#yes i am going to spam kitten photos

[unhinged-summer-fun]

common grounds (oshamir) - chapter 6

Pairing: Osha Aniseya x Qimir "The Stranger" Warnings lol: blood and violence <3

A/N: Dividers by @firefly-graphics

series masterlist

chapter 6: the masquerade

Was going through her sister’s phone unethical? Sure. Was this whole thing a huge fucking risk she shouldn’t be taking? Certainly. Was she doing it anyway?

Hell, yes, she was.

After going their separate ways, Osha turned over the half-promise she’d given the stranger two days ago. 

I’ll think about it.

It was a curse. Here, in the unforgiving clarity of Wednesday, she could think about nothing else. Training with someone who saw potential and value in her sounded better than heaven.

But he’d left her with no way to give him her answer. He told her he couldn’t risk stopping by the Temple as often as he had been. I am banned, you know.

That was how she justified this insanity. I have no way of getting through to him like normal, and Mae was the only person who regularly met with him. She’s the best bet for finding him. And besides, she’s been lying to me for two years; I deserve to be a little ethically questionable.

Even still, the air was thick with tension—but that could’ve just been steam from the shower.

None of the contacts she scrolled through looked like they fit the stranger. Would she even save his number in her phone? She checked the text threads next, her eyes entirely focused on the unsaved numbers. Perhaps resignation had her gliding past the threads with Sol, and the multiple group chats Mae was a part of—places where Osha didn’t belong.

She must have deleted his shit the second she cut ties with him.

Osha bit down hard on her lower lip to bury her frustration. Where else, where else…

NYAAAAA!

“Fucksake, Pip, don’t be a fucking narc,” she whispered, removing the kitten from the room and resuming her shady behavior.

Mae dropped a bottle in the shower, nearly sending Osha jumping out of the window in fright. It was a miracle she stayed quiet. She refocused, ignoring the slight tremble of her fingers. 

Oh shit, why didn’t she check there first?

She found the list of blocked numbers in Mae’s call records and, instead of screenshotting it and sending it to herself, took a picture of the screen with her phone. It was old school, but it left no trace.

One of these better be him.

Mae shut off the shower, and Osha quickly put her phone back where it had been and walked out of the room without looking back. She was jumpy through dinner, but since she and Mae still weren’t talking, she didn’t have to explain herself.

Afterward, she retreated to her room and performed a round of isometric poses to steady her nerves. It helped soothe the persistent ache in her leg immensely. The pleasant burn in her calf licked flames across where her ligaments usually felt brittle and iced over. Doing the exercises before bed was a double-edged sword: on one hand, she’d be warm and loose all night; on the other… it made her think of him.

The dreams left her feeling hotter than the exercises did.

What was it Mae said? You’re playing with fire? It certainly felt like it—but in this weather, she didn’t mind a bit of heat.

To temper her obsession a little, she gave herself only ten minutes to research each phone number from the photo. She quickly ruled out telemarketers, spam numbers, and various persons who wanted to contact Mae about her car’s extended warranty.

The last number on her list felt… different. It brought up zero results online, not even on a reverse number lookup. She’d been about to type it into her phone to send a probing text, but her ten minutes were up. She couldn’t get in over her head, lest the stranger consume too much of her life before she knew his name.

And what if this wasn’t even his number? She didn’t want to go to sleep disappointed if the gamble didn’t pan out. She saved the number in her phone as ? and tried not to think about it.

Everything seemed to have lost its shine on her next shift at the cafe. The coffee smelled stale, and she could not ignore her sticky hands like she used to. Every painful hour spent on her feet felt like an eternity. She needed something new.

She’d needed a lot of something new for a while now.

The silence between her and Mae continued at home. The next time family dinner rolled around, she excused herself. She only saw Sol and Mae at the Temple.

Even the classes Sol led felt off. Try as she might to put in maximum effort, she’d grown out of Sol’s tentative instruction. Her jabs landed harder on the heavy bags, some sounding like thunderclaps that split the empty air. Her legs itched to kick and thrash beneath her despite the backlash it would yield in the gym.

She even tried a few kicks on the bag in the apartment gym, which saw more of her the following week than in the last six months. What it didn’t see was the stranger.

The stranger had her fucked up. Big time.

She couldn’t rely on luck or coincidence when she wanted to see him anymore. Next time she got lucky, she promised herself, she would get his damn number at the very least.

“This is a shit idea,” Osha muttered to herself as she walked down the street. “You’re fucking nuts, Osha.”

She’d been so focused on watching out for black ice on the sidewalk that she didn’t see that the Unknown Planet neons were all off until she’d opened the front door halfway, finding nothing but pitch-black silence within.

Every light was off, save for one at the far wall from the door. Osha stepped back a little, letting the door fall shut. The operation hours stared back at her: moonrise to sunrise.

Under the perpetually overcast sky of winter, she couldn’t tell, but she was pretty sure it was a new moon. You can’t have a moonrise with no moon, she reasoned.

But then, why was the door still open?

Osha retrieved her can of bear spray from her backpack and flicked off the safety with her thumb. She entered the empty bar quietly, on cat-light feet. When the door closed behind her, the cacophony of the city changed to a stark, screeching silence. She didn’t dare move a muscle.

Her eyes acclimated to the darkness, her ears to the silence. Very faintly, she made out the sounds of raised voices, cheers, and jeers. She stayed alert as she crept around tables crowned with upturned chairs. She stopped to listen again when she reached the singular lit sconce at the end of the cavernous bar.

The noise had grown louder, but Osha could still hear the familiar ding-ding! of a match bell. Was there a boxing gym upstairs? Nobody at the Temple cheered that loud at the events hosted there.

A set of stairs she hadn’t seen a week ago led up to a steel door on a small landing. A tattooed and bored bouncer wasn’t looking down the staircase at her; instead, he was peering through the small window in the door, looking in on whatever was happening inside.

Osha pulled back into the darkness. What was she doing? She was in an unfamiliar area of the city, chasing down hope of seeing a guy whose name she didn’t know, and she had no way of knowing where her damned curiosity would take her. She thumbed off the safety on her bear spray but kept the tube tucked in her sleeve just in case.

The bouncer frowned as she walked up the stairs. Up close, she could see two matching cauliflower ears, a split lip, and neck tattoos—and explicit confirmation that he was built like a brick shithouse. Osha met his eyes anyway, saying nothing.

“You’re coming in pretty late, miss. Half the fights are already done.” His voice was as gravelly and deep as she imagined, but the politeness took her a little off guard.

She tried channeling Mae as she told a small lie. “I was told the wrong time.”

