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oneforthemunny · 23 days

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I’m loving these blurbs girl!! Can I request something for my favorite cowboy where sweet girl tries to convince Eddie that she doesn’t need his help with everything around the house because she’s a strong independent woman! (even though he spoils her rotten and makes sure she doesn’t have to lift a finger 😂) love you!! 🩵

this is so sweet girl of her omfg. a little bratty and moody and she takes it out on him like that, then he turns around and just watches until she has to ask lmaooo. spoiler- that's how this blurb is gonna go haha. slight dom/sub undertones but no actual smut.

"Don't lift that." Eddie's gruff tone calls from behind you. The sound made your skin crawl, shoulders tensing with annoyance. "I'll get that. Just leave it."

"Oh, no," You snapped back sarcastically, teeth grit in agitation. "I'll get it."

It was silly, childish even, you knew that. The argument was just that, silly. You'd gone out to see Eddie, trying to coax him inside to eat lunch with you, stop working and give you a little attention.

"I gotta finish this, honey."

"You could finish it later. Please? Come eat inside with me."

"You know I gotta get this done."

"But you can't do it later?"

"No, I got other things to do."

"You always have something to do."

"Yeah? I sure do. Maybe if you helped me instead of poutin' all the time, it'd get done quicker."

You knew he was teasing, from his snarky, sing-song tone and curling of his lips. But it infuriated you, rubbed you all the wrong ways.

So, determined and furious, you slipped your little rubber work boots on and some extra gloves that were a bit too big for you, opting to help Eddie with his chores.

"Quit that." Eddie clicked, tossing the hay bale in the corner with a soft grunt. "You're gonna get yourself hurt, now, just let me do that."

"No," You snapped, blocking his hands that tried to take the small hay bale away from you. "You say I never help you, so I'll do it. I got it."

"That's too heavy for you. You're gonna hurt yourself-"

"-No," You sneered, teeth grit, gloved hands slipping under the rope that held the hay in place. "I won't. I got it. I don't need your help."

Eddie paused. For a moment, he contemplated catching you by your chin, making you apologize, but he knew you'd probably like that- that it was what you wanted. Instead, he crossed his arms, standing back to watch you.

"Alright," He nodded coolly. "Go on."

You shimmied your hands under the straps just like you'd seen Eddie do before, bending your knees, before you tried to pull up, only to drop it right back on the barn floor with winded grunt. Why the fuck did hay weigh that much? It's fucking straw?

Eddie smirked in the corner, watching you try over and over and over, shuffling a few steps before dropping it right back down, winding yourself.

You looked over your shoulder sheepishly, eyes cutting to see him there, a silent pleading in your eyes. Eddie shrugged. "You said you could do it. Go on then. Move it for me."

Mean, oh, he was being so mean today. You pouted, huffing with a petulant fury. You tried again, and again, and one more time until your back felt like it might snap.

"Ok," You grumbled, dropping the bale with a final grunt of failure. "I can't do that one, but I can do something else."

"No, you told me you could move that one." Eddie shook his head. "What? 'S just supposed to stay there?"

"No," You hissed, eyes narrowing in annoyance, embarrassment. "You can just move it over there, and I'll do something else-"

"-Me?" Eddie jabbed a gloved finger to his chest, voice lifting with that arrogant teasing tone he loved to mock you with. "Now how's that fair? You told me you can move it, and now you're just gonna demand I move it? Thought you were helpin' me."

"I am." It came out more like a bratty whine than a statement. "I just can't move that one."

"So you want me to move it then, hm?" Eddie lifted a brow, lips twitching to hide his grin when you huffed and gave a curt nod. "Fine, but you better ask me. Better ask me reallll nice and I just might."

"Seriously?" You snapped, tongue clicking in annoyance.

"Yes. C'mon now, baby, you told me you were gonna move this, and now you can't? That's really settin' me back." Eddie shrugged. "Least you could do it gimme a pretty please?"

Your cheeks burned. For a second, you contemplated telling him to fuck off, stomping back to the house- but you knew the stubborn bastard would stay out there all fucking night if he had to, stand out there and leave it until you came out and asked. Might as well do it now, get it over with so maybe he'd get a little soft with you, give in and come inside and eat with you.

"Fine." You gritted with a nasally huff. "Eddie will you please-"

"-eh," Eddie lifted a finger. "What're you 'sposed to say?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, jaw setting in irritation. He was just trying to embarrass you now, get you riled up and whiny. "Will you pretty please move the hay for me?"

Eddie smirked, pushing off the wooden wall, hands sliding under the hay bales and lifting it with a soft grunt, walking it towards the stables with the others. "Now was that so hard?" He quipped, hands dusting the other off.

You rolled your eyes, turning with a huff. "Why don't you try askin' me nice like that to come inside with you, hm?" Eddie hummed.

You turned just enough to give him a pout, one you knew had him buzzing with excitement, eyes widening and grin widening, a sure sign that you were close to getting what you wanted, you always did.

"Eddie, will you pretty, pretty please come inside and have lunch with me?" It was a little more sarcastic than what he would have liked, but he relented, tossing his gloves to the side, following you into the house, opening the screen door for you, smacking your ass playfully just to hear you squeal when you slipped inside.

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hometoursandotherstuff · 5 months

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Interesting 1994 home is in the Jemez Forest in Jemez Springs, New Mexico. It is made of straw bale construction and a metal roof. The style is rustic industrial and includes a guest house and horse stable. 3bds, 3ba, $999K.

The first thing I noticed was the unique cement floor.

In the living room the fireplace looks like a vintage stone style that's been here for ages.

Ceilings throughout the home are corrugated aluminum with beams and 3/4 height walls.

The main living area consists of a kitchen, dining space and family room.

I didn't expect to see a $35,000 Aga stove in here.

There's a very large table built onto the kitchen island, but there's also a separate dining area.

Off the kitchen is nice big pantry.

The home has a 2nd level with a pretty wooden ceiling and 2 large asymmetrical columns.

This could be the primary bedroom with a seating area, plus access to the yard.

This is a large walk-in closet.

The en-suite is also very big.

Upstairs are the other rooms.

There are 2 quite spacious children's rooms up here. I really don't care much for the corrugated ceilings throughout the entire home.

Then downstairs there's a semi-finished basement.

The guest house is a log cabin style.

It looks nice, but it's not being used a residence. As you can see, it's s storage space.

If this is the horse barn, it needs work.

I wonder if the sheep convey.

A narrow stream runs through the property.

And, home is on 29 acres of land.

#unusual homes #rustic homes #houes #house tours #home tour

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kisskiss-slashslash · 9 months

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Slashers getting ready to attack a victim and the victim is just like “hey” as they pass through their hiding spot they thought was really clever

Srry if you don’t understand it🙈

I think I understood it. If not, feel free to correct me XD

Slashers when they pass through the victim’s hiding place in search of them

Jason Voorhees

You are hidden in a closet. Not your own, but one of the other camp counselors’ closets, stuffed to the brim with clothes for the summer ahead. At arrival, you wondered why anyone would bring that many clothes for a short summer job. Especially a short summer job that required a uniform. But now, it proved to be a blessing in disguise. You nestle yourself in between the mass of shirts and tops, hoping they would conceal you well enough.

The door to the room opens with a dramatic creak, and heavy footsteps echo in the unnatural silence. Wood crashes on wood, exploding in a shower of splinters, when the killer violently flips over the bed. Finding the space underneath empty, he moves on.

There is only one other place in this room where you could possibly hide. Your breath hitches in your throat, right before the closet door is ripped upen.

