#you show up at work the vet calls you your cat just died but you got no time

[absoluteabsolem]

i started the bear and it is great as everyone knows but it also confirms my theory that the cooking and flower industries are very similar if you're working at high-standard places. i too used to throw up every day before work. perhaps it is too early for me to watch this

[vamp-bites]

I worked in a gardening center this summer and naturally i used that as inspiration for a trigun flowershop au, so here are all the doodles i did in my notebook at work between june and july

All of these were inspired by my own work shenanigans (waterhose detaching multiple times and drenching me, was late once cause i took my cat to the vet, i was made to do the gruelling task of throwing out all of our 700 ruined pansies, and if i must suffer then so does wolfwood) but to me in this au Vash and Knives inherited Rem’s flower shop (probably called the Red Geranium or something Rem sounding like that) after she died

More au notes for fun: Vash works mostly plant maintenance and customer service while Knives takes on management and part-time in-store botanist on weekends. (He was working on getting a degree in botany before the shop took priority and he put his schooling on hold, meanwhile Vash is uneducated apart from the experience of working for Rem at the shop as a summer job when he was a teenager)

Wolfwood is mysteriously indebted to Knives (Knives was doing rather sketchy things on the side while in college and ww got wrapped up in it) and one day Knives showed up and was like “yo. You owe me. Work in my understaffed flowershop, ill be taking your debt out of your paycheck.” Vash finds this very unethical

Vash met meryl and milly in college (before he dropped out) and they see each other fairly often since Milly works in delivery and hangs out a bit whenever they get a new shipment of plants from nurseries, meryl on the other hand works part-time for the shop while continuing her education on the side

I imagine Rem died when her apartment building caught fire and she went back in to try and help people (basically just tryna adapt the canon backstory to a modern au) and of course the twins were there and blame themselves (knives especially) cause Vash had just moved back in with her temporarily after dropping out of college for his mental health and Knives was visiting home for the first time in a long time

Alright that’s enough of my little floweshop au for now, they’ve just been in the back of my head all summer, it’d be fun to develop it more sometime

[irisbleufic]

YOUR 3 CATS ARE SO CUTE OMG! How old are they/what are their stories?

Like many young-ish queer married couples, @one-eyed-bossman and I entered the fast track to pet parenthood in 2020. I was still recovering from extensive cancer treatment at the time, which is part of what makes our first kitty especially meaningful to me.

ZEL

Zel is my darling girl. She’s now 5 years old, and when we adopted her in June of 2020, she was already 1 year old. After being rescued on the streets at a few weeks old with her two personable siblings, she spent an entire year at this lady’s house with like 20 other cats at any given time. She was feral and unapproachable, but somehow I was able to get close enough to her at the rescue to pick her up and put her in the carrier. She nailed me with her claws in the process, but that’s the only time she’s ever hurt me or anyone else. The day after we got her home, I stuck my hand behind the bed in her safe room, and she set her little paw square in my palm and left it there for about a minute. I spent a couple of months crawling halfway under the bed to pet her while she was curled in her bed, and eventually I could get her to follow me around the house by asking, “Do you want to go for a walk?” She barely left my side after that. I spent a lot of 2020 sick in bed; she always curled up snugly between my ankles or my knees. She’s now the smartest cat I’ve ever met. Her language recognition shocks me even after 4 years of having her as a silly little shadow who likes to play fetch with her pink-eared mouse toy. She’s stuck to my side any time I’m on the sofa, and about a month ago she climbed fully in my lap for the first time. Her meow is barely a whisper when she does use it (only to talk to me and occasionally to the TV), but the trills, squeaks, and yowls she makes to talk to her toys are hilarious. She doesn’t even talk to her siblings like that. Unlike many white cats, she is not deaf.

NICKY

We got Nicky a year after we got Zel; he was about 8 weeks old when we brought him home in June of 2021. We met a kind lady who periodically bred her lovely Bengal queens, and Nicky was somehow a “non-show-quality” (?!!) discount kitten. He’s sweet, goofy, vocal, afraid of everything/everyone that’s outside the house, and occasionally very naughty. We hoped he would bring Zel the rest of the way out of her shell, and it worked. He just adored her from day one. She took a few months to warm up to him, but they bonded pretty fast. Now, at 3 years old, he’s a big boy—17 pounds. He likes to stand/sit on laps more than he likes to lie down in them, although he will lie down in mine a couple times a week. He brings me granola bars from the cupboard and loves trash more than he likes his toys:

EMBER

We hadn’t planned on a third cat, but the universe insisted. I mean that quite literally. On 31 July 2022, my mother died at my sister’s place a couple of states away. The morning she died, me and my four siblings took a walk around my sister’s neighborhood. We split up and went slightly different ways; my sister and her husband called me as I was getting back to the house to say that a tiny, tiny crying kitten had run out of the bushes toward them. My sister didn’t know what to do; one of my nieces is very allergic, and we were all burnt-out from dealing with Mom’s passing and the funeral home taking away her body. I told her to bring the kitten back to the house, because I was too grief-stricken to let another thing die that day. Out on the porch, I fed her milk from one of the droppers we were using to give my mom morphine, all the while making desperate phone calls to local rescues. After about 3 hours, a local vet with specialty in caring for bottle baby kittens came to pick her up. She told me that, because I didn’t live too far away in the grand scheme of things, she could foster the baby until she was old enough for me to arrange transport to my home state. There was no way I could walk away from that little baby, so I got regular photos, videos, and updates from her foster mom until I could arrange transport about 5 months later (she came home in December of 2022). She has grown up to be the feistiest tortie I’ve ever met. She has far longer hair than I ever could have guessed, and even now that she’s 1.5 years old, she has very short legs (longer end of munchkin, our vet says!) and an overall smaller stature than her siblings. She fucking adores Nicky, and he has never once played too rough for her given the size disparity. He lets her chase him, jump on him, bap him into play fights, etc. She will cry and cry at night if we don’t pick her up and carry her around before we close the bedroom doors (they get to sleep in the bedroom sometimes, but not always; Nicky likes to knock picture frames off the wall in there, and I’m not about exposing them to broken glass).

[merrybloomwrites]

You Can Start a Family (Extra: Pet Loss)

Summary: When one of your cats suddenly dies, Harry, Mitch, and Sarah are there to comfort you.

AN: I started writing this story back in January when one of my cats suddenly passed away. I wrote it to kind of process that loss. Decided it was finally time to share it. Kind of a heavy one, but I felt like it's been a while since I posted some good hurt/comfort.

Previous Chapters:

Main Story: One ; Two ; Three ; Four ; Five ; Six ; Seven ; Eight ; Nine ; Ten

Sickfic Part 1 ; Part 2

Mitchrry Prequel

Fan Reactions

Holiday Blues

Mitchryy Reunion

Getting High

First Earthquake

Mitch x Reader Cockwarming

Harry x Reader First Time

Word Count: 1.7K

CW: pet loss, grief

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You’ve been through your fair share of traumatic events, each leaving you with another loss, another hole in your life. Even though there were people around you each time, you felt so alone. Their support tapered off after a few days, or weeks. They said they were there for you, but life happens. You’re supposed to move on, and people have their own things to worry about. 

That’s how it always went.

Until you met Sarah, Mitch, and Harry. They never stopped supporting you. When the grief became too much, even years after the loss, or when your nightmares kept everyone awake, they never left. They held you. They sang to you. They knew when you wanted them around and when you just wanted to cuddle your cats. 

Your two little calicos, Tilly and Teddy, had been by your side for years. You rescued them shortly after you lost your mom and sister. They always knew when you needed some extra cuddles or laughs. 

They weren’t senior cats, but they weren’t kittens either, having already been a few years old when you rescued them at the local shelter. 

It’s a completely normal morning, you’re getting ready for work when you hear Tilly start to heave. You’re no stranger to the sound of cats puking, and Tilly will on occasion eat her breakfast too fast, causing it to come back up. You walk over, planning to comfort her, when suddenly she starts to shake. You may not be a vet, but you know a seizure when you see one. It only lasts a few seconds and you immediately stroke her fur, reassuring her. 

You call out for the others and they’re by your side in seconds. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, sounding slightly panicked. 

“It’s Tilly, she just, I thought she was going to puke and just just started seizing. It’s too early in the morning, her vet’s not open, I don’t know where to take her,” you reply frantically. Tilly’s in your arms now, panting, something she never does. 

“Found a place that’s open,” Mitch says, showing Harry something on his phone. 

“Okay, let’s go,” he says and helps you stand up. 

You wrap Tilly in a blanket and turn to Sarah, saying, “Can you stay and watch Teddy please?”

“Of course, I’ve got her. I’ll call the vet and tell them you’re coming.” 

The three of you rush out to the car, Mitch behind the wheel and Harry with you and Tilly in the back. 

The drive is tense, everyone’s quiet. There’s just the sound of you reassuring the cat cuddled in your arms that everything will be okay. 

The next 30 minutes pass in a daze. The vet takes Tilly from you the second you walk in the door and the receptionist leads you and Harry to a private room. You wait a few minutes, hand clutching Harry’s tight, and then the door opens. The vet doesn’t have to say anything for you to know that it’s bad news. 

He begins to explain what he thinks happened, that Tilly likely had a heart condition. After she passed they had done an ultrasound and confirmed her heart was enlarged. He tells you that this condition is rarely found in time. That it almost always ends in tragedy like this. 

You listen closely, and while you’re absolutely devastated by the loss, it is some consolation that nothing you did caused this. 

Harry watches you closely as you calmly and decidedly discuss next steps, choosing the cremation option and signing all the paperwork. The doctor then asks if you want to say goodbye to Tilly and you say yes. 

“Do you want me to come with you, love?” Harry asks. 

You shake your head no, needing this to be a private moment with your baby, something you do alone. The vet leads you to an exam room where your cat lays, wrapped once again in her blanket. You spend a few minutes petting her, placing a few last kisses to her head, and saying goodbye. When you’re ready, you wipe away your tears and are led back to the lobby where Harry is waiting. 

You settle the bill with the kind receptionist and another staff member brings out the blanket. You thank everyone for helping and walk back out to the car, Harry following behind. 

You get in the passenger seat across from Mitch but don’t greet him, can’t bring yourself to form any words right now. He rests a firm hand on your leg, giving a reassuring squeeze, and you give him a small smile in return.

The drive home is quiet, no one knowing what to say and you hold onto the blanket like it’s a lifeline. When you get home Teddy comes running to you. 

Leaning down, you pick her up and carry her to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. Now home, sitting on your bed, you finally let yourself break down. Sobs rip through your body as you stroke Teddys fur in an attempt to soothe both of you. 

Mitch, Sarah, and Harry all stand in the living room, unsure of what to do but hopeful that you’ll turn to them when you’re ready. 

Half an hour passes and your sobs turn to sniffles. Finally, you make your way out of the bedroom and onto the couch between Harry and Sarah. 

She begins to rub your back and you lean into the touch. “We’re here for you, whatever you need,” she says, and you believe her. For the first time, there are people who are there solely to take care of you during a difficult time. 

This brings back the tears, and you begin to cry again, this time not only from sadness about Tilly, but about all you’ve had to suffer alone in the past. Suddenly you’re surrounded, the three of them all holding you in one big, clumsy group cuddle.

Time passes and you look up, eyes meeting Harry. 

“It wasn’t my fault, right?” You need to ask, the guilt still eating you away. 

“No, baby. It was not your fault. The doctor said there was nothing you could do. This is never caught until it’s too late. You didn’t do anything wrong.” His words are so strong, so sure, and help ease some of the guilt. It will take some time to fully believe that, but you know Harry will be there to remind you of the truth each time you need it. 

