization struck and he remembered his view of you and your 'softness' was heavily skewed. But once the shock disappears he became determined to genuinely tackle you. Stalking, lurking, and hunting you as you attempted to finish your work as Cleanup. He had proven himself to be quite the pain in your ass as you avoided his attacks and eventually lost him all together getting to finish the long list of tasks you had been assigned. You took a shower changed clothes and were scrolling on your phone on the couch when you finally sensed him again.

His vaguely pissed off and irked in general aura slowly approaching you from behind. You pretended not to notice that he's approaching and place your arms over his as he hugs you, clearly mopey, from behind. "Hm... So we're doing angry cuddles now, are we love?"

Masky didn't reply shoving his face into your neck, you could feel his intrusive thoughts to bite you, his hesitation to do so. Masky begins walking away from you and into the kitchen.

Without warning you chase after him and pick him up as he shouts and squirms playfully trying to escape your grasp and flip the script, "Look, I'm sorry I was avoidin' you, 'm not angry at you darlin, I was just overbooked on what needed done. Now quit your moping." You explained as you threw and pinned him to the couch. Masky going fully silent and still as you pin him down, giving you an odd territorial and excited look. "What?" You ask as he stares up at you, an eyebrow raised.

"Save a horse..." He replied looking you up and down. As it slowly processes in your head what he's referring to and you scoff and chuckle as you shake your head.

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship-coded. part 2 of a sort to this meet-ugly. reader is a doctor and knows nami from her past.

“So what you mean to tell me right now is that you’re calling me when the medicine floor is full to bursting to admit a… reindeer to the hospital?”

You keep your voice neutral and professional as you talk through the transponder snail, who has picked up the characteristic protruding ears of one of your closest friends and coworkers.

“It’s complicated.”

You grimace.

“I’m not a vet, bestie, and neither are you.”

Your friend pauses on the phone for a moment, and you can tell the full force of the ridiculousness of the situation has finally hit him, but there was desperation in his voice, so you bite your lip, waiting for his response before you agree to go see his patient. Hopefully, it won’t take too long, you think, given that you’re alone managing the unit for the rest of the day.

Out of kindness, you sent your intern home early about an hour ago, thinking that today would shape up to be a quiet Sunday, possibly a piss poor decision. Things are still relaxed however, and as you gather up your things to leave the workroom, you listen intently to the rest of your friend’s report before you formally take a look at the purported animal patient. 

“Its friends say that it apparently has a more human form, even if it looks the way it does today?”

Human form? “You think it’s Zoan Devil Fruit maybe?”

You’re marching down the stairs, almost tripping on the last two, when he replies, “Typically they revert to their human forms when they’re sick though, this looks like the opposite.”

“Humans are animals, too, I guess,” you muse. He doesn’t answer immediately, and you hear a sudden commotion in the background. 

“Shit, gotta go,” he offers and he’s immediately off, and you watch the Transponder Snail stop responding. Setting it down at a nurse’s station in the emergency department, you locate the bay you were told to check in and find a bunch of people huddled, but not resuscitating, a few nurses clearly idling and chatting. 

Pushing through gently until you can introduce yourself, you give your name, 

“Hi, I’m Dr. ___”-

And before you can even pull back the curtain, the first person you see is not the reindeer that is sprawled out, eyes closed but still breathing with a steady, stable rhythm, but one of the most memorable people from your childhood’s striking tangerine hair, and you lose your breath temporarily. 

“No fucking way,” she says, rising, and you, also shocked, in her all the memories of the past you try so hard to erase in your day to day, rushing back, until she throws her arms around you, and you throw your arms back around her. 

She’s supposed to be in disguise, and later she’ll admit to you that it’s because she has a terribly large bounty on her head, but you don’t forget a face, especially around the eyes. 

Even if it’s been years and years.

Sniffling, you pull away and thank her, before turning your attention to the bonafide reindeer - admittedly the cutest one you’ve ever seen - with a high fever sitting in front of you.

“Hey, Nami�� tell me everything you know about him,” you say, your voice warm and thankful. “And let’s catch up later.”