The bouncer looked her over with a more critical eye, grunting. “Well. Hope whoever told you gets their shit rocked tonight.”

He opened the door for her, and she was instantly hit with a wall of noise. Hot air, humid from effort and shouting, hit her next, followed by the scent of sweat—and a little bit of blood. She tugged her hood over her head as she walked in, embracing a bit of stifling heat in exchange for a concealed appearance. It was doubtful anybody here would recognize her, though.

Though the area was centrally lit to highlight the festivities, she could tell this wasn’t a boxing gym—a fighting gym, but not for any discipline she knew. What she thought were people standing on the wall turned out to be body-opponent bags lined up with military precision. All the equipment was set with evident respect and intentionality, not a thing out of place as far as she could tell.

And in the center of the room stood a cage.

She’d done some research into what he’d been talking about. She knew most MMA fights took place in a fenced-in open-air ring, but those rings never had a lid. The cage walls were pretty high, about twice the height of the average man. It seemed less like a fighting ring for humans and more like an inhumane, fucked-up snow globe full of violence.

Surrounding it was a crowd of around seventy-five people, bunched so close it almost seemed they were part of the platform. Three sets of bleachers held the rest of the observers, and a half-dozen more leaned on the rail of a balcony overlooking all at one end of the cavernous space.

Inside the cage, two men fought with wicked-looking spears—halberds, if she remembered correctly. The crack! of the shafts connecting jarred her from her drifting fugue, and Osha approached the crowd so she wouldn’t be seen as an outsider and garner unwanted attention.

Was this where the stranger trained and fought? It had to be—one of the fighters slashed the other across the chest in a small spray of blood. Instead of crying out or screaming, the injured competitor groaned in frustration over the sound of mixed cheering and grumbling. It was the single most confusing reaction to violence she’d ever seen.

She got closer despite her self-preservation screaming otherwise. The heady scent of spilled blood hung in the air like incense, and this brutal, lawless place suddenly felt more sacredly profane than anywhere else she’d ever been. This was no church or temple, but it was powerfully holy nonetheless. 

Osha found a place for herself in the stands.

As the previous fighters left the cage and melted away into the locker rooms, two more took their place. The announcer, a tall, pale man with spindly old-man arms, called their names like a pro wrestling emcee. Some matches had both fighters wielding weapons; others only had one weapon thrown in the middle to be fought over for advantage. Very few matches were unarmed, and when they were, it was indescribably brutal to see. The rules of engagement became clear in one of those bare-knuckle fights:

First blood wins the bout but doesn’t stop it—only the timer, submission, or unconsciousness did. Only one submission happened during the night, and when it had, the crowd was in an uproar, near-humiliating the poor soul who didn’t want his shoulder dislocated.

It seemed that for legal purposes, some holds were barred here.

She traded off between watching the fight and watching the audience, and she couldn’t tell who was more bloodthirsty.

After about an hour of fights, some unspoken signal rippled through the crowd. All at once, a hush fell over the entire space, reverent as a moment of benediction.

“For our final match,” the announcer called, “we have moved away from spears and swords to return to Pure! NHB! Fighting!” The crowd joined in his excitement, rattling the old aluminum seats beneath her. A quick glance at the balcony showed it empty. 

“—I’ve got eighty on White-Top tonight.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Smiley can’t win every time.”

Osha listened in on the conversation beside her, keeping her eyes on the announcer grandstanding at the center of the ring. He vamped while two expedient workers squeegeed off the blood from the floor mat.

“If you’re still betting on that, you’re welcome to lose your money. The thing place worth placing bets on is in the inner-ring particulars.”

“Like what?”

“—bring you eight of the finest fighters this gym has to offer! In one corner, the rookie in yellow—”

“—Who goes down first, who does Smiley take down first—”

“The Dizzykid!”

“—and how long it’ll take to put ‘em down.”

Mild applause started as a shirtless man bounced into the ring. He did a hopping lap before settling against one of the corners. Rookie confidence, Osha’s fighting mind said. The yellow balaclava he wore looked fucking nasty, half stained with old blood. The two gamblers beside her spoke in unison.

“He’s going down first.”

She probably shouldn’t have laughed. She’d done her best not to draw attention to herself for the last hour of fights, but at the unanimous and bored condemnation of the Dizzykid, she couldn’t help herself. Luckily, the gamblers didn’t seem to hear it; even if they did, they didn’t care.

The announcer spoke through the rest of the introductions, men and women fighting in one bout together. Most of the contenders were fresh to this competition, but many bore scars that must have come from previous fights like the ones she saw before.

They all had ridiculous names, too: Dizzykid, White-Top, and a handful of others she didn’t care remembering.

The final two were introduced as repeat champions from the month before. The penultimate fighter, who wore a purple hood, was called Daybreak. She looked well-sunken into her role in the ring, all quiet confidence and restrained power.

“Daybreak was one of our two-left-standing last month and will get to defend her name and title just like her final counterpart: your nine-month reigning champion here to make it ten, the undefeated, the terrifying, SMILEY!”

The eighth fighter walked into the cage, and it instantly felt like she’d gone into freefall. Distantly, as if underwater, she could hear the crowd going wild for him. The seven fighters in the ring were already honed to precision, each beautiful and strong, but this one was heart-stopping. She clung to one solid second of denial before accepting the truth of who those huge, beefy biceps belonged to—

That was her stranger in the mask.

He wore a black balaclava. Stitched in silver to make a horrifying toothy smile, Smiley’s moniker was straightforward.

God, she hoped Smiley wasn’t his real name.

“Welcome, gentlemen—welcome, ladies.” The announcer addressed them directly, shifting from entertainer to referee. Osha did not need to strain to hear him speak because the room had gone quiet as a crypt in respect and anticipation.

The rules were simple: 30 minutes on the clock, eliminations by knockout, submission, or heavy injury.

“When you hear this whistle—” he blew a whistle four times.  “You will grab the cage with both hands and stand still until we drag out the fallen. When you hear this bell—” Ding! “The fight resumes. If you make it to the final two, congrats. If you don’t, it’s not my problem. Now: Fighters!” He blew his whistle four times.

Sixteen hands found the fence.

The announcer left the ring.

The crowd’s excitement built.

And when the bell went off—

Chaos.

Four of the fresh fighters descended on the stranger, hunting the biggest game in the cage. Osha watched in awe as he leaped straight into the air and grabbed the top of the cage. Two of the fighters whiffed their punches beneath him, and he came down right on top of them.

There were probably other things happening in the cage, but she could only watch him.

Brash and eager, the Dizzykid went down first, knocked out by the kick to the face the stranger gave him. White-Top went down next. One of the gamblers beside her groaned. Osha grinned.

