#3 Month Old Cat Spraying

[itsalmostavengers]

“I still hate you,” Tony mutters, voice shaky and entirely unconvinced while his hand expertly unbuckles the clasps of the uniform he designed so carefully, months and months and months ago.

“I know,” Steve responds gruffly. His beard scratches Tony’s jaw as those perfect teeth run down the thin skin of his neck, trace his jugular. His hands are rough iron clamps against each side of Tony’s beautifully tailored Versace two-piece. The fabric will be ruined beyond repair in less than ten minutes - Tony could bet his fortune on it.

They’ve played this stupid game before. Every time, Tony swears it’ll be the last.

Steve hitches him up onto the kitchen counter of the ridiculous New Jersey safehouse, and Tony goes willingly, yanking Steve into the open spread of his legs. This is the closest Steve’s gotten to New York since he first read those damned accords. The closest he can get to home is some 1965-styled kitchenette with pictures of old-timey adverts lining the walls and a microwave that’d probably irradiate you if you went near it.

It’s wrong- all of it. But there’s no changing it. Steve made his choice long ago, and Tony hates him for it. He should remember that. He should tell Steve that again.

“Fuck, God, Steve,” is what comes out instead, breathed against the other man’s mouth. Tony’s whole body is hot, taught, desperate, and he tugs the top half of Steve’s uniform off his torso. Steve spray painted over the colours- the whole thing is dark now, void of any trace of what it used to be. Tony hates that too.

“Tony,” Steve says, like there’s more to it- a name at the beginning of a sentence which never comes out. He clasps his teeth over Tony’s bottom lip, pushes his hands under Tony’s rapidly-wrinkling shirt and brushes his thumbs over each nipple, rubbing quick circles. The movement pulls another noise from Tony’s throat.

Fuck- the man knows him.

Steve steadies himself for a moment to catch his breath, nose brushing against Tony’s. Tony tries not to look into his eyes, whenever they do this. He’s never been good at seeing Steve’s soul - the one he never tries to hide, to mask. He’s not like Tony, you see. Everything he does, he does earnestly and from the heart.

The decision he made to leave with Bucky - to keep the culprit of Tony’s parents’ deaths a secret from him - they’d both come from that same heart. Hence, no eye contact. Tony has no desire to see how truly insignificant the space he takes up in Steve’s soul was.

Except now.

He does it without meaning to- just catching sight of those infuriating baby blues as he leans in for another messy kiss. Error number 1.

Error number 2 is not shutting his damn eyes and grabbing Steve’s dick like he normally does.

And error number 3 is the worst. Error number 3 is when he catches sight of Steve’s suddenly agonised expression, doesn’t ignore it, and instead asks “what?” Thus inviting conversation. They don’t come here for that. They come here to fuck eachother’s brains out for a night and then keep playing their cat-and-mouse chase across the globe as if anyone in a position of authority actually fucking believes it.

Steve goes perfectly still for a moment. Then he swallows. “This… this really makes you miserable, doesn’t it.”

He doesn’t frame it like a question.

Tony looks up at him, breathing hard. “Oh, I’m sorry I’m not looking ecstatic while getting groped by my ex boyfriend in a place that’s decked out like a prop house in a nuclear testing site. Would you prefer for me to giggle jovially while you fuck me amongst the dust and cobwebs?”

They’d used to have sex that was so full of love. This is how Tony always talks to Steve, now.

Steve shakes his head, a minute, grieving little thing. Tony feels the man’s breath skating across his face- feels the warmth of his bare chest, his shoulders, pressing against Tony.

“I thought…” he begins, then trails off for a moment as Tony skirts his hands down his chest, unlatches his belt. “I thought this made you happy. At least a little bit, even if you didn’t admit it. But it doesn’t. ”

Of course it doesn’t. But it’s all I have left of you.

“You think I’m coming here to find happiness? Jesus Steve. I’m coming here for tension relief,” Tony says, because he just can’t be truthful- he did his best when they were together, he really did, and it all failed anyway. Besides: Steve was never as truthful as Tony had always so fervently believed him to be either. “How about we both just stop talking and get down to that part.”

He gets his hands all the way to Steve’s boxers before Steve stops him- a gentle yet utterly unmoving grip. When Tony looks up at him again, Steve shakes his head. He’s grey in the face- if Tony didn’t know better now, he’d even say heartbroken.

“Tony, I…” Steve’s struggling for the words and he looks so beautiful, so so beautiful, just the same as the very first time Tony laid eyes on his photograph in the SHIELD folder he’d hacked his way into. “I didn’t realise you felt that way. Or maybe I did, but just didn’t want to acknowledge it because I was selfish.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I can’t do this with you. To you.” Steve steps away jerkily, half his body lagging while the other half pulls, as if warring with his own system. His pale skin is patchy, covered in faint marks where Tony has grabbed him. “I thought we were both doing this for enjoyment, but you’re not, and so I can’t. It’s cruel.”

Tony realises what Steve is implying here. His heart - what’s left of the poor thing anyway - convulses in panic, and he stumbles off the counter. “I’m not a fucking dog,” he snaps, “I make my own choices.”

“You don’t even look at me,” Steve’s voice breaks then. “I wished more than anything that you’d look at me. But I just saw it, then, when you did.”

“Saw what?”

They’re facing off against one another now - it’s like they can’t stop themselves. They have to be on either side of the argument, they can never just agree, no matter how hard they both want to. Tony hates and hates and hates.

“Your eyes don’t lie to me, Tony.” Steve’s voice is soft, and he says it like that alone is enough. “Your mouth does. And you don’t want this.”

“See, do you see what you’re doing here, again?” Tony steps forward, smashes his finger against the place where the star used to sit proudly on Steve’s chest. “You’re making an executive decision about how I feel, as to what I need, when you don’t have that right. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me!”

“But you never do what’s best for you!” Steve’s hands flail helplessly. “You do what’s best for everyone else, or what you think you deserve, and you never think about how it’s going to hurt—“

“I DESERVED TO KNOW MY PARENTS WERE MURDERED, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!”

Tony was supposed to be making his way to an orgasm right about now - instead he suddenly feels so angry he can hardly breathe. Fucking typical. He just had to go and open his mouth, didn’t he?

He glares at the man who tore his heart out over a year ago. Steve looks back, his expression shattered. Tony feels angrier still when he realises that he’s never going to be able to see this person in front of him and not love him. He’s trying so hard, right now, and he can’t. Even after all this. He can’t find it in him.

“Just fuck me,” Tony says, and it comes out more exhausted than demanding.

Steve shakes his head. “I can’t.”

Right. Steve’s made up his mind about what’s best for tony. Again. Was it ever going to go any other way?

Sometimes, the tiredness goes so deep that Tony starts to feel it in his bones. His therapist says it’s psychosomatic- that bones don’t actually creak and groan like wooden doors in abandoned houses. Tony begs to differ.

“If we stop now, this is the last time you’ll ever see me,” he says, hoping, even now, that maybe something will change. That maybe for once, Steve will just put him first.

It’s a pipe dream. Tony comes to that realisation as soon as Steve shakes his head. Stupid.

“Maybe that’s for the best.” Steve’s voice is hoarse. Like each word is painful. Tony wishes that were true - in reality, he doesn’t doubt Steve is just wary of the fight his words will bring - the argument that’ll erupt out of Tony’s mouth in response.

But Tony’s done fighting. It’s a losing battle. Always has been.

He looks at Steve. Nods.

He walks out of the door without another word.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for throwing out expired food from the family fridge?

I (17F) live with my dad (54M) and my mom (53F), but my mom works out of the country a lot. My dad is normal and seems to have a sense of shame(? for lack of a better word) when my mom's at home, but when she's working abroad, sometimes for months at a time, my dad kinda spirals. Necessary background is I'm also mildly immunocompromised.

When mom's home, he never does weird stuff, but once she's been gone for about 3 weeks, he starts getting weird.

He does things like cut mold chunks out of (soft) cheese and then put it back in the fridge, and once full on tried to convince me that so called 'live foods' like yogurt and kefir and tofu don't expire because 'they're already fermented' and putting expiration dates on them is either (when he's being more normal) a technicality/regulation or (when he's being weirder) a lie by Big Grocery™ to sell more food (for those who aren't familiar, live foods are fermented in specific ways with very specific bacteria, after they expire they go bad with things like mold just like any other food).

