#as someone who’s period is so fucking bad i’m forced to use diapers sometimes the last i wanna look at is

[benjinkies]

the gendering of adult diapers is so … like even in the face of incontinence women MUST be serving looks in their pink xl diapers

[edge-of-bizarre]

do you have any advice for periods or how the girls would handle periods for httyd

hell yeah. also you can prob ask @e--wills since she is the professional and i only know so much

I can only give advice for my situation, which is very close to the situation from hell but i was gifted with a very high pain tolerance, as in, i broke my hand and didn’t notice and 3 weeks later, i got it checked cause there was a bump, and the bump was the bone sticking out. yum

I have a very heavy period. VERY HEAVY. for 7 days. Those people out there “3 days at most”, how???? Well, luckily my pain tolerance is high otherwise it would probably be pretty debilitating

So! for this, i have a lot of problems when it comes to sleeping. No matter what size pad, there is always that dreaded splotch on the bed sheets meaning i have to do laundry. I prefer these memory foam kind of pads, but everyone has their own things, so i take the biggest ones they have, they’re like super overnight, and i got my granny panties, and i take 2 and put them end to end, waist band to waist band, and it goes from  belly button, down and around almost to lower back. I turn a lot, meaning i have to get everywhere, where as if you know you sleep on your back and you’re going to stay there, just put it in one location, same for the front.

Honestly, it’s just cause i live with my parents that i don’t bite the bullet and just buy diapers, i assume they do the same thing.... but i shall keep my dignity... for now

I take 3 advil before bed because pain and i’m 220 pounds. PLEASE WHEN YOU TAKE ADVIL TAKE THE CORRECT AMOUNT, there’s a warning sign for a reason. Make sure you have something to eat.

Tampons! Tampons can be very scary. I personally don’t love them, but i also swam for 12 years and you don’t take off swim practice for a period. Adapting to the sudden task came quickly. Tampons come in a variety of sizes and when you’re just starting it can be frustrating cause new territory. Try to map it out, use extra small ones, and then work up once you get the positioning right. just relax... remind yourself to relax and don’t force.

Also... Literally over the half the population has a period, people are so secretive and embarrassed. I was embarrassed! when i was younger it mortified me, but like... it’s not that big a deal? guys are big stupid animals who are afraid of what they don’t understand, so if they wanna be babies, just throw a tampon at them and they will scatter. I went from so embarrassed to not caring. You don’t give a shit when you’ve been at it for so long. I was waving a pad around in my hand on the way to the bathroom in the mall today because someone decided to come a little early. Also! if you are ever caught without a pad or tampon, definitely look for a women with a purse. 9/10 times they will have them, especially if it’s a mom. Mom’s don’t fuck around they are busy and they aren’t gonna be without. Ask them. Ask them very nicely, and whatever woman will immediately understand your pain and probably has been in your shoes.

If your period is very very bad, look into birth control if you can. Birth control can help regulate, or even diminish your period. Anything hormonal will do so, you just have to find the right thing.

I got a message asking what an IUD is the other day, it is an intrauterine device (iud), meaning it is a device that is inserted into your uterus. They can be pulled out when needed, easy peasy. There are two types, copper and hormonal. It’s a T shape wrapped in copper and can last for up to 12 YEAR! that’s bananas. It is not hormonal, meaning it won’t affect your hormones. Sperm don’t like copper, so the copper one makes it so the sperm can’t get to the egg. the drawback, is it can make your periods heavier. Everyone is different, so it could be easy for someone, or not great for another. The hormonal means they use hormones to prevent pregnancy, so it thickens the mucus that lives on the cervix, so sperm get blocked and trapped (i guess think of it as like... sticky paper for flies?) and sometimes it stops the eggs from leaving your ovaries, so there is nothing for the sperm to fertilizes. the hormonal ones range from 3-6 years i believe? so pop that bad boy out and put another in in 6 years, thats nice. or if you decide it isn’t your thing or if you want kids, you can get it removed earlier!

IUD’s are 99% effective, they can be costly but often they are covered by insurance so yay! you have to have a obgyn or doctor/nurse put it in and take it out, and of course, it’s birth control, so everyone has their thing that works! You just gotta figure it out

[rottenappleheart]

mm liveblog part 2

majora’s mask, unfiltered notes for the entire first 3-day cycle until you get the ocarina back and are no longer a slave to the passage of time

DAWN OF

THE FIRST DAY

72 HOURS REMAIN

tatl's thesis - that we should ask the great fairy for help, because the skull kid is no match for the great fairy - is deeply flawed. i have met great fairies. do you know what they don't do? help much.

that said i now like the idea of the skull kid being periodically taken to task by various great fairies

"sit down and tell me what you did this time"

"i made  you a sandwich"

"are you sorry"

i know it's meant to be irritating but i love that the guards will stop both deku link and normal link (until they see he's armed, and also looks like he hasn't slept in seven years) from exiting. becasue they are doing their job and keeping the population safe. and that means not letting children wander around alone.

I LOVE CLOCK TOWN OKAY

I TALK TO EVERYONE ABOUT THEIR LIVES AND I READ ALL THE POSTERS FOR THE LOCAL BANDS AND THE GUARD RECRUITMENTS AND I WATCH THAT ODD MASKED PERSON PICK UP THEIR MAIL AND I TRY TO BEFRIEND THE LOCAL STRAY DOGS AND IT IS JUST SO GOOD

the grown deku scrub who promised his wife a moon's tear, i just have to ask: is that a thing that normally happens? does the moon always just... cry onto the surface of the planet? what???

i love their banners and streamers and their happy music and their busy bustling lives and it's so good

what the fuck kind of ink does the banker use that remains indelible even as time itself unwinds

yikes i want to stop and just look at everything but the first sunset is already closing in and i haven't done anything

I FORGOT HOW NERVE-WRACKING THIS GAME IS BEFORE YOU CAN SLOW TIME DOWN

i... just found a lottery shop in clock town. i literally never knew this was here. how have i missed it all these years.

