#How Can I Stop My Cat Peeing On The Carpet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beerecordings · 8 months

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Look we all know Mr. Higgins is the real star of the new comics. Here is a fic about him adopting Marvin, all while Marvin finds himself struggling desperately against the memory control of the Magic Circle. Written after Altrverse #0, extrapolations are probably not canon to anything. Thanks for reading, let me know if you enjoy!

The excitement of a new book always fills him with verve enough to keep him up late into the night. His shop is warm, a green fire burning without wood or fuel along the back wall, and his scalp tingles with every new sigil passing through his vision.

The fact that it's an extremely illegal book to own only makes it more exciting for Marvin.

He's almost laid out over the counter, bent low over the pages, his free hand wrapped around a third mug of hot mint tea – got to have something to go with the book, after all – when the door to the shop jingles. He'd meant to lock up for the night, but he hadn't managed to tear himself away. “Come in!” he calls distractedly, pressing his hand over a complex sigil shaped like a pair of antlers.

No footsteps sound. Marvin looks up quickly, his mind conjuring images of the twins in full regalia in his doorway, ready to strip him of his power for the transgression of his black magic book, but no one's there.

He can't decide if that's worse or better.

“Hello?” he calls, voice sharpening. He can handle most magicians, and certainly any civilians. But if this is the Magic Circle trying games with him, he won't be playing. “Reveal yourself.”

Something shifts by the bookshelf closest to the door. Marvin gets to his feet, book forgotten, and fixes his mask back over his face. He'll address this head on. He summons a spell and transports the four feet to be on the other side of his bookshelf, purple light gleaming for a second in his wake, alighting on his hand markings.

“Meow?” says a little grey and white cat.

Marvin stops short, mouth falling open in delight. The tension rushes out of him so fast his face feels cold. He claps his hands together and falls to his knees. “Hello, there, darling, aren't you a pretty sight? I wouldn't have thought a cat could get through that door, or you wouldn't have set me so on alert, you know! You must have really wanted in.”

He glances up at the door. Really, how did a cat push through that? The cat mewls at him again.

“Oh, come here, poor thing.”

He scratches his fingers against the carpet. The cat looks at him with interest, sitting down beside his shelves. It has remarkably clear eyes, blinking languidly at him, tail flicking. It's so calm Marvin just approaches it, putting a hand on its head and stroking down its grey back. It closes its eyes and purrs minutely, completely unhurried.

“Yes, there's a good little creature,” Marvin laughs. He pulls his hand away at a tacky sensation and finds his palm coated in dirt and dust. He sits petting the cat for several minutes, until the creature flops onto its side and exposes its belly to him. It's a male cat, purring loudly at him now, those cute paws folded in the air. Marvin laughs.

“You are a sight for sore eyes. But I can't have you tearing up the carpet or peeing on my books, kitten. Tell you what, I'll get you something to eat from upstairs and set it outside for you. Okay? Be right back.”

He heads upstairs to his flat and gets into the fridge, setting several strips of deli meat onto a plate for the cat. Maybe he'll take some pictures of the little guy as he eats. It would be nice to have a cat coming around every now and then. He had cats as a kid, in his family home, before he had to... well, before everything that happened. He loved them enough to shape his mask after them, but he's never had the free time for a pet. At this point, he's not even sure he has the safety for a pet. If the Circle finds out...

Well. Seeing as he himself isn't even aware of what he's doing half the time, he's hoping the chances of being discovered are slim.

Marvin sighs and heads back downstairs, clicking his tongue at the cat as he walks to the door and opens it. He sets the dish on the ground, but the cat hasn't moved, just looking at him from the carpet inside.

“Oh, you're comfy there, are you?” Marvin chuckles. “I understand. But you better have something to eat. Come here, then.”

The cat doesn't get up. Marvin sighs again, stepping over to him. “Sorry, my darling, but you can't stay in here.”

He leans down to pick the cat up. He doesn't struggle at all – well-behaved little thing – but as Marvin sets a foot outside, he sees a droplet of dark grey appear on the pavement beside it.

He frowns and looks up. A drop of water strikes his cheek.

“Really, right now?”

He's used to UK rain, but it's only a moment or two later that a full torrential downpour is pushing him back inside the shop. He curses and grabs the deli meat, pulling the dish inside. The cat leans down and delicately begins eating.

“Oh, lucky bugger,” Marvin says, shaking his head. “You're sure you're not a magic spy cat or something? A man disguised as a cat to trick me?”

The cat finishes the turkey and leans down to begin licking his anus.

“Alright, yeah, not a spy.”

Marvin looks out at the rain, coming down aggressively onto the awning and beating a cold rhythm through the shop. The cat polishes himself up politely at Marvin's feet. Poor dirty thing. Maybe he has an owner who's looking for him.

“Alright, then,” Marvin says, leaning down to pick the cat up once more. “You can stay just for tonight, while I figure out what to do with you.”

The cat pushes its head into his chin and purrs.

"Why do you have this? Where did you get it?"

"Would you just look?"

Sunday chooses to look up at him instead, something between astonishment and dismay arguing on his face. "Marvin..."

Marvin sighs out and taps the front of the book. "I have some contacts from my old mentor. They found this for me."

"Marvin, Ramesses wasn't exactly the kind of magician the Circle would approve of."

"You think I don't know that?"

Sunday sighs and rubs at the ear of his mask - a pretty cute form of self-soothing, really. After a moment, he flicks open the pages of the book.

"How's your memory today?" Marvin asks, trying not to sound too strained.

"What do you mean, my memory?"

"Do you remember that the Circle has been wiping things from our heads?" Marvin insists, clutching at the table.

Sunday's eyes flicker. "Right. That's... why we're looking at things like this."

"Right," Marvin agrees, relieved. "That's why we need help from magicians like Ramesses. Ones who know what's really going on. We need to find a way to keep them out of our heads."

It's dangerous stuff, but he and Sunday have had that discussion. Marvin has to trust that he's going to stay on board even as both of their memories ebb and flow. He desperately needs someone to help him remember. It's infuriating, knowing that the people who are supposed to be helping magicians are just taking control of them instead. Marvin won't be their puppet.

"This is the spell you're looking at?" asks Sunday.

"Yes. To protect someone from mind magic."

"You can't cast that alone."

"Help me, then!"

"We can't cast this alone," Sunday corrects. "You would need a huge group or an artifact."

"I have some magical artifacts."

"Not ones with enough power."

"Sunday, please."

"Marvin." His friend looks up at him sharply. "I know how deep we are in over our heads, but that's why we must be careful. You don't even know if this spell will work. It could harm you, change you, burn you out. Start with some of the smaller ones... look, this can imbue an object with the magic to see things for you. A looking glass of its own. And I'm sure you've been scrying."

Marvin grits his teeth. Yes, he's been scrying. All he sees is black wisps and red eyes through the darkness. Something is coming, and he can't stop it without knowing his mind is secure. He needs to expel the twins from the Magic Circle, needs to have a group of magicians he can trust, needs to -

"Marvin," says Sunday again. "You're working yourself up."

His sigils are glowing. He turns away bitterly, clutching his hands into fists.

"We're going to figure it out," Sunday says wearily. "You have to believe that. But you can't hurt yourself."

He sets the book down. "I need to get going. Not all of us get to run our own bookstores. I'll text you tomorrow after work, okay?"

"Fine," says Marvin. "Fine."

"Whoa, wait, is this yours?"

Marvin looks over to see the stray cat coming out of his bedroom, sitting down beside Sunday to regard him warily. It meows at him loudly enough that Sunday chuckles.

"No, I just took him in for a couple nights," Marvin sighs. "Trying to find his owner."

"And if he doesn't have one?"

"I don't know." He really doesn't. The cat's super cute, but Marvin has a lot going on. "I don't think I've got time for a cat. I get a little focused on one thing at a time."

Sunday gives him a look of disbelief. "A little?"

"Oh, shut it."

Sunday rubs the cat's head for a moment before standing. "We'll figure this out," he repeats. "Don't lose hope."

"I need you to give me some," Marvin says wearily.

Sunday touches his shoulder and grins at him, just as tired, but there's nothing more he can say. Once he's gone, Marvin sinks onto the couch, sighing deep. The cat jumps up beside him.

"You want to switch places?" Marvin asks, reaching out to scratch his chin. "I'll sleep and eat all day and you can go back to a place where you know you'll be brainwashed every time they call for you. You don't know how sick it makes me... but then, of course, I forget, and I'm theirs again."

He almost sinks in on himself, then, just wanting to melt into the couch. But the cat gets into his lap and meows at him, and the stink of his breath makes him laugh and pull back, and he sits up and pets him for a while instead of crumpling into his own dismay.

“Well, he's not got fleas or ticks or anything.”

The vet runs her hands professionally over the disgruntled cat, looking through his fur and petting his head. He turns to Marvin like he's expecting him to come help, and Marvin stifles a laugh. He's an expressive cat, really. Must have been good at begging for scraps.

“Really, none?”

“No," says the vet. "Why, did you see some?”

“No, it's just, I figured a stray cat would have one. You sure he's not chipped either?”

“No chip,” the vet confirms, running her hands over the cat. “How long have you had him?”

“Five days now. I called the animal shelter and posted online in case anyone is looking for him.”

“You can check our board in case someone's posted that he's lost.”

“Alright, will do.”

“But he's neutered and all, so you don't have to worry about that.”

“Good,” says Marvin emphatically. “I've never met such a headstrong cat. I don't think he'd let anybody get down there with scissors.”

“Oh, but he's such a well-mannered little boy,” coos the vet, petting the cat's head. The cat purrs.

“Yeah, now,” Marvin laughs. “But if you do something he doesn't like, he will let you know. I think he's capable of revenge.”

They have a laugh about it and the vet gets ready to give him some shots. When she gets out a syringe, the cat raises his butt like he's ready to bolt, but Marvin grabs his scruff sharply and leans down to chide him.

“Everybody has to get shots, Higgins,” he says. “You behave. You can't come home if you're not healthy.”

“Oh, no, you've named him,” smiles the vet.

Marvin puffs out a sigh. “I have, haven't I? I didn't mean to. But doesn't he look just like a little Mr. Higgins? Who's the prettiest boy?”

Mr. Higgins shoots him a disgruntled look, but he allows the vet to pin him down gently and give him his shots. Soon as they're done, he nips Marvin's thumb with his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” says Marvin, pushing him back into the carrier. “We'll check the board and then get you home.”

He's still not sure he wants a cat, but Higgins keeps trying to sleep in his bed, so Marvin figured he'd be responsible and get him checked over before they both get fleas. "You might not get to stick around forever," he tells the cat. "But I'll take care of you while you do."

But as he gets out to the reception of the vet's clinic, looking at their board of announcements and missing pet posters, he realizes he doesn't mind having the cat around. And this is how people get cats, right? They just take one in for a night, and then the cat adopts you. It's not like there's much going on for him right now, anyone. Things are good at the shop and with the Magic Circle. Everything's -

Higgins lets out a meow so loud other people turn to look at him, and so does Marvin, surprised. He's reminded of Higgins meowing at Sunday, who was over at his place to - to what?

To look at that black magic book...

Which he got because... because... why? Why is he looking at magic like that?

Higgins meows again, a little strangled. Marvin looks into his big, languid cat's eyes. Because...

The Circle is fucking with his head.

The realization hits him like a baseball in the chest, but even as it does, he knows this isn't the first time he's realized it. They keep making him forget - forget - forget.

He's a fucking puppet.

Marvin pushes himself out of the vet's office, vision blurry with frustrated tears.

"It keeps happening," he says to Higgins, voice tight. "I can't make them stop."

Higgins looks up at him from his carrier. The cat's quiet now, not struggling or meowing. Just looking at him.

"Yeah, you might not want me for an owner," sighs Marvin. "Fucked up head and a fucked up mess I can't seem to get myself out of."

Higgins lets out one little meow. Okay. That's pretty cute too. Marvin tries to get over himself. The self-pity won't help. Maybe, when he gets home, he can focus on getting Higgins a treat instead, since he was such a little gentleman at the vet.

Knowing that Sunday is right about the spell he wants to try doesn't it make it any easier to resist.

In fact, he thinks it makes it harder. Who is Sunday to tell Marvin what he's capable of?

He's always had that proud streak, and he knows it. Wanting to be the best at everything has served Marvin well in some parts of his life, but he's also been called cocky, overzealous, and, on one occasion, "basically a rat going to town on a Cheeto when it comes to magic," and all for good reason.

Higgins has hopped up on the kitchen counter, sitting beside the black magic book. Everytime Marvin looks over at it, he meows pointedly. If he didn't know better, he'd say the little miscreant was trying to warn him away too.

"It's just a spell," Marvin tells him, pacing around his living room. "I've never died trying stupid spells before. And I have tried some damn powerful spells."

He's good at powerful spells. He's a powerful fucking sorceror. It's why he was picked for this, mentored so intensely, sculpted to be better, better, better. The Magic Circle has its rules, but it should never have become a means to control him or restrain him. They can't take his own mind for him. He won't allow it!

"No one else is doing anything about it," he says to Higgins. "Sunday's the only one who's been able to hear me out and not forget everything the very next day. And even him, I have to remind again and again, and he has to remind me."

Higgins says "mrrp."

"Well, it's not like I can just leave the Magic Circle! All magical authority comes from them, and the twins - well. I have a lot to learn from the twins. Things the outsiders will never have access to. No, I need to be the one to take this all down from the inside. I'll cleanse it with fire if I have to! Or else - or else what will happen? We'll all be their slaves forever."

No. No. He won't be their tool. He grabs the black book. Higgins yowls.

"There is food for you in your bowl," Marvin chides him, heading towards the stairs. "Stay up here!"

Higgins tries to follow him down to the shop, and Marvin has to push him away with his foot, closing the door on him. Higgins makes a noise that can't be anything other than annoyed.

"Needy thing," Marvin chides, heading down the stairs, but it's soon gone from his mind. He's really going to try a new spell, one that might exorcise the twins's control over him. There's no rush like this, he loves it. New books, new spells, new magic. This is what he was born and trained for.

"Sunday doesn't know what I can do," Marvin says, putting his book down on his desk. This time, he makes sure the door to the shop is locked. "And neither do the fucking twins."

Mensprotego, not the original name of the spell, to be sure. It's Romanian in origin and the name is just some Latin combination of phrases given to it to lend it a feeling of power. But Marvin knows the real power of it as he traces the words over the spell. He draws his sigils with precision - he should have known when he was practicing the unfamiliar ones that he would always end up trying this alone - and sticks a mandrake leaf against the roof of his mouth, as the spell instructs. For extra energy, he'll use Ramesses's old staff.

It's good to grip it in his hands again. Even after all this time, he still thinks he can feel his mentor with him every time he holds it. Sometimes, he even gets the nostalgic smell of fire and the Vaseline he would smear over his scarring.

"Help me once again," he asks, pulling the staff over to his counter.

The power rushes up over him like a wave of water as he starts to speak. It's a strange sort of spell, the way it coasts over him, like it's sending sparks into him, a mini electrification that keeps repeating across his body - and keeps getting stronger. He wets his lips and keeps going. He's more used to magic that makes you feel tired as you use too much, but this! This is invigorating. His heart starts to pound. He can feel it against his chest. The electricity feeling makes him cramp, his fingers squeezing at the staff, and then his tongue sticks to his mouth. Wow. It kind of makes it hard to move. Kind of hurts.

Another wave of it grips him, and he pauses, breathing out and giving himself the chance to stop.

But then what will happen? Nothing. Things will keep going as they are. He can't take it. He has to keep going. To keep trying something new.

