#pet death mention in tags

[howlsnteeth]

how is your puppy? any good news?

hi! sorry i haven't posted publicly about it much, i have bad anxiety about "not posting if it's not art/people don't like that/will dislike you" etc, but! very good news. he did have surgery and a tiny metal plate fixed in, and has been recovering really well! he's pretty much back to 100% now in energy, and has a final xray in a couple of weeks! the cost was fucking insane so my family has started pet insurance for him lmao

world's bravest little man!! it was his front left leg which is still mostly shaved in this pic

[sycamorality]

i had a dream today. not unusual for me, of course, but the dream itself was. i don't think i've ever had anything like it.

unlike... every dream within the last month i can remember, i was home. in the house we live in currently. it's nothing more than an afterthought that yeah, this is dream is meant to take place in current time, sometime today. so i'm just walking around, i see something out the window in the sky, and make a wish. a wish for wings - for freedom, if anything. ... of course i don't really get what i want. but a minute later, a cat appears. my childhood cat, lula, a gray cat with white paws and light green eyes. i stare at her. ....she's not meant to be here. she died 6 years ago. why is she here? why can i hear her purr and why can i pet her? this isn't meant to happen. she's gone. she has been for a while. but i still pet her. i get to per her again. i get to cherish her again. like i'd wanted to for so long. it felt so melancholic. it's been so long since i've been able to do this. she's warm and soft and she's laying with me, and made bisuits like she'd never done before, almost as if she was telling me everything would be okay, and then i woke up.

i think in a sense it was grief. of course i'm still processing it. she'd been with me for my entire life up until that point, when she passed. but something about this dream felt so.... different. maybe she really did come back, even if for just a moment. just to let me know she's okay and that i'll be too. maybe it's a bit of closure. i'm so glad i got to hold her, just one last time. i think i needed it.

[3-2-whump]

The Auction Floor: Thomas Costa’s POV

Hi all,

In exchange for a chapter on the current timeline (a chapter I am still working on/fixing up before it is posted), I am posting a prequel chapter. Any and all prequel chapters will be found under 'Eternal, part 0.' They won't have nav arrows, but they will have an explanation to when in the story they take place, and a link to the masterlist to read more. Hope this system works for everyone!

This chapter happens slightly before, concurrently, and a little after The Auction Floor

TW/CW: death of a minor character (briefly mentioned), institutionalized slavery, pet whump, dehumanization, nonconsensual nudity (nonsexual), minor whump (at time of story), creepy/intimate whumper(s) (sort of a multiple whimpers situation), manhandling (nonsexual) (towards the end)

Mob boss Luciano Antonio Costa – Boss Tony - had died, leaving mafia to his grandson, Thomas, to control. The newly-appointed heir didn’t look much like a typical Italian mob boss. With his blonde hair, steely blue eyes, and freckled fair skin, he hardly even looked Italian. However, the old boss never had any legitimate male heirs to pass the helm of leadership to, having only one daughter before his wife died. Although he begrudgingly accepted his daughter’s marriage to Tom’s father, an inconsequential gangster from the Irish mob, he had always intended to pass the family business onto his surviving grandson.

“I’m so sorry for your loss�� began to lose its meaning after the fourth well-meaning chump, and unfortunately, Grandpa Tony’s funeral had a good turnout. “That was a beautiful eulogy,” one of many nameless faces sniffled. “You two must have been very close,” they’d said to him. Were we ever close, though? Thomas wanted to ask, remembering only the time they last fought. It may as well have been a lifetime ago when he was a teenager who turned his back on the family to try and live a straight life, but the guilt hung over him like a curse no matter how hard he had tried to run away from his fate as the next boss of the Costas. It was always about what he wanted me to be, not what I wanted. Never once was it ever about what I wanted to do with my life, he bitterly remembered. Even now, it was all about Grandpa Tony’s wants, as he accepted his role in leading the Costas. He cast a baleful glance at the casket as it slowly disappeared beneath the earth.You won, old man.

His underboss and a few of the capos, men that he had grown up with and who now supported him in running the large criminal organization, caught on to their new boss’ sour mood. Admittedly, it wasn’t hard to notice how intensely he scowled at the freshly filled-in grave. They suggested celebrating Thomas’ ascension to head of the family with drinks and a night out, but their idea of a night out was attending a black-market auction and maxing out the organization’s funds on frivolous shit. Powerful drugs, illicit weapons, plundered antiques, and –dear god, did Jaime just buy an arowana?! Thomas looked over the side of his whiskey glass disapprovingly.

He glanced over at a corner of the auction house that seemed to gather a large crowd. He shrugged and decided to join them to see the display. The crowd surrounded an entire floor-to-ceiling wall of glass, behind which stood people from all around the world, each divided into their own little compartments within the glass wall, each of them completely naked. The way they were displayed in those little glass tanks was oddly reminiscent of how fish were displayed at a pet store.

Get a pet, people had said to him. It’ll be good for you, they said, help lift your spirits, they said, if you’re responsible for keeping one little thing alive, maybe you’ll be more motivated to take care of yourself, they said. Surely those people had meant a cat or a dog or a python, and probably not an actual human being. Although, Thomas remembered the people giving him that advice were part of the major crime families of the city, too. Perhaps this was what they meant all along?

