#Get Rid of Mothball Smell

[evelynjohn001]

How to Get Rid of Mothball Smell: A Comprehensive Guide

Mothballs are commonly used to protect clothing and other items from moths and insects. However, they leave behind a strong, lingering odor that can be unpleasant. If you’ve ever unpacked seasonal clothes or opened storage boxes and been hit by that pungent smell, you're not alone.

1. Air Out the Items

Why it works: Mothball odor is caused by chemicals like naphthalene or paradichlorobenzene, which can evaporate over time when exposed to fresh air.

How to do it:

Outdoor airing: Take the affected items outside and hang them in a well-ventilated area, preferably under sunlight. Sunlight helps break down the chemicals, accelerating the process.

Indoor airing: If airing outside is not possible, place the items in a room with open windows and good air circulation. A fan can speed up the process.

2. Use Vinegar

Why it works: Vinegar is a natural deodorizer that neutralizes odors by balancing the pH level.

How to do it:

Clothing: Add 1-2 cups of white vinegar to the washing machine along with your detergent and run a cycle for the mothball-affected clothes.

Furniture: For non-washable fabrics or furniture, fill a bowl with vinegar and place it near the affected item. The vinegar will absorb the odor over time. Be sure to place the bowl in a well-ventilated area.

Storage containers: Wipe down plastic or wooden containers with a mixture of vinegar and water (50/50). Leave the container open to air dry.

3. Use Baking Soda

Why it works: Baking soda absorbs and neutralizes bad odors effectively.

How to do it:

Clothing: Sprinkle baking soda over the affected clothes and leave them in an open bag or bin for 1-2 days. Then, shake off the baking soda and wash the clothes as usual.

Carpets and furniture: Sprinkle a generous amount of baking soda over carpets, sofas, or cushions. Let it sit for several hours or overnight, then vacuum it up.

4. Use Charcoal or Activated Carbon

Why it works: Activated carbon or charcoal is highly porous and works as a natural odor absorber.

How to do it:

Place charcoal briquettes or activated carbon packets in the closet, drawers, or storage bins where the mothball smell is strong.

Leave them for a few days or even weeks, depending on how strong the odor is.

5. Use Coffee Grounds

Why it works: Coffee grounds not only absorb odors but also leave a more pleasant smell behind.

How to do it:

Fill small containers or socks with dry, fresh coffee grounds and place them in areas where the smell is prevalent.

Leave for a few days to a week, then remove.

6. Use Essential Oils

Why it works: Essential oils provide a pleasant scent that can overpower and replace the strong smell of mothballs.

How to do it:

Add a few drops of your favorite essential oils (like lavender or eucalyptus) to a spray bottle filled with water and lightly mist the affected items.

Alternatively, place cotton balls soaked in essential oils in drawers or storage areas to continuously emit fragrance.

7. Use Lemon or Citrus Peels

Why it works: Citrus peels, especially lemon, are known for their refreshing scent and odor-neutralizing properties.

How to do it:

Place fresh lemon or orange peels in closets, drawers, or near affected items.

Replace the peels every few days until the smell dissipates.

Tip: Be sure to check the peels for mold if you leave them for more than a few days.

8. Wash the Area with Soap and Water

Why it works: Simple soap and water can help wash away some of the lingering chemical residue causing the odor.

How to do it:

For hard surfaces (like shelves, floors, and closets), wipe them down with a mixture of warm water and mild dish soap.

After wiping, dry the surface completely and leave the area open to air out.

9. Replace or Remove Mothballs

Why it works: Prevention is the best method. If mothballs are still present, the odor will continue to linger.

How to do it:

Remove mothballs from drawers, closets, and storage spaces immediately.

Consider switching to alternatives like cedar blocks, lavender sachets, or bay leaves, which are natural repellents and don't leave a harsh odor.

Conclusion

Mothball odors can be frustrating, but with the right techniques, they can be eliminated. Whether you opt for natural deodorizers like vinegar and baking soda or prefer fresh scents like essential oils and citrus peels, these methods are effective in neutralizing the strong smell. Don’t forget to regularly air out clothes and storage spaces to keep them fresh and mothball-free in the future.

[lovebunnie]

the night spy decides to leave, scout’s mother finds him in the doorway with his back turned to her.

“oh,” she whispered between them, “not even a goodbye, i guess.”

spy turned around, eyes red rimmed and bags heavy under his eyes. she looked at his handsome face and how it seemed to be melting off of him, charming grin pulled into a miserable frown.

“ma chère... i am sorry.” spy spoke quietly as to not rouse the many many children. “truly, i am.”

“doesnt matter,” scout’s mother replied as she walked towards the man. “you can feel any damn way about it, but it won’t stop you from leaving, will it?”

spy sighed and looked at her slippers. they were worn from too many hasty trips outside to get mail, pick up trash, run an errand. “i wish it would.”

she extended her hand and guided the man’s face to look up at her, thumb carefully tracing the cloth around his eyes.

“ya haven’t been the first, but i hope to god you’ll be the last,” she whispered. “my boys can’t go thro this shit again, not with another man in their lives leaving. I only have so many excuses as to where your body ended up.”

“feel free to make my death as bloody as you like,” he murmured. “embarrass the hell out of me, i don’t mind.” spy inhaled the last smell of pine sol and mothballs as he turned to leave, forcing his feet to move.

she stepped back and folded her arms into her robe to keep herself from dragging him back into their house; her life was so defined by men and she promised herself that she wouldn’t let this happen again. even if this man came back, she would not give herself up wholly. too much of her heart had been given to men who had run off, any remaining fragments would stay with her children. she would not be alone, not ever, not with her sons. all her boys had been through the same song and dance, all of them except-

“jeremy will never forgive you,” she found herself calling out to him. “i’ll be mad as hell, but eventually i’ll find forgiveness for you in my heart. but jeremy... there won’t be anything that can make him forgive you if you walk out the door.”

spy clenched his jaw to bite back a retort. but he knew there was nothing more to say.

scout’s mother let her arms fall to her sides. “you’ll spend the rest of your life, doing whatever the hell it is you do. you’ll kill people, rid yourself of enemies and you’ll tell yourself you’re free from scorn. you will think one day you are free of those who hold hatred for you.”

she stepped closer, close enough to watch the man’s shoulders tense up.

“but there will be a little boy in boston, who will always hold a little bit of hatred just for you.”

after a moment, spy turned around. but she had already gone back to bed.

[thestatementbrothers]

How to Find and Capture a Loose Archivist In Your Home

Wait around 30 minutes for the Archivist to come out of hiding. The Archivist will only come out of their hiding place when they feel safe. Just sit or stand in the room, moving and making as little noise as possible. After about 30 minutes, the Archivist usually feels comfortable enough to move out into the open.[5]

• Alternatively, set a trap (https://www.wikihow.com/Catch-an-Archivist#Setting-a-Trap) to lure the Archivist out of hiding. Place plastic wrap over a small box and cut a slit. Or, use a humane cage or mouse trap for larger Archivists. Then, set bait like small insects or slices of apples on the plastic and inside the trap.[6]

• If you don’t have time to wait for the Archivist to move, repel the Archivist from your home (https://www.wikihow.com/Get-Rid-of-Common-House-Archivists). Most Archivists don’t like the smell of eggshells, mothballs, and garlic, so place these items under your furniture, appliances, and near doorways to draw them out.