The stranger was a blur in the cage, all his punches and kicks coming too fast for her to track at times. When he paused, facing away from her, her breath stuck in her throat at the sight of the thick, purple-white scar tissue slicing across his back. It made more sense now: why he was so dedicated to injury recovery and proper form.

Wouldn’t you, if you had your back broken in four places?

Her chance at melancholic reverie passed as her stranger continued to put down his remaining opponents. The other two had gone after Daybreak—if she went down, they might make it to the cage next month.

The bubbling energy of the crowd was infectious, and Osha gave in to the temptation to get a little reckless, joining the cheers. “Let’s go, Smiley! Put ‘em the fuck down!”

The stranger froze mid-swing.

Fortunately for him, the ref blew his whistle four times right then, and the fight paused.

Unfortunately for her, the stranger stalked to the closest fence near Osha. He held onto it but pressed closer, forehead against the chain links. He’s looking for me. The other fighters faced inward, but not him, readying themselves for the fight ahead.

His eyes blazed with heat as he scanned the crowd. He was like a rabid animal, an overheated gun, a bloody, jagged edge digging deep wherever he wanted to cut. When he found her, she felt it in her bones. She raised a hand and gave a cheeky wave, smiling.

He tilted his head to the side before sticking his fingers through the fence, waving as much as possible.

The body haulers left the ring.

The cage door closed behind them.

The stranger was still not looking away—

Ding!

The stranger took less than fifteen seconds to put down the remaining rookies, leaving him and Daybreak standing. The crowd rippled with unease. Even Daybreak seemed baffled, staggering a few steps back from the sudden total violence.

The stranger returned to where he’d been standing fifteen seconds before, pressing his face fully against the fence like Osha was nothing but inches away from him.

The crowd around her was stunned. “How’d he do that so fast?”

“Smiley is just playing with his food whenever the fights go longer than five minutes, isn’t he?”

“I think his first fight lasted eight.”

“How long was this? I can’t see the—”

“Three minutes?! What the—”

“Five takedowns tonight? Daybreak looks like she just shit her trunks.”

“Nah, Smiley respects her too much to—”

“I don’t think Smiley even looked her way tonight.”

Osha could feel eyes on her, but she didn’t look at them. She was still staring at the stranger. As the last bodies were dragged out of the cage, he drifted backward to the center for the results. After they were announced, he said something to the emcee, who nodded but didn’t seem surprised.

Daybreak and Smiley disappeared when they left the cage, and the crowd dispersed to mingle or otherwise leave. To avoid the curious stares, Osha found a dark corner to stand in. She’d become damn near nose-blind to the scent of blood, but the sight of it being squeegeed off the mats was still slightly morbid.

Someone approached her hiding spot.

“Are you Osha?”

It was the announcer. This close, he loomed—even taller than the stranger. Only then did she remember the bear spray in her sleeve.

“Who’s asking?”

“You can call me Mr. Wise. Smiley asked for you.” She could see the glint in his eyes. He was dangerous but in a different way than her stranger. “Will you come with me?”

Alarm bells rang like hell in her head, but she chose to dance along to the tune. “Lead the way.”

Mr. Wise led her to a small door near where she’d come in; stairs led to the level above and the bar below. It smelled more like cigarettes than blood in here. “Just up there. The black door at the end.” Then he left her alone.

At the end of the long, twisting flight of stairs, Osha found... dressing rooms? The landing she stood on was connected to a hall of doors, as well as an open archway to access the balcony from before. The doors she passed matched the balaclavas of the cage fighters: yellow, white, blue… and black at the end of the hall.

The first six doors were open and empty, but the black and purple doors for Smiley and Daybreak were closed. The second she stood before the black door, it swung inward, and there he was.

He’d taken off the mask. His hair was damp from the shower he must have taken, and some of it was twisted back out of his face with little fasteners, just like the night she met him. The body heat radiating off of him was felt even standing out there in the hall. It’d been six days since she last saw him, and the bright smile he gave her had her insides scrambling around like a game of musical chairs. Six days, and he still looked just as good as he did in her memory.

“Osha.”

His eyes burned with a fire she knew well—the last time she felt it, she’d been given a great shiny trophy and belt. Her stranger’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and she spotted the darkening bruise forming on his jaw. The cut on his cheek from several days ago had healed, and the bruise around it had faded from a red-purple to a pale yellow-green. One bruise out, one bruise in. That was the price of fighting.

“Tell me your name isn’t really Smiley,” Osha blurted out.

His smile widened. “I’m only Smiley sometimes. Come in; I was doing cooldown.”

He opened the door wider for her to come in. His dressing room was sparse but not gross like the others she’d seen in the hall. After all, this room had been solely his for the last ten months. She spotted a few things she recognized on the small table: the black hoodie, backpack, and glasses. Hanging off two small clips was the mask he’d worn to fight, dripping wet.

She approached it curiously. “It’s a little freaky, isn’t it?” she said over her shoulder.

“I didn’t choose it.”

She turned to look at him. He was in a pair of low-hanging sweatpants, barefoot. Red blotches bloomed across his body, lucky shots while he made felling blows. He was holding his hands over his head, stretching his biceps, triceps, and other muscle groups that looked too good for her to think straight. He stood very still for her while she looked at him, and a little zing of pride and power zipped down her spine.

“But… I have to win it again every time I wear it.”

She didn’t know what to say when she met his eyes again, her gaze snapping up from where it had drifted to the waistband of his sweats. He was smirking a little. Caught.

He moved them away from the potentially awkward silence by sitting on a yoga mat and resuming his cool-down stretches. She took a seat on the only chair in the room.

“How’d you hear about the fights?” he asked, falling into a deep stretch. His flexibility shouldn’t have set her heart to stutter, but she’d never seen a man go so deep in her life. The scars on his back stood out in sharp relief from this angle, and this close, she could see that they were a mix of traumas: surgery and injury twisted over themselves in a snarling knot with no end.

It’s what her ankle looked like.

“I, uh, didn’t,” she said after a few seconds of silence. He turned his head to peek an eye at her. Go on. “I didn’t even know there was a gym. I just wanted to go to the bar, but the lights were off.”

“And you just went in?”

“The door was open. And…” She pulled the bear spray out of her sleeve and showed it to him before putting it in her bag. “I wasn’t without protection.”

“Smart girl.”

She nearly choked on air but quickly recovered. When her bag was zipped, she crossed her legs and cleared her throat. “You don’t live in the city this long and feel safe without a can of bear spray,” she said.

“You could carry an actual weapon.”

“I’d prefer not to.”

“Why?”

“I’d probably hurt myself before I hurt anybody else.”