Regardless of what those people meant, it was a whole different thing to actually commit to owning a person. He’d never seriously considered it before, but now he found himself thoughtfully observing the merchandise behind the glass. Though there were a few people who were obviously adults, most of them were teens, and most them were girls, though there were a couple boys, too.

Whichever one he’d pick, they would have to be relatively attractive, if he was going to have to bear looking at them at the end of every day. He eyed a glass cell with a stunning blonde girl futilely trying to cover herself with her hands and ignore the gazes directed within her cell. Thomas pushed past the crowd and moved on; pretty girls like that would be swiped up immediately, so it wouldn’t even be worth the trouble to place a bid. The next cell held a freckled boy who leaned into the glass, fogging it up with his breath and writing ‘HELP ME’ over and over again with his finger. Thomas passed on that one, too. One by one he would find something wrong with the human assets behind the glass cases. Too shy, too desperate, not my type, that one just stares ahead and doesn’t even move…

He finally stopped around the last few cells, where a crowd had dissipated from in front of a glass cell with discontented murmurs. Inside that one crouched a small boy, knobby knees drawn to bony chest, thin, tan arms wrapped around his shins, and a head of messy dark hair resting on top his knees. The boy dared to look up from his hiding place. Loose, unruly waves of hair and thick, dark eyelashes nearly covered his expressive dark brown eyes. Those eyes hid nothing as they shone with fear. Thomas gripped the whiskey in his hand a little tighter. The child cut a striking image inside the glass prison, reminding him of a time and a place and an incidence he never liked to think about for long-

To his misfortune, his subordinates caught him staring. “Got your eye on the little slave, Tommy-Boy?” Luca asked as he sauntered up to him.

“Don’t call him that.” Even if that was technically what he would be, the whole concept still took a while for him to get used to. “I just think he’s cute is all,” he mumbled into his glass, draining it of the rest of the whiskey while he tried to convince himself the pink in his cheeks was only from the drink.

“Why don’t you place a bid?” Thomas whipped around to see Jaime lurking behind him. When did he get here? His eyes traveled down to the large picnic cooler on wheels, supposedly where Jaime’s new fish was. “Boss Tony, God rest his soul, left you quite the inheritance, I’m sure you can afford him,” Jamie snickered. He pointed to the sign above the glass cell, where the serial number and QR code were displayed prominently. “142225,” he read.

“Doesn’t he kind of remind you of-”

“You shut up. Right now,” Thomas warned.

“We’ll shut up once you place a bid, now come on! At least look up the little slave!”

Thomas sighed and whipped out his phone; the sooner he scanned the QR Code with the app the black market had made him download, the sooner his underlings would shut the hell up. A profile popped up on his phone screen, the men crowding comically around him to read over his shoulder. 142225 had been collected in Pakistan, was 5’1”, and weighed barely 90 lbs. at the last weigh-in.

“They like to starve the kids here,” Luca explained nonchalantly. “Makes it easier to control them.” Thomas glanced briefly at the thin boy inside the glass, frowning a little as he let that unsettling fact sink in. He quickly scrolled past the blood type, known allergies, and other information he deemed irrelevant to hover his thumb over the ‘PLACE A BID’ button.

“Well, go on, you know you want to!”

“He looks easy enough to take care of, and easy on the eyes, too!”

“We saw how enviously you stared at Matteo’s pet at the last New Year’s party, won’t it be nice to finally have one of your own?”

 Eventually, their peer-pressure resulted in the new mob boss placing a bid, becoming $30k poorer, filling out some ridiculous form about any last-minute body mods he may want, and waiting until the end of the night to collect his new slave and go home. His companions had left hours ago, and every other buyer had gotten their slave already, so it was just him waiting alone in an emptying warehouse, trying to make small talk with one of the event coordinators.

“So, does he have a name?”

She didn’t even look up from her tablet. “He’s named whatever you want to name him.”

“Where is he from? Besides the collection point, where’s he actually from?”

“We don’t know.”

“How old is he?”

“We don’t know.”

Thomas barely suppressed a groan. “Is there anything you do know?” he ground out impatiently.

“Yeah. He looks even cuter when he cries.” The woman smirked over her tablet, looking over Thomas’ right shoulder. “He’s here.”

Thomas turned around to see the boy, now clothed in a white T-shirt and bluish gray sweatpants. He kept his eyes downcast and his hands folded in front of him. “What’s your name, kid?”

The boy looked up briefly before dropping his gaze back to his bare feet. “Khaled,” he replied, voice timid and heavily accented, “but you may call me whatever you want, sir.”

Khaled. He silently rolled the name around on his tongue as if savoring an exotic sweet. Khaled. Thomas cast what he hoped was a reassuring smile, not that Khaled saw it with his gaze fixed to the floor. “Luckily for you, I like your name.” He strode decisively toward the exit, gently placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder to direct him. “Come with me, Khaled.”