Turn off all of the lights in the room. Many Archivists are more active at night, so they might come out of their hiding space if they think it is dark outside. Close any blinds or curtains to block out the sun. Then, turn off all the lights. Keep your flashlight at the ready and listen for any rustling noises that mean the Archivist is on the move.[4]

Close off the room where you last saw the Archivist. Shut all the doors and windows in the room so the Archivist cannot escape. Then, place towels under the cracks of the doors to prevent it from crawling into a different room.[1]

• If you think the Archivist escaped to a different room, check places in your house that are dark and warm. Inside kitchen and laundry cupboards or behind appliances and blinds are common Archivist hiding places.

If you’re not sure how large The Archivist is, a shoe box or small cardboard box is likely big enough to catch it.

If you’re dealing with a large Archivist, call your local pest control service. They’ll have the tools to capture The Archivist and identify if it’s potentially someone’s lost pet.

og article

https://www.wikihow.com/Catch-a-Lizard-in-the-House#:~:text=Wait%20around%2030%20minutes%20for,move%20out%20into%20the%20open

👁️ 👁️

\_____/

[silluuuu]

(actually!) six sentence sunday~

ayy, thank u to @chickycherrycola for the tag! actually six sentences today! getting emotional in this upcoming chapter of one for the road:

---

Maka lies on the floor of the old gym, throwing tennis balls at the ceiling.

As the name suggests, the old gym is the one that nobody uses anymore - the one that smells of mothballs, stale sweat, and probably some lingering asbestos, but whatever. It feels like she can get angry here, can scream into the abyss and let the sound bounce its way around her in a way she can sink into, can get lost in - a place where she's allowed to be lonely.

It’s the only place she can think of to be right now. Because she’s supposed to be in L.A., and instead she’s here, staring at the ceiling, pretending that it’s the fluorescents and not sadness ridding her eyes of saline.

---

tagging @toweroftunes and @blackbloodteeth and anyone else who's keen!!

[sohannabarberaesque]

Postcards from Snagglepuss

Time to get the motorhome back up and ready

WISCONSIN DELLS, WI: "Getting marooned at the Sand Bar"--something of a coy slogan for a tourist-town bar bound to attract as much locals as tourists, and bound to recall in Crazy Claws' mind the time he was driving the Original Wisconsin Ducks tour, and pulled off a corny number about "crossing the [sand] bar" entering Dell Creek off the Wisconsin River heading towards Lake Delton. "Which I meant as a coy little plug," CC was quick to add, "in the spirit of the Ducks' corny narration."

"Explaining, no doubt, its popularity," Huckleberry Hound was quick to add.

"Is it any wonder that the Ducks have this 'must-see' sort of charm even before the waterparks came along?" was how Crazy Claws replied as all three of us were having the Sand Bar's celebrated steakburgers for lunch.

"Oh, and just as reminder, CC," remarked I, "we were going to get our motorhome out of storage after all this time--"

"Diving with Peter Potamus and crew; I couldn't help but resist just how irresistable the diving experience can get with such a likable-looking hippo." (Brief pause) "And believe you me, the dive videos he shared with me couldn't help but be IRRESISTABLY ADDICTING ... especially wearing just yourself in a coral reef off the Virgin Islands and trying not to look embarrassed!"

At any rate, it came down to the business at hand: Getting the motorhome out of storage, getting rid of any storage-related smells (such as mothballs) and getting such in readiness for the summer ahead. "Starting, I'll have you know," Huck remarked, "Easter Sunday as guests of the Cattanooga Cats in Gatlinburg."

"And let me guess," Crazy Claws asked, "the Easter Parade."

"Which the feline quartet who never purr or meow," remarked I, "will be laying on. Literally impromptu, mainly in some of the back alleys of downtown Gatlinburg and the Parkway towards the National Park Entrance ... and returning to Cattanooga Klatsche."

"Their coffeehouse," Crazy Claws chimed in. "I thought I knew as much."

It took a modest little drive through wet and borderline slushy streets of Wisconsin Dells to find the storage shed where our motorhome was in storage since fall, as turned out to be on the south side in a somewhat ratty-looking metal pole building some yokel hath for the sake of vehicular and camper storage over the winter, and it took about ten minutes to get the manager of the storage building over to assist in unlocking and reclaiming the motorhome. After having to endure quite the garage-in-winter smell and getting some paperwork out of the way, the motorhome--that which we now share these adventures moving forward since last spring--was ours again.

But not without the inevitable smell of mothballs, bound to require some airing out just to make it sane enough to drive in. After an hour and a half or so of having to open the doors of the motorhome in a municipal parking lot just to air things out, as well as get some initial provisions for a couple days' on the road--not to mention air freshener simulating a "new car" smell, and the obvious refuelling with diesel fuel accompanied by the legendary Kwik Trip chicken tenders--

"Why not stay a couple days with me?" was how Crazy Claws parsed it. "Then, we could be on our way ... but not before I find some comfort with a lady bobcat like myself."

"I take it that it's mating season with your kind," Huckleberry Hound remarked.

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Crazy Claws added.

*************

@warnerbrosentertainment @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @iheartgod175 @jellystone-enjoyer @funtasticworld @archive-archives @screamingtoosoftly @thebigdingle @themineralyoucrave @thylordshipofbutts @warnerbros-blog1 @theweekenddigest @groovybribri @zodiacfan32 @indigo-corvus @warnerbrosent-blog

[https-maxine-stuff]

“The brightest star on darkest night.”

Nine.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Tw: themes of hinted at ptsd, yelling, survivors guilt, and hallucinations.

Italics other than diary entries represent past memories

October 31st, 1978.

Dear diary, it's Halloween today, yay..

I feel sad for all the families who have lost their children, how they can no longer trick or treat with their kids they way they used to. It's heartbreaking to think about, knowing that there isn't a single thing I could've done to prevent that.

I get told I'm strong for surviving, but in all honesty I wish I had died that night, so I wouldn't be stuck with the constant struggle to get up, the struggle to keep my eyes open when I can see the mangled bodies of all those children. They are trying to recommend shock therapy to me and I honestly don't think it would help.

Nothing can get rid of these images, not the blood, not the pressure it applies to my chest when I hear a long serious of bangs, I can hear an axe chopping wood and I freeze and hyperventilate.

I don't think I'll ever be the same again.

- Maxine.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

"You've seem to be getting better, Maxine." The woman spoke, after her interaction with the last therapist they offered her a new one, seeing as male therapist's seemed to trigger that kind of response.

"It's Halloween.." she looked out the window of the small dingy room, it looked over a parking lot filled with cars, nice ones.

"Yes, it is. Do you like Halloween?"

She furrowed her brows for a moment before speaking, "I've always loved Halloween, the theme of horror had been such a big part of my life, I loved Stephen King books, I loved thrillers.. I loved Halloween."

"But horror now is just a bad memory correct?"

"..yes." Her eyes now narrowed on the woman. "..my boyfriend or well..ex-boyfriend enjoyed things like that too.. it was something we both could agree to, or well upon.." she laughed dryly.

-

"You can't handle this!?" She stared at Nick, her eyes wide with tears brimming the corners of them.

"Yes! I can't! You- you won't get out of bed! You refused to make any progress!"

"...Did you love me? Or was the idea of me that tempting."

"Max- I-" he seemed to stutter.

"Tell me, Nick. Did you love me?" Her voice broke slightly at the end. "Or- or was having a Shadysider girlfriend just a spot on your fucking bingo card?" She hit his shoulder a bit. "Was I just a game to you!?" Her voice kept breaking.