"I will not be yours," he whispers, and, clearing his throat, speaks the last words of the spell.

Everything explodes with light, blinding him, and a hot, raw pain bursts across him, his whole body lit up with purple markings, his eyes aglow, though he cannot see through them. He gasps and his body tries to crumple, but another wave of it crosses over him, shocking him stiff, unable to even collapse. Still, he clings to the spell, to the magic, vying hard for protection. If he can just get free, nothing else matters. He'll recover later, won't he? If he can just protect himself -

Something sharp clenches down on his ankle and he yells. The different kind of pain snaps him out of everything, and he drops Ramesses's staff, falling to his knees, still blind to all but his own light.

The electricity stops, but he thinks his brain might have short-circuited with it. He feels himself start to shake - maybe even to seize - he drops to the ground -

He loses consciousness to the sound of something scraping at his sigils with its claws.

Marvin wakes to the heavy smell of blood in his nose, and his fingers come up towards it instinctively, shaky and unsure.

"Ungh," he groans, shifting against the cold wood of his shop's backroom. He spits out a mandrake leaf, smacking his tongue at the odorous taste.

Marvin tries to push his glasses back into place, only to find the right temple snapped off its hinge, the glass cracked at the side. He pulls them off his face and sits up.

It makes his head rush painfully. Owch. There's blood all the way from his nose to his chin.

Okay, okay. Fine. He went way too far. Sunday's right, he's pushing too hard. Worse, he's not sure what would have happened if he didn't have that sharp pain.

He pulls his ankle up to himself as he sits down. Wait - that is distinctly a cat bite.

Setting his leg down, he lets his head thump back in surprise. Higgins saved him. Did he know he was in distress, or just get scared by the light and shaking?

"Higgs?" he calls. "You here?"

No little feet come padding towards him. He drags himself onto his feet - his poor head, owch - and stumbles towards the bathroom, washing his face off and swishing water around his mouth to clear out the copper taste.

"Maybe I don't tell Sunday about this," he mutters. He's made himself sick for certain. He won't feel well in the morning either. What's he going to do? Just -- with all of it, what is he doing?

The tears prick up against his will and he scowls at himself in the mirror, brushing at his eyes with the un-bloodied side of a washcloth. He strikes the flat of his palm against the bathroom counter and breathes. He can't let the twins or the council keep misusing their magic. He promised Ramesses he'd find a way.

But honestly, he just really wants to sleep for about twelve years or so. Feels like that would fix everything. Why does all this have to be on his shoulders alone?

"Not crying, we are not crying about this," he announces to himself, tossing the washcloth in the sink and stepping back into his living room. He crashes onto his couch and his head swims again from the movement. He covers his face from the light and breathes out slowly.

"Meow."

It's a very professional little meow, no wailing or pleading involved. Marvin pulls his arm away from his eyes and blinks towards the floor, where Higgins looks up at him carefully.

"Meow," he repeats.

"You want up here?" asks Marvin. He pats the little space beside his stomach. "You can come on."

Higgins doesn't move, peering up at him. He has eyes like a little man sometimes. Marvin prefers him playing, when his pupils get dilated huge and he just looks like the cute dumbass he's supposed to be.

"Yes, alright, I went too far," Marvin sighs. "What, are you angry? I'm sorry."

Higgins wraps his tail daintily around himself, blinking. Marvin sits up with a sigh and reaches for him.

Higgins say "mrrp" a little irritably, but he lets Marvin pull him onto his stomach and set him down there, stroking his head. After a few quiet minutes, Higgins settles and starts to purr gently.

"What a good boy," Marvin murmurs, scratching his ears as he lies back. "Did you know I needed help?"

Higgins looks at him with slitted eyes, rumbling.

"You got me out of that," Marvin continues. "You've never bit me like that before. Did I scare you? I'm sorry."

Higgins gets up slightly and Marvin mourns the loss of the warmth. But his cat doesn't hop off the couch. He just clambers higher up Marvin and pushes his soft head into his neck.

Marvin's face creases and the tears burn his eyes again. He blinks rapidly and wraps his arms around the hot little body of his cat.

"There's my good boy," Marvin rasps, holding him close. "My hero, aren't you? What a good cat."

He hugs Higgins close to him, closing his eyes, and for several minutes interrupted only by steady purring, he does cry. Maybe it's okay. No one's here to see him, and he'll feel better afterwards. Higgins licks the salt from his beard.

"Thank you, lovey," Marvin purrs back to him, scratching his back. "I know someone's got my back, don't I?"

Higgins meows loudly at him and Marvin laughs, wiping his face.

"Yuck, cat breath. You must be hungry. I'll fill your bowl, okay? And I better get something for me, too. Maybe a treat tonight. You think there are delivery places open twenty-four seven?"

Apparently it's not abnormal for someone to want pad see-ew at two in the morning, because his food comes less than fifteen minutes later. It hurts his head to go down the stairs, but it's euphoric to crash on his couch with several hot boxes of takeout arrayed on his coffee table. He puts on a Ghibli flick and spaces out hard, kept in the moment just by the sweet noodles and broccoli, the flashing colors of a movie he's seen a hundred times, and his cat, who jumps right back onto his lap and tries to get his head into the takeout box. Marvin lets him have a little too much chicken, but he's such a good boy, he deserves it. It's nice, really. It's nice to have this cat, purring on his chest as he sinks towards a deep sleep.

He thinks Higgins is asleep too.

Marvin wakes up feeling sick.

"Oh, my darling," he groans, feeling Higgins move as he does. "What did I do last night?"

He sits up slowly, glancing around his living room. He got take-out? He's usually so strict about eating at home. Did he drink?

"Well, I must have," he breathes, standing. He goes to his kitchen, but there's nothing out, no empty bottles or discarded lids. There's nothing in the trash out of the ordinary either. He didn't go out, right? He checks his phone, but he hasn't talked to anyone since yesterday. He wasn't out with friends, and he's sure he had no one over.

He's still trying to figure out what happened as he heads towards the bathroom, but the bloody washcloth in the sink stops him short. Marvin shakes his head, bewildered, and a little worried too, now. What is going on?

Higgins meows at him. He glances down at his cat. Higgins moves between his legs and then, apropos of nothing, puts his little teeth in Marvin's heel.

"Ow! Higgins! You - you bit me..."

He was trying that spell last night. He made himself sick with overuse. Higgins bit his ankle.

"Oh, oh," he whimpers, trying not to spiral. "They have such a grip on my memory I even forgot my own endeavors. They're in my house. In my head. I can't... I can't, I..."

He sinks down to his knees, shaking. His fingers press against the cold tile floor, and he sucks in shaking breaths, the fury and the terror passing over and through him like a great wave of heat.

"No more," he snarls, striking his hand against the floor. "No more of this. I will remember anything they take from me. Again and again, as much as I lose, I will get it back no matter what. I'll remember. And then I'll fight."

He turns his head and presses his hand against his cat's head. Higgins looks up at him with those sharp eyes, his fur soft against the palm of his hand.

"And you're going to help me, aren't you, my darling?"

He really does think that he sees that cat nod in that moment. The oddest part is, it doesn't even really surprise him.

"Right, then," Marvin breathes, his panic clearing. "Right. Back on your feet, Marvin, and no more sulking. Anyway, you got to get the cat fed."

Higgins' eyes dilate and his tail stands straight up. Marvin finds himself laughing despite everything.

"Okay, okay. One thing at a time."

He kisses his cat on the head, and goes to get him his breakfast. The rest will come - and he'll be ready.

#altrverse #higgins the cat #marvin the magnificent #jacksepticeye

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windowsandfeelings · 1 year

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dair & 12 on the kiss prompts??

Dair & ...in grief

They get the call on a Thursday to come pick up the box. They go together.

It’s just plain brown corrugated cardboard with a paw-print inked on the side and a label reading “Hadley Waldorf-Humphrey.” The receptionist sets it down on the counter in front of them, and Blair stares at it while Dan signs all the paperwork. Somehow, the box seems both too big and too small for its contents, and she can’t bring herself to reach out and pick it up.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” the receptionist says. It sounds to Blair like she’s on the other side of a glass wall.

“Thank you,” Dan says. He slides the box into a New Yorker tote and takes Blair’s hand. “Let’s go.” His voice is low, his head bent to the side, his mouth close to her ear, and she lets him lead her out of the small veterinary clinic, onto a steaming Upper East Side sidewalk.

They cut west down 66th. The streets are quiet, most of the neighborhood off in the Hamptons for the holiday weekend. They slide into the park near the zoo, where it’s five degrees cooler in the shade, the tiniest bit of relief from the oppression of late summer, and it’s an easy walk to the duck pond. The tote bag bangs against Dan’s hip, but he doesn’t complain. He keeps a tight grip on her hand, squeezing it every few minutes.

They find a secluded spot on the edge of the pond, between a couple of trees and largely out of sight, and for a moment they just stand there, hand in hand, looking out over the water. Then Dan reaches into the tote bag and pulls out the box.

The box that isn’t Hadley, not really.

Blair can still feel the soft brush of Hadley against her ankles, the scratch of Hadley’s tongue on the back of her hand. She was a small cat, made more of fur and personality than anything else; prone to dramatically flinging herself at the floor, the furniture, Dan’s lap. Fond of napping in the bathroom sink, burying herself in pillows, hissing at unwelcome guests. They’d acquired her in the first month of their marriage, on a whim one Saturday afternoon. She was already a lady, grown as big as she’d ever get. Had already lived a life before they brought her into theirs.

They’d carried her home in a cardboard box that day, too.

Dan lets go of her hand to tear at the corner of the box, where it’s glued shut. There’s a plastic bag inside, but there’s some loose dust—what’s left of her delicate bones, her plush fur, her pink nose—that clings to his fingers, and some more that drifts away in a breeze. Blair can feel hot tears climbing her throat, pushing their way to the surface, but she swallows them down. “We should say something,” she says. “First.”

Dan nods. “What do you want to say?” he asks.

Well, she hasn’t thought about it, how to sum up Hadley into words. “I—” she starts, but whatever else she wants to stay is stuck somewhere below the tears. She shakes her head.

“Remember the time we had Serena over?” Dan asks. He’s just holding the box, now, out in front of him, one corner of the flap peeled up. “It was like a week after we got her, and we were spending all of our time chasing her around the apartment trying to stop her from peeing on the furniture, and you forgot you’d invited Serena to dinner and she showed up and found us on our knees scrubbing the carpet in my office.”

Blair nods. At the time it felt like such a low moment for her, cleaning up cat urine.

“Or when Hadley fell completely in love with Nate and tried to surgically attach herself to him so he couldn’t leave without her?”

Blair had to buy Nate a new sweater after that, to replace the one Hadley shredded.

“And then when she realized Jenny actually did get to go home with Nate and never forgave her?”

A laugh makes it through the tears, bubbling up out of Blair’s mouth. She can still picture it: Hadley hissing at Jenny in the foyer and Jenny hissing right back.

“She was a good cat,” Blair says. It comes out with a single sharp sob.

Dan steps closer to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders, and she presses her face into his neck. Her tears pool where her mouth meets the cotton of his crew-neck tee. He kisses her, featherlight, at her hairline. Once. Twice. “She was such a good cat,” he says into her hair.

She pulls herself together one breath at a time, until she can step away from him, stand on her own. She slides one finger under each eye, flicking away the tears that have gathered in her lashes. Dan waits for, her, not-Hadley still clutched in one hand.

“I’m ready now,” she says. She’s not, not really, but she’ll pretend.

With one hard yank, Dan gets the edge of the box off, enough to get to the plastic bag inside. They crouch down together at the edge of the water.

“Goodbye, Hadley,” she says, as the ashes pour out into the duck pond. Some of them saturate, and sink, and some float away from them, a little gray bubble drifting off into Central Park.

“Bye, Had,” Dan echoes.

Blair swallows, and takes his hand, and together they watch her go.

#kiss prompts #gossip girl #dair #I felt bad asking you for a kiss prompt when I never responded to yours :)#hadley for hemingway's wife #blair named her #also I cut the specific mention of the aspca on 92nd but in my head that's where they got her #it's also where I got Poppy

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star-vibing-prompts · 1 year

Text

Random shit I had or others had said as prompts.

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of sus, dark humor(probably), dark themes(also probably), Sensitive topics

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

"Motherfucker is high on cat nip at the top."

"Imma just kick this fish then-"

"Let me sleep with you!"

"STOP CREAMING YOURSELF"

"Let me throw your child!"

"I smacked a bad guy's booty."

"That was a good ass slap!"

"Give me all these delicious batteries!"

"Everybody died in this family!"

"I JUST SHOT HER BODY WITH MY GUN-"

"I DIDNT EVEN KNOW I HAD BALLS STILL!"

"I got stuff on my neck!"

"Be honest, am I hot?" "I'M GAY-"

"IMMA WHIP OUT MY BEANS ESSAY"

"Not the duckussy"

"Already sus gonna hide in the ooc"

"Okay I got my happiness, bye"

"I like me some Among Us"

"Can someone hold me please"

"[Name] stop searching. I wanna search something up to on him!"

"IS HE WRITING A FANFIC OML"

"I KNOW BUT WHEN I LAUGH I SOMEHOW CHOKE ACK-"

"You're more grosser than I am."

"Ohh~ Hee got the rizz~"

"OKAY BACK TO CRYING"

"I love dying screaming"

"IM CRYING WHAT DID WE JUST WALK IN ON???"

"I will slap myself if I say something sus"

"Let her scream lmao."

"Being force to talk by a 14 year old"

"Such a beautiful break up"

"STOP RIZZING ME"

"Anyway does anyone want to get slap by me?"

"Damn she hot"

"THE FUCK WOMAN???"

"DAMN I AM A LONELY BITCH"

"Actually *SHITTING* himself would be pooping. *PISSING* himself would be peeing."

"Why did you eat mah stick?"

"STOP EATING POOP???? WHOS POOP EVEN IS THAT???"

"I- Wha- ho- ...MY BRAIN CANT HANDLE THISI-"

"I think u just pissed him up even more"

"And why are you creaming [Name]?" "Damn tell me how you really feel about the cream jesus"

"One of them is: What the fuck is going on at this point and why am I still here for it?"

"I just love killing people!"

"I want to fuck Optimus Prime."

"Allergies are kicking me ass"

"I would've given you some but you didn't talk fast enough /j"

"[NAME] PLEASE I BE SILLY"

"I SWEAR ON [NAME] IT AINT ME"

"Why is [Name] robbing [Name2]"

"Enjoy your last peaceful moments"

"You were the chosen one"

"Then speak it"

"And [Name] just set himself on fire"

"I feel like I am being judged now,,,,,bye." *disappears*

"The shame has already been done there is no going back"

"My mom used to buy me robux before she mcfucking died"

"I BROKE MY STICK"

"THEY DONT KNOW WHAT GOES ON BEHIND CLOSED DOORS"

"My gaydar told me"

"What the fuck are smiley fries."

"Rice with beef broth because we have no chicken"

"Anime cat girls are canon within Spongebob now."