In the nearly three-hour car ride back to Thomas’ home, the mob boss learned three things about his new purchase. Firstly, Khaled was shy, only speaking when spoken to and even then, using as few words as possible. Also, Khaled probably didn’t speak much English; how much of this was because he was shy, and how much of this was because he literally couldn’t understand him? And –finally, -Khaled could run. Since the moment the car parked, Khaled dashed out and sprinted into the street. He nearly got hit by a truck before Thomas could chase after him, pull him back, and drag him inside the apartment building. The scene of a grown man dragging a distressed kid who was screaming bloody murder probably shocked some residents, but fortunately the doorman was part of the Costas and did not bat an eye.

“It is too damn early for this!” Thomas complained to himself as he practically threw Khaled into the awaiting elevator. “Do you want to be leashed up like a dog, you little shit?! Cause that’s what’s going to happen if you keep trying to run away!”

“Let go of me, please!” the boy cried, his voice brittle and panicked like a scared, caged animal as he tried to twist out of the punishing grip on his arm.

“Like hell I’m letting you go, not after maxing out my personal credit card on you and pulling an all-nighter for the first time since Kandahar!” He violently jammed the buttons that would take them to the top floor of the high rise.

Soon the elevator dinged, doors swooshing open as they reached the floor of his penthouse. “Come on!” Thomas continued to drag the boy through the hallway, ignoring him begging in that endearing accent of his. Khaled’s complaints all but ceased as soon as he opened the door to his penthouse and let the boy step inside. His eyes widened, sparkling in awe, and his jaw dropped as he let out a reverent “whoa” that transcended any language barrier.

The living room to the penthouse itself was light and spacious, with large floor-to-ceiling windows that let in plenty of natural light, and minimalist décor to accent the living room. A large L-shaped couch dominated the living room and looked over the expansive rooftop and the cityscape beyond it. The rest of the room terminated sharply into a dining area with a large oak table and a wood-floored kitchen with two large granite countertops. An imposingly large door –the door to Thomas’ bedroom, -stood closed to the left of the living room. A hallway to the right branched off into an office on one side, and a guest bathroom opposite. A small staircase right outside the laundry room led to a storage loft spanning above the entrance. Thomas toed off his shoes at the door. Khaled, who wasn’t wearing any shoes, hesitantly walked in. Tom frowned when he noticed the dirty footprints left behind on his beige rug.“Would you like a bath, Khaled?” he suggested. The fact that Khaled didn’t reply made him again wonder how much English he truly understood. We can work on that. He sighed in exasperation as he gripped the boy’s arm and dragged him off to the guest bathroom. Once inside, Thomas deposited him at the entrance and turned on the lights and the fan. He got the shower head running next. Khaled stood silently watching him by the door as he tested the water’s temperature with his hand a few times. He nodded in satisfaction as the water finally reached an agreeable temperature. “Come on in,” he beckoned. Khaled inched closer to the bath tub. “Can I take off your clothes?” he asked. The boy blinked, then shook his head as he quickly took off the shirt himself. The drab sweatpants soon followed, and he quickly stepped into the shower. Thomas drew the curtain to prevent water from spilling and to give him a shred of privacy. As the boy showered, he soon realized Khaled had nothing to wear but that depressing little t-shirt and sweatpants. He took them to the laundry room and chucked them in the hamper, making a mental note to buy some clothes for Khaled as soon as possible. Cute as the small naked boy was, he was still a minor, and Tom didn’t need any extra distractions while he was adjusting to his new role as Boss of the Costa Family.

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump

[love-and-monsters]

Just an alert: I may not be writing much or at all over the next month or so. One of my cats has been sick for a while and we are going to be taking him to the vet tonight to see if he needs to be put down. Even if he does not, we aren’t expecting him to survive much longer. This is the first time I’ve ever lost a dear pet and it’s hitting me really hard. I apologize for the absence.

[another-whump-sideblog]

Jane's Pets Chapter 98: Aftermath

TWs in the tags

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Puppy can't stop crying, and she doesn't know why.

This is good. Great, even. If Master could've prevented herself from healing, it would've come up by now, she's 98% sure of that. This is exactly what Master wanted. This means they won't be hurt anymore. She should be overjoyed.

But there's that 2% of doubt. The fear that this is a test makes Puppy want to put her muzzle and collar right back on. Every second she doesn't is another infraction, another reason for Master to punish her. Still, that's not the reason she's crying. It's something deeper than fear.

Is she grieving? For Master? She wanted to die. This is the best thing for everyone. The world has already gotten better because she died. 

Still, it hurts to look at Master's body. She looks the same as any mudered child would. Puppy had always thought Master's corpse would be smiling if she somehow managed to die, but it's not. She just looks like a corpse, like someone sleeping with their eyes open.

Puppy closes Master's eyes. She really doesn't know why she's crying. Why is this so painful? This is the good ending. The outcome so good that she tried not to even think about it as a possibility because hope just hurts. If she can't be happy now, will she ever be happy?

She supposes that if Master's death didn't cause her suffering, she wouldn't have been able to kill Master at all. Maybe this is just how the magic works. She hopes it doesn't last long, she's not much use to Kitty and Bunny like this.

Strong arms wrap her in a hug. 