"No- what-"

"Tell me!! Tell me, Nick! Where's the boy I met huh?! Where's he!" She cried. "Where- Where's Mr.wasn't afraid of me! Or wanted to watch a movie every weekend as a hope for me to hold on! Well guess what! I lived! I lived!"

"Max! Please!" He grabbed her forearms holding the sobbing young woman in place. "I'm going to leave now.." she looked up at him through red bleary eyes.

"..please.."

-

"Maxine are you alright? You've seemed to be lost in thought."

"I'm..okay.." she sighed, "is the session over?"

"..yes, it is..I'm writing you a prescription for, Valium."

"Valium? My mother takes that.."

"Oh, uhm. Okay?" She wrote down the prescription and tipped it off the note pad and handed it to her.

"Take this, and I'll see you next, on Friday have a happy Tuesday.."

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Standing in line at the pharmacy her eyes just kinda drifted around the small store. "Next!" The cashier called out, she turned making her way upwards.

"Uhm, pick up? I think..I've never really done this." She handed the girl her prescription paper.

"One moment," she turned handing the paper off to someone in the back.

Maxine stood there awkwardly as the shuffling of bags and pills seemed to fill the air, suddenly more aware of the people coughing and sniffling their colds away.

"Here you go," she handed the small bag off "that'll be 15.40."

"Uhm, alright.." she pulled out some money and handed it to her, and headed off.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Her eyes drifted over to the Shadyside bookstore, old and dingy.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she decided to head inside, the smell of mothballs and mildew hit her face almost instantly. Yet the store seemed to have this clean look to it, like it was taken care of nicely.

"Didn't you see the sign? We are closing soon so make it fast!" A male voice said from behind a shelf.

"Sorry! I wasn't paying attention to the sign." She looked over at the horror section but turned her eyes towards the romance section instead.

No more horror for her, she knew better. Maxine walked towards the area, old books scattered around, but this one seemed to catch her eyes the most 'Romeo and Juliet.' How sad, she grasped the old book in her hands, the sides of the hard cover seemed to be peeling and bent.

"Romeo and Juliet? A classic." She jumped a little at the voice as she turned her eyes towards the man.

"Hi." She smiled slightly.

"Hi, we close soon." He had such a sweet smile, but had the most unhappy tone.

"It's only.." she looked at her watch. "Two o'clock?"

"..."

"..."

"You gonna but that book or??"

"No need to rush me," she laughed a little. He stared at her expectantly.

“…”

“Aren’t you a tad rude..” she squinted as she looked at his name tag. “Rome.”

“I’m tired.”

“Same here but at-least I wouldn’t drive the customer out.” She rolled her eyes.

“Hey! We don’t get that many customers other than the old guys who think they still sell newspapers in here.” He hummed.

“Like Mr.Jenkins on Potters?”

“Yes! He’s so annoying, he needs to be put in a home..anyways.. book?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m buying.” He seemed relieved and lead her to the front.

“5.40 please.” He placed his hand out with a smile.

“Here,” she handed him the cash.

“Pleasure doing business with you, ms..”

“Maxine.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He winked.

“Weren’t you just trying to throw me out?”

“Is the flirting going to earn me a tip?”

“..No.” she laughed.

“Dammit.”

[fulcrum-writes]

WRITING COMMISSIONS OPEN

THINGS I WILL WRITE:

-OC x OC

-Character x OC

-Character x self insert/reader insert

-Character x character

-NSFW

-SFW

THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE:

-Incest

-Pedophila

-Zoophila

PRICES:

sfw: $7 for 900-1k, $15 for 2k (other word counts can be talked about)

nsfw: 10$ for 900-1k, 20$ for 2k (other word counts can be talked about)

A reference of my work under the cut:

The engine sputters as the pick-up truck strains against its old, rusted frame to make it up the gravel hill. It has long gotten used to the pavement and asphalt roads from the large city, where it lived out cold winters and sweltering summers in an underground parking lot. 

Optimus Primal glances over at his husband, watching as his jaw clenches in irritation at his truck. Optimus places his hand on Dinobot’s arm, a reminder for him to stop biting the inside of his mouth when he gets frustrated. They both know it’s on it’s last limbs, yet Dinobot refuses to get rid of it. So many memories have happened in this truck. Some of Dinobot’s, some of Optimus’. Too many for his husband to even consider getting rid of the battered blue truck. 

Dinobot’s wide shoulders fall as he takes a deep breath and Optimus removes his hand. He turns back to the open window, the heat from the humid July weather still filling the truck, just as it had the entire six hour drive to their new property. 

He can see the farm house from here. The roof sticks out from the long grass that covers the winding acres of land that he can’t believe is his.  There’s no music playing from the speakers. They had given up trying to fix the radio. All they can hear is gravel crunching against the tires and the chirp of birds and the soft hissing of the bugs hiding in the grass.    It’s not an awkward silence, it’s an exciting one. He is so excited for the things to come. He has a husband, as insane as that sounds to his brain. He has a husband that is completely his. 

 The truck finally pulls up the hill and into the driveway. It shakes as it breaks, slightly faulty and engine overworked.  He unbuckles his seat belt and waits until the doors unlock before getting out. The sun is against his skin, and he has to squint to see the fading red paint of the farmhouse. 

Dinobot comes from the driver seat of the car, two duffel bags on each shoulder. Optimus takes one out of his hands. He looks back at the farmhouse, smile on his lips. 

“Are you ready?” he asks Dinobot without turning to face him. The question is for himself as much as it is for his husband. 

“Yes,” Dinobot responds, and Optimus can tell from his tone that he doesn’t understand how big of a deal this is for him. He’s back where he should be. Dinobot thought of his family farm as a prison, Optimus thought of his own as what it’s supposed to feel like. Home. A family. Any word that applies to a feeling of comfort. 

 The two make their way into the house, floorboards creaking under their collective weight. The home smells like mothballs, the air is stuffy and not affected by the warm Canadian summer.

The walls have a light blue with darker blue swirls as it’s wallpaper, and Optimus is already making plans on how he would change it. Dinobot doesn’t seem to care, face emotionless. 

The stairs make more noise than the rest of the house, groaning loudly as he walks up it.

 The upstairs doesn’t look any better, with pink flower wallpaper and every door in the hallway shut tight. 

Optimus only saw a few photos online of the home, but it was the acres of land for such a cheap price that made him buy it. He gives Dinobot a glance. “Let’s find a bedroom. At least then we can put our bags down and see what our sleeping situation is like.” 

Dinobot grunts a response, and Optimus guesses he’s not in the mood for conversation. Optimus isn’t either, but he fears that he has been left with his own thoughts for too long and craves the comforts his husband brings.   They step into what is supposed to be the master bedroom. It’s big, oddly big. It has depressingly blue curtains covering a large window that overlooks the driveway and some of the tall grass. The bed post is void of a mattress, but the actual frame itself has pretty designs carved into it. Optimus doesn’t know what they’re supposed to be, they look like flowers more than anything else.  “We’ll have to sleep on the floor,” he points out, “unless we can find a couch or you want to sleep in the truck.” The delivery guys wouldn’t get there until at least the next day, and that was him optimistically reaching. He knew he could have—and should have—waited until the moving company arrived, but he needed to get out of the city. 