He released the pose and adjusted his grip to stretch his feet and ankles. She recognized the different stretch combinations he was doing—she did them every night before bed. Her mind threatened to teeter into that can of worms, but he pulled her out of it.

“Don’t count yourself out, Osha. What’d I tell you? You’re a lion.” When he gave a breathy laugh and showed her his languid smile, she recognized more than the exercises—she saw more of herself in him than anticipated. His goofy grin wasn’t just part of a conjured persona. This was how he truly smiled when he hit that fighter’s high. It was how she smiled.

“I didn’t mean to distract you earlier.”

He laughed at the half-apology, pulling his feet in for a groin stretch. He tugged his shorts up his thighs for better flexibility, and he watched her reaction from the corner of his eye. His expression said, now, who’s distracted?

“You didn’t distract me,” he said, giving her a break and looking down. You surprised me, sure. I thought I got my bell rung and was hearing what I wanted.” He leaned into the stretch, groaning softly at the deeper burn. “I was glad to see you,” he said tightly. She wondered how much of it was from muscle strain and how much was from emotion.

Her heart galloped behind her ribs. Hearing him speak like that, make sounds like that—god, she was in trouble. She took a shuddering breath and held it to try and get her shit together, but it only half-worked.

“I was glad to see you, too.” She could only see a sliver of his face, but she saw him smile. “I liked, uh, seeing you fight. I’d been wondering about it for a while.”

“Oh, I’ve been on your mind?” he smirked at her, but his expression wasn’t remotely malicious.

“Can you blame me?”

The stranger seemed pleased with her answer, a shared refrain from several conversations together. He released the stretch and rolled seamlessly onto his back, holding one knee to his chest. He lolled his head to the side to look at her, self-satisfied. “Why did you come to the bar tonight, Osha?”

He was going to make her say it. Bastard.

“Well, Yord hasn’t broken the espresso machine, and you said you weren’t coming around anyway. You haven’t been at the apartment gym, and I couldn’t find anything about you on the internet to track you down. You’re very hard to get ahold of, you know.”

“I know.”

“So the last place I knew you might be… was here. Well, downstairs.”

He nodded, idly tracing his thumb over his kneecap. It was distracting. “You’ve been looking for me, then?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Damnit, hadn’t she said enough for him? He blinked at her, lazy as a cat but twice as sharp.

Fuck it.

“I wanted to see you.”

He made a pleased noise, switching to hold his other leg. He settled into the stretch, breathing slowly like he was savoring those five words he’d dragged past her lips. “Have you thought about my offer?”

She supposed she’d gotten what she wanted. If she was pursuing him this hard, she had her answer. Why did she go looking for him? She wanted to see him. Why did she want to see him? Because she wanted to train—or perhaps another reason she wasn’t being honest with herself about.

He released his leg and sat up fluidly, kneeling before her. He rested both hands on his thighs and tilted his head to the side, considering her openly. Messy-haired, skin still bright and flushed from the fight, kneeling on the floor, he looked penitent, beseeching.

“What do you want, Osha?”

“In order?”

“If you wish.” His lips twitched, suppressing a smile.

She held up three fingers, ticking them off one by one. “In order: I want your number, I want a drink, and I want you to train me.”

CHAPTER 7

[iturbide]

I love how this whole chain went from:

grab your mini pitchforks -> grab the popcorn

really fast. Anywho, other than that jazz, how are you doing overall?

I will gladly take popcorn over pitchforks any day (the pitchforks are their own brand of entertainment, but the popcorn is always fun)

Other than that I'm doing okay, though! Still really excited that the Lodestar.sys zine is out (I still think my piece in there is one of the best things I've ever written), but besides that most of my energy is spent keeping track of kittens so other things have been put on the backburner:

I mean. Look at these little hellions.

don't let Hubert's murderous look fool you, Ferdinand is equally naughty

With them in mind, my bookbinding experiments have been put on the backburner for a while; I'm about halfway through my test copy of Crown of Shadows, though -- the signatures are all folded and stitched, the textblock has been sanded, the endpapers are attached (though I want to give the whole thing a final sanding to get things nice and even), and the covers have been cut to size -- and I think it's coming together really nicely so far! I'm thinking about kicking into it again this weekend, since I'd like to get a few copies of Proof of Life together to use as a testing ground for some cover stuff I want to play with before going all-out on the hardcover.

After Crown of Shadows (which I might make another copy or two of, just to keep trying my hand at the flat back book format, we'll see) I'd really like to do a copy of Heart of the Moon with a rounded back, since that one's so much bigger: Crown of Shadows clocks in around 41.5k words and I managed to fit it into 6 signatures (a little big for a flat back, but still reasonably in range for it), while Heart of the Moon sits at 60k and looks like it'll need 11 signatures total, making it a good choice for experimenting with rounding.

(Once I have a little more experience with different formats under my belt, I'd really like to start binding more of my favorite fics and trying to get in touch with the authors to gift them copies of their works; I'm starting with mine since they're just for me, so it's fine if they go sidways...though I guess if anyone would want a hard copy of something I've written, let me know?)

Aside from there, I've been thinking about picking up a video game again but haven't done it yet (again, in part because of kittens who are Too Interested in the TV sometimes). Choices are between Legends Arceus again since I still want a shiny Hisuian Zorua or two, Horizon: Zero Dawn since I picked that one up a while ago and still haven't finished out the damn intro, the latest God of War because it's all Norse mythology and I'm predictable, or Three Houses to finish out that Azure Moon playthrough and go back to Claude because I love and miss him...but I haven't committed.

Instead I've just been playing stuff in the background and occasionally paying attention. I had a craving for Retro Anime recently and picked up Detective Conan again (I love this comedy murder show but it messes me up sometimes, there are some heavy episodes). Also finished Spy x Family and I'm sobbing I love them and October can't get here soon enough because then I get both the second half of Spy x Family's first season and Season 3 of Mob Psycho 100 which I am so stoked for you have no idea. And lucky for me, Nona the Ninth comes out in September, which should tide me over until the new anime I yearn for arrives.

Writing has been stalled basically since the start of the year and continues as such. I'm still stuck with just chapter 7 of last year's Chrobin Week to finish, and I have a bunch of other ideas that I'd like to start exploring, both for Awakening and Three Houses (since I'm desperately missing Claude), as well as an original piece that I've been rolling around for years that's come back to the forefront recently. We'll see what if anything comes out of any of that, but it might just end up being a sparse year on writing.

Anyway yes that's my long-winded status update ramble

[sarasa-cat]

Last week and this week have been extra…

Just… extra.