“I want to get Teddy tested,” you say. “See if she has the same condition.”

“Do you want me to call your vet? I can fill them in and get an appointment for Teddy,” Mitch says. 

“Yes please,” you reply, relieved to have something taken off your plate. In the past, everything fell on your shoulders. Every decision, every phone call, every bit of planning, it all fell on you. 

But now, not only did Mitch anticipate what needs to be done, but promptly gets up to take care of it so you don’t need to worry about it. 

He comes back a few minutes later saying, “Teddy has an appointment tomorrow afternoon. They’ll do a blood test to check if she has any signs of the condition.”

You thank him for his help before extracting yourself from the embrace you’re still wrapped in with Harry and Sarah. 

“I don’t know about you guys, but I could use some tea,” you say. 

“I’ve got it baby,” Harry replies and walks to the kitchen. He first brings in glasses of water, telling you to hydrate. Next is some fruit. Then the tea. And finally eggs and toast. The coffee table is filled with dishes, another sign of how the others take care of you, and while you don’t really have much of an appetite, you find you’re able to eat a sufficient breakfast. 

You spend the rest of the day at home. The others don’t crowd you, but one of them is always close by in case you need them. They don’t question when you randomly walk up to one of them and lean against them, silently asking for a cuddle. 

You pass Harry in the hallway and turn to him. He happily opens his arms and the two of you stand there, Harry holding you close to him, until the intense wave of sadness passes. 

Later, you find Mitch sitting on the couch writing in a notebook. You sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. You’re content to just be near him, watch him work on another new song. You’re especially soothed when he occasionally turns to press kisses to your head. 

When the exhaustion hits in the afternoon you find Sarah, asking if she’ll come lay with you. She’s more than happy to hold you in bed as you nap, Teddy curled into your other side. 

You go back to your normal routine the following day, but Harry, Mitch, and Sarah all notice that you’re a bit more clingy and tired than usual. They keep an eye on you, anticipating when you’re going to need them so you don’t even have to ask. 

Almost two weeks after her death, you get the call that Tilly’s ashes are ready. You go to the emergency vet that day after work, texting your group chat to let the other three know where you are. 

They’re all busy out of the house, but they drop everything to be home when you get there. You’re grateful for this. Picking up that little box makes it feel more real, more final. 

Walking into your home and seeing the others there to support you has the waterworks falling once more. They each take turns wiping your face and kissing the tear stains running down your cheeks. 

This isn’t the last time you’ll cry over this loss, become so overwhelmed by grief that the feelings are just too much. But no matter when it happens, someone is always there to help you. 

Loss and grief have been such a large part of your life, but now with Harry, Sarah, and Mitch by your side, you can move through the feelings, rather than drown in them.

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AN: Thanks for reading! I have a few more extras planned for this story!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz@fictionalmensblog@buckybarnessimpp

[anxious-ruins]

my cat died two weeks and two days ago. I'm not okay with it, she was my best friend, her and her sister kept me alive through one of my hardest struggles. She wasn't sick, she wasn't old, she was so healthy, so happy and so beautiful, she just died. It's not talked about often enough how often this occurs with cats. How they can be completely healthy and then die without warning. Cardiomyopathy and lung clots are huge cause of concern in felines and I knew this, infact I often said I was prepared for this to happen to one of my cats... I was infact not prepared. I work in vet med, I live close to my office. We were closed that day, I had just been petting her, she was sitting her spot and I went to my bedroom heard a loud sound and my partner went to see what it was, she screamed and said something was wrong with pennywise, she was unresponsive. Everything I knew about vet med went out the window all I could muster up was call my vet, and then I finally started CPR, no shoes on I ran out the house we rushed her to office still continuing CPR, she was gone and I knew it, but i tried. I'm so traumatized I don't even know if I want to continue to work in vet med, I was so unprepared for my own pet. I froze. It doesn't happen like that at work but, nothing prepared you for your own pet.

Pennywise was the best cat. I got her when I lived in Florida, she was dumped under a dumpster, I begged and pleaded with my ex for this cat, she was my dream cat. Id always wanted a dark grey/blue cat and I finally got her. My ex left not long after, but the way she left was a mess, I'm at work with no vehicle, my phone had broke a few days prior, we had just deposited my check I was the only one working, rent was due, she left while I was at work, took all the money, left the apartment broken, took a cat, left me with no cat food or litter, she didn't just leave she did so in the most toxic way, taking one couch cushion and changing all the times on the clocks. It was awful, and I did not want to be alive but her and grim sitting in my lap purring away, I realized I was all they had, all they loved. So I stayed alive for them. She traveled from Florida for Indiana, to SE Kentucky, to Lexington, to Virginia, where our journey came to an abrupt end. I have cried everyday since, I have laughed at the memories, I've been filled with rage. I miss my baby, my sunshine. It took me months to get her to trust me, she gave me the most unconditional love for almost four years and I'll spend the rest of my life continuing to show her unconditional love, I'll miss her silently and with all of my voice. I'm not sure I will ever stop grieving this loss.

[longtallciara]

IF NOBODY SPEAKS OF REMARKABLE THINGS

Animism is reciprocity. ~ S Kelley Harrell ~

​At the end, all that's left of you are your possessions. Perhaps that's why I've never been able to throw anything away. Perhaps that's why I hoarded the world: with the hope that when I died, the sum total of my things would suggest a life larger than the one I lived. ~ Nicole Krauss - The History of Love ~

Maybe they are either best friends or crutches. Either way these things feel like they know me as much as I know them. I see them, touch them or listen to them most days, and I feel nourished and enlivened after spending time with them, as I would after spending an evening on the sofa with one of my IRL best friends. Time spent with IRL best friends is minimal these days, especially since I moved back to the motherland in October 2020. So I've had to funnel out and process my emotions in other ways. My partner is brilliant at protecting my feelings, and helping me regulate my emotions. But there are some things which he can't help with (I don't expect him to) because they are my work.         I won't be including things like books or music on this list. Those things are intrinsic to life.  As Nietzsche said, 'Without music, life would be a mistake.' To quote Cicero, 'A room without books is like a body without a soul.' I want to acknowledge everyday personal effects and artefacts that I have intimacy with. It reminded me of when, quite movingly, Tracy Emin married a stone at the end of her garden. The feelings she had towards that stone feel like what I feel around these things, not quite the same, but not far off either.      I propose that these these things which I have started to call 'best friends' have memories, as in there are memories of them - I have memories of them - but sometimes I think that they may as well, be it digital, physical or emotional. I try to treat whatever it is kindly and mindfully, and whatever I give they give back in turn when I am using them. Or I've gone mad.

My cat My pet cat is arguably someone I know in real life. But can you ever really know a cat? Let alone your cat? All I can say that I definitely  know about her is that her butthole stinks (I know because she makes me know by sticking her butthole that she is so proud of in my face) and she gets the zoomies post-poop. Otherwise, cats are a world-renowned mystery. Our vet Clare of the Cat Hospital said on the RTE show 'The Cat Hospital' that cats hide that they are ill, and if they do end up displaying signs of illness, then something is really wrong. Zadie has been demonstrably ill twice, and we  acted straight away. The first time was when we noticed a tiny limp when she walked, and we said we'd keep an eye on it. We went out for a few hours, and when we came home Zadie was in the doorway of our bedroom. She raised her paw to us and had this depressed, helpless look in her eyes, and we knew we had to go to a kitty ER immediately. The other time was last year, when we saw her sidle away under the bed and after 24 hours still wouldn't come out to eat at all. The poor girl had bronchitis.

​I love watching her after she heaves herself through the cat flap (she makes such a big song and dance about the cat flap, she often meows at us demanding that we open the door for her, Her Majesty) and she loiters around outside. She looks up and sniffs the air or the leaves of plants like she's doing it for the first time, but I've spied on her doing it every day, and it's just so damn cute. What is going through her mind as she does it? Again and again? Day after day? Does she have amnesia?

Maybe she takes things in and appreciates them like we humans occasionally do - when we take our first step outside, take in the view, the warmth of the sun and a big hunk of fresh air, before sipping our first coffee of the day. Sneaking in a bit of gratitude before the weight of all our burdens arrive on our shoulders and suffocate us, trapping us beneath the existential bell jar. Zadie knows exactly what she's doing - I don't. There is no rhyme or reason to her attacks of alarming affection on me, but the most miraculous of all is when she actually comes to sit on me when I am on my period. It's a dream come true - I imagine that she is trying to heal me, by keeping me warm and casting away layers of pain with the vibration and frequency of her soft purrs. Whilst I'm aware that I am likely to project my feelings of tenderness onto her, I feel satisfied that she feels tenderness towards me. I read The Inner Life of Animals by Peter Wohlleben years ago (so I might remember things wrong), but he talked about the element of choice in the animal world. Zadie could go and sleep anywhere. Even after I feed her she chooses to follow me into my room to snooze on the sofa next to me a lot of the time. Sometimes she comes in to clean herself and then just chill on the carpet, lying on her back and exposing her tummy - the ultimate pose of feeling comfortable, even around me who always wants to stroke her and disturb her.        Even when she is aloof, as is her right, she is companionable. I feel it when I am alone at home for a few days. I like being on my own, but there is something about having this other little soul in the house too. I love knowing she's there.

Reusable sanitary towels With all the politics of disposable sanitary products that was in the air years ago (the *~pink~* tax) and knowing that all my pads would eventually wind up in landfill and languish there for fifty years, I went and bought a Mooncup. It certainly was not for me. So I bought some reusable pads off Amazon and used them wrong. How can you use menstrual pads wrong??? I hear you cry, but somehow, I did. These pads weren't very nice, but I put up with them, because I thought I deserved them. Whenever I fold them up I wonder if they'll snap like a dusty old cracker. They were rough as hell and too uncomfortable to wear if I was out all day at work, so I compromised by buying more eco-friendly Natracare disposable pads.        That is until I found a box of Bloom & Nora reusable sanitary towels (not sponsored but my goodness I AM OPEN) on sale in Boots in the new year. It felt like I was destined to find this single remaining busted box. It had been opened and rejected. I had been looking online at these pads in the preceding days, where they were full price. Then I found them in Boots on sale. I paid for them and walked out the shop with a feeling like I had won. These pads feel like I am finally being nice to myself. They are so soft and comfortable, and I LOOK FORWARD to the novelty of wearing them when my period finally arrives because they remind me that I am looking after myself.

​Yoga mat My first yoga mat was from the middle aisle in the Streatham Lidl, and I had it for years, and it was a neglected, filthy, mangy, old thing that I kept for too long like my sorry old sanitary pads. When I took up yoga properly, I went especially to the Buddhist Centre in Manchester to buy my new one. And I still have it. It is a deep blue colour, the colour of my mind, and I treat it with respect. I do an equivalent of what Ravi Shankar did when he told George Harrison to not step over his sitar, but to walk around it. After I have rolled it out I might have to stand on one end of it until it stops curling up, which I do whilst my decrepit tablet tries to turn itself on and load the YouTube app.        There is something about taking out my yoga mat, rolling it out, putting on my delicately breathy, willowy-soft clothing, lighting a candle or some incense, then stepping on to my mat and sitting down gently and getting into a comfortable position. I love the ritual in the preparation, that is when the practice begins. The entire practice is like a story - it has the beginning, the middle, and the end.

At the end of a practice I crouch at the end of my mat on my tiptoes (a bit of extra yoga for my feet), and as I roll it back up I sweep my hands across it after each roll so that it is as clean as possible. I’m trying to take the best care of it after the negligent degradation of my first one.

