#Commercial Bathroom Supplies

[flowerishness]

Solidago canadensis (Canada goldenrod) and Bombus impatiens (common eastern bumblebee)

Ah, Canada goldenrod in full bloom. What a wonderful sight! Canada goldenrod is not a native plant on the west coast being originally from the eastern and central parts of North America. Come to think of it, this common eastern bumblebee is also non-native being an escapee from local commercial greenhouse operations. Canada goldenrod is now considered an invasive weed (and an agricultural pest) throughout Europe and Asia. What a shame.

However, Canada goldenrod is obviously not to blame for the recent (and radical) worldwide decline in bumblebee populations. In 1950, there were 2.5 billion humans on Earth and now there's 8 billion. That's a lot of extra hungry mouths to feed. Twenty species of plants supply 90% of our food and just three - wheat, corn and rice - constitute about half. Unfortunately, all three of these plants are wind-pollinated. The hundreds of millions of acres sown in monocrops (550 million acres for wheat alone) are virtual deserts for bumblebees.

Grass is also wind-pollinated and in addition to all the land needed to graze cattle and sheep, we have another culprit: the suburban lawn. In the US for example, there are forty million acres of lawn. Twenty percent of Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Delaware and Connecticut are covered in lawns. True, grass seed often contains clover (which bumblebees love) but most gardeners fire up the lawnmower as soon as clover flowers appear. I know it can be hard to face unpleasant facts but if you're looking for someone to blame for the bumblebee crisis, just go look in your bathroom mirror.

[takeachillpillshawty]

Very specific TWST head cannons

Jack was accidentally given alcohol by a third year at a party because they thought he was also a third year.

Ruggie would make bets with students if they can guess Jack's age correctly.

Malleus would stay back at after the final class of the day just to sing, he likes the sound of the empty class room. He stopped doing that because a rumor about a "haunted class" was spreading.

Sebek yelled so hard one time, he couldn't talk the next day due to the pain.

Vil watches those self care videos, as in the earwax removal, black head removal, technically any of those gross removal videos. It's a guilty pleasure of his.

Cater is a hot cheeto girl, he and Idia would make ramen and put hot cheetos in it.

Silver is a heavy sleeper...like heavy sleeper. One time a fire broke out in Diasomnia and everyone was screaming. Only after the fire was out did he wake up.

Malleus used to talk to stuff animals as a kid.

Sebek monologues to himself, and everyone can hear him.

Sebek when he was a kid chased another child with a broken ruler for saying Malleus' name in vain.

Riddle and Jamil have this weird friendship, basically it's just them trying to relax but remembering there are idiots who are in the dorms and can't rest until they get things done.

Each dorm has their own WiFi router, Idia usually hacks into the others in case Ignihyde's one is down or he just want to see people's search history.... Let's just say he's not comfortable around certain classmates.

Idia permanently puts Ortho on child lock so people won't ask him to look up not so friendly things on the internet.

Ortho can get sick from viruses or corrupted data he accidentally downloaded.

Jade and Rook have a passive aggressive rivalry. Like imagine them in the botanical garden having lunch and Jade handed him a poison mushroom infused tea and Rook just 'accidentally' pours it in a plant watching it wither. While looking Jade dead in the eyes, both have smiles on there faces, as they passive aggressively try to kill each other.

Cater x Jade or Rook would be so fucking funny. Like imagine dating the most dangerous students in the school but hey at least the dick is crazy.

Trey has a collection of his baby teeth and his siblings baby teeth on his night stand. No-one brings it up...ever.

another reason why Cater doesn't eat sweets is because he'll get a tooth ache just eating a smore.

A student once asked Crewel if it was possible to make 'crack' in potionology..... Crewel wasn't getting paid enough for this.

Crowley has committed tax evasion.

Azul Is thicc. I said what I said, and don't boo me. I'm right.

Ruggie is banned from Monstro Lounge due to finding loop holes in Azul's contracts and getting free stuff.

Malleus hates cake with too much frosting, It defeats the purpose of the cake.

Malleus would use fae circles to teleport prefect to him.

Floyd likes to just bite things, especially his phone case.

Rook takes the best photos.

Sometimes people forget that Vil is an actor and model, so when seeing him in a movie, commercial or magazine they just get jump scared and remembered .

" oh yeah....Housewarden Vil is a celebrity.."

I think prefect is desensitized to meeting famous or high status people that they're not a big deal to them. Imagine Prefect going to a cafe and THE KALIM AL ASIM Is paying for their drink, everyone is shocked that someone who's richer than royalty is paying for you and all you say is " Oh thanks Kalim. "

I feel like up to book 6 every dorm leader helped out in repairing Ramshackle adding there own piece of their dorms in there. A gaming room from Idia, A luxurious bathroom with skin care supplies and designer clothes from Vil, pantry and groceries from Heartslaybul and Scarabia and a cook book from Trey and Jamil respectively. An indoor and outdoor pool from Savannah claw, wallpaper and decor from Azul, and finally furniture and jewelry from Malleus.

[shiftythrifting]

Ohio Turnpike commemorative glasses. Set of 6

Motorcycle muffler among the baking supplies

One of those automatic paper towel dispensers from a commercial bathroom. Not sure how it ended up in this charity thrift store

[haleyhunwritess]

hiiii if requests are open can u write one where she has bad period cramps and its seb or bucky taking care of her with like lots of fluff and maybe he teases her for crying at a commercial because shes feeling hormonal cuz of her period but it just ends with a lot of fluff💕

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝

pairing: bucky x reader

warning: period cramps, FLUFFFF

a/n: i woke up with the worst cramps possible and all i wanted was to cuddle with someone but i'm on campus now trying to get some work done :( i wanna post some more period comfort fics, maybe today or tomorrow! i have an old period comfort fic request from @chrisevansdaughter that i'm working on that i can hopefully post soon 💗

"Do you think it's bleeding? It feels like it's bleeding." Bucky groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh please, you're fine." You mumbled from the couch, clutching your lower abdomen while holding your breath as your cramps started to get worse.

This morning you'd woken up to the most painful cramps you've ever experienced. You assumed that they were pre-period cramps, and tried to go back to sleep. However, a few minutes later, you felt Bucky's hand on your shoulder gently shaking you awake. You mumbled five more minutes, before trying to go back to sleep.

"Love, wake up," he whispered, glancing down at the dark stain on the bed, "You're bleeding, doll."

Suddenly awake, you quickly opened your eyes and turned to look down at the crimson stain on the bed. Groaning loudly, you put your head in your hands. You normally got your period on time, though sometimes it could be a day or two late. It was rarely ever early. You weren't supposed to get your period for another 4 days, and yet here it was. You felt embarrassed, but fortunately that feeling didn't last long as your body started to cramp up again. You whimpered loudly, while clutching your stomach and struggling to breathe.

You struggled to sit up, as the cramps were somehow starting to get even worse. Bucky quickly put one arm behind your back, and held your hand in his, to help you sit up. You quietly thanked him before turning your gaze back down to the stain, and cursing silently, "I'm so sorry, bubba, I wasn't supposed to get my period yet. I didn't mean to ruin your sheets."