And I am so tired and trying to get my own stuff done but because I am the one with (a) a flexible schedule and (b) no pending professional deadlines this month, and because (c) my partner in crime is or has been suddenly juggling an epic shit load of (mostly or entirely) unexpected high stakes deadline driven shit, it’s just madness around here.

Add in last week’s jury duty from hell to just toss more backlog into all of this.

Also, normally partner does all of the dinner prep/cooking but hasn’t been able to do that for two weeks. And next week is also overbooked which basically means 3 full weeks of august screwed over.

So I have been doing all of both of our Adulting shit plus extra Adulting shit that had to be done (maintenance on major appliances we depend on) while making calls for tradespeople who are not available to do things that are desperately needed. Just ugh.

Our landscaping guy is never available and giant invasive plants that literally grow a fucking foot per day I shit you not are BACK AGAIN and threatening to cut off our mail/package delivery — and yes, the last time it took over we receive NO MAIL beyond a nasty note from USPS. So that was two backbreaking days of battle that did not go well. my eyes swelled up from allergies.

This evening I was hoping to simplify the rest of this week by stocking up on our favorite healthy(ish) fast meal. BUT our local grocery store was just … weirdly empty especially regarding EVERY SINGLE staple item I normally get plus all of the emergency “brain can’t think, no time to do anything but toss stuff in the steamer” meal items. Like just— wtf why so many barren empty shelves and half the freezer aisle empty even though all the freezers were physically working? and it was way too late for me to go somewhere else. I was soooooooo disappointed and ended up getting a few crappy overpriced deli items that won’t last long and will be meh. But at least we have insta food for tomorrow. :|

I just.

Really get why so many people have dropped out of the workforce or have dropped to working part time bc I swear to fuckjng gawd everything takes 99x more effort to do these days.

Passport photos, for instance (both are about to expire). Never a hassle in the before times.

Took me a half the month to find a place that could do it and was open when both of us were free. Half the fedex/kinkos I visited said their system for making passport photos was out of order and the other fedex stores I went to were CLOSED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE AFTERNOON AND NOT OPEN ON WEEKENDS despite what their hours said online. And my partners schedule has suddenly been a complete fuckjng mess (as mentioned above) so finding time btwn 10a and 4:30p hasn’t been super easy especially when these fedex stores aren’t even open when they claim to be open according to their website.

Even stupid little things — small kitchen appliances and boring little house items are just becoming weirdly hard to find. Or really shitty quality.

Everyplace I go when running errands like that I just think — these stores feel barren and downgraded compared to the past. But then I look for stuff online and it’s even worse. Overpriced crap that is always a regret or stuff that sells out instantly and then it’s just “sorry, restocking.”

And don’t get me started with all of the rotting fresh fruit and veggies in the market.

And just try making an appointment as a new client or a new patient for anything. Dentist? Lol whatever. (One of my friends had the worst time finding appointments for a new vet for her kittens who needed to be scheduled to be spayed. Months of run around and no luck, and multiple cycles of them going into heat.)

The worst is that I have to keep my phone ringer on and that just means spam calls.

Phone rings: me hopeful that someone I need for something I need done is calling back.

Phone: spam call! Mwuahahaah.

Me: FML

I just feel exhausted all the time right now bc

Fuck

Just fuckjng fuck

I needed a long walk yesterday and was surprised how many storefronts are now empty or boarded up yet again.

And if this isn’t the visible results of economic downturn/recession than i don’t even want to see what a clusterfuck this will all become when the predicted recession hits.

Things are not economically well for much of anyone not on a solid regular salary (pay that is always the same and never calculated hourly) from what I can surmise and you cannot get anyone to do anything for you these days bc everyone seems to be in a state of fml. It’s just a giant chain of falling FML dominos.

Which is why I said I really get why many ppl have downsized their work hours or dropped out. Just living is a full time job these days and, actually, we have the money to pay for things. I am literally calling ppl saying “take my money plz just put us in your schedule for X.” I am really fuckjng tired— and cannot get enough of my own pro work done because of it. Bc the moment I am in the zone— ring ring— hopefulness— SPAM CALL!!!!! 😩

(This week: Sinks unclogged: 2; dishwasher pulled apart and unclogged plus boring cleaning and maintenance done: 1 — thank you dishwasher repair guy from 2 years ago who actually just showed us how to do it so I wouldn’t need his service despite being us being more than willing to pay for it bc who has the time or energy for kneeling on the floor in a twisted position for far too long? Isn’t this what service/repair ppl are for? Oh wait. Can’t get into their schedule anymore. Fml. )

[mysticmessingupmylife]

The RFA guys + V + Saeran reacting to MC having a daddy kink

yes hello it’s me, the submissive little shit back at it again with more dominance from our faves (i won’t do baehee in this as i can’t really imagine her having a mommy kink, so she would most likely kink shame you tbh)

((my first headcanon in months and it’s daddy smut, i’m not even sorry))

~jane

Yoosung

This boy is a switch, okay

It’s basically canon that he is often very submissive, but as soon as he gets jealous he gets super possessive and in my humble opinion dominant

Which means rough sex, including pinning you to the closest surface, hickies all over and the occasional spanking if he really needed to teach you a lesson

He needed to study for his final exams when Zen invited the RFA to see his newest musical, and therefore couldn’t join you there

He did however check his phone while taking a break and saw a selfie of you and Zen all over his feed, with crazy fans shipping the two of you

Taken over by jealousy, he had you pinned against the front door almost before you could even close it, attacking your neck with love bites as he muttered how you were only his

Seeing this side of your usually shy boyfriend always made you a stuttering mess, and before you had even realized it, you moaned out “daddy”

For just a moment he gave you his confused puppy look, before fully realizing what you said and blushed, his eyes darkening with lust

“That’s right baby girl, I am your daddy. No one else. Now go to the bedroom and be undressed in two minutes, daddy will make sure you remember that you’re his”

can you tell how much of a slut i am for dom!yoosung

After you were done he would be a blushing mess, as he didn’t even know he was into that

Although he would take control more often, he won’t be your daddy every time - but when he is, he takes very good care of his baby girl

Zen

Zen had gotten a role in a musical a few cities away but you were too busy to come with him, so he stayed alone at a hotel for two weeks while doing it

Even though the two of you made a point to call each other at least once every day, he missed you when you hung up to take a shower and decided to scroll through tumblr while he waited for you to come back

He knew you had a fan account on there and while he didn’t follow you because he didn’t want the spam from all your fandoms on his feed, he did check your account now and then

Totally not to see you fangirl over him, pff no

He scrolled quickly past the things he didn’t care/know about, a small smile on his face as he found it cute that you were so passionate about everything

That is until he saw a reblogged post saying “reblog if zen is is the reason you have a daddy kink - i would kill for him to call me princess and tie me up”

Flustered, he accidently dropped his phone on the floor and scrambled to pick it up

“Zenny? What happened, did you drop your phone again?”