"It's okay, it's okay." Bunny says, gently rocking back and forth. "We're safe, it's okay, it's okay for the first time in years. We're okay. And it's okay to cry. Let it all out, no one's going to stop you."

She lays her head on his shoulder and cries until she has no tears left, which isn't long at all. She's going to have to drink water without permission, eventually. She shudders.

“It would’ve come up by now if she could… leave her wounds open like that, right? In your opinion?”

Puppy nods.

“That’s what I thought! Like, I don’t think she had the patience for such a long trick.”

Puppy doesn’t either, but she's been wrong before.

“Um… I know it’s probably going to take a while for you to feel comfortable talking. That’s okay. It took me a while to feel comfortable without the collar, when I was… gone. And it’ll probably take a while again. So just know… it’s okay. There’s no rush. But also, I’m really excited to talk to you again, whether that’s today or years from now or anything in between. I’m excited to get to know you outside of Jane’s control— and to get to know Kitty outside of Jane’s control, and for you two to know me.”

It was just days ago that Puppy broke his hands. He was able to heal them, with Kitty’s help, but she still did it. It scares her, that he thinks there’s a real her hidden beneath what Master made her into. What if he’s wrong? It’ll hurt him so badly when he realizes he’s wrong…

Because she didn’t have to break his hands. Jane didn’t make her do that, she did that to stop Bunny from casting because she thought it was impossible for Master to die, and she was wrong. She made the wrong choice, and that’s not some simple mistake. She broke the hands of one of the two people she loves most in the world for no reason. She only made things worse.

She wants to apologize. She tries, but just the thought of speaking makes her throat close up with fear.

She thinks maybe this is part of why she was crying. She did so many horrible things under the assumption that there was no alternative, and it turns out there was. Master’s death is the death of her ability to justify how much she’s hurt people. She can’t push away her guilt without that justification, and it swallows her whole.

She should just die. She’s just like Master, the world would be better without her. Death was the answer to Master's problems, so it can be hers, too. She should just stay by Master’s side until she dies of dehydration like Master would want her to do. That would help the others, too, because Master would never let her die so quickly if she was just tricking them, so they could be even more sure Master is truly dead.

“I think… we should go upstairs.” Kitty says from somewhere behind her. “I don’t want to be here if we don’t have to.”

Puppy shakes her head. She’s not going to leave Master’s side. It’s the best for everyone.

Bunny hugs her a little tighter. “Puppy shook her head. Um… I don’t want any of us to be left alone right now…”

Kitty sighs. “Alright. So… what do we do now?”

Puppy wishes she could go upstairs. Obviously Bunny and Kitty don’t want to be here, and they’re staying for her. Just more suffering she’s causing them.

Bunny is quiet for a moment. "…What if it's not real? I feel so sure that if she could do that while she was alive she would've done it by now… but I felt so sure that Barron's magic could protect me, too. And that she was a safe person to follow home in the first place. And even after all the times I tried… it feels too easy."

"Well, you had doubts… you just pushed them away, right?"

"Well, yeah… Yeah, I guess that's it. I don't want to push the doubts away this time, and I'm afraid she's not actually dead." He goes quiet again, then starts laughing. "Fuck, I'm so stupid. If she's dead, magic won't work anymore, right?"

Bunny lets go of Puppy and gets up. "Magic doesn't work if you're trying to prove something, so I'll try to heal one of you. Um… I'm more certain that it might work on the Puppy's pressure sores than on acid burns, so I'll try that first."

Puppy lies down on the ground facing Master while Bunny collects his materials. Master's blood is mostly dry now.

Bunny says some words and does his thing, and Puppy doesn't feel anything change.

"We would definitely know if she could just… get rid of magic, right?"

Puppy nods. Master hated mages. The chance of her having the ability to get rid of all mages and not using it until now is even lower than the chance of her having the ability to not instantly heal and not using it until now.

"So– I mean, I could've wanted to prove she was dead badly enough to skew the results, but still. I also really wanted to heal you. This is– we have much more evidence that we're free this time than we ever had before, right? So we're not pushing away doubts, we're disproving them! Like, I ignored the sketchy things going on here when I first got here. I ignored how certain you and Puppy were that escaping wouldn't work, and how magic doesn't affect Jane the same way as it does everything else, when my only evidence I was safe was Barron's magic. I ignored evidence, but I'm not this time. The only evidence we have that she's alive is that she's tricked us before. And if we encounter more evidence, we definitely shouldn't ignore that, but for now… I think we can assume we're free. That's– that's what the evidence points to."

"Right, right. And… the worst that could happen if we assume she's dead and we're wrong is torture. Which is bad, obviously, but if we assume she's still alive and we're wrong… we'd torture ourselves trying to stick to her rules. And Puppy would die, because those rules include her not eating or drinking without permission. I'd… honestly prefer the former."

"Yeah, yeah!"

Their voices have slowly filled with excitement throughout the conversation. Puppy's happy for them. Once she's dead, they most likely won't ever have to worry about being tortured again.

"So– okay, I think our first step is– well, I'm thinking obviously we want to move out of here as soon as possible, right?" Bunny asks.

"Right. We can pack up some clothes and food, and Puppy will probably want to take her plushies. Everything else we can leave behind."