NIGHT OF

THE FIRST DAY

60 HOURS REMAIN

how is time passing so fast aaaaaaa

clocktown is such a nice place, they have a whole section of town set aside for a public park with a playground and gardens and everything ;___;

okay so the  great fairies though

remember what i was saying about how this game is actually very heavily voiced for being an ostensibly unvoiced game? everyone sighs, grunts, yells, hmms? and so on. and sometimes you'll catch almost a word.

except for the great fairy, it just sounds like she's squeaking "PLEASE ME" which is. an uncomfortable request. at the best of times.

but especially when i am in the form of a young potted plant.

idk what that was supposed to sound like but the midi-ified file is NOT GREAT, nintendo.

members-only late night milk bar... aw yeah please spike my milkshake, that is a great idea and i love it

(i'm not joking i love spiked milkshakes)

(also i love the milk bar and all the scenes that take place in there, especially on the last night, when you can just have very quiet calm conversations with people doing their best to be calm in the face of their unavoidable deaths)

DAWN OF

THE SECOND DAY

48 HOURS REMAIN

oh no oh no oh no WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BE DOING IN THE FIRST GO-ROUND

oh right i have literally two tasks

phew

i forgot to go into the stock pot inn on the first day, and i missed seeing kafei at the mailbox, so i am THIRSTY for EVERYONE'S FAVORITE CANONICAL FIANCEES

seriously, another weird but lovely choice on the part of the developers when they were ganking oot character models for this game. "who's a potential spooky villain? how about that one merchant guy? sure! and for an attractive bride-type character, what are our options? hmmm... how about the cuccoo lady with all the allergies? it's perfect"

i love not just anju and kafei but everything involved in their storyline - how kafei's friendship with the curiosity shop manager saved him, how anju's best friend is cremia on the ranch and they talk about their lives and how cremia will save her life (if she can), how you can spend actual in-game hours just sitting with anju's ancient senile grandmother hearing her stories as she thinks she is telling them to her long-dead son, how anju's mom will quietly not like kafei and kafei's mom will love and worry about him on a serious level very unlike her public persona... it's all so very real and human and i love it so

also heck the whole cast of characters staying in the inn

AH THERE SHE IS

THE BRIDE

anju i'm going to fix this ;___;

hello guardsmen if you are concerned about the state of today's youth maybe you should talk to THE BOMBER GANG i'm just saying

people who have played the more recent loz games, is the trend of "horrible underaged gangs of roving thugs" still a thing? or are mm and ww the only two games where they inflicted that on the player?

NIGHT OF

THE SECOND DAY

36 HOURS REMAIN

i'm sweating, i am just trying to find the bomber gang so i can get into the observatory so i can get the moon's tear so i can get the flower launch pad so i can get to the top of the clock tower and not die in a fiery inferno as gravitational forces rip the world apart

is that so much to ask

THERE'S THE LITTLE RUGRAT

COME HERE SO I CAN PUMMEL YOU

i refuse to feel bad about spin-kicking this child in the face because 1) i am technically also a child, in any body they put me in and 2) they are super racist if you talk to them while you are still a deku scrub! VERY RUDE

heck they let fergus over there man the door and he is still in diapers

gonna fill their hideout with encouraging tracts and stuff helping them grow into better people

so, fun fact

i remember many things about this game

but not that there is a skulltula in the waterway leading to the observatory

that was an unpleasant surprise

you probably could have heard me yell from three states away

(also, nothing has attacked you yet in the game (that actually does damage, and is not part of the story) so it's a little wake-up call: hey, don't forget to use Tatl to scout ahead, don't forget that you have a shield

also just

don't

be a moron

anyway

i was about to ask who the dickens put balloons with majora's mask on them all over the place - it's a weird choice, since no one... knows... what's going on? but technically, so far, all of the balloons are being interacted with by the bombers, or in places where the bombers go, and skull kid was, however briefly, a member of the bombers' secret society for justice (AND ALSO RACISM) so actually it makes more sense than i expected

when you first walk into the basement of the observatory and... the music changes... and there's a chicken??? it is what i assume being high is like.

DAWN OF

THE FINAL DAY

24 HOURS REMAIN

plays just as i lunge for the moon's tear

okay i've got this, i can stop fretting, the while last day can just be me looking around at stuff and being sad because i can't help anybody

yet

DON'T WORRY PEOPLE I WILL SAVE YOU

EVENTUALLY

IN A DIFFERENT LIFE

YOU'RE DEFINITELY BONED IN THIS ONE

SORRY ABOUT THAT

BUT I'M A STUMP THAT CHEWS BUBBLE GUM RIGHT NOW AND I DON'T THINK YOU CAN ASK VERY MUCH OF ME

I CAN'T EVEN REACH THE DOORKNOBS OF THIS TOWN SO TBH I WASN'T GOING TO BE MUCH GOOD AGAINST AN INTERSTELLAR BODY CRASHING INTO THE PLANET

a more srs thought: it was an interesting choice of curse skull kid lays on link at the start, making him into a deku scrub, and i think we can unpack some stuff there: he's drawing on his woodland roots (which link shares), he's making link into something small and largely helpless (like skull kid is, without the mask), he's... actually giving link a very similar kind of body to  his own?

i don't know what  the exact taxonomical differentiation is between deku scrubs and skull kids, but they are both wooden-bodied, whether grown or carved, they both have radiantly glowing eyes unlike most other things in the world, they both clothe themselves in bright layers of leaves... i imagine that if you sandblasted all the drama off a skull kid, you'd find something pretty similar to the lankier deku scrubs.

in that case, what he did is... he really kinda turned link into himself. but his helpless, powerless, abandoned, friendless, pre-mask self. to taunt him with all those awful feelings that skull kid himself experienced.

(mythological distinction for skull kids: they are people who got lost in the woods, and became cursed. if i'm not mistaken.)

(link is literally becoming a skull kid.)

(good times y'all!)

oh gosh the music is so frantic on the third day, and it's such a good bit of development on the design team's side: every day, clock town's music gets a little faster, a little shriller, as their time runs out

if you talk to the guards who block you in on the third day, instead of their usual "hey kiddo it's dangerous outside" they'll start saying "hey, are you alone, where is your family, are you okay, someone is probably worrying about you, please find them and get out of town as soon as you can"

fun fact: one of the things that consistently Wrecks me about this game is how the guards stand at their posts, jaws clenched, holding their fists to their hearts, as they watch their world be destroyed... because they will not abandon their duty.

seriously, every time i die.

and the cow figurines all over town that, if you hadn't noticed before, have bobbleheads, because as the earth starts shaking they do too, and it's another tiny detail that makes it all The Worst.

awkward council meeting eavesdropped on

("nothing is wrong!" is a lot less believable when the ground is literally shaking from the gravitational stresses being exerted by the falling moon, but hey, 2018)

the carpenters shouting back and forth "hey dudes i'm sorry but i'm gonna jet" "are you kidding if i stay i get a promotion"