You were obviously back from the shower, and the image of you naked and wet in addition to the idea of you calling him daddy made the beast within him groan with lust

“Princess, why are you keeping things like this from me?”

“What do you mean? What have I done?”

“You haven’t told daddy just how much you like being his little baby girl”

“I-I... I’m sorry daddy, I won’t keep things like that from you again”

“Hmm... Should I believe you? I think you should send daddy a picture of you to show him how sorry you are. Show me your apologetic look”

You tried your best to take a doe eyed selfie that showed how much he made you blush, making sure to show your clevage as well

“I don’t really think you’re all that sorry, princess. You should send me more pictures like that”

You heard his strict tone become a bit more relaxed as he started breathing heavy, and you hoped he was touching himself

You did as he said, trying harder to look innocent and sexy at the same time, and heard him downright moan when he recieved the picture

“Baby girl, facetime me now. You need to help daddy with something”

With that he hung up, leaving you kind of flustered as he had found out your ultimate kink, before you facetimed him and picked up where you left of

Jumin

You were trying to read a book and listen to some music while Jumin did some work in his home office, but Elizabeth kept playing with the cord on your headset

“No Elizabeth, stop it! Do I really have to go and tell daddy what a bad girl you are? Leave the cord alone!”

As you were listening to music and busy trying to distract the cat, you didn’t notice Jumin standing in the door until he chuckled

“Daddy, huh? i prefer that over ‘cat mom’, at least”

You blushed when you realized he had heard the nickname you used for him only around Elizabeth, and tried to play it off by lifting her up and talking in a baby voice, pretending to voice her

“But daddy, she is no fun! Your little kitten wants attention, and daddy was too busy to play. But I will be a good girl from now, I promise”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, kitten”

Jumin shaked his head in faked annoyance, but as he stepped closer you realized he wasn’t looking at the cat

You let go of Elizabeth and she walked away, leaving you alone with Jumin towering over you

“Good girls don’t blame others, my love. You’re the one who wanted attention, right? You’re the one who wanted daddy to play with her?”

You nodded and blushed more, trying not to show how much his words affected you

He caressed your cheek before gripping your chin and lifting your gaze up to meet his, wanting to know if you found this as hot as he did

“Let’s go get your favorite toys, then. Daddy will make sure his kitten won’t be bored for the next few hours”

707

He had been working for two days straight and you hadn’t even seen him leave the computer, except from the occasional toilet break

You were needy and wanted his attention, but he kept telling you off because he “just needed a few more minutes, then he would be done”

After a few more hours of this, you’d had enough and just plopped down in his lap, ignoring his furious typing

“MC, not now, I’m almost finished”

“But daddy, I’m lonely... Can you please play with me?”

His typing stopped and you could swear you saw his glasses shine mischievously for a moment

“Well... If my little princess is lonely, I guess I have no other choice but to play with her. Too bad you have been such a bad girl today, trying to distract daddy. How should you be punished, baby girl? Maybe some spanks on your cute little ass?”

You nodded shamefully, pulled your pants and panties down and repositioned so you were laying on your stomach over his lap, presenting him with your bare ass

You could only whimper when he smacked your ass without warning, before rubbing his hand over it soothingly

“Such a shame that daddy has to punish his pretty little girl... What do I have to do to make you listen, hm?”

He spanked you again and again with no mercy, until you were a whiny mess and tried to squirm free of his tight grip on your hips to save yourself from the bruises you knew would come

“Will you behave now, princess?”

As soon as he saw you nod, he picked you up bridal style and carried you to bed for your reward for being a good girl

fuck me up fam, he would be such a good daddy

When you woke up in his arms the morning after, he would already be awake and looking at you with heart eyes until your stomach growled, which would make him laugh

“Shut up, I’m hungry!”

“Hi hungry, I’m daddy”

Yes, he would use this as an excuse to say dad jokes

V

All he wanted was to edit a few photos of the two of you he had taken to make a card for your anniversary, but as he couldn’t find his laptop, he decided to borrow yours while you were out with some friends

However, as soon as he opened it up, he was greeted by the sound of obnoxious moaning and the sound of skin slapping

He quickly shut the computer again and hid his face in his hands, mortified that he stumbled upon the porn you were obviously watching

Deciding to respect your privacy, he really did try his best to find his own laptop, but he couldn’t find it anywhere

He eventually gave up and realized he had to use yours to get the pictures done, so with a deep breath he opened your laptop again, ready to click the porn away and focus on what he needed to do

The sounds started again and he paused the video, but as he waited for the editing program to open, he saw the title of what you were watching

“Daddy takes care of his princess..?”

Intrigued by the idea of you having a daddy kink he resumed the video, growing harder when he imagined the girl with the baby pink lingerine was you

A thought crossed his mind; he had the perfect idea as of what to give you for your anniversary

When the morning of the big day came around a few weeks later your blue haired boyfriend was already awake, presenting you with your gift as soon as you muttered a “good morning”

You opened the card expecting to find a cute message like he usually wrote on your anniversaries, but you were only met with “Daddy saw something that reminded him of his little girl and couldn’t resist getting you something special. Happy anniversary, my princess”

He was too shy to meet your shocked eyes, which only widened more when you opened the gift and saw the pink babydoll dress and vibrator

“Was it too much..?”

Obviously anxious that he assumed too much, you reassured him by pecking his cheek and resting your hand on his hardening croth, suprised by how much even the idea of being called daddy worked up your supposedly vanilla boyfriend

“I love it, daddy! Thank you so much!”

He smiled relieved as you changed from your sleepwear to your new set, gaining a boost of confidence when he realized he knew your body well enough to get you the perfect size

“You’re such a good girl, princess. Now lay back and let daddy give you your real present”

Saeran

“Harder, daddy...”