I've tried ignoring it and just not eating it, but it was making the other food in the fridge go bad faster and my dad started getting food poisoning symptoms, also my dad wouldn't buy new food if there was an expired one still in the fridge. Also, with things like the cheese, when he puts it back, I risk eating moldy food without realising it cuz there's no way to tell a mold chunk was cut out until I bite it and taste mold alos on multiple occasions, I've said I tasted mold in something and my dad has lied saying he didn't do this, only for me to see the moldy cheese trimmings in the garbage later when I'm throwing something away.

I've talked with my dad about this and it always goes something like this:

My dad: *drinks a pintglass of expired newman's own lemonaid*

*15 minutes later*

Dad: *coming back from the bathroom* I just had explosive diarrhea.

Me: You know how you drank a glass of expired lemona—

Dad: And it's delicious!

Me: Well, I'm just worried it's making you sick...

My dad: *5 minute rant about Big Grocery™*

Anyway, I started just throwing out the expired stuff, but he'd take it out of the garbage, even when there was something nasty on it, like used coffee grounds or 12 hour old egg shells dripping salmonella-y egg. So I started opening the containers of expired food and spilling them into the garbage bag (they're hefty bags, so it's not making a mess in the can) and sometimes I'd put a handfull of (clean/unused) cat litter into the bag too if it was something like bad produce (think limp carrots or slimey lettuce) so he couldn't just rince it and put it back.

Then I cleaned the fridge with bleach spray and now things aren't going moldy as fast and we have so much more room in there (I didn't get rid of anything but expired food, I wiped non-expired containers off with the bleach spray and put them back), also, my dad's stomach problems have stopped.

I still don't think I did anything wrong, since I know my mom would have done this the second she came home and my dad wouldn't have objected, but since I did it, he yelled at me for wasting money, called me a stooge to Big Grocery™ and compared me to his brother, who thinks leftovers go bad in the time it takes to drive home.

What are these acronyms?

[swabian-princess]

Domestic engineer tales - daily cleaning routine

Hey girlies,

as we all know - I'm a proud domestic engineer (aka SAHGF) and while this life is very soft I still have responsibilities. One of them is cleaning.

I grew up with a mother that wasn't about cleaning all the time. Sure, the basics were always done but she wasn't bothered if some pet hair was on the couch or if the kitchen wasn't cleaned until the next day.

Well, my bf is the direct opposite. He hates dirt, dust, stains, pet hair and the list goes on. Basically - he wants our apartment to look like nobody lives there. He's a perfectionist and he can't relax if he suspects the apartment is not clean. That's when I enter the game - it's my task to tidy the apartment every day, so he can come home and simply relax.

I'm not going to lie - it was really rough in the beginning because it seems like this man can smell a faint stain on a towel ten miles away.

Realize that maintenance is key!

It took some time for me to realize this. Just trust me - it's way easier to clean just a little bit every day than to spend hours cleaning once a week.

1. vacuuming

My first step is always vacuuming the whole apartment. I need roughly 30-45 min to thoroughly vacuum the apartment. My holy grail tip is to invest in a wireless vacuum cleaner. It doesn't have to be the newest dyson! In fact, bf and I have three vacuum cleaners: two dysons, one of them wireless and one Phillips, and I absolutely prefer the Philipps one over both the dysons.

2. dusting

I hate dust. It makes my nose itch and my eyes water - so there is a strong no dust policy in my home! I just grab an good old swiffer and simply dust off all my counters and all the surfaces in the apartment.

3. disinfect

I blame the pandemic for my urge to disinfect everything. I love sagrotan cleaning wipes and I always buy them in bulk when they're on sale. I wipe down my kitchen counters and every other surface in the apartment. I've been doing this for a few months now and I don't see any damage on our furniture that could be caused by the wipes.

I also wipe down my bathrooms - my sink, the water taps and the complete toilet. I also spray down the toilet and my door handles with disinfectantspray for extra protection.

4. polishing

We have quite a few glass surfaces that need to be polished every day because they tend to get grease stains very easily. I take a microfiber towel and a cotton towel and spray those surfaces with a special glass cleaner, rub it in with the microfiber towel and dry with the cotton towel for a streak free finish.

5. couch vacuuming

It was not the best decision to get two white/grey coated cats with long and fine hair while still having a black couch. You. can. see. every. single. hair. I'm very happy that our Philipps vacuum comes with a special attachment for pet hair removal. I use it on both of our couches and the attachment works like a charm. No more hairs!

6. making sure it smells good

A good smelling apartment is mandatory for me because I believe that a good smelling apartment makes living way more enjoyable.

I make sure to clean the cats' litterboxes frequently - I try to scoop the litter out immediately after they finished their business. Nothing is worse than the smell of cat shit or piss and I know way to many people that have their whole apartment smell like their cats litterbox because they neglect cleaning it.

I also spritz our couch and our carpets down with some Febreeze golden orchid cushion cleaner. It smells heavenly and the smell stays for hours! It's also pet safe, so don't worry.

Last but not least - candles. I like to light some scented candles in different rooms of the apartment to make sure that it smells nice everywhere. My current favorites are the yankee candles in vanilla cupcake and sunny daydream!

It takes me around 3hours daily to finish cleaning the apartment and that's only maintenance.

I deep clean different rooms on different days during the week. My daily tasks also include loading and unloading the dish washer, doing laundry, cooking and cleaning the kitchen after cooking.

lots of love

Selene

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics With Titles That Start With T (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

Take a Ride (ao3) - RosannaDrinksToForget

Summary: Dan likes to surprise Phil, especially with sex.

teddy bear (ao3) - sunshine_and_storm_clouds

Summary: Dan wakes up way too early. He really wants attention. Phil gives him attention.

tempe (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan and Phil go on a case to Tempe.

Tequila and Lime (ao3) - SecretLlama_22

Summary: the Dan and Phil bartender AU, where Dan has a crush on his recently phlonded colleague.

terms of endearment by which to address you (ao3) - dbg_708

Summary: Dan notices him but doesn’t look up from his phone, Phil prefers it at this moment to the alternative.

He pours himself a cup of coffee, traverses their great divide by walking into and out of the ray of sunshine that blinds him if only for a moment.

The Anniversary (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: It is fifteen years to the day since Dan's suicide attempt, and Phil endeavours to make the day as normal as possible.

the hoodie bow incident (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: they were kissing.

the inherent romance of washing the sheets (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Laundry is a bit meditative when you know how to do it, Dan reflects as he sprays stain solution on the sheets.

the leather t-shirt (ao3) - classichysteria

Summary: phil hates the leather t-shirt

The Phat (ao3) - gaydreaming

Summary: When Dan and Phil find an abandoned cat on a late-night walk to Dominos, Dan insists that they aren't going to keep him. After all, they know nothing about taking care of a pet. Dan will have the self control to put his foot down when faced with both Phil's big eyes and the cat's, right? ...Right?

The Philver Scream (ao3) - UnorthodoxSavvy

Summary: While Dan's career in the FBI is taking off, Phil is left behind to pick up the pieces of his life after his brother's death. However, he finds himself plagued by strange nightmares that he can't explain. Soon, people around him start dying. Can Dan and Phil's partnership survive the mounting body count?

the quiet of our home (ao3) - wednesday_ukiru

Summary: A quiet Saturday morning in the Howell-Lester residence.

The Stake are High, the Water's Rough, But this Love is Ours. (ao3) - trancelover99

Summary: During an alien takeover of Earth, Dan and Phil have been teamed up to be battle partners against the invaders. The duo doesn't exactly get along for a number of reasons, particularly Phil's timid and shy nature and Dan's stoic and demeaning attitude. But when a hoard of aliens kidnaps Phil, Dan has no choice but to go after him. Will he succeed? Or die trying?

The Stress, The Glory and The Afterglow (ao3) - easybubby

Summary: It's 2024. Dan and Phil are overworked and slipping into old habits. The only difference between now and 10 years ago is that their relationship now comes first and they will do anything to protect it, even if they have to spend time apart. They treasure one wild night before they vow to keep their distance for a while.

the wagtail and the lovers (ao3) - buskingalbatross

Summary: On the Isle of Man in spring, a little pied wagtail is building its nest. Tradition says that it needs a few good luck charms to successfully raise its young.

The Winner Takes it in the Ass (ao3) - danisnotonfire

Summary: Dan gets his second request for his shuffleboard win

The X-Philes (ao3) - UnorthodoxSavvy

Summary: Phil is a psychic. Dan is a detective. When Phil is visited by the ghost of his brother, he knows something isn't right. Can he and Dan solve the case, or will they become the next victims?