Puppy stops staring at Master's corpse for a moment and looks at the others. They should sell a bunch of this stuff, but how can she tell them that? She can't force herself to speak no matter how hard she tries. She turns back to Master.

"Where do you think we should go once we're packed?" Bunny is pacing the room excitedly.

“Well, Puppy knows how to get to the nearest grocery store, so that’s at least a start. Once we’re… around some other people… it’ll probably be easier to figure out our other options.”

“Hmm… Puppy, do you feel good about that plan?”

Puppy shakes her head.

“...Okay, so the first step is all getting on the same page. Do you want to keep living in this house?” Bunny’s voice is full of determination, the same way it was whenever he’d talk about killing Jane.

Puppy shakes her head. She doesn’t want to live at all.

“So we’re on the same page there, at least.” Kitty says. “Sorry for not checking sooner. Do you feel good about us packing up some food, clothes, and sentimental items before leaving?”

Puppy sits up and makes a 'so-so' gesture.

"Um… is there something else you think we should bring?"

Puppy makes another 'so-so' gesture.

"Hm…" 

Both Kitty and Bunny seem fairly stumped. Puppy guesses that's fair, she probably wouldn't be able to figure out what she meant either if she was in their shoes. Even if she can nonverbally convey that she wants them to sell stuff, how could she instruct them on who to sell it to avoid unwanted questions?

She'll have to write it down. The idea scares her, but not as much as the idea of speaking does. She guesses she's never actually been punished for writing or signing without permission, because by the time those rules were established she was already very obedient. Thinking of speaking without permission brings to mind burning hot barbed wire digging into every part of her body, but thinking of writing without permission just brings up a general fear of disobedience.

She can't die yet. Bunny and Kitty need her. She'll probably have to be the one to actually sell the stuff, too. She sighs and scoops Master's body into her arms, then heads upstairs.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else, or if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @thecosmicmap @quins-whump-stuff

@fuckcapitalismasshole

[naomiknight-17]

Managed to summon the courage to text my cousin (the one whose Dad just died) and arranged to go visit him on Friday

I am planning on bringing him his favorite cookies that I make. I am open to suggestions on what else to bring to a man who has now lost both his parents

[makingshortstorieslong]

Rest in peace, Blackie.

She was only mine for 2 years after being my grandparents' baby for 12 but she was the best roommate I ever had and maybe the best I ever will have. My grandpa named her Blackie (and her friend "Orangey") when she was a street cat he was feeding. My grandma named her Bebe when they brought her into the house. I called her "Cat" and "Babes" and "Blackie" and "Blackie-baby" and "Bebe." She liked to have her cheeks brushed and to sit in the same room with me while I studied and sometimes to play fiercely with a ribbon for about five minutes before calling it a night, and after she warmed up to living with me she used to wait at the bottom of the stairs until I would go up to bed so she could curl up taking up most of my pillow and purr me to sleep. She's been living with my parents the last two years and was probably 18 or 19. The last time I saw her was last August and I'm not shocked that I won't see her again but I will continue to miss her as I already have been doing. I saw her on a video call before the end and my brother gave her a forehead kiss for me. I used to always kiss her right there. Goodbye, baby. I love you.

[valeroyeaux]

was explaining to my pottery class that part of the reason we got stanzi so quickly after tess died was bc rizzo was not adapting well to being an only dog and they were like “lol so you got your dog a dog” and yeah. yeah. y

[icewindandboringhorror]

Bad news, got back from the vet and my beautiful baby son is going to have to be put down soon, probably tomorrow or the next day, so send him best of wishes for his next few days~ Luckily, he's actually not in a lot of pain (for now, hopefully he won't be) and is acting pretty normal, so I'm hoping he won't suffer at all and everything will be peaceful for him.

[vindersdraws]

[𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕀 𝔽𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖]

Lady Luck hasn’t treated our little family well lately. Yesterday we found out that our eldest girl has lymphoma, she has two large tumors between her back legs and at least one attached to her other kidney, we will know more next week when the lab results come, but until then everything will be uncertain. She has some meds to help her pass stools and maybe shrink the tumors, but we’ll know how aggressive her lymphoma is and if there is any hope of beginning treating them next week, but it’s not looking good in all honesty. We don’t know if we have days, weeks, or months with her.

Right now she’s doing quite well, she eats well, her fur is shiny and she wants to play. We’ll make sure she’s comfortable if nothing can be done otherwise. Even though she’s already ten years old, I’m absolutely devastated. We lost our dog just one year ago and I love our pets dearly. Getting a pet usually means you will be there for their whole life span, but it doesn’t get any easier to see one pass away no matter how many times you witness it. I was supposed to attend an artist alley this weekend, but I’m staying at home with my girl.

If you have any pets, please give them lots of hugs, kisses and treats for them today for us.

[starry-beetle]

Accidentally long post about my life ( positive, though! )

September gonna be super busy for me IRL but, at least this has made me finally sit down and fix up my daily schedules. If I manage to set aside 2 hours a day for drawing, that will really make a HUGE difference! Since we moved, I haven't had any schedule at all. Going from a workspace that was soundproof to a tiny house with no privacy ( Barry sleeps in the day and works at night, so if I'm awake I gotta sit in the living room/kitchen… ) was a huge change

THEN

Girl Dog got sick in 2023 the whole year ( dementia… she didn't remember me some days near the end. It sucked. ) and that lead to some of the most disorganized time I've had, since my teen years.