The clothes are unfortunately not enough. You come face to face with him, and all you can get out is an awkward “Uh. Hi.”

Vincent Sinclair

You are crammed under the desk in the late Dr. Sinclair’s study, pressing your hand against your mouth in hopes of muffling your panicked breathing. In the living room, you hear Bo talk to Vincent.

“They have to be somewhere in the house. Go get them; I’ll go after the others.”

The front door opens and closes, and footsteps begin wandering around the house. When they become quieter, you dare breathe a soft sigh of relief, hoping that you could climb out the window while the killer was on the other side of the house. That plan falls apart when a ghostly white mask, framed by long, dark hair suddenly peeks at you from the top of the desk.

You can do nothing but give him a defeated wave.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy always knows where you are; of course he does. He only plays this little game of hide and seek with you because he enjoys how your breath hitches every time he comes close to your hiding spot. Sometimes he even looks inside, says “Peekaboo” and then disappears again. You will never know when he will actually strike, or if he will strike tonight at all. Honestly, it’s been a while since he had this much fun with a victim.

Brahms Heelshire

You thought the attic would be a good hiding place. While Brahms looks for you downstairs, you plan to escape by climbing down the wall.

However, Brahms knows the house much better than you, and he can hear you. And now you hear him clambering up the attic stairs, calling for you in his child-voice. You quickly bury yourself in a pile of old carpets, but when he finally breaks through the trap door, he isn’t fooled for even a second. He rips the rolled up carpets aside and proudly exclaims:”Found you!”

Bubba Sawyer

The door is locked, and the house is fairly small. You have no idea how to escape. Maybe you could hide while Leatherface is busy with one of your travelling companions?

Your first thought is the chicken room. If you cover yourself with the straw bedding, nobody would notice; they’d thing you were just a pile of straw. You just barely manage to cover yourself up until Bubba enters the room, obviously distressed at having lost a victim. He sits down heavily on a bale of hay and looks out the window. He looks around the room, and then notices the pile that hides you. Knits his brows in confusion, and wipes some of the straw inside.

He looks even more confused when he is met by your terrified eyes. You flash him a panicked grin.

#slasher x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #freddy krueger x reader

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depressedstressedlemonzest · 7 months

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Hay It's Getting Cold Out

“The fuck?” Ian’s words stumbled from his lips as he walked into the apartment to find straw littering all over the kitchen floor.

Mickey’s head peeked up from behind the kitchen island and he ducked back down.

“Mickey why does our apartment look like a barn?” Ian walked over to the kitchen island and found Mickey on his knees surrounded by straw and plastic storage bins.

“I’ll clean it up.” Mickey muttered as he picked a knife up and jammed it into the bin, sawing a square into it before punching it through.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked trying not to sound accusatory but not being sure if he was succeeding.

Mickey paused and looked up at Ian, “It’s getting cold out, it's going to get colder this weekend, like below twenty degrees out.”

Ian raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, and we live in Chicago, this happens a lot in the fall and winter.”

“Well, I wanted to do something for Clawdia, but everything I was looking at was super expensive. But then I found this do it yourself thing and it would only cost about ten bucks.”

“Claudia?”

Mickey grimaced, “Clawdia, the cat that has the missing leg that hangs out around the pool in the summer.”

“You named her Clawdia?”

Mickey groaned, “Yes I named her, yes I’ve been feeding her, and no I don’t want her to get cold this winter, so I’m making her this cat house. But when I went to ordered the straw to get delivered I thought a bale was only like a pound or two, turns out it’s a fuckton. So I’m making more than one for any of Clawdia’s friends that get cold this winter and want a nice warm box.”

Ian felt his lips curve up in a smile, “That’s so s-”

“Fuck off Gallagher.” Mickey huffed sinking back down to keep sawing at the plastic bin.

“You know if you wanted a cat-”

Mickey groaned, “Fuck OFF.”

Ian looked at the mess and shook his head, he went to the bedroom and put his phone on the charger before digging into the closet and grabbing another knife from the closet.

He came back into the kitchen and sunk onto the floor across from Mickey.

Mickey eyed him as he grabbed another one of the storage bins and stabbed the knife into the side before sawing a line into it.

Ian glanced up at Mickey and grinned as he sawed the square out of the bin and punched it through.

Together they made six cat shelters, even with each one stuffed full of hay they still had a good amount left over.

“How about we go to the hardware store and get some wood? Make a big shelter for the rest of the hay?” Ian suggested when they finished sweeping and bagging the remainder of the straw up from the kitchen floor.

“I didn’t want to make it a big project.” Mickey sighed tying the bag up and shoving it aside.

“I know, but I’m sure we can budget it enough to make it work, besides what else would we use the hay for?” Ian asked with a laugh.

Mickey smirked, “Well, there is that fantasy about doing it in the loft of a barn in the hay.”

Ian’s laugh slipped from his face and he looked at his husband sternly, “We are NOT putting that hay in our bed.”

Mickey laughed reaching up and cupping Ian’s face with his hands, “C’mon Carrot Farmer, you know you need to make sure the stable hand is doing the chores.”

Ian let Mickey pull him into a kiss before gripping his wrists gently, “No way. Now let’s get these ones out to Clawdia before it does get cold out.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, “Spoil sport.”

“Well we couldn’t have done that at a better time.” Ian muttered as he looked at the picture Mickey had sent him.

Clawdia the three legged cat in one of the shelter boxes with four little puffy kittens around her.

“You know, that extra room we have would make a good nursery.” Mickey mused over the phone.

“No way.” Ian’s voice was firm, but when he looked at that photo again he felt his heart melting.

“Only Clawdia, and only her kittens. And once they’re all old enough we’re getting them all fixed.”

“Glad you’re agreeable because I already brought them inside. And since we still had that hay I took out the drawers of the dresser and put some in each.”

#based on the stray cats and the kittens outside my apartment #who we all just want to bring inside and shelter #and we're all sneak feeding them around the cameras that the landlord put out to catch us because he's a dick #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #gallavich fanfic #ian gallagher loves mickey milkovich #shameless #mickey milkovich loves ian gallagh

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ratinayellowbandana · 5 months

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having just come off a 10-hour bus i feel your boredom. prompts, mm, Imogen trying to explain why horses are so nice to Laudna (Gelvaan early days?) while Laudna plays with a barn cat?

thanks ever so much @xhopsalong for this lovely suggestion. sorry it took me a couple extra days to get around to it. I got out of the car and life immediately smacked in the face. I hope this is something like what you had in mind! I will take any excuse to bring up horse girl imogen