"Love, I'm not mad at you. You have nothing to be sorry about, it's okay. I'm sorry I had to wake you up but we've gotta get you cleaned up." Bucky kissed your forehead, before getting up and leaving the room.

He came back a few minutes later with some towels, a water bottle, and some ibuprofen. He handed you the ibuprofen first, which you gladly took before washing it down with some water. Then he helped you get up carefully, holding you gently in his arms as he lead you over to the bathroom. He put the towels down on the counter, then walked over to the shower to turn on the hot water.

"Alright, doll. You take as long as you need in there, okay? If you need anything, just shout and I'll come running. I'm just gonna go clean up in the room, okay?" Before you could even protest, he left the bathroom to take the sheets to the laundry.

You stepped out of the shower after a while, already starting to feel a bit better. You noticed Bucky had left a pair of his sweatpants and his favourite hoodie on the counter next to the towels. There was also a bag of supplies on the ground, with different feminine hygiene products, a heating pad, some painkillers you were definitely going to need later, and some other essentials. After drying yourself off with the towel, you got dressed quickly and decided to go check on Bucky.

You found him downstairs in the kitchen, pouring hot water into a cup. Walking over to him, you noticed a familiar sweet smell coming from the kitchen. That's when you noticed a fresh batch of his painfully-delicious pancakes sitting on the counter. You put your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. He turned around, and pulled you into his arms gently, being careful not to hug you too tight in case you still have cramps.

You helped him carry the pancakes and the tea over to the living room. You sat down in front of the TV and started flipping through the channels. Bucky picked up your fork, and started feeding you small bites as you settled on what show to watch. Eventually, breakfast was over and you were cuddled up on the couch watching titanic. You've only seen the movie once and you found the ending sad, but you never cry at the ending. Until today. It seemed like your body was determined to make you miserable today as you wiped the tears that were streaming down your face at a fast pace. You hoped Bucky wouldn't notice that you were crying, especially just because of a movie. You glanced over at him and noticed he was straight at you, and trying to stifle a laugh. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't contain his laughter anymore. He got up from the couch, still laughing, as you glared him.

"Screw you, Barnes, it's not funny!" You picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it at him, but it only made him laugh harder.

"I'm sorry, love, I couldn't help it!" He chuckled as he picked up the pillow and threw it back on the couch next to you. "I didn't think you were one to cry at movies like that. It wasn't like one glistening tear either, doll, you were nearly sobbing. Don't get me wrong though, it was adorable!"

"You jerk!" You picked up the pillow again and threw it at him but it missed him once again. As he bent over to pick the pillow back up, you picked up the remote this time, and launched it at him. Unfortunately, this time it actually hit him.

"Ow, what the-" He got up, rubbing the back of his head, "That actually hurt, doll, what was that?"

"The remote" You mumbled, trying not to laugh.

He glared at you before bending down to pick up the pillow and throw it back at you. Although he didn't mean to, he threw it pretty hard and it hit your stomach, right as the cramps decided to make a comeback. He quickly apologized and walked over to you to make sure you weren't hurt too bad.

"Just go get me the pain-killers, doofus." You mumbled, laying down sideways, clutching your lower abdomen.

He got up and made his way to the kitchen, still rubbing the spot at the back of his head, the one where you threw the remote at.

"Do you think it's bleeding? It feels like it's bleeding." Bucky groaned, as he continued to rub the back of his head, checking for any blood.

"Oh please, you're fine." You mumbled from the couch, clutching your lower abdomen while holding your breath as your cramps started to get worse.

taglist/moots: @chrisevansdaughter @cherryflavoredchapsticck @livvinitt @marvel1984 @mustacherrylover @babyhatesreality @timidpumpkin @matchat3a @pono-pura-vida @sonalokibarnes @alex-ackerman-11  @ailathealternate @lollabear @buckysugar

[indzae-mayumi]

The Nightly Hair Care

(Blue Lock fanfic, some characters only. "Blue Lock" is by Kaneshiro Muneyuki, illustrated by Nomura Yusuke)

"Eh?" Anri complained when she looked at some requests from her computer. She and Ego had already started their day.

When she looked at the skinny, nourishment-deprived recruit aka her boss, she saw he was already busy slurping his yakisoba with mayonnaise.

"Erm.... Ego-san... The guys at Building 5 are requesting for conditioner again," Anri said.

But Ego only waved his hand, which was holding a pair of chopsticks. He could not be bothered, not when he was enjoying his breakfast. Anri became livid, but kept her cool. After all, she had to put up with all of Ego's ridiculousness (unrelated to soccer) since she handpicked him to spearhead a project to help Japan win the World Cup. She could do this.

"What I'm trying to say is, it's like someone is using the conditioners up twice a day, and they have to keep requesting for them twice a day too," Anri said.

"Anri-chan," Ego said after swallowing his food. "Let them be. I am not at all interested in how they do their self-care. What I do care are their results and their stats."

Anri did not want to argue any further. Yes, Ego was all about the numbers, but finances are all about the numbers too. You gotta spend to buy conditioner for these guys, you know.

She spent the rest of the day forgetting about the "conditioner" issue.

That night, as she settled to sleep, she did not bother checking her computer, knowing that tomorrow, she would have to read the same requests again and inform the personnel to refill the supplies of the boys.

****

In the shower room of some random team in Blue Lock...

Aryu was the last to take a bath. He always wanted to take his time. Thankfully, all his other teammates had already settled for bed. Being last and alone meant that he could abuse the amount of shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom. And of course, the body wash, since he wanted to smell so good before he goes to sleep.

After all, he was osha, and he wanted to smell and look osha even when he sleeps.

He suddenly missed the bathtub in the bathroom of his room at home. As a rich kid, he luxuriously would settle at the bath tub with his phone and drinks while thinking about his many dates the weekend before.

As no one was inside the bathroom, and the hallway was long (to accommodate many bathers), he thought it might do him good to make the most of his time at Blue Lock. Besides, he was still dry, so might as well fool around in the bathroom for a bit.

He made the bathroom hall his fashion runway.

In his birthday suit, Aryu strutted along the long halls of the bathroom, posing some osha poses as he went. He leaned on the wall at one point, held on to the shower handle of another, and flipped his hair as he passed by the mirror. Oh, how he adored himself too much!

"Just look at that man on the mirror," he said to himself out loud. "So osha~ And I am the most osha here in my team. And in the whole building."

He could already imagine the number of guys who would get intimidated by his looks and his skills, for by looks alone, they were just mere mortals, while he was a model among them all. He remembered the number of modelling offers he got, but dropped them all when he received an invitation from JFU. He loved fashion, but he loved soccer more.

He continued strutting towards the end of the bathroom, and almost slipped. But he, the osha that he was, was able to gain back his poise and continued walking along his "Blue Lock runway."

"Ah, time for my bath," he said as he settled by the dispensers.

He rinsed himself well to get rid of all the sweat. Then, he took a lavish amount of the body wash and murmured some "commercial taglines" that a voiceover would be saying if he were the model of a body wash.

"Ah, I am such a tensai for thinking this way," he said as he laughed to himself. "But imagine me, the greatest striker in the world, also becoming a commercial model. For sure, women will drool over me for my lean figure and for my osha hair. That would be an osha future for me."