;_______;

SO MANY RACISTS IN CLOCK TOWN, the merchant's hipster assistant will literally refuse to talk to you if you're "just" a deku scrub

meanwhile the bomb shop guy's grandmother (the one who gets robbed, if you're not paying attention, like i wasn't) is just "oh goodness you are a very small customer, please be careful in our shop of very dangerous things"

NIGHT OF

THE FINAL DAY

12 HOURS REMAIN

eeeeeeeeeeep

finally got into the milk bar (everyone's a member when the world is ending!) and madame aroma, the scary and powerful socialite, starts with a very gentle "are you okay with not fleeing? it looks like we are all going to die here in town. is anyone looking for you?"

if i had all my masks and instruments i would love to invoke that scene right now and be the band on the titanic and give her and the other customers a few minutes of... life, if not joy, and beauty, if not quite comfort.

snuck into the now-abandoned stock pot inn, as well, and... okay, i'm going to say it, i don't know wtf is going on with anju's wedding dress. is her midriff made out of ivy? why is her romantic wedding-day mask (which is a neat concept btw!) a grinning rictus? what are we saying about love in this moment???)

(also, if you have ever made the mistake of helping kafei but forgetting to tell anju to wait for him, or telling anju to wait and then not helping kafei deal with sakon... it's a shitshow, it's bad for you, it darkens your heart forever)

during the last 12 hours the guards will say "i want to help you get out of her asap, run find your folks and i will let you out, please hurry"

nooooooo ;_______;

the postman sobbing because "flee for your life" is not written on the schedule

he wrote himself a letter saying that he is doing a good job and he requests that he himself flee ;__________________; but he can't do it ;__________________________;

oh no here we go

here it comes

the clocktower

the fireworks

the moon

the six hours remaining music

HEART CLUTCH

soft wailing

ngl that sad and weary music is the best part of the entire narrative experience to me

and then skull kid's impotent fury against all that immense power

tatl to skull kid: "what if we... didn't???"

also a good and valid point: friends don't hit friends

JUST LOOK ABOVE YOU

IF IT'S SOMETHING THAT CAN BE STOPPED

JUST TRY AND STOP IT

(his voice is still so horribly thin and shrill, like a child)

but one well-placed gum bubble to the face and we are BACK IN BUSINESS

the BUSINESS

of RUNNING FOR OUR LIVES

from THINGS WE CANNOT FIGHT

i like that the one time zelda appears in the game, it is such a gentle and tender scene, reminding you of the bond she MUST have had with Link, for him to have done so much, and how much trust he puts in her

(... ask me again about the Song of Endings)

("even though it was only a short time, i feel like i've known you forever")

("i believe in my heart that a day will come when i shall meet you again")

(--> all my worst most wretched tp emotions about the wolf and the shrouded lady in the tower)

the song that reminds her of herself and link is the song of time, not anything else... the song about cycles and memory and history and second chances and legends

;_________________;

WELL FUCK I GUESS I'M HAVING PRINCESS ZELDA FEELS IN THE MIDDLE OF  THE GAME IN WHICH SHE DOES NOT PLAY A ROLE

i have to play the songs in the right time, i can't just half-ass it by speeding through the buttons, idk why

("the goddess of time is watching over you" --> old old questions about who the goddess of time is, and which sage zelda was, etc)

the PLOT TWIST when you equip the ocarina and it turns into A GOSHDARN BRASS QUINTET STRAPPED TO YOUR BACK i love it

(each little snail yeah knows how to wail yeah)

tatl saying [as midna will, centuries later]: um dude i mean sir WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU, HAVE I MISJUDGED, SUDDENLY I AM WORRIED ABOUT MY MANNERS

and we are... not victorious, but reprieved!!!

i'll do better this time everyone i promise

DAWN OF

THE FIRST DAY

AGAIN...!!!

[positivelystruggling-blog]

So, I told him... Here's my story before that though.

I tested positive for Genital HSV on November 21, 2019. I am fairly certain that I know who I contracted it from, but as I continue to learn about this virus, I realize that I'll never truly know. Anyway, this first outbreak could not have come at a more inopportune time. I literally just lost my health insurance, because I also started a brand new job. AND my daughter was simultaneously starting at a new daycare. This was also my first week on keto. Plenty of change happening here.

The discomfort started immediately after we had sex. He wasn't the most receptive individual when I asked him to stop and I found myself trying to remove his hands, or push his face away too frequently. But I stayed, so there's only so much blame to place. After it was over, my clitoris was extremely sensitive to the point where everything, even wiping, was painful. I chalked this up to how aggressive things had been and decided to just monitor and soak to heal. It got worse from there. My period started shortly after, and I found that wearing a maxi pad was awful. Tampons, however were fine. Growing confused and concerned, I asked one of my best friends if this had ever happened to her. She said that sometimes it took a while for the enlargement of the clitoris to go down and that I should wear form fitting clothes so nothing had the chance to rub and take baths. Briefly, I was calm again.

Then my period went away. It started to hurt to walk. Painful to urinate. I took pictures and saw these little cuts everywhere. Something was not right. I thought maybe I had the adult equivalent of a diaper rash. So I used some healing ointments, vaseline, and wipes clean after every bathroom break. But that hurt. And it got worse. I shook, I cried. I walked so slow. I started to Google... I didn't like it. The Sunday before I went to the doctor's was the most painful. I laid with a heating pad on my vulva for majority of the day. I cried everytime I went to the bathroom. I cried in the shower. 'Why won't this stop hurting?!' Something is not right. At this point, I knew it was an STI. I just hoped to the high heavens that it was something curable.

I went Monday. After going to work all day, spending at least two of those work hours in the bathroom (cumulatively). Then taking my daughter home from daycare, and being forced to cancel my evening class. My doctor's visit was humiliating. I cried the entire time. As I waited for the doctor to come in, I knew I had herpes. Sometimes you just feel it. The doctor himself was gentle and kind. He did not make any assumptions that I had an STI. In fact that was one of the last questions he asked. He swabbed me during the exam, and tried to assure me that he didn't think bump was a herpes bump - it looked more like an ingrown hair. But was swabbed nevertheless! He treated me for all of the curable ones while I was there. To get rid of them right away, if I had them. And between that and the cocktail of meds I was given to cure my sexual hangover, all I had left to do was wait.