—

“You know, part of me always wondered what became of you.” Nami states, once the three of you have been situated in a proper hospital room, an IV drip started by a somewhat reluctant nurse while other floor nurses and staff peer curiously through the window. You smooth the wrinkles in your scrubs and smile at her again, taking in the fact that the last time you saw each other you were just on the verge of turning 14, and you’d been trying to help her store a load of jewels she’d swiped from a jewelry store.

It was the second to last time you ever used your Devil Fruit powers for wrongdoing, and you try not to think about the true last time. 

“I didn’t really imagine you’d become a doctor after all that,” Nami teases.

“It’s in my blood apparently,” is your simple response, one that warrants elaboration in the future. You tap the tubing of the IV and take another look at the young deer-man before you, who Nami says is named Chopper, pressing a finger to his calf to check for leg swelling briefly, then look back at her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a pirate now.”

You blink.

“I thought you hated pirates.” Your voice has softened into a whisper.

Nami smiles, the kind that seems to hold back a story that is far too grand to share all at once.

“And I thought you were a drug smuggler,” she says, with a wink. Your mouth opens and closes for a moment, and you say nothing else. Now is not the time really to explain how you got out of that situation, the least of all reasons because there could be prying eyes. 

Changing the subject quickly, and also due to curiosity, you sit down ahead of her and ask for her to share to avoid having to spill your own dirty laundry, and your scheme works, as Nami recounts her years since the two of you parted ways and the pirate crew she’s grown to know and love.

And you hear one name more frequently than all the rest.

—

You take care of Chopper for three days and match a few more names to faces - Sanji, who somehow manages to toe the line of sexual harassment with all the nurses but never actually tips over it and Usopp who you wish would talk less and listen more. You have to admit that there’s a charm to the two of them that complements Nami well, even if she seems to be yelling at them half the time, and your talks with Chopper during rounding are fascinating as soon as he gets better. After the initial shock of a talking animal, you find that he is highly intelligent (probably more so than you), very susceptible to praise and also very kind. 

Linking the four together is that same quality, kindness.

—

“Don’t you think maybe you’re trusting me a bit too much?” you muse, your thumb running the rim of a cocktail while Nami sips on her own drink, and Chopper a glass of freshly squeezed juice. “You do have insane bounties on your heads and I might not be the same person you met years ago.”

“I doubt you’ve changed,” Nami says somewhat confidently. She looks around at the tavern, and with the lack of wanted posters on the walls anywhere and the relative reclusiveness of this town, her guard is down. She leans in. “Unless you’ve set us up already, and in that case perhaps I’d have to kill you.”

There’s a short pause, and the two of you burst into laughter, even if Chopper for a moment looks between the two of you with a mild concern.

“I’m glad you came with me today though, because I haven’t been here in a week since there’s a weird guy I’ve been trying to avoid here and I was starting to miss the food.”

Nami’s eyebrows raise.

“Oh, what does he look like?” 

“Like average height, dressed like it’s summertime, and-” you pause and duck.

Speak of the devil.

“Ugh, he’s here,” you whisper from practically under the table. Nami takes a look back, and to your horror she waves.

And her illustrious captain and your meet ugly collide into one person with a big wide smile.

“Great to see you again!”

It finally occurs to you that the names were the same - Luffy.

[velvetures]

Can we please have a cute gaz fic where they are pining on each other and everyone on base is naturally done with their shit ;))

Take It Easy

A/N: This isn't exactly... "spicy", because I used a trope that shot myself in the foot. Anyway, I hope you're happy with how this turned out. If not, let me know. I really love writing for Gaz, and I'd like to get more practice in and feel his character out to where it's more accurate. :) HE'S SO DAMN CUTE IN THIS PIC!!!

Summary: You've always had a thing for Gaz... and he's felt the same way. Everyone else knows it, but it takes a little shock for you both to figure it out.

T/W: injury description, some heat but no spice, suggestive content, Price being a mood-killer, not proofread.

Kyle Garrick is well known as a man of few words, but immense power of action. He’s typically not going to have a handful of words on any topic at one time, and if he does, it’s definitely worth listening. Getting his point across isn’t hard though. Between his very expressive face and the far more interesting use of his hands and touch. Gaz very often employs the use of pats, nudges, hugs, and the occasional slap to ensure you’re on the same page with him.