They fade to nothing when I look at him (ao3) - phasamtasie

Summary: Dan and Phil go sledging.

thinking of new ways to do each other (ao3) - manchesterau

Summary: The stream ends but their night isn't over just yet.

This Love (ao3) - ForeverJustAnEmoKidAtHeart

Summary: Dan cannot wait until he's reunited with Phil in LA after two months apart, but the reunion doesn't go as he planned.

time enough (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan and Phil make camp at an actual camp.

'tis the damn season (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan is the coffee shop regular at the shop Phil just started working at. Phil quickly learns that Dan is a bit of a Grinch who refuses to try the shops' holiday drinks, or anything new really. Phil's determined to change Dan's mind about the holiday drinks.

to be known so deeply (ao3) - kissthemisfits

Summary: Seasons change, summer ends.

To be loved (ao3) - Thedemonqueen

Summary: Dan knows Phil insisted they’re together. Dan knows Phil loves him. But it doesn’t stop Dan from feeling dirty when he wants to touch Phil.

to let the light in (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: Searching for a fresh start after a decade of dead ends in London, Dan becomes obsessed with a storytelling show on Rossendale Radio and a voice that hasn't been broadcast in years.

to love somebody the way i love you (ao3) - howell_slide

Summary: Dan and Phil return home from the hospital, and Dan’s Going Through It emotionally.

Too much? (ao3) - GayFandomNerd

Summary: A conversation about how much they’ve been sharing with their fans

true rat and relaxation time (ao3) - trashcanfromgallifrey

Summary: Two gays on holiday, inspired by their recent video.

Two Man Team (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: This is the story of two struggling friends who after many trials and tribulations find their way back to each other and build the life they've always dreamed of.

Or how Phil changed his life by talking to random strangers on the internet.

two wolves (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: They're in the middle of a meeting, and Phil seems to be trying to tell him something. But what?

(or, Dan accidentally wears a certain novelty wolf t-shirt to an online meeting with their tour team.)

[absolutebl]

Random ask game asks

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts?

What's one thing that's stereotypical about you?

I have the remnants of a british accent + I drink tea. 

Play any instruments? 

Piano, badly 

A music artist everyone criticizes that you like: 

Last show you watched: 

Last movie you watched

Senior Love Me? 

Last song you listened to

The Arc - The Light 

Last book you read

Old Fashion Cupcake manga 

Your top five most listened to artists this month on Spotify

Stray Kids

BTOB

Young K & Day 6

Kang Daniel

TRENDZ

Ever drank alcohol?

Every Friday and it’s Be My Favorite’s Fault 

Every smoked anything?

Fish, mostly 

Do you prefer to eat-in or take-out?

Both 

If you could time travel what decade would you go to first

Am I invisible or do I look the way I do now? If #1 then the past, if #2 then the future. 

An actor everyone loves that you don't like for whatever reason

Speak any other languages?

4 none of them well, including my ostensible original 

Have any tattoos? Want any tattoos?

no

Have any piercings? Want any piercings?

yes

Do you prefer the hot or cold weather?

cold 

Cats or dogs? Or some other pet?

none but those owned by others tend to adopt me (the house has a cat and he think’s i’m his)  

Trendy over comfortable or comfortable over trendy?

trendy and comfortable, why choose? 

Say one thing bad about something you love

the singing is terrible and the acting is usually pretty crap too

Do you prefer to read digitally or from a physical book?

digital 

Do you put milk in your hot tea?

yes 

Do you know how to play any popular gambling games?

no

A character you relate to for whatever reason?

A quote (from anything) you really love

How many pairs of shoes do you have

maybe 10? 

Do you have trouble saying any words because of your accent/speech problems?

no, i’m good at words and public speaking 

Earbuds or headphones?

buds 

Showers or baths?

Early bird or night owl?

insomniac 

Candles or scented spray?

fresh flowers 

How often do you change your clothes?

as often as is necessary 

Chess or checkers?

all board games bore me 

Something you can do that you think is cool?

Perfume or body spray?

body oil 

What's something that genuinely scares you

other people’s unhinged obsession 

LED lights, the room light, or sunlight?

diffuse natural light 

What's something you do differently than everyone else?

peel and chop fruit 

If you have hair how often do you style it in some way?

spiky if i bother at all 

Nail polish, press on nails, or acrylic nails?

short and tidy but nothing else 

Do you have any fidget toys? If so what's your favorite?

 I learned to sit still or get whacked, and i’m fine with the outcome 

Do you drive?

yes 

Your go-to genre of music?

Are you a good multitasker?

no one is a good multitasker 

Silence or background noise?

kpop 

A famous movie/show that you've never seen

i don’t know i haven’t seen it 

Any sport you would like to play?

i don’t like sweating with other people around... 

actually, i don’t like sweating at all 

Can you write in cursive?

yes & calligraphy 

Is your handwriting neat or at least easy to read?

yes very 

Colored pencils, markers, or crayons?

black 

How many pillows do you sleep with?

2 

How many blankets do you sleep with?

3 (if the top sheet counts, ALWAYS top sheet) 

Do you ever plan to get married one day?

fuck no 

Do you ever plan to have kid(s) one day?

fuck no 

Do you subscribe to any religion?

fuck no 

Something in your room that you think is funny for whatever reason

the hotel room i am in right now has a teacup the size of my head painted with parrots and I have no idea why. 

Would you rather be an actor, singer, comedian, or would you do something on YouTube/twitch/some other site

i would rather gouge out my own eyeball than be a celebrity of any kind 

Are you scared of the dentist?

not at all, my dental hygiene is fucking amazing, they often get mad at me for wasting their time 

(before you ask: good genetics + fucking flossing = the answer, just floss while watching your favorite bl, it’s not goodamn rocket science, take care of your teeth you slackwits) 

Do you wear makeup?

sometimes 

If you could be any character of the opposite sex, who would you be?

i already am 

In the literal sense, are you an introvert or extrovert?

both 

What's something in your room that makes no sense without context

aside from that dumb teacup, i don’t know, i’m not in my room, i’m rarely in my room 

Favorite subject in school?

If you could visit any place in the world where would you go?

right now, i wanna get to taiwan before it isn’t anymore 

A show/movie thats been on your watchlist forever but you for some reason keep putting off

Is the name you use online your real name? (Real name does not mean deadname)

never 

Do you have a favorite sibling?

If you were to have a kid what names would you have in mind?

no fucking children, not mine, not anyone else’s, i am not interested, yours is NOT the cutest nor the smartest (trust me) and i don’t want to hear about them 

Do you think things like anniversaries are a big deal?

no

Mobile games or PC/console games?

no games 

Do you believe in things like ghosts?

no

Long sleeve + shorts or short sleeve + pants

depends on the weather and culture 

Can you do any voice impressions?

no 

What was the first fandom you were genuinely into

star trek 

Do you prefer womens or mens products?

depends on the smell, price, and effectiveness  

would you be fine having your partner completely provide for you?

never 

Plain clothes or vibrant and eye catching clothes?

neither, i’m usually just stylish and quirky 

Movie date or restaurant date?

food 

Do you split the check or expect only one of you to be paying it?

split or I’ll pay if my friend isn’t holding 

Favorite fast food place?

i’d rather not 

How do you make your coffee?

in italy 

Do you pay attention to the music or the lyrics more?

music 

Are you more energetic or tame?

energetic 

Are you witty?

only by accident  

A show everyone criticizes that you like

[pollenallergie]

Munson Men headcanons <3

Description: Just some miscellaneous headcanons about my favorite father-son duo <3

Word Count: About 2k

CW: Swearing (I have a potty mouth, that’ll never change), Eddie and Wayne’s frugalness and sense of innovation are heavily inspired by my family’s supernatural ability to avoid spending their money at all costs, hints at the first half of Eddie’s childhood being less than stellar (to put it mildly), brief mention of Eddie’s dad.

A/N: Let me know if you guys would like me to write the origin story of the fantastic, dynamic duo that is Eddie and Wayne Munson!! I have so much lore about their pre-canon lives floating around in my little ole noggin.

