#Owner House

[ashamaxxing]

mom come pick me up they’re defending the divine right of kings on asoiaf twitter again

[just-null]

Yknow that pic where that drunk lady kissed lipstick marks all over her cat? All I can imagine is doing this to the clones each time I get home

POINTS AT MY PET AU

[the pic in question!]

[justarandomart]

Hunter adopting all the lost/abandoned palismen my beloved

[uncleclaudius]

The base of a table with lion paws and heads. The top was probably made of wood and decayed over time. The inscription bears the name of the original owner whom archaeologists identify as Publius Servilius Casca Longus, the first of Caesar's assassins to strike him. Casca died in the Battle of Phillipi and his property was auctioned off by Octavian which is how the table ended up in a luxurious villa in Pompeii. It might also have been considered a historical curiosity at that time, just as it is now.

[womenstruation]

It always angers me when people say that men would not put in so much effort to enact their violence on women and children because they do exactly that.

I was only seven when I learnt about just how hard men try to deceive the world so they can have free reign over young girls. I went on a Brownie trip to an orphanage back when I lived in Nigeria. The orphanage was just for girls which isn't uncommon, and it was massive, with its own school, shops, clinic etc. The girls had no reason to leave. It was set up by a pastor- a Nigerian who'd moved back from abroad.

I remember while we were there, one of the girls had just had a baby. She had seemed so old to me but looking back, she must have been around sixteen or seventeen. I remember my mum seemed suspicious when we were told the girl had run away and returned pregnant. She seemed even more so when we met the owner.

A year or two later, there was news on the radio. The man who had set up the orphanage had raped and impregnated several girls, selling their babies to prospective parents. I didn't even understand what rape meant back then but I remember my mum being devastated. Looking back, I think she might have felt guilty, perhaps she'd seen the signs: the girls not being allowed to leave the compound; teenage girls ending up pregnant. It seemed so obvious.

But no one questioned a man who used all of his money to build and set up a home for vulnerable girls, he was a pastor, educated, well-travelled. He could never have done something so cruel. But he did.

When I was writing this post, I tried to find any articles but I couldn't. They were just so many identical cases, man sets up orphanage, rapes and abuses children in the orphanage. Different cases, different years, one as recent as 2023. What I learnt back then and know for sure is that men would do anything, no matter how difficult or expensive, anything to have access to people they can abuse.

[mimishouseofyarn]

Handmade sunflower blanket, took a year to finish it

🌻✨️ Check out my etsy ✨️🌻

[preposterousjams]

one of the reasons i dislike fanon jason calling tim "replacement" because it doesn't have the same drama as canon Jason calling him "The pretender." For those who don't know UK history, the pretenders are the false claimants to the throne, James III/VIII and Charles III who were the son and grandson of the exiled James II. Both tried to place themselves as the monarchs of the UK but flopped in battle. So Jason calling tim the pretender is so so petty and definitely intentional from the writers. Its less of "you replaced me" and more of "you can try to replace me but everyone knows ur not the shit."

[tls123]

thirty-one days of jiujiu(ly) — 2024 edition // day twenty-four + with bonus trauma a-niang, a-xian, jinzhu, and yinzhu ! + find the 2022 edition here

[orcinus-veterinarius]

Me: Why does no one crate train their dog anymore?

Me, scrolling the comments on a cute video of a puppy sleeping in a comfortable crate: I’m starting to understand why all the dogs at work act like they’ve never been crated in their life.

[teaboot]

I used to dream of finding Home.

Somewhere between my tweens and my teens, the house my family lived in stopped feeling like a comfortable pocket where I belonged and started feeling more like a roomshare with strangers.

I'd read a lot of books. A lot of stories about outsiders and misfits who fell into grand adventures that led them into perfect little keyhole they were destined to slide into. I thought that someday, in a much less exciting or eventful way, the same would happen to me. If I worked very hard to be good and kind and forgiving then I'd stumble into Home.

It never happened.

I moved from town to city to country, and didn't find it. Every building felt the same, no matter how long I stayed. None of them felt natural, or easy, or safe.

I was living in a dilapidated loft above a busted-out mortuary when I figured it out.

No running water. No heat. No AC. No furniture or mattress or internet, and a dusty bathroom with a broken toilet and a sink inexplicably pre-filled with cigarette butts, and it finally clicked.

I ripped out the old carpet. Swept the floors. Taped the sun out of the windows with foil and foam and big black garbage bags. Cleaned off an old shelf, stole a cot, piled all my blankets on top of it, painted pictures and taped them to the walls and spray-painted a mural and leaned a tarnished old mirror up against the wall.

I found a room divider in an old office room and took a lamp left out with the trash and set up an empty coffee pot with cheap silk flowers. Hung a shower curtain in the morgue and turned a storage bin into a bath and hooked my towel on a loose nail stuck into the wall.

And when I left, and left everything behind, I found another little empty hole in the world and did it all over again.

That's something I don't think I could have learned from all my stories. It's not something very interesting to read about, some lonely stranger puttering about by themselves in a hot, dark room. But it's important to share it, I think, so I've done my best.

I think that a Place is a beast, and to make it a Home, you have to dig in your claws and fight for it, tooth and nail.

Then, once you've tired it out, string up lights below it's ribcage and pet it nice between the ears until it purrs.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

They started out with one flag.