The problem is, that it made your crush on Kyle that much harder to cope with. You spent so much time around him that it was almost impossible to go more than a couple of hours without touching him in some way or another. By it his knee up against yours sitting on a couch, a hand holding to the back of your parachute before a jump, or putting an arm around your waist to yank you out of harm's way. Rationalizing that he did it for nothing other than practical purposes helped take the edge off. Yet a small crack in your heart deepened when you had to remind yourself that he probably didn’t mean anything by it.

From the first week you met him, Gaz instantly had you wrapped around his finger without even trying. Just seeing him smile at one of Soap’s jokes or hearing him laugh practically melted you down into your boots. Even in his less-than-sweet moments, that little voice in the back of your head and the pulse between your thighs got heavier when you saw him coming out of a mission; dirty as fuck and panting, a hardened look in his eyes and sweat dripping off his face. Perfection, in your opinion, fell short when describing Kyle. Unbeknownst to you, there were plenty of reasons for him to be just as nervous around you.

Smart, skilled, and downright sexy… it was a total package for Gaz, and he always felt like attempting to make a hint or ask you out on a date just to see what your reaction would be. Talking wasn’t his best skill though, and when he was around you there wasn’t a single thought in his head that didn’t revolve around a subtle scream of frustration that he couldn’t just get you alone for more than a couple minutes. He loved how affectionate you could be after working in the same footsteps as himself and the other guys. Plenty of reasons and experiences to leave you jaded or downright pissed off with the world. Managing to keep himself from falling into that same trap got a lot easier after you came around. And maybe it was self-serving, but Kyle liked the idea of keeping you for himself so he’d never have to feel that way ever again. Admittedly, he thought about it a lot. Being a lot more than just a partner.

Through a few mistakes on paperwork and simple logistics, you’d been asked to stay behind for a mission. The 141 had not been expecting the loss of a teammate, but you’d been very quick to reassure them that before you’d come along, they managed just fine and this time would be no different. Besides, it wasn’t supposed to be more than a capture and kill of three terrorist organization leaders causing a bit too much trouble and making everyone nervous. All the intel was vetted multiple times, and you’d even been able to sit in on the briefings up until the last minute before they left. So it was a shock when they came back dirty as hell, half of them covered in blood -not their own- and Kyle hardly able to walk on his own two feet with a massive hole in his t-shirt soaked thoroughly in blood -of his own. You couldn’t have been out of your seat any faster, pushing right past Cap and Soap, shouldering Ghost’s massive body out of your way and staring up at Kyle with wide eyes and a worried look.

“What the hell happened to you, Gaz?” Instantly your hand was pressed softly against the hole in his shirt, feeling thick bandages taped up around the area just left of his abs and below his chest.

“Jesus... you got fucking shot?”

Your mind was already spinning, trying to figure out why he wasn’t in the hospital or at least in the medical wing of HQ getting professionally looked at, instead of standing here like a used gun range target. Kyle watched you with a bit of surprise, looking over your head to see the others staring with wide grins and Ghost shaking his head disappointedly. There was no denying that they all knew how he felt about her, but this was a lot more attention than he was used to getting. Not that he didn’t enjoy it. He huffed a little, putting his hand over yours and taking as deep of a breath as he could manage with bruised ribs and internals.

“Nothing awful, small round,” He attempted to soothe you, but apparently hearing what kind of round wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Your face twisted in anger and hurt, and you looked up at him like a kicked little puppy. It made his heart clench, and not because of his injury.

“Easy… my vest stopped the majority, okay?”

With that, he pulled up the hem of his shirt just enough for you to see that there was minimal blood soaking into the gauze and padded patch over him. It made your cheeks heat up, seeing him quite like that right in front of you. But you tried to swallow down your nervous energy and nod. Kyle just smiled, pulling you just a little closer to him with an arm wrapped around your shoulders, burying his face in the crown of your head with a stiff sigh. You were always so damn sweet… worrying about everyone but yourself. But this felt a little different than normal. He didn’t know why, but that feeling alone possessed him to press a soft kiss to the top of your head, lingering there just to make sure you knew exactly what he was doing before pulling back.