Next, he gathered shampoo into a lather and put on some helping on his hair. Again, like with the body wash, he concocted some commercial taglines again, with him as a shampoo commercial model.

Finally, when he went to the conditioner, he thought that he could probably empty the contents of the dispenser tonight. After all, with an osha long hair, he needed his hair to be very nourished and nice, so that when he would jump in the soccer field to "kick" the ball with his chest, his lustrous hair would flip so nicely on air. He could already imagine the sound of chimes and the sparkles around him, and the slow-mo of the moment when he would do that. A still shot of it would look perfect as a magazine centerfold, a scene from a movie trailer, or a full page straight out of a shojo manga (where the manga female lead will see him in all his sparkling aura when he would play soccer).

"I guess I might as well have to request for conditioner again," he thought as he lavishly took his sweet time bathing that night.

After changing into his night clothes, he strutted along the corridor to the monitor room with a towel on his hair and his hair dryer. He would look at the previous footages while preparing himself glamorously before sleep. And oh, to request for some conditioner too. It felt so good to make the halls of Blue Lock his fashion runway that would showcase his osha.

He sat comfortably on the chair facing the screens when he went inside the monitor room. As he started to take off the towel from his hair and started blow-drying, he idly watched the next opponent's footages from the other day. They would be having a match the next day, and he was multi-tasking. He needed to be in best condition to tackle his team's next opponents. As he watched each player one by one, he made some mental notes on what he would do if he were to be marked one-on-one by any of the men in the field.

"Oh well, whatever I do, I will always do it the osha way, and my opponent will look like a peasant next to me," he thought as he laughed impishly in osha style. "I'll finish this and deal with the conditioner later."

****

In the Team V bathroom, Reo, Nagi, and Zantetsu were took a bath for the night.

"Reo, can I just wash my body, dry it, wear my sleep clothes, and go to sleep?" Nagi drawled in his usual sleepy voice.

"Dame," Reo admonished him playfully. "I don't want you smelling sweaty at bedtime. You will look dirty too."

"Why are you babying him?" Zantetsu told Reo. "He's a grown-up teenage boy, for crying out loud."

"But I want to take care of him, you see?"

"Is he your master?" Zantetsu asked the purple-haired guy.

"Oh yes, he is, and he is also my treasure," Reo said proudly, heart growing ever fonder for the taller white-haired boy.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Born-With-The-Golden-Spoon," Zantetsu said as he started shampooing his hair. "You probably have a household help cleaning your room, and here you are, head over heels to be of service for Nagi."

"But it's my pleasure to serve him," Reo said as he started shampooing Nagi's hair. The white-haired boy, meanwhile, was scrubbing himself dutifully with his sponge filled with the body wash.

"But what is a golden spoon, by the way?" Zantetsu asked.

"Golden spoon is just a term for great affluence, you fool," Reo said.

"Baka Zantetsu," Nagi murmured.

"Must be nice being in your place," Zantetsu told Reo.

Nagi washed his whole body and his hair clean. After he was totally rinsed off, Reo asked if he wanted conditioner for his hair.

"You need it so, Nagi," Reo said. "Your hair is totally dry."

By then, Zantetsu bid them good night, since he finished bathing already. He could not be bothered anymore by Reo taking care of Nagi to the extreme, even bathing. Seriously, Nagi should pay Reo his salary.

"Reo, since you are rich, can we go to a hair salon next time too?" Nagi asked.

"Oh sure! I would love to take you there!" Reo said as he pumped some conditioner in his palm. He had Nagi bow and settle his head on the wall so he could reach up to the taller boy's head to give his friend's hair some loving conditioning.

"Do rich kids always have good hair too?"

"What do you mean?" Reo asked in surprise. "Have you seen all our other classmates? They are rich too. Of course, they will have pretty hair."

"I am not rich," Nagi said, though Reo would have to disagree. Kids enrolled in their prep school are affluent to some extent. It's just Reo who was of another level.

Soon, Nagi was snoring while leaning his head on the bathroom wall. Reo's fingers on his hair was making him feel so good. He really was one lazy, lazy boy who would rather have someone condition his hair like this. Or if he was feeling extremely lazy, he wish he could just zip his belly open for Reo to bring his empty stomach to the canteen to fill it with food before bringing the full stomach back to the room for Nagi to attach to his body.

"Reo, can I put some conditioner on my body too?" Nagi asked.

Reo was taken aback. "What for? You already slathered yourself with body wash earlier."

"I don't want to put on lotion after bathing because it's a hassle," Nagi said before yawning. "My body has hair just like my head. So I need conditioner too. Might as well put it on me while I am naked."

Reo laughed. "Sou ka? Well, might as well take advantage of the bathing supplies here, I guess."

Reo took out the conditioner dispenser and stood in front of Nagi, who opened his palms. Reo pumped out some, with Nagi complaining that Reo was being stingy with the conditioner. The purple-haired guy just laughed, totally amused at his treasure. Finally, once Nagi was contented, he slapped some conditioner on his body, with Reo helping him getting some on his back.

As the two were busy with their conditioner, another teammate, Midorikawa, saw them wasting conditioner.

"Hey! Leave some for me!" he growled.

"Gomen," Nagi remarked before leaning his head on the wall to start rinsing.

Midorikawa took his place beside Reo and started rinsing. He was hoping that there would still be bathing supplies that he could use tonight. Otherwise, he would have to ask for more supplies like what he did for two nights already.

Nagi and Reo finished bathing and headed to the locker room to change for the night. Unfortunately for Midorikawa, by the time he pumped some shampoo on his palm, the dispenser was empty. He took the empty container and threw it on the floor in anger.

"Nandato?!?" he screamed angrily. He would probably just use the body wash to shampoo his hair for the meantime.

While changing, Nagi and Reo decided to watch some footages of the next match that they would be having. Reo decided to bring along the hair dryer so he could dry his hair and Nagi's too, though he knew Nagi was beyond hope when it came to ordinary diligence.

Inside the monitor room, the two sat together in silence. To Reo, it felt like a movie date sans the snacks. He dried his hair first while Nagi attentively watched the movements of the people on screen. After his hair dried, he offered to dry Nagi's hair.

"Like to lie on my lap?"

Nagi obliged without answering.

"Don't you sleep on me, Nagi," Reo told him. "We will still be discussing the footage and strategies."

"Haiiii," Nagi drawled before yawning.

Reo's fingers on his scalp felt good, Nagi thought as he closed his eyes. The warm air from the blow-dryer was also an incentive for sleeping. He did not bother to care about the footage on screen anymore. He was already too sleepy to even bathe, but he only relented to come with Reo because it's Reo asking him to. Like the good boy he always had been.

Reo was still attentive in watching the screen while drying Nagi's hair, but he soon realized that his friend had fallen asleep.

"Ah, what do I do? I shall piggyback him again," he sighed with a smile. It had mostly been like this. "What a lazy child."

Reo turned off the blow dryer and ran his fingers through Nagi's hair and scalp. He lit up a smile while looking at the serene face of the sleeping boy on his lap. Nagi had really nice hair (on top of being cute). He just needed to keep it up and not be lazy about it. It was so smooth and silky despite the type of conditioner used.