Every few days I give my mat a clean with a spray that I made myself, thanks to the recipe provided by my other best friend in this small social group: Adriene. One of my sisters introduced me to her donkey's years ago and I have never gone with anyone else on the whole of YouTube. Her mantra to 'find what feels good' has taught me in the long run to get to know myself and my body better. It is an incredible tool. It has taught me what I can feel and achieve out of the physical sensations without expending my energies thinking about the shape of the poses or why the hell I'm so inflexible and out of shape and unhealthy and ugly.  Instead it has brought me understanding - I can tell people what I do yoga for and how it feels.

For me, my philosophy is a kind of cousin of the Japanese art technique of kintsugi. In kintsugi, broken pottery and wares are repaired using golden coloured lacquer, so that the breakages are still visible even when the piece is fixed. For me, yoga is when 'the breakages' are stretched and pulled further apart, and the sun and air can reach inside all these cracks. Or, it is the gold beneath that is finally  revealed and shining out, thanks to the stretches. I can feel it in my entire body. It's like I opened a ricketty, rotten wormy door to a cell in my soul where I didn't know free happy drugs were. They were there all along, and I was always able to get to them.

That's how it feels when you can finally make sense of marrying the movement to the breath in yoga. It took me months to understand why the hell Adriene wanted me to take a deep breath in at a particular point when my overheated brain was still trying to catch up with something else she was saying before, but with practice, it just clicked one day. Then I exhaled. Since then, I've been taking those moments with me to work, to the beach, and that image of my stretching muscles letting light in comes into my head daily, and I feel invigorated. So I thank my yoga mat, for being patient with me as I learned all this, for supporting me and taking me on.

The Blindboy Podcast Years into this podcast, its creator and host Blindboy Boatclub is definitely someone I consider my friend. He is a friend to me - a consistent, friendly voice. I treat him as my friend to the monetary equivalent of a coffee or a pint, and in return I get compassion and wisdom, and he makes me laugh. Blindboy is a pseudonym of a mystery person who I will never know, I only know the persona of a Mr Boatclub, not the real man under the plastic bag. So I think I get away with having his podcast on this list.

​The topics of the podcast are sprawling and inexhaustible, and he always makes them interesting.

Blindboy also speaks prominently about mental health - as someone who studied to be a psychotherapist, and has worked for most of his adult life in becoming emotionally literate, Blindboy has been trying to democratise psychology. In a world where access to mental health services is incredibly limited, and counselling and therapy are out of reach to the majority of people, his insights are invaluable. The mental health episodes have been so helpful to me as I continue with my own work in trying to understand the world and figure out who I am. The theories and ideas he summarises have been practicable for me in daily life - a game-changing episode for me was when Blindboy explained the concept of Transactional Analysis (modes of communication - Adult, Parent, Child. For example ideally when at work, everyone would be communicating with one another in Adult. However, on occasion, a manager may need to speak with an employee about a mistake they've made, and unfortunately the manager chastises the employee, doing this in Parent, and the employee reacts and responds in Child. This is an ineffective and dysfunctional dynamic for adults in a workplace or in general. That is my rudimentary explanation of it). Blindboy did not complete his studies, so is careful and responsible in prefacing everything with a warning that everything he shares is drawn from his own personal experience, and that everyone is different.         In the last bookshop I worked in, one of my core memories was when a guy came up to my till to buy On Becoming a Person by Carl Rogers. Blindboy has talked about Carl Rogers numerous times, and I thought maybe he listens to Blindboy. This lad was maybe 5-10 years younger than me, so I took the plunge. 'Hello fellow millennial', I did not say. I asked him if he did also listen, and he said that he did. We quoted things back to one another, and he told me that he was about to begin his own studies to become a psychotherapist. It was one of my favourite interactions I had at the bookshop.        Not only does he share his experiences and knowledge of psychology, he takes deep dives into food, folklore, history and art. Sometimes I feel  that I don't have an interest in the history of paint, or that I'm not in the mood for a lecture on the origins of disco music, but I do listen to them because I am currently going back and listening to every single episode. In the end, I am sold.        To get started, I would highly recommend the episode 'Butchers French', about Victor Frankl and his book Man's Search for Meaning. After listening to it I would implore anyone to read that book. My mum bought it for me when I was 20, and I read it whilst travelling around Europe by train and on my way to Poland. At that age I was without doubt self-absorbed, generally anxious and unhappy, but also undiagnosed autistic, and my mother recognised something at that time that I really needed. I think she knew that I needed hope.

The Poetry section Sometimes after therapy you feel like you've cracked something - your head open, or a mystery. When it's the latter, I want to dance down the street. When my head has been cracked open, I walk out onto the street feeling vulnerable, exposed, tired, and sad. Sometimes I want to go straight home and pull the curtains. Most of the time, I go to a bookshop or library and head straight to the poetry section.

So I know poetry collections are sold and bought in book form, and I said I wouldn't be including books in this list. But poetry is its own thing. You understand. ​I think that's what I'm looking for after a hard session, something to fortify, strengthen, ground me. Poetry is a genuine comfort. One of my favourite lines comes from Lemn Sissay, which became a bit of a mantra to me: How do you do it, said night How do you wake and shine? I keep it simple, said light One day at a time.

When I was researching for my book, I came across a WH Auden poem called 'First Things First'. It's meaning in parts is obscure to me, but the comforting feeling of it, especially the first stanza, just paints a warm blue picture to me. Woken, I lay in the arms of my own warmth and listened To a storm enjoying its storminess in the winter dark Till my ear, as it can when half-asleep or half-sober, Set to work to unscramble that interjectory roar, Construing its airy vowels and watery consonants Into a love-speech indicative of a Proper Name. After talking about this poem in one session, I promised myself as I walked to the bookshop that if I found a book with that poem in there I would buy it. And buying poetry has since become an allowable post-sesh expenditure, because poetry is elemental and therapeutic. Sometimes I don't know why I like poetry. At times it is opaque and obscure, sometimes it feels highfalutin and I huff and feel stupid. But like trying to understand other people and ourselves, it is something I want to have around me and is something I look to and pursue in trying to understand, or even let lie. Sometimes I think 'it is what it is' - I don't know what the heck a poem is about but it sounds beautiful. Sometimes my interpretation is different to someone else's reading, and both can be fine, because who really knows what was in the poet's head at the time? I think they were putting forward an idea as intricately and as beautifully as possible. Words so often fail me, so I seek them out. The cost of words I speak in therapy exhaust me, so I seek them out in their most concise, pure, distilled and beautiful form. Poetry is something to be reached for when you want to get back in touch with yourself; even if the verse is cryptic and you feel like you're being tricked. It is mindful and switches on hallucinogenic visuals, and it’s encasement in it's rules, techniques, and stanzas envelop me in something soulful.

We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out. ​~ Ray Bradbury ~

[suzyqrara]

05/31/2024

How I wish my phone conversation went with my dad.

“Hello”

“Hey Pa, how are you?”

“Hey babygirl, Im hanging in there how are you doing?”

“ Doing good! Sorry I couldn’t pick up the phone yesterday, I was working at the grocery store.”

“It’s ok, I know you were probably busy.  I was calling to see if you wanted to come down today for Memorial Day, you and Mason.  Your sister and her family will be coming over for some burgers and it would be nice to have you guys there too.

“That sounds nice, Mason is with mom because I needed someone to watch Mason yesterday.  I am going to pick him up and I need to figure out dinner for the week.”

“Stop by for some lunch at least?  We will have burgers.”

“ I’ll see pa, I cant make any promises.”

“Ok, I understand. How is the jobs going?”

“Grocery job is ok and Drexel job is fine too.  I cant complain.  How is work going for you?”

“A job is a job.  I requested them to give me three days a week but for some reason they are giving me 4.  But it will be nice to get the extra money so I am not complaining. How is Mason this week?

“Mason is fine, but we did lose a rabbit this week.  I have been ore sad then Mason but he is sad as well. “

“ I’m so sorry to hear that.  It is very hard losing a pet. I remember when Mona died.  I didn’t know what to do with the emotions I was feeling.  Are you ok?”

“ I’m ok now, I felt very sad the last few days.  The rabbit died on Thursday.”

“ I’m so sorry.  More reason for you to come over today to be with your family so we can hug you and show you love. I know you like pinkie, I'll buy a big jug just for you.”

“Thanks Pa. But I don't know if I can today.”

“What happened, are you ok to talk about it?”

Alla explains what happened.

“Wow, rabbits are very sensitive.  Im so sorry babygirl. If you need anything let me know.”

“ Thank you pa, I am ok.  Today I have a few things to do so Ill be keeping busy.”

“Alright love.  I will call sometime this week to check in with you.  Maybe we can plan to have a dinner or lunch together soon. Call me if you need anything this week.”

“Sounds good, pa.”

“Love ya”

“Love ya”

Bye.

Writing this fantasy conversation made me realize I want my dad to show me love. Nicknames like babygirl, love ya.  Anything in the conversation to make me feel like I am talking to my father and not some old stranger.  It also relieved me to hear fantasy updates on Ellen.  She has a family.  They are going to do something together on a holiday.  My dad can cook burgers. My dad is sending me his condolences in a way that makes me feel warm inside.  Not joking about how now I can make soup with my rabbit’s dead body or reminding me in detail what happened with Mona and how he didn’t do anything to help us bring the cat to the vet.  It reminded me how I paid for the cremation for Ellen and she never even said thank you. Memories of how stupid the family is. 

[kholran]

All of this. In addition to everything mentioned above, one of the most common side effects of declawing is a cat who doesn't use (or consistently use) the litter box. Back when I worked at the only local 'no-kill' shelter, we'd get a lot of people calling to surrender their pets, for just about every reason imaginable. Some more valid than others (I seriously had one person try to surrender their 14 year old dog because it no longer matched the furniture. I very nearly committed a crime that day.) Anyway, a frequently given reason for cat surrenders was "not using the litter box". And I would say 8 or 9 times out of 10, when you asked them if the cat was declawed, the answer was "yes". Big shocker, when you amputate toes and then bring the cat home (often with limited or no pain medication), and then said cat digs in a litter box full of tiny gritty bits, it fucking HURTS. So declawed cats will often develop pain-aversion behaviour, and choose to do their business somewhere more comfortable. Like the carpet, or a laundry basket full of clean towels, or the middle of your bed. Story time! I had a declawed cat. No, I didn't do it. I got this cat because her previous "owner" saw fit to drive up to the park next to our farm, open his car door, and throw her out into the woods before driving off. Luckily I witnessed this happen, and was quickly able to tell someone who went out and got her before anything bad happened. Through a not so surprising series of events, this cat ended up coming home with me that day. And I can say for a fact, without any doubt, that she was traumatized. Not only because of being dumped, but because of being declawed. For the first few weeks, she hid under a chair and barely came out to eat or drink. While she was under that chair, she would lash out and attack passing feet, which earned her the name Ninja (she was also black). Even after she gained the confidence to come out from under the chair, she would lash out at the slightest provocation. She growled almost non-stop, and bit when touched (biting is another common side effect of declawing, because the cats are very aware that their first line of defense is gone). She would swat at my other cats in a "you can't get me if I get you first!" kind of way. And of course, she peed on the carpet instead of the litter box. Now I'm not the type of person to give up on an animal once it's in my care. We ended up pulling up all the carpet, and putting puppy pads down in the places she used. She never stopped lashing out at us, even after 15 years. But underneath all that insecurity? There was a loving cat. In the quiet times, when she was comfortable enough to sit next to us and allow gentle petting, she'd purr and lean against our legs. It absolutely killed me to think of how wonderful and affectionate she could have been if they hadn't declawed her and made her so horribly anxious and defensive that she could barely function. You could tell that she desperately wanted affection sometimes, but she was too scared to accept it without lashing out. The only time I ever really got to hold her and show her the affection she wanted and needed was when she died in my arms at 16 years old. If she hadn't been declawed, she would have been a completely different cat. Affectionate, outgoing, and confident. Instead, she was anxious and volatile. Don't declaw your cats unless a medical emergency deems it absolutely necessary. The furniture isn't worth the physical and mental trauma you'll inflict on your cat.