I'm getting back on track. I miss her every hour, of every day. Yet I am starting to write again! ( for myself to eat stupid shit like Urameshi Yuusuke teaching Yukina how to cook donuts and talking about PTSD without. saying it's PTSD, stuff ) I've been reading a lot of books and listening to many audiobooks while doing tasks! I've been catching up on backlogged art to the point I have 3 more old digital comms to finish and that's it!

Things have been rough but they've also been looking up. I'm even starting to feel about video games like I did, in my teen years.

[theha1r]

hey y’all the past two days have just been busy amongst other things, today was a bit emotionally draining (i wanna also while i’m saying this clear things up rq if you saw my post earlier but didn’t read the full thing or only saw the tags - i haven’t dealt with a pet loss yet, but my hamster is currently on his final days & i was just letting out some feeling abt it. but i appreciate everyone’s kind words <3). anyways - i will aim to be on tomorrow. i’m really hoping i should be, i took care of like everything i needed to today & the only kiddo that should be over (for the first half of the day at least) is the baby & it’s a lot less hands on when it’s just her. but anywaysss i’ll hopefully talk to you all & get back to everything i owe & messages & such then. i love you all very muchly mwah mwah <3

[spinoff-antithesis]

kitty picture perhaps?

cracks knuckles. i have a whole gallery that’s a year out of date and you have incredibly perfect timing.

i also cannot add a break on mobile. sorry in advance (not really)

this loaf is luke! he’s my eldest - five years old & i share a birthday with him :) he got yoinked out of a neighbor’s car with his sister by my mom & the neighbor and i found him in the garage a week later bc my mom managed to keep him & leia under wraps and hidden from me for a WEEK. i still don’t know how she did it. he is picky abt cuddling but boy does he love sitting on my fucking ribs. every time. he’s also started cuddling more with me now that i’ve got my weighted blanket out - i think he likes how cool it is. also he only eats out of his food bowl and will sniff my food. most he steals is a lick of mac & cheese. (charm will steal my food if i leave it unattended, for comparison)

this little creature is charm!! she’s uh. a year. i think. maybe two next month?? she was ~6mon when i adopted her from petsmart in may 2022. historically the only cat i have ever paid for. she lost a brain cell with her leg and i love her so badly she was curled up against my chest while i was sitting against my door a while ago and bit my hand while i was petting her so i bit her back (lightly). we are also very lucky to have her bc she almost got adopted before my mom & i showed up and my mom’s car broke down the night we saw her so we had to get her the day i left the country for a study abroad. happy early 21st birthday to me i got a cat. also a little rat and a thief. i love her so badly please stop getting into fights with luke.

this goober is sunset!! there’s lore behind how we got her and the tldr of it is that she may have loosely belonged to someone else but uhhh scratches head no microchip no collar friendly cat running around at late hours free game. (there’s more context it’s just funnier like this). we got her the week before i got my job (early september) & i’ve literally no idea how old she is. had her for a week took her to the vet and got told “yeah shes either 7month or 4yr old. we don’t know.” so she’s ????? years old. also found out she was in fact NOT a boy and definitely a few weeks pregnant when we took her to the vet. my little rarity.

i do not have many pictures of this tiny screamy baby due to the fact it is LITERALLY A FEW HOURS OLD born. somewhere between 2pm-5:30pm oct. 17th 2023. it’s sunset’s baby it’s fucking adorable i can hold it in the literal palm of my hand and i will be training it to be a shoulder cat bc i miss my fucking shoulder cat. so badly. little screamy has no name and we do not know its gender quite yet considering that it is maybe 10-12hr old i also don’t really think it’s that imperative because i’m hoping it also survives its first night and sunset doesn’t accidentally crush it. but its so tiny oh my god (it will be named after some sort of star. probably polaris, dipper, corvus, or orion) it is also an only child as of 2am 10/18/23).

anyway tldr i got 3/5 cats by yoinking them off the street paid for 1 (one) at petsmart and the other was born maybe ten hours ago. so. :) also theyre my babies i will literally spam pictures of them i do not care my personal instagram is mostly cat pictures.

[izzy-b-hands]

12, 15, 34, 46?

Ella!! Thank u for asking 🫂🫂❤️❤️

(also apologies i am stoned and wordy aksndkfgn)

12. Your favourite book

I have a few answers for this one, but narrowed it down to the one I'm saving up to buy a new copy of eventually: Last Night at the Lobster by Stewart O'Nan.

It's fairly short, and the story subjects/setting are modern and mundane (or at least that's the critique i see leveled at it a lot, tho to me like. That's part of the punch of the entire book, but they can have their opinions, incorrect tho they may be lol), but like. the first time i read it, it just Did Something to me lmao. Part of it was the customer service experience thing, tho different industries (library at the time for me compared to restaurant in the book), and the experience in it of feeling like/having it confirmed that you, as an employee, are continually being handed more and more stress and responsibility for less reward, but you can't just drop it bc you like/tolerate your coworkers, and even on the days they piss you off, you want the best for them. And then the fallout of when a decision comes down from above your level that's shit for everyone, but you're left bearing the brunt of it from coworkers and customers alike. Very relatable, very realistically written to the point it almost makes you squirm.