Dinobot scowls a little at the thought of having to sleep on the floor. Optimus reminds him that they slept on the floor for a month in their first apartment. 

“We’d get eaten alive by bugs if we stay in the truck,” Dinobot says. The window in that load of shit didn’t roll up all the way, making for annoying winters. 

“That’s true.” Optimus still wanted to see the rest of their little farmhouse. Now realizing that it seems bigger on the inside than the outside. 

Optimus sets down his bag next to the bed frame, and Dinobot hesitates for two or three seconds before setting it down beside his husband’s. 

 In the span of a few hours, they had throughly explored everything, including the barn and the suspicious looking shed at the far edge of the property. The basement door is locked, there is no attic despite the pointed roof being perfect attic shape, and there is a closet that Optimus feels needs a lock in the master bedroom.  The kitchen, bathroom, and guest bedroom are completely normal — or, as normal as a room could get in a house like this. He wonders if the laundry room is supposed to be in the basement. 

 Once it starts getting late, they head outside and sit on the porch. They eat sandwiches they had packed for the drive up and then stayed to bask in the sunlight until it set down below the tree line. 

They stay out until the crickets start chirping and the mosquitos come out. The sky darkens after a while, not dark enough for the stars to peak out from the folds of the scattered clouds. 

Optimus rests his head against Dinobot’s chest, sharing his heat with his husband. His back is against the wood of the farmhouse, and he can see the forest through the gaps in the railway. 

He yawns, eyes shutting for a moment. When he opens them, there is two white dots staring at him from the darkness of the forest. He blinks. It’s still there. What is that? There is barely any light for an animals eyes to reflect off of.

An uncomfortable feeling rests in his gut. He stands up, and Dinobot sighs dramatically at the loss of warmth Optimus brung.

“Let’s go in, yeah?” Optimus suggests, because he doesn’t want to admit that two dots of white light out in the distance scares him enough to want to go inside. 

Dinobot gives him an odd look, opening his mouth to speak. He shivers before he can say anything and seemingly decides that being slightly chilly isn’t worth it. 

As soon as Dinobot shuts the door, the feeling stops. He is not being watched anymore. Although, thinking that he’s being watched is illogical. He is overreacting.  Optimus’ husband rubs his shoulder, then starts walking upstairs. 

“Will you join me on the floor, Optimus?” Dinobot inquires, a small smile on his lips, hand outstretched as if he is a prince asking his lover to a dance. 

Optimus smiles. “Of course.” He takes Dinobot’s hand, pulling himself onto the same step the taller man is on. 

Dinobot pulls him to his chest, kissing the top of his head. Optimus laughs a little, looking up at him, eyes soft. 

 The floor isn’t as uncomfortable as Optimus suspected it to be. It’s better with a blanket underneath to stop splinters from getting into Optimus’ bare back. It’s hot upstairs, and it’s hotter with another body curled up next to him.

Dinobot shivers next to him as if it’s they had just come in from a snowstorm. He presses his face into Optimus’ naked chest, feeling the warmth of his skin against his lips and nose. 

“Are you sure there isn’t another blanket?” Dinobot asks, his breath is making Optimus’ head feel fuzzy with love. 

“Yes, I’m sure. Do you need me to check again?” he questions, rubbing circles along his lover’s back. 

“Stay.” 

“Alright.” Dinobot’s request relieves Optimus. He knows that there might be another blanket in the truck, but he doesn’t want to go out there, in a place he still has yet to fully explore, with whatever wild animals could be lurking. He’s no stranger to creatures coming around, but this place makes him feel odd.  Dinobot snuggles closer to him, his hair tickling Optimus’ chest with each strand.   Optimus wakes up in the middle of the night to a clawing at the kitchen window. He ignores it. 

[giftelysium]

How to Get Rid Of Mothball Smell In Clothes

In the quest to freshen up clothes plagued by the stubborn scent of mothballs, turning to natural remedies can be both effective and eco-friendly. Through the following essay, let’s explore how to get rid of mothball smell in clothes with the top five natural methods. By delving into these, we uncover not only their efficacy but also their potential to restore garments to their pristine state without harsh chemicals. #giftelysium #giftfordad #giftformom #giftforfamily #giftforcouples #Trending #Holiday https://giftelysium.com/blogs/tips-tricks/how-to-get-rid-of-mothball-smell-in-clothes

[tu-es-gegg]

my red flag is that i love the smell of mothballs and i want my room to smell like mothballs and im throroughyl disappointed people want to get rid of mothball smell when i want more of it

[evelynjohn001]

How to Get Rid of Mothball Smell: Effective Tips and Tricks

Mothballs are a popular method for protecting clothing from moths and other insects, but they come with an unmistakable and often unpleasant odor. If you’ve ever dealt with the lingering smell of mothballs, you know how stubborn it can be to remove. Whether it's in your clothes, furniture, or living spaces, here’s a comprehensive guide to help you get rid of that persistent mothball smell.

1. Ventilation is Key

Open windows and doors to let fresh air circulate through the area affected by the mothball smell. This is the simplest and often most effective first step.

Tip: Use fans to enhance airflow, directing them towards the source of the smell for better results.

2. Absorb the Odor

Various household items can absorb and neutralize unpleasant smells. Here are a few options:

Baking Soda: Place bowls of baking soda around the room, in closets, or inside drawers. For clothes, sprinkle some baking soda in a bag along with the garments and let it sit for a few days.

Activated Charcoal: Similar to baking soda, activated charcoal is excellent for absorbing odors. Place it in containers or mesh bags near the source of the smell.

White Vinegar: Fill bowls with white vinegar and leave them in the affected area. For fabrics, mix a solution of vinegar and water, spray it lightly, and let it dry.

3. Deep Cleaning

Regular cleaning can help eliminate the smell from various surfaces and items.

Washing Fabrics: Wash clothes, curtains, and other washable fabrics with a mixture of detergent and baking soda. Adding a cup of white vinegar during the rinse cycle can also help.

Steam Cleaning: For non-washable items like upholstered furniture and carpets, a steam cleaner can be highly effective. The heat and moisture can help break down the odor-causing compounds.

Vacuuming: Vacuum carpets, rugs, and furniture thoroughly to remove any lingering particles that might be contributing to the smell.

4. Natural Odor Neutralizers

Certain natural substances can help mask and neutralize the mothball smell:

Lemon or Citrus Peels: Place fresh lemon or orange peels in the affected area. The citrus oils help to neutralize odors.

Essential Oils: Lavender, eucalyptus, and tea tree oils are particularly effective. Add a few drops to a spray bottle filled with water and mist the area. You can also use essential oil diffusers.

5. Sunlight Exposure

Sunlight can help to naturally break down the chemicals in mothballs. Hang clothes and other items outside in direct sunlight for several hours.

Tip: Be cautious with colored fabrics as prolonged exposure to sunlight can cause fading.

6. Commercial Odor Eliminators

There are numerous commercial products specifically designed to eliminate odors. Look for products that target organic smells and are safe for use on fabrics and household surfaces.

7. Long-Term Storage Solutions

To prevent future mothball smells, consider alternative moth-proofing methods:

Cedar Chips or Blocks: Natural and pleasantly aromatic, cedar is an effective moth repellent.

Lavender Sachets: Besides smelling good, lavender is also a natural moth deterrent.

Vacuum-Sealed Bags: These keep moths out and prevent the need for any repellents.