“No more missions without me,” You say quietly, hand fisting in his shirt. “I mean it, Kyle.”

You saying his name was new too.

You hardly ever called him that, and when you did there was a damn good reason for it. He’d always found it endearing realizing that you saved his actual name for occasions when a nickname didn’t feel personal or affectionate enough. Although you didn’t have a call sign like the rest of them, he just murmured your name back into your hair, rubbing one hand over your head softly. Gaz understood that even though he’d not meant to, him coming in without warning of what happened actually scared you quite a bit, and it made him feel really guilty for not thinking that it could affect you any more than it did him. Fuck. He was still alive, and walking… There wasn’t much else to be worried about in the grand scheme of things. Yet feeling you cling to his shirt helped him come to see that it might not only be him who had feelings deeper than two regular operators might share.

“I promise, love.” He squeezed you affectionately; Both of you knowing damn well he’d told a lie just to ease your upset. Yet that was exactly what you needed, and Kyle couldn’t think of anything more he wanted to give you. Well… maybe a couple of things crossed his mind. But that could wait for later. At least until he could actually sit down and stand up without his whole torso burning. He kissed the top of your head again, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo and feeling a touch of dampness like you’d not been out of the shower very long ago. It settled in his mind and bones, helping take the edge off of a long day and the remnants of adrenaline still rushing through his blood.

“Hate to interrupt the party,” The Captain’s dry and somewhat flat tone reminded the both of you that you weren’t in a private room. And that everything had been said under Price and Soap’s watchful eyes. Ghost was long gone, already knowing damn well what was going to happen. He’d already seen it long before either of you quite recognized it, and didn’t feel like staying for the re-run. “But if you don’t mind… finish that shit somewhere else. I’d like to drink my whiskey without all the extra… affection. If you don’t mind.”

Gaz stiffened, and you couldn’t help but blush. It’d been nothing short of instinct, seeing him visibly the worst off of the squad. And now that you were sure he was going to be okay, it had made a lot of little questions in the shape of missing pieces suddenly snap right into place. Unfortunately, it appeared everyone but you and Kyle were already more than finished with the topic and were honestly just hoping you’d figure it out. Price definitely didn’t think it would take Garrick getting shot for you two to stop running circles around each other, but now that was taken care of. So he didn’t have to be so subtle anymore. And neither did Soap, who gave a deep whistle and wink before shoving his hands in his pockets and disappearing down the hallways towards his own room.

“Come on,” Kyle nudged you gently. “Got a couple things I want to talk ya about.”

Walking sheepishly past Price, who’d already poured a few fingers of whiskey shot a somewhat dryly amused look in your direction before settling down in a chair with his feet propped up and a cigar pinched between two fingers. You expected Kyle to ease up a little once around the corner, but he was still hot on your heels with a hand lingering on your lower back, silently guiding you in the direction of his quarters. Patiently, he whispered the code to his door in your ear and waited for you to open it, holding it so he could go inside without having to put too much weight on his ribs or upper body.

He apparently, had different ideas though. The moment the door shut, you were up against it, and Kyle’s chest flush with yours.

“Question one,” His breath had gotten a little heavier, fanning against your mouth and a hand sliding down from your waist to the swell of your hip. “How long?” You couldn’t help the sensation of heat that wavered up through your body, knowing exactly what he wanted to know. It would be hard enough to lie and give a respectable answer, but telling the truth could be just as nerve-wracking to admit.

“Day Two,” You answered back quietly, looking up at him a little timid. “When you showed me around the base. Thought you were so damn hot… You were wearing that grey and white three-quarter-length t-shirt and jeans…” The image was fresh in your mind, and damn if you still didn’t get excited when he wore that same outfit. Gaz gave a breathy sigh of amusement, grunting a little when he leaned a little too hard against you.

“Fuck… wanted you since Somalia,” He panted, nose brushing against yours and his breathing getting a little more labored. “Couldn’t stand everyone staring at you walking down the street after the mission. Knew everything they were thinkin’… Cause I’d already thought it. Wanted to take you right then and there, show them you were mine.” His hand on your hip tightened, pulling you flush against him and the other arm putting a deep arch in your back. Needing every inch of your body against his despite the discomfort in his ribs rising. He tried lifting you, but quickly grunted lowly out of frustration, pausing your shared excitement as you held your hands against his sides protectively.