"What brand shall I buy for him once I win here in Blue Lock?" he asked himself.

He was already daydreaming about the type of treatment Nagi and he should avail of in his okaa-san's favorite salon. As someone who sometimes appeared at the sidelines during his otoo-san's press conferences, he knew what was needed as the son of the super rich. Though he wanted everyone at Blue Lock to refer to him by his first name rather than be associated with his family name (because everyone at Blue Lock knew who his family was), Reo still knew he always had to look good. He knew it was his responsibility to be so. So he knew what needed to be done. As for Nagi, Reo was willing to spend that much fortune too if it meant making Nagi look good. If he would not win here at Blue Lock, at least, he could make it second place, with Nagi as the last man standing. After all, they vowed to win the World Cup together. And it meant that, in front of the media, they should look extremely presentable.

****

Most of the guys from Team Z, except for Bachira, hurried up taking a bath that evening after dinner. The master dribbler took his time because he enjoyed the warmth of the shower water when he heard a familiar voice calling out to him.

"Finish up, Bachira. The princess will be taking a bath now," it seemed like Igaguri.

"Haiii," the happy bee smiled as he finished his shower.

He looked at the bottle of conditioner and wondered why it always seemed to be full. Yes, he used the body wash a lot, and the shampoo too, but he could not be bothered much with conditioning his hair. He knew that a lot of the guys at Team Z did not bother with it that much too. Igaguri, with his buzz cut, only ever used the body wash to wash everything, including his head.

"Ah, must be the princess, heehee," he thought as he pulled out his towel to dry himself, and walked out of the showers in his birthday suit.

As he was about to walk out of the bathroom, he met Kunigami and Chigiri, who were about to walk in.

"Are you taking a bath together again?" Bachira asked.

"Yes, why?" Kunigami asked nonchalantly.

Bachira smiled, "Can we all try to take a bath as a team too?"

"It's too crowded," Chigiri complained. "I know you guys make a fuss about me and my hair care. It's only this hero here who is patient with me."

"Can you put on some damn clothes before you go to the dorm?" Kunigami asked.

"But I like it this way," Bachira said before going away happily.

The two friends started their nightly bath. Kunigami noticed that Chigiri was extremely generous with himself when it came to the shampoo and conditioner (and with the body wash too).

"I didn't mean to ask, but you seem to be consuming the conditioner up almost every day," Kunigami told the vain man.

"I could do better, if it were up to me," Chigiri boasted. "Their conditioner is a weak version of the one nee-chan and I use. And I love my hair. Besides, I can use as much as I want since I am not paying for this."

Kunigami knew that. Anytime, any of the contenders at Blue Lock could get eliminated. Might was well use the amenities to the contentment of one's heart. And Chigiri was doing just that, but abusing it to some degree.

"You want some conditioner, Hero?" Chigiri asked in a playful voice.

"I really don't do much of it, but okay, Princess," Kunigami said with a smile.

After all, whenever they bathed together, Chigiri would often put on the conditioner for him, and Kunigami loved how the other guy massaged his scalp. It seemed like a trance that could help him sleep better every night.

After their shower, they went to the locker room to change into their sweatshirt and sweatpants. And Chigiri still had to dry his hair before he goes to sleep. He took his hair dryer from his locker so he could dry his hair in the dorm.

By the time they reached their dorm, Iemon and Gagamaru had started to prepare their own futons and blankets. Isagi told the others to reserve a spot for him next to Bachira, to which the happy bee told the others to reserve two spots near Isagi because he knew that the princess and the hero wanted to be next to each other at bedtime. While Nayuhara and Imamura, who just finished his skin care, were having a pillow fight with Igaguri, Chigiri and Kunigami settled near an electric outlet. From the background, Raichi raised his voice in anger because someone's smelly pillow was thrown to his face.

"Let me dry your hair for you," Kunigami offered.

"Wow, thanks. You're so thoughtful," Chigiri smiled as he handed his dryer to his friend.

As the others thrived in chaos before bedtime, the two had their own silent world. Chigiri hummed contentedly when he felt Kunigami's fingers brushing through his hair as his hair is being blow-dried. Kunigami could not help but fall in love with Chigiri's soft hair, which glided smoothly through his fingers. If Chigiri's hair felt this soft despite the quality of the conditioner used, he could imagine how softer it would be if the speedster used a conditioner of better quality.

"If your hair is as beautiful as your face, I bet your fashion outside of school could make any fashionistas out there cry with envy," Kunigami told him.

Chigiri bit his tongue, feeling his cheeks warm. Did Kunigami just call him beautiful? He swore, his insides felt warm too when Kunigami's fingers brushed against his nape.

"Th... thanks," Chigiri said as he tucked some bits of hair behind his ears. He seemed to love flirting with the ginger-haired nice guy. "Do you want me to dry your hair too?"

"Yes please," Kunigami replied. "After all, you always accompany me during gym time."

"Did this all just start after we traded food?" Chigiri asked, laughing lightly.

Kunigami's pensive response had Chigiri blushing again, "Maybe it did. Something in your eyes back then had me immediately say 'yes' to you."

The two continued their little domestic affair even as Iemon had been admonishing the pranksters for making a mess of the laid-out futons.

Meanwhile, Kuon, who took a bath last, complained as he pushed the pump of the conditioner hard, as there was only a small amount left. Not again! Did he have to ask for conditioner again? Just who among in Team Z drank conditioner for dinner? He seemed to be doing this for many nights now.

--end--

[carolmunson]

love ya pretty baby!! how about 5✨

He's going off 'cause they're not gonna let him in, Two and a half, the boy is rushing out his skin, He's got his charm with the girls that are smoking, He takes her arm, jumps the bar and now he's in.

babyasif!eddie - before the break up. (18+ drug use, drinking, oral - male receiving)

He stumbles out the back of Deleon, the rough shove of the bouncer making him trip over his shined shoes and into the wet bricks of the building next door.

"Get the fuck outta here," he grizzles, "And we don't wanna see you back, either."

It's not the first time Eddie's gotten kicked out of a bar for being beligerent, but at least he wasn't getting arrested. He trips moving forward, palms hitting the asphalt with a sliding crunch but he can't feel it. He's buzzing, jaw tight -- jittery.

As he makes his way out to the main street the light glitter in his eyes, too bright, too shiny. They float in and out of his vision while he makes his way down the street to the next spot. He does have a quota to meet after all.

His tongue runs over his teeth and in on itself, hot and cold and again, he chews on his bottom lip.

Bzz. Bzz.

He ignores it, catching his reflection in a shop window where he fixes up his hair. Finally happy with his appearance he makes his way further down the street until he bumps into the back of a long line for a new spot that opened up.

"Can you watch where you're g--oh, hi."

Bzz. Bzz.

His eyes travel over who owns the aggravated voice -- a light pink bodycon dress on tanned skin, caramel straightened hair passed her shoulders. When their eyes meet he sees they're a shimmering brown, the sparkle on her eyes and lips take hold on him. Easy target.

He smiles, "Hi, um, are you in line?"

"Yeah, me and my girls," she smiles, cocking her head over to two blondes and a red head -- all just as hot as the next. Little dresses and high heels, they'll get drinks bought for them all night. Certainly they can spare some change for good quality cocaine. The best Indiana has to offer from the best guy who could offer them.