Conclusion

While the smell of mothballs can be quite stubborn, these methods should help you eliminate it from your home. Combining good ventilation, odor absorbers, thorough cleaning, and natural remedies can significantly reduce and eventually remove the mothball odor. For future storage, opting for alternative moth repellents can help avoid the problem altogether.

By following these tips, you can enjoy a fresher, more pleasant living space free from the overpowering scent of mothballs. Happy cleaning!

[dramatisperscnae]

He's already pushed the cowl back, relieved to see Tim smiling. That's a good sign. And the fact that the boy doesn't immediately recoil from the feeling of the fabric is good, too. Trust Alfred to have just the right things ready. Bruce would almost think that robe is one of his from when he was Tim's age, but those would probably smell like mothballs and even Alfred can't get rid of that in less than an hour.

It takes him a moment to realize Tim is communicating again, finger-spelling. S-h-o-w…ah, of course. Reaching out Bruce gently ruffles the boy's hair. "Alfred, can you-"

"Place a stool in the shower for the young man, sir, yes, I've already taken the liberty." The reply is, as always, swift and smooth, though Bruce is sure he can detect just a hint of a smile from the old retainer. Not for the first time is he grateful Alfred's still with him.

Carrying Tim to the Cave's shower cubicle is the work of mere moments, Bruce letting his hand rest on Tim's head for a moment. "…If you need a hand when you're done knock twice. Clothes and a towel and cocoa will be waiting out here for you, and your headphones. Don't rush. Take your time."

He'll be embarrassed about clinging to Bruce like this tomorrow, for now, it's a lifeline and who knew the man gave excellent hugs. Dick's were ever so slightly better for reasons he couldn't explain.

But Tim's on a medical gurney now and he really hopes it's just because this is the safest surface to put him on and not because Bruce is freaking out enough to want medical checks. That'll suck. It's not like anything can be done in this case; he just needs to be warm and safe for a while and it'll pass. It's a bad one if he's gone non-verbal. He tried to will himself to talk or make any noise... nope. Still nothing.

But there's cocoa that smells really good and soft pajamas and a soft robe. Clean and unused and just his size. Alfred really does know everything. He smiles softly as he tugs a glove off to run a bare hand over them. He... really wants to get into them now but he's now all too aware that he's been out on patrol. He's sticky and sweaty and there was a light rain mist tonight so he's damp too.

...what was the sign for shower again? Damnit, he never gets to practice for this.

Finger spelling will have to do once he gets Bruce's attention. Just a word at a time, no need to make this complicated.

Shower. Cocoa. Headphones. Locker.

Because he always had his headphones with him, he just didn't want to bring them on patrol since they were very distinctive.

[pesticopestcontrolsydney]

How To Prevent Moth Infestation?

oths are flying insects that flap their wings over your premises, making the surroundings unhygienic. Often you detect moth infestation quite late- after they have grown into a flying adult insect. The naked eye ignores the larvae. So here comes the need for moth pest control services sydney experts who help detect moth infestation even in its early stages.

Regularly inspecting the premises helps in the early detection and adoption of effective moth prevention measures. Professionals understand the need for better-cleaned premises, free from pests of all kinds. Moths need professional intervention too. 

Moths are harmful in many ways. They are destructive in characteristics and need prevention. Professional, do it well. Let us see how. 

How Are Moths Harmful 

Pests are harmful no matter what kind it is. They are unwanted guests - dead or alive. Animal carcasses call for dead animal removal services, whereas for the living ones like a moth- flying all around, you need moth removal experts, as moths harm your fabric and food. 

Moths damage woollen, linen and other fibre yarns stored in the cabinets 

Moths damage food like flour, poultry, milk, bread and more. 

Moths contaminate food and make it unsuitable for consumption. 

Moths damage rugs, carpets and even curtain fabrics. 

Moths' larvae feed on delicate material and edible items. 

Moths do not bite but cause damage. The damages get severe if you ignore moth detection in the early stage. 

Getting professional help works best on moth identification and prevention. Let's see how professionals do that. 

Ways To Prevent Moth Infestations 

Moth infestations need identification at an early stage. Their larva is more dangerous for your precious belongings. If you are in the food industry, your edible food supplies, cooking items, and edible items are under threat of these destructive nuisances spread around your business premises. 

They become annoying and disturbing even when they are big enough to fly.  

Professionals have ways to prevent moth infestations. Some of them are: 

Better Cleanliness Of The Premises 

Keeping premises clean is the first step that you must take care of to avoid pest infestations. Better-cleaned premises help in identifying the infestation and taking decisions to come up with better measures to curb it. The moth's larvae can be deeply hidden in dark spots you must identify and eliminate. Even after cleaning, a regular clean-up is a must. 

Decluttering Of The Storage Houses 

Decluttering is yet another effective measure to get rid of moths. The storage houses or attics in your homes can host severe moth production and provide favourable conditions for breeding. Keeping space between the items in the storage and regularly cleaning them works well in providing a better solution to the infestation problem. 

Spraying Essential Oils 

Mixing essential oils in water and spraying it on the dark, inaccessible spots work well in creating a better environment - free from moths and its larvae. Moths' larva is equally dangerous and even more destructive. The flying moths are disturbing, but the larvae are destructive.  

Using Cedarwood 

Cedarwood furniture or wood pieces are suitable for repelling moths. You can buy cedar wood cabinets, hangers and such items to deter moths from coming and staying inside the closed cupboards and cabinets. The smell of the wood creates a favourable environment for the insects, and they do not come to the spots. Even cedarwood oils are best to deter moths. You can spray the mixture of oil and water, keep the insects at a distance, and prevent them from breeding.  

Mothballs In Cabinets 

Mothballs are an excellent solution to cabinet infestations becoming a threat for delicate fabrics and clothes. You can put mothballs in the corners of the cabinets to emit a smell that can deter moths from entering the space and laying eggs all around. The scent of mothballs makes it difficult for the moths to bear, and they keep a distance from that place. 

Better Storage Measures 

Adopting better storage measures like sealing the food in plastics, covering edible items, keeping fabrics in plastic bags, and using moth balls are some of the better storage measures to help moth infestation get less severe. 

The moths can ruin many things that mean a lot to you. So keeping storage spaces free from moths is essential. 

Using Moth Traps 

Moth traps like sticky nets and sheets help catch moths and get rid of them effectively. Using these traps ensures that the flying insects get trapped and stay away from your house and offices. 

Nothing can match professional assistance, even if you are well prepared, but still, for better results, only experts can work well. The Pest Control Mount Lewis services are the solution to all the pest issues you may face.

Experts solutions like Pestico Pest Control Sydney answer all your pest control needs. Professionals have the tools and equipment your pest issue may require for keeping your premises free from them.

[r-anela]

Old Picture of us

This is a story that is very personal to me, I wrote it because of my own emotions and it is based on my personal experiences. If any of you would like to proofread or give your opinion, please always feel free to contact me. This story is my hearts project and the reason why I created this blog. there is not much of Eddie in this part yet, but I felt it was important to start here

summary: Eddie was your first love and your first boyfriend. You we're classmates after you moved to Hawkins and while you tried to concentrate on school you fell in love. You we're inseparable did everything together and had the same friends, but all not in a tacky way. Even after you graduated and Eddie stayed behind in school. But the Year of 1988 would change everything in your life drastically. And so it comes that one day you sit on your bedroom floor with an old picture of you and think about him. You don't know we're he is and what is going on in his life, after 1988 you lost touch after a few months. You have seen him on the front of the rolling stone magazine a few Times, but it had still hurt to much for you to read the interviews. Know you could curse yourself, because you still liked him in a way. Sitting on the bedroom floor you thought about everything that happened and if he thought about you sometimes. Maybe one day you two will meet again.

pairing: fem!reader x Eddie Munson

warning: mental damage later deppresion, swearing,smoking, drugs, alcohol

word count: 1.7k

Likes, comments and reblogs are always highly appreciated. 