“I’m not going anywhere, Kyle…” You whisper, raising up on your toes to meet his height a little easier. “Let’s just take this slow… alright?”

You pressed your lips to his, smiling happily when he began trying to take over. Pushing, pulling, whining, and desperately wanting to handle you a bit more but is very restricted by his own injuries. It was hard balancing the desire you knew he had and keeping him from hurting himself even more than he already was. It was a tedious process, but one you utterly lavished in, and hoped would never end. He just felt like everything you’d dreamed of and more. Tasted like honey and brown sugar with a voice that got more whiney and soft with each kiss and gentle touch. You didn’t know how long you’d been wrapped up in his arms and exploring every inch of him you could when he finally pulled back with a raspy groan, pressing his thumb to your bottom lip with a rich chuckle and smile.

“M��not gonna be able to handle much more tonight, love,” He rolled from his uninjured side onto his back, pulling you along with him until tucked tightly against his side with your head resting on his shoulder. From this angle, you could see him staring up at the ceiling with a hardened, and somewhat embarrassed expression. No doubt upset that he couldn’t deliver at least a little bit more. But you couldn’t even begin to accept him pushing through any amount of pain for something that could wait even one more day. Carefully you rubbed your fingertips over his chest, tracing outlines of muscle and feeling little patches of hair on his chest and lower stomach. It felt like a fantasy, actually touching Kyle Garrick… You felt a little guilty for not paying more attention and limiting just how much you’d been physical. But for the most part, you’d been the more concerned with his pain tolerance while he just kept nonverbally complaining that everything he’d been wanting to do was being unfairly taken from him in a cruel stroke of bad timing and a lucky shot.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper, kissing his cheek and nuzzling the curve in his neck. “Should’ve stopped you sooner. I don’t want you hurting, Kyle. I care care about you too much.”

Kyle laughs, a little too hard for comfort, and holds his ribs with his free hand. “Love, you couldn’t have stopped me. I’ve waited too fucking long, and I don’t have much patience left. I just can’t even breathe hard… and nothing we could do wouldn’t make me… excited.”

Your cheeks went hot with embarrassment, hearing his voice lower at the thought. You hadn’t the slightest clue of exactly what he had in mind, but it was for sure that you wouldn’t be doing much of anything but getting your fill of Kyle Garrick anytime you could get your hands on him, and attempting to keep him from going back to the doctor again; having to explain how he re-injured himself. You giggled to yourself at the idea, and it caught his attention. His eyebrows raised in question and you bit your lip, trying to decide if it was worth telling him. You figured at this point, there was no use in not.

“I was just trying to imagine what you’d say if you needed to go back to the doctor… you know, if you hurt yourself with me.”

A devilish smirk plasters itself to his lips, and he shifts over just enough to have his lips brushing your ear. “You know I don’t talk much… I’ll let ‘em guess just what I was doing to you. I’m sure it’ll be more fun that way. Besides, you’ll have plenty of proof on you that I didn’t go easy.”

fuck i love gaz <3

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[bardic-inspirjaytion]

Why do you call your cat piss king? Is he really good at it or something?

hi anon!

we're gonna learn a bit about cat urinary systems and issues! it may be a bit TMI for the scope of the question but, given how few cat guardians know about this, I'm always looking for chances to educate since being informed can literally save a cat's life.

the main takeaway: if you notice that your cat cannot pee, HEAD TO THE EMERGENCY VET NOW, DO NOT PASS GO! full stop.

if they cannot pee, that is one of the few true emergencies in a healthy cat, and you NEED to treat it as such.

usually you'll see a blocked cat straining and vocalizing in the box, licking themselves, whining and highly reactive to being touched on the lower belly, and - of course - you won't see any proper urine in the box. there may be dribbles or blood, but no pee. this is a problem that escalates really fast, and can easily be lethal. do NOT fuck around with it.

what qualifies me to talk about this? it's exactly what happened to pekoe (peek for short) about three years ago.

proper Storytime and more detail below the cut.