The Munson’s have movie night on the first Monday night of every month. As unorthodox as it may be to stay up late watching movies on a school/work night, it’s the only night of the month when Wayne usually doesn’t have to work the night shift, so it’s the only time they have to relax and hang out. <3

Wayne taught Eddie most of the basics of playing guitar, including how to tune his acoustic. However, other than that, Eddie’s pretty much self-taught. He mastered playing the electric guitar all on his own. <3

Wayne, much like Eddie, is shockingly big on nicknames. For example, Wayne’s longest and most enduring nickname for Eddie is Ferret because the boy has more energy than he knows to do with. Eddie’s also insanely good at squeezing into small spaces, which makes that moniker even more apt. Wayne also came up with your nickname, Jitterbug, because you’ve always been a fidgety, nervous nelly. <3

Wayne even has a nickname for your mom; he calls her Apple because she always uses apple-scented shampoo, the same apple-scented shampoo you used to use until you grew up and started acquiring your own hair care products. Also, Wayne calls your mom that because she often wears this cute little sweater with apples knitted all over it during the colder months. <3

Wayne keeps a picture of you and Eddie on his dashboard. It’s of you two leaning up against the brick wall at Hawkins Elementary, smiles beaming at the camera as you’d huddled in close on the morning of your first day of the third grade. On the back of it is written, in Wayne’s oddly elegant handwriting, “Ferret & Jitterbug Go To School - August 1973.” <3

Eddie is the heaviest sleeper on god’s green earth; he always has been. Consequently, when he was much younger, Wayne used to have to physically haul him out of bed in the mornings and dress him himself. Now that Eddie’s older, though, Wayne rings a rusty old cowbell he got at a garage sale to wake his nephew up; it works like a charm. Wayne thinks the cowbell was one of the greatest purchases he ever made. Eddie, on the other hand, has tried (and failed) to sneakily rid the Munson household of that damned bell on many occasions. <3

The first time Wayne caught Eddie smoking weed, when he was thirteen years old, he sprayed him with the hose to put it out. Then Wayne gave his drenched, shivering nephew the sternest, most long-winded lecture of his life. <3

After Eddie got done reading the Crucible in his 9th grade English class, Wayne had to deal with him constantly greeting him with a prim and proper “How now, dear Uncle.” <3

Eddie is one of the greatest gift-givers of all time. He listens more intently than others might initially think, so he always knows the perfect gift for someone. He gets that talent from Wayne, who inherited it from his mom, Eddie’s grandmother, Margaret Munson. <3

Similarly, both Wayne and Eddie get their dramatic flair from Mimi (what Eddie calls his grandma). She used to read Eddie his bedtime stories to him, using different, silly voices for the characters and narrators as she read through the tale, even pausing for dramatic effect when she felt it was necessary to do so. Mimi’s favorite book to read to him, which also happened to be his favorite book when he was little, was Millions of Cats. Eddie still has her copy of the book. The inside cover has the words “property of Eddie and Mimi Munson” inscribed in her pretty handwriting. He stores the treasured book in a memory box under his bed, opting to have it tucked away for safekeeping. As gross as it might be to some, Eddie finds it profoundly comforting that the book still smells like the menthols she used to smoke. <3

Wayne Munson is the DIY king, and Eddie is his protégé. Seriously, these men never hire a repair service because they fix everything themselves. Wayne even went as far as to check out books on basic wiring and electrical work from Hawkins Public Library when their trailer’s circuit breaker was giving them trouble. The Munsons have even been known to craft their own furniture from time to time, like when Wayne built the nightstand next to Eddie’s bed out of the wood that one of his friends had left over after building a new front porch for their house. He even got some dark wood stain to use on it for half off from the local hardware store since the can it was in was so dented that it hardly resembled a cylinder anymore. <3

The Munson men are also pros at shopping secondhand. They can scout out the best deals at garage sales. They can also easily scope out the most extraordinary hidden treasures at even the most cluttered thrift stores. Going shopping with them is a breeze because you know that, no matter what, you’ll get precisely what you need. <3

Wayne makes the most delicious grilled cheese sandwiches. You and Eddie aren’t sure how or why the ones he makes are always so much better than any other grilled cheeses you guys have had before, but they are. <3

Wayne’s never been a big fan of cake, so instead, you and Eddie make him a blackberry cobbler every year for his birthday using his mom’s recipe. Luckily for you both, or, rather, for your wallets, Wayne’s an August baby. Hence, blackberries are in season for his birthday and are, consequently, super fresh and not too expensive. <3

Contrary to how the rest of the town views them, most of the residents at Forest Hills quite like the Munsons, especially the elderly residents. Eddie and Wayne are the kinds of neighbors who will offer to help someone carry in their groceries, who will mow a neighbor’s lawn for free if they’re unable to do so themself, and who will even leave a lovely card in someone’s mailbox on their birthday. The Munsons are good people, and unlike most people in Hawkins, the folks who live at Forest Hills can clearly see that. Although, Eddie’s tendency to drive recklessly and blast metal music at all hours of the night sometimes makes it a little hard for his neighbors to remember just how good of a guy he truly is. <3

Wayne was your most loyal customer when you were in Girl Scouts and had to sell cookies every year. He’d save up money for months ahead of the cookie-selling season. Then, when the time finally came to start going door-to-door with your cookie forms, wearing your adorable little Junior Scout uniform, he would use that money to buy as many boxes as he could afford just to help you out. His favorites are the Tagalongs because, well, in his eyes, peanut butter and chocolate together is an unbeatable combination. <3

While Eddie’s “old man” may not have taught him how to fish, his Uncle Wayne sure did. When Eddie was a kid, back when he was still living with his shitbag of a dad, Wayne used to take him fishing at the lake at least once a week during the summer months to allow his nephew to escape his dad’s torment during summer break. Consequently, Wayne has many, many photos of a young, freckle-faced Eddie holding up the various fish he’d caught while flashing a beaming, toothy grin at the camera. He’s even got a couple of Eddie pressing kisses to some of the tinier fish his nephew caught. He also has one very special picture of 8-year-old Eddie gagging after his lips made contact with the slimy, scaly skin of the fish he was holding. That last picture is one that he’s opted to keep in his wallet; that way, he can look at it and laugh whenever he’s having a hard day. <3

Wayne and Eddie like to tease each other a lot. Granted, it’s only ever friendly fire. For example, Wayne teases Eddie about how loudly he snores at night. Meanwhile, Eddie teases Wayne about the so-called “grandpa noises” he makes when he gets up from the couch, bends over to tie his shoe, picks up something heavy, etc. <3

Wayne doesn’t really know what to do when people start crying around him; he tenses up and gets all awkward, unsure of what to say or do to make things better. But you bet your ass he tries his damnedest to console them, offering kind words, affectionate side-hugs (his full-on hugs are reserved for when his family needs them most, because he’s not really big on hugging), comforting shoulder pats, and when all else fails, a shoulder to cry on, to lean on in your time of need. <3

Wayne deserves a presidential medal of honor for all the times he’s had to take you, your siblings, and Eddie out to the Indiana Dunes for your yearly vacation by himself, which makes up nearly all of the times that you guys have gone to the Dunes, mainly because your mom was hardly ever able to get off work to come along with you all. Being stuck in a car with a bunch of ornery little shits for four hours (two hours there and back) is bad enough. Imagine how draining it is being stuck camping out in the woods with them for an entire week. Not to mention, Wayne almost always got stuck sharing a tent with you and Eddie, the orneriest of the little shits. After every single one of your trips to the Dunes, your mom would let you and Eddie have a week-long sleepover at her place so that Wayne could get some reprieve. However, Wayne almost always had him return home after about three days, as he found that he missed his boy in their time apart more than he missed the blissful silence when Eddie was home. <3

Wayne Munson can and will kick anyone and everyone’s ass at backgammon. He’s also unfairly good at Battleship, much to your and Eddie’s dismay. Also, Wayne’s never been the kind of person to let a kid win simply because they’re a kid; he is ready and willing to best you and Eddie at every board game known to man. Consequently, game nights at your mom’s place (to which Eddie and Wayne are always invited) are an intense affair, to say the least, but damn, are they fun! <3

Finally, Wayne used to sing “Don’t Fence Me In” to Eddie to get him to fall back asleep after a haunting nightmare woke him up, something that happened far too often when he first came into Wayne’s care. </3

[middleearthpixie]

Wanted Man ~ Chapter One

A/N: Before I stumbled into the Tolkien fandom, I wrote Marvel fanfic and while I wrote fanfic before I knew that was what it was called, this is the very first fic I'd written knowing it actually had a name/genre. This was the first of four fics in this series, and I did 3 spin off fics as well, which I may or may not post, depending on whether or not anyone has any interest in them.