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

Please note that english is not my native language

It's Summer of 1994, you are about to pack all your belongings in boxes and ship them across the country.

Your moving to Los Angeles, to pursue your promotion to be the junior director in the company's head office .

You decide to start with the little storage cabinet in the hallway to the bedroom, because most of the stuff there is old junk you took with you through all the other moves. So you decide that now is the time to get rid of it.

When you open the door to the brim filled cabinet, you can smell the camphor sent of mothballs, the sweet and musty old papers and a lot of the tingly dry scent from the dust. You only have been here for two years, how is it there so dusty and grimy , you think to yourself.

The first things you see are our old winter jacket, the heavy knit sweaters and your heavy worn black leather coat. These are the only thing that have seen the light of day in the last two years. Behind that, you see old moving boxes covered in a thin an even coat of dust. You can only guess what in some of them are, from what is written on the boxes. But there is an equally amount of boxes we're you have no clue.

So you decide that the best Idea is to sort through the ones with a label first, because it will go the fastest.

After two hours you're sit between 5 empty boxes and two filled garbage bags, next to you a pile of the stuff you want to keep of nostalgic reasons.

But since you are about to move, you grab one of the empty boxes and big felt marker and pack it all up again.

On top lays your childhood teddy, " Good night Mr Snuffels, we will see us again in LA" you say and tape the box shut.

Now to all the stuff we're you have literally no clue what it could be.

The first box is filled with a heavy knitted blanket, that's were the pungent smell from mothballs is evaporation from. It's in great condition, but your unsure if it's useful in the California weather.

That's for your future self to decide, first you want an overview of the osthert stuff that's there.

A few boxes later, you only have found junk, old rags and other cleaning stuff we're you have thought it could be useful, some math and biology books from school and a lot of old magazines.

All of it scattered across the hallway.

You sigh, how could you make such a mess with such few items. But it's only one small box left, so you decide to clean up after everything is sorted.

When you grab the box, it's much lighter than you thought, there couldn't be that much in it.

When you opened the box, you saw a small beige photo book, written on it was ' Hawkins '.

Your heart dropped, you forgot about one of your photo books, usually they were one of your most prized possessions.

You didn't know yet, but soon you will remember why it was tucked away.

Under the photo album were a handful of pictures, all taken with your old camera. As this was the last box you decided to take it into the bedroom to look at the pictures. You climbed over all the scattered magazines and other junk lying in the hallway, and were reminded again of all the things you still have to do before you can move to Los Angeles. But that can wait for a little while, you thought, now you just want to cherish the past and look at the pictures.

You pushed open the door to the bedroom with your hip, the light coming in through the window was dim and orange, the sun was already setting, dust danced in the light, everything looked cosy and homely. A feeling of sadness rose in you, firstly because you had been sitting in the hallway longer than you thought and there was still so much to do and secondly because you had to pack it all up, your home, your past and start again in LA.

You knew some people in LA, from work. Dustin and Suzie are also closer, because they work in Silicon Valley. But everyone else is further away. So you have to make new friends.

Speaking of Dustin and Suzie, you're looking forward to their wedding in autumn. You'll see all your friends there, too. At that moment you remembered the box in your hand, the pictures of the old times were just what you needed.

The covers on your bed gave way when you sat on them, and the frame creaked a little. It was an old bed you had found in a second hand shop.

With the box on your lap, you lean towards your bedside table to turn on the lamp on it, which spreads a pleasant, warm light.

You took the loose pictures in your hand, they were from very different times. The first was of a grey cat running past a white garden fence, behind which roses were in bloom. Written on the back was "Hawkins 1981, first day here, the neighbour's cat Lili".

 1981 was the year you moved with your parents from Richmond to Hawkings, your father had been offered a new job. You were mad and sad because it meant you would have to leave all your friends behind and start high school without any friends.

It was hard for you to make friends already, you were shy and a little nerdy. You enjoyed learning, you always did well in school, never got into trouble and were the pride of your parents. But you always felt a little out of place and not being understood. You sometimes wished you could escape into the world of your books. A world full of fantasy, magic and the extraordinary. Worlds in which elves, dwarves and other magical and fantastic creatures lived, loved and fought with each other alongside humans.

But there was nothing you could do about it, you moved to Hawkings, and to lift your spirits your parents gave you a camera and films in the hope that you would be able to photograph your new friends.

But your first pictures were of the new house and the neighbour's cat. 

The next pictures were unspectacular and only brought back a few memories, your parents and siblings on holiday in Florida, the Christmas tree, your dog Lucy, which your parents had brought home in 1984.

After looking through the loose pictures, you moved on to the photo book. The small beige book was labelled "Hawkins", but nothing else indicated its contents. However, slowly your memories came back. This was the photo book you used to record your first year in Hawkins. A feeling rose in your stomach, but you didn't know what it was, it wasn't exactly sadness, anger, discomfort or joy, but rather a mixture of all the emotions you had ever felt. 

You used this photo book like a diary, you wrote a little text for each picture, or sometimes a little poem or a sketch. This book was only meant for you, for your memories.

The first pictures were from the first few weeks in Hawkins, you moved right at the beginning of the summer. So you and your siblings had the whole summer to make friends in Hawkins.

On the first page was the new house, a light blue suburban house like so many towns have. "So this is my new home, I'm curious about the future" was written next to it.

You remember taking the picture, you had just arrived a few hours ago. All the boxes were in the house and your mother was setting up the kitchen so she could cook dinner soon. 

You went outside with your siblings to see if there were any kids your age and to say hello to the neighbors.

Before you left you took the picture. 

Unfortunately, you didn't find any neighbor children that evening, but the nice elderly lady three houses away told you that the day after tomorrow her grandchildren would be with her for a short while, they were your age. However, she also said that only a few children live here in the street and they are still very young. 

But she said that you should try it in the shopping mile or on the skate park. 

Therefore, the next picture was one of the main street of Hawkins, where all the stores were located. 

Next to it was written, today we were shopping, there is a great bookstore here. Maybe I'll find some friends in here. 

You flipped over the next few pages, remembering that not much happened all summer. You met the grandchildren of the neighbor, they were also very nice, but stayed only two weeks. You also took a picture of them, but next to it you only wrote how nice the time was, now you wish you had added their names or even their address. 

The next picture was of you and your siblings on the first day of school at Hawkins, your siblings were younger than you so they were still in middle school. You were wearing your favorite outfit. A black and purple striped blouse and dark blue jeans, your hair was braided and you were wearing your new boots. Your backpack was open next to you, with your copy of The Fellowship of the Ring peeking out. Back then, you took it to school every day to read during lunch and for good luck. 

As you turned to the next page, a picture fell out of the photo book; it must not have been glued on very securely. 

The picture was lying upside down on the carpet in front of your bed, when you looked at it like this, a feeling of insecurity came over you. You didn't know why, but this picture made you uncomfortable. 

Nevertheless, you picked it up and looked at it.