The characters are all well written and realistic too; you wind up feeling like you could walk into this Lobster right now and talk to all these ppl irl, easily. That makes it just as hard at the ending to say goodbye tbh, and that's given it massive reread value for me (i think since i first read it end of HS I've since managed a reread every year to every other year. I actually accidentally packed away my copy when moving and it's been killing me not being able to do a reread rn, but i want to wait until i can have my own copy to keep again.)

Anyway i think most libraries should have it, and it's not a horribly expensive ebook, so if ur looking for a sign to read Last Night at the Lobster, this is it 🙌❤️🦞

15. Do you remember your last dream

Kind of? Tbh I passed out really hard earlier (still not sleeping amazingly with the back lol) and vaguely recall the weird, fever dreamish stuff my brain was throwing at me. That consisted of what i believe to be, ongoing all at once in the same room:

-a Tom Waits concert, with him holding but not playing an accordion

-a Bob Geldof interview, except it was Bob as he looked in the 90s

-a fire, which everyone who wasn't listening to Tom or Bob were attempting to put out by passing exactly one bucket back and forth to the inexplicable bar sink that sort of appeared and disappeared at will

Everything else was too much of a blur, but those bits really stuck out lmao 😂

34. Something old

I like this question, weirdly enough, bc I'm not one hundred percent sure how to answer it. It's vague, so i think I'm safe to interpret it kinda.. however?

(if i have that wrong tho do pls lemme know, I won't be offended and will re-answer this one if that's the case lol)

In terms of something old, I keep thinking abt my grandparents old house, even tho it's silly to do so (the thing has been sold for months now.)

Thing of it is, as of the last rare phone convo i had with my grandparents, it sounds like they really regret selling. The lack of stairs at the new place is better for their joints but like. They clearly miss the old one, the unique things that made it theirs and familiar.

Grandpa in particular mentioned a few things specific to the house that he misses, but the one that took me out was abt a bit of painted wood in the front doorway. When i was like. 6? 7? old enough to know better but still stupid enough to do it, i wrote my (dead) name on that bit of doorway, in pencil. For whatever reason, they couldn't ever get it to erase much at all, and never painted over it despite talking abt it a lot (they were soooo pissed at me the day i did it and the months after lmao), so it was still there when they sold the house.

And Grandpa tells me he wishes he would have bought some wood scraps, torn out just that bit of the doorway, and then fixed it and repainted it. Says he would have had someone reframe the whole door if needed. He even has a little shelf where he's been putting grandkid related knick knacks, that he'd put it on, apparently.

Couldn't tell him bc emotions and being that vulnerable are difficult for him, so i never want to push when he's opening up to me like that, but goddamn if he didn't make me cry with that, and i wanted to tell him how sweet it was, and that i miss the house too.

I miss that whenever Housemate and i make it back to visit ND, i won't be able to show aer the house i basically grew up in. I won't be able to show off the shed my grandpa built, say hi to Sally (mum's passed on cat from years ago, buried in the backyard with her name carved by grandpa into the wood barrier between the rock/gravel area and the bottom of the shed), lay in the backyard together under the huge tree while we snack and sip drinks (bc grandma doesn't let anyone leave the house without being fed if she can help it.) I won't get to show that spot by the front door, or show all the other million little quirky things that made the house so lovely.

If i have my way, age of the house and my own age at the time be damned, whenever I've made enough money to do it and have plenty left over, I'd love to buy the house myself. Not to live in all the time (jfc absolutely NOT i love the house but not ND lol), but to have for like. Maybe summer trips? there's enough room we could pick up friends in the area and have them come stay in the house too, tbh. I don't like the idea of it sitting empty whenever i wouldn't be there, so maybe I'd offer it to the cousins rent free to share? Take turns staying there, maybe help grandma and grandpa back to see it now and again. Idk. I just always dreamed of buying the dang thing, even if i never wanted to permanently stay in ND (and still v much do not want that, I like CT far better.)

46. Are you excited for anything

A few things rn! Housemate helped me save up enough and is going with me to see Avatar this month, and it'll be my first full show of theirs, and Housemate's first time seeing them at all!! (my first time seeing them they were just opening for Trivium lmao, so it was amazing!! but a bit of a cut down set list/overall thing, u know? didn't stay for Trivium's entire set but they were lovely too!)

We've also got several little weekend trips partially planned out: Mystic, a local flea market, a couple different beaches, getting up to York and over to Newport, plus maybe the big E and the ren faire in the fall!! I don't know if we'll manage all of it over the next few months, but I'm excited for whatever we get to!