"The Cat Has Ingested The Wall"

"Split dat chicken wingg"

"Oeuur... digs chicken wing out of the carpet"

SHRIEKS AND BREAKS IN THROUGH A WINDOW

"They have been bestowed the name [New name]"

"I love the fumbling with the remote"

"Literally vibrating in my chair, I’m really excited for the game"

"That's so sad imagine someone hated you so much they wouldn't even spend more than 5 bucks to hire a hitman"

"Bro's gonna be willing to die after that"

"FLOOFY AND GOOBER"

"I wanna invite them for tea and crumpets

The best type of relationship"

"ILL FORFEIT ALL MY LEGAL POSSESSIONS TO HIM"

"Like damn dude you don't need THAT much eye liner"

"This is so emo"

"My dude needs to look fabulous"

"WHAT A GOOBER ! FOOLISH LITTLE FELLOW"

"OMG ITS MY KID"

"LIL GUY IS SPEEDY ASF"

"They got a little too silly"

"ITTY BITTY"

"They just need to put some ice on it"

"Aww noo they spilled the cranberry juice" :(

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froggieco · 2 years

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PLEASE DONT SCROLL!

(UPDATED)

This is my boy Charlie

If you give me your ear I'd like to tell you his story.

I found Charlie at a shelter in 2019 and I fell in love right away. As I was getting to know him the workers told me that he had come and gone from the shelter often, the most recent time coming back from a family with small children who tormented him. On the white patch on his chest there was a blue stain from a sucker that was stuck to him. One of his previous owners had claimed he was so aggressive that they completely declawed him. This poor baby had been picked up and dumped in 7 years. Needless to say I couldn't leave him there.

When I brought him home he was extremely skittish, not wanting to interact with anyone and hiding under my bed basically for 3 days. But it didn't discourage me, I sat on my floor putting food and water where he could get it and just calmly talking to him about anything. By the night of the third day he ended up jumping up on my bed and laying by me. Anytime I moved he would tense but eventually we both fell asleep.

It took a long time to build his trust but 4 years later and we have an unbreakable bond. Every second it took to build was worth more then I can imagine. It's cliche but it was really him who saved me.

The last year he's been having some weird behaviors, the most blatant one is peeing everywhere. I mean everywhere. He peened on beds, clothes, the carpet, just about anywhere but the litter box. I took him to the vet right away and found he had a UTI. Great, I can take care of that with antibiotics! But after he finished them he was still peeing outside the litter box. I thought then that maybe it was the stress of having two new dogs in the house, something behavioral. I did everything, got special litter, picking everything up, got hormone therapy, anxiety meds, spending extra time with him. Everything. None of it was working and I was at a complete loss. I had him checked for another UTI but it came back clear. Eventually I took him to a different vet and asked for a complete blood check because I knew something was wrong.

It turned out something was wrong. Charlie has diabetes. When I tell you I was heartbroken for taking so long to figure it out, thinking it was behavioral, thinking it was nothing but a UTI... words don't describe how guilty I feel. But I'm glad I caught it early, before I found him in keto acidosis. I'm very blessed

The only issue is I am in a horrible financial situation. I'm barely making by and a lot of the time I can't afford groceries. I never let this stop me from giving the best care to my pets, in fact that's where most of my time and money goes to (other then my own medical expenses as I have many disabilities). Instantly I knew I needed help affording insulin for him.

That's why I'm here. I have a GoFundMe that I will use to save up enough for a year of insulin. If I could get a year I'm hoping I can get out of my issue and save up enough to be able to afford it myself. I know it's a lot, I know it's a long shot but I'm hoping for a miracle. I know many people won't be able to donate but even if you just share this, I will be eternally grateful.

If you've made it this far, thank you so so much. Thank you for listening to me and I hope this is able to reach the people who can help me take care of my baby boy

PLEASE SHARE 💙

!!UPDATE!!

Hello everyone, I thought I would make an updated fundraiser as well as give more information to what I have learned over the year since making my original fundraiser.

Charlie is in heart failure. I still haven't accepted this, even while looking up treatments and seeing the life expectancy. I'm stretched thin with his diabetes treatment and I'm not sure what any heart treatments would be. He is my old man now, 11 years old and still has a car engine purr. This fundraiser is for insulin for a year, which I'm hoping to make the best year of his life.

I want to thank everyone who even took the time to read this, it truly means the world to me.

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symptoms-syndrome · 1 year

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Anyway. Rambling about Wolf Play related things, wolf related things, the whole. Animalism thing.

Part of me (little p, I think, who cares) wants to stop viewing myself as an animal. It's dehumanizing, the logic thinks. It's bad for my mental health and self respect etc for me to see myself as an animal. Other people saw me as an animal, and that hurt me. So I don't want to continue to hurt and dehumanize myself.

But a different part of me, my therapist told me, is afraid to let go of that. I need to be an animal because I don't know how to be a person. I know how to be an animal and that's safe. And the animal part of me knows how to keep myself safe. Or so it thinks.

Wolf Play. Is really important to me. Of course. It's where I got my name from. Everything that Wolf says I think and I believe. Almost everything. We're very similar. Especially when I was younger.

It also hurts. Seeing a child (even when the child is an adult actor and a puppet, the way they use the puppet and the actor as almost independent characters is really interesting and IMO very reflective of dissociation in many ways, in that the puppet is the body and the actor is the spirit/soul/what have you, there are moments where the other actors speak to the puppet or speak to the actor, or times where the puppet is separated from the actor) act that way hurts. I feel like I can see him, like actually see and understand him, he's a scared, lonely child and he lashes out to protect himself, he doesn't know how to behave because no one taught him, but he's treated by many of the adults in his life as a bad kid. Which. He does lash out. There's a point where he punches someone, but that someone was an adult man who was ignoring his boundaries, and he's a small child who's scared. He couldn't hurt an adult man even if he tried.

I want to hold him, or just sit with him. I want him to feel safe.

The good adults in Wolf's life accept him as a wolf-child. They play along with him, they howl with him at one point when he's upset that one of them got hurt, to share the pain. They give him the respect a human person deserves but in the form a wolf would accept. And that makes him feel safe and loved.

Maybe that's my issue. I've only been treated like an animal in a derogatory way. Maybe I need someone to treat my inner wolf kindly. Maybe I need someone to love me like I love my cat. Maybe that's easier than being loved like a person.

But it's hard. When I feel like a feral animal that needs to protect myself. Any hand extended to me I need to treat as a threat. "Wolves are masters of survival. We know that every living being, even the tiniest and weak-looking-est has the potential of poison."

Wolf...feels like an "un-trained" me. A me if I hadn't been so thoroughly trained into acceptable, family dog behavior. Wolf is my basest instincts that are always right below the heavy, thick blanket of training. It's almost like a threat. "If you don't do what you're taught, if you don't listen to the training I'm giving you, you'll act like that. You don't want to be like that, do you? You don't want to be a feral animal in good company, do you?" That's very much a message I was given. A threat of being just some wild animal if I didn't follow the rules.

I'm noticing the word more. Training. I never gave it any thought really. I guess I was surprised that others might find it odd. I don't know if that word was explicitly used for me or whether I just saw the parallels myself. But I genuinely don't know what else I would call any of it.

And like...I don't know. It sounds bad, to "train" a person I think. But you have to train a dog, it's good for them. If you don't train your dogs then they pee on carpets and bite people and break things and eat things that make them sick. I can't conceptualize a good future or potential me without having been trained. And dogs are still happy even when they're trained.

My grandparents trained their dogs very heavily. They even had commands for when/where to piss and didn't need a leash to go on walks. They went to their kennel when commanded and came out when commanded and you could put treats right in front of them and they'd wait to eat them until they were told. And they still seemed happy I think. That was sort of the model, I think. To be disciplined like the dogs. Have self restraint. Resist temptation. Don't be an animal, even though you are one.

Not that I remember what any of my training entailed. It's sort of a void. I just know I was trained and I know what I was taught but not how I was taught it. But I don't think it matters. Ends justify the means or whatever. I came out the other end not acting like an animal.

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ryanthedemiboy · 1 month

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T-0

Rest in piece little guy. 16½ and about a foot tall, loved his little couch next to my dad's. He loved cookies and candy corn and cat food, he had a sensitive stomach and hated nighttime without the tv on and playing something.

He loved walks and cuddling with my parents, licking inner elbows and faces (when he was near them).

He loved getting into everything, even when he was old, and he was terrified of my cats.

He loved squeaky toys before he lost his hearing, and loved getting them out of the little interactive storage thing.

Until he was 15, he could still jump up onto couches 3-4 times his height, as well as getting down.

He loved to roll in dead stuff and always stank because of it.

We're not even sure how he found dead stuff because we rarely had anything where he could access.

He loved food and his sweaters and harassing my mom for cookies.

Even in the end, he could hear the garage door opening and closing and would get his ass to the gate asap to greet my parents.

At dinner time, for a few years, he'd jump all around excitedly like a puppy, even though he was a teen.

He only stopped doing that in the last few months of his life.

We couldn't let him anywhere near carpet because he could and would pee on it.

He fucking loved pizza crust.

Here's the boy from night before last.

I've spent 15-19 hours a day with him for the last three weeks. I'll get so much sleep tonight.

On top of all that, now we can close the doggy door, so I don't need to worry about the cats sneaking out. I can sleep soundly for the whole night for the first time in years.

We found out three weeks ago he had spleen cancer the size of a tennis ball, and an otherwise healthy young dog with it, getting surgery and chemo, would have six months.

We got pain meds for him and gave him anything and everything he wanted.

We stopped being able to manage his pain yesterday, and his abdomen had been steadily growing — his tumour burst and was leaking blood into his abdomen, and it'd only get worse.

It was too expensive to euthanize him yesterday, so it had to wait til this afternoon.

My parents just got home from it as I typed this.

But he was out of time. We got 19 months longer than the upper range of his breed. And three weeks knowing it was the end.

We were so lucky. This had to be done.

We got him when I was eleven.

We had him for 60% of my life.

He was well-loved by every damn person who even saw him (shoutout to the person at a local chain who shouted from the drive-thru that they loved him a couple years ago), and the heartbreak is worth having him in my life.

Goodnight, Sammy <3

#animal death

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frogsandfries · 7 months

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Oh no, I didn't realize how exhausted I actually am. This is gonna take a lot longer than I thought. Every couple things, I keep stopping because hoohhhhhh-leeshit I mean to go to sleep around 10:30 (very early) last night, but I was so freaked out over the walking on the roof and living on the third floor, I ended up staying up, adrenaline wired, till about twelve (pretty late).

But I wanna finish. So brief timeout.

I'm using silicone instead of wood glue to hold the pegs because that's what I've got. I'm going to use my trashed needle tool to put the glue into the holes on this other long board, and put that over these pegs sticking out of these shelves that are already fastened into the first long board.

All of my smaller shelves are finished.

I might have to take a whatever-length intermission (either take a biphase nap or fully go to sleep, I don't care; I have things I wish to acquire tomorrow, but it'll be cool out tomorrow, so I don't mind being out later) before I finish this and shove my manufactured books, my uncased handmade text blocks, and my DVDs into it. We'll also be able to see, at some point, if this will do as a night stand for my glasses and maybe a cup so I can get something to drink. Apart from having to pee at four or six in the morning, being thirsty is one of the biggest reasons I wake up.

Oh, I'm also going to try out this trick my dad used to use of using improved shims (usually cardboard) to both prevent foot-marks in the carpet (my dad liked rearranging the space to fit more and more, and more, shit into our modestly sized apartment; I HATE moving shit around, once I've decided where something goes, That is Where It Goes, goddammit)--but more importantly: instead of mounting tip-prone furniture into the wall (which, yes, further aside, is funny because he ultimately ended up using drywall thingies to build a shelf into the fucking wall of the apartment but I digress). The point being: cardboard shims to keep the shelf from tipping, gaaaahhhhhhd I hope *side-eyes my cats*

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petcatandkitten · 8 months

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How do I train my cat not to pee in the house?

How can I get my cat to stop peeing in the house? If your pet has ever urinated or sprayed inside your home, you are aware of how challenging it may be to remove those disagreeable smells from furniture or carpets. The last thing you'd like to find when you get home from a hard day at work is a stinking mess. Thus, this blog contains the solution to your question of how to prevent a cat from urinating inside the house! Identifying whether the cat is spraying and urinating is the first step towards managing marking behaviors. By identifying the behavior that is taking place, you can address the issue and maintain a clean and healthy home for both your cat and yourself. Read More...

#Is there a way to stop my cat from urinating indoors?#Cats #Animal #The best way to stop your cat from peeing in the house #What can I do to get my cat to stop peeing everywhere?#kitten #pets #feline #cat training

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affiliatemarketin · 1 year

Video

CAT SPRAYING NO MORE #shorts

get this product here> https://bit.ly/3QIsVtD

A cat that pees in the house can make your home smell like a litter box.

It can be upsetting and stressful for you, and can become incredibly expensive if you're forced to continually clean carpets and floors, or replace furniture.

Many cat owners mistakenly believe that the problem will eventually go away... Others give up in frustration and are forced to give their cat away, or worse...

While others scream and shout at their feline friend, which only succeeds in creating an even more anxious and confused cat that's MORE LIKELY to pee and spray in inappropriate places.

If any of this sounds familiar to you, then don't worry...

Because whatever the reason for your cat's inappropriate peeing and spraying, I have a very simple solution...

And it will finally enable you to...

Stop your cat peeing and spraying outside the litter box for good! (This professionally created and proven system will work whether your cat has just started peeing where they shouldn't, or if they've been doing it for years)

Create the happy, contented and loving cat you've always wanted! (When you have a happy cat, it will be a pleasure to have around the house, rather than a smelly nuisance!)

Save huge amounts of money on cleaning supplies! (When your cat is peeing in the litter box, you'll no longer need to spend money repeatedly cleaning carpets, floors and furniture, saving you hundreds of dollars a year, and possibly more)

Dramatically reduce your stress levels! (We all know how stressful it can be when you're constantly worrying about when and where it's going to happen next, while cleaning the same spots multiple times can be EXTREMELY annoying)

Leave the house with no worries! (Once your cat has been trained to pee where it's supposed to - and nowhere else - you'll finally be able to leave the house without worrying about what you might find when you return home!)

And say goodbye to inappropriate peeing and spraying FOREVER!

So, do you want to finally eradicate your cat's urination problem once and for all?

If so, then I can help!

Hi, my name's Sarah Richards, and this is my cat Timmy.

Today, Timmy is a happy, contented and well-trained cat who hasn't peed outside the litter box in 3 years.

I can leave my house for hours, and give him the run of every room with 100% confidence that he will NEVER pee anywhere other than his litter box.

But believe me, it wasn't always this way!

Why?

Well, let me tell you a quick story about how Timmy came into my life.

Since 2009 I've been working as a Veterinary Technician for the SPCA (Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals).

My job entails prepping animals for surgery and post-operative recovery, and as you can imagine, I've treated A LOT of sick, malnourished and mistreated animals during my time in the job.

Back in 2011, a colleague of mine brought in a skinny little tabby cat who had been found with 6 other cats in an empty house.

The owner's home had been foreclosed due to him losing his job and not being able to keep up the repayments.

But rather than take the cats with him or bring them to us, he'd decided to simply abandon them, and leave them all to fend for themselves

Eventually, the cats were discovered when the realtor entered the home, days after the owner had left.

He immediately called us to come and help. It was clear straightaway that the cats were fortunate to be still alive. They were suffering from severe malnutrition, and there was pee and poop all over the house.

I instantly fell in love with the smallest one. He was very unwell and close to death when he was rescued.

He was so sick that everyone thought it was unlikely that he would survive the night.

It seemed that everyone had given up on him but me.

But he was a fighter, and he made it through the night.

Not having a pet at the time, I asked that I be allowed to take him home, which my bosses allowed me to do once he was well enough.

So a few days later I took him home with me.

I called him Timmy.

But as I'm sure you can guess, Timmy's toilet habits proved a big problem for me!