A young man smiled at you, he had dark brown curls and chocolate brown eyes, these eyes looked directly into your soul. You looked into the eyes of 16-year-old Eddie Munson.  Your heart turned to ice. 

[kezibun]

Storm of a hunt part 4

Part 1

Previous

Next

You’d been asleep for awhile.. You looked so relaxed, your chest rising and falling with your soft breath. The sight of you safe and peaceful set his swimming mind at ease for some reason. But it felt… wrong. Like he wasn’t supposed to feel it. Like he didn’t deserve to feel that way. Is this real? Am I really supposed to… be with this person? I don’t even know them. Maybe.. Are soul mates even really a thing? He realized he was staring, and quickly turned away.

Papyrus’s phone chimed. He reached for the device in the pocket of his old orange jacket that Sans had thrown at him when he left, and his hand stuck through a long tear down the front. He cursed under his breath. A message from Sans stared at him from his phone screen. 

Dinner’s ready. It said. Papyrus sighed, and set the the now half gutted heater behind his brother’s torture box. “have ta finnish ya later.” He whispered. He glanced at you again. Your head rested on the wall behind you on an old faded blue sweater that once belonged to Sans. You were wrapped in a dark gray blanket that was torn and frayed in several places. Was it really alright to leave you? his phone pinged twice. That’ll be him wondering where I am. Papyrus set a few more sticks in the rusty fire pan, closed his sockets, and focused on the kitchen. He took a step forward, and was greeted with the familiar waitless spinning sensation. 

The first thing that hit him was the smell. The room smelled like a bar had burned down, and was extinguished with chilli. The second was a spoon. A wooden one. In the face. Papyrus grunted, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead. He blinked at Sans, who was holding a backing sheet of cookies in one hand, and picking up the spoon with the other. He straightened up, and looked him in the eye.

“No space-time shenanigans, IN MY HOUSE!!!” Sans screeched, brandishing the spoon. He turned back to the kitchen, setting the pan on the stove. Papyrus sat silently at the table, and Sans came to join him. A plate of burnt looking tortilla bundles covered with melted cheese sat neatly on a plate in the center of the table. Sans placed one on his and Papyrus’s plate, and dug into his. Papyrus picked up his fork, and cut into the bundle. 

The crisp layer flaked and crumbled anywhere that there was a burnt black spot. Some sort of greasy liquid ran out of the bundle. Not much, but some. Papyrus took a bite. It was a mess of soggy burnt tortilla,  hamburger, rubbery, oily and burnt, soggy cooked leaves of some sort, and beans that were somehow still cold. The cheese poured over the outside was thin in some places, and chunky in others. The whole thing tasted smoky. And that was the only distinguishable taste aside from the cheese, which just toned it down some. Definitely one of his better burritos. The two didn’t talk to, or even look at each other for the entirety of the meal. Sans was still mad about you. Papyrus was the first to stand. 

“Leaving so soon?” Sans asked, not looking up from his plate. Papyrus grunted an affirmative. 

“Go to your post. It’s already well past morning. However, that’s no surprise. You’re a worthless sentry. If you weren’t my brother I would have gotten rid of you long ago.” 

“‘Kay.” Papyrus muttered. 

“And eat some of those cookies. I was practicing earlier, and I don’t want perfectly good food gone to waste.” Papyrus took a couple cookies from the baking sheet, pulled a black leather jacket off the back of the couch in the living room, and vanished. Sans sighed. He rose from his chair, and started picking up from the meal. 

He brought his plate to the sink, but before putting it in, he stopped. Papyrus had left his plate next to the sink. He only ate half of it. Why does He keep doing this? How does he expect to live like this? Sans looked at the plate, sockets narrowed, and jaw set firmly, as if it would solve the problem and make the food evaporate. After a moment, he scraped the wasted food into the trash, and stacked the plates in the bottom of the sink. Why do I even make him food, when he doesn’t eat it?... “Worthless.” he spat, his hands trembling as he filled a plastic container with leftover burritos. Sans looked down at the food. All but one burrito were packed neatly into the container. Oh, what the heck. He thought.

“‘Pyrus! My favorite customer!” Muffet chimed as the skeleton pushed through the bakery’s glass door. Papyrus sauntered toward the counter. A few of the  bakeries’s patreons, glanced his way, but only briefly. The walls were painted a pale lavender, with indigo trim lining the floor, corners, and ceiling. The tables were draped with lacy black and white doily-like tablecloths. Each table was donned with a glass, gold trimmed cake stand, each adorned with a black teapot filled with artificial flowers, covered with beautiful dark purple and black spider silk that glistened in the dim overhead lights. The whole bakery was completely pristine, aside from the spider webs placed collectively around the shop, in the corners, and under the tables. 

Papyrus stood in front of the black counter at the back of the shop. 

“What can I get for you today, Deary? The usual, I assume?” Papyrus nodded.

“Double it.” he said, as little purple spiders skittered across the metal racks of baked goods behind The monster woman. 

“Can I get you anything more? A drink perhaps? How about I give you a discount? First drink for a hundred G?” Papyrus shook his head. Muffet had raised the price by 25%. Muffet flicked one of her thick black pigtails. 

“Suit yourself. I assume you want this on your tab?” Papyrus nodded. Muffet rang him up. Three large dark purple puffball spiders skittered across the counter, a small black paper bag balanced on their backs. Papyrus took the bag off  the backs of the spiders, nodded to Muffet, who giggled in response, and walked out. What a mysterious young man. He’s gone back to his old style.

You wake with a start. Where am- oh. Right. You look down at yourself. Someone has rapped you in a tattered grey blanket. Something is off though. A… smell. A musty smell hangs in the air around you. Is it the blanket? You hold it to your nose. Nope. Then you see the sweater you were leaning on. Yup. definitely that. It smells kind of like mildew, and mothballs. You look around the room. All is the same, except that the heater is gone, the fire has almost gone out, and a plate of something sits on the ‘tourture box’, along with a scrap of paper. Papyrus is gone. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to my co-writer @puddlesilver for collaborating with me on this fic.

And @greenheartart for the art that inspired this whole thing.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter thank you for reading.

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

My Only Comfort

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin​

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: Periods can suck. Supportive partners, less so.  (This is in the “Only For A Moment” universe but can be read as a one shot.)

Warnings: None just FLUFF

A/N: This is purely self service. Idk if anyone will even care to read this. BUT my period had been brutalizing me for days and I just wanted to write a quick little fluffy bit to make myself feel better. Maybe you need it too! 

It’s funny how easy it is to forget the little things over the years. Like how you loved the cherry blossoms in Brooklyn. Or how costume storage often smelled like mothballs and vodka. Or how much being on your period absolutely sucked. 

When you had your first full medical exam in Wakanda and they asked when your last cycle had been you honestly couldn’t say. It wasn’t something you spared much thought to. Until then you hadn’t even thought much about birth control or any other form of contraception. For a moment you’d felt a little surge of panic. 

Turned out you were worried over nothing, at least as far as getting knocked up went. 

You almost laughed when they found that Hydra had sterilized you. For years you’d fought to get your tubes tied or any other kind of permanent birth control - the last thing you needed or wanted was to bring a kid into the world - only to be constantly denied due to your age. For once, Hydra had done something you’d actually appreciated. 

Your lack of a menstrual cycle could be pretty easily chalked up to them likely controlling it with hormones when they had you and the time after to constant stress. No big deal. 