Anyway, here it is... The first chapter of the first story... I hope you don't hate it. :)

Summary: A price on his head, Loki of Asgard finds himself stranded on Earth and in need of one woman's help in order to free himself from the bounty and try to reclaim what he sees as his rightful throne in Asgard.

McKenna Carlin just wanted to put a horrible day behind her. She had no idea that things would get worse before they get better…

Pairings:  Loki Laufeyson x ofc McKenna Carlin

Characters: McKenna, Loki  

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.5k

Tag List:@fizzyxcustard @court-jobi @guardianofrivendell

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here! 

Someday, I’ll learn never to ask what else could go wrong.

All McKenna Carlin wanted was to go home, stand under the hot shower, until she forgot all about the day from hell. Maybe then, she’d stop obsessing over why she asked questions she really didn’t want to know the answers to. Maybe.

She leaned back against the door and closed her eyes. Some days were bad, this one put them all to shame. If it could go wrong, it did. After that hot shower, a glass of wine was a must.

Opening her eyes again, she tried to ignore the sense of weariness creeping into her as she peered around the small apartment that she had, until only that morning, shared with Joe. Now, the pale eggshell white walls were missing pictures she’d grown accustomed to looking at, and the closet to her left would no doubt have a lot more room in it now.

It was for the best. Things had gone sour months earlier, only neither one of them had the stones to admit it. True, there were better ways to find out he’d already moved on than by seeing a text never meant for her eyes, but at least now she knew.

He had Shelley and she had outlines on the walls where photographs used to hang.

With a heavy sigh, she pushed up from the door and bracing one foot against the back of the other, kicked off her left sneaker, and then her right. She thought the run might help. Might clear her head, but it didn’t. Her thoughts were just as heavy as they had been before her run. Only now she was hot and sweaty on top of it.

She padded down the short, narrow hallway to her room, where Cinder, her chubby gray and white cat, lay curled up in his usual ball, sound asleep. His eyes didn’t open, but his motor kicked over as she stretched to scratch him under the chin. Bit by bit, his neck stretched, and then his eyes opened, amber and sleepy. He yawned. He stretched.

He promptly went back to sleep.

Her bathroom adjoined her room, and as she crossed to it, she peeled off her sweaty running clothes. Lightweight jacket. Tank top. All-important sports bra. 

She had to shimmy out of the Lycra pants. And did the usual one-footed hop across to the threshold of the bathroom before she wrestled herself free. Everything lay where it fell. She’d get it on her return trip.

The tub, like the rest of the building, was old. But like the rest of the building, it had a wonderful charm that managed to offset the hassle of sometimes not having enough hot water. It was clawfooted and beautiful, and sometimes after a long day, she loved to just sit in it with a glass of wine, a good book, and enough bubbles to make every drain in the building fizz.

But tonight was a shower night, so she turned on the spray full blast and hoped for the best. As the water warmed, she smiled. No one was using their dishwasher just now. Perfect.

The shower was just the right temperature to ease the ache in her leg muscles. She hadn’t run a lot, less than two miles, but in the heat of a late June night, two miles felt like ten and she scrubbed harder than usual to get rid of the sweaty film. She shampooed twice. Conditioned once. And cursed like a sailor when she reached out toward the toilet, only to find she hadn’t taken a towel from the neatly folded pile on the organizer.

The memory foam bathmat soaked up more water than it should’ve, and she winced at the squishiness as she stretched to grab the wayward towel. She was just wrapping it about herself when the entire building lurched and something boomed overhead.

“Thunderstorm,” she muttered, grabbing a second towel to wrap about her hair. That godawful pixie cut she’d impulsively gotten just before Christmas had finally—finally—grown out. It was to her shoulders now, and freshly highlighted to get rid of any telltale white hairs that liked to show up every now and then to remind her she wasn’t twenty-five any longer, and the towel grew damp as she wrapped it turban-style and pulled open the door.

There were no A/C vents in the bathroom, so the blast of cold air made her yelp. She shivered, almost dancing over to her dresser, where she pulled out a pair of cotton pj bottoms and a her favorite tee shirt from her pj drawer. She unwound her turban and squeezed as much water as she could from her hair, then tossed the towel in the laundry basket on her way out to the kitchen

“Weird. Thunder, but no lightning,” she muttered, the hardwood floor cool beneath her feet. She’d had the floors redone the previous summer and they’d been sanded and polished to a golden maple finish, probably more beautiful than they’d been when the building was first built.

The kitchen was halfway down the hallway, with another full bath on the left and a spare bedroom (if it could be called that. It was a bedroom only in the sense that a twin bed would fit, but would leave precious little room for any other furniture) that she’d turned into a reading room of sorts. She was halfway between bedroom and kitchen when the second crash shook the building hard enough that she lost her footing and banged up against the wall.

“What the—?” She righted herself as Cinder let out a howl and darted between her feet to disappear into the spare room. “Cinder, you—”

Whatever the cat was remained unspoken as the living room came into sight and any and all words up and died on McKenna’s lips. She still had no idea what shook the building so badly, but she was fairly sure that when she’d gone into the bathroom, a man was not lying on the area rug just inside the door, where she’d have to have stepped over him to come completely into her apartment.

She stared first at the man lying motionless on the cheerful multicolor rug she’d picked up at a craft fair years earlier. Was he wearing… leather? Black and green leather, no less. And from the looks of him, the leather made him sweat the exact same way running in this sticky summer weather made her sweat.

Cinder hopped up onto the halfway separating the kitchen from the dining area portion of the living room, puffed to twice his normal size. Considering he weighed in at nearly twenty pounds, it was an impressive sight, but one McKenna only barely glanced at as she swallowed hard at the sight of this stranger—in leather, no less—lying unconscious on her floor.

“How the hell…” The whisper died on her lips as she glanced about for something to use as a weapon. Weapon. What the hell did she have that was even remotely weapon-like? The closest thing she had was an aluminum baseball bat, and that was currently in the backseat of her car, three floors down. Fat lot of good that would do.

The man groaned and she took another, very quick, step back. 

Cinder hissed, then growled low in the back of his throat. 

McKenna looked from the cat to the man. From the man to the cat. Which one would move first?

The man moved.

“Where…” His voice was deep, but faint. He tried to sit up, but just as quickly sank back, both hands coming to rest on his chest. Another low groan rose, but he remained still.

McKenna cleared her throat. “Who are you and how the hell did you get in here?”

“Quiet.”

The brusqueness of his voice caught her off-guard and she stared at him, even though he stared straight up at the ceiling. “I beg your pardon?”

“You should. What realm is this?”

“Realm?” The cordless phone sat on the counter next to Cinder. Gingerly, she stepped toward it. “You’ve got about five minutes before I’ve got the town’s finest here to haul your ass out of my apartment, mister.”

“What realm is this?”

“What are you talking about?” If she stretched, she could just put her fingers on the phone. She leaned to her left.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The phone slid further out of reach, bumping up against the puffy cat, who yowled and practically flew off the counter. “What the hell—?”

This time, when the man attempted to sit, he didn’t sink back. Instead, he glared at her through eyes of the coldest pale blue she’d ever seen. “I am Loki of Asgard and what realm is this?”

[chorusgirls]

𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙰𝚁𝚈 𝚃𝙾 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝚈 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙳, 𝙸𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙱𝙻𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝚂𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝙰 𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁. 𝙸𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙻𝚈 𝚃𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙻𝙳.

…  ALIAS / NAME   …  solange lahiri.

…  NICKNAMES   …  known under various aliases and monikers. referred to as la pantera in various parts of spain, andora, and portugal, along with the night fox across the south of france. accepts any pet name.

…  BIRTH NAME   …  redacted.

…  AGE   …  thirty-three.

…  GENDER  …  cis woman.

…  SEXUALITY  …  bisexual. kinsey scale 3.

…  CIVILIAN OCCUPATION   …  jazz singer at godfather house of blues.

…  CRIMINAL ASSOCIATION   …  jade tribe soldier, freelance cat burglar & con artist .

…  NOTABLE ATTRIBUTES   …  doe eyes, salacious body, and most particularly the combination of the two.

 …  CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS   …  selina kyle ( detective comics ).  regina lampert ( charade ).  janet colgate/the jackal ( dirty rotten scoundrels ). maría elena ( vicky cristina barcelona ).  holly golightly ( breakfast at tiffany's ). mirtha jung ( blow ).

( + ) alluring, passionate, charismatic, persuasive, witty, adaptable, sensual, warm, competitive, flirtatious, voracious, coy.