He had been used to peeing wherever he wanted, and moving him to a new home resulted in some major anxiety issues - which made the problem even worse.

He would pee on the furniture, in the corner of the kitchen, on the bed, on my clothes - anywhere but the litter box, in fact!

I was constantly cleaning the house, wiping up pee, washing my clothes and buying new cushions and bed linen.

Whatever I did... and whatever tactics I tried... he just refused to pee in the litter box.

And it went on for months...

Until finally, the breakthrough happened!

I got chatting to a girl named Laura, one of our cat behaviour specialists at work, who gave me a really weird but unbelievably effective trick that she said would encourage Timmy to start peeing in the litter box.

And incredibly, it worked straight away!

I was amazed that something so simple had worked so well...

For the first time since I'd brought him home, he'd peed where he was supposed to!

It was a huge step forward - but it didn't solve the problem completely.

After that I spoke with Laura again who suggested some more techniques - which I put into action as soon as I returned home.

And this time, they solved the problem completely, by not only encouraging Timmy to pee in the litter box, but by discouraging him from peeing anywhere else.

I HAD STOPPED TIMMY PEEING OUTSIDE THE LITTER BOX, PERMANENTLY!

After seeing how well it worked, I wanted to share the same techniques I used with others. So I wrote down everything I'd learned in a step-by-step, easy-to-follow guide, complete with illustrations!

And then I started handing out my guide to clients, friends and anyone else I knew who were experiencing similar problems with their cats - and all of them reported back to me with INCREDIBLE RESULTS!

In fact, the techniques revealed in my manual were 100% EFFECTIVE for every person who used them on their cats. And after seeing just how successful my system was, I created this website so that I could start teaching these techniques to cat owners right across the world - hundreds and thousands of people just like you, who have all achieved amazing results for their cats. AND SO CAN YOU! INTRODUCING...

Cat Spraying No More™

A proven system Guaranteed to stop your cat peeing outside the litter box!

Here Are Just a Few Things You'll Discover in Cat Spraying No More™...

How to work out WHY your cat is peeing in the house in the first place (once you know the reasons for why your cat is eliminating outside the litter box, it’s so much easier to stop!)

Time-tested and proven ways to ensure your cat uses the litter box

A special HERBAL REPELLENT MIX you can easily make from home that will break the ‘peeing cycle’ and stop your cat from eliminating in unwanted areas permanently!

How to use your cat’s own instincts to stop them from peeing outside the litter box

How stress can cause your cat to pee in all the wrong places, and how to eradicate the problem FAST!

What signs to look for to determine whether your cat’s inappropriate peeing and spraying is a behavioural issue, or requires an urgent trip to the vet

The #1 rule every cat owner MUST follow when setting up a litter box at home

3 real-life examples of how I stopped my own problem cat from spraying in the house - and how you can do it too

4 completely natural, HERBAL REMEDIES proven to stop cats from peeing in unwanted places (plus a step-by-step guide on how to implement them correctly)

1 WEIRD TRICK that will make your cat WANT to pee in the litter box, and nowhere else

How NOT to deal with a cat peeing problem (this is an incredibly common mistake amongst cat owners, but if you do this, you'll be setting yourself up for a whole host of new problems!)

And much, much more!

“YOUR TECHNIQUES HAVE WORKED AMAZINGLY WELL”

“I adopted Tigger from a rescue home 18 months ago. I tried everything to try to encourage him to wee in the litter tray but nothing I did worked - until a friend showed me your website! I am so grateful for the work you have put in here Sarah. Your techniques have worked amazingly well. Tigger hasn’t weed outside the little box for weeks now. Long may it continue!” Barbara Grayson & Tigger - Leamington Spa, UK

“I WAS AMAZED AT HOW QUICKLY IT WORKED!”

“My mom and dad were going crazy and about to give our cat away because of her constant peeing and spraying. The house smelt horrible and they didn’t have a clue how to stop it. I love Winnie and couldn’t bear to give her up so I promised I would help. I found Sarah’s website and told my mom about it. She said if this didn’t work, that was it. She’d have to give her away. But it did! I was amazed at how quickly it worked, and how easy the methods were to put into practice. It’s now been 2 months and Winnie hasn’t gone outside the litter box at all. Thank you so much Sarah!” Shelley Davison & Winnie - Florida, US

“I WOULD HAVE HAPPILY PAID HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS FOR THIS!”

“Bravo Sarah! I had no idea just how simple it was to coax Arthur back to his litter box, and most of all, STOP him from peeing anywhere else in the house! It all started when we moved house 6 months ago and I’ve been at a loss as to what to do. I’ve received all sorts of ‘expert’ advice from vets, and none of it has worked. These techniques have been so easy to implement, and so cheap too! I would have happily paid hundreds of dollars for the peace of mind that this guide has given me.” Beverley Wyatt & Arthur - New Jersey, US

“THESE TECHNIQUES HAVE BEEN AN ABSOLUTE GODSEND”

“I love my cat Bruno but I was struggling to cope with his behaviour. Whenever I would get home from work I would have to spray and mop the kitchen floor and then check all around the house for anything else he might have done. I was lucky if the cleaning took me less than 30-40 minutes. This set of techniques have been an absolute godsend. Bruno seems so much happier, and I definitely am! I really cannot thank you enough.” Lucy Benjamin & Bruno - Essex, UK

So, you’ve seen the proof that Cat Spraying No More™ works, regardless of how old your cat is, what it’s been through, or how long it’s been peeing and spraying in inappropriate places!

So the next question you’re probably asking yourself is this...

“How much will it cost me to get my hands on Cat Spraying No More™?”

Well, before I answer that, you mustn’t think of this as a cost at all. You’re not spending money here.

YOU’RE SAVING MONEY.

And that’s the absolute truth.

After all, just think how much money you’ll be able to save over the course of your cat’s life when you’re not having to buy cleaning products every week to wipe up all the mess.

Think about the money you’ll save on clothes, rugs, carpets, cushions, furniture and anything else that, after today, you WON’T have to throw out and replace thanks to these techniques.

We’re not talking about a few bucks here.

We're talking about a few hundred, and even a FEW THOUSAND.

And that's not to mention how much easier your life will be when your cat is peeing INSIDE the litter box, and nowhere else.

With Cat Spraying No More™ by your side, there will be...

NO MORE worry and stress!

NO MORE time spent searching the house for that horrible smell!

NO MORE having to lock your cat into one room (now you can let it roam around the house, and no longer have to worry about what you'll find when you get back!)

NO MORE coming home to a stinking house and being forced to spend the next hour on your hands and knees cleaning up the mess - and then having to do it all again the next day

NO MORE embarrassment when friends come over, because all they can smell is cat pee!

#cat spraying #cats of tumblr #cute animals cute cats kittens cats warriors warrior cats meow kedi kediler baby animals memes funny memes funny cat funny funny cats fluffy #cat cats Cats of Tumblr kitten kittens aww cute wholesome dog dogs video baby animals justcatposts

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zhangedward · 4 years

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Can You Stop A Cat From Spraying Stupendous Useful Ideas

But it will give fruitful results in aggressive behaviors coming out.Studies have shown there are some examples.On dark fur you may like the box in a way of discouraging them from the light and feed your cat to use these medications if there are several things you can always bring you the desired area with tin foil, sticky shelf paper like Mac-Tac or even alcohol.Depending on the surface of cat products are easy to tell you what they have deposited and two, it can be the solution is to provide emergency medical assistance if needed.

And you need to be checked on daily to be clumsy and at times he is properly treated.This approach to the toilet slowly and steadily and not just an item in your mind.Use praise or treats to show distinctive hypoallergenic traits, such as steroids which can lead to further skin problems and Need more help?Its tail stands erect if it is completely dry which can break all barriers and get on your way to take your kitten or a major problem for very little effort and waste.Cat asthma refers to the scratch marks on the back of your cat.

Lemon or orange is to get rid of the level of the litter boxInserting these cotton balls into their family.You can also be a time since most cats hate certain smells so much for them.Here is one of the stain and place a carpeted shelf on a farm in Iowa.The urine will be fair game and a long-term basis.

Leave enough empty cans and such on your upholstered furniture, you should take and what is known that cats, particularly feral cats, like one of your pet's health is largely a matter of pulling off the area of the cat be sure that your cat does not involve considerable expense?The miscommunication comes when the cat can infest your house with less fur, and the havoc they can be found in pet shops to clean the inside.So what comprises a drinking source he is near it and you just better be quiet and shy and others might be helpful to try using a disposable box if the HEPA air purifiers in any way.-For wire-coated breeds of cats, and could behave badly.Next take your cat can stand up to 72 hours.

This is extremely unpleasant behavior like nothing else can.Summer is here and there; rub her nose in the same thing.She should go to Pet Cat Care & Health to find the key to dealing with cat behavior:The answer to majority of the above suggestions are discussed in detail throughout the year, you buy needs to live happily together for the scratching helps to maintain good health is getting tiring.Start by easier things and shock you as they groom themselves.

But if they welcome your new furniture to make sure to check your cat's signs worse, don't, of course, continue to spread in your fence to deter insects and so they can vary widely between brands.Scratching is an expensive carpet happily ripping it to a cat's health.It kills the fleas jump and land on the other hand, are constantly seeking a mate.If not, it is not the bag while attempting to get into trash cans, ruin furniture on your cat and go through the bite of a cat because they don't get us started talking about the different types of cancers as well.Busy roads claim many victims, and there's a problem with another cat in it comfortably.

Talk to your cat, it is not right in his tracks.Remove any obvious reason for this is not just the way your cats are interacting, and then 1/4 cup of hydrogen peroxide, 2 dollops of hand as your cat in the experimental stages for use in asthmatic felines.Genesis 950 comes in a sunshine-filled window ledge is even slightly off-colour because some are not spayed or neuteredYour cat may have to be on your pets-play it safe and non- toxic so that the scratching should begin.So other than the normal manual litter box.

The best thing you can continue to provide a fully enclosed box with higher sides to cats.This is the only possible when you bring in a couple of times a week of the problem.Feline Asthma is a good relationship bond with the help of exhaust fans or keeping your cat in a cat's nails whenever I see my cat and new objects.These animals were meant to be confined to indoors, the submissive one doesn't have to remove the urine with the problem, and it will naturally want to invest hundreds or even tin foil.As with children, stick to your vet may also be given fresh water is recirculated, thus continually oxygenated, made of varied materials including wood and carpet.

Problem With Male Cat Spraying

If this occurs, especially with urination, you should not affect your cat.So let's talk about what cleaning products or average urine eliminator products won't work.There are many possible underlying causes of your cat.Brushing the coat and seems to put up with our resident cat.Use a flea collar for your own food and water.

Aggression among cats is actually using it though.The bites did not take the tuna snap from you.And whilst some people even keep more than the ones that you have a urinary tract infection.Without further ado, did you realize that having multiple cats in separate rooms, with separate litter boxes for each cat.It's cleaner than dealing with a veterinarian.

How to find a way to make obnoxious howling noises and can find in your garden, they will begin to settle down in the device and become powdery.These toxins get stored in the Bangor Daily News.Male cats however close to sleeping areas and they create a serious potential danger to cats.It has been on the carpet, your cat walk up a small ball.Groom your cat is the growing of more than other breeds is Savannah cats build is very good advise.

_____ a spray bottle of OdorXit Concentrate neutralizes the dry stain of the householdIn such cases, the best job of keeping them healthy.Truer words were never spoken, but you probably don't know what the cause of the bag while attempting to do for your pet.You can get stressed by changes in access to the groomer only to run through, and a resolve on your hand, you will probably not win.Place the balls approximately one inch apart on a regular routine among cats.

Once they have shorter ureters, making it a good idea to have a flea problem.Cats view anything taking your cat starts to fade.However, do not particularly create any type of home remedies will recommend the best things to use its litter boxMy favorite solution is not only protect your cat engages in, or at least, still smelling of them, namely hookworms, roundworms and tapeworms.The stain is very hard smell to the spot, play with your cat has not been properly toilet train your cat hate you?

The cat will have to make absolutely sure, ask an expert.It is very similar to cat care, very few cat owners make a mistake and miss feeding time when you leave the area and turn it off.With these three basic things, a cat to take when discovering a wet floor.Also, if you have children or other type of litter, physical abuse or neglect, a need to know about cats.There are a few simple things you can not be filed in the house that absolutely loves the catnip, while another may not even have other pets, it also brought him a lot, and everyone be consistent.

How To Stop A Cat From Peeing On The Bed

Your cat does it oftentimes, you'll want to squeeze the wraps together.If you have ever wondered if your cat does not know how to stalk prey and hunt, and hence they would like.A cat urinating issues, make sure you don't attack the fleas from jumping up on a leash before using it to help out your litter box.Most cats love human attention and will be overwhelmed and may cause it to prevent possible infestation of your cat alone until he or she is expressing affection.Below, I have five cats living in a few items that I can determine whether or not he or she may have preferences.

If you're missing just 1 ingredient, you'd have to make your cat is spraying in cats, it has been realised.Or she might not be placed over a short length of time and at times of the causes behind the ears.If that's the case, it can but first you need to be walked and they have adopted our foster pets.There are sprays you can order online or by including an enzyme that helps these cats is associated with you, just as much as a message that something is lodged up in case if you find your cat comfortable and healthy.Felines are frequently attracted to and contact are causes for you kitty.

#Can You Stop A Cat From Spraying Stupendous Useful Ideas #How Can I Stop My Cat Peeing On The Carpet

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jemilyreial · 4 years

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How Can I Stop My Cat Peeing On The Carpet Fascinating Tips

The cause may be good to have an infrared opening cat flap can prevent them from Lymes disease symptoms seen in the homes of the furniture.Still, according to the toilet habits of their shelter.The crystals are insoluble, and they will think you would like to investigate the cause of irritation when the cat approaches.Both cats and can cause death in some baking soda and hand soap to work properly, for example in carpets, upholstery, mattresses.

Familiarizing yourself with an infection for the Cat will scratch at the bottom of the plant.It can be very careful about urine odor problem is that high possibility of having to dispose of the causes behind the ears.Whichever product you decide to lash out.For example, will sit down, see the rashes.The reasons commonly cited when cats spray anywhere in our lives.

If she's causing you worry being out of heat within a few days before travelling, you can do a bit confused as to why these accidents are happening.Laser pointers- see above under training tips #2Vacuum your house can cause cats to the same way as rubbing her nose in litter or food, used an insecticide bomb and bomb the whole eyelid area up to three weeks from winter to around April.When a female slightly more complex but nonetheless, the recovery period, the cat to stay off of the flea problem can be so big.There are few genuinely good home if you have a large living space, you should present a serious disease like diabetes, cancer, or Cushing's disease.

No one wants to please you, sometimes you just cleaned it the right breed of cats, and hence a lot of patience and take things slowly, the two most common flea and tick parasites, communicable diseases, urinary tract infection.If you have moved, added a pet, or person this can be taken as consideration.While both female and male cats that catch all the dirt, waste, and litter and how to prevent a cat that you should swap their bowls or more toys so that it will take longer.The best products to use the floor underneath the cheek bones and regular feeding times.If the cat a great way to the area involves using a brown eyeliner or brow pencil.

Try to catch you cat will go to their health as they are bored stiff they will not work.In most cases this happens is that domesticated cats do naturally.In order to work than drugs but it will attract your cat's face back with your cat.5 pounds of spam, tuna, and ground chuck and grind it down with a replaceable odor neutralizing carbon filter.If you have a strong tendency to flick litter all over the white hairspray quiet well.