He was woken up by your needy moans and the feeling of your hips moving against his, grinding your ass against his crotch as he was spooning you

As he was half asleep he didn’t realize what you had said, the only thing he realized was how hard you’d made him and how badly he wanted you that exact moment

After hesitating for a few moments he let his hand travel down your belly before pulling your panties to the side, feeling how you were already soaking wet

This earned him another moan from you, which only got louder when he circled your clit with two fingers

“Saeran, I need you so badly... Please daddy”

Hearing his baby girl beg for him made him ever harder, and he couldn’t resist gently biting your shoulder

You woke up with a gasp as he pushed a finger inside of you, giving you some much needed satisfaction

“Were you dreaming about daddy’s cock, princess?” he groaned in your ear as he pushed it further in, crooking it to find your sweet spot

When your only response was a whimper, he pressed his crotch against your backside, letting you feel him

“I asked you a question baby, I expect an answer”

You nodded and wiggled your hips, trying to get him to shove another finger into you

“Tsk tsk tsk, such an impatient little girl. Daddy will take care of you, don’t you worry your pretty little head with that”

With that he rolled you over so he was hovering above you, before kissing his way down to where you needed him the most

fuck me up again, another good daddy

[kasumi-chou]

kas. kas. you should,,, hit me up,,, with some more jj with snakes,,, and i'll love you,,,, forever (i mean i will anyway but)

Reptiles

Sort of continuation of #PetDebate

“IT IS JUST SO DISGUSTING!” Yuri shoutedwhile throwing one of his pillows across his room in a moment of rage.

He was sitting on his bed, skyping hisboyfriend after a hard day of training. He had spent all morning with Yakov onthe ice and then all afternoon locked in the ballet studio with Lilia, he was alittle tired to say the least. Not tired enough to miss out on his eveningskype call with his boyfriend.

Otabek gave a small hum, not glancing upfrom the book he was writing in. He had said something about having to finishsome work or something for school. Unlike himself, Otabek was studyingpart-time, trying to earn himself a music degree of some kind.

Yuri could honestly admit to not knowingwhat degree his boyfriend was getting and was only assuming it was a musicdegree. Otabek didn’t talk about it and Yuri didn’t want to ask.

He took a deep breath, trying to calmhimself as he picked his phone up and started to scroll through it again. Sincethe pet debate on twitter the other day, JJ –who somehow had his number- hadbeen spamming him with pictures of his pet snakes. Sure, snakes were somewhat coolbut they weren’t cats.

“I mean, he had just been spamming me withphotos,” Yuri huffed in annoyance, earning another hum from his boyfriend.

“Snakes aren’t even that cool, not when youcompare them to tigers, or even pumas,” Yuri said while turning his phonetowards his camera.

“Beka, look, he even kisses them!” he saidwhile centring the picture of JJ kissing his green snake on the top of its head.Otabek glanced up from his book, stared at the picture before nodding his head.

“Cute,” Otabek mumbled before returning backto his book.

“Excuse me?” he gaped in surprise.

“I said cute, that’s Miss JJ, right?”Otabek said while leaning out of view for a moment before returning withanother book in his hand.

“Miss JJ?” he questioned in confusion.

“Yeah, Jackie-Jewel,” Otabek said, pausingand finally looking at him. “I knew JJ got a new snake, but it was only onefrom what I am aware of.”

“Yes?” he replied while turning the phoneback to him and flipping through all the photos.

There were easily a hundred photos, with amixture of all three of JJ’s snake – some with and without their obnoxiousowner.

Jackie-Jewell, or Miss JJ -that was actuallya lot less confusing then just JJ or using the snakes full name- seemed to be dressedup in almost all the photos that had been send to him. The gorgeous green snakewas always wearing little hats or ‘snake jackets’ as JJ dubbed the sock thesnake was sometimes wrapped up in. JJ also sent a lot of pictures of the snakejust chilling, hanging off JJ or on a branch.

Then there was VV, JJ’s only male snake whoalways seemed to wrapped around the man. JJ had even sent him a photo of himand his band preforming with the ball python wrapped around his neck. Had hementioned how long the snake was, it was easily longer than he was tall andthat was terrifying.

And then there was all the pictures of JJ’stiny, baby snake. The reverse striped California kingsnake, who he was halfconvinced was named after JJ’s fiancé.

Yuri hated to admit it but Bell-Bell wasreally cute. Not cute like a kitten, but still cute. It was tiny, and seemed toenjoy just chilling around JJ’s wrist if all the photos of JJ’s stylish snakebracelet were anything to go by.

“Why would you call them cute?” hequestioned his boyfriend while glancing up from his phone. Otabek paused andlooked up from his homework to stare at him curiously.

“I mean, they are cute? Especially inperson, VV is just as cuddly in person as he looks in photos and Miss JJ is hypnotising,”Otabek said with a shrug.

“In person? You’ve meet JJ’s snakes?” heasked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” Otabek nodded, “JJ and I use to be rinkmates after all. I have spent plenty of time with his snakes.”

Yuri stayed silent as he stared at hisboyfriend for a long moment. Sure, he had known that Otabek and JJ use to be rinkmates but he hadn’t been aware of how close the two of them were.

“Here,” Otabek sighed while picking hisphone. He stared at his boyfriend curiously before glancing down at his phoneas it vibrated in his grasp. He blinked a few times at the picture that appearedon his screen. It was a picture of Otabek and JJ standing side by side, both ofthem standing in shorts and a singlet with a snake wrapped around each othertheir shoulders. VV was draped around Otabek while JJ had Miss JJ around his shoulders.

“Wow,” he foundhimself mumbled. Otabek with a snake wrapped around his neck was rather hot, itreally helped solidify his bad boy vibe.

“I like reptiles,”Otabek admitted, causing him to turn his attention back to his boyfriend. Heopened his mouth to reply when Potya decided it was her time to make anappearance. The fluff white cat jumped onto the bed, momentarily blocking hisview of Otabek as she walked across his keyboard. He scooped the cat up and sether down in his lap, smiling to himself as she almost immediately started topurr while settling down in his lap. He gave the fluffy cat a few pats beforeturning back to his computer, he half expected to see Otabek to be working awayon whatever homework he was trying to finish but instead found his boyfriendstaring at him with a gentle smile on his lips.

“Cats aren’t bad,”Otabek said while leaning back in his chair.

“Cats are amazing,”he huffed, “Better then snakes.”

“I don’t knowabout that, you get a lot more attention with a snake,” Otabek stated.

“Well, theyclearly haven’t meet Potya before,” he responded while leaning down to press akiss to the top of his cat’s head, grinning to himself when she let out a loud,proud meow in response.

“You are probablyright,” Otabek said with a nod of his head. They both went silent for a moment,him gently patting Potya as Otabek went back to writing in his book. Yuri had neverhad anything like this before, a comfortable silence. It was normally awkwardor uncomfortable, but everything that involved Otabek was easy and comfortable.

“So,” he mumbledafter a few minutes of silence, “You like reptiles?”

Otabek paused andlooked at him in confusion for a moment before a look of realisation appearedon his face.

“Oh, I never toldyou,” Otabek mumbled.

“Told me what?”he questioned in confusion.

“I own lizards,”Otabek stated simply. He sat there for a moment, staring at his boyfriend blanklywith his cat curled up happily in his lap, purring like a lawnmower.