And quickly progressed. It didn't sell, so the owner, who is very arrogant, took it off the market and is selling it himself. No interior pics, and he raised the price from $575k to $600k. 4bds, 3ba, 2,395 sq ft.

He says: All calls are being screened. If you don’t hear back from me, that means I have no interest in selling my home to you.

If my home sells in a day a week a year or even 10 years, I will get to where I’m going when I get there.

A colorful home in the neighborhood that’s not as colorful, centrally located between 50 and 80.

(This picture was conveniently left out.) He goes on to say: If you don’t like the color you can paint if you don’t like this landscaping that’s your business not mine.

The swimming pool needs a complete rehab.

Found 2 pics of the interior. He says: The price is firm if you one of those clever people share that attitude with somebody else I’m not interested. Don’t ask for interior pictures you’ll be wasting my time.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/8190-Walnut-Fair-Cir-Fair-Oaks-CA-95628/26055757_zpid/?

[meowpupp]

hiii can I request some fluff with puppy reader and Price pleaseeeee

(injury & comfort)

Price comes home to find reader with a bloody bandage around her fingers and palm from accidentally dropping a glass of water. she’s so desperate to clean it, scared he would get mad at her but he actually doesn’t gaf abt the mess and just wants to take care of his sweetheart 😓🙏

poor puppy girl who stands in front of the bathroom sink, tears blurring her vision as she desperately tries to wash away the blood. bandages are already set out, a trashbag full of broken glass and bloody tissues sitting in the corner of the room.

heart beating quickly, the feeling of fear almost making you choke. your hands are shaky as you dry them, the towel spotting bright red now. you don't even notice as price enters the house, door as he approaches, hands reaching for your wrists.

his heart breaks as you yelp, teary eyes wide and scared. you look so little, vulnerable. "shhh, s'okay puppy. show me." his voice is soft and rumbly, but still has the undertone of dominance that makes you instantly obey.

your hands tremble as you let him take them, blood still slowly seeping from the cut. "sorry, m so sorry, didn't- didn't mean to make a mess. I tried to clean the glass up, im sorry-"

he cuts you off, kissing the cut on your finger. prices eyes are soft and warm as they meet yours. "you're okay sweetheart. youre not in trouble love, just an accident." he pulls you tight, back against his chest.

he talks you through it, describing each step he goes through as he bandages your hand. he knows the deep rasp of his voice calms you, providing both comfort and distraction.

he uses the bandaids he specifically bought for you. brightly coloured with your favourite character on them.

once he's done, price turns you around. one big arm wraps around your back, the other tangling in your hair as he pulls you close. he gently shushes you, letting you feel the rhythm of his breath, breathe in the musk and cigar scent that clings to him.

"never need to apologise for living sweetheart. would never be mad over an accident," he kisses the side of your head, "you're safe here, I've got you sweet girl. such a good pup for trying to clean it up, m'sorry you got hurt baby,"

he smiles softly as you finally relax, unable to resist the warmth and warmth he radiates, "my precious girl. so, so good f'me."

[macksartblock]

Welcome to Mack Hurt His Wrist Earlier This Week and now that it’s feeling better he still refuses to do anything more than rough sketching lol

[louisjude]

don’t know how to explain it but tommy’s house should be cozy. it’s one of those houses that feels really lived in. it’s not been updated since it was built renovation wise. all the interior is original. it’s one of those houses that’s got books everywhere, tons of blankets and the cabinets are stuffed to the brim with snacks and seasonings. he has entirely too many mugs. mismatching cups. the dining room table is filled with mail and supplies from home depot for the fixing up he’s been doing throughout the home since he bought it. maybe he has a cat and her toys are thrown everywhere throughout the house, she has a designated spot on the couch with blanket and its covered in her fur. and the best part of it all is that buck loves it so much and he immediately feels comfortable the second he takes a step inside. he feels like he could also call it home.

[nelkcats]

The King's Favorite

The only possession that Catherine left Jason was an ice rose. She commented that it was some kind of family charm, that it had been with them for many generations and brought luck and that she knew the rose would save him one day. The last image Jason had of his mother was her smile as she handed him the rose.

Jason was always curious about the rose, it was cold and he swore it was made of solid ice but that should be impossible since it didn't melt. He was never brave enough to tell Bruce about it; maybe it was dumb, but he didn't want his paranoid father to take away the last memory of his mother.

The day Jason died he mocked the rose, neatly nestled in his bag a few meters away. Luck? Not at all. Saving? What a joke. While he closed his eyes he regretted everything he did wrong, everything he didn't get to live. As his tears fell to the warehouse floor, the rose slipped out of his bag, as if it went through it.

Unbeknownst to Jason, the ice rose ended up near his foot and began to fuse with his skin, leaving a small blue tattoo on his ankle, and for some reason, in his last few minutes, Jason felt warm.

A month after being buried, the tattoo began to glow blue. At midnight a voice was heard in the empty Gotham Cemetery.

"Wake up, my little Rose"

Jason's eyes snapped open in confusion as he woke up in his coffin. The Ghost King smirked as he looked at his chosen one while sitting on his throne of ice in the Infinite Realms, a new heir, huh?

[smokestarrules]

(their special interest is birds btw. if you even care)