"What's your name?" he smiles, eyes flitting from her manicure toes back up to her eyes, "What are a bunch of pretty girls like you doing on this side of town?"

He doesn't even know what he's saying, the charm just pools out of him. He doesn't care where she goes to school or what Blonde #2 is majoring in. He just wants to know what she looks like under that dress, how much money she's gonna spend, how quick it'll take her to say yes to sneaking to the bathroom with him.

Bzz. Bzz.

Before he knows it the group is saying he's with them and he's able to get by without a cover fee. Her tanned hand lacing with his pale one while they make their way into the club. Jackpot, he thinks.

It's a game of shots, one right after the other until he's comfortable enough to ask the girls if they want any of his supply -- he'll even give a discount since they're so sweet. They take the bait like bears to honey, dancing to house beats eith their hands in the air, eyes closed -- like a depression medicine commercial. It's too easy.

Once the cash is in hand he disappears from that group like a theif in the night. Befriends a bottle girl or two. Word gets around that the guy in the leather jacket has the goods and he starts to make a killing.

Tiff is her name, the girl in the light pink bodycon dress. He spots her again hours later, pupils as blown as he is.

Bzz. Bzz.

They both weave through people to get to each other, she stumbles on her high heels. He can barely see straight at this point, the liquor and drugs not balancing each other out quite right. The lights glitter the way they did outside but worse, he squints, and then gets to her. Another shot that makes his eyes heavy -- one too many. His hands reach around her to dance to the beat, feeling beads of sweat build on his neck. His eyes close, she's pressed up against him.

They open, he can taste her vanilla lip gloss. They close, he grabs handfuls of her ass over the soft fabric, slotting his knee between her thighs. They open, he's leading her to the back of the club.

They close, they make out against the wall until the bathroom door opens.

They open, his pants are half way down his thighs while Tiff kneels on the bathroom floor between his legs. The bass from the club does little the muffle the sound of how sloppy she's going at it. His eyes roll in his head when his tip hits the back of her throat, hand resting on the top of her head.

"Fuuuck, that's it," he breathes, half in pleasure, half bored.

Bzz. Bzz.

He fishes into his jacket pocket for his phone, wincing at the bright light while he opens the screen. He dims it quickly, as to not alert Tiff whose face is buried in his pelvis.

Three missed calls. Four texts.

Missed Call x 3 Sweetheart

New Message Sweetheart 9:54 PM

hey, you were supposed to be here an hour ago. where are you?

New Message Sweetheart 10:41 PM

are you coming still? gare said he hasn't seen you. are you okay?

New Message Sweetheart 11:55 PM

i'm going to bed, rick said you were working. i miss you.

New Message Sweetheart 11:59 PM

do you miss me?

He sighs, biting his lower lip when Tiff starts to use her hands too.

"Shiiiit, doll, don't stop," he groans out, holding her head in place while she groans back in response. He shoddily types out a response with his thumb.

ofc i miss u, baby i'll see u tomorro n get u something pretty

He shoves the phone back in his pocket when Tiff finds her way up his chest, sticky gloss lips at his neck.

"Fuck me," she huffs against his skin. He smirks, a low chuckle coming from his throat. He takes her by the hips, leaning her over the skin so that he can finally see what's under that little pink dress, "Like you even have to ask."

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

ACOTAR Ask Game

acotar character ask game

I have had very low engagement on Tumblr recently and want to do something fun :)

send me a number and 2 characters and i will tell you who is most likely the answer to the question.  

which character is most likely to forget their kid at the grocery store?

which character is most likely to cheat on their spouse? would they get caught?

which character decides to get in touch with nature, ends up getting lost, catching poison ivy, and eating some psychedelic berries?

which character does a cheesy “i love you” at the airport in front of strangers?

which character ends up getting drunk at their wedding reception and kisses the best man/woman?

whose name is written on the bathroom wall to “call for a good time”?

who decides to pledge to a fraternity/sorority? what kind of hazing did they endure?

who read an erotic novel, decided to try a new position, and ended up with a pulled calf muscle and a bruised tailbone?

which character tried to recreate the upside-down rain kiss from spider-man? did they succeed?

who is most likely to be tucked into bed by 8:15pm on new year’s eve?

who is most likely to kiss a stranger on new year’s eve?

which character decided to jump on the meme stock and invested all their money in gamestop? did it reach the moon?

who decided to get into full costume on halloween to blend in with the neighborhood kids and go trick-or-treating?

which character decided to do a public proposal only to be rejected by the person they asked to marry them? 

which character most likely collects something embarrassing/stupid/useless? what do they collect?

which character is the obnoxious sport parent who takes their kid’s little league sport too seriously?

which character forgot to bake something for their kid’s bake sale and ended up buying donuts at a gas station on the way?

which character got so drunk they stood on top of the bar and shouted the lyrics to oops i did it again by britney spears?

which character got drunk and ended up with an embarrassing tattoo? what is the tattoo?

which character is super into astrology and makes it a point to read their horoscope and their friend’s horoscope? 

which character would write a love letter and never send it?

who cries during the animal rescue commercial and always calls and donates right after watching?

which character watches creative hobby videos on youtube for hours, buys all the supplies to do try the hobby, and then never actually do the hobby? what is the hobby?

who is more likely to accidentally commit a crime? what is the crime?

which character decides to organize a flash mob, but only manages to get 3 people to show up? who showed up?

which character is the worst to play charades with and why?

which character thought it was a good idea to dance in the rain with their partner only to end up with a head-cold? 

which character is the best secret santa?

what character begs to watch the scary movie only to be completely traumatized and unable to sleep without a nightlight and bed checks for monsters?

which character fake cries to get out of a speeding ticket? does it work?

[wisteriasymphony]

TWEOS - Ch46 preview

(to everyone still keeping up with this, I'm so sorry!! this chapter has been difficult to finish for no good reason :,) ADHD go brr.)

(CW: homophobic/transphobic/ableist slurs)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"CLAUDIA GUADALUPE FUCKING PERREAULT, YOU OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

Adrien had never heard Marthe's voice before. It certainly wasn't ideal that the first time for it was hearing her shout at Claudia while banging her fists on the locked door to the apartment's only bathroom.

Claudia and Adrien had fallen asleep—if only for a few hours—in Claudia's bathtub. It was surreal, and Adrien felt aches in places he didn't even know had feeling, but what hurt the most was having to let go of Claudia when he got up to get the door.

"I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU ACT LIKE YOU'RE THE ONLY DAMN PERSON IN THIS HOUSE—"

"I'll be out in a fucking minute! ¡Callate!"

Claudia slammed the door just as quickly as she had opened it. Marthe was now shaking the doorknob as she shouted.

"DO NOT USE THAT MAN'S LANGUAGE IN THIS HOUSE! —YOU'RE HIDING SOMEONE IN THERE, YOU LITTLE RETARD! AND WHEN I FIND HIM, YOU'LL SURE AS HELL GET—"

Adrien open the door this time. As Marthe reached her hand in, he grabbed her wrist. To put it simply, Marthe Perreault was that odd blend of disgustingly ugly and conventionally attractive—long lashes on slightly bulging eyes, crow's feet and smile lines on a perfectly shaped face, sleek straight hair in an unflattering bun, so on and so forth. Not like it mattered either which way, of course.