( - ) vindictive, possessive, unpredictable, insatiable, manipulative, dishonest, jealous, eccentric, unreliable, delusive, mercurial.

𝚂𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂. * trigger warnings: gang activity, implied age gap, mention of fertility trouble, murder, mild gore, suicide, parental death.

as a child, you once use a shell casing as a hard candy. six months old with a gnawing pain, and your mother finds you with a hollowed-out bullet between your gums. before taking it out she hoists you onto her hip, brandishing the moment to your father like a postcard: just look at your daughter. a coo, not a reprimand. when he leans forward, chucking your fat little chin, the affection only blooms brighter: incorrigible love, all for putting the killing thing in your mouth.

it's not the metal that poisons you, but the rest of what you're weaned on. the only child of an aging criminal emperor, your family rules mumbai and the shadow beyond with a traditionally held & elegantly dressed fist. beyond just the apple of your father's eye, you are the fruit bowl and the orchard too — where once he had dreaded the thought of a daughter, your birth shifts both his heart and his vision. when your mother's womb bares no other children, it does not matter: it's your head, scented with rosemary and bathed in milk, who will one day wear the crown. a little shadow, they call you, not for your quiet existence (you learned to raise your voice above the echo of gunshots in the compound, your mouth its own pistol, never to be outdone) but how tightly you share your father's. he says it's lesson, learning by proximity, but the pair of you know the truth: it's the close-keeping of a treasure. neither of you can bare separation.

sat beneath the shadow of a pomegranate tree in the back of the family estate: that's where you watch your father die. your mother's hand is slipped into yours as the gun raises, but it's your fingers who hold tight. a steadying force, as solid and hard-boned as the gaze you level at the usurper. the man who would be a king killer looks little more than a desperate boy with those shaking hands, older than you but young and untested enough to believe this is the way you build a kingdom. blood sprays your bare feet. warm. thick. mother wails, just as hot, just as molten. you'll join her later in the privacy of a home turned prison — grief emptying out your whole body, so violent it voids your stomach, leaves you retching on the cool marble floor — but now you only look. stare. fix him with the eyes that will not flinch, watching as he recedes to claim what was once yours.

you are married to your father's killer on the grounds watered with his blood. it is your choice of location just as it is your pain, your memory, your plan. mother dresses for a funeral, barred from the ceremony. it's like watching you walk to your death. you cannot afford to explain your decision to her, nor express the reason for your disagreement: the only way to tear throat is to kiss it first. only two years between the bookends of death and ceremony, but a lifetime stretches between it: time rendered thick and acidic with all that you must do to convince him of your choice. it was your power, you promise, palm on the place his heart would be, now it is what i have found beneath it. it's impossible to distinguish the look of hunger your husband wears at the altar to the ravenous one he will wear later, in the bed chamber: the starvation for your beauty identical to that of your legacy. you allow him to put his mouth on both and pretend to roll down his throat.

the cost of retribution, as the gods dictate, is as great as the crime: a quarter of your life, spent at the side of your father's killer. the dissolution of your father's empire, its rubble stuck irrevocably to your soles. the life of your mother, taken at her own hands: unable to watch any longer the unnatural crime of your union. but revenge comes, all the same. it comes like crows to the corpse, black clouds to the summer sky. inevitable. six years of plotting, and finally you destroy that which shattered you first; despot-husband dead, legacy stamped out. you do not leave with nothing when it is all over: it is the last known flight of a criminal's private plane, chartered to an unknown location in western europe before disappearing.

your various lives as a zoetrope, each version of yourself seemingly separate until you spin fast enough: lover, thief, artist, grifter, impersonator, photographer, forger, heiress. all these variations, these distinct new selves, yet the story only goes round and round on a wheel: you throw yourself into the role, the new country, the life. you find love where there is none, create it like god. you steal whatever is not bolted down to the floor. and when it tires out under your feet, when the grounds shrink and leave you painted into a corner ⸺ you climb the walls. that's how you come to new york, the crumbs of a southern french villa stuck to your heel, glancing up at the burned neon sky through sleek black glasses: open up darling, i'm home.

SUMMARY : only child of one of india's largest organized crime rings watches as her father's operation is usurped by a rival, only to be forced to marry him to further legitimize his takeover. after six years of an intimate, gnarled long con, solange brings down her despot husband at the cost of crumbling her father's legacy too. at twenty-four, having slain a false king and carrying a guilt she'll never acknowledge, solange leaves to europe to begin a new life — the first in a series. grifter, con artist, cat burglar — she has as many criminal occupations as she does aliases. after a recent, lengthy stint in the french riviera, she's hurricaned into new york under the name solange lahiri.

𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂.

exceptional verbal mimic. give her a half hour in earshot and she'll replicate your voice.

the hat game is unrivaled. she's got one for every occasion, and then several more.

talks a lot with her hands, but it's a long con to distract you from where they're going (your wallet, your purse, your jewelry)

there's no easy way to say this, but her tits are always physically or metaphorically out. it's just part of the look.

has a very well-adjusted cat who has been carted all over the world with her. technically he is one of the most expensive cats in the world (seriously), being an f1 bengal she stole from his previous owner. sola has renamed him paul newman. he's surprisingly chill except when left without enough space to run around. much like his owner he will then start clawing shit up.

was briefly a british wag, dating one of manchester united's stars. probably jamie tartt coded. looooved the attention.

realistically and despite how outlandish some of sola's escapades are, subconsciously or otherwise she's playing it very safe. not only an incredibly talented thief, but primed once upon a time to inherit a crime ring — but she contents herself with stealing jewelry and spouses? a shame really. someone call her on it.

gluttonous in all aspects of life. food, drink, laughter, sex. she doesn't do anything in moderation

prefers an artisanal coffee shop, but pops into starbucks regularly to snag something off their bar. thank you easily exploitable mobile ordering honour system

𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙳.

this energy. where's my homoerotic sapphic fight scene

rival from the hanging man. solange actively joined a gang outside of the heist leaders because she wanted a little <3 fun competition <3 and she's decided you're in a personal rivalry. all the better if this other person is just ? literally what did i do to deserve this im just tryna get through the day

girlies whose friendship she has acquired through compulsive charisma

a past fling/relationship with someone who vacationed in one of her hot spots

a mark she's taken on not for jade tribe purposes but because she can't sit still ever :) personal project

anybody in any avenue of law enforcement who has previously or currently worked on a job of hers that solange is currently fucking with

somebody (probably older, possibly a head of a gang??) who knew and worked with her father !!! bonus points for knowing her as a kid

[recoveringhopefulsoul]

July 5, 2024

Today is Lia's first birthday. I can't believe my baby kitten is now a year old! She'll still be technically in a kitten age group until she's 2, even though she transitions to adult food now. She was so shocked when I brought out her kitten broth, her old food and her new food (which she LOVES), and her birthday treats. They're actually called Birthday even though it's lobster and beef flavored.

After losing Willow at only 8 months old, I have been so overprotective of Lia. Now that she's a year old, I may be able to loosen up a little. We'll see. Lia gave me lot of cuddles this morning until she said, "Mommy, that's enough," by giving me a slight (non-painful) bite on my forearm. That's her cue for "I don't want to be picked up right now" or "I want down now".

Anyway, I am here now drinking my coffee. I am still recovering from all the days I spent out this past week. Thankfully, I didn't sleep until noon today, only until 10, so I'm getting back to my usual. Although, there were a lot of fireworks here last night, and due to trauma things, it's very hard to calm my body down enough to fall asleep. They went past midnight, which honestly is disrespectful. Fireworks need to stop at 10pm, and the latest (on the holiday itself) at 11pm.

Lia kept looking at me when they started going off, and I told her what they were and gave her a safe space in the closet where she could go. I left a spot open in there, when I redid my closet, that would be just for her to go to and rest. I put her bed in there with her toys, gave her some catnip treats, sprayed some lavender under the blankets on my bed so it wouldn't be overly strong for her but would still be relaxing, and put on some kitty music that had a cat purring. After a while, we both were pretty desensitized to them, which I was grateful for. I am getting better with them so I don't go into trauma flashbacks anymore, and that's an amazing thing.

I think, no, I know, there's a part of me that is upset with my weight. I am on day 3 or 4 of my cycle, so some of it is from that, but it's higher than what I would like it to be. It's not interfering, as far as I know, with what I need to be doing for myself, but it is aggravating my exercise urges which makes the urge to not do anything even stronger because I'm afraid of being unable to stop exercising once I start. It's a conundrum, right? It's what makes doing my PT exercises so difficult! I am glad that I'm going to be starting PT up again in August since I'll have that support, but that also means that I may have to try driving every now and then.