wc: 1358

~~~

Something was new to Laudna.

Not the hardpacked dirt floor or the rusted bolts holding thick support beams in place. Those seemed quite old if she had to guess. Not the distinct scent of hay and grain and manure that was embedded in the walls of this place. Not the cobwebs delicately spun in the rafters. No, the barn itself was well-used, though rather impressively maintained for its age.

Perhaps, then, it was the life that seemed to seep from the pores. The traces of human presence and domesticity that appeared in the saddle pads hung to dry on stall doors and the muddy boots stored beside the tack room. The unhurried shuffling of footsteps behind her. The muted thump of hooves on sawdust. The roof, newly repaired and still smelling of fresh wood.

Laudna sprawled on her back atop a bale of hay, limbs hanging limply off the ends. The straw stuck to her clothing, sharp and scratchy where the fabric was thinnest. Her long hair trailed on the ground, but she hardly minded. She kicked her feet idly, relishing the mild strain against the back of her knees and the swish of her skirt against her ankles. The world was pleasantly fuzzy, everything seen just a bit upside-down.

Twilight had just begun to fall, slanted beams of sunlight having just disappeared below the loft window. Long shadows crept from the corners. Gentle orbs of glowing purple light held them off for the time being. The spheres of magic bobbed up and down slightly in the cooling evening air.

The crickets had just begun their evening serenade when a horse whickered in a neighboring stall, and Laudna startled at the sudden noise.

“He can’t get you,” Imogen teased in that light way of hers that instilled in Laudna a reverent desire to believe every word she spoke.

Perhaps it was this, then, the new thing. A new friend. Her first in, well, she couldn’t quite recall, fuzzy as things are, but that was all right. Imogen was kind. She laughed with her belly and smiled with her whole face, and it warmed Laudna like a roaring hearth in the dead of winter. Imogen had one of those, too, in a house she shared with her father, and she let Laudna sit beside the fire and offered her tea and biscuits from a tin. She giggled at Laudna’s missteps and delighted at her stories, which was baffling. Laudna’s life wasn’t particularly interesting, but to Imogen, it seemed, half-baked tales of mushroom hunting were welcome interruptions to life in a rural town.

Imogen ran a loving hand along the blaze of a bay mare and pressed a kiss to her snout. The horse’s eyes closed, relaxed, and she sighed contently. Laudna tilted her head, hair sweeping the floor.

“You can say hello if you’d like,” Imogen said, “They won’t bite on purpose. Promise”

“On accident, then?”

“Only if they think your finger’s a carrot.” Imogen gave a lopsided grin.

Laudna inspected one long, gray appendage, eyes crossing as she dangled it over her face. She squinted. “I think I must be an awfully rotten carrot.”

Imogen laughed again in that easygoing manner that kicked Laudna’s sluggish heart into a flutter. Imogen blew a stray lock of purple hair off her nose and pouted when it resettled just above her lip. She went back to humming a quiet, jaunty tune Laudna did not recognize.

Something soft brushed against Laudna’s calf.

A fluffy orange cat appeared around the straw bale, tail held proudly aloft. It rubbed its side along the hay, arching its back.

Laudna froze as it approached. She eyed it warily.

The cat, for its part, seemed entirely unbothered, but one could never be too cautious. Most of the Wildmother’s creatures steered clear of her. The domestic and prey animals, especially. Something about the scent of decay tended to attract only the scavengers and carrion birds. A morning’s overconfidence had earned her a nasty bite to the wrist and a talon to the shoulder. She made more of an effort to sleep in a shelter, however crude, after that.

A small, wet nose investigated the inside of her wrist where it had been unceremoniously flopped. The tiny exhalations were cold against her skin, replaced by silky fur as the cat butted its head against her. Its tail trailed along her inner arm until an inquisitive, graying face met hers. Laudna sat up slowly, carefully swinging her legs around.

“I see you’ve met Lady,” Imogen said.

Two paws perched on the bale, chasing Laudna’s hand. Tentatively, she extended the back of one knuckle and gave two gentle strokes between the cat’s ears. It leaned into her touch, butting her hand in search of scritches.

“She’s darling,” Laudna said, a little breathlessly. She reached out again, bolder having been met with one success, and Lady arched into the pointed tips of her fingernails.

“He, actually,” Imogen corrected, shaking her head. Lady hopped up next to Laudna on all four paws, placing his front feet on her thigh. “The neighbor’s old cat had kittens a while back. We were told he was a girl when we adopted him. Only took our barn cat gettin’ pregnant to find out we were told wrong,” she chuckled quietly, “but the name stuck, and we love him, so. Isn’t that right?” Imogen cooed.

“He’s still darling.” Lady had taken up residency in Laudna’s lap, purring loudly. It was all rather peculiar. This warm, soft thing kneading her leg with pinprick claws. “I must admit,” she said, “I’m a little surprised.”

Imogen made an inquisitive noise.

“Animals tend not to like me much, I’m afraid. At least the ones who don’t want to eat me,” Laudna confessed softly, determinedly looking only at the rumbling creature in her lap.

“Lady and the horses seem to like you just fine.” Imogen paused her deft fingers where they had been working at a knot in the horse’s mane.

“I suppose so,” Laudna said, scratching one nail at the base of Lady’s ear. “I’m not entirely certain why that is.”

“Well,” Imogen considered, “could be simple as they trust me, and I trust you. And if I trust you, they know it’s safe.”

Laudna felt the color rise in her cheeks and redoubled her efforts to focus on her feline companion.

“Or,” Imogen continued easily, “it just might be because they know you’re a person worth likin’.” She resumed her untangling with her lower lip clasped between her teeth.

Laudna’s rhythmic petting faltered. “That’s… that’s very nice of you to say.”

“‘M not just sayin’ it,” Imogen sounded almost affronted. “You’re one of the most likable people I’ve ever met.”

Laudna’s head swam. She looked up at Imogen. “I… We’ve only known each other a few weeks.” The corner of Imogen’s mouth curved upward into a playful smirk, and she raised her eyebrows.

“My impressions of people are rarely wrong.” She tapped her temple, and Laudna flushed further.

Perhaps it was this, then, the new thing. Being known. Trusted. And, oh, that felt… well, felt like the weight of a creature, alive, warming her lap. Smelled like hay and grain and manure and, faintly, of ozone. It looked like straw clinging to her clothing and dancing lights and a horse lazily hanging its head over the stall door. Sounded like a rumbling purr that filled her whole chest and crickets in the evening and worn leather boots.

Surely, that must be it. Not merely passing life, lurking at its fringes, but embracing it and having it embrace her in return. It was lovely, this new thing. Strange and foreign but familiar in the way one might recall a hazy childhood memory with forgotten fondness. Or come across an old favorite blouse packed away in a trunk.

Laudna savored the feeling, the sensation that had made a home in her ribs, and she whispered a silent prayer that this might last. That the world might keep at bay just a little while longer.

And as the sun sank fully below the horizon, Laudna reveled in the unexpected wonder of this newfound peace.

#horse girl imogen temult is something that can actually be so personal #thank you so much for sending this in! I had fun :)#I love these little fics because its always just vibes #critical role #imodna #imogen temult #laudna #my fic #imodna fanfic #critical role fanfiction #cr3 #prompt fill #xhopsalong #ask

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shipskicksandgiggles · 8 months

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click here to read Fight, Flight, Freeze, Fall in Love on ao3

It was no secret that Halloween was Eddie’s favorite time of year.

Yeah, sure, it makes it easier to be a freak this time of year because everyone’s a freak on Halloween, but that wasn’t why he loved it.

Eddie has always been, first and foremost, a theater kid. Which meant that his costumes and decorations were always over the top and incredible.

Plus Gareth had gotten them involved in a Haunted House a few years back because he owed someone a favor, and Eddie had gone back every year since.

Being a scare actor was a lot of fun. Picking a new fear to embody every year gave him the opportunity to explore new characters and play around with personality traits he wouldn’t ordinarily show off.

Case in point, this year he was donning a scarecrow mask. It was pretty realistic too, and if he stayed still enough, guests wouldn't notice him until it was too late.