I started to become less fearful of the possibility of having something incurable. He thought it looked like an ingrown hair. Let's see how these meds work. The next two days were even worse than the last few. Something was very wrong. They called to tell me that the results for the curable infections were negative. "Okay..." I said. "What about herpes?" "...That one is still pending."

So I went home, and cried. I stayed up, googled, and cried. I drove to daycare and cried. I took my lunch break and cried. And it was when I left work and cried that I decided to call them and ask.

It was like in the movies, where someone gets bad news and everything slows down and it kinda feels like everything is underwater. I wanted it to be wrong. A lie. False positive. Untrue. I begged her to tell me something different. Maybe they switched my test with someone else. Fuck. This is real. I cursed more than I formulated sentences and sobbed in between. I had to go get my daughter. I panicked thinking - what if she could get this from me?! "Only direct contact with the lesions and/or careless restroom hygiene". I had to go. I had to get my daughter. "Make an appointment with your doctor " I don't have insurance. What am I going to do. "Try your doctor and if they don't help you- we will "

I cried for hours. I called my best friend - cried some more. Then, I had to call him. He told me he was "clean". I just reiterated that I was positive and was letting him know. When I told my mother, I threw up. The fear of seeing her disappointed in me (something I've always struggled with) was worse than the result itself. But I couldn't manage being a single working mother in this house with 5 adults sharing one bathroom and managing my mental health alone. I have never felt closer to my mom after that.

The next day was draining. I traveled a half hour away before work in the morning. (Where I had to inform my brand new boss that I had a medical emergency to attend to. 🤦🏾‍♀️ I went to Planned Parenthood, who once again provided the safe space I needed and answered all the questions I had that morning. I did not even know that you could get HSV1 Genitally and vice versa. It was my nurse who encouraged me to reach out for the typing.

To be honest, I didn't really know shit about this virus at all. And I'm definitely still learning.

This blog is to help me process through the truth of my experience being positive. I may say dumb things sometimes or be "melodramatic. But this is a significant change that has occurred for me. I need to work through that. My hope, is that this becames easier, sooner rather than later. But if you're struggling too, and you need someone in the thick of it. This may be the blog for you.

💙

[ellanainthetardis]

Is it that easy to take care of a baby... A discovery ;)

[FF] or [AO3]

29. Thirty-Five Weeks

Doing groceries had never been Haymitch’s favorite hobby. Doing groceries while following to the letter a list Effie had written was, maybe, even worse.

She was very irritable lately. The mood swings were back full force, she alternated between periods of complete impatience at the baby’s arrival and periods of utter dread. She refused to talk about it with him but he knew she was having doubts about being able to pull it off again. She was having nightmares, he was certain she would have stayed in bed if she had been able to find a comfortable position, and, more than once, he had found her leaning against the nursery’s doorframe, staring at the crib, hugging herself. Other times, she just whirled around the house, fixing stuff that wasn’t ready yet for the shrimp.

One month to go.

Haymitch clung to that idea with every fiber of his being. He was counting down the days, mainly because Effie wasn’t at her best and he hated seeing her like that. He understood most of her anxiety came from the fact she was mostly trapped in the house, unable to settle because her stomach was in the way or the baby was kicking or she wasn’t feeling well… It wasn’t conductive to relaxing and she couldn’t really take her mind off it.

And she seemed intent on making him pay for it.

To be fair, he did have a hand in getting her knocked up so…

He wasn’t going to infuriate her further by picking up the wrong brand, which was why he had been staring at toothpastes for more than five minutes, trying to recall which one she usually bought. And his memory was blank. He settled for strawberry flavored in the end, figuring that, with Effie, you couldn’t go wrong with strawberry.

He exited the shop with relief because the next part would be much easier. Snowball jumped up from where he had been lurking next to the door and stuck close to his leg not to get lost. Market day was always busy and he didn’t like crowds but the faces were more or less all familiar and it helped a little. He picked up fresh vegetables, fruits and everything else they needed in a hurry. He didn’t like leaving her for long period of time, all the more so when the puppy – who really wasn’t a puppy anymore – was with him.

Not that he was expecting another Clay any time soon. While what happened that night wasn’t public knowledge, rumors were flying left and right. His death was the only straight fact they had, the rest was all conjectures but… The man was dead. It didn’t matter what had happened, the uncertainty only reinforced the idea that attacking them wouldn’t end well for the attacker. Either Haymitch had killed Clay – which was the most popular theory – or a pregnant Effie Trinket had – and they had all been underestimating the escort. In any case… A message had been sent.

He just wished the blood had been on his hands instead of Effie’s.

He wasn’t wary about a possible attack as he strode through town in the direction of the Village, Snowball dashing a few feet away of him. He was wary of anything happening while he wasn’t there to check on her. The closer they got to the end, the harder it became to quench his protective instincts.

He knew he was smothering her sometimes but he couldn’t help it. He needed to make sure she was alright.  

He struggled with the door, his arms full of grocery bags, not helped by the way Snowball clawed at the wood to be let in faster. Samoyeds were supposed to enjoy being outside but Effie had pampered him so much that, while he enjoyed going out and playing in the backyard, Snowball was happiest when he was curled up somewhere next to one of them – preferably on the bed or the couch. Lately, he had taken to use cuddle time to curiously sniff her stomach. It was as if he knew there was someone else in there. Effie thought it was the cutest thing. Haymitch refused to admit it was pretty cute.

The noise assaulted him as soon as he managed to push the door open. When he had left, she had been furiously knitting on the couch, sulking about something or other… And now there was a baby wailing inside the house.

His heart stopped beating in his chest.

Literally.

And then, as if to compensate this small mishap, it started racing to the point Haymitch felt dizzy. He dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen table, running after Snowball who, as usual, was rushing straight to wherever Effie was.

His only thought was that labor had somehow started while he was gone and that she had been forced to deliver alone.

He was fully expecting blood and gore in their brand new living-room.

Finding her pacing, tears silently running down her cheeks, with a baby in a pink dress struggling in her arms was almost anticlimactic. And, still, his eyes roamed around looking for blood or clues about a possible emergency birth despite the fact that Effie was still clothed and standing, still heavily pregnant, and that the baby was clearly a couple of months old.

A baby he also knew to be Fanny for having seen her often enough in the Clarke’s arms.

“The fuck?” he breathed out anyway.