see, the thing with cats is that their bladders are tiny and their kidneys are, uh, bad! so if they can't pee, not only is it incredibly painful, but the liquid and toxins building up in their system can do a LOT of organ damage in a VERY short amount of time. this can get very bad, very fast, and it is very easy for them to die from it if the issue can't be fixed easily and promptly.

usually, the vet will be able to get a catheter into the blocked cat to relieve the pressure, flush out their bladder if there's a physical blockage (ex, if they've made bladder crystals/stones, we gotta get those out of there!), and give them medication to prevent spasms and infection as they heal. a cat then needs to go on urinary-friendly food to prevent additional blockages for the rest of their lives, and some other lifestyle adjustments should be made to treat any underlying risk factors that the animal might have.

sometimes, however, that doesn't resolve the issue, and they block again. and if you're extra unlucky, they'll block AGAIN after that. and maybe again, for extra spice. if you're extra extra unlucky, this will all happen in the same week.

this is the situation that peek and i found ourselves in.

picture the urinary system of a cat as a funnel, with the external bits being the tip of the funnel. when you ultimately need to make a funnel bigger because it can't drain anymore, what do you do?

you remove the tip.

this is an operation called a perineal urethrostomy, or a PU for short. it's a last resort salvage procedure that essentially removes the external genitalia of a male cat to widen the exit of the urinary tract and prevent future blockages. it's a difficult and delicate operation with a very long recovery time. it was also the only option left to save peek's life.

real talk before this next bit: i will never judge pet guardians for impossible decisions made in good faith based on qualified medical advice, in the interest of trying to do what's best for their pets. flat up, i don't stand for that shit.

okay? cool, let's keep going.

a PU is definitely not a surgery that has any guarantees, it can be very painful, it needs a very skilled vet to do it, and it's both expensive and difficult to see an animal through it safely. it was also the one option we had left to save peek, who was very very VERY sick at that point. the vet told me that she was also willing to do euthanasia, if the PU was not right for us, with zero judgment - the little guy had been through a lot of pain and several surgeries already, and doing this operation would be asking a lot more from an animal that was already very weak, with no guarantees of success.

he was briefly stable so i took him home to think about it and sat with him overnight. hours in the darkened living room, with my fluffy best friend sleeping fitfully in my arms like a sick baby. in the morning when he woke up he gave me a little lick on the face, and then a headbutt with a weak but undeniably hungry little meow. he hadn't had an appetite in a week, but now he wanted breakfast. in that moment, i knew he was letting me know that he wasn't finished fighting yet, so i knew the right decision for me was to keep fighting for him.

i called the vet, and we went ahead with the surgery.

i'll spare you the rest of the grisly details - the procedure was a success, and i was lucky enough to be able to work remotely and nurse him through the recovery. it was long and difficult and stressful. it sucked! it was crazy making. i would break down weeping with relief every single time i saw a dirty litter box for WEEKS. if you're reading this and going through it yourself, please feel free to reach out to me any time, okay?

but we persevered. i took care of him, and he rallied like a goddamn king. and hey. anon. guess what?

that was almost three years ago. his life went fully back to normal after he healed. you wouldn't know that this had happened if you didn't already know, because that fluffy little king still pisses like a champion race horse.

so, that's the story of how pekoe became

THE PISS KING.

[followthebluebell]

Hey, is a Bengal/Savannah Cat cross a bad idea? These seem like a horrible idea to me but admittedly I don't know much about cat breeds

ohhh yeah, it's a bad idea.

so, a lot of this is pretty anecdotal and also based on ONE bad breeder. A few years back, I was very, VERY lucky enough to foster several savannah x bengal crosses. One of the first things that struck me about the cats was how fucked up their reproductive systems are. My vets NEVER had so much trouble spaying cats. Even the youngest cat had a uterus full of cysts, and that's weird as fuck in a 4 month old kitten. Some of it COULD just be piss poor breeding and shit genetics, but I can't help but shake the feeling that maybe crossing three separate species into a single animal could fuck something up reproductively.

Tempe was the worst off. She ended up having a closed pyometra (infected uterus). She was 9 months old or something like that. Her surgery was a success, thankfully, but she required a SECOND one due to an infected stump that managed to hide somewhere. Apparently her uterus and ovaries were just a tangled mess.