He tested it on Jeff before they opened just to be sure, and Jeff would swear up and down that he didn’t scream like a toddler, but Eddie knew the truth.

His costume wasn’t unlike that of a scarecrow’s typical garb. Eddie had borrowed an old plaid shirt of Wayne’s and found pants loose enough to give the illusion there was stuffing in them. He’d found a straw hat and vest at a garage sale over the summer, and his work boots would work just fine.

The only complication was the weapon. An ax would be easy enough, but he wanted something that would really drive home the theme of freaky farm ornament he was going for.

He ended up finding a wooden scythe at a craft store in Indy that he was able to modify for this exact purpose.

His costume was complete.

The barn they held it in was set up over the next couple of weeks, and they were able to run it through with some of the understudies before they opened it to the public. Eddie was about two-thirds of the way through, and was having the best time figuring out how to lay just so people would think he was a real scarecrow, and not a person waiting to scare them.

It worked best if he was draped backwards over a few bales of hay. His arms hung loosely, but one hand was sure to be poised over the scythe so he could grab it and roll upwards to chase after whoever came through.

He tested it on Jeff again, who this time admitted to screaming like a child.

Everything was perfect.

Once the crowds started to flock to the haunted house, it was the same as it was every year.

Eddie was always able to pick out the different kinds of people that went to haunted houses.

There were the seasoned veterans, the people who came year after year, searching for the thrill of being scared. Sometimes Eddie even recognized people from the years prior.

Right up alongside them in Eddie’s favorite customers list were the kids. Usually between the ages of 8-12 where they pretended to not be scared, even if they were. He’d always tone down his act for them, but it was still cute to see them and their costumes.

Then there were the couples. The boyfriends who showed up with their girlfriends under the guise of protecting them, using it as an excuse to cop a feel. It was fun to get all up in the guys faces when his character allowed for it, plus it usually got a laugh out of the girls too.

There were usually a few odd stragglers too, random people who stopped by that Eddie couldn’t always get a read on, but that wasn’t his job. He just had to scare them.

One part of his job that wasn’t technically required, although he would argue otherwise, was playing a game he liked to call ‘Fight, Flight, or Freeze’. Basically, he’d predict which approach people would take to being spooked.

Flight and freeze were the most common, but occasionally he’d get a fighter, and he really didn’t want another bloody nose.

Sometimes he got groups that kept him guessing though. Those were his favorites.

Case in point, a trio. Eddie couldn’t figure out what their specific dynamic was, if it was a couple and a sibling, a group of friends, or if there was something else going on there, but regardless it was a guy and two girls.

This could go one of three ways:

The guy pretends to be macho for the ladies and either pisses himself or decks Eddie,

The short girl punches him because she looks scary and more apt to punch him than the guy, or

They all just run.

Eddie’s money was on 3, but he wasn’t ruling out 2 just yet.

What he didn’t expect was for it to be none of those possibilities.

The door out of his room pushed people into a fork in the road.

Go right, continue on with the house.

Go left? Dead end.

It was actually an emergency exit, but they’d managed to prevent people from mistaking it for the main path thanks to some cleverly placed decorations.

So when Eddie dragged himself up from his position and gave this group a spook, he figured he’d guessed correctly as they ran, and he chased them to that fork.

Which is exactly when things went sideways.

Upon encountering the fork, the group did the unexpected: they split up.

The guy went left while the girls went right.

Eddie also went left for two primary reasons. First, to direct the guy back to the correct door, and second, that short girl really was scary. He liked his chances with the guy.

A moment later he came up behind the guy who was discovering very quickly that he wasn’t going to be able to escape that way. He kept his back to the door as Eddie approached.

He heard him swear under his breath and watched as his eyes darted around the room. Planning an escape route.

Eddie held up the scythe, ready to swing at the guy, but as he went to do so, found that he was unable to.

The guy caught his wrist and spun them so it was Eddie pinned against the door. He used the hand not holding him to push up his mask. Then, he leaned in.

His lips were soft. He tasted like apple cider.

And then as soon as it happened, he was gone. Sprinting back out the way he came, yelling for his friends like it was a game of Marco Polo.

Eddie was still frozen where the guy had pinned him. That wasn’t how people typically reacted to being cornered.

He heard a door open, and someone grabbed the back of his collar before pulling him through the emergency exit.

Gareth.

“Dude, what the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie cried, yanking his mask off the rest of the way. “He just kissed me!”

“Dear god. That’s your sign from the universe to go take your break. Go smoke somewhere the crowds won’t see you and have your little freak out in peace.”

He loved that man so much. “Thank you.”

Gareth waved him off. “I don’t want to hear about him later either, by the way!”

Eddie laughed as he slipped out to the back of the barn. They didn’t route guests out this way, so he figured he was good to chill out for a few minutes.

Except just as he lit a cigarette, he heard voices.

“I don’t know, Robin, I was just trying to get out of there to find you.”

“At no point did it need to involve your faces being smushed together.”

Oh no.

“I don’t know,” a new voice chimed in. “I’ve seen him in a relationship and in a fight. Sometimes when you push someone against a wall, your signals get mixed up.”

“So he accidentally socks his partner or kisses his opponent. Sure, I’ll buy that,” the voice he’d determined was Robin said.

“Stop it, both of you,” the guy said. “Go get in line for donuts or something, I’m going to go try to find a staff member to pass along an apology for me. What was their costume again?”

“God, you made out with them and you don’t remember their costume?”

“Scarecrow, I think,” the other girl answered. “Try out back, someone might be taking their break.”

Shit, shit, shit.

“Thanks Nance, I owe you one. I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

There was the sound of footsteps, and Eddie briefly thought of bolting, but where was the sense in that? Instead, he took another drag and hoped the guy wouldn’t see him.

Of course, he was never that lucky.

“Hey, do you work here?”

Eddie exhaled. “Depends on who’s asking.”

“Listen, this is going to sound insane, but do you know the person dressed as a scarecrow? Maybe has one of those curved sword things?”

“A scythe,” he corrected without thinking.

“Yeah that.”

“Any chance he looked like this?” Eddie held up his mask so the guy could see. It was dark, but the lights from the front of the barn should have been enough to illuminate it.

“Oh shit,” the guy said.

“Yep.”

“I am so sorry.”

“No hard feelings. It’s not exactly the worst way someone's reacted to me scaring them. Honestly, it’s up there with one of the best.” Eddie wanted to scream. Why did he say that?

“Really?”

“Yeah, well when most guys would punch me in the face, I’m not going to complain about something that’s not that.”

“That certainly would hurt. One of the best, though?”

He shrugged. “It was a good kiss, and certainly memorable in terms of reactions. You’re going to give a guy a complex.”

“I see.”

“Like I said, I’m not complaining.” The guy didn’t move, seemingly stuck on a thought, so Eddie spoke up again. “Want a smoke?”

“I just came back here to apologize, and anyways, I’m trying to quit.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Maybe just a drag.”

Eddie handed him the one he’d just lit, and tried not to overthink it. Their mouths had touched, and yet he was focused on the indirect trade of spit over a cigarette filter.

“Thanks. I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Eddie,” he responded, taking his cigarette back.

“Nice to officially meet you. Usually I try to learn people’s names before I kiss them.”

“Well, you know it now.”

“I also prefer to get the numbers of the people I’d be interested in kissing again.”

Gareth was never going to let him live this down if he didn’t kill Eddie first.

“Do you have your phone on you, or a scrap of paper maybe?”

“Sure.” Steve produced his phone from a pocket, and opened his contacts so Eddie could enter his number.

“Just so you know, I don’t make a habit of giving customers my number.”

“Good.”