Driving still causes me so much anxiety! It's because I've blacked out at the wheel numerous times, gotten extremely lightheaded, or end up dissociating further than what is normal while driving. (As in a lot of people dissociate while driving, like accidentally going to work instead of the store, and yes that is dissociation, I've studied this for my graduate degree, but mine is more like blocking out hours at a time or just the whole trip and not remembering even driving there to begin with). But they know this at the PT office, so the last time I had to do this, they've told me that if I'm in a place that it would be unsafe to drive, to call them, and we would reschedule the best we could. Thankfully I only had to do that once in the 3-4 months of PT I had for my right leg.

Mom and Gamma are coming over for a bit today since they'll be in town. They are going to sing Happy Birthday to Lia, so that will be nice. The baby is probably so confused since cats have no concept of these things, but it makes special memories for their humans, so they put up with it. LOL

[songofsaraneth]

I've been meaning to make a container garden update post for weeks now, but health/life kept getting in the way. So these photos are taken within the last week-ish but I've been getting it all set up over the last month! Including finally getting through the last of my rain barrel so I could scrub and rinse it out.

First major thing is I finally bit the bullet and bought the expensive porch loveseat of my dreams. I've been wanting a little couch or egg chair out there for 2.5 years but nothing ever appeared secondhand, and they're SO expensive. But finally there was a half off sale and so I went for this one from target. The best part about having that wicker back means I can use an umbrella or clip fabric to it as a shade cloth, and since it's already almost 90ºF here, that's a big motivator for spending time outside. Anyway here’s the breakdown of what I’ve got in now. Text and photos not in order bc it was too hard. Also, I tried to put a readmore here, but... I guess tumblrs not letting me have those today so sorry, long post it is! For edibles, I’ve got 4 containers of tomatoes (3 cherry/snacking and one slicing), 2 containers of strawberries (all that survived from last season!),  2 kinds of chives (normal and garlic), 2 kinds of basil (sweet and spicy globe), oregano with lemon thyme, and my hardy old rosemary. The basils got chewed up by a stray cat so I had to keep them inside for a week to recover. Then I sprayed the general area with orange oil to deter it and the orange oil ended up burning their fragile leaves, so thye’ve had a rough time of it. but! finally recovering 😬 And the big blue container I’m trying to repurpose for melons this spring, and will plant spaghetti squash later in the summer. Will I be able to get cantaloupes supported on the treils with netting? Not sure but I’m gonna try. Def most experimental inclusion this year. For perennial flowers from last year, almost all survived! I’ve got 4 kinds of sage (one of which seeded into an adjacent empty pot, so I left it and added some annual violas), guara, penstemon, 2 kinds of lavender, and a miniature rose. My red geranium kept blooming all through winter, so I got a pink and a purple one as well. The sages look a bit rough right now because I left for a week before I put in the other annuals and they’re the thirstiest of the bunch, so dropped a lot of blooms. Oh well.  For new additions and annuals, I went crazy lol. My most dangerous to shop with friend and I went to the local nursery and stores together so of course we both went overboard. I finally got one of the jasmine I’ve been eying for a year and a half, which just started blooming and already smells amazing. My 2 gailardia were tiny rosettes but ones forming a bloom and I’m so excited. Also marigolds, zinnias, petunias, lantanas, those fluffy spike ones I’m blanking on the name of, and a fuchsia! And probably some I forgot. The fuchsia’s been swapped to a shader spot already, but it’s getting ready to bloom and I’m excited. I also, while visiting Colorado two weeks ago, accompanied my friend to a nursery and ended up driving back with a clematis, one of my favorite flowers ever. It’s still vining up right now but fingers crossed for flowers.  SO. Lots of things in at the moment, so far been good for the last week and we’ll see what ends up surviving the summer heat or not once we get to the weeks of 100ºF+ days. I’ve got some other plans/tweaks, but this is the bulk of things. Otherwise, life has been a lot and I’m still goin through it...grad school, research, coping with the porch birds I love getting killed by the feral cats, and so on :( Getting up to water has been motivating at least for finally leaving bed in the morning despite all my eye pain troubles (easier to just keep them closed for an extra 3 hours than to start the sequence of drops and compresses it takes to get them open). But then I can do my morning doomscrolling at least surrounded by beautiful flowers and birdsong instead of huddled in my cave.

[contentment-of-cats]

Saturday!

I had my main thyroid cyst closed yesterday and today it looks as if someone tried to strangle me. I go back in a month for an ultra sound to make sure it's staying closed. The fluid and a scraping of the walls of the cyst was also done for biopsies. It's nothing alarming, I have had these cysts and nodules before, but it's as if cancer treatment put the pedal to the medal. The endocrinologist said that you can't zap the human body with radiation, even a refined and targeted bean of radiation, without aftereffects.

Today is for cooking, and my body wants Autumn Food. I managed to get some duck legs, actual mutton (!), and other goodies for my Big Cook. I like to make big batches, then freeze. I have brisket, duck, pork shoulder, and am smoking my first batches of elk sausage. A lot of people advocate uncured meats but here's the problem with that.

The curing of meat is to prevent the growth of organisms in the meat such as botulinum. Curing meat is a practice that goes back to Mesopotamian civilization, and possibly long before. Mesopotamians preserved meat in salt and sesame oil. Salt draws out the moisture and the bacteria with it. If you remember biology lab in junior high, you remember what happens to cells when you salt them. Nitrites can be naturally occurring, so something like Eco-Cure needs to be handy unless you want to play Russian roulette with botulism. It's a one-to-one substitute for Prague Powder #1 - that's the stuff that makes ham and Spam pink.

~

In kitty news, I have found a new hack! All the little catnip toys get lost under furniture, and regular catnip gets all over the place. I used to use up unmatched socks, but those get gross with cat drool. So, I had a batch of wool laundry balls - extras. I ordered some that never got here, so I cancelled the order and bought from another source. What shows up six weeks later?

Now I have twelve big felted wool balls, and the babies were fascinated. Why? Lanolin. It makes them go full baby, and some even nurse because the scent reminds them of mama cat. I tried lanolin therapy with Dusty the Anxiety Kitty and it worked really well - she was weaned off the anxiety meds.

Lanolin and catnip spray have proven to be a natural! The balls are too big to disappear under everything and the girls love them. Three are coated with a little lanolin, the other three get a spray of catnip. Happy kitties.

[sickly-sapphic]

1-50

Bc ask games are fun!!!!

who is/are your comfort character(s)? Carl Grimes, Nico di Angelo, Peso, Jake Peralta and Legolas Greenleaf.

lighter or matches? Matches.

do you leave the window open at night? Sometimes, when it had netting.

which cryptyd being do you believe in? All of them bestie. I'm one of those half-beliefs in every possible reality

what color are your eyes? Blue/grey!! Got those sweet sweet child of Athena eyes.

why did you do that? Cuz I had to :[

hair-ties or scrunchies? I use hair-ties cuz I don't have a lot of hair atm but I like scrunchies more.

how many water bottles are in your room right now? One!!

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee? Cold coffee.

would you slaughter the rich? Yes, first date ideas<3

favorite extracurricular activity? Oooh probably fishing (yes this was an actual extracurricular activity at my school). Free hot chips<3

what kind of day is it? A quiet, peaceful but chaotic one.

when was the last time you ate? A couple minutes ago!! Some candy I got from work.

do you love the smell of earth after it rains? Yes, particularly how rocks smell after rain (thats how nico di angelo smells btw.)

are you a parent? (all answers qualify) I am an eldest daughter and a therapist friend and I have cats and I'm a big fan of plushies so I feel like I qualify, yeah.

can you drive? No and if you put me in the drivers seat I Will have a panic attack.

are you farsighted or nearsighted? Near-sighted and cross-eyed babyyy

what hair products do you use? I mostly use sukin & neutrogina t/gel atm. I have a hair colour masque and a deep cleanser and I also have like a two year old bottle of purple shampoo since I am Not a natural blonde.

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails? Absolutely babe

do you say soda or pop? I say soft drink

something you’ve kept since childhood? I have a Will Byers bobble head figurine I got the year before I had to leave my dad's house and then so many plushies also and my special blanket :]

what type of person are you? A good one, I think

how do you feel about chilly weather? Yes I love hoodies I love layers I love sweaters ugh

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing? Eating popcorn.

perfume/body spray or lotion? PERFUMEEE. MY BELOVED<333 I NEED MORE PERFUME ALL OF THE TIME.