ETA after reading some of the notes:

Yes, a lot of vets are still pro-declawing. Many will still offer it right alongside spay/neuter as just something you do. And the reason for that is that it makes them a LOT of money. I haven't checked the statistics recently, but the last time I did, declawing was the most profitable elective procedure for vet practices. So a lot of them will downplay the (many MANY) negative side effects and try to push owners to do it by saying things like "if you do it when they're young enough, it won't cause problems" or "there are a lot of causes of litter box disuse, we can't say for sure it's this". All of it is bullshit, and they're just trying to make money.

From my experience, just using nail trimmers and clipping a cat's claws does not make them more prone to biting (unless they hate it and bite your fingers while you're trying to do it). Be careful not to trim too close to the quick, and if possible, acclimate cats to having regular claw trims when they're still kittens. But at least in my own personal experience (currently, 10 clawed cats who get their nails trimmed), there is no increase in biting behaviour outside of the two minutes it takes me to get it done (particularly the cats who came to me as strays and had to learn to tolerate it when they were no longer kittens). Definitely not the same increase in biting as an every-day defense that we see in declawed cats. So don't be afraid to trim your cat's claws on a regular basis!

I been talking to a lot of ppl w cats lately (I volunteer at an animal shelter) and I didn’t know this needed to be said but

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT DECLAW YOUR CAT.

Declawing sounds very normal to people who aren’t educated on it so let me show you what it actually is.

As you might notice from the diagram, the claw is attached to a small bone at the very end of a cat’s paw. They are fused to this bone, which on a human hand would be where your last knuckle is (the one right before your nail). When someone gets a cat declawed, they aren’t just removing the claw.

The entire last digit of the cat’s paw is removed. (See below)

This severely impedes the cat’s ability to balance itself, is extremely painful for them, and can make the cat extremely aggressive because it no longer has one of its main defense mechanisms! It can also cause many other medical issues down the line including infection, necrosis, and some cats are never able to walk correctly again. Most cats that have this done never fully recover from the procedure and are in constant chronic pain.

It is extremely inhumane and is illegal in only two states at the time I’m writing this!!!! (Maryland and New York) Cats should only have this procedure if it is a life or death situation, never just because someone finds a cat being a cat inconvenient for them. Don’t get a cat if you don’t want to be scratched or have some ruined furniture. If you want more information on this topic, I’d recommend Jackson Galaxy’s YouTube video on it, and to read up on some articles I will link in the comments.

I know I don’t usually post about these types of things, but it’s made me extremely angry to hear people mention getting their cats declawed so flippantly as if it doesn’t ruin the cat’s life, and always for an asinine reason like “they scratched my couch” or “they scratch my kids” THOSE ARE YOUR RESPONSIBILITIES AS A CAT OWNER. Treat your kids and peers to treat animals with respect, or don’t get a cat.

[headingalaxys-sweet]

Hetalia X Reader Neko’s brought me to my lover

America

It was a blistering Summer’s day in Austin,Texas. Alfred had finished cleaning his RAM-1500 that had been caked in mud from the sudden downpour that happened when he was on his way home from work. He wasn’t fond of being rained on during his favorite season of the year but that's what he gets for living in the ‘weird’ part of Texas. Now that he could finally give his beloved cat a bath while he was already soaking wet. His dampened white collared shirt showcased his 6-pack and toned arms.

“America! Where are you bud?” He called out across his yard. “I’ll give you beef jerky if you come out now dude!” He trugged around his fresh-cut lawn to find his rambunctious cat. A few minutes go by before Alfred begins to worry. He yells about the prospect of food one more time just in case that does the trick. It doesn’t.

“Strange…that usually gets him flying out from wherever he hides.”

‘Where could that damned cat be this time?’

Meanwhile…….

America-Cat was having a blast teasing a Great Schnauzer and flicking his fluffy beige tail at the giant dog.

“Can’t catch me sucka MEOW! Ahahahahah!” He continued to back that ass up at the Schnauzer.

I died writing this line. XD

Having too much fun participating in his own antics he failed to notice that there was a broken piece of the fence that caught onto his back paw.

“MEOWWWWWWW!” America-cat yelled to the heavens. The fence creaked and snapped from the jarring movements. The beige cat came tumbling down with some of the fence now intact with its body.

“No more gyrating for you buddy boy!” The Schnauzer says amused that the cat got instant Karma for being an idiot.

“COOKIE! BAD DOG! DON’T HURT THE CAT!” Y/N called out panting trying to stop an ‘attack’ that would have gone down.

‘Fuck.’ Was all Cookie could think of.

Y/N a (hair color) woman ran up to the two animals. Cookie was embarrassed that the cat now knew its name. America-Cat gives Cookie a smirk as he now meow’d for attention, he pointed his paw where it hurt and tried to gingerly stretch it’s back leg out to show where the fence grabbed him.

“Oh you poor thing! Let’s get you to the vet! And Cookie no treats for you tonight. You know you shouldn’t run off like that and chase and injure a poor defenseless cat.” Cookie hung her head down in shame and put her tail under her. She didn’t like it when Y/N reprimanded her for something that she overall had no involvement in.

The Veterinarians

“Have you been able to contact the cats owner Mr. Jones?”

“Yeah, I have he’ll be in Jollyville in about 5 minutes. He’s from Austin.” Y/N says with confidence.

“Good if you want to see your new patched up pal you can. I’ll look out for his owner.”

Another 10 minutes goes by before you hear a heavy door slam into the cement wall. Just outside of the vet’s resting room for recovering pets and their owners. You see a sandy blonde man with brilliant blue eyes that had tears of joy coming from them rushing towards you and his beloved cat.

“America! You crazy cat! I love you bro but you have to stop spooking me like this.” Alfred hurriedly scoops his cat into his arms and gives him a tight squeeze.

“I’m just glad you’re alive dude!” He gives his cat a forehead kiss and turns his attention to y/n. She must have had a love pistol of sorts because his heart began to race with adrenaline and dopamine. He’d never seen someone as strikingly beautiful as y/n.

“Thanks for finding and taking care of him dudette.” Alfred says casually trying not to let the rush of passion and butterflies in his stomach subdue him. ‘This woman is a knockout.’

“No problem! Now that you’re here I’ll head out!” Glad the ordeal was over and you could maybe sneak a nap in after walking Cookie. As you being to take your leave Alfred grabs your wrist.

“Wait … I really want to repay you for saving my cat. Are you down for dinner sometime?”

Well he was handsome & you weren’t going to tell him ‘no.’ ;)

[citrinesparkles]

cat.

jason todd, eventually x gender neutral reader. 1,388 words. notes: this is part one of i don't even know how many and i cannot believe how wildly out of hand this got. this was a 500 word idea and it's gonna be at least three parts someone help (thanks to @angelz-dust for being so patient with me and encouraging on this!!! would never have made it out of the drafts without you <3) warnings: danger to kids, mention of a couple arguing, animal illness (spoiler alert: it'll be fine i Promise), a little (lot) different than my usual edit: part two here!

"let me be perfectly clear: if you even think about showing back up here, i will know, and i will make your life a living hell until i finally put you out of your misery. understood?"

"yes! yeah man i get it. understood."

"then i'd get going, if i were you." the man scrambled to his feet and bolted off across the playground, leaving jason to shout after him. "and warn any buddies you might have, too!"

he picked up the discarded knife and pocketed it. he then turned around slowly, hands visibly empty in a careful attempt not to scare the two kids behind him- well, careful not to make it worse, anyway. they, understandably, seemed a little shaken already.

"are you both alright?" he asked softly, slouching just a little to seem as harmless as possible.

probably would have been easier if they hadn't just watched him threaten someone.

the older kid- probably fifteen, if jason had to place a bet- nodded silently before glancing back at the little girl he was still hovering in front of protectively, who was just... staring.

she couldn't have been older than six.

"jazz?" the boy asked, voice tight. "are you hurt?"

he was ignored. "are you superman?"

the question, innocent and earnest and a little timid, made jason laugh. "not quite, kiddo."

she tilted her head like a curious puppy, furrowing her brow. "why are you wearing a jacket?"

jason glanced up at the boy, who seemed comforted by her mini interrogation. good.

talking was a good sign, too, so jason crouched down to meet her at eye level.

"because it gets cold out here!" he said, raising his hands up with a small wiggle of his fingers. "gloves, too."

"well, duh," jazz said with a giggle- a win, jason thought. "no fingerprints."

he nodded. "also helpful."

"and the hat to hide your face!" she said proudly, stepping forward a little to point at his helmet.

"wow, you've got the whole thing figured out, huh?"

"mhm! my friend ricky loves batman and his friends. he talks about batman and nightwing and spoiler and robin and red robin and red hood and batgirl all the time! they hide their faces like you, ricky thinks it's because of bad guys."

"they're kinda cool, huh?"

"nightwing's my favorite," she said firmly, as though it was something she had considered at great length and was fully prepared to defend.

"not red hood?" jason smacked a hand to his chest in mock hurt, shifting back dramatically. "i'm crushed, truly."

"no, ricky says red hood used to be an alien, but then got bored and now he annoys batman for fun instead. that sounds mean."

...well, okay, maybe he did annoy the big guy for fun a little. "that's an interesting theory, all right."

"ricky's got all kinds of theories. he thinks batman's a robot-" jason snorted- "and that nightwing was like pinochle."

"you mean pinocchio," the boy corrected quietly. "pinochle's what gramma plays."

"pinocchio!" she exlaimed, with a "ch" sound in the middle that made jason smile. "a doll that got turned human. that's how he does all the flips and stuff, he's got magic."

"hm, ricky seems like an interesting guy," jason said thoughtfully, making a big show of rubbing the chin of his helmet. "what do y-"

he was cut off by a loud, insistent meow, and jazz gasping even louder before taking off to the bushes.

"w- hey, don't rush off like that!" he said, shooting up off the ground as the boy sighed.

"there's this cat that she's been taking care of," he explained quietly. "the thing's got attitude for days but i think it's sick or something. jasmine's been bringing it little bits of tuna and chicken, but it's not like we can get it to a vet."

jason hummed. "why do you think it's sick?"

"it's thin, with its eyes all watery and sunk."

"might just be malnourished," he muttered.

"she's been trying to find it a home, y'know."

there was a wink-wink-nudge-nudge quality to the kid's voice that did not go unnoticed.

on one hand, it was good to hear something other than fear from him, but on the other... "what part of the tactical armor makes you think i'm an option?"

"the part where you just stuck around to check on us instead of running after that guy."

okay. maybe the quiet thing hadn't been so bad. the cocky 'amateur psychologist' thing was a little grating.

"you the real red hood?" the kid asked suddenly, shaking jason from his internal grumbling.

"what do you think?"

"i think you just saved our lives, and i wanna know who i'm thanking."

jason turned to him with a flourish. "red hood, baby saver extraordinaire. at your service."

"baby- dude, i'm seventeen!"

okay, so he would have lost his bet. "noted. still a baby, trust me."