“Also, I get off at 11, and there’s a late night diner down the road I always stop at for coffee.”

“Great. I’ll see you at 11:15 then?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then. I have to get back though.”

“Of course, I should probably go find my friends anyway. One last thing before I go, though.”

“What’s that?”

Steve stooped down and kissed him, softer this time, and Eddie wasn’t so shocked that he couldn’t enjoy it.

As he pulled away, he could feel the giddy smile on his face. “See you around, Steve.”

“Bye Eds.” He waved goodbye, and Eddie stood, letting himself bask in the moment for a bit longer until the door behind him opened, an echo of his first kiss with Steve.

Gareth gave him another unimpressed glare. “Dude.”

Eddie waved him off. “You’re going to hear about him.”

“I hate you so much, oh my god.”

#ellis writes #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #fluff #flirting #getting together #haunted houses #eddie is a scare actor #this was just a fun thing I wrote

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lionlena · 23 days

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Headcanon: What does Jack's ranch look like? 🤠🐴🐓🐮🧑‍🌾

First of all, it is well secured. It has security cameras, gates that open only with a special code, and an alarm system. The windows in the house are bulletproof. The house also has a well-equipped basement in case a tornado hits. But it can also be used as a safe room because it has its own air conditioning, a place to sleep, and food supplies.

All this, of course, is to keep his Sugar, you, safe.

Jack knows the world is dangerous. And when he's on a mission, he wants to make sure you're safe.

There are, of course, animals at Jack's ranch. Jack loves animals, especially horses.

Therefore, in a large spacious stable, there are several horses on which Jack rides. And of course, if you also love horses, Jack will buy a horse, especially for you.

There is also room for the two of you in the stable in the attic. There is a blanket and pillows between the straw bales.

Jack loves laying there with you. Sometimes you end up naked and sweaty... But that doesn't always happen. Sometimes you just lie there (usually with your head on his chest), talk, and enjoy the smell of hay and the snorting of horses.

Apart from horses, there are also other animals. Dogs, cats, chickens, goats…

Jack takes care of all his animals. He would not allow anyone to suffer or starve. Each animal has its own warm place to sleep.

Jack's house, of course, resembles a typical cowboy's house. It is large, with a porch surrounded by a white picket fence. Of course, Jack will hang an American flag and hang a horseshoe above the door.

Inside the house is very neat. Jack doesn't like keeping unnecessary things and decorations. Of course, bull horns are hanging on the wall, and a cowhide rug by the fireplace, but other than that Jack doesn't pay much attention to decorations.

Of course, this can change thanks to you. Colorful pillows, a vase of flowers, photos of you together... Jack will complain and say it's unnecessary, but deep inside he will be happy that his home is becoming cozier and he can see your hand in it.

Jack likes luxury. There is a mini cinema in his house so you don't have to go anywhere. Besides, in his mini cinema, he doesn't have to worry about anything. If the movie is too boring, his hand will start caressing your thigh, moving higher and higher...

And suddenly he will be kneeling between your legs and you won't be able to focus on the movie

He also has his own jacuzzi and Jack loves it when you go in there naked...

Jack's ranch is surrounded by green meadows where you often have picnics.

There's also a river that Jack loves to take you to. There's a good chance he'll propose to you there.

Life is slow and happy on Jack's ranch, and you don't worry about anything.

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #jack daniels #agent whiskey #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels and you #agent whiskey fanfiction #kingsman the golden circle #pedro pascal characters #fluff #jack daniels is so sweet #jack daniels headcanon #agent whiskey headcanon

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whumpster-fire · 7 months

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The (N+1) Little Pigs

Where N is a comically large number.

From: Fairy Tales To Tell Other People's Children To Get Out Of Being Asked to Babysit In the Future: An Anthology

Once Upon A Time, there were (N+1) little pigs, who lived in a house with their mother. One day, their mother kicked them out to seek their fortunes in the world, because they were unemployed losers who turned their rooms into pigsties.

The First Little Pig saw a farmer selling bales of straw. "Aha!" he thought, "That looks like the perfect material to build a house for the minimum amount of effort!" He told his brothers this. They all looked at him like he was an idiot.

"A straw house is easy to build, but it's also easy to tear down!" said the Third Little Pig. "What if a wolf comes?" He started to show his brother studies about the maximum wind loads of straw houses, but the First Little Pig wasn't listening.

"Wolves are a hoax," said the First Little Pig. He bought the straw anyway, and built a rather ramshackle house.

The Second Little Pig laughed at the first little pig's foolishness, but when he saw a woodcutter selling sticks, he thought: "I want a big house, but I don't want to waste too much time building it. These will be perfect."

The Third Little Pig saw a bricklayer selling bricks, and thought: "These will make the strongest house possible. I'd like to see a wolf break into this!"

Soon, the Big Bad Wolf came along. He saw the houses the pigs had built, and he came up with a plan. He knocked on the door of the First Little Pig's straw house.

"Good Morning," he said to the First Little Pig. "Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior -"

"Go away, I'm playing Minecraft!" shouted the First Little Pig, and slammed the door in the Big Bad Wolf's face. So the Big Bad Wolf thought of a better plan.

"Hi, I'm installing Rooftop Solar, do you have a moment to talk about -"

"Go away."

So the Big Bad Wolf thought of a better plan.

"We've been trying to reach you concerning your car's extended warranty -"

"Die in a fire, Big Bad Bitch."

So the Big Bad Wolf thought of a better plan. He knocked on the door one more time.

"Little Pig, Little Pig, let me come in!"

"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

The Big Bad Wolf peered in the window, and decided the hair on the pig's chinny chin chin wasn't much of a threat. It was kind of unimpressive actually. A neckbeard, even.

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!"

Then the Big Bad Wolf huffed, and puffed, and blew the straw house to pieces, and that was the end of the First Little Pig.

He moved on to the Second Little Pig's house, and repeated the process, only without the several ineffective scams. He went straight to the threats and demands, which is an admirable quality in a villain.

"Little Pig, Little Pig, let me come in!"

"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

"Then I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!"

Then the Big Bad Wolf huffed, and puffed, and blew the stick house to splinters, and that was the end of the Second Little Pig.

The Third Little Pig watched his brothers' demise from his brick house, and made a smug FaceBook post about inferior construction methods. When he heard a knock on his door, he said without even waiting for the wolf to speak: "Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

"Uhh, this is your neighbor Bob. I just wanted to check in and see if you're okay, I saw on NextDoor there were two houses blown in by a wolf, and my neighbor Dale said both the victims were pigs, so it seems like there's a pattern."

"Oh. Sorry," said the pig. "Don't worry about me, I've got the strongest house in the whole town!" and he patted the brick walls.

Bob the Neighbor left, and the Big Bad Wolf came along.

"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

"Aww, come on, man, you didn't even give me a chance to knock!"

"This story's getting too long."

"Fair. Ahem… I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in!"

The Third Little Pig waited smugly in his armchair, waiting for the wolf to tire himself out. But what he didn't realize was that his attic windows had blown in. The Third Little Pig had built his house with a gable style roof for aesthetic reasons, and he had neglected to install hurricane ties as required by building codes in many areas prone to high wind disasters. With wind blowing inside the attic and over the roof, it acted just like a wing! The whole roof lifted off the house and blew away, and without the structural support, even the sturdy brick walls collapsed, crushing the Third Little Pig armchair and all.

The Fourth Little Pig built his house out of stone, with structurally adequate roof design. The wolf huffed and puffed with all his might, but the house just wouldn't budge!