Behaviorally, they were all a little off. Again, these were animals that came from a profoundly abusive/neglectful situation so some of it could be blamed on that. I don't want to go into details because it's deeply upsetting. Their former owners were charged and found guilty of animal abuse.

But I want to talk about the cats more.

Here's a cat bed. It's one of those like vaguely croissant shaped beds, with a little hidey hole inside. You can see an extra cat-installed hole. That wasn't an original feature. Tempe had a toy mouse, see, and it made little squeaky sounds. It was UNDER the bed.

She decided the most direct route was to go THROUGH the bed. She made this hole and started pulling out the stuffing in around three minutes.

This wasn't an isolated event. None of them were allowed typical cat toys, because they would be torn apart pretty quickly. They were provided with dog toys instead (even my own Saia is like this).

All of the hybrids tended to just... Go. They never really stopped to think about things. They just went from off to on in an instant. Most had resource guarding issues to work through as well (this isn't an uncommon savannah trait; Saia's missed most of it, unless she's stolen some chicken).

This extended to other animals, tbh. A dog got into the yard once. The cats were all safe in their enclosed catios, but you can imagine that they were all pretty upset. Most of the savannah x bengals were ready to throw down, though. There was just zero hesitation. Tempe once caught a bird through the bars of her catio.

Again, a lot of this could be blamed on really bad genetics, poor socialization background, and a slew of other things. But I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, mixing three species into one is a Bad Idea.

[il-predestinato]

i just finished and that's how i foksmashed dad's championship trophy and i wanted to drop by and let you know how much i adored it!! it's so cute and i think you captured sassy's voice (or literally any other cat's lmao) perfectly. the concept was perfectly executed and i love how charles eventually won her over. 10/10 would read again to cheer myself up when ferrari inevitably fucks charles' strategy up. thank you for blessing us and i hope you have a great day 💖

Thank you so much! Aww you're so sweet. I had way too much fun writing as Sassy. 😸 And yep, it's Charles - how could he not win her over by the end? 😜

Here's a snippet to cheer you up when Ferrari inevitably fucks our weekend (please let this be a reverse jinx):

No matter how many hints she dropped ("Leaving fecal matter on his clothes is not a hint," disputed Jimmy with a disapproving frown. "Dad is going to make you take those nasty probiotics again!"), Pappje just did not seem to get the hint. She would scratch up one pair of his hideous jeans, and the next day, it would be replaced by three more - each one more hideous than the one she destroyed. At some point, she was worried that they were reproducing in his closet, spawning ever more ugly offspring jeans.

It was aggravating, to say the least. Max had her spayed, which was just unfair because whatever offspring she could have had would have been ten times more attractive than those ... unspeakable textile disasters.

Most infuriatingly, Pappje thought she was the one in need of medical attention - suggesting to Max every so often that they needed to change her diet, see the vet, and so forth because of her "accidents." She wanted to howl that her bowels were just fine, thank you very much, but he was the one who needed his eyes checked!

She was working on her latest project, clawing fiercely at a pair of paint-splattered jeans, mewling with satisfaction as her tiny claws tore small streaks in the fabric when the closet door slid open. Oh no -

Dad had caught her red-pawed.

"Hey, hey," rebuked Max, dropping to his knees to reach for the fabric. "None of that."

Max tried to gently tug the garment out from under her paws. She hissed in protest, clinging on despite his superior strength. Why doesn't he understand? She huffed in frustration. She was only trying to help Charles. He deserved better than these ghastly outfits!

"I know what you're trying to do, snoepje."

She blinked at Max in confusion.

He teased her under the chin. Reflexively, she purred into his palm.

"But if we love him," whispered Dad, rubbing her patiently across the whiskers, "and of course we do - then we love all of him."

Oh.

"Ugly jeans included."

She considered it for a moment. It was Charles who always brushed her hair with the gentlest comb, played piano lullabies for her during scary thunderstorms, and baked her favourite mackerel treats.

Lowering her head and feeling a little silly and contrite, she mewled in understanding and allowed the odious pants to slip out of her claws. Max patted the top of her head.