"what are you under there, twenty something? whatever, grandpa."

jason chuckled, turning back to watch jasmine pet a small cat under one of the yellow lights littering the park. "you did well, looking out for her with that guy. you got a name?"

he scoffed. "would've been better if i'd kicked him between the legs right when he opened his mouth, instead of letting him get started on the whole 'what're you kids doing out so late?' bit," he muttered darkly, pausing for a moment before answering. "my name's jordan."

"well, jordan, what are you guys doing out so late?"

"mom works nights, and the neighbors were fighting. it was loud enough to wake jazz up, and it wasn't the kind of thing she needed to hear. i figured a trip to see her cat would be less awful than hearing them call each other things i wouldn't even call my friends." the breeze picked up, rustling the trees and catching on jason's jacket. "and then the asshole with the knife decided to make a bad night worse."

"is jazz your sister?"

"yeah, she's a good kid," jordan said, fond and warm. "sorry about the whole ricky thing, though. he's obsessed with those vigilante conspiracy videos and tells her all about them at school."

"no, no, it's fine. i can't wait to tell wing about his new origin story, he'll love that."

jasmine suddenly came bounding back towards them, grabbing their hands and yanking them to follow her. "c'mon, you need to meet cat!"

"you call it cat?"

jordan bristled subtly. "is there a problem with that, red?"

"no, no, it's an appropriate name. just making sure." jason waved his spare hand at his head. "helmet makes me hear things sometimes."

jordan opened his mouth, but his sister plowed right over whatever he was going to say, pulling on jason's hand again. "cat, meet... what's your name?"

"red hood."

"you can't be red hood!" she whirled around, indignantly putting her hands on her hips. "there's already a red hood in gotham. besides, you're not even wearing a hood, so it doesn't fit anyway."

jason turned his head to jordan, who was smiling- a good sign, but probably a bad omen for whatever he was about to say. "she's right, man. it's not a hood."

"tough crowd," jason muttered. "uh... then you can call me, uh-"

"bucket!" jasmine suggested happily, tapping his helmet. "because this looks like a bucket."

if there was one thing vigilantism had taught him, it was that sometimes you actually do need to pick your battles. this...

this was not worth fighting.

"sure, fine, whatever. hi, cat, i'm red bucket." he turned away from the kids- both of whom looked entirely too happy about the whole 'bucket' thing, he thought- and crouched down to finally look at the cat.

it did look a little sick, actually.

it was gray, and thin, and-

and now it was headbutting his knee like it was trying to push him over.

"cat likes you!" jazz cheered.

"sure does," jordan said pointedly. "isn't that interesting?"

jason opened his mouth, but his snarky comment died in his throat when the cat settled down right in front of him and blinked slowly up at him with a sweet tilt to its head.

...shit.

just- shit.

he sighed, standing up and looking back to jordan and his stupid, entirely-too-pleased-with-himself grin. "so, jazz," jason grumbled reluctantly, "where does cat live?"

[elminx]

A few notes on surviving tough Chiron times with an personal example

Since Chiron stationed retrograde yesterday, I want to talk some about the ways that its retrograde effect can show up in our lives. I'm going to use an easy and relatable experience from my own life this week as an example - remember that Chiron may show up in a similar or completely different way, depending on your own trauma.

Yesterday afternoon, my eleven-year-old cat went into the kitchen and proceeded to make the most horrible pained yowls while sitting underneath our kitchen table. She's a mouthy cat so her making noise is not unusual - but this is a very unusual noise. I thought that she was dying, or, at the least, that we were about to take a trip to the emergency vet. I called my partner, they came home, and she got up and acted excited to see him. Fucking cats.

(Sidenote: she does have a regular vet visit scheduled now as she was obviously exhibiting signs of being in pain - but she pooped the smelliest shit afterward and coughed up an eight-inch hairball in the middle of the night so I'm guessing she was in pain from that, better to be sure though)

The thing is, on December 2, 2010, my seemingly healthy five-year-old cat died at my feet. In minutes. There was no saving him. The vet said that he either had a heart attack or a brain aneurysm. In 2010, I was not the Minx that I am now. I had been repressing all of my emotions since I was a child (when I was taught to by my other who didn't want to handle having an emotional daughter). The cracks were starting to appear but I was still using disassociation as a primary means of coping with life.

Additionally, I worked as the Front End Supervisor for a major retailer and it was the middle of the Christmas season. That job wouldn't have given me time off to mourn a family member during the busy season, let alone a day or two to deal with the loss of a pet. I would have just been out of a job that my partner and I needed to pay our bills and keep ourselves afloat.

So I kept on going and I worked all the way through it - and I probably prided myself for not breaking down and being inconsolable about a very significant tragedy (he was a very special pet to me).

I'm very happy that my baby appears to be okay. We'll bring her in for a checkup (and she probably needs some teeth pulled, le sigh) but I think, given the circumstances, she is mostly fine now. But I've gained a lot of awareness in the last twelve years and once the immediate fear and reaction started to fade my immediate thought was: Minx, why did you think that you cat was going to die?

Sure, she was obviously in pain. And watching your pet in pain is really, really difficult because there's nothing that you can do about it. But she was alert and did not in any fashion act like my cat did when he was dying. That's when I realized how much pain I was still holding onto from that event.

That is what Chiron does - it highlights those old wounds that haven't been tended well enough to close over and heal. We all have them for one reason or another. Some of them which may never heal, no matter how much work we do.

Even so, Chiron teaches us that it pays to be aware of these forever (or very hard to heal) wounds. This is the basics of Chironic shadow work - not to endless return to things that will retraumatize us, but to know our own wounds well enough to know when something is triggering those wounds. To be able to separate the "then" from the "now". When you realize that what you're feeling is a reaction to something that happened in the past, you can put it down, and you can separate it from what is happening in the now.

I deeply understand that this is not easy work but if you have a strong Chiron aspect in your natal chart or you are going through a major Chiron transit, it is work that will likely be forced upon you, whether you are ready for it or not.

If this is you right now, here are some tips to help you through it:

Give yourself the space to feel your emotions and/or grieve. You can do this by yourself or with a trustest Other - whatever feels most right for you. If you need to, do this under the care of a professional therapist.

Remember that you are not your emotions. Emotions are feelings inside your body that are happening to you. You can just let them go and tell them to move the fuck on. Phrases like "I feel sad" help because you are acknowledging that your emotions are happening to you rather than over-identification of your emotions ("I AM sad").

The sign of your natal Chiron may give you some insight into how to disperse the energy/emotions that come up during a transit. Earthy Chiron natives tend to need to ground out their emotions, while watery types may need to use water to work through it, and so forth.

Use your best self-care techniques. For me, this includes nervine teas, rose quartz, and healthy whole foods. What does that mean to you?

Hydrate. Crying is dehydrating. Plus, water moves things through us - quite literally. This is especially important for people born with Chiron in a water sign.

Write it down to get it out of your head. You don't need to keep it or show it to anybody. Don't fuzz the details - write down the truth and the whole truth as you are seeing it/feeling it right now. Don't hold back. You can burn it afterward if you want to.

Chiron stations retrograde for a couple of months every year or so, so this transit is business as usual. That said, because of where it's sitting and its connection to other points in the natal chart that are very active now, we are all feeling it quite strongly this week. Its most affecting cardinal signs (Aries, Cancer, Libra, and Capricorn) and fire signs (Leo, Sag) between 10-25 degrees for any personal planet. If that's you, know you are going through a Chiron transit currently and that the universe is encouraging you to level up your emotional processing skills.

You can always look at the type of aspect that it's making, and to what planet, for greater insight into how this journey is likely to play out in your own life right now. (I do this as part of my Transit Chart readings - available through my Ko-Fi site)

For the rest of us, the Chironic energy will wane as we move away from the date of its retrograde (7/19).

[epilepticreggie]

What are your favourite hc's for each character, or just one, idm, dump information on me :)

I want to preface this by saying that I loe you so much for giving me an excuse to just say everything that's on my mind, I'm going to give you lots of headcanons, lots of them, here we go

Flynn is the kind of person who can't just not know how things work but who will also refuse help at all costs, she must learn everything, but she must learn it on her own, you know the dance flyiers? she taught herself to use photoshop just for that flyier because she'll be damned if she has to ask someone else to do it for her, that was the tip of the iceberg, she can now make the most realistic montages ever. Her clothes? she makes them! she aught herself shion design when she was 5! yes, she sometimes buys clothes, but most of them end up being transformed anyway because she won't stand wearing the same dress as someone else, no matter if that someone else is on the other side of the planet, she's unique and her clothes must be it too, damn it! also, she doesn't know it, but her dog is related to Max (learn about Max on Willie's section). She also taught herself to code because none of tumblr's themes ever satisfied her, yes she's on tumblr, does she look like a non-tumblr user to you?

Julie's favorite disney character is Eugene Fitzherbert because Flynn, the first time she watched Tangled nobody could stop her from fangirling over the fact that her best friend's name is also Flynn, she made Rose call Misha just so she could tell Flynn about Flynn. They wouldn't stop reenacting the movies for years. It wasn't clear to me if this is canon or not, but I love the idea that Julie's Stand Tall dress was suppossed to be her quinces dress (she ended up not having one bc her mom was dying). Julie started to doodle on her shoes, mic, jeans, etc., as a compromise with her parents because she wouldn't stop drawing on the walls, including the school walls, and store's walls, and pretty much every wall.

Flynn, Julie, and Willie are best friends no matter the universe, Flynn and Willie are married as a joke and they won't divorce, not even for Alex to marry Willie.

the car accident where Willie died wasn't his first car accident, when he was around 12 he was in a car with his dad and they both ended up in the hospital, after that Willie refused to go inside a car, the accident is the whole reason he started to skateboard everywhere, he just couldn't stomach being in a car, only cars tho, he was okay with buses and trains and stuff like that. The only situation he got in a car for after that was at 16 when he found a bunch of abandoned puppies and he wanted to take them to the vet but he figured skating with a box of puppies wasn't safe and the bus wouldn't allow him with them, so he reluctantly went in the car. Having the puppies there helped because he loves dogs, especially big dogs, he finds comfort in acting as a chair for massive dogs. He used to volunteer at a dog shelter and adopted a massive dog from there, her name was Mini, lovely giant fluffy dog. He was about to adopt a small dog that had just given birth at the shelter, but then he died. His parents adopted her in his honor and named her Max because that's what Wilie wanted: a small dog named Max and a big dog named Mini.

speaking of dogs, Reggie is allergic to both dogs and cats, but he asked for a puppy in the show in hopes that being a ghost would render his allergies useless. it didn't, but he figured is not like he's going to die again so he keeps petting dogs. he was always top of his class because he's really good at memorizing things, but he would forget most of it as soon as the test was over, there were a few subjects he retained info about because he really liked them. he always acts so silly because he would always try to distract his little bro fom their parents' fights and at some point he just defaulted to that for everything.

Bobby was really good at tests but it was in a different way to Reggie. Bobby basically mastered the art of tracking down old tests, at first he would just dig through his brothers' stuff until he found their tests and then studied the (correct) answers from those tests, but eventually he worked out an entire system with older students to get their old tests because some of his brothers' teachers had retired since then, and also because it couldn't hurt to have more than one test to study from.

after the guys died, Bobby tried to separate himself from music as much as he could because the band still had fans trying to reach out to him and he couldn't stand one more question about the most traumatic night of his life, so he started to work at a museum and he met Ray there because of course Ray was a regular. After some months his plan kinda backfired because Rose also started to work at the museum and recognized him, but she was cool about not asking questions or bringing it up and they became besties. Bobby was the one to convince Rose to ask Ray out on a date since Ray would freeze everytime he tried to talk to her so he was obviously not going to make the first move. Rose was the one to get Bobby to play again by dragging him to an open mic and telling him she wouldn't stop the pda with Ray until he wrote his name in the list. She only wanted him to write his name down, baby steps and all, but then he actually got on stage, she was proud.