Adrien mustered up what little he had left of that princely, elegant voice he used in commercials: 

"She's done nothing wrong. I'll be on my way shortly."

Marthe was taken aback, but only for a moment. She ripped her hand from his grip, before staring daggers into Claudia. It meant two things: One, Marthe had made the correct assumption that Claudia had bagged a 'wealthy boy' and incorrectly assumed that she had done so purely with her body; And two, that Marthe thought Claudia had intentionally set this 'boy friend' up against her for spurious reasons. 

"You better," Marthe spat. "And if I hear in the news she's gotten some boy like you—"

"Mom, it's not like that," Claudia lied. "She's just a friend of mine."

"Emilie," he added on. "I just needed to stay the night."

"...A dyke, then." Marthe had gotten to the point where she had lost all interest. “Or one of those transvestites. …Get your ass out of here before I call the police.”

So, they made their way out the door—Adrien first, then Claudia after once she’d packed a messenger bag full of supplies. Things that weren’t as valuable as the usual array: A bottle of water, the last snacks left in the house, an extra scarf, so on and so forth. Not like it would’ve been stolen either way, given that Adrien always made sure to be on the same side as it when they walked together so the bag would be sandwiched between them. It meant he could get a closer look at the bag, too—This faded charcoal leather with rustled buckles and decorated with plastic pins, a brooch of cranberries, a Tokio Hotel pinback button, worn corners on the edges of the bag, nicks and scratches on the sides…

“Why Emilie?” Claudia asked. She had to turn around to talk to him, the both of them stopped on the stairs of the second floor.

“…I don’t know,” he replied, even though he very much did. “Just a reflex. I used to get called it a lot as a little kid,” Adrien gestured to demonstrate about how tall he was at that point in time, which was about to his hips. “So I just got comfortable with it, y’know?” Another lie. It made him sick that he’d used it himself after all this time. “…it stopped happening around when my mom died.”

“Wasn’t Emilie your mom’s name anyways?”

“…Yeah. That’s what I mean.” Plus, it mostly happened when he and his mother were in the same room. Mostly by photographers at that, sometimes by relatives, occasionally his own father. That last part he could never really explain to himself.

They both started walking again, nearly out the door. 

“Sorry about my mom, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Adrien said. “At least I was called something new this time. After all, once people stopped calling me Emilie, they started calling me a—“

“...faggot?”

“…Yeah. That word.” Adrien wasn’t sure if he was grateful that he didn’t have to say it or offended that she did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

tags: @myriadmi @cutepastelstarsalior @dayochoco

(these are just people i cross-referenced with the ao3 kudos! if you want to be added to the list or taken off, please tell me!)

[fahmbathrooms]

High-Quality Commercial Bathroom Supplies

Discover a wide range of high-quality commercial bathroom supplies at FAHM Bathroom. Our brand is dedicated to providing top-notch products that combine functionality and style. From sleek faucets and durable fixtures to luxurious towels and reliable hand dryers, we have everything you need to create an exceptional restroom experience. Elevate your commercial space with FAHM Bathroom's premium supplies. For more information, contact us at (08) 9458 2880.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Being Afraid Doesn't Mean You're Weak (Part 1)

Fandom: DC, The Suicide Squad, Rick Flag

Summary: Rick has known about your fear of flying for a while. So when your plane heads directly into a storm on the way to a mission, he tries his best to make you as comfortable as possible.

Word Count: 2014

TW: Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Panic Attack, Past Trauma

Part 1, Part 2

Series Masterlist

You hated flying. It was the one thing that really scared you. Not guns, not snakes, not bugs, not public speaking, not even death. But flying….. On your first tour overseas, you had been in a terrible helicopter crash that left you broken and burned and the only survivor. From that moment on, flying was a torturous event for you.

Rick had learned all of this the hard way soon after you joined ARGUS. On the first few missions after you joined the team, he had noticed your odd behavior on the cargo planes to and from your locations. That you always found a spot as far away from any window as possible. That you kept your eyes squeezed shut the entire flight, lips occasionally moving in silent conversation, while your knuckles turned white as you firmly grasped objects around you. That you always fell asleep on the return trips, sometimes needing him to shake you awake or even half drag you from the plane when you got back to Belle Reve.

But he didn’t find out the truth until Waller sent both of you to DC to debrief some senators on your latest mission. As the two of you boarded the commercial flight, you seemed just as anxious as usual, if not more so. However, Rick just figured you were nervous about presenting in front of a room of government big shots. So, he settled down in his seat and drifted off to sleep.

But halfway through the flight, everything had gone wrong. Rick was startled awake by the sounds of your muffled screams as you tried desperately to stifle your terror. You were doubled over in your seat, hands pressed firmly against your mouth as tears streamed down your face. As he frantically reached out, asking what was wrong, the plane hit another patch of turbulence that had you ripping off your seat belt and fleeing to the small bathroom in the back of the plane. Ignoring the flight attendant who was trying to figure out what was going on, Rick quickly followed you. When you refused to open the door, he kicked it open only to find you huddled on the floor sobbing into your hands as your whole body trembled. He asked for no explanation, he just scooped you into his arms and held you tight as he whispered words of comfort into your hair for the remainder of the flight.

When you reached your hotel in DC, you had explained everything to him: the helicopter crash, your flashbacks, how Waller knew but didn’t care, that you were allowed to take medication to knock you out on return flights but not on the way to missions, that the smaller the aircraft or the closer you were to the windows the worse it was. You had waited for Rick to tease you, or to say he thought you were weak, or to tell you he didn’t want you on his team anymore. But instead, he had just nodded and given you a reassuring smile.

Since that day, Rick had done everything in his power to make the flights as comfortable as possible for you. To start with, everyone on Task Force X was under strict instructions: you do not bother the sergeant while in the air. All questions as to why were immediately shut down. Then, he would try to get to the airfield a few minutes early to create an impromptu barrier around your seat in the back of the plane that gave you some privacy from the rest of the team. He even started carrying a few of your sleeping pills for the flight home after one time your supply had gotten ruined on a mission.

Rick told himself he was doing this to help a fellow soldier, his right hand, his partner. But as time went on, he knew that you had become so much more than that. And every time he caught a glimpse of you, jaw clenched, knuckles white, and eyes squeezed tight, it felt like a knife to his heart. Because he knew that as much as he tried to lessen your pain, there was nothing he could do to take it away completely.

Today’s mission was already a disaster, and the Squad hadn’t even made it to their location yet. Half the team was comprised of new recruits with no idea what they were really in for. Once on the plane, they wouldn’t stop bickering or yelling at each other. Plus, something about the mission felt off to Rick. And now…..

With a sigh, he left the bickering Squad members and headed back to your private hideaway. He knocked gently on the crates surrounding your seat and squeezed past them to see you better. You glanced up quickly before shutting your eyes again. Rick cleared his throat. “Sorry to bother you…”

“You could never bother me, Colonel. What’s up?” You were trying to keep your tone light, but Rick could see the firm set of your jaw and the tightness in your shoulders.