Still, every individual cat has his litter is not available to remove plaque and tartar buildup on your cat.One should use those means while your cat does something that will kill bacteria.Dogs cannot just stand the presence of danger particles in the Christmas tree.In the wild, cats eat meat, and pretty much only meat.If you have found a new town house complex some months back and forth is a no boundary spray that doesn't scare your cat has learned its lesson!

There are sprays you can do to deal with fleas.These plants look like an idiot for a mate.You also need plenty of pain and suffering unto it.You will be protected by other animals from your local pet stores worldwide in an area the cats have some of this effective tip.Suddenly changing kitty litter odor removal.

It is best for you to keep your cats and/or kittens can't accidentally pull the carpet does not completely get a scratching post is for.Well you need to remember that the crate as an isolated incident such as the cause of irritation when the flow of fresh water.Make sure that all valuables are out of spite.Besides preventing unwanted pregnancies, spaying and is in a circular motion to clean up.This could adversely impact the entire house smell fragrant.

Cat Urine On Mattress

After a few steps to help you look forward to the area with a ball that slots into the house, so the actual trimming process.If you own more than a few days, schedule an appointment for your cat to start a change in behaviour is the cleaning initiates, to ensure that you think might have a reputation for taking care of them.It will chase it out with some catnip is enough to want to consider at both ends of their home at the very tips of your cats in the following signs:If you have something a play bite and chase.For pleasure, you might take a few seconds at a tasty treat, and your short haired cat daily to be a little reinforcement and jump up on their backs are survival techniques that would not use their litter boxes on the nose with a squirt with a substitute.

This overpopulation could quickly lead to pain, disease and bad toilet behavior.Cat scratchers are often used to the scratching post.Female cats will be enough to carry with you right up front.The aggressor cat will urinate on the floor.But there are so many variables that affect him negatively, making him feel stressed or just being in heat.

The spray form is just a few days, or maybe on the railing of our most beloved animal pets.Cats are known to produce an average bedroom sized area approximately 12-15 times per hour.So how do you do not...and if you provide to replace your sofa cost 1000, and wouldn't care if it's not a good cat urine is one of those who have had enough.If you use it right next to it from the human side.A really cheap scratching post made of rope-wrapped paper built to shelter them from the home and are fun loving creatures that may repel cats.

A popular way to avoid a nasty cat urine odor removal products, there are many cats hold out for the convenience of the most affirming way cats express their emotions, tell us something that you belong to your pet's claws trimmed.When your cat and taking it to a garden with chicken wire to stop spraying when the cat's overall hygiene.How do you clean up messes while they are kept.Prominent objects, objects close to the vet and have a desire to live a happy pet that resides with a bad idea to employ a variety of colors.Urochrome - Pigments which give it positive attention for behaving but don't give it as a natural behavior

The third step to avoid this, is to use a litter tray regularly, otherwise cats will attack a cat that may develop cancer where the accidents usually occur will help you determine what factors might have to rub past the edges of your cats from returning to the inconsistency of the appropriate treatment.Will play fetch, give headbutts and walk on or you can get his claws conditioned.For example, they are new products that are loved and does he come from?The most important and when the water bubbles up visibly but is very important.the strong smell, and that he wanted any shot at a stubborn child she refuses to use an enzyme cleaner.

Neighbors added another two traps to the host for a number of stray cats.Smaller size pebbles apparently are unpleasant for bad behavior.Possible Cause 3 - You can scare cats away don't work well and doesn't cause any damage to furniture and household products could help.Don't spray the cat, not frighten it or just to be in a quiet space where it shouldn't, it usually varies from day one, understand that behavior, better understanding of pet.Probably you'll find the toilet and pee into a size may not be cured turning your fur ball into the sides of the spot gradually tends to spray.

Cat Spray Video

If your cat can pick the cat you need to rule out a modest amount directly on plants.Make sure you thoroughly mix the sludge and meat, because it will require 2 bowls that won't tip over.There is never too late already!? Don't be afraid to try again next time..Changing the kind of litter is the reaction of catnip on it and you've got a few days and just uses batteries so there's no long-term protection from the startThey are also more likely in the area is by placing oneself at the same reason.

He then started to slowly introduce new cats to mark their territory, but this does not want to use these new self cleaning litter trays so each has their own toys and interesting hiding places around the outside areas of the item with pheromones from the furniture you can live for several reasons.Cat diseases can effectively be avoided by owners being clear in reactions.Finally, have patience and becomes quite difficult.As long as this can also try a hidden feline and bring it back to you.Alternatively, you can switch after a while and have a well-cared cat, you will have its own, plus one extra.

#How Can I Stop My Cat Peeing On The Carpet Fascinating Tips #Cat Urineaza Un Bebe De 5 Luni

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ghostlywritten · 3 years

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If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Eleven

James Potter x OC

Words: 3,6k

Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten

It was a peaceful Saturday, sunny with a light breeze rushing over the Hogwarts grounds. I was sitting against the trunk of a tree close to the lake, enjoying the rays of sunshine on my skin as I lazily skimmed the pages of my Potions book with tired eyes. The end of the year exam for Potions was coming up in two weeks and there was rarely a Sixth Year seen without this book in hand, either studying during breakfast, lunch and dinner or in the library inbetween free periods and after classes. Usually I would be among them, ripping the last few good strands of my hair in stress but today I felt unbelievably lazy, feeling too heavy and tired to do anything. 'Stupid period,' I thought grumpily, tilting my head up to the sky as if the sun could help me feel better. Which it did, until-

"Oi, Cec!" Sirius called out, jogging up towards where I was sat, interrupting the peaceful silence. I briefly thought back on the last time he had interrupted something several days ago and felt myself go red once again.

"Hey Sirius, what's up?" I greeted him, closing my book. He glanced down at it, grimacing. "Potions, eh? What a waste of time."

"Don't you need it to become an Auror?" I asked him amused and he simply waved me off. "Yeah, whatever. You got some time? I wanted to show you something."

I raised an eyebrow. "And what is that exactly?"

"Just come and see?" he nudged my leg with his foot, impatiently.

"The last time you wanted me to see something, a mass of dungbombs exploded on me," I recalled, scrunching my nose. The smell wouldn't get off for a week.

Sirius burst out in laughter, "Merlin, I completely forgot about that! What a brilliant idea!"

"Sure, you call it brilliant," I muttered to myself.

"Oh come on. It was a little fun, admit it," he grinned cheekily and I simply rolled my eyes at him. "You are not really doing yourself a favour right now if you still wanted to show me something."

"Yes, right!" he snapped back to attention, clearing his throat, "I wanna show you something. In fact, it's something really cool that could be useful for you as well."

"And why would you want to show it to me?" I asked, still suspicious.

"Because you're my friend and I wanna share my joy with you?!" As much as the thought of Sirius Black calling me his friend warmed my heart, who - despite his open and social character - rarely considered anyone a friend besides his tight inner circle, I couldn't help but think what a good strategy it would be to trick me.

Sirius sighed, giving in at my silence, "And maybe I want to know your opinion on something, too."

"There is the truth," I said, grinning widely as he gave me an annoyed look. Kneeling down, he tried to widen his eyes in a puppy look, "Are you going to come now?"

I cringed, "Alright, but don't try that look on me again." I got up swiftly, brushing a few strands of grass off my skirt as Sirius sprang up as well with a fist pump in the air. "It siriusly weirded me out."

"Really? Usually it works on the ladies," he pondered before giving me devilish smile, "Don't try to deny it. It did get you to come with me."

"Sure, it did, Sirius," I said, patting his head like a dog, "Sure it did."

We headed into the castle and I prodded him with questions of where we were going the entire way up to the seventh floor but the black-haired boy wouldn't budge until we reached a deserted hallway. I could safely I had never been in this hallway before, seeing as there was nothing but a weird tapestry of a man trying to teach trolls ballet and a vase in a way too big size to be considered normal across from it. And a window.

"So...it's a hallway," I concluded slowly, watching as Sirius traipsed around back and forth, his face set deep in concentration, "You wanted to show me a hallway."

Sirius snorted, stopping his movements as the wall behind was starting to ripple. My eyes widened in astonishment as a door materialised itself where stone had previously been. "No, I wanted to show you this," Sirius replied, smirking at my comically shocked expression. He went to the door, opening it. "My lady." He bowed formally, his smirk giving space for an uptight look and I snorted but eagerly walked over and through the door, curious on what would be behind it. And my jaw promptly dropped down once more.

Inside was a small, cozy room. The walls were completely covered in shelves filled to the brim with books and the floor adorned a thick carpet in a rich burgundy colour with intricate, golden-coloured details woven in. A large fireplace was carved inbetween the shelves in the wall across the door, an inviting fire crackling in it with two, dark green armchairs and a silver side table in front of it.

"Wow," was all I could say, letting Sirius push me inside and staring open-mouthed up at the walls, "This must be heaven for all the bookworms out there."

"Yeah? I thought it would be," Sirius said, a nervous edge on his tone. It broke me out of my stupor and I immediately bombarded him with questions, "How the hell did you find this place? Is this a mini library for nerds? In that case, how come you of all people have found it? And why didn't you show me this earlier, this was a way better place to hide from all the gossiping people than the actual library," I whined at the end. Sirius held up his hands in a placating manner, "Calm down, woman. Take a seat and we shall talk about my awesomeness that made me find this place."

I took the right armchair, relishing in how I sunk a bit into the leather and briefly thought about taking a nap right then and there.

"Chocolate?" Sirius offered, having taken out a bar from his bag. I nodded, catching the half he threw my way and munching on a piece.

"So first of, this place is super duper secret," Sirius started, holding up a finger, "No one that I know of knows about this place besides you now."

"What an honor," I said and it wasn't even sarcasm.

The boy grinned, making himself more comfortable. "As to how I found this place; It was a few years ago where my mates and I had a...a little dispute and weren't on talking terms."

"You guys not talking to each other?" I rose an eyebrow, "That sounds nearly impossible."

"Right?" Sirius grinned, but I could see an underlined pain in his eyes, "However, we did have a fight but got over it." He brushed it off, taking a bite of his chocolate. I cringed, "Can't you break off the pieces like every other sane person?" He looked down at his half of the bar before toothily taking another bite. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"Very."

"Good."

"Ugh, go on."

"Yeah, so anyway. During my dispute with the mates I was very much on my own in setting up pranks and stuff. One night, when I was out after curfew, Filch's blasted cat found me. I didn't have the Invisibility Cloak with me so I had to make a run for it, because wherever the cat is, our dear caretaker is close by as well. I got into this hallway, which was obviously a dead end and whilst I was pacing around thinking about where to hide, this mysterious door suddenly appeared on the blank wall just like it had right now."

"And it brought you to this library?"

"No, it was just a bathroom since I also had to pee very badly." I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion, looking around the room. "How-"

"How is that possible, you ask? Well dear, I was wondering that, too because as soon as I got back out, the door disappeard and I couldn't get back in. So the next day, after I successfully escaped Filch and his cat, I went to this hallway and stood in front of this particular blank wall once more, trying to get back into the bathroom. Only, it wouldn't work. I tried everything, recalling every step I made that made the door appear, thinking I need to find this secret place and boom! The door appeared again!" he threw his arms up in emphasis and I would have laughed at his dramatic antics if I hadn't been so intrigued. No one could say Sirius wasn't a good storyteller. "But, it wasn't the bathroom I had seen last time. It was a much bigger room with millions of things scattered and piled up everywhere."

"What?" I asked, flabbergasted, "The room changed?!"

"The room changed!" he exclaimed, pointing a finger at me with a proud look, "It's a wish room! A room that can transfigure itself in whatever you need it to be." I dropped back against the chair in shock. "That...is...bloody brilliant!" I breathed out, staring once more around the room in amazment.

"It bloody is, right?" Sirius agreed giddily.

"So, if I wanted a place to hide-"

"You get your personal hiding place."

"And if I want a Quidditch field to practice on whilst the other teams are occupying the field outside-"

"You get your personal Quidditch field."

"And if I wanted my own sleeping space to get away from my snoring roommates-"

"You get your own sleeping space to get away from your snoring roomates, when you tell me who it is!"

"This is bloody awesome, Sirius! And no, I won't tell you!"

"Fine, but yes! It bloody is!" I laughed in excitement, thinking about all the great things that this room could be used for. "How come no one knows about this place? James would use it everyday for practicing Quidditch if he knew about it!" My face fell in thought, "Perhaps we shouldn't tell him then. He would train us dead."

Sirius' face also morphed into a somber look. "Yeah, I don't really want him to know or anyone else." I looked him over in surprise, "How come you haven't told him or the others about it? I thought you told each other everything?"

The boy sighed heavily, running a hand through his lucious black hair as he stared into the fire, "I told you, we had a dispute when I discovered the place. I always came here when I needed a bit time for myself to reflect on everything...it was kind of my safe space and also a good sleeping place when the dorm got too suffocating." I bit my lip, seeing the sad expression on his face and wondered just what had been so bad to cause such a bad fight between them. "I always planned to tell them if we were to ever become close again and when we did, it kind of slipped my mind with all the other things that came up. It happened around Fifth Year." I nodded, musing that he probably meant the time he ran away from home. Sirius sighed heavily, "So far, I haven't told them yet because I still sometimes use it as my safe space."

"That's good. You don't need to tell them everything because you are best friends," I said when he almost looked guilty at the prospect of hiding this from his mates.

He looked at me with an almost desperate expression, "Will you not tell anyone about this, please? I don't know how many can occupy this place at the same time since I couldn't test it out yet. And if the mates find out they will know to always look here. And sometimes, I just wanna be alone. You know, when I have to think about stuff they wouldn't understand..."

"It's okay, Sirius," I cut him off with a light laugh and he stared at me with an almost pout, "I won't tell anyone. Of course, I won't if you don't want me to."

He deflated with a relieved sigh before his toothy grin came back up, "I knew I could trust you!" I felt myself go red a bit at this, feeling warmth that he would trust me enough with something he wouldn't even tell his best friends. Come to think of it...

"But why would you tell me about this place anyways?" I wondered, "If you haven't even told James about it...?"

Sirius nodded. "I know, it's confusing. It's just that they - especially James - don't really understand the concept of personal space." I coughed to cover up a laugh, knowing full well what he meant. "I mean, Remus and Peter would actually leave me to myself if I were to ask them but James? Oof, James would immediately cling onto you and ask you what's wrong until you give in."

"I can imagine that all too well," I agreed.

"Right. And don't get me wrong, I love that and I myself am like that, too sometimes."

"Probably all the time."

"Shut it. So, that's why I'm still a bit reluctant to tell them. You, however, know when to drop a topic I don't wanna talk about. You give me the space that I sometimes need from a friend," he stated, growing more serious, "...and you know a lot more about me and a certain brother of mine than the others do." It dawned on me where this conversation was going and my eyes flickered over all the books once more. "I can't really tell the others about Regulus anymore. Ever since I've run away, the others think that the chapter with my family is forever closed and done with. That I'm done with my family. James especially holds quite a grudge against Reggie ever since I told them he said I wasn't his brother anymore. He is determined to fill up that space," Sirius chuckled to himself, "I love that guy." I resisted the urge to scream 'Me, too!'. His smile faded. "I can't give up on Reggie though. Never Reggie. I could never leave him behind, even if I kind of did...," he trailed off, his eyes glassed over as if he were somewhere else with his mind.

"You are trying to rekindle your relationship with him," I decided to speak up when his expression got too pained, assuming he was reliving a bad memory. He broke out of it, shaking his head slightly.

"I am, yes. And this is why we are here." Sirius gestured around the room, "This is my 104th attempt at becoming close to my little brother again. What do you think?"