Apologies I'm quite toasty so I'm feeling overwhelming positive for once, so i do have more! I sent a job app in to an OD office in the local costco, for a fairly chill seeming reception role, and I'm really hoping they'll want me. It seems a small enough office to be calmer than my old one, and that it's OD only and not an MD/OD office makes me feel a lot better abt it too (eye surgeons are amazing, they can do amazing wonderful things, i am grateful for them all. however. im also 97% sure 5 out of the 10 i know personally could hit me with their car and not blink, the god complex thing some surgeons have gets SO amped with this speciality in my experience, it's WILD, but I digress.)

My back is slowly getting better too (tho I've been humbled again the last few days in the nights and early mornings, it's still very angry at those times), so I'm also just looking forward to like. Being able to move more again. Standing up to do the dishes without my back spasming. Maybe even leaving the house again and doing one of the fun things noted above, tho i know i shouldn't rush it or my back will humble me again without a second thought lmaoooo 😅)

[billowingangel]

America doesn't like Fireworks

Here's a headcanon/projection I have for America. I also thought I already posted this but I actually dreamt that…totally not a sign of #mentalillness

content warning: mentions of multiple real life deaths, great war and world war two are mentioned, mentions of ptsd/shell shock.

i'm not fully sure those need a warning but just in case I wanted to provide them.

At first America loved fireworks to celebrate the fourth of july. He had loved the display of colors and patronism his citizens showed! He was a freshly indepent nation when the fireworks began in 1777. He thought they were beautiful, amazing, spectacular, and a wonderful sign of what the future would hold.

He also greatly prefered fireworks to the guns and canons set off during the 4th and was happy that after 1812 that phased out.

When Independence Day became an offical holiday in 1870 he cried with joy. That year he watched the firework display with an intense feeling of pride in his heart.

But then it began to change for him. In the years between 1903 and 1909 there were 44 deaths due to fireworks and even more injuries. He began to feel a bit of unease over the citizen's love for fireworks.

Then the Great War happened...So many young men came back from the war shell shocked. Hell, America even had some shell shock for a while. That first year after the war and the fireworks going off, he felt all those men's fears and his own fear.

That was a major turning point for him.

It didn't help that between 1928 and 1942 there were another 56 deaths in factories and stores due to fireworks. And then after World War Two, the sound of fireworks began to make America's heart race.

After a few years America decided he would leave his big house in Washington DC and go to another one of his houses. This house was further away from any firework show the city was doing. He wouldn't feel anxious and would be able to celebrate his independence/birthday in peace and quiet. But by that time it was the 1980s and more people were doing fireworks in the comfort of their backyards. The noise and smoke that filled the street of America's suburban house terrified him. Were they under attack? He had rushed to investigate only to find people with fireworks and firecrackers.

America gave up, it was probably just him upset by this whole mess. Those who had shell shock probably got used to it by now, correct?

But then in the 2000s he began to hear more talk, more talk of veterans struggling with the fireworks. Dogs struggling with the fireworks. Pets, kids, many more people then he assumed were scared of the loud fireworks. And in a way it explained to him why at the turn on the 1900s he began to have a change of heart about fireworks, a feeling of unease and uncomfort. Because despite how much he partied or celebrated on July 4th he still just didn't feel right, that something was wrong.

Then more and more states began to ban the setting off of fireworks for personal use but that wouldn't stop the citizens despite the growing number of people who found discomfort with them. America wouldn't go anywhere in the South around the 4th of July mostly staying in States that had the strictest bans on fireworks. By this time his fear of fireworks had greatly decreased especially since he realized the cause, it wasn't all his feelings but Americans feelings as well.

He even began to host some birthday parties where you could see the city sanctioned firework show. Firework shows were different to him then just the random ones in someone's back yard, those were expected, well controlled, a professional was doing it.

America hopes that one day he'll be able to like fireworks again but that probably wouldn't be until people stopped doing it on their own or when people and animals stopped being upset by it. Both those cases seem unlikely, so America will just grit his teeth and accept the firework tradition.

I even used some sources for this *insert surprise pikachu* History of Fireworks Firework Accidents and Deaths I couldn't find out when it became the norm to do your own fireworks but I assumed at least by the 80s. I also believe states began putting in place bans/laws about personal fireworks in the early 2000s but don't quote me.

[thecatamaranlad]

i want to love the way my mother loves her cat

i heard lulu crying outside my house a week after my mom's old cat passed on, and i turned to my wife and said, "if that's another kitten, she must have sent it."

lulu wasn't a kitten. she was three, chunky, and didn't approve of her owner's stepson's dog. so her owner was turning her out because she wouldn't stop rage-peeing on the carpet.

they were happy to give her to a new home. and probably so was she.

lulu was -- and is -- shy but sweet. she didn't cause any problems at my mom's house, dog-free.

(my brother didn't like her much, but we told him to stuff it. that's another lesson in love, i think.)

lulu had started to find her favorite spots in my mother's house, to sleep on the bed, etc.

then my mother's neighbor's cat died.

lulu has the run of the condo complex -- she started visiting the neighbors more when they watched her while my mom was gone.

now she comes "home" to my mom only rarely.

the neighbors apologized, offered to chase her away, sorry that they "stole her cat".

but they love lulu, and she loves them.

and my mom loves her too.

so my mom's response was that lulu is a cat.

let her be.

let her choose.

i want to love people the way my mom loves her cat.