Carrie is popular but kinda not. She's not popular in the high school movie cheerleader way, she's popular in a Rachel Berry way where she's in every club she's able to, always wants the spotlight and would totally send someone to a crack house in order to keep her solos, so she's only "popular" because she's hard to ignore, not because people are fighting to be her friend. Carrie is short for Carrieta, someone take away the power of names from Trevor.

The following characters have epilepsy: Willie, Flynn, Julie, Alex, Reggie, maybe Bobby as well, idk.

Not exactly a headcanon, but Caleb's boss is played by Eva Noblezada, I love Eva Noblezada.

[rascheln]

Steve is fifteen when his parents get him a purebred Maine Coon. Technically, it’s his mom’s for all of two weeks, who on a whim decides that she misses the cats that roamed her own childhood home and within the same day has the number of a reputable breeder. She gets these ideas sometimes, like when she thinks the living room needs a different sofa or Steve’s dad needs an entirely new set of suits. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if the idea to have him was brought up on one such whims as well. 

Except his mom kind of forgets that a cat is a living, breathing thing that doesn’t just sit still like one of the ornamental pieces she likes to swap out in the front entrance. It’s much like Steve in that way: Shiny and new and fun until the excitement wears off and her interest wanes. And then it becomes his dad’s problem to deal with.

Steve’s mom names the cat ‘Pudding’. She gets scratch posts and litter boxes strategically placed in corners of the house that won’t immediately make Steve’s dad lose his mind about the impression they would leave on dinner guests. She drags Steve to ‘Pudding’s’ first vet appointment and gushes to him about all the fun ways they can play with her. And then she just loses interest a month later when she goes on the next trip with his dad to Italy. She tells Steve to take care of the cat like she showed him. And he may not know it in that moment, but this is when she becomes his cat.

The house is as deserted as it usually is when his parents leave- except the bright sound of the bell on the cat’s collar cuts through it almost immediately and lights the entire place up. So Steve calls her Tinker Bell instead. Steve is sixteen and Tinker Bell won’t stop following him through the house whenever he’s home. She loves when he plays with her, loves to walk right between his legs to get him to pet her, making him stumble in his haste not to step on her. And she won’t. stop. growing. She’s a brown tabby with these pretty dark ear tufts that make her look like a wildcat if you only see her approach out of the corner of your eye. All she does is meow at him for more attention and enthusiastically greets visitors when he dares to have a party. 

It’s when Steve is seventeen, freshly home from fighting a goddamn inter-dimensional monster, that it hits him how Barb Holland must have died right in his backyard. He lies in his bed, face still bruised and swollen and aching and watches the light reflections from the pool play along his ceiling while he struggles to breathe. He’s bathed in icy cold sweat. He feels like his limbs are pinned to the mattress, stiff and chilled to the bone while his heart feels like it will beat out of his chest. Distantly, he can hear the jingle of Tink’s bell coming closer. Feels the mattress lightly dip where her not inconsiderable weight weighs it down, feels her settle on top of his chest and start purring so hard it rattles his rib cage. It still takes a long time until he can move his stiff hands to pet her, but by then he’s started to warm up again from her body heat seeping into his skin.

At eighteen, when he loses his girlfriend and the last vestiges of his dignity at school, he sullenly curls up on the new chaise lounge in the living room- his mom’s most recent spontaneous purchase- with Tinker Bell draped over his entire lap and tries to drown his broken heart, his bruised ego and his confused feelings about Billy Hargrove in his dad’s most expensive whiskey. When that doesn’t work, it’s only between him and Tink when she lets him cry into her silky soft fur for way longer than he’d like to admit.

He’s nineteen when he introduces his girl to Billy Hargrove. “Holy fuck, that is Tinker Bell?” is the very first thing that comes out of Billy’s mouth the moment he steps foot into the foyer and they're greeted by the now familiar sound of her bell and an enthusiastic meow. “Judging from the name, I thought she’d be a tiny thing.” Of course she immediately runs towards Billy, curious about the new visitor to her domain. The way Billy carefully holds his hand out for her to sniff makes Steve smile. He watches as she rubs herself against Billy, clearly enjoys the tentative pets he gives her before she turns towards Steve. He knows he’s her favorite. Waits in amusement for her to show off her newest trick: With laser focus, her eyes settle on him and with a by now well-practiced leap, she easily hops onto his shoulders, where she settles heavy and content like an eight-pound stole. Steve’s shoulders are just wide enough to not have her fall off and Billy’s reaction- wide eyes, mouth dropped open- is so worth the wait.

Of course his parents just had to pick the summer after Steve’s graduation to spend an extended amount of time in Hawkins again, to really make sure his humiliation of not getting into college was rubbed in properly. And of course it intersected with Steve getting together with Billy, with wanting to finally have a private moment where they can do more than spend a few stolen moments making out at the back of the arcade. The end of summer is near. They’ve survived a massive meat monster together. And Steve has a boyfriend who is cat-approved. He feels like things can’t get much better than this, honestly. Steve is freshly turned twenty and holding all twelve pounds of cat in his lap, sitting in the passenger seat of Billy’s car. Warm summer air flows through his hair, whips Tink’s luscious mane and Billy’s curls. They're finally, finally leaving Hawkins behind.  Billy catches his eyes with that fond, private smile that creeps onto his face when it’s just the two of them. Like he reserves it just for special moments like these.  “I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Steve tells him, giddy with excitement for what’s to come. Billy’s smile just gets wider, more cheeky.  “I can’t believe I’m letting your walking fur ball into my car. I’m never gonna get all that hair out.” Steve laughs, playfully swats at Billy’s arm. “Oh, and don’t get me started on your mop of hair,” Billy laughs right back.

[apenapaperandadoofus]

Can you make a list on who you think is the most to least reliable of the RFA (+ Minor Trio if you want!) when it comes to pets 👀

gasp you know what yes (I've been wanting to make some lists for a while -maybe least to most bottom of each of the RFA characters LMAO-)

MysMe characters least to most reliable with a pet and what pet would they have:

11. Rika

LMFAO bet ya didn't expect that did ya!? Nah you probably did, anyway the reason why she's the least reliable for a pet it's kinda obvious, first of all, she would refuse to get her pet treatment when it almost turns blind and ma'am? Please help your dog???

Also if at any time the pet dies she would start another cult so let's not risk it with her. Instead of an animal maybe give her a rock instead pfttt (actually wait-no she'd probably throw it at our poor mint coloured hair boy just give her a dog plushy it smth she can't be trusted with alive things)

10. Saeyoung

You may be asking me, Amanda, why, Saeyoung absolutely loves cats he'd be a cool cat dad, and yes, you're right. But you also don't understand that this man's love for cats goes SO far that he will actually cause chaos all around him. He'd give the cat SO many treats, not only that, but he'd also cuddle them, and that's nice tight? Wrong. This man will try to stretch the cat, grab it and twirl it around, reenact the lion king and do the 'Simba' bit and everything. Not only that he'd completely use it to prank Zen and everyone else, overall, he'd be a great pet owner but it'd be too much chaos so let's just stick with loving cats from afar.

Also I feel like he'd get a snake for some reason, and he'd dress them up in like a fancy bowtie a hat, or an iguana or chameleon y'know? He'd go for the amphibian type :o

9. Ray

I love our boy, I really do, but honestly how do you expect him to take care of a dog if he can't take care of himself. 😢

Actually scratch that, if he had a dog he would definitely love it and spoil it, and we live for that but also:

honey focus on yourself too we don't want you to D I E

Maybe give him a hamster or smth, while he's hacking away and watching MC in their room the hamster will be spinning on it's wheel super happy

Or he can have some cute fishes 🐟🐠

And like his brother, because great minds think alike, maybe a chameleon. He'd be pretty scared of them at first but he found one under some flowers and decided to rescue it, and now he sort of ended up adopting it :D

Although I find it pretty unlikely that he'll get a pet, he's more into flowers anyway

(OH WAIT WHAT ABOUT BEES? YA LIKE JAZZ -im sorry pft but now I need to see Ray in like those bee farmer dress things lmao)

8. Zen

I could see him as the pet owner that takes their dogs on walks and such, but honestly, if he's allergic to cats he's probably allergic to other animals too, at least some with a lot of hair! Although I feel like he'd get one of those big dogs and he'd go on runs with it all the time. The dog would be like the ones that are mostly thought of as super dangerous or aggressive but it turns out they're a sweetheart. Either that or a poodle 🐩💀 (but like I said, he's probably allergic to animals with lots of hair.)

HOW ABOUT A PARROT? ZEN COULD TOTALLY PRACTICE HIS LINES AND SONGS WITH THE PARROT AJDNFBFB

7. Jihyun

Jihyun would be pretty good as a pet owner but honestly he'd be super nervous at everything at first. Welcome to the Jihyun apologizing to his pet show akdjdn. But would we trust him with a pet? He wasn't really able to take care of two teenage boys -although it was mostly because he was in a toxic relationship 💀

When he has his sight problems he could totally get those helper dogs? (Forgot what they're called I'm sorry T_T)

He'd probably get a more chill pet tho, maybe a cat (he probably likes them a lot too! Also they're pretty calming.) So he could have like the guide dog and a small kitty too!

6. Jaehee

She'd be an awesome pet mom lol. I don't think she'd get a cat after being traumatized from pet-sitting Elizabeth. Maybe she could get like a turtle 🐢

Or maybe a rat to reenact Ratatouille lmaoo

She wouldn't get big pets unless the MC wanted to adopt something (and if they're a couple, we all know what people who want kids but can't or just aren't able to adopt at the moment, do, they get DOGS AND CATS!!!)

So honestly she'd start understanding why Jumin pampers Elly so much, since your dogs basically your child now PFTTT

Maybe a bunny too? I could see her working with the bunny on her head lmao and that's adorable

Omg imagine her with a SNAKE, HOW BADASS WOULD THAT BE???

5. Suit Saeran

You may be wondering once again, WHAT AND WHY

Let me explain.

Suit would dffinetly get those scary and big dogs that have spiky collars and everything, and he'd probably call him something like Killer or Skull Destroyer, or maybe Blade lmao

And we all know he'd die for his dog. It's the only one he can trust ajdhdbdbd

He'd be like the bad boys that walk around with their dog everywhere growling at people (not just the dog, the two of them)

And "Spike" would be so well taken care of. Believers have to start doing draws to see who feeds the monster dog that always bites them PFTTT

The dog would also dffinetly know how to fight. It'd be cute if the only person he likes appart from Saeran tho is MC hehe

AND you cannot change my mind in this, ever since Saeran got "Dark Knight" (I'm experimenting with the dog names pfft) he's shown him a picture of Saeyoung and taught him to absolutely hate his guts, so Seven, buddy, maybe don't get to close to them lol

AND the backstory for this dog is that Saeran found him under some bushes, hurt, and the dog reminded him of when he was younger, so he took him in and that's how the doggie came to be :3

3. GE Saeran

Idk, he'd also get the normal-ish animals, like a bunny or a cat (he'd like how calming they are.)

He'd be awesome with animals too!

Also uhm, someone please draw him as a farmer AJDHDHD lmaoo that's the first thing that came to mind 😂

He'd be the person that likes animals but like....other people's animals? He'd love to see Elizabeth and such, but he wouldn't really want to have one (unless MC wanted to of course.) It's not that he doesn't like them, it's mostly because he feels more comfortable with other people's pets ajdjdbd

Also he doesn't want them to ruin the garden oop

3. In a tie with Saeran, Yoosung

I forgot about him and didn't want to change the numbers lmao

Yoosung is a vet, c'mon he knows how to deal with animals!