“Oh, Haymitch!” she exclaimed with utter relief – and since she didn’t call him out on his language in the presence of a baby, he figured it must be bad. “Please, help me…”

He blinked once, twice, and then crept closer to her. She stopped pacing and tried to rock the child but she wouldn’t stop wailing at the top of her lungs. She was screaming so hard her face was all red and Haymitch was scared she would suffocate.

“Where’s Eileen?” he frowned.

“I told her I would babysit so she could have some time with Livy…” Effie explained, biting down on her bottom lip. “Liam is at the coffee shop and between work and the baby… I knew she wanted some time with her oldest daughter and I thought it would be good practice so I offered but…” Effie’s face crumpled and, before he understood what was happening, he had two wailing girls on his hands. “She won’t stop crying! She hates me! I cannot do this, Haymitch, I cannot!”

“Okay, okay…” he pacified, automatically reaching out for the baby because Effie didn’t seem too steady on her legs. He froze before he could take her though. He had no idea how to carry an infant and his hands were shaking anyway. He switched tracks fast, grabbing Effie’s shoulders instead and nudging her toward the couch. “Sit down, sweetheart. We’ll figure it out.”

“What is there to figure out?” she sobbed. “Babies hate me. What were we thinking? We can’t have a baby! We know nothing about babies!”

“We read enough…” he grumbled, looking around for an idea… His eyes fell on Snowball who was sitting in a corner, strangely quiet. The puppy looked at him, bolted for his bed, snatched the purple monkey and ran out of the room. “Traitor.” Haymitch muttered under his breath.

“I did everything I was supposed to.” Effie countered, still crying. She never used to cry before this pregnancy and now… He figured it must have been hormones or exhaustion. Fat tears were rolling down her cheeks and her nose… “I changed her, I fed her… I rocked her… I even tried singing but… Nothing is working!”

He spotted the diaper bag open on an armchair and snatched the first thing that looked like a toy. It was round and it made noises, that was enough for him. He waved it above Fanny’s head, hoping it would help… Effie held her breath, trying to collect herself…

For a glorious second, there was silence. Fanny let out a strangled chirp and waved her tiny chubby hand as if to catch the toy… The next moment, she was crying again.

“No, no, no…” Haymitch panicked. “Here, take it…” He placed the toy closer to her fingers, he waved it, made it jingle to catch her attention… To no avail… “You’re sure she’s not hungry?”

Effie shook her head, her lips wobbling. “She never cries with Eileen. She hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. He poked at the baby’s tummy. “Maybe she’s broken…”

“Babies don’t get broken.” she snapped and then hesitated. “Did I break the baby?”

“Of course you didn’t break the baby.” he immediately denied, sensing venturing on that ground wouldn’t end well.

“Take her, please…” she requested, leaning a bit closer so he could relieve her of the girl. He immediately shook his head, taking a – admittedly peeved – step back. She pursed her lips. “Haymitch, I need you to take her. Aidan is pressing on my bladder and I badly need to…”

“Tell the shrimp to stop.” he cut her off. “’Cause there’s no way I’m picking up that kid.”

“She won’t bite.” she taunted. “She doesn’t have teeth.”

But, boy, did she have lungs…

He was tempted to go back to town to buy earplugs.

“What did you go and offer to babysit for?!” he accused, raising his voice to be heard over the wailing.

“Because I thought it would be nice!” she retorted on the same tone. “Now, stop being an idiot and take this baby off my hands.”

“What are you? Nuts? I can’t carry a baby.” he sputtered, raising his hands defensively.

The tremor wasn’t that bad now that he had recovered from the panic of thinking she had given birth by herself – and wouldn’t that have been a nice story to tell their son later on: Hey, shrimp, guess what, Papa missed your birth ‘cause he was wondering if Mama would kill him over strawberry toothpaste…

“And what do you plan to do with ours?” she hissed.

“Hand you stuff while you carry him?” he replied, only now realizing that plan was stupid. Plus, he wanted to hold their baby but maybe… Maybe while he was sitting or when he was sure he couldn’t let him fall…

“Haymitch.” she growled – and he knew that growl, that growl meant trouble.

“I don’t want to break her!” he protested.

“No chance of that, it seems I already did.” she deadpanned. “Help me now or I swear…”

She left the threat to hang in the air. He almost told her to go fuck herself. That was what he would have done months earlier but it was different now. And it would remain different as long as she was pregnant with their child. It wasn’t just about him not liking to be bossed around, it was also about her well-being – because she wasn’t supposed to be stressed dammit.

“For the record, sweetheart, you’re being bitchy again.” he mumbled.

However, he did come closer, sitting down next to her before he could change his mind. She tried to hand Fanny to him but he had no clue how to even start holding her. Effie seemed to realize what the problem was and placed his arms the right way. Before long, he had a screaming wriggling baby locked in his arms.

It was way heavier than he had thought it would be.

“At last.” Effie sighed in relief, hauling herself up and waddling out of the room.

“Don’t be long.” he shouted after her, not even ashamed of how terrified he sounded.

It was all well and good to get used to a pregnancy or to the idea of a kid, it was completely something else to find themselves face to face with the reality of what having a baby would be.

Once he was sure his muscles wouldn’t suddenly give in to spasms just to make his day worse, he mustered enough confidence to try rocking the little girl. He awkwardly hummed the only lullaby he knew, the one that always calmed the shrimp when he was acting up in Effie’s stomach… No luck.

Effie was taking her sweet time coming back and Fanny was heavy. He experimentally shifted her weight to his left arm, propping her on his lap so his right hand was free. He didn’t know why he started rubbing her tummy, it was a bit instinctive.

She stopped crying.

“Look at that…” he smiled, his shoulders slouching in relief. “You’ve just got a stomach ache, yeah?”

“Did you kill…” Effie’s question died on her lips when she caught sight of them. She planted her hands on her hips and watched, not quite as pleased as he thought she should have been – he had found a way to stop the infernal wailing after all. “It figures she would like you best. Well, this settles that. Babies hate me.”

“Babies don’t hate you. Girls just like me better.” he smirked. “Can’t help it, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes. “Nobody likes a bragger.”

“You did.” he taunted, the familiar banter finishing to put him at ease.

At least, until the baby started wailing again.

“What did you do?” Effie exclaimed in dismay.

“Nothing!” he swore, rubbing Fanny’s stomach again.

Nothing worked.

They shared a look of horror.