So the Big Bad Wolf waited for the Fourth Little Pig to leave the house. After a few days, this little piggy went to market, when this little piggy should have stayed home. But this little piggy had to buy roast beef, because this little piggy had none. This little piggy saw a familiar shape in the parking lot, and cried WEEE WEEE WEEE WEEE, half of the way home. Not all the way home, because he only got halfway there before the Big Bad Wolf caught him and ate him.

The Fifth Little Pig purchased a 7500 sq ft McMansion in a gated community. But the house soon began to fall apart due to its subpar construction, and the Little Pig lost all his money in the subprime mortage crisis. The bank foreclosed on him, and threw him out in the streets, where the Big Bad Wolf had an easy meal.

The Sixth Little Pig built a sturdy wooden house: not a flimsy stick one, but solid timber framing. The wolf huffed and he puffed, but he could not blow the house in. Instead, he poured gasoline all over the exterior walls of the house and lit a match. The house caught fire, and turned the Sixth Little Pig into fried bacon.

The Seventh Little Pig built another stone house, and a very nice one it was. In fact, it was a castle. But he'd built it on a swamp, so his castle sank into the swamp. So he built another castle. That one sank into the swamp. So he built a third one. That one burned down, fell over, then sank into the swamp, but the fourth one stayed up! And that's what the Seventh Little Pig's son inherited: the strongest castle in all of Pigland. However, when Wolfram the Conqueror invaded in 1066 AD, the Seventh Little Pig's castle proved incapable of withstanding the ferocious assault of the Warwolf Trebuchet. The Seventh Little Pig tried to surrender before the monstrous siege engine was even completed, but the Big Bad Wolf just laughed, and said there was no way he was going to all that effort to build such a large trebuchet and not use it. Soon the castle lay in ruins, and the Noble House of the Seventh Little Pig was broken.

The Eighth Little Pig built his house out of reinforced concrete. "I'd like to see you huff and puff this house down!" he boasted. "And I've got enough supplies in here to last for two years!"

But the Big Bad Wolf knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy, and the guy who a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy knew a guy who knew was an armadillo who worked in the demolitions industry. The armadillo set up several very large explosive charges all around the fourth pig's house.

"Little Pig, Little Pig, let me come in!" said the Big Bad Wolf.

"Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin!"

The armadillo laughed, and said: "Then Fire In the Hole! I'll blow your house in!"

With an almighty BANG! that stone house went away, And what happened to the pig isn't pleasant to say. The locals claim porkchops and cutlets rained down On Roofs, streets and sidewalks for three blocks around And windows were broken all over the town.

A-hem! Enough rhyming, back to the story.

The Ninth Little Pig didn't build a house at all. He just wasn't into it, man. Building houses meant being part of the system! He crashed on other people's couches and smoked weed all day. One day there was a knock at the door.

"Hey, man! Wanna buy some weed?" asked the Big Bad Wolf, who was wearing a clever disguise: he had a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a t-shirt that said "420." The Ninth Little Pig stared at him through bloodshot eyes. He scratched the hairs on his chinny chin chin. "Sure, man. Totally radical." He let the wolf in. The wolf was planning to eat him, but the smell of weed was so overpowering that he immediately became high, and they talked about metaphysical philosophy for three hours. Sadly for the Ninth Little Pig, after that the wolf got the munchies and ate him. Due to the sheer quantity of The Devil's Lettuce the pig had partaken in, the Big Bad Wolf was tripping balls for several weeks.

The Tenth Little Pig decided to move to a faraway land where there were no wolves and build his house there. On his journey he came to a bridge, where a troll was waitin for passerby.

"Ha ha!" said the troll. "You must pay the troll toll! I will eat you, delicious pig!"

"Wait!" cried the Tenth Little Pig. "My big brother is coming, and he has a house made of sticks! Wouldn't you rather eat him instead?"

"What." Said the Troll, and there was a long, awkward silence. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I think this is the wrong fairy tale," said the pig.

"I agree," said the troll, and ate him, so the Big Bad Wolf lost this round.

Later, the Big Bad Wolf came to a train track, where he saw a speeding trolley heading towards a switch. On the track ahead were five little pigs tied to the train tracks, on the other track was a single little pig. By pulling a lever, the wolf could make the trolley switch to the other track, saving the five little pigs but dooming the single pig. The Big Bad Wolf didn't pull the lever and allowed the five little pigs to be run over, because he was a Big Bad Wolf and killing more pigs was a desirable result for him. The Mad Philosophy Professor who had tied the pigs to the tracks and sabotaged the trolley's brakes lost his funding due to the lack of conclusive results, which just goes to show the importance of sound experiment design.

The Seventeenth Little Pig holed up in his house and refused to leave. The wolf waited and waited, but as he was waiting, he saw a little girl in a red hood wandering through the woods with a picnic basket. The Big Bad Wolf decided to try to eat her instead, but that is a story for another time. The Seventeenth Little Pig seemed safe, but little did he know that a deadly swine flu pandemic was spreading throughout the community.

The Eighteenth Little Pig built a very grand and sturdy house of brick and stone, but it had large windows that were easy to break into. One night, a pack of four Big Bad Wolves broke into his house. "What the Devil?" cried the Eighteenth Little Pig as he grabbed his powdered wig and Kentucky Rifle. He huffed, and he puffed, and he blew a golfball sized hole through the first wolf, shooting him dead on the spot. He drew his pistol on the second wolf, but it missed him entirely because it was smoothbore and nailed the neighbor's dog. He had to resort to the cannon at the top of the stairs loaded with grapeshot. The grapeshot shredded two wolves in the blast, and the sound and extra shrapnel set off car alarms. The Eighteenth Little Pig fixed bayonets and charged the last terrified wolf, who bled out waiting for the police to arrive because triangular bayonet wounds are impossible to stitch up. "Ah," said the Eighteenth Little Pig, "Just as the Founding Sounder intended."

The Nineteenth Little Pig went to college to become a Marine Biologist. This had many benefits, including living on a research vessel far away from any Big Bad Wolves. Sharks, on the other hand, were a different matter.

The Twentieth Little Pig didn't build a house: he hid in a cave, where he survived on a diet of 10,000 spiders per day and never left. He survived the Big Bad Wolf, but he is an outlier and should not have been counted.

The End

#shitpost #overly elaborate shitpost #the three little pigs #parody #memes #monty python and the holy grail #trebuchets #structural engineering #nursery rhymes #mixed metaphors #the three billy goats gruff #trolley problem memes #there are many benefits to being a marine biologist #explosions #musket for home defense copypasta #Spiders Georg #I wrote this fever dream of a post on very little sleep

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mod2amaryllis · 8 months

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I'm waiting for this migraine to die so I'm gonna tell you guys about Marshall, the dog who made me quit. read on if you wanna learn about extended quarantine and why this job sucks sometimes and other times is the most rewarding thing on the planet, often for the same reasons lmao.

in 2021, the weight of covid was kinda crashing down. i heard this was the case for a lot of health workers. we switched into emergency mode throughout 2020 and powered through, then the rest of the world decided to try and "get back to normal" a year later, giving no regard to the people who'd been working like a speeding train with the brakes off all that time. i was losing it!!! add a few more hay bales to my back when we hired a new doc who was the most demanding dude I'd ever met (still is, but we've come to some understanding lol) and who decided to run me as ragged as possible the first day he was left to his own devices.

that was the day Marshall came in.