At first he'd be so freaking nervous and would be just like a helicopter parent, making sure the doggie is alright and such, but then he gets the hang of it and he's perfect.

We all know we got a bunny with him too in his GE :D so maybe a dog and a bunny! He'd have more than one pet I'll tell ya that.

2. Jumin

Listen he's the king alright? He pampers his cat SO much, and you can just TELL how much he loves Elly. We all stan a man that loves animals.

He'd probably get some exotic pets too, maybe a few horses and birds that are really exotic or something

But can you imagine him with like....a tiger PFT

He'd be like: omg this is a cat but bigger let me have one

It'd be like Sebastian from Black Butler lol

He'd also be up to a dog, it'd take a bit of convincing but if MC wants one then he'd snap his fingers and get them one immediately (I love this man he's so ADORABLE) and then they'd have two children and Zen wouldn't have to worry about just Elizabeth

1. Vanderwood

Yes! The one! The only!

He's the only one appart from Jaehee that has more than one braincell PFTTTTT

He'd have a pretty big and scary dog that would've an absolute sweetheart when you get to know them. Everyone at first is scared but the dog just wants to sleep and eat, that's all.

Vanderwood is super responsible, I mean after Saeyoung I'm sure a dog would be nothing. He'd also compare Seven to his dog lol "Not even Capitan America is that dirty!"

"you named your dog Capitan America...?"

"shut the hell up or I'm tasing you."

His dog would spend all day sleeping. Sometimes Vanderwood will take him on walks, and they really enjoy that time together.

Vanderwood romance route? Uh, no he's far too in love with his dog to be doing anything else PFT

And you cannot once again change my mind on this:

He talks to his dog when he's alone.

He will tell him about his day as he cooks or does the laundry. He'd be in an apron making some dinner and be all like:

"Ugh, today I had to take care of that no-good for nothing guy again. It's incredible how messy his house can get in just a matter of hours! Not only that, he wasn't eating properly again, that idiot. I had to practically drag him out of his chair and make him eat some food. Not that I'm worried. It'd just be a hassle to have to find another hacker as good as him. Seriously that guy...."

And the dog would be like excuse me do I look like your therapist please just give me food lolol

[kannra21]

@owishi Asdfghjkhgfds I want to write sum HCs rn! 😆✨✨

~o0o~

After a successful photoshoot the MCPTF duo took for a detective magazine, Haru bashfuly thanked the camera crew for their work and started to gather his belongings. After a couple of seconds he didn't see Daisuke moving much from his spot at the studio backdrop so he decided to check on him.

Daisuke was still standing there, petting a beautiful cat on his shoulders. He was smiling for the first time in a long time and Haru couldn't help himself but to tease him a little.

"You have a soft spot for kittens, huh Kambe?" "Huh?" "You love animals don't you?" "Don't get the wrong idea. Just because I helped that little boy with a dog back the-" "I get it, no need to get so self-defensive." Haru approached the two and pet the cat as well. Daisuke continued "We had a family cat back in the days but she died from a kidney failure." "I'm sorry to hear that." "Pedigree cats are always difficult to maintain."

He then approached the studio producer and asked "What's the name?" while pointing at the purring ball of fluff. "Oh the name's Kumo-" "No, I meant the name of the breed." "It's a Maine Coon my good sir."

Daisuke took his phone, dialed a number and a lovely lady could be heard on the opposite line "Yes, Daisuke-sama?" "Suzue, do we have all the predispositions that satisfy the adoption of a cat?" "I mean yes but we can't charge a butler to take responsibility for everything. Consider chipping, regular visits to the vet, special shampoos, nail clippers, toothbrushes, specialized treats, eye drops, litter box, toys, climbing frames, there are many factors which need to be taken care of Daisuke-sama. Besides, it's been such a long tim-" "Alright"

Daisuke ended the phone call with a dissatisfied sigh before asking quietly "How much?" to which Haru needed to interfere. "Didn't Suzue-san just tell you not to take a cat home?" and Daisuke gave him an annoyed side-glance "I'll figure something out."

When he arrived to the mansion in his Bentley Continental GT, he glanced at the backseat to address the feline comfortably lying in the fancy pet carrier. "You better not make a sound, understood?" to which the cat just purred in satisfaction. Daisuke felt so silly at this moment, like a little boy hiding a broken vase from his mother.

When he was about to enter the mansion, he accidentally walked on Suzue typing something on her tablet. She looked up and was delighted to see Daisuke coming home safe and sound. Daisuke stood at the doors, one side of his body peering from the corner while the other with a cat was hidden behind the wall. "Welcome back Daisuke-sama, the crack-open naengmyeon is already served on the table, you can take your seat." "Actually, I was planning on doing something else beforehand. Would you please excuse me for a moment?" "Of course." Suzue turned around and waited for him in the dining room. And although Daisuke was very good at keeping his serious demeanor, Suzue still noticed that something was off, with the tone of his voice for instance. It was very faint but Suzue was able to recognize things like this since she knew him so well. Still, she decided not to question him about it.

Daisuke entered his room and laid the pet carrier on the floor. Opening the zipper, the cat jumped out and rolled cozily on his bed. Daisuke held his phone and took a picture. He decided that he couldn't leave it by itself so he went downstairs to the storeroom where he took a litter box and filled it with old newspapers just in case.

After that he joined Suzue for lunch, they talked about Daisuke's photoshoot and Suzue's data she collected on certain people regarding a case. Daisuke told her that the magazine will be published in three weeks or so and Suzue was so happy she promised that she'll be the first costumer to buy it. Daisuke smiled more around Suzue after he let go of his past and threw his father into the jail. Now that all the bad things are behind him, he can finally indulge in his life and pay more attention to Suzue to whom he has yet to make up for all she has done for him over the years. He's thinking about marrying her soon.

While they were eating and pleasantly chatting, a high pitched "mrow" could be heard from the upper floor.

"What was that?" Daisuke let out a dry cough and said "My apologies. It seems that I needed to take a thicker coat before leaving for an appointment." "But.. you always pay attention to things like this." "It's true, but today I was a little late, had other things to do." "Don't overwork yourself, you need to think about your health." "Seems like you need to take better care of me.", he said with a smirk plastered on his lips to which Suzue just laughed and replied "You're so spoiled." and he scooted closer to her whispering "But I like it better when you do it.", and almost kissed her before the two heard a soft thud coming from the above.

"Excuse me for a moment, I need to check what's happening up there. Will be right back.", maybe the moment was ruined but he kissed her forehead nonetheless and went upstairs, leaving her full-hearted and all mushy inside. Her mind was so hazed from the thought of Daisuke kissing her forehead and almost kissing her lips that she didn't register the cause of his concern.

When he arrived to his room he had things to behold; scattered papers and documents all over the floor and the ashtray he typically used after his "adventurous nights with Suzue" was lying on the ground right next to the nightstand. The cat was sitting on his working table licking her paw as if nothing of this concerned her in the slightest. Daisuke sighed in disappointment and put her back in her "baby jail". She already gave him such a hard time but he couldn't be angry with her, she was his baby (yes he already considered himself a dad for god's sake).

Since they already finished with their meals, Suzue went back to her tech room to finish her work and Daisuke took the opportunity to place some meat and water on small plates and bring it to his naughty little friend.

The cat calmed down instantly after she ate and went straight to sleep. Daisuke couldn't believe his own eyes, the audacity, the sheer amount of spoilage this creature showed was unreal. It reminded him so much of himself and he smiled a little. He really missed having a cat.

After he cleaned up and finished his other tasks, he laid on the bed next to her and pet her soft white fur, making her purr louder and snuggle up beside him. Daisuke knows that Suzue is not stupid and that she'll eventually catch up on him sneaking behind her back to give Furry Elise treats (yes her name is Furry Elise, "Für Elise" might be one of Beethoven’s best-known piano pieces and Daisuke knows how to play it too).

And it actually happened that same night. Daisuke was about to fill her small plate with more meat when he met Suzue in the kitchen and she asked him what he was doing. He instantly gave up because it would be so blatantly obvious and incredibly stupid of him to say that he was trying out a new weight-losing tip when no one in this god-forsaken world ate raw chicken.

So he took her to his room and showed her Furry Elise. And although the cat purred really loudly upon seeing them, Suzue wasn't happy about it. In fact, she looked really disappointed and Daisuke needed to apologize. He explained her how it happened and how he wished to have a pet after a really long time. He thought she liked cats as well and therefore concluded that it wouldn't be such a big deal to adopt this cute little feline she loved so much, but apparently it was, so he asked her one more time why she was so reluctant to the whole idea of owning a cat again.

Suzue now shredded a couple of tears and Daisuke was seriously alarmed upon seeing her like this so he carefully cupped her with his hand behind her back and hugged her, asking why she was crying all of a sudden.

"It's just.. I don't want to go though this all over again." "What are you talking about?" "You see, my parents died, your parent died, our previous cat died so soon. I'm living in fear every day and asking myself if something's going to happen to you as well, that's why I'm so excessively worrying about you. And everything I need right now is another sweet creature that I love so much leaving us again. I don't think I'd be able to handle it anymore."

"Suzue.. I never thought..", Daisuke kissed her head and felt a big amount of guilt dawning on him. He was so selfish for only thinking about what made him happy without considering Suzue's emotions. But then he reclaimed his mind and tried to concentrate on saying the right thing. Hopefully he can make her feel better again.

"Suzue, my dear, you shouldn't limit yourself to things that make you happy. It's not healthy. You see, none of us is eternal; neither you, nor me, nor this kitten down there looking at you with so much love in her eyes. But for that very reason that none of us is eternal, we should dedicate our time to one another and make most of it. So please don't deny yourself or your feelings. Instead of dwelling on the sad things, we should concentrate more on our time spent together and be happy, okay?"

Even Daisuke didn't know how he managed to word it this nicely but he did and he realized that both of them were crying by now. They shared a passionate kiss but got interrupted by a small furball rubbing on their feet like it wanted to share a hug as well and Suzue smiled through tears.

She squatted and carefully took the cat in her hands. "What's her name?" "Furry Elise." Suzue now needed to laugh so much and she hadn't even recovered from her previous emotional outburst.

"I love it, you're really good at this.. it's.. the song you used to play for me all the time before you went studying overseas."

He looked at her with so much love and adoration at this exact moment.

"Know what? I think I'm falling for you all over again, Mr. Millionaire." Daisuke swore, his heart was full that night and no money could ever compare to this feeling.

@daisuzuship @innovativestruggles @narcopharmacist @unholysoggytea @riaymei @ieatcrumbs @cow-goes-oof @matchabucks @bluegleeful @levi-is-heicho @kakooshi @kokorokai @darknessrxse @fluffyyagiza @geniusmeemee @sungmnnnn @koalarin @alstroemerie @petiamaximoff38 @hellohellokookie @marialenikiforov

It's daisuzu stuff so I hope you enjoy. If you want me to delete your tag you're free to tell me. 👍

[rest-upon-the-morning-light]

JonMartin fic

So I’m trying to get back into fic writing, especially for TMA, and have a multi chapter fic planned but wanted to start with a smaller one shot style fic to warm up. It’s been an age since I’ve written anything, much less something that wasn’t just reader based or smut lmao. I’ve added trigger warnings but if I missed any do let me know! 