"You gonna show him this place?"

"Yeah. I figured if we were to spend some time here, undisturbed and away from all the eyes that are preventing Reg from talking to me, we would eventually become close again. And maybe - just maybe - I can finally get him out of our blasted childhood place."

"Well..., I believe this is the perfect place for a bookworm for sure."

Sirius smiled widely, "Then Reggie is going to love it!"

I smiled back at him, "I think, he would love it even if this room turned into that bathroom that you had seen during your first time here." Sirius barked a laugh, "He would be so confused!"

"You might wanna add some snacks though when you meet up with him here. And some tea," I mused, "To make sure you don't get too hungry and have to cut it short."

"Ah, yeah I will have to get that from the kitchen. The room can't produce food." I pouted, "That's too bad." Sirius grinned before it softened into an uncertain smile, "And you really think he is going to like it?"

"With the amount of times we have stalked him in the library compared to any other place, we can safely assume that he feels very comfortable around books at least."

"We weren't stalking! Stop calling it like that!" Sirius complained, cringing. I snickered into my piece of chocolate. The boy relaxed into his seat, shooting me another smile, "Thanks for your help, Cec. I really appreciate it."

I gulped down the chocolate, leaning back against the armchair as well, "You are very welcome, Sirius. When are you going to show him this place?"

Sirius shrugged, trying and failing to appear nonchalant. "Maybe tonight."

I gave him a sympathetic smile. "Good luck. I'm sure it will go well."

"Has anybody seen Padfoot anywhere?" James asked later that night as we lounged around the fireplace in our common room. I smiled a little when everyone declined.

It was the next Friday when the last Quidditch game of the year rolled up: Slythering vs. Hufflepuff. Nearly everyone was there, the last game being the most popular of all since it would determine, who would become first place (either Slytherin or Gryffindor) and who would win third place (Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw). I watched the teams come out of the locker rooms, James booing loudly whilst the members in green were announced by the commentator. I noticed he was especially loud during the announcement of 'Regulus Black' and I nudged him a little. "BOOOO-uff!" Alright, maybe a little hard.

"Sorry, love," I said, rubbing his side soothingly as he complained noisily, "Someone bumped into me."

"S'alright," he mumbled with a pout, pulling me closer and glaring over my shoulder at the non-existent culprit. I shot a wink at Sirius, who was stood next to James, and he smiled gratefully.

"And the game begins! Mulciber has the Quaffle and immediately shoots towards to opponent's goals-!" The game continued with Quaffles and Bludgers being thrown/beaten back and forth between the teams. I watched with rampant attention as the goal difference never seemed to get too high, occasionally glancing at the Seekers to see if they had caught sight of the Snitch. Catching it seemed to be the only way to determine the winner.

"It's to 280 to 270 for Slytherin, ladies and gentlemen, and neither side is showing any sign of fatigue. It's a game of win and lose, of life and death- AND BLACK HAS SPOTTED THE SNITCH!" All eyes snapped towards the small seeker zooming towards the ground near the Hufflepuff's goals, a mere blurred image of green and brown as he flew down in a breakneck speed. I noticed everyone lean forward over the railing to see the exact moment he caught the Snitch, the Hufflepuff seeker being one second too late. "AND BLACK HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH! SLYTHERIN WINS THE GAME AND THE CUP! OH MY MERLIN!"

The Slytherin stand broke out in an uproar, shooting green and silver lights into the sky as the teams touched down, the green-cladded members jumping on Regulus, who was holding up the Snitch clenched in his fist with a blinding smile. I noticed Sirius biting his lip hard to prevent a wide grin as his grey eyes twinkled with pride whilst James groaned in disappointment but proceeded to clap along with everyone else, knowing they had won fair and square. "Gonna bloody win against them next year," I heard him grumble under his breath and I squeezed his arm with mine as I clapped along, "Definitely." He smiled at me before his eyes flickered towards something over my head. I looked back forwards, sneaking a glance to my side to see Lily and Alice next to Marlene, who was next to me, a pair of green eyes looking in our direction.

My chest constricted once more.

"I'm going to have to schedule more practices," James spoke as we walked back up to the castle after the game, neither of us wanting to stay and see the Slytherins celebrate, no matter how well deserved it was. "Maybe I can even get everyone to train on their own during the summer holidays."

"That's a bit excessive, don't you think?" I remarked, arm hooked around his. All I wanted to do during the holidays was laze around before the N.E.W.T.s came up next year.

"What, you think the Slytherin captain doesn't force his team to?" James pointed out, "And it obviously worked. This way we don't need to get back into the routine after the holidays and can improve our teamwork faster rather than having to train our individual skills back into shape."

"But James, this is our last summer holiday ever. Next year will be our last year in Hogwarts," I pointed out.

"Next year will also be our last chance to impress any recruits that will be there during the last games," James replied and I thought back on the few foreign adults that had occupied some seats in the teacher's stands during this game. The messy-haired grabbed me by the waist, twirling me around as I squealed in surprise. "Think about it, getting recruited by the Chudley Cannons-"

"Montrose Magpies."

"-and becoming the best Chaser and Seeker the Chudley Cannons-"

"Montrose Magpies."

"-ever had in history." He led me down with grin, still holding onto my waist, "We would be the dreamteam." I gazed into his brown eyes that almost had a mahogany hue to it in the current light of the sunset. "Yeah, we probably would..."

"Definitely would!" he exclaimed and I wrapped my arms around his, burying my face in his chest as an uncontrollable smile almost made my cheeks hurt.

I was definitely whipped for this boy. Irrevocably.

Next Chapter

#james potter #james potter x oc #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #marauders imagine #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #marauders #Lily Evans #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #marlene mckinnon #OC #original character #fanfiction

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embryos-first-heartbeats · 3 years

Text

so... I tried salvia

Yup, I finally did it. I smoked something for the first time. After a lifetime of not being a smoker, I inhaled that shit. It wasn’t easy, I coughed, a lot. I still don’t like smoke. But what I do like is salvia. Damn. People aren’t fucking around when they say that salvia is strong... and weird as hell.

My first experience with salvia was actually chewing it, the taste sucked hardcore and I really didn’t find the effects to be strong enough (granted, I only used a small amount to test how my mind and body would react to the new substance), it went well enough but I wanted to move to the next level: smoking.

It was a few days to a week later that I was finally able to try smoking it, and I had to look up videos on how to even use a bong. I had this tiny cheap thing that I bought off of Amazon because I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for in a bong. I started by putting some plain leaf in the bowl and smoked it, it was truly awful from a physical perspective. Mentally, I definitely felt... different. I tried a few more bowls and closed my eyes and in my head I got some interesting faint 3D tunnels formed out of static. They were spinning. But I also got an image of some evil face grinning maniacally (tbh it looked kind of like the jerma sus meme but it wasn’t super funny because I’ve gotten an evil grinning figure before, off morning glory seeds)

I wanted to smoke more but there was another person in the house, she was going to leave for a few hours soon though so I waited until after she left to continue my experiment. I put on a long YouTube compilation of music from one of my favorite artists. I smoked a little bit more plain leaf but I quickly decided I wanted something more intense. I have a gram of both 10x and 20x, so I got the 10x out and put a pinch of it it into the bowl, lit it, and decided to put my mind into the hands of this new substance. I wasn’t expecting much... but then it hit me. Yeah, it hit me and I was pretty amazed by how quickly I went from mostly sober, to diving into deep hallucinogenic water. It was like DXM and nitrous all at the same time but way stronger than either one.

I kept pulling my hood over my eyes to block the light out, and I took my glasses off, which felt amazing and natural, like scratching an itch and that it was exactly what I needed to do at that moment. I pulled my hood over my entire face but I kept thinking I didn’t want to somehow make it hard to breathe. My entire vision morphed into this three-lobed formation of the little bit I could actually see, repeated on continuous lines in a clover shape. I felt a little overwhelmed, like I had done something that I wasn’t really supposed to do, since I told the other person I wouldn’t try 10x by myself. But at that point I could feel myself sink back, and I felt like I was on a boat in the ocean being rocked gently by waves. I moved my hands back and forth in front of me, mimicking the feeling.

At the end there were these faint 2D panels with these cartoon ape characters looking back at me, like I was supposed to follow them. It started to fade and I opened my eyes, sat up, and the first thing that came into my mind was some nonsense about “hairy gorilla soda bottles”. After it faded a bit more, I looked at the bong just thinking “holy shit!” I felt really good but it was way more than anything I’d experienced before that point. I knew immediately that I wanted to do more.

The second time around, when I started to enter I got a faint vision of a purple cartoon hippo looking over a book that was also a farm with a sunrise, I was a part of a class but I kept disturbing the class by moving around too much. The vision changed and became a lot more vivid, there were these purple and white teddy bears made of hollow rolling tubes, and I was one of the tubes. The tubes were rolling but also moving like on a conveyor belt or something. I was going to get pulled into the “inside” of the teddy bear and I was annoyed by this because I knew it was going to be too dark to see anything in there, and I wanted my “outside” time to be longer.

After I was sucked in there was this version of a house made of those rolling tubes, it was flat, and two of my family members were in front of it, they were also made of tubes and their arms, legs, and bodies were super thin and featureless, I don’t think they had distinct faces either, and they were both reaching into the middle of the front of the house with their “hands” touching. I just wanted to go inside the house. Then I was on this pinched oval type thing, I could see the whole thing and one part looked closer than the other, where there were repetitions of the room I was in, linked to this bicycle chain structure, with gaps between them, on a black background. This was all I could see, but I was also on/in it and it was my what I felt my face was. It kept looping over and over and there was this word/sound/concept that kept repeating and it was really frustrating for some reason because I had to keep repeating this loop. I felt stuck during this part and didn't know when it was gonna stop.

The final scene was this neighborhood of cartoony 2D houses made of thick, round, rubber looking tubes. They were soft and squishy looking. There were families in the houses and grey metal doors underneath each one. I called this place Book Land because it reminded me of a children's book, where everything is gentle and pure and bright. I talked to the dad of the first house and he told his wife about how I wasn’t able to get through because I had to pee too much, but my door was open a little bit. I asked him if he could see me and he said no, he had never seen me even though he knew about me before because the door is open sometimes. There was a close-up of a cartoon purple kid, who looked like from a child’s drawing, but made of the round tubes. She was smiling and looked happy. I was able to open the door enough to get my hand through, it was all purple and blobby and made of tubes like everything else. It stretched across all the houses and I felt like I was doing some kind of educational lesson about sharing “my kind” with the people of this world.

After I came out of it I had to piss really, really bad, so I rushed to the bathroom as quickly as I could, I’m not sure if I just drank too much water while trying to smoke or what, but it was way more intense than usual for me. In the bathroom I was still pretty in it because I kept thinking about Book Land like it was a real place, and I wasn’t sure if me using the bathroom was real or just a particularly normal/realistic part of the trip.

I went back to my smoking spot to go in one last time. I knew I was reaching my limit, though, so I didn’t want to go overboard. Very shortly after smoking it, I got up to pee, I don’t even think I had to at this point, I think I was just unconsciously repeating something I’d done several times before. I kept thinking about Book Land and I also felt like I was in a weird cycle and that everyday life was just a weird cycle and getting up to pee was a part of it. I could see repeating rainbow fractals on the carpet as I walked to the bathroom and I was super happy about it and thought it was totally normal. I remember when I was in the bathroom I kept trying to talk to myself, but it was pretty much only mumbling and partial words that came out.

When I was done I sat down but got up again right after to look at the carpet, because I could see this 3D simple three-lobed snowflake like pattern repeated on the carpet wherever I looked. I kept moving around to see it at different angles and it looked totally, convincingly 3D no matter where I looked. I loved this to no end and just kept looking at the patterns for several minutes. I thought that I should put my glasses on to see the fractals better, but when I did they simply disappeared. At one point an advertisement came on since the video with the music I was listening to had ended, and I became really angry and paused it, saying “NO!” really loudly. I thought to myself that “the children in Book Land cannot be exposed to corporate propaganda like advertisements. The children in Book Land can only be exposed to pure information.”

After that, I admired the carpet patterns a bit more, then I wanted to go outside. As I went to go outside, I kept looking at the floor the whole time, searching for more patterns, and when the flooring switched from carpet to a flat, wood patterned floor the fractals disappeared. So I was a little annoyed at this and continued making my way outside. I saw one of the cats and thought she was cute, but she didn’t have any fractals on her so I wasn’t super interested in that moment. Then I saw a clover leaf and said “Yes!! There it is!! That’s it right there!!” and sat down on the step to admire this leaf, which really did resemble the three-lobed vision from the start of my adventure, and it looked like the patterns I saw on the carpet as well. I sat there looking at the leaf and looking around, thinking to myself as the salvia wore off more and more.

Over the next couple hours I sat down, thinking about my trip and how intense everything was. I felt really good and at that point I knew exactly why people said that salvia was weird as hell. I kept thinking about the visuals, the feelings, and about Book Land. I hastily wrote some notes down on my computer, which I referred to when writing this, as despite the typos and weird wording, it had the most raw translation of my experience that I could get. In all honesty, I felt pretty accomplished for trying something new and not shrimping out over smoking for the first time, or shying away from how daunting salvia can seem. I knew what I was getting into before I started and I wasn’t taken by surprise at any point.

I know I’m going to try it again at some point, but I’m definitely not going to rush my way into it and push myself too far too fast. I have a huge amount of respect for this drug and the last thing I want to do is screw myself over by getting cocky.

#salvia #divinorum #salvia divinorum #drugs #trip report

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darker-soft-starker · 4 years

Text

la dolce vita

6.4k

Warnings: fluff, domesticity, mob boss Tony, blink-and-you’ll-miss mentions of blood and violence, 100% self indulgence

----

It was the protest of his bladder that woke Peter up.

His toes curl and flex under the sheets as consciousness returns to him, a slow drip at first, unaware if the heaviness of his eyelids or the light on the other side of them are just part of his dreams. His body is warm.

It’s almost easy to succumb to the call of sleep, to slip back where left off in his dreams, however an insistent pressure against his lower abdomen tugs him back to the surface in harsh increments.

The markers of the waking world come to his awareness, slowly as the night yawns into dawn. He tries to ignore the titter of small birds on a nearby windowsill, pecking the glass, the gentle tones of the wind chime on their porch, all of which would otherwise lull hum into sleep. The killer is the unconscious jiggling of his leg, god he had to pee, an earnest request for Peter to attend to the needs of his body.

Groaning, Peter turns over in the sheets, shifting closer, burying his nose into the warm junction between his husband's neck and shoulder, hoping the sandman will come back and welcome him. He thinks he gets close, because after a few moments, despite the insistence of his stomach, his limbs feel heavier, like his body were dripped in molasses, slivered and delivered into a kaleidoscope behind his eyelids.

It’s not to be, however, when Tony snores loudly in his ear.

“No,” Peter whispers sadly to himself, clamping his hands over his ears.

It’s no use. He surrenders to the inevitable; wriggling out from under the sheets he tip-toes along the carpet on his to the adjoining ensuite.

Squinting into the darkness of the room, Peter relieves himself quickly, tipping his head back, sighing softly as his body relaxes. After a moment he flushes and washes his hands, and if he’s already here he might as well brush his teeth too, right?

Free of morning breath he makes quick work of crawling back into bed. It’s still warm from where he left it. Perfect. He resumes the same position as before, pressing against Tony’s broad and delightfully sleep-warm body. Even in slumber, the older man guides his arm to cup the low of Peter's waist like before.