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times? Yikes they all involve gay love or murder. Uhhh lets go with meeting my bf. If we're talking about Real Events then the moment I woke up after my accident plays in my head like twice a day.

about how many hours of sleep did you get? Last night? Like ten because I didn't want to get out of bed in the morning so I simply didn't.

do you wear a mask? I fucking Lost my mask and I'm waiting to buy another.

how do you like your shower water? Really cold or really hot.

is there dishes in your room? Nope.

what type of music keeps you grounded? Music doesn't keep me grounded honestly I drift off pretty quick.

do you have a favorite towel? YES. My pink one<3

the last adventure you’ve been on? Visiting the location of my accident last week probably?

is there a song you know every word to by heart? All of them /j. But probably At The Bottom Of Everything by Bright Eyes.

what’s your timezone? AEST I think??

how many times have you changed your url? I switched mains a bunch so uhmm. Uhhh. Probably 8-9 times?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years? Yeah i call them Peaches, I met them in like a daycare or playgroup thing and then we reconnected in grade 8. I dont know if we're friends anymore but we text a couple times a month ?

a soap bar that smells good? Lemongrass.

do you use lip balm? Yup<3

did you have any snacks today? Some gummies & a choc-chip hot cross bun.

how do you take your coffee? Black. I also like some mochas.

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site? Pinterest, google chat and youtube.

what’s your take on spicy foods? Who knows my guy

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it? My best friend's dad.

can you remember what happened yesterday? I stayed up late the day before so I was up at 1am watching a lesbian christmas movie and then I fell asleep. Woke up and got ready for work, first day in ages that I did my whole lil morning routine. Went to work & my nana drove me home. Sat at home scrolling through youtube till I went for an hour-long walk listening to 2014 music. Cried for 3 hours cuz yk how it is. Fell asleep.

favorite holiday film? Love Actually.

what was the last message you sent? "I'm here" to my boyfriend

when did you first try an alcohol beverage? Age 14-15 I think? 3L of coffee just wasn't enough to cope with that day. It was also like directly before a math exam-

can you skip rocks? Haven't tried recently-

can i tag you in random stuff? Hell yeah!!

[thatpunnyperson]

I dont talk about it much, but I have 3 pet snakes--one (1) ball python and two (2) california king snakes--and I love them very much. But this is going to be a long post and I dont know how to do a "read more" on mobile

This love I have for them managed to make me forget just how long it takes to clean their tanks. I try to replace their tank substrate every 2-3 months because I use orchid bark (fir wood chips traditionally used for growing orchids, but also excellent reptile bedding) because I spot clean the substrate once a week when I feed my snakes. So the substrate stays fairly clean despite the length of time it sits in the tank becsuse I'm removing the poops and urate deposits shortly after the snake poops, but I am adamant about replacing all the substrate in each of the 3 tanks at least every 3 months, preferably every 2 months.

But oh my god my ball python lives in a 55 gallon 18" by 18" by 36" tank and the substrate is about 1"-2" on the bottom, which ends up being absolutely heinous to scoop out. The king snakes are in ~20 gallon 12" by 18" by 24" tanks that also have 1"-2" of substrate on the bottom, but the math works out that I can buy two big bags of substrate from the pet store, put one in the ball python tank, and split the second between the two king snake tanks, which gives them all a good amount of bedding to dig in and push around (not sure why they all like digging but I love it).

So the tank cleaning always involves going from one tank to the next, removing the tank furniture and spraying it down with an enzymatic cleaner and disinfectant, then removing the old substrate, using a small dustpan and brush to clean out all the dust from the substrate, then spraying the tank down with the cleaner/disinfectant, then washing the furniture off in the sink and letting it air dry a bit, wiping out the inside of the tank and then spraying it down with water and then wiping it out Again and letting it air dry a bit, then adding the new substrate in, spraying it with water to help bolster the humidity, putting the now-clean water dish into the tank and filling it with clean bottled water, putting the rest of the clean tank furniture back into the tank, and then spritzing it all down again with water to really boost the humidity.

And THEN, closing the tank doors (cause these tanks have little front doors) so the humidity can have some time to really seep into the substrate and the tank furniture. I have a bunch of stuff piled on top of each tank to both keep my cats from climbing onto them and to keep the humidity and heat in as much as possible (the tanks have a mesh top that makes it hard to keep the humidity and heat in, and ball pythons like fairly humid environments)

This all takes me about 30 minutes per tank, so I obviously do it when my snakes are scheduled to be fed, because I like to feed my snakes in little dedicated feeding tubs that I then cover with a thick blanket so it's dark and quiet for them. And THAT is because, when I first got my ball python 13 years ago, the guy at the pet store was like, "ball pythons are shy so you should feed them in a low-traffic part of your home so they dont get disturbed and spit up their food," to which my family was like, "okay, so we have a ton of decorative tea towels and we're going to put them on the snake tub because we're gonna feed her in the kitchen in case she bites someone and we need to clean up the blood." She has only bitten me 3 times in the 13 years I've had her and all times were my fault for confusing her.

Anyway, I love my snakes and the painstaking process of cleaning their tanks is a small price to pay for their health and happiness, but my god the substrate is the worst. I get splinters every time because I refuse to wear gloves despite literally using my hands to push the wood chips around.

[dadfag]

anyways in other news my cat is being fuckin violent and needs to be separated from my other cat and my dog?? so he's locked in my bathroom with all his needed stuff but yeah its so weird he's healthy according to the vet theres no new stressors ?? he's getting fixed this month but also he's like 3 years old at this point so it's never been an issue til now with the aggression (he's never even sprayed) but yeah i cant really go in there without him trying to kill me so i have to use the bathroom in my basement thats lined with mirrors on every wall (we did not do that it came like that)

[44doggyriver]

Puppyrellia

Once upon a time there lived a  poodle named Puppyrellu. She had   olive eyes  and orange fur.She lived with her  dad who had yellow fur and green eyes and pet frog named Hopper who was a red eyed tree frog. Her mom who had orange fur and brown eyes  had died when Puppyrellu was only two.  Puppyrellus dad married a new mean cat woman  with her two twin  1 month  old girls   Sofia  and  Alise and the two twin snakes  Austyen and Saten. Puppyrella was 11 The new family dont like Puppyrella a bit, they were only nice to her when her dad was there. One day Puppyrella’s dad got really sick; he died a few weeks later. Years passed and puppyrella was now 13 and the twins were 3. Poor Pppyrellu had become her family's servant.  The  cat mon was gray with one yellow and one blue eye, Sofa  had black fur with blue eyes, and Alise had wight fur and yellow eyes. Years passed and  Puppyrellu was now 18 and the twins were 8 and 18 year old  husky prince Jonhothyn was holding a ball and his pet poison dart frog  Croak was looking for their  princess to marry in 2 years. The night of the ball and Sage and Alise  and their mom were getting ready in fancy dresses, tights, makeup and shoes . Alice was in pink,  Sofas was in  blue, their mom hd purple. They all laughed at Puppyrellu as she was lefed   the mess they made her clean> A spray of orange sparkes and a puff of mist a tiny ferret  with wig  puppyrella’s fairy godfather and tined HOpper into a giraffe and a spinach leaf into a caring  and gave Puppyrellu a green glittery dress tight and make up which would disappear at 12. The rest of Puppyrellas family didn't recognize her  and  she danced with Johnathan all for hours till 12 where Puppyrellas stuff turned back to  normal. The next day the prince went looking for her. JOhn stopped at Puppyrellu’s house and for her and she and Hopper went to live in a castle with their new friends and lived happily ever after.

[robertmcdwells]

https://www.ebay.com.au/itm/154659391811?hash=item24026b0943:g:n6gAAOSwHxhinzYj

Frontline Spray is a flea and tick treatment that can be used on both dogs and cats. It comes in three different sizes - 100 ML, 250 ML, and 500 ML.

Frontline Spray provides protection for cats and dogs against fleas and ticks. It is safe to use on puppies and kittens as young as two days old. This spray prevents adult fleas in dogs for 12 weeks and in cats for 8 weeks. Additionally, it protects against paralysis ticks for 3 weeks and against brown dog ticks for a month, in both dogs and cats. The spray also controls flea allergy dermatitis in dogs and cats for one month.