i didn't talk about this back then because the outcome of the case was uncertain and the details so specific, but here's the run down knowing that 2 years later, Marshall is living his best life. when he was a baby, too young to have received a rabies vaccine, his owners found a rabies positive bat in the house. the state vet will always recommend euthanasia in these situations, OR, if you can somehow find and afford the option, a 6 month quarantine. this was such a tragic situation the owners were willing to try to save him. my clinic happens to have a decent isolation ward that's rarely in use; we use it for infectious patients like parvo puppies, uri's that have to be hospitalized, etc. so my boss agreed to take him for those 6 months. but the owners' caveat was that if he wasn't mentally adjusting to isolation after a couple weeks, they would euthanize so as not to put him through it and leave him with lifelong behavior issues.

that day, when animal control brought Marshall in the middle of an insane rush, we were short staffed and already at the end of our ropes with this new doc. i was the only qualified person who could talk to the officer. i was the only person who could take him back to isolation. the act of putting a 12 week old puppy in a 4 x 4 run where i knew he would either spend 6 months untouched, or never see the outside again, broke me. last straw.

i was a mess, for the rest of that day and the rest of that weekend having to go in and take care of him, when it was too early for him to adjust so i was sure he wouldn't make it. I'd come home sobbing. eventually jose was just like, "this isn't worth it any more," and i sent in a two weeks notice. i'd come close to doing so many times in the previous 6 years but never pulled the trigger. it took a total meltdown. my managers responded with regret, but understanding.

i wish i could've just felt free and done with it but for those two weeks i was just uncertain. this job is so complicated. the benefits for my pets are enormous; it's my main social network; it's income; I'm good at it and it gives me purpose. it's just also hell on earth! with no pressure from anyone else one way or the other, by the end of two weeks I'd decided to instead try going part time. that's where I'm at 2 years later so guess it worked lol.

but! there was still Marshall. shortly after we took him, we also happened to get a call for the same situation on 2 cats, and decided to take them as well. 3 animals on a 6 month quarantine. very new and daunting for all of us.

that first weekend was hard, but slowly, Marshall figured things out. it was the least ideal situation imaginable and i was at rock bottom and so was he, but i had this moment of like.....ok. if he wants to make this work, I'm gonna do as right by him as possible. and of course all us techs were helping him (one of my road dog coworkers always opened so i referred to her as his "morning mom") but i in particular took a special interest in training and enrichment. it became a passion. i was working less, but i volunteered extra weekends so i could see him more.

he was so young he hadn't even done much basic command training, and the fact that i couldn't touch him at all was a challenge. i started with a clicker to signal I'd rolled a treat into his run, since i couldn't give it to him directly. over those months we went through the basics: sit, down, paw, touch, using a back scratcher for a hand. part of the worry was him getting enough exercise; we noticed that when he'd get agitated, he'd jump on the bars non stop. i was like hmm that might be our only option, so i made "up" a command. i'd basically run burpies for exercise, up-sit-down-sit-up. he was a fast learner, very attentive. seeing him keep his wits about him like that was straight up thrilling. he even "potty trained" himself, barking like crazy whenever he'd go to the bathroom so we'd know right away he needed the run cleaned.

in the ward, there are 2 runs and 3 kennels. i trained Marshall to go back and forth between runs so we could clean. we'd have his food waiting for him in the next run over so he could eat while we'd clean; at the midday switch, he'd have a doggie popsicle. he was such a smart dog i knew toys and treats alone weren't cutting it for enrichment, and i couldn't constantly train him when i still had to be doing the rest of my job.

i started having everyone save every single box and paper-packaging that came in. i'd unfold some boxes for "bedding," so he'd at least have something between him and the concrete (he'd chew and eat any blanket we tried giving him). the rest, i turned into puzzles. i put treats inside and closed them up. put big boxes on their side in his run so he could go in and out. crumpled up paper-packaging with treats mixed in for him to dig through. every day i'd turn one run into a box-toy paradise, let him in, clean the other, and by the time i was checking back in on him he was snoozing in a pile of destruction. success. when other techs wouldn't go to the same lengths, i'd stay late pre-making his boxes and telling people to just throw them in dammit. i also queued several ambient sound playlists, birdsong cityscapes etc, to play on the weekend days when he was alone for long periods.

the months went by like this. i learned more about training, enrichment, and most specifically quarantine than i ever had outside of my experiences with my own puppies. we fell into a routine. we straight up loved each other, he was part of my life. he'd been this horrible trigger and pretty much doubled my workload, but he got to live.

then there were the cats! they were a little easier than Marsh just because they were already adults so didn't have all this energy to wrangle. for them, daily cleaning of course, taking turns going into the 1 empty kennel where i'd have treats, catnip, and other "new" smells waiting for them. for enrichment i focused on reconfiguration. every 2-3 days i'd rearrange things in their kennels, with the big pieces being a litter box, a bed, and an upright sturdy box (so they could either be in it or on top of it, giving them one upper level). it was habitat tetris. we'd play with strings and use the back scratcher for pets. then about every week, i'd switch their kennels to slightly change their view AND traded beds to mingle scents. they were from the same household and we were worried there'd be difficulty re-bonding after not being in direct contact for so long. they also did very well by the end of 6 months aside from gaining a lot of weight (oops). i learned just as much from them, and would love to help anyone else who might struggle with needing to quarantine pets.

i've seen people posting for help about similar situations and just wanna scream from the rooftops: the beginning is very daunting and hopeless, but animals aren't like us!!!!!! they do the best with what they got!!!!! if you work hard and keep them clean and develop a routine it'll all work out!!!!! Marshall walked out of there at 6 months a normal happy puppy in desperate need of a haircut.

it's interesting because i've never interacted much with his owners. i don't think they know i'm the one who kept him from losing his mind in there, even though everyone else at the clinic does, and i'm weirdly ok with that. the other day he came in cuz the dummy ate a bunch of meds he wasn't supposed to; the doc brought him to the back and instantly, Marshall rushed right for me. he still remembers me in a good way. there's still love. it's like...one of the few patient relationships i've had that feels truly deeply personal. in retrospect i think he had a bigger hand in healing my relationship with this career and animals in general than i realized at the time.

so thanks for making me quit Marshall. i feel a lot better now.

(i don't have any pics of him from that time (tragic ssd card accident) but he was an overgrown doodle puppy so he looked like this.)

#vet med #vet tech #work stuff #m2a #I've always wanted to tell this story it had such an impact on me

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xamaxenta · 3 months

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god i LOOOVEEE feral animal asl its so true. they truly could not care less about "laws" or "public decency" whatever that is. the straw hats manage with just luffy but the whitebeards sometimes have to deal with TWO of them? at ONCE? theyre used to ace because sometimes pirates are just like that, pops has seen plenty of them and hes just happy to see that nasty stray cat finally come inside to relax and he simply counts the shredded furniture as a Personality Trait to keep the house interesting. but then sabo rolls up and everyone at first chuckles and says oh well at least one of them has manners. except. sabo is secretly 4 ravenous feral dogs wearing a top hat. sabo is polite until the food comes out when he starts snarling and snapping (he and ace start wrestling on the floor BITING each other for a single chicken wing) or when he gets the Predator Stare and anyone who crosses within view of it feels their hair stand completely on end. marco has no particularly strong feelings about sabo when they first meet aside from "ace loves him, hes probably a freak, and he looks ridiculous dressed like that (kinda cute)" except. sometimes ace and sabo make noises at each other that are so far from human language they sound like an entirely different species. he swore one time he saw ace come up and just Lick the side of sabos face, who bit his whole ear in return like they were discussing the weather. there is something Wrong with sabo for sure. but its not until he and ace are bickering at the table and thatch throws a spare chunk of raw meat trimmings at ace (because theyve learned ace can and will eat raw meat, even the fatty or gristly bits, and as much as marco insists its not good At All for his health, the crew likes feeding large and dangerous animals) and as soon as the meat hits the table both ace and sabo go perfevtly still for roughly half a second before SABO lunges forward and grabs it in his TEETH while ace starts pummeling him for it. the top hat goes flying, theres the sound of the galley bench screeching across the floor and boots and fingernails scrabbling across the wood and the Chief Of Staff of the Revolutionary Army runs, hissing, on all fucking fours, with a chunk of raw meat in his mouth up the rigging while ace quite literally snaps at his heels. theres distant snarling and growling. sounds of tearing fabric. screams of shock and horror from the crew on the deck. and it is in that moment marco comes to the devastating realization that he is unfortunately attracted to sabo, and that his taste in men simply cannot be salvaged