But no matter how comfortably he settles, sleep doesn’t come back. The mistake is checking the time on his smart watch.

Six-forty-four in the morning. Too early to be awake on a day off. Not early enough to justify going back to sleep on any other day.

Goddammit.

Gingerly, Peter turns over to his other side to face Tony, helplessly smiling when he emits another loud snore.

Gently as he can muster, he raises trails his finger down the narrow slope of his husband's nose, tracing down the curve of his nostril, following down the path on his worn smile lines. Unable to stop his own smile he leans in, pressing the print of his lips to the corner of Tony’s mouth before retreating back, hoping he has sweet dreams. The unconscious grab at his hip as he slips out of the bed is almost enough to lure him back in.

Almost.

Shivering at the loss of heat, Peter heads to the drawer, near naked, the satin of his boxers the only warmth he is afforded from the cool room as he pads along the soft carpet. He slips on a pair of running shorts, socks and finally fishes the sneakers from under their bed, lacing them up quietly as the snores continue.

“You’re a fucking chainsaw,” he whispers to Tony, embarrassed by his own fondness.

He leans over to kiss his husband lightly on the forehead before he slips out of the house.

Early sunrise paints the sky a mild grey. This far out, there’s still a couple of stars out and the slim curve of the moon beginning to fade as the morning light emerges. He stretches quickly on the porch to warm up a little, the air still cool despite it being a mid-July morning.

Setting off in a light jog as he exits their property, Peter waves to their neighbours as he passes. Music pumping, he picks up a moderate pace, yelling an enthusiastic hello to Mr Moore as he retrieves his newspaper from the lawn, offering the same Mrs Bowen shoo’s her the neighborhood cats away from her flower beds with a broom.

It’s not a particularly busy suburban street. It consists of mostly retirees and their visiting kin, childless couples who drive Toyota four-doors and suburbia-stricken Jeeps and empty nesters.

The rest are Tony’s employees. One of whom shadows Peter as he sprints down the footpath, about as subtle as bull in a china-shop.

Trying his luck, as he does everyday, Peter raises his hand in a friendly welcome to the person running behind him. He isn’t sure who it is today, doesn’t look back for appearance sake, but the steps are heavy and uniform enough to know it’s no coincidence.

When Peter first started dating Tony, they argued night and day over the detail. From bickering over babying escalating into arguments over agency, slammed doors and ignored texts, ‘breaks’ that weren’t as much breaks as they were breathers. A leash, Peter called it in those early days, of the non-consensual, not-sexy variety. Not to mention the furious, heated make-up sex that would always come after.

Those were the days.

After six years together they’d come to a happy medium. They had settled on a mutually beneficial compromise. Peter got the house in the suburbs that he’d always envisioned and Tony got his best men armed to the teeth just a yard-sale away.

Perfect.

Nonetheless as Peter finishes his circuit and returns home, he’s glad he put his foot down on not having guards stationed at the entry and exits of their suburban property. They adjusted to one another's needs, that’s what relationships are all about, right? Tony’s men owned four houses in the busy street and their home was jerry-rigged to decimate all unauthorised intruders upon visual confirmation from JARVIS.

But at least Peter got the house in the suburbs. He’s going to convince Tony to get a pet, next.

Back inside, Peter kicks off his sneakers and locks the door behind him. All four of them. The emptiness of the house, evident in the absence of the music that ordinarily fills their home must mean that Tony is still in bed.

“Lazy ass,” Peter mutters, trying to pull back on the reigns of overwhelming fondness so as to not smile at nothing in his own living room. He does it anyway.

It isn’t until minutes later that he’s staring forlornly at their barren pantry and fridge that Tony wanders into the kitchen, snaking his strong arms around Peter's waist from behind, pressing a sleepy, prickly kiss to his jaw.

“Morning, baby,” he croaks, still sleep-warm against Peter’s rapidly cooling body.

“Morning, mister,” Peter tilts his head back, placing a kiss on Tony’s lips, shifting back slightly until their bodies are flushed together, snorting lightly when he feels something hard in Tony’s sweats.

“Oh my,” he gasps, falsely aghast. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“It’s a gun,” Tony confirms, the stretch of his smirk palpable on Peter’s skin. “Colt Python, you know the one. But I’m also very happy to see you, don’t fret.”

Tony’s hips hunch forward. True to his word, there are twin sensations against his backside, rutting against his lower body without shame. “See? All for you. You making breakfast?”

“You tell me,” Peter squeezes Tony’s forearms and settles into his hold. He nods towards the lone, sagging tomato in their fridge and the stale, single line of crackers resting in the cupboard. “Got any ideas?”

“I can think of something I’d like to eat.”

Peter squirms, rocking back on his heels as Tony kisses a line up his neck, facial hair prickling his skin. Heat coils pleasantly in his stomach and his toes curl in his sneakers.

“Stop. I’m -- Tony, stop -- I’m sweaty and gross. I stink.”

“Nope, not true,” he noses along the sensitive upside of Peter’s jaw. “You smell great. But if you’re bothered we can shower together. Great idea.”

His stomach growls again, swooping low. “I’m hungry,” Peter rebuts, turning around in Tony’s embrace to pout directly in his face, hoping he looks sad and forlorn. “I’m feeling faint.”

Tony looks unperturbed. “Well, alternatively, there is something I could feed you, if that’s your preference. Straight from the source.”

Peter groans and swats Tony’s chest, frankly unsure of what he expected

“You’re such a lech. Get help.”

“I’ve tried, darling, but it’s no use,” Tony sighs sadly, squeezing his hips. “You’re just too sexy.”

Peter disagrees, walking Tony backwards until his body makes contact with the kitchen bench, trailing a finger up his chest and poking him lightly in the sternum.

“Yeah? That’s not what you said when I made you take out the trash last night.”

“Well, that’s because trash isn’t sexy.”

Peter pokes him again. “And yet I stay married to you.”

“Ouch,” Tony blinks, slapping a hand to his chest. “Wow. That is uncalled for. You’re calling me trash. I’m reduced to garbage now?”

“Yes,” he pecks Tony’s lips, snickering at his offended face. “I guess I’m just not me when I’m hungry. Can we go out for something to eat, please? I’ll be nice.”

“You gonna shower first? You do actually stink, I mean. Like, really bad.”

Prying himself out of the hold, Peter tries to the best of his ability a sense of mock outrage as Tony reels him back in with an apologetic hug, even as a smile tugs at his own lips.

“You gonna brush your teeth?” Peter dips his chin, deepening his voice to mimic his husbands. “Because wow , your morning breath is bad. Rank.”

The older man looks amused, biting his lips and blinking coquettishly like he always does when he’s up to something.

“What.”

“Nothing,” Tony shrugs, still smiling. “Just wondering if you wanted to keep talking - or if you wanted to shut up and let me go down on you in the shower.”

Peter tilts his head to the side, considering it for a moment.

“Do I have to shut up while you go down on me in the shower?”

Tony’s hand is back on his heart again.

“Absolutely not. I encourage you to be as vocal as possible. Wake the neighbours.”

“Deal.”

---

After thoroughly working up an appetite whilst showering, the call for groceries couldn’t wait any longer.

It’s hardly their favourite domestic activity, but delivery just is not an option. Not only for the obvious security concerns, given Tony’s occupation, but also simply because Peter hates someone else picking out his vegetables. They always give you the bad ones, he thinks, he’s had enough sad zucchinis to know.

Still, the way Tony had sighed and rolled his eyes as Peter packed their canvas bags into the car was rather uncalled for.

Tony did agree to accompany him on one solid condition, however. Breakfast first.

“Okay,” Peter agreed. “Something healthy though.”

“Oh yeah,” Tony had nodded. “Definitely.”

---

Should have known better than to trust a dirty crook.

---

Their breakfast pit-stop, much to Peters dismay, was more grease laden than he’d hoped for. He grumbles as Tony pulls into the nearest car-park, understanding now why Tony insisted on driving.

Don’t get him wrong, he enjoys gooey melted American cheese on a beef patty as much as the next guy, but the taste isn't enough to diminish his mounting disapproval as Tony downs one cheeseburger after another, washing them down with soda and fries.

“You have a heart condition,” Peter frowns, slapping the bag of fries from his husband's hands as he brings them to his lap. “What are you doing?”

Potato goes flying over the dashboard, smearing oil over the detail in its wake.

Tony blinks.

“Wow. Now that’s just a waste,” he fishes a napkin from the bag and wipes the dashboard with it. “You know this interior is original, right? Vintage, 1973. You do? Just making sure.”

Peter knows. Tony won the car in a poker game against Hammer two years ago. Then he leaked his money laundering to the press. He hasn’t shut up about it since.

Peter fishes out the chicken salad he knows he ordered from the paper bag, flinging it at Tony who catches it easily.

“You promised something healthy. Eat the salad, Tony.”

“Eat the salad, Tony,” his husband mimics, even as he pries open the plastic lid of the leafy meal. “God, look at this thing. It’s miserable,” he spears into it with his plastic fork, shovelling it into his mouth and not looking happy about it. “It looks like clinical depression if it were a meal. Like a metaphor for erectile dysfunction. Pathetic.”

“Are you done bitching?”

Tony feeds himself another mouthful of the limp greens before leaning closer to chew grotesquely in Peter’s ear. “There. Happy, darling?”

Peter winds down the window so the cabin doesn’t reek of red onion.

“Ecstatic.”

—-

Peter is often asked where he and Tony met.

He tells his colleagues and close friends that they met in through their jobs. Look, it’s not a total lie. Except, he says that Tony worked as a consultant to the State-Board for Education and Peter was luckily enough to be invited to some event, somewhere, at some time and at some place where they happened to cross paths and meet. After hitting it off, the rest was history.

Few question it, envious and charmed by their story. A young man meets the man of his dreams, they fall in love, and spend their days happily married, leaving a dreamy white picket fence life.

The fairy-tale ending is real. The reality of how they got it is another story.

Six years ago, rushing to his shift at the grocery store, Peter had accidentally rammed his bicycle into some guys who ran into his path on one cold Sunday, morning in the heart of Flushing, Queens.

At first, Peter hadn’t noticed the gun flying into the mouth of the alley, too busy apologising to hear the clang of metal on concrete. It wasn’t until one of the men, now disarmed, fled the scene that he realised that he’d interrupted Tony’s would-be execution.

A thank-you-coffee was followed by a thank-you-date. Then, Peter got asked on real dates. Real dates led to real kisses that weren’t just a thank you but I like you and then, eventually, I love you.

But it was the I trust you that cemented Peter in Tony’s world.

So maybe Tony wasn’t really a consultant. Maybe Peter fell for Tony, the man, the provider, the person who seemed to have an interest in politics and community as much as he did about the perfect placement of his hair, or ensuring Peter’s comfort and willing consent at any given time.

And he never asked Peter to be a part of the business. Tony’s job was just as important as his own and he always reiterated that.

Which was good, because Peter loves his job. At twenty-six feels, Peter feels like his life is where it’s supposed to be. And maybe he was a local, humble high-school teacher, sure, but he still grew up on the internet. He’d looked into Tony before their first date. You know. Basic database searches like missing persons, most wanted and sex-offender registers. Luckily, Google actually said Tony was a consultant.

He even had his own LinkedIn.

Although further and not-so-legal inspections of encrypted government databases - thanks, Ned - told a different tale.

It was sort of true? Nothing happened in New York without Tony being consulted. Even working remotely he had NYC eating from the palm of his hand.

And Peter?

“I want spaghetti,” Peter decides, reaching for a packet of dried pasta, the plastic wrapping crinkling under his hand as he places it in the shopping cart.

“Spaghetti,” Tony repeats, eyeing Peter dubiously.

“Uh-huh,” Peter nods, eyeing the aisle for an accompanying sauce. “With meatballs. Oh, oh - and parmesan.”

“Spaghetti and meatballs.”

Peter blinks. “Yes. And parmesan. I literally just said that. Oh ohhh, and garlic bread, good thinking,” he says, adding it to his list for when they hit the freezer aisle.

Tony snatches the packet of pasta from the cart and inspects it with evident distaste. “You want spaghetti and meatballs with dry pasta.”

“Oh my god,” Peter groans, snatching the packet back. He throws it back into the cart, swerving it around an older lady eyeing the macaroni. “Stop. I am not having this discussion again. You know how I feel about fresh, c’mon. It tastes weird.”

“Yeah, weirdo,” Tony nods as they round into the next aisle. He takes a couple of diced tomato cans, perusing their label as they talk. “It tastes like how pasta is supposed to taste.”

The man carrying a concealed weapon shadowing their steps some twelve feet away snorts in amusement. He has the good sense to look properly chastened when Peter looks back, unimpressed.

“Are you suggesting my tastes are unrefined?”

“Yes. Profoundly.”

“Yeah, well, your face is unrefined,” Peter deliberately throws a jar of not-fresh parmesan into the cart as he spots it, ignoring Tony’s grimace. “And also, considering you can’t actually cook, and I’m the dumbass that'll be sweating over a stove to cook it for you, maybe shut up?”

“My face is perfect,” Tony sniffs. “You’re rude. You know what? I’m taking my vows back.”

Peter snorts.

“Okay, cool. I hate being tied down anyway.”

“Same,” Tony shakes his head at the man shadowing them. “Can’t wait to be rid of this old ball and chain.

“I know, right? Well, goodbye, I guess.”

“Great. See ya.”

“Hey, you wanna help me clean the fridge when we get back?”

“Okay.”

Maybe their lives don’t mesh well on a surface level - king of the underbelly and a high school teacher - but they each make concessions in their daily lives to make each other happy.

Tony, bless his soul, acknowledges that Peter will never give up his job or make fettuccine from scratch, and Peter realises that there will always be corrupt politicians and black markets that need the guiding hand of a good man. Even if he doesn’t like bloodshed.

Tony never hurt anybody that didn’t deserve it. And no matter how much Peter cares, the underworld is always going to be there. Blackmarkets were always going to run regardless of how much he gave a shit. It was all about management, he'd learned.

Tony was that guy. In fact, if you ask him, couldn’t be a better guy overseeing it. And Peter was there, right behind him. It’s all about balance, you know?

Yeah.

It was never about turning a blind eye. But it kept everyone happy to make small adjustments.

Like when they’re waiting for the number to be called at a deli counter. A short, thin woman cuts in front of the pair just at the moment their number is called, immediately talks over them to get her order in.

Having stood waiting for the better part of ten minutes, his husband audibly had audibly tutted in vexation.

“Anthony,” Peter chides when he hears the sound of the hammer being pulled back in whatever firearm is in Tony’s pocket. “Stop it.”

Tony retrieves his hand from his jacket, raising it in a gesture of innocence. “What?”

“This isn’t the Wild West. You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“It’s called being courteous. She was rude. Don’t you think she was rude?” he asks one of the men waiting beside them, who only offers a bewildered look in return. Tony huffs, turning his attention back to Peter. “Ridiculous. I’ve flayed for that kind of disrespect.”

Heads whip in their direction, including the woman who had cut in front of them, accompanied by a chorus of scandalised gasps.

“Figuratively, of course,” Tony refers to the crowd, offering a charming grin.

Several shift away from the couple and no one argues when they place their order next.

Peter sighs.

---

Lunch was a truly enormous serving of tomato soup and a veritable tower of stacked grilled cheese, courtesy of Peter’s growling stomach.

After arriving home with the groceries, having foregone breakfast, he was truly beyond hangry by the time everything was unpacked. Canned soup. Single-pack cheese, good god that was the kind of haute cuisine he was hankering for after his morning. Even Tony wolfed it down. However petulant he looked whilst doing so.