“I’m sorry darlin’, but the pilot just informed me we’re headed straight through an incoming storm. No way to avoid it.”

Your fingernails dug deeper into the material of your tact pants as you nodded. “Thank you for letting me know. I, um, I’ll try my best to……you know.”

Rick nodded back, he knew how bad normal flights were for you and how a single bump of turbulence could send you into a full-fledged panic attack. He couldn’t even imagine the hell you were about to go through. He started to head back up with the rest of the squad, but he couldn’t help asking, “Would you like me to stay with you? Just so you’re not alone.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but it seemed to help a little the first time. I just want to help you through this.”

“Rick….” You stared down at your hands. He knew you only called him by his first name when things were really serious. “I don’t want you to see me like that again. It’s bad enough that you know….I don’t need you to be reminded how weak I am.”

He knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, I know what it’s like going through this. Just because mine happens at night in my dreams instead of up here in the sky, doesn’t mean I don’t deal with these same kinds of memories, these same fears. We’ve both been through some real shit in our lives. The kinds of things people aren’t supposed to go through. That doesn’t make you weak. Being afraid doesn't mean you're weak. But the fact you climb back on this plane mission after mission even after what happened makes you the strongest person I’ve ever met.”

You bit your lip as it began to quiver, and Rick could see you were fighting to hold back tears. “Thank you, Rick. If…if you don’t mind, I would like you to stay.”

He nodded and settled into the seat next to you, both of you silently waiting for what came next.

The storm came out of nowhere. One second, it was smooth sailing, and the next, the entire aircraft was shuddering. As the plane hit a particularly rough bump, your hands flew to the armrests, putting them both in viselike grips. But you were too scared to notice that your right hand hadn’t actually grabbed the armrest. Instead, it had wrapped tightly around Rick’s hand. You squeezed it so hard, Rick could feel the bones in his hand shift painfully. But he didn’t make a sound.

Once the plane settled, you relaxed slightly, loosening your grip. When you realized you had been grasping his hand instead of the armrest, heat rushed to your cheeks. You tried mumbling an apology and pulling it away, but Rick held on tightly. He linked your fingers with his and gave you a reassuring squeeze. You actually gave him a small smile in return, before the aircraft was once again shaken by the storm outside.

Your free hand flew to cover your mouth as you released a muffled scream of terror. Without a second thought, Rick lifted you over the armrest and into his lap, his one hand never leaving yours. You buried your face in his chest as your free hand clutched wildly at his tactsuit. Your breathing was wild and panicked, just on the cusp of hysteria. He gently rubbed your back, whispering, “It’s alright darlin’. I’ve got you. I swear, I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe.”

You nodded into his chest. And soon, your muffled cries grew quieter, your trembling lessened, and your grip on him slackened. You were still curled tightly against him, but Rick could see your terror slowly melting away even as the plane still shuddered and rocked. He felt your breathing synchronizing with his, and soon the two of you were breathing as one.

About ten minutes later, the storm seemed to have passed as the plane resumed its normal flight pattern. Rick stared down at you still resting on his chest, seemingly asleep. You appeared more relaxed than he had ever seen you on a plane, even when you were passed out from your pills. You looked so beautiful that he couldn’t help himself from softly stroking your hair.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

The unexpected sound of your voice startled Rick, causing him to flinch slightly, but he said, “Of course, darlin’. Anything.”

“What are you scared of Colonel?” The question was barely more than a whisper.

He thought for a long moment, then quietly muttered, “I’m scared of you….of this.” He lifted his hand that was still tangled with yours. “I’m scared of how you make me feel when I’m around you and how I feel when I’m not. I’m scared I’ll lose you before I ever have you. I’m scared of us taking a chance because of Waller and I’m scared of us continuing to deny what’s here. So, yeah…You terrify me.”

You smiled brightly as you snuggled deeper into his chest. “Huh. Well, I’m not scared of any of that.”

“Oh really? And why’s that?”

“Because I’ve loved you since the moment you found me on the floor of that airplane bathroom and just held me with no judgment or explanation. Because you are the one person I trust completely, mind, body, and heart. Because you are the only person who has ever made what I just went through the least little bit better. Because you’re Colonel Rick Flag and when you care about something, you do everything in your power to protect it. So, yeah….I could never be scared of you.”

Rick chuckled, “Like I said, strongest person I ever met. Bravest too.”

“Well, maybe I can teach you to be a little braver.” You cupped his face in your hand and drew him into your lips.

Rick had thought about this moment for months, practically since the moment he had laid eyes on you. And once again, he silently praised you for your bravery, for making the move he had been too afraid of making. And it was everything he had dreamed of and more.

But moments later, the sound of Rick’s alarm beeping broke the two of you apart. Groaning loudly, Rick glanced at his tablet and cursed under his breath. Shifting you off his lap, he stood up with a sigh, “I wish we had more time darlin’, but we have to get movin’.” You nodded sadly, but he knew you understood. “Are you sure you’re good to go?”

“Of course. You know I have no problem jumping out. Anything to get off this thing faster.” You laughed as Rick helped you to your feet.

Rick smiled at you as he grabbed his tablet and left your makeshift hideaway. He quickly read through the list of the current Task Force members. “Harkness, Javelin, Quinn, Mongal, TDK, Hertz, Weasel, Savant. Line up and get ready to jump. We’re here.”

[yekkil]

Sink mixer taps and faucets are necessary fixtures used in residential and commercial spaces to control the movement of water in sinks or basins. They are commonly found in kitchens and bathrooms. And their primary purpose is to regulate the water supply for various tasks such as washing hands, dishes, or vegetables. Sink cock taps and faucets offer convenience, functionality, and aesthetic appeal.

[testormblog]

Dirty and Poor

I had little to amuse my inquisitive mind, a few homemade, wooden toys and the hammer I’d confiscated from Dad. Some children like to bang pots and pans; I loved to bang the hammer, mostly on the nails popping up from the old house’s floorboards. The noise let Mother know where I was playing. At first, I bruised my small fingers. With practice, my aim with the hammer became proficient unlike Dad’s.

There weren’t other children to play with. The yard dog, Woolie, black with curly fur, kept me company instead. The dog was so large that I could sit on its back. Together, we observed the comings and goings in our surroundings, in particular the trains passing the house. The rail motor travelled back and forth from Bethania to Beaudesert twice daily. Steam engines hauled regular goods trains. The most exciting, noisy and smelly were the long cattle and horse trains, headed with two steam engines, going to the abattoir. I’d tell my dog everything. He always seemed interested until one day, Woolie became bored and wandered off. The dog was likely bitten by a snake. Time moved slowly with the same daily routine. Except one day, I heard a steam engine’s brakes.

I excitedly watched it stop on the line beside my house. Whilst I wasn’t allowed outside to investigate the unusual event, this was the best day in my life to date! Men offloaded wooden planks from the train’s freight wagons. This second hand timber had come from Camp Cable, the wartime American Army camp, several miles up the line, near Logan Village. Life became interesting. My family were building a house nearby and closer to Bethania Railway Station. My great uncle had transferred to my father a patch of land considered too small for dairy cows or commercial cropping. This triangle of land had been part of the farm established by my forebears before the railway line and the road had separated it. The military had occupied the land and its surrounds with a transit camp. Bethania had been the intersection point for trains transporting troops to the Canungra Jungle Training Camp and Camp Cable.