They tried rocking her, they tried walking, they tried feeding her and changing her, they tried playing with her, they tried lullabies and more up-beat songs…

Fanny cried until Effie had trouble not crying herself again and until Haymitch developed a headache the size of District Seven.

He had never been as relieved as when Eileen invaded their house without knocking, probably having heard the baby from the Village’s gates – or she did knock and they didn’t notice over the wailing.

It was like magic.

The moment Fanny was in her mother’s arms, she went quiet.

Haymitch might have been a bit rude with how fast he walked the woman back to the door but Effie was so exhausted, she didn’t even lecture him about it.    

He dropped down on the couch next to her and let his head fall on the back of the seat, staring at the ceiling. Effie was very quiet.

“It won’t be the same, sweetheart.” he promised.

He wasn’t quite convinced though and she must have picked up on it because she swallowed hard, rubbing the baby bump in that nervous habit she had developed those past few months.

“What if it is?” she whispered. “What if we cannot do it?”

“Effie…” he sighed.

“No.” she cut him off firmly. “You said we could do it and I wanted to believe you but what if we can’t? What if…”

“One day at a time.” he reminded her. “We take it one day at a time.”

“We cannot take it one day at a time when a child is involved.” she hissed, hauling herself off the couch. She was growing frantic, retracing the length from the fireplace to the bookshelves again and again. “What were we thinking? We were selfish. So selfish. We aren’t equipped to deal with a baby. We…”

“Effie.” he insisted, propping his elbows on his thighs. He wanted her to calm down before she worked herself up in a panic attack but he knew that if he tried to force her to sit down right now it would be worse. He tracked her every move with his eyes, ready to bolt and catch her at the slightest hint of fainting.

“Tell me he wouldn’t be better with a mother who knows what she is doing.” she accused. “Tell me there aren’t better people out there who could raise him so much better than…”

“You want to give him up?” he sneered, more mocking than concerned. She had spent three hours embroidering Aidan’s name on a baby blanket she had knitted herself the previous day – for the birth, she had said. No one would spend that much time on such a project only to abandon the child.

“Of course not!” she snarled, wrapping her arms around her stomach in a protective stance, shooting him such a glare… He didn’t even bother pointing out how little sense she was making, he simply lifted a hand to silently illustrate his point. Her face softened a little but she didn’t stop pacing. “I am scared.”

The admission was quiet, almost too low for him to hear.

“Look…” he offered, reaching out to grab her wrist the next time she walked past him. She stopped moving but she wasn’t meeting his eyes and she still had her other arm wrapped around her stomach. “We’re gonna fuck up. Everyone does, yeah? It’s normal…”

“Language.” she chided faintly.

“That kid, it’s not ours.” he insisted, nodding at the living-room door where Fanny had disappeared in her mother’s arms a few minutes earlier. “We’re supposed to get some kind of instinct along with the baby, yeah? We don’t have the baby yet so…”

“No superpower will magically appear, Haymitch.” she scowled.

“Sure it will.” he shrugged. “Parental instinct or something.” She scoffed dismissively and he squeezed her wrist. “That tingling feeling you get every time Katniss is about to do something crazy and dangerous?”

“When isn’t she?” she challenged. “It is hardly any proof that…”

“How do you always know when the boy isn’t doing well, then?” he insisted. “How do you always know he needs to talk or whatever?”

“Because I know him.” she dismissed.

“And you’ll know the shrimp.” he argued.

“It is not the same thing at all.” she countered, turning to face him, forcing him to look up. He tugged her closer, propping his chin on her stomach. Her lips twitched and she ran her hand in his hair, brushing it back. “Do not look so cute, this is cheating.” He only smirked in answer, pressing a quick kiss to her stomach. She sighed but relented. “Katniss and Peeta have never been dependent on us like Aidan will be. We will be his everything. What if we fail?”

“We’ll try not to fail where it matters.” he promised.

“That’s not enough.” she breathed out, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“It’s gonna have to be.” he answered. “’Cause that’s all anyone can do, sweetheart.”

She swallowed hard but made an obvious effort to collect herself. “We will love him.”

“Yeah.” he smiled, covering the hand on his shoulder with his.

“More than anything.” she insisted.

“More than anything.” he nodded. “And we’ll keep him safe.”

“Yes.” she approved. “We will keep him safe.”

They remained like that for a little while, not quite embracing but close to each other anyway.

“You feel better?” he asked eventually. He wanted her to sit down, she had been on her feet for too long, but he didn’t want to upset her further either.

“Not really.” she confessed. “But we will be fine. We always are.”

He wasn’t sure if it was a lie meant to comfort herself or an actual belief of hers.

He wasn’t sure they were always fine.

They survived, rather.

That was who they were.

[peevishmandible]