Sabo standing there all prim and proper, all neatly buttoned up and his accent has this crisp edge to it like a winters morning flinty with fresh snow or perhaps new parchment waiting to be scored by the writers pen

And then Ace shows up and the mask slips abruptly something wicked spills past the pleasantries and hes kinda like fangs bared growly in a way only animals get with each other

Everyone up until this point knows the basic history Ace loves this guy, Sabo to put it bluntly would die to protect Ace with his life, they share a childhood the jungle that fucking jungle, this means Sabos also a beast but what kind theyre hoping if Ace is anything to go by he would be the same

Except Sabo brings out a monster in Ace and clearly hes so much worse, the raw meat spectacle and then the poor crowsnest lookout scrambling down trembling cold sweat like what the fuck happened to those two?

Eventually they comeback down sabos clothes are in tatters and Ace is just naked lmao theyre blood smeared and everyone hopes its the meat but its wishful thinking because thats way too much blood for a fist sized piece of flank steak

Marco unfortunately realises he has a type

Sabo pins him with a baleful pale eyed stare, those freaky mismatched eyes of his locked the fuck on, someone whos blind in one eye really shouldnt have that sort of focus, Ace headbutts him nippy bitey for being ignored but

Follows Sabos gaze and smiles

#MAS #OHOHOH ANON #rubs my lil fly paws togethehehe #marco gets taken to monster pound town #but the funny part is its Ace and Sabo who are the beasts #and Marcos the zoan

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ititledit · 1 year

Text

YouTube swaps for @radblrthemeweeks

I watch YouTube when I want to have some downtime... And I like my YouTube to be fun.

I thought I would share some female YouTubers I've been enjoying recently, I'd love to hear other people's recommendations!

If you like Nick DiRamio or Mike's Mic, TV and film review/comedy videos try -

Jamie French

She reviews bad and nostalgic films, including skits where she green screens herself into scenes from the films. She points out production errors, lazy tropes and is pretty fun. The series started out being "movies and make up" but the make up is easy to ignore and as she's done more movie review videos she seems to be doing the on-screen make up less and less.

Recommended videos -

Sleepover is a dumpster fire

I think I found the worst dance movie of all time

Kierra loves TV

Kierra summarises and discusses characters and tropes in her favourite TV shows. Her channel is pretty new, only 7 months old, and while i don't watch her videos on family guy, in her other videos she has a great voice and interesting perspectives on early 2000s TV - I enjoy her videos on Gilmore girls and Sex and the City

Recommended videos -

One album wonders : label conflicts and the rise of streaming

Teairra Mari - the girl who was almost Rihanna

If you like Stuart Hicks or Architecture related videos try -

Belinda Carr

Belinda makes videos about architecture and modern building techniques and trends. I find her videos to be very informative, even if you're not that into architecture I recommend giving her a try!Recommended videos -

Bamboo Vs cork flooring - everything you need to know

How to build straw bale houses - pros and cons

If you like day in the life, spending challenges and solo travel try -

Clickfortaz

I love Taz's videos, she is silly, very honest and quite naïve. Her friendship with her childhood friend Moon is really lovely, but most of her videos are just Taz trying new things. She has talked a lot about her mental health and has published and performed her poetry.

Recommended videos -

I tried to bake a cake with no recipe

Living in a treehouse for 48 hours

If you like furniture restoration or carpentry like Blacktail Studio try

Transcend Furniture Gallery

Angie repairs, restores and up cycles furniture. The videos are informative but also very calm and satisfying and I really like her work!

Restoring table tops - stripping, sanding, staining, sealing

Do you like videos of model and miniature making like Thalasso Hobbyer? Try -

KaypeaCreations

Karen makes a lot of animals, mythical and real, and her methods and techniques are really interesting to watch.

Recommended videos -

I made a realistic mooshroom from Minecraft

#radblrthemeweek

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 1 year

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should jake and cassie get back together post-war?

Yes! And no. And yes. And no.

On the one hand, they're so sweet and gentle and respectful with each other. Jake trusts Cassie more than he trusts himself (#21). Cassie trusts Jake more than she trusts herself (#4). They bale hay and clean her barn and relax together in between missions (MM1, #4, #24, MM2, #16, etc.) to the point where Jake's already at Cassie's place helping her a solid 25% of the time the others show up for a meeting. Jake thinks Cassie is "compassionate, brilliant" (#16) and "a one-woman army" (#54). Cassie thinks Jake is "serious, but knows when to laugh" (#4) and prides herself on getting "one of his rare, slow smiles" out of him (#9). They have a lot of the same priorities — they're willing to mess around with morphing on occasion, but always keep their eyes on the planet-sized goals. They have a lot of the same weaknesses — they can't trade lives, even when that means risking a lot of people to save just one.

Cassie lies about "I need a pretzel" to pull Jake aside and give him a minute to come down from a bad morph, something she knows he can't do in front of the others (#16). Jake supports Cassie's decision to quit, and tells her he'll love her no matter what (#19) but is also pretty clear that he doesn't think the team can function without her (#41, #44). He trusts her to know what she's doing, even when she's pulling dumb crap like morphing rat to cheat on her homework (#9) or mass-freeing chimpanzees (#28) — which is more trust than he ever extends to Marco or Rachel. She trusts him to know what he's doing, even when he's doing risky stuff like pulling a partial retreat (#41) or sending Ax into the line of fire (#11) — which is more trust than Rachel or Tobias ever give.

On the other hand. I see why they break up. I really do. The mess with the morphing cube is just the straw that broke the camel; they're already growing apart well before then. And Jake's behavior after their breakup just goes to show Cassie made the right call by sacrificing their relationship for the war effort. He shuts Cassie out, talks over her, accuses her of betraying the team (#51), Freudian-slips into replacing her on the team with Toby and Eva (#53). Sure, he's got other stressors at the time, and he does apologize, but Cassie doesn't deserve that. And Cassie succeeds in building a whole life after the war — she goes back to school, starts working for the State department, gets a new boyfriend, becomes ambassador to the hork-bajir — whereas Jake's postwar plan consists of "hanging around my parents' house until I was 30" (#54). No offense to Jake, but Cassie could do better.

So. If this is a universe where Jake has his shit together — he's 10 years on from the kelbrid mission and has better emotional balance, he's in a universe where Rachel survived to drag him to a therapist's office by the hair — then I'd love to see that relationship resume. If we extrapolate in a straight line from canon, then I'd say Cassie deserves better than eternity with a guy who mostly deals with emotions by trying to pretend they don't exist.

#animorphs #animorphs spoilers #cassie animorphs #jake berenson #cake #let's get hear it for my fellow ronnie fans #it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

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