Pop, an uncle and a neighbour built the cottage where the military’s tents and mess huts had been. Dad wasn’t skilled in carpentry. The simple home had one bedroom, a sitting room, a kitchen, a front veranda and a bathroom with an open wash house and a thunderbox outside. I slept in a cot tucked behind the bedroom cupboard.

As it was in a rural area, the cottage received no rubbish collection, sewerage or water supply services. Rubbish and effluent weren’t an issue. These were buried when Dad showed the inclination. Maintaining sufficient water in the two small tanks for household use and the vegetable garden was an issue. We were dependent on rainfall. Even then, the high tank had to be over half full for enough water pressure to exist for the bathroom and kitchen taps to flow. Mostly, water was dispensed by bucket. I was bathed once a week, and only if I looked sufficiently dirty, in no more than an inch of water in the bath tub. As I didn’t own a toy boat, I didn’t mind.

The cottage did have electricity for lights and three power points for the fridge and sewing machine in the kitchen and the small radio in the sitting room. Dad installed the power pole near the cottage. He purchased a milled log from the sawmiller. Then, he and his mates met, because that was the only labour available, to dig by shovel a large hole in which to stand the pole. At one metre deep, the men hit hard rock. Whilst they didn’t think the hole to be deep enough, they still positioned and raised the pole. For years after, Dad prayed the pole wouldn’t topple on the house in vicious wind. It held until the electricity company replaced it.

A wood stove sat in the kitchen. Finding wood was a chore and a cost most families struggled with. My father fed the stove with used railway sleepers his maintenance gang shared amongst themselves.

Outside, Dad constructed a fowl house from old tanks, sleepers and wire and dug a garden to support the family with eggs, meat and vegetables.

The primitive house met my biggest wish. The rail track ran along the backyard’s fence line! I loved waving at the passengers and guards. Sometimes, I watched Dad banging the spikes along the track.

I was far happier outside, away from Mother’s sight. In addition to the ambience her temperament created, inside the cottage was a horrid place to be. Mother hated housework. We lived in the continual squalor of dirty dishes, clothes, floors and fireplace. The beds weren’t made. The ‘night water’ wasn’t always taken outside early in the morning.

Mother presented a different face outside the cottage however. She was immaculately dressed as a walking advertisement for her dressmaking skills. She was a seamstress and a busy one. Initially, she received her clients in the sitting room but soon a small room was added to the veranda to keep clients away from the squalor. At one point, she started a dressmaking shop with a friend in Beenleigh. Their venture failed quickly as neither understood how to manage a business’ finances.

Money regularly created tension between my parents. There was father’s, mother’s and the housekeeping. Dad handed over the agreed housekeeping from his wage to pay the bills. There never seemed to be enough though. Appliances had been purchased on high interest hire purchase plans. Whatever Mother earnt from sewing appeared to be hers to spend how she wished, usually on more clothes for herself. Dad wasted what remained of his wage on race horses and alcohol. Their financial struggle was a circular form of hell that they couldn’t escape from, precipitated by their inability to work together. Whilst they didn’t physically abuse each other, verbally they did.

[maidinallen-blog]

The Ultimate Shower Cleaning Routine for a Sparkling Bathroom

Tired of a dirty shower? Follow these simple steps to get your shower looking brand new in no time. Say goodbye to soap scum and hello to a fresh, clean space.

Cleaning your shower doesn't have to be a daunting task. With these five simple steps, you can easily tackle any mess and enjoy a clean, refreshing shower.

Say goodbye to grime and hello to a sparkling clean shower with these five easy steps. Learn how to clean your shower like a pro today!

Gather Your Supplies.

Before you start cleaning your shower, make sure you have all the necessary supplies. You will need a scrub brush, a squeegee, a cleaning solution (such as vinegar and water or a commercial cleaner), a bucket, and a microfiber cloth. 

It’s also a good idea to wear gloves to protect your hands from any harsh chemicals in the cleaning solution. Once you have everything you need, you’re ready to start cleaning!

Products & Tools

The products and tools that you’re going to need for this are:

Tub and tile cleaner (here’s a great DIY tub and tile cleaner)

All-purpose bathroom cleaner

Microfiber cloth,

Rubber gloves

Squeegee

Non-scratching sponge

Microfiber cloth

Cleaning toothbrush. 

Cleaning tools recommender:

Eraser Scrub Daddy 10 x

When it comes to scrubbing the walls and floor of your shower, having the right cleaning tool can make all the difference. 

That’s where the Scrub Daddy comes in. This versatile sponge is perfect for tackling tough stains and grime, while still being gentle enough to use on delicate surfaces. 

Plus, its unique texture changes based on the temperature of the water, making it even more effective at scrubbing away dirt and grime. 

Simply wet the Scrub Daddy, apply your cleaning solution, and start scrubbing away. Your shower will be sparkling clean in no time!

Scotch-Brite, Bath Scrubber,

Scrubbing the walls and floor of your shower may not be the most enjoyable task, but it’s essential for keeping your shower sparkling clean. 

To make the job easier, invest in a high-quality scrub brush or sponge, like the Scrub Daddy or Scotch-Brite Bath Scrubber. These tools are designed to tackle tough stains and grime, while still being gentle enough to use on delicate surfaces. 

Pre-Treat the Shower.

Before you start scrubbing away at your shower, it’s important to pre-treat any areas that are particularly dirty or stained. 

This will help to loosen up any grime or buildup, making it easier to clean. You can use a variety of pre-treatment methods, depending on the type of stain you’re dealing with. 

For example, if you have hard water stains, you can use a mixture of vinegar and baking soda to dissolve the buildup. For soap scum, you can use a commercial cleaner or a mixture of dish soap and warm water. 

Apply the pre-treatment to the affected areas and let it sit for a few minutes before moving on to the next step.

Once you’ve pre-treated any problem areas, it’s time to start cleaning the rest of the shower. 

Begin by spraying the entire surface with a cleaning solution, such as a mixture of vinegar and water or a commercial cleaner. 

Next, use a scrub brush or sponge to scrub away any dirt, grime, or soap scum. Be sure to pay extra attention to the corners and crevices where buildup can accumulate. 

Scrub the Walls and Floor.

Once you’ve pre-treated any problem areas, it’s time to start scrubbing the walls and floor of your shower. 

Use a scrub brush or sponge and a cleaning solution to tackle any dirt, grime, or soap scum that has built up. Be sure to pay special attention to corners, edges, and any areas where water tends to pool. 

Rinse the walls and floor thoroughly with warm water to remove any remaining cleaning solution. If you have stubborn stains that won’t come out, you may need to repeat the pre-treatment and scrubbing steps a few times until the area is clean.

Clean the Showerhead and Faucets.

Don't forget to clean the showerhead and faucets to complete your sparkling shower routine. 

Use a mixture of equal parts water and white vinegar to soak the showerhead and faucets for at least 30 minutes. 

Then, use a soft-bristled brush to scrub away any buildup or mineral deposits. Rinse thoroughly with warm water and dry with a clean cloth. Your showerhead and faucets will look as good as new!

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