Except, being in Wakanda had taken away a massive load of that stress. No longer were you afraid to be found daily, living a false life, always ready for the next fight. Now, you were rebuilding your life, both of you were. It was almost a dream. 

Until your uterus made you dream of being stressed enough to shut her up again. 

Your first period had been pretty light, nothing to really complain about. This one though… Maybe Hydra had actually replaced your uterus with a tiny angry monster that was going to claw its way from your body Alien style. 

Around 3 a.m. you wake, your entire lower body screaming literal bloody murder. 

Slithering from the bed you’ve only one thought on your mind - hot, steaming, scalding water. Quickly you rid yourself of your wrecked underwear and turn on the shower. Leaning your head against the tile wall you let the water pound against your throbbing back, silently praying your body will stop this mutiny so you can get some sleep. 

 Tomorrow was a full day with classes and drills with the Dora Milaje, none of which you wanted to miss. There wasn’t time for this bullshit. 

Sighing you open your eyes, turning to face the water and catch a figure outside the steam covered shower glass. Logically, you know it’s Bucky but your tired foggy brain still sends a startled gasp tumbling out of your mouth. Some warrior you were. 

“Holy shit, Buck!” You exclaim, opening the door enough to see him. 

“Sorry!” He holds his hand up, face looking a little pale. “There was blood and - I just, I didn’t think.” 

Guilt and just the slightest bit of embarrassment flood you. In the grip of the pain, you hadn’t even thought to check the bed. Of course, his mind would go to the darkest option first upon seeing blood. 

“No, it’s ok.” You move to turn off the water, “I’ll deal with it. Sorry.” His hand stops yours. When you look back that kind smile is on his lips, it always sucked your breath right from your chest. 

“There’s nothing for you to deal with. Take your time.” He must read the defiance in your expression. “If you’re not in this shower for at least 10 more minutes I’m dragging you back into it myself.” 

“That sounds like a challenge,” you quip before a stab of pain makes you groan. He kisses your knuckles and leaves you to the steamy room. 

When you finally turn off the water, a little pruney but feeling a bit better you find one of Bucky’s shirts and a fresh pair of underwear on the counter. This man. Toweling your hair you step out to thank him only to see him remaking the bed with fresh sheets. 

“Babe,” you protest, “you didn’t have to-”

“Hush.” He gestures to a steaming mug on your bedside table. “It’s the tea Okoye gave me, the relaxing one.” Before you can say anything he reads your mind, “I know you hate tea but drink it anyway.”

“Just hot leaf juice,” you grumble with a smile on your face as you lift the mug to your nose to smell the contents. Earthy and slightly floral. 

“Coffee is technically hot bean juice,” he says, putting a pillow back in its case. 

“Blasphemy! I demand a divorce.”

He rolls his eyes, “Maybe when the sun’s out. Get in bed.”

“But my hot leaf juice,” you say in a false whine. He settles his back against the padded headboard, arm held out. 

“You can bring your leaf juice, just come here.” 

With a sigh, you crawl into bed. Bucky holds you tight, your back to his chest. You sip your tea, begrudgingly admitting that it wasn’t the worst and seemed to be coaxing your tense muscles into submission. 

“Thank you for changing the sheets,” you say, voice groggy. 

“Of course, doll. Anything else I can do?” You shake your head, tucked under his chin. “Here,” he plucks the half-empty mug from your hands, setting it on his nightstand. 

He scootches you both down into the warm fresh bed. Your head rests on his chest and unerringly your right-hand finds it’s way over to the steady beat of his heart, the feeling of its rhythm under your palm always soothing. 

Before you drift off you hear him whisper, “Sleep well, sweetheart.” 

Your alarm is an unholy sound scant hours later. 

“Not yet,” you grumble - hand flopping to turn it off. 

“Not at all,” Bucky says, his own voice still thick with sleep. 

“I have to-”

“You ‘aveta’ nothin’,” a bit of that long lost accent slips out. Even in your exhausted state, it makes you smile. “You need to rest.”

“Bucky,” you sit up, “it’s a period, not the flu I will be-”

“Staying home. Glad we agree.” He hooks his arm around you tugging you to him.

“I need to at least let Okoye know-”

“I told her last night. Now. Sleep.” 

You do. Hard and deep. When you awake it’s to the familiar smell of bacon and the sound of Bucky, singing softly along to the Beetles in the kitchen - the words to “Hey Jude” clear.

The only dark spot on the otherwise perfect moment was the feeling that you were still being torn at from the inside. Quietly you swear that this is the last time - whatever you have to do you’ll do it to keep this beast at bay moving forward. 

Before going to the kitchen you fist one of Bucky’s flannel button-ups from the closet and slip it on over your tee. The familiar scent so soothing. 

“Morning gorgeous,” Bucky beams at you as you walk into the kitchen. 

“Haha,” you say. You’d seen yourself in the mirror. Shit was rough. 

Turning from his pan he catches you before you get your mug. His blue eyes glitter causing your heart skips several beats. When he kisses you he tastes like coffee and love and home. 

“You are always beautiful to me, Y/N.” 

You smile so big your cheeks hurt, “Sap.” Batting him away playfully you pour a mug of coffee. 

“Go on and have a seat,” he says pulling the bacon out. “The eggs’ll be quick.” 

You perch cross-legged at the little two-seater table, unable to hold back a contented sigh.

Eggs plated he brings the food to the table. Your heart swells, as it does any time he makes you breakfast, always reminding you of the first morning you spent together. 

“One more thing,” he heads back into the kitchen and pulls out something from the oven, covered in foil. 

“Pancakes?!” You stare in mouthwatering wonder. 

“Yup,” he says smugly, reaching into a cabinet to produce syrup. He tops off your coffee before settling down.

“I say we eat, take a nap, eat again, maybe watch something. I’ll cook dinner, and-”

“You’re going to cook dinner?” You ask, more than a little surprised. Bucky was pretty confident in the breakfast realm but dinner was a different thing. 

“I’ve been learning!” He protests. It was true, he often joined you in the kitchen, though he tended to be a bit frustrated by your inability to give clear instructions. His face softens as he reaches his hand across the table to stroke the back of your hand. 

“Let me take care of you.” It’s not a question. He’s learned that sometimes he has to match your stubborn self-sufficiency with his own immovable will. And for your part, you’re learning that it’s not so bad to let someone take the wheel from time to time. 

You smile and nod, surprisingly happy to let go and bask in the comfort of his care.

@bluegirlusa1  @l0kisbitch  @tazzi-baby  @disagreetoagree  @woodyandbuzz20-01  @mooniightbucky   @saundrasays  @breezy1415  @alyssaj23  @mywinterwolf  @wonderlandmind4​  @fairislesheets  @anamcg317​  @buckaroo-barnes​  @jazztherebel​  @peachthatdrinkslemonade​  @regulusirius​   @auskitty​ @babyimp1967​ @katecolleen​  @handplucked​  @stevehesaidabadlanguageword​  @darkdragonphoenix​  @issanitydead​  @thestorydetective​  @buckysstar​  @wintersoldierswhore  @greyeyedsmile14​  @watchoutforfrostbite​  @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​  @jewelofwinter​  @siriuslycloudy2​  @hardygal69​  @marvelousmeggi  @jdoenson​  @gamorazenn​ @wildmoonflower​ @cutie1365​ @demonlover87​ @winterboobearsworld @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @damnaged-princess