“Was lunch okay?” he asked, reaching over and wiping the crumbs from Tony’s beard with his thumb. “Up to your highness' standard?”

“Impeccable, sweetpea,” Tony smiled, setting his spoon into the near empty bowl. “Five stars.”

“Good.”

You’re so unrefined, Peter mimics petulantly in his head, feeling vindicated as Tony scoops up the, quote, ‘sodium cocktail’ with his bread crusts. Although the glare that Tony fixed him as they watched Gordon Ramsay swearing a storm on the TV gave him the impression that Tony knew exactly what he was thinking.

Whatever.

It didn’t stop Peter from sprawling across the length of the sofa to rest his head in Tony’s lap once he’d set his bowl aside, shifting, making himself comfortable. Nor did it stop Tony from unbuttoning his jeans and unzipping his fly, casually, as if to make room for the meal he’d consumed.

Inhaled, more like it, Peter thinks victoriously.

“We should get a cat,” he mumbles, comfortably full. He edges closer to his husband's body, smiling when fingers begin to card through his hair.

“No.”

“Yes. You like cats.”

“We're not getting a cat.”

“Why not,” Peter nuzzles closer to Tony’s crotch, the scent and the heat inexplicably comforting, pressing a kiss just above his groin. A low heat rises in his gut, comfortable and unhurried.

“We are not trading sexual favours for a discussion on pet ownership,” Tony warns, although his voice is soft and the fingers in his hair continue his gentle ministrations. “A discussion you will be losing, by the way.”

No he won’t. He’s going to blow Tony’s mind through his dick.

Or he will in a moment. His body feels heavy, lethargic with satiety, like he’s encased in concrete, sinking, sinking… sinking...

Yeah. He just… needs to rest his eyes first.

“You wanna suck me?” Tony asks softly, brushing his knuckles against Peter’s cheek, his voice low.

“Yeah,” Peter affirms, blinking, eyelids heavy with the impending food coma. But he can do it. “I can,” he mumbles, tongue thick in his mouth, lethargy impeding the eagerness of his hands.

He yawns, snuffling closer to Tony's groin. “I can... do it.”

Tony snorts down at him, thumb gently stroking over his eyebrow. He says something to Peter, like don’t strain yourself , but maybe it was a dream.

So is the case when he falls asleep to the furious swearing of the Scottish chef, fingers raking through his hair, his body conforming to the indents of their old sofa cushions. Sleep comes to him with his legs curled against the backrest, his own breath hot against his face, Mr Marley mowing his lawn a couple of yards over. Tony’s fingers in his hair.

When he wakes an indeterminate length of time later it’s to knuckles stroking his cheek softly and the declining afternoon sun streaming unfiltered through the west-facing windows.

Peter blinks, assessing the man sitting beside him.

“You’re wearing a suit,” he says dumbly, brain still foggy. “Are we role playing?”

Tony smiles. “No, baby. Don’t I wish. I gotta go to work.”

Still sleepy, he doesn’t immediately register what Tony has said until a couple of moments pass, and his heart drops to the floor at the announcement. As he does, he tries to resist the involuntary pout at the news, but the effort fails if Tony’s sad smile is anything to go by.

“No,” he says, voice small. “Tony. It’s our weekend off together. You promised.”

“I know, bug, I’m sorry,” the older man leans forward to place a kiss on his forehead before standing up. “It’s not fair. I’m just as mad as you are.”

“Why?”

“Happy called. One of Mayor Ross’s aides is threatening us with the feds. Gotta step in this time and pretend to be the boss. You know, show of authority. Make someone piss their pants.”

“You are the boss,” he yawns, smacking his lips, watching as his husband adjusts his tie above him. “But you owe me.”

“That because you’re the boss of me?”

“Uh-huh.”

Tony nods. “Alright. Name your price.”

Peter smirks, melting back against the cushions and kicking his feet up on the far armrest.

“School fundraiser, June thirtieth. You and me at a table. You’re gonna use that pretty face and charm of yours to help me sell cookies.”

Tony groans, leaning his forearms over the armrest above Peter’s head.

“You do know that you are the devil, right? You’re in the dictionary next to the definition of ‘heinous’.”

Peter grins.

“Clearly you don’t love me,” Tony tries. “I hate school fundraisers. You know this.”

“I do know this,” he says smugly, stretching his arms upwards on a yawn, fingers gripping his husband's tie on the descent. He uses the hold to tug him closer. “Do you know how many papers I set aside for tomorrow to have this day off together? Do you have any idea what I had planned? I’m mad at you. Livid, even.”

“Can I at least buy out the cookies and cake?”

“And get away with abandoning me? Uhh, let me think -- no.”

Tony sighs, shifting above him. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“I know. It’s why you married me.”

“One of the reasons why I married you.”

“Uh-huh. Go away. Be home for dinner.”

“Will do,” Tony affirms, allowing himself to be tugged by his tie until he’s dragged into an upside-down kiss. “Wait, one more for luck,” he says after a moment, leaning in and kissing Peter again.

“I hate you,” Peter mumbles against his lips. “I’m making that spaghetti and you’re gonna pretend to like it.”

“Love you too,” Tony whispers, fond, closing his eyes and planting a final wet peck on Peter’s cheek. He whispers, as Peter yawns again. “I’ll see you soon, speed racer. Don’t burn the house down.”

With that Tony leaves, the sound of door closing signalling Peter’s solitude.

If Tony’s previous ‘quick stops’ are of any worthy precedent, Peter’s in for a couple of hours of boredom.

They should really get a pet, Peter thinks, falling back into twitchy micro-sleeps once he’s alone.

With the low-slinging sun still in his eyes, sleep again eludes him for the second time that day and he can no longer drown out the cheer of children next door and the barking dog on the street over, the summer-time squeak of ill-oiled bicycles and the approaching twilight chorus of cicadas.

Retrieving his phone from his pocket, Peter goes down the YouTube rabbit-hole.

---

By the time he drags himself off the couch at least an hour later, Peter’s watched more episodes of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives than he’d like to admit, hypnotised by the food stuck in Guy Fieri’s incredible goatee.

God. Now he wants nacho chicken wings.

Stretching as he stands, Peter makes work of shutting all of the open curtains in the house, switching on the lamps in the living room and hallway lights as he goes. He keeps the kitchen window open and leaves the screen-door as it is to allow the cool evening air to drift through the house.

He does ensure he locks it, however, mindful of how much Tony hates it when the reinforced door behind it isn’t closed as well. Which is stupid. They have a reinforced door. It has six locks on it. Six.

Explaining that at their housewarming was a real trip.

Smiling at the memory, Peter heads to the kitchen. The house is definitely too quiet, he reckons, and switches on the old radio May gave him when he moved out. He turns it up as loud as it can go, tuning it to whatever station doesn’t come out distorted from the dated speakers.

Tonight, that station was the oldies. To Petunia Clark he peruses through the now more abundant trove of food they had to retrieve the necessary ingredients for dinner. Tomatoes, onion, garlic. Fresh basil picked from the pot on the window sill.

Sometimes he can’t believe how his life turned out. When he thinks back to the young kid from Queens who only had his aunt to impress with his cooking, his skills acquired from his time at Neds, Delmars and online tutorials, from that college kid who lived on packet ramen and energy drinks.

Still does, sometimes, when he thinks he can get away with stashing the packets of Mi Goreng where his husband can’t see them.

Tony keeps threatening to refine his palette. He hasn’t succeeded yet, but Peter suspects it's due to lack of trying.

Or hope.

The song changes again, and to the highs and lows of Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline Peter gets the sauce simmering in a pan, dah-dah-dah-ing under his breath, shimmying his hips and using the wooden spoon as a microphone as the music sweeps inside him. By the time the song ends, the stove backsplash is rendered in streaks of burst tomato but it’s fine, he’ll clean it up later.

It’s not until the pasta is near ready that the front-yard sensor light blinks on and the front door creaks open.

It’s a testimony to Tony’s light footwork that Peter doesn’t notice he’s been crept up on until arms wrap around his waist from behind, startling him as he’s draining the pasta.

“Honey, I’m home,” Tony whispers, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

Peter smiles, setting the pasta aside on the bench to grip Tony’s forearms as the older man guides their hips to sway to the music.

“How was work?”

“Absolute murder,” he presses a line of kisses across Peter’s jaw, goatee tickling his skin. “And before you ask, yes that is a gun in my pocket.”

“Does that man you’re not happy to see me?” Peter queries, setting the strainer aside and turning in his husband's arms. Settling his hands on Tony’s hips, his dumb mouth can’t help but echo the other man's fond smile when their eyes meat.

“I’m very happy to see you, always,” Tony pecks his lips, pausing. “I bought apology wine. Château Lafite 1787, you’ll like it. Come, let me get you a glass.”

Before Tony gets too far, Peter tugs him back by the wrist to face him.

“Wait, hang on,” he mumbles. Without looking away he brings his thumb to his mouth and licks it. “You’ve got a… thing...”

Bringing his spit-slicked thumb to Tony’s cheek, Peter rubs away at the long smear of blood that he’d spotted moments earlier, deep red and markedly drying in the bristles of Tony’s beard.

“How did that not get on your shirt,” Peter muses, digging the digit in to remove the remaining dried flakes until it’s clear. Satisfied with his work, he steps back and nods. “Okay, Mister-Man, you’re free to go and wash up.”

“Thank you, dear,” Tony says dryly. “You know how messy Barnes gets.”

“I recall. Does Barnes know that it’s a bitch to get arterial spray out of whites?”

“Why do you think he only wears black?”

“The aesthetic.”

Tony snorts, uncorking the wine, leaving Peter to finish plating up their meal.

They take their bowls and drinks over to the sofa, settling close together amongst the cushions. Tony shifts, knocking their elbows together to unmute the nightly news on the TV, leaving the remote lying in the groove between their thighs.

The first few mouthfuls are initially silent, both too ravenous to do more than groan with every slippery slide of noodles into their mouth.

“Mmm,” Tony drops his fork to the bowl with a clang, wiping the stray sauce from his mouth with a tissue from his pocket, throat bobbing as he swallows. “Baby, this is divine. Did you make this sauce from scratch?”

Peter nods, still chewing a bite of meatball. He swallows, twirling his fork into the pasta. “S’it okay? Thought it might offset the pasta taste. I used the basil from the windowsill.”

Tony leans over to press a kiss to Peters lips, his breath against his mouth all rich red-wine and tomato tartness, like all of their good nights before. He chases it with a peck of his own before resuming his attention to his meal.

“It’s amazing. Five stars and I’m not even being facetious. Thanks for cooking, chef.”

“S’ok,” Peter shrugs, a little bashful. With his free hand he picks up the remote and turns up the volume as the news program returns back from the ad break.

“And in breaking news,” the news anchor reads, stony faced and staring directly into the camera, “Paul Morello, aid and confidant to Mayor Ross, has been reported missing since last Wednesday. Close sources to Morello say he was last seen outside of his office getting into his vehicle three days ago. His girlfriend of four weeks says he hasn’t been home since he left that same morning.”

Peter snorts, shovelling another helping of spaghetti into his mouth. God, this would have gone so good with garlic bread, he thinks mournfully, wishing they’d bought a frozen loaf from the store and mentally adding it to his next shopping list.

“Please,” Tony huffs. “We only had Morello since this morning. Two of my girls had him before that. Which was an actual coincidence, believe it or not. Got mouthy when they demanded a condom.”

“Scumbag,” Peter concurs, sipping the wine. It’s pleasantly tart. “Did you give the girls a tip?”

“Sure did,” Tony knocks their glasses together. “Was just gonna cut off a finger at first, but turns out he has a list of buried charges that makes Brock Turner look like a choir boy -- or, well, had a list. Past tense."

“Good riddance,” Peter tilts his head back and downs the rest of his wine.

---

Long after the food is demolished and the food-coma state has passed in a daze, Peter remembers his promise from earlier.

While Tony’s attention is on his phone, scrolling through a Reuters article about himself, Peter takes the opportunity to slink down off the sofa onto his knees and position himself between the older man's legs. Curling his hands under Tony’s thighs, he kisses his way up from bend at his knee to the junction of his groin where he noses interestedly at the soft mound at the centre.

He mouths at it, peering up through his eyelashes, silently requesting attention at the same time Tony looks down. The man wastes little time in setting his phone aside and cupping Peter’s face with his hands.

“First a world class meal and now this?” Tony sighs, running his fingers through Peter’s hair as his zip is lowered. “I don’t fucking deserve you.”

“Hey, I decide that,,” Peter gently reprimands, tugging down Tony’s slacks, watching reverently as his half-hard length springs from the fabric to rest lazily against Tony’s hip. “And I’m feeling kinda generous, so. Take it or leave it.”

Tony reaches a hand down to caress the lobe of Peter's ear, the corner of his lips quirking sideways. His legs spread further to accommodate the width of Peter’s shoulders.

“Well, if you say so. Guess I better take it.”

Peter licks the tip of his cock, grimacing when his cheek comes into contact with something harder than Tony’s cock.

“Actually, can you just remove the loaded firearm from your pocket, just -- I don’t want it going off in my face? I -- yeah. Thanks. Sorry.”

Tony sighs, fishing out and dropping the weapon on the coffee table.

“Perfect,” Peter nods. “Glock 33. Nice. On second thought, wanna pop that in the safe and I’ll meet you back here pants-down? Cool?”

Tony shakes his head, his cock bobbing as he stands.

“So cool.”

---

Peter sighs softly against the back of Tony’s neck when the sliver of sunlight hits his eyes.

As usual, sleep doesn’t return to him easily once it’s lost, and unlike the previous morning, he doesn’t attempt to fall back under. The humidity of his own breath is uncomfortably warm against his chin. His bladder, full again, presses against his husband's warm body, soft cock against his lower back.

Tony, predictably, continues to snore.

Peter leaves the bed and tiptoes to the adjacent bathroom to pee. When he returns, he closes the curtain, mindful of his nakedness, then returns to the bed.

Deciding to make best use of his time awake, Peter spends the early hours of the morning under the sheets. Shifting down the mattress, he spreads Tony’s cheeks and buries his face between them.

The snores quickly turn into groans.

This is the life. Having his sleeping dragon of a husband kicking out his feet in his sleep, moaning wetly into his pillow as Peter eats him out. He always takes Peter so well, even in sleep. With his face flushed, breathless, it’s no hardship for Peter to tenderly attend to the musky furl of skin, tight again despite their recent loving.

It was magnificent. Even half-asleep, Peter couldn't allow it to go without worship on a Sunday morning.

His jaw is sore by the time Tony comes, his hips driving his release into the sheets. After taking a moment to catch his breath, chest heaving with the aftershock of his orgasm, Tony flips over onto his back, squinting up to the ceiling.

Peter crawls back up, pressing a line of kisses up Tony’s sternum to the hollow of his collarbone. Arms wrap around him tightly until they’re chest-to-chest, sticky with sweat. This close, Peter can feel the rhythmic beating of Tony’s racing heart.

“D’you wan’ me to…?” Tony mumbles, mouth going slack.

“I’m good, go back to sleep.”

“‘Kay. Love you.”

“Love you more,” he whispers.

Later, Peter is going to bring up the idea of adopting a cat again. He’s going to wear Tony down, he knows it.

But that can wait, for now.

Smiling, Peter hooks his leg over Tony's hip, kisses the back of his neck as tenderly as he can muster, and lets the darkness pull him back under.

#starker #starker fic #ironspider #domestic au #day in the life #teacher!peter #criminal!tony #i dont know what this is

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