My husband has been working nights from his home office for about 6 months, and will continue until September when his boss gets back from overseas and will no longer need him to work so closely with the international team that my husband manages. It’s been weird. I mean, there’s stuff that isn’t great but there is lots that is, so it’s ok. You know, trade offs. We’re not upset and it isn’t hurting any one, it messed w our family dynamic at first but we found equilibrium. It’s at the very least a lot more consistent and healthier a schedule than when he would be out to commute to the city at 6am, get home at 5:30 and then maybe work from 9 to midnight so he was able to manage the people across the globe, you know?  So anyways. Here’s the thing. When I had my babies, lord I was what you’d call an attachment parent. I mean, it wasn’t a term I even knew, it wasn’t something I did deliberately... it was just what I DID. We knew I was going to be a stay at home parent and keep my kids close, and I did babywearing from day one, right up until the kids outgrew the 35lb limit in the hiking back pack that was a part of me for like 4 years. I breastfed - and I’m SO grateful I was able to do that, I do not say this as a status signal or virtue, trust me. It’s a combination of damn I was lucky I was able to and damn my kids NEVER TOOK BOTTLES. EVER. EVER. NOT ONCE. BELIEVE ME I TRIED. Anyawys I breastfed my daughter until she was three, and 7 months of that time was while I was pregnant with my son. I had to stop because my lap was disappearing and my son would kick her so hard it hurt me when he felt her. I breast fed my son until he was 2, when I got a bad ear infection and the antibiotics in my milk made him sick. So five years of my life, 5 consecutive years, nursing children.  UH, WE”RE CLOSE.  Lord, but I did NOT enjoy sleeping with them. My daughter never liked it, always did better in her own room, from 4 months on (we had both our babies in bassinettes by my bed at first. I had naps with her in bed beside me sometimes but that’s it. When my husband had to leave us for 5 months when I was newly pregnant she had adjustment problems and I was so exhausted that I brought her into my bed at night but she was THE WORST, I’m so sorry to say. She was sweet and beautiful but god, she would kick me, flip upside down in bed, play until late into the night, fuss around, wake me up by yelling in my face or forcing my eyes open... And she was like, 2.5. Listen sleeping next to a 2.5 year old who still pees in diapers while asleep is gross, ok. I haaaaaated it.  When my son was born, lord. He wouldn’t sleep unless I was holding him. I slept with him in my arms in bed for 3 weeks. Not safe! I didn’t feel great about it! My husband didn’t have enough room in our bed and had to sleep on the couch and we both hated THAT because WE are close and need each other to sleep well. I was sore and unhappy about it and so grateful when he finally slept in his bassinette. Because of our living situation we built his crib and had THAT at the bottom of our bed for about 8 months. That was fine - I didn’t mind having them IN the room, I just didn’t want them in my bed.  Like, I spent EVERY SINGLE WAKING - and sleeping, if we’re being totally honest - minute with my children. I didn’t resent that, but GOD DAMNIT, I am an introvert at heart, I really am, and I NEED SPACE. My bed was MY BED. Well, and my husband’s of course. And of COURSE we goddamn got interrupted tons when we fucked but at least we had the opportunity to DO so without kids in our bed. It was just, you know. A boundary. Like, the one boundary for me, being pregnant, nursing, and parenting small babies and children constantly for like 5 years.  I’m going somewhere with all this.   K, so, my husband had to go work away from us for another 6 months a few years later. It was my fault that we were separated and I am very deeply guilty about that but we won’t go into that in this post. The point is, the kids and I were in a single room at night, with my big queen mattress, a twin bed for my girl, and a toddler bed for my boy.  THEY DIDN”T USE THEIR BEDS.  Now, I got it. You know? Like, Daddy was gone, my daughter was newly in kindergarten, we’d moved to a new place abruptly, and Mama was in the room with them for the first time. They both piled into my bed with me - my 5 year old and my 2 year old (who yep, was still in diapers, believe me I smelled like toddler pee and baby sweat far more than I want to remember...) and once again I was sometimes a little resentful (I would try to escape to the twin bed after they fell asleep sometimes) but I was both so exhausted, so anxious about the shitty situation that I let it slide and even actually enjoyed it. I finally did find joy in sleeping through the night with them, it was comforting without my husband there, absolutely.  When we all reunited we went years without sleeping that way again, which was fine. Once in a while I’d grab a nap with one or the other in my bed or theirs. Sometimes THEY would have sleep overs and share a bed or room but mostly they enjoy having their own space - my daughter especially.  But now, here we are again. Daddy isn’t in my bed. So the kids are. They take turns. It’s fine. I can sleep alone but I prefer not to, now. It’s very lonely without my husband there, ever. I was actually pretty fucking sad about it. And, you know. The anxiety nights and nightmares can be better if I can look over and see someone I love safe and real. The kids won’t be small enough to do this much longer and if they’re happy and I’m happy, then we best do it while we can. My husband has been waking us up when he comes to bed at 6 or 7 - he brings the dogs now and we all have a big cuddle and play session before I get the kids up for school. It’s nice.  Last night I had both kids in with me. We’ve not done that for many years because they’re too big and they fight and someone inevitably gets too hot/has no blankets/kicks someone/wants to be next to mum/farts and pisses someone off/etc ad fucking nauseum. But last night I let my daughter in after a week and a half of banning her from sleeping with me - she was acting out and I finally had to tell her to fuck off because dude I already deal with some pretty gnarly insomnia, you canNOT fuck with what sleep I get - but her brother got in some trouble for something and was sad. So. I put her beside me, and him at the foot of the bed. I actually woke up during the night and was petting him with my foot because I thought he was my big dog - until he started farting and I was like... that doesn’t sound like Dana farts....ha. Anyways wow I had a flash to a memory I hadn’t thought of it a very long time.  I used to sleep at the foot of my mum’s bed. (we did a lot of co sleeping in my family, but again - it’s for another post to examine. It wasn’t a healthy situation I don’t think.) I have a distinct memory from... gosh I was young. It was before we left Cassiar mining town so I was 5 or under. I was dreaming about peeing into one of her little painted ornamental boxes that she had, and of course I peed the bed. Wasn’t something I did more than any other kid I don’t think (although I did sleep walk and pee in people’s shoes which... yeah again, another post) and I didn’t get in trouble for it that time, it’s not a traumatic memory.  It was just funny. To remember that when I woke up and saw my son at the foot of my bed. And I’ve been thinking about co sleeping. So. That’s why I wrote all this. I don’t really know where I’m going with all of this but I think there is something for me to unpack. My sleeping problems have been exacerbated the last few years, but the nightmares, night terrors, paralysis, and sleep walking and sleep talking have been constant since I was... well. A new born. I never slept. It fucking killed my mother it was very very hard on her. I know that, so I know it must have been bad. I don’t sleep walk anymore, thankfully, but I do sleep TALK and I’ve lashed out physically against my husband many times (Never against my kids. Ever, just to be clear. And when I was going through a period of hitting him at night we completely stopped allowing the children into bed with me until I stopped. I haven’t had any incidents like that since.) So I think I need to go comb through and examine some more trash.  I think I need to find a better name for it though. Some of it is trash sorting but... you know. That negative word doesn’t always feel right. I’ll work on it.  The end. 

[laseroy89]

I Hate My Smelly Neighbour

It’s starting again.

I squeezed my headphones onto my ears, trying to drown out the commotion. But no matter what I did, the noises pierced through, as clear as day.

This happened every night. Always started around 8pm, according to my roommates. Of course, I’ve changed my schedule to avoid being home around this time, but the library closed early today, so here I am.

Despite living here here for four fucking months, I couldn’t figure out how the hell my neighbour was making these sounds.

It sounded like….gargling. Like someone filled his mouth with water and swished it around a million times. Then, he faced up and exhaled slowly through the water, taking care not to spill any water and to make as much noise as possible. Of course, that’s not possible - for gargling to be this loud, the person would have to be some dinosaur-sized giant.

And I’m sure it wasn’t just water through the pipes either. That would just be a constant rattling noise that faded into silence after at most five minutes. These noises were unpredictable, varying in volume and intensity - they sounded alive.