"It's sweet how much you try to look out for him. But maybe no more pissing and shitting on his stuff, okay?" Dad tickled her slumped form. "He suggested a colonoscopy for you the other day -" He chuckled at her alarmed squeak. "After I refused to spend €2000 on that, he accused me of not caring enough about you and said he would pay for it himself."

No, no - please, anything but that! The neighbour's terribly basic tabby cat got one last year, and it took weeks for his gassiness to clear up! She pawed and licked at Dad's hand in supplication.

"Don't worry -"

Max's reassurance was cut off as another head poked into the closet.

Charles beamed at them, sliding into the small space with Jimmy purring at his heels.

"There you are."

Sassy blinked at the sight before her and - well, she needed a moment to recover. Pappje was wearing ... what was to-date his most abominable combination of clashing colours and patterns. She suppressed the hairball that her gag reflex threatened to upchuck.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Charles, gesturing to his outfit with an eager smile.

Sassy emitted a small cough. (She was quite proud of herself.) She shot a sideways glance at Max, who to his credit, smiled indulgently back at Charles.

Pappje blinked expectantly at them.

Remembering how pleasantly warm it felt to wake up curled up against Pappje's chest that morning - and not to mention, the stack of allergy pills in the bathroom with Charles' name on them, the ones he took every day over the alternative of banishing her and Jimmy out of their bedroom - she knew exactly what to do.

She meowed her approval loudly.

It was utterly worth it as he smiled widely at her and pressed a light kiss to the tip of her nose. It didn't even matter that he then did the same to Jimmy, just so he wouldn't feel left out. She licked his thumb affectionately.

"You look perfect," added Max, and thus received his kiss too, a little longer and a little more lingering, but never mind because Sassy got hers first.

When Charles pulled away, Dad shot Sassy a wink - a perfectly executed one that Pappje was never able to mimic - and mouthed to her: It's our little secret.

She sighed contently. Anything for Pappje.

-

(end)

P.S. Charles' clothes are not that hideous, but Sassy's formative years were spent learning fashion sense from Max.

P.P.S. Pappje = Charles. Dad = Max.

(original fic)

[gryficowa]

Boycott!

Now that I have your attention:

[screamingcrows]

Fics for Gaza

After a lot of being terrified of it, I've decided to join @ficsforgaza in their efforts to encourage donations to fundraisers! I'll be joining by taking requests.

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Instructions

Rate: 1$ = 100 words (upper limit at 1000 words per request)

You donate to a vetted fundraiser and provide me with a screenshot along with your request. Please make sure your personal information is censored. I will be sending it to ficsforgaza to make sure you aren't using the same screenshot for multiple writers.

Please either send your screenshot and request as dm or an ask off anon (any anonomous asks will be ignored no matter if you've already donated or not)

Once I've confirmed the donation I'll get to writing! Please keep in mind that I am just a human and have a schedule, it will not be immediately finished.

Rules and regulations

I must be able to find an easily available age indicator on your blog. Minors and ageless will be blocked.

I will not be writing: pedophilia, scatophilia, piss, male reader (sorry but I don't think I'd do it justice), ships (as in pairings not naval transport), character x oc, hard stepcest, pregnancy, bigotry of any kind.

If you're unsure if I'm okay with your request, check with me before making a donation, please <3

1$ translates to 100 words, but I cap at 1000 words (10$) per request to not burn myself out.

Your request will be posted to my blog without your name on it, I will of course send you a message once it's been done.

What I will write

Anything not in the "I will not be writing" section, your request can be both sfw or nsfw, cuddles, an argument, whatever.

Characters:

Star rail: Dr. Ratio, Sunday

Genshin: Albedo, Alhaitham, Cyno, Tighnari, Dottore, Pantalone, Diluc, Neuvillette, Baizhu

These are just characters I have previously written for, if you have an idea for a character not on the list, pitch it to me before making a donation, I'm usually up for trying new stuff if it catches my eye!

Bottom line; let's be nice and respectful as we work together to raise money for this! If you have any doubts, my inbox is open <3

Example message:

Hi crow! I'd like to request Alhaitham scolding a gn!reader. I was thinking already established relationship and maybe it gets a little spicy? Here's proof of my donation [screenshot clearly showing your donation with personal info censored out] thank you!