Any feedback would be great and if you like this, please send me prompts! Happy to write anything from fluff to smut, just as long as its TMA based :D 

So! Here is my cute fluff JonMartin fic! Enjoy~ 

Everybody Wants To Be A Cat 

Word Count: 2240 

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Animal Abuse, but nothing to graphic. Anxiety. Self Worth Issues. Season 1 Jon being Season 1 Jon. Season 1 Martin being Season 1 Martin.

Fandom: The Magnus Archive

Pairings: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood 

Summary: Martin was certain of two things. One, he had an enormous crush on his boss. Two, his boss hated him. Who knew a one eyed beast of an alley cat would bring them closer?

Martin Blackwood has two problems.

Problem number one. He was absolutely certain he was more than a little bit in love with his boss.

Problem number two. His was absolutely certain said boss hated him.

 Well, hated was probably a strong word. Hated implied that Jon thought of him at all, and it was far more likely that Jon thought of him very little throughout his day. Except, of course, when Martin did something wrong. Then those piercing eyes of his would be solely fixed on him whilst he shouted about how inept Martin was or how stupid his mistake had been.

It hurt, those moments. It hurt that the only time Jon ever truly seemed to see Martin was when he was angry at him. Not when Martin did an amazing follow up on a statement. Not when he’d created a great rapport with a statement giver or their family. Not when he brought Jon tea. Just when he did something wrong.

It was a running theme in this annoyance Martin called his life.

He still couldn’t help these feelings though. Jon was an arse half the time that much was true. It infuriated Tim to know end when Jon would lash out at Martin. “He has no right Martin. Mistake or not he’s your boss, he’s supposed to help you, not act like a massive dick all the time”

It was harder for Tim and Sasha in a way. They’d been Jon’s equal for a long time, working together. Moving to the Archive was always going to be a bit of a challenge. To have friend become boss. Especially for Sasha, who everyone thought was going to be become Head Archivist. But neither had held any real resentment over Jon for the change. After all, it wasn’t his choice, it was Elias’s.

But Jon’s sudden shift from rude but mostly recluse and occasionally friendly colleague to rude very recluse and stick constantly up arse boss was harder than any of them expected.

Martin could understand. It was big position and Jon seemed like the type to take everything he did very seriously. This meant holding everything in the archive to a high standard. His assistance included.

So yes, Jon was awful to him a lot of the time. But he was passionate. He cared. For all his blustering that none of this was real, Martin could see how much he empathised with the people who had given those statements. How he looked like he’d personally failed them when a follow up revealed they had died not longer after they’d come to visit the institute.

His crush probably wasn’t the most healthy but sue him! He liked being a bit in love. He liked having inspiration for his poetry. He enjoyed the fluttery feeling in his stomach when he came into work.

He just wished Jon didn’t quite hate. No. Didn’t quite dislike him so much.

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There is a cat that has been hiding the alleyway behind the Institute for several days now.

Martin noticed the poor thing when he’d been taking out some rubbish that accumulated in the Archive. Usually that sort of thing wasn’t his job, but he’d been done for the day anyway and he liked to be useful, even if no one really noticed.

It was a mangy young thing. Light brown fur matted, one eye seemed to be damaged and it hissed every time Martin so much as approached it.

He couldn’t just leave it though. Poor thing needed help. It was out here, lonely, forgotten, damaged by the people that probably at one point said they’d love and protect it.

Was he projecting onto a stray cat now? God this was a new level of sad.

So he did what someone in his position did best. He researched.

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There is a surprising number of places to buy cat supplies near the Institute and the workers in the shop were incredibly helpful with his questions.

Approach slowly. Don’t try to touch or hold the cat. Leave out food and water. He’d also bought a small plastic hut and shoved a warm blanket inside for the large cat. He didn’t know what breed it was. Just that it was grumpy and hurt.

It didn’t take a great deal away from his own funds either. His job paid well enough and he didn’t exactly go out with people very often, buying expensive drinks or tickets to shows.

His special treat was usually some sugar drenched coffee.

He couldn’t see any physical injuries on the cat, apart from its eye, so he put some treats in the hut, left out the food and water, then left.

He came back everyday with more supplies to keep the large growling cat comfortable. Every day that passed the cat came a little bit closer to him. He grinned at that. Hoping one day it would come close enough to pet.

He’d read somewhere that when cats blink, once and slow, it was a sign that they trusted you. Martin waited for that day with bated breath.

Tim and Sasha were a little bit suspicious as to where he was going on his lunch breaks. He told them he just taking a long walk, getting some fresh air away from the dusty old archives but he knew it wasn’t the best lie.

Lying for the sake of his job was one thing. Lying to his friends for no good reason was another.

It wasn’t like he doing anything bad. It was more that he wanted this for himself. He wasn’t even too sure why. Part of him wondered if he was worried the cat would somehow take some natural liking to either one of them or both. He didn’t want to lose all his hard work.

Or, if he was being more honest with himself, he didn’t want the cat to abandon him for someone better.

Yeah. New level of pathetic had been reached.

But one lunch, a few weeks after he’d first spotted the broken but massive feline, that the lying and the ill feeling became absolutely worth it.

Because the cat approached him.

Martin didn’t move a single muscle. He was sat on a small wooden box in the alley. Far enough away as to not frighten the poor thing, but close enough that the cat could make contact if it wanted to.

And today it did.

He held his breath the closer it got, keeping eye contact with its good eye the whole time. It paused for a moment, right in the front of his bent legs, before it let out a small mirp noise and butted its head against his knee.

“Oh hello” Martin laughed, chest feeling lighter than it had in an exceptionally long time.

He reached out his hand slowly to pet its head and let out another sign of relief when the one eyed cat let him.

“Well” he began

“I can’t very well keep calling you cat or beast in my head, you’ll need a name”.

It didn’t acknowledge his words in any way, just continued to let him scratch behind its ears and watched him with its one working eye. He could almost imagine its thoughts.

“Silly Martin, just come up with one already. Stop wasting time”.

He let out a soft chuckle at the thought, a name ready on his lips.

“Jon” he smiled gently.

“I think I’ll call you Jon”.

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 It went well after that. Martin made plans to keep the cat. It would help the dreariness of his lonely flat, and he was lucky his landlord allowed pets in his building.

He couldn’t afford proper insurance but the workers at the pet shop knew an emergency vet that wasn’t too expensive, so he could get Cat Jon’s eye checked out soon.

Giddy as he was with his newfound friend, he didn’t realise that he’d been less subtle than usual about where he was going on his break.

It was one grey, wet Wednesday that it all came to ahead.

He’d been sitting crossed legged on the ground, his coat below him as a sort of makeshift blanket to keep his trousers dry, when Human Jon found them.

He hadn’t even noticed Jon had followed him until the backdoor that led the alley burst open with a bang that echoed down the narrow way.

“Martin” shouted Jon, looking at some papers in his hand.

“I need you to take your lunch late and follow up on this report. You made several errors in your research that, frankly, a child could spot. I don’t know what you’re doing out here but if you have time to sit around then –“

Jon’s rant was cut short as he finally looked up to the picture that greeted him.

Cat Jon had leaped into his arms from the loud noise, clinging to Martin’s bright yellow sweater.

Martin froze, cat in arms as Jon stared at him with a look of equal shock.

“Oh” began Jon softly

“Sorry” Martin practically shouted.

“I – eh – this is, well um, a cat, I found? A few weeks ago, actually. I’ve been sort of taking care of it? Getting it food and water and um” he gestured to the plastic hut and blanket he’d laid out.

“He was hurt you see. Only one eye and really badly taken care of. Abandoned, I recon. So I’ve been out here on lunches making sure he’s, um, that he’s okay? Is that..is that alright?” he trailed off nervously.

He couldn’t look at Jon. It wasn’t exactly something to be ashamed of, taking care of a stray cat. But he could imagine Jon being the sort of serious no nonsense person who would see it as a waste of time, his lunch break or not. God would this make his relationship worse? Would Jon scold him for it? Did it make him seem more pathetic than before? Christ, was that even possible?

He didn’t notice the movement until Jon was sat beside him on the floor.

Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, sat on a dirty alley floor with Martin K Blackwood.

He watched with bated breath as Human Jon reached his hand out to Cat Jon and let out a small sound of relief when Cat Jon didn’t bite, scratch or run away.

“You poor thing” murmured Jon, eyes only on his (unknowing) cat counterpart.

“What have they done to you? Well, you look better now than you probably did before. Thank to our Martin here”.

Martin couldn’t help but blush deeply at that. Hot all over his face. He couldn’t handle this. Jon being all, all soft and gentle and calling him “our” Martin.

“You’ve been taking care of him then?” Jon looked up at Martin now. Eyes soft and kind for once. It nearly took all of Martins brain power to respond after receiving such a look.

“Yes” he began.

“Like I said, I found him a few weeks ago. Planning on taking him back to mine soon, get him out of the cold properly”.

Jon nodded, eyes never leaving Martins, hand firmly petting the cat in Martins arms.

“I’m sorry, about the work” Martin nervously bit his lip.

“I’ve been really worried about him so I rushed it to get out here on time. It’s no excuse and I know you don’t exactly think highly of my work in the first place. I’ll make sure I stay late tonight so I can catch up”

“Martin” interrupted Jon, eye straying on the bitten lip, a slight flush to his cheeks.

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I haven’t been fair to you these past few months. It’s been unprofessional at best and, well, and downright cruel at worst”

“Your job is stressful” Martin tried to defend

“And we both know I’m not exactly at the same standard at the others”

“Still” Jon continued.

“It’s my job to help you, not, berate you at every mistake. You came from the library, not research, so you have different skill set and – well, its been hard for us all. Not fair of me to put all that blame on you. God knows Tim could stand to be a bit more professional at times” Jon grumbled out the last part, a small pout to his lips.

Martin laughed at that, smiling wider than he could last remember.

“Tim just likes to keep you human, I think” he winked and watched with fascination as the flush came back to Jon’s dark cheeks.

Cat Jon leap out of his arms after that, toddling off to who knows where.

“Well” Martin began, getting up from his cross legged position on the floor.

“We still have time for lunch, we could, um, maybe eat together? If that’s okay I mean! You could help me figure out a name for him?” “You don’t have one already?” replied Jon, surprise in his voice “Uhhh not any suitable ones, no” Martin laughed awkwardly.

He couldn’t exactly say he’d name the poor blighter after Jon. He doubted Jon would take it as a compliment and he didn’t want to ruin whatever fragile peace they’d stumbled onto.

He held out his hand to help Jon off the floor. Jon eyed it, before bringing his own hand up and placing it into Martins larger ones. Martin pulled him up and held back a small gasp as Jon shot forward quicker than intended, his smaller hand landing on Martin chest.

Jon looked up at him, a small shy smile gracing his lips.

“Beautiful” Martin couldn’t help but think, face and ears bright red.

Jon pulled back, coughing every so slightly into his fist.

“Yes, well, I’ve named a cat or two in my time, it won’t be too hard” “Oh?” teased Martin

“What about Magnus? We did find him here” Jon shook his head at that, crinkling his nose slightly.

“Absolutely not, something more dignified. The Captain maybe?” “Captain?” countered Martin

“The Captain” continued Jon as they began to head back inside

“I suppose the one eye does give him a bit of a pirate look” Martin couldn’t help by laugh slightly as he said it.

“Yes” Jon laughed back

“Dignified but still fitting his nature” And off they went, back into the Institute. Unaware of any monstrous eyes watching them as they simply watched each other. A new, wonderful feeling developing between them.

Neither noticed that they still held each others hands as they made their way to the break room.

And if they spoke of cat names, and toys and flushed deeply when they did notice the hands still entwined, well.

Those moments were only for them.