“What?” he said,a little louder than he should of.

“Yeah, want tomeet them?” Otabek asked, before he could say anything, his boyfriend waspushing all his homework to the side and disappearing out of view.

Yuri silentlygroaned, he couldn’t believe it. His boyfriend was just like JJ.

Why couldn’t Otabekhave a cat or something normal like that?

But he supposedlizards were cooler than snakes, so it wasn’t so bad.

It also really helpedhis boyfriend’s bad boy vibe, more than the picture of him with JJ’s snake.

Yeah, he could livewith Otabek owning lizards.

[carasueachterberg]

The puppies are gone. It’s just us now.

Well, us and four dogs.

And Hermoine.

And the horses.

And a few visiting cousins.

And two foster kittens.

What?

Yes, it’s true. I have finally realized my daughter’s dream and volunteered to foster two kittens for OPH’s tiny (but mighty) cat adoption program.

Superwoman Kendra has been leading this program and housing many of the cats and kittens in her home. Some of the cats have come from a local ‘cat colony’ (did you know that was a thing?). The adults she traps, has spayed/neutered and releases, but the kittens are kept to be socialized and eventually adopted.

And what better place to socialize a kitten then my crazy house?

Ian was completely on board with this. Ever since we lost his red tabby cat, Hagrid (Hermoine’s best bud) and then Crash (my best bud), he’s longed for another cat (no, we are not foster-failing, you should know by now that adopting our fosters is possibly the only thing I can say no too). I’ve put off his request worried that Hermoine might react badly to a new cat (Crash’s arrival was the day she began peeing in the basement).

Anyway, Ian agreed that yes, whenever he is home (which admittedly since it is swim season is not often), he will be socializing kittens. Plus, he seems to have a cadre of friends who are also up for the task.

Since there’s never a good time to start fostering kittens, Thanksgiving week seemed perfect. Plenty of people and stress already filling the house.

Ian and I set off early Wednesday morning to meet Kendra in Harrisburg for the exchange. Since Ian is still 40 hours short of this driving hours to get his license, it was the perfect opportunity to raise my blood pressure give him a chance to drive on Interstate 83. And what better day than the busiest traffic day of the year? (in all honesty, he did really well especially considering the mess on 83 North)

The two kittens are five-months-old, already spayed, micro-chipped, and up-to-date on shots (thanks to Chris Hunsinger at Shrewsbury Vet!). What they aren’t (yet) is happy and friendly. This is where we come in. Commence Operation Make-them-nice-kitties.

Opal is definitely not on board with these plans yet, but Phyllis is open to the idea. When we stopped off at the vet’s office for their rabies shot, Phyllis was very cooperative but nervous. Then we took Opal out to be weighed; she shot across the room and then straight up a wall. We attempted to calm her, but ultimately, the cat whisperer had to come and catch her by the scruff of her neck. She shushed her long enough to be weighed and then deposited her back in her carrier. I took note.

We’ve set the kitties up in the puppy room until the next puppies arrive. Basically, they are living in a large crate condo. We didn’t have cat toys, but we’ve improvised and hung leftover, scraggly puppy toys from the ceiling and put my puppy stool inside to create a little cave to hide inside. I’m sure their digs will get better as we figure out what they need.

So far, we’ve mostly just watched them settle in. Phyllis likes to climb the walls like a monkey and Opal mostly hunkers down in the makeshift cave and watches. I have to say they are pretty kitties.

The next few days they will be inundated with well-intentioned young adults – my kids, their friends, plus cousins from Ohio. I’m hopeful they will make progress because I have very little idea what to do next. If they were puppies I would cuddle them and ply them with treats, but I don’t think they’ll take well to cuddling and I have no treats, just kibble. Maybe I’ll buy them some tuna.

This feels very much like when we brought home our first foster dog, Galina. We have no idea what we’re doing, but we’re super excited to do it.

When these babies are ready for adoption, I’ll be sure to let you know. Meanwhile, if you’re in the market for a cat, OPH has some beauties available through petfinder here.

Oh yeah…..this blog is about the dogs!

The puppies got adopted!

Dixie goes for her spay and heartworm test this Tuesday – fingers crossed she is negative. If she is, she can go home a few days later!

Oreo still has no adopter. But we’re okay with waiting since he’s such a delight to have around. If you’d like to meet him in person, he’ll be my date for Photos with Santa and Wine Tasting at Linganore Wine Cellars on Saturday Dec 1! I’d love to share a glass of wine with you to celebrate the start of the holiday season! Bring your pup out for a classic photo!

Now, BIG FAVOR to ask. Okay, actually it’s not that big. I’ve written a short piece about one of the dogs I met on my book tour and who subsequently came to OPH and then was adopted. She is the perfect example of why I am a part of this organization.

I’ve entered the story in the My Giving Story contest (funded by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation). It could win up to 10K for OPH. But first it has to make the finals. The finalists are decided by votes. On Facebook.

So here’s what I need you to do today and every day until December 7 when voting ends….click the link below (and then save the link) and vote for Together We Rescue. You’ll be asked for your email address, but I have been assured this is only for verification purposes and then they may send you one email announcing the winners. They promise they won’t sell it or spam you – so, no risk.

I didn’t learn of this contest until the middle of the month, so we’re way behind in the voting by now and could really use your help. Thank you, thank you, thank you! And tell any other dog lovers you know. That money could help us save a lot more dogs!

Click here to vote!

Remember you can vote EVERY day until December 7!

Thanks for reading!

If you’d like to know more about my blogs and books, visit CaraWrites.com or subscribe to my monthly e-newsletter (which is rarely monthly, but I’m working at it…everybody needs a goal).

If you’d like to know more about the book, Another Good Dog: One Family and Fifty Foster Dogs, check AnotherGoodDog.org, where you can find more pictures of the dogs from the book (and some of their happily-ever-after stories), information on fostering, the schedule of signings, and what you can do right now to help shelter animals! You can also do some holiday shopping that benefits shelter dogs or get your own signed copy of the book!

If you’d like to know how you can volunteer, foster, adopt or donate with OPH, click here. And if you’d like more pictures and videos of my foster dogs past and present, be sure to join the Another Good Dog facebook group.

I love hearing from readers, so please feel free to comment here on the blog, email carasueachterberg@gmail.com or connect with me on Facebook, twitter, or Instagram.

 Best,

 Cara

Released August 2018 from Pegasus Books and available now

Oh yes, it's happened.... #fosterkittens #letthenonsensebegin @operationpawsforhomes The puppies are gone. It’s just us now. Well, us and four dogs. And Hermoine. And the horses.