It was stopping…..no, it wasn’t, it got louder - my table was vibrating from the damn cacophony of gurgles and squelches. I turned to the wall behind me, which separated my room from my neighbour, and raised my middle finger. Fuck you, Rancid Reaper. Fuck you and your stupid, irritating, disgusting sounds. You annoy the fuck out of me, you miserable, imbecile piece of shit.

As you can see, I hate my neighbour a lot. Let me explain why I’m so furious at him.

Five months ago, I chanced upon this place that’s really close to school, and is really, really cheap. Doesn't matter that the place looked really crappy - the corridors were filthy with a musty smell, the walls were pretty thin and the doors couldn’t close properly. It was dirt cheap because the current tenants were desperate for a new flatmate to share the cost, so they lowered my share a little. The proximity to school meant that I could save time, and spend less on transport. At that time, that was what mattered to my naive mind.

After finalising everything and moving in one month later, I found out why the previous occupant of my room left the place in a hurry.

First reason is the lifts. There are only two elevators serving fifteen storeys, and each storey has ten units - this is just plain insufficient. The wait can take up to twenty minutes in the morning, when most people are heading to either work or school, and in the evening, when everyone is heading back home. My predecessor must have been caught in one too many jams.

Second reason is my roommates, and some of my neighbours. Jake leaves a mess everywhere he goes - unwashed dishes in the sink, stains on the coffee table, weights all over the living room floor - worse than a cat, really. Han stays in his closed room 99% of the time he’s home, studying and doing who knows what else - he’s quite distant as a result. The people upstairs break out some tapdance-like routine at random intervals in the night. And the neighbours to the right fuck like rabbits, and scream really loud when they do it.

But….it’s cool, I can cope with all these. I can force myself to wake up earlier to avoid the morning peak hour, and I’ll just return home in the late afternoon or much later at night. As for the people aspect, Jake eventually cleans up after himself, even though it’s more out of necessity (so that he can move around the apartment), and it’d be probably around four hours after the initial mess appeared. Han does acknowledge me with a smile….from time to time. The Riverdancers upstairs don’t thump the floor every single day, and the Rabbits’ cries of joy normally don’t last more than five minutes.

The only thing I can’t stand, is the Rancid Reaper to our left.

Most of his habits - hell, just the sight of him never fails to rile me up. One of them is the constant disgusting gargling noises emitted from his house periodically - my table is currently shaking from the sounds as I type this, and it’s already the third time tonight. But I’ll come to that later; I’m gonna start with his nickname.

Remember what I said earlier about forcing myself to wake up earlier? It just so happens that Reaper’s routine coincides with mine - he’ll emerge from his house at the same time. Sometimes a little later, when I’m already in the lift lobby. He’ll walk to the landing, and stand a few metres to my right.

That’s when the smell will hit me.

It’s hard to describe the overpowering odour -  it’s like someone put wet dog fur, rotten eggs and two-week-old vomit into the blender, drench some stale dirty laundry with the mixture, then wrap the revolting piece of cloth around your nose. Maybe….maybe it's the stained wifebeater and crumpled black shorts he’s always clad in - does he ever wash them? Does he even bathe? I’ve never seen him wear any other clothes; I've never seen him without greasy hair or a sweaty brow.

I can’t avoid getting into the lift with him. I can’t wake up earlier - sleep is precious, yo. I also can’t wait for him to leave first, because I risk getting into the morning jam, and I’ll be late for my classes. Therefore, I have to hold my breath for the entire ride down the block, to keep myself from puking right there and then.

I remember this one night when I forgot to pack my stuff, causing me to rush around the next morning. As a result, I was a little out of breath in the lift with the Reaper. When I finally let go and inhaled, the stench had become unbearable in that confined space, causing me to double over and retch repeatedly. I was too nauseous to walk straight by the time I reached the ground floor. I’m sure I almost died that day - that’s how he got his name.

I tried to mention the smell to him politely a few times, but….I don't think he understood a single word that came out of my mouth. He would just respond with a blank stare aimed at the centre of my face, right at the top part of my nose bridge and just between the eyes - actively avoiding any eye contact. There would be this awkward silence, before I back away and resume holding my breath. It’s like he knows, but he just doesn’t give a shit about it.

The reason why he gets up so early is so that he can shop at the grocery store nearby, which is coincidentally where Han works. Han hasn’t seen what the Rancid Reaper buys - he works the night shift - but he has overheard the conversations between his gossiping coworkers, who love to talk about the Reaper (his stench probably got to them as well). Apparently, he often purchases huge bags of baby diapers, tissue papers, baby milk powder - essentially stuff for babies.

This is really weird, because he definitely doesn’t have a child at home. He doesn’t even seem capable of caring for his own personal appearance: his grey hair is always unkempt; his skin dotted with liver spots and criss-crossed with wrinkles; his lips are perpetually half-open, revealing his worn, yellowish-brown teeth. He looks in no shape to take care of a child. Besides, we would have heard some telltale noises - crying, laughing, playing….

But no. We get these stupid gargling noises, instead. I suffer the brunt of it, since my room is right next to his unit.

It wasn’t this bad when I first moved in. Of course, I was quite shocked the first time I heard the noise - who wouldn’t be shocked when a ear-splitting, disgustingly moist bubbling sound rocks the entire room? But I got used to it, because….well, it only happened twice every night, at 8pm and 10pm.

Then it increased in frequency, to four-five times every night. That was when I decided to take action, and face my neighbour. As mentioned before, his reaction was a typical emotionless stare in my direction, and I couldn’t get anything else from him.

The gargles continued growing in frequency, to the point when it disrupted my studies and sleep. I often banged the wall in frustration, trying to make him shut up. That only made the noise even louder though. I feel like just storming to his house, bashing the door down and club him with a crowbar or hammer or some hard object, but I can’t; I’m not a confrontational person.

So the only thing left to do was to adapt.

I shifted my bed to the other side of the room, and made some modifications to it. It’s essentially a blanket fort, ventilated with plastic tubes and small fans. It muffles the sounds and softens the vibrations, and thanks to the fans, it’s not so stuffy inside. I’m not an engineering major, so I’m kinda proud of myself for building this to overcome the noise problem(cue the “Improvise, Adapt, Overcome” meme). I’ve also decided to study in school instead, too. The environment is much more conducive there, and I return home only to do chores not related to academics.

This new schedule started around a month ago, and I’m happy to say that I feel more productive during my study sessions. However, since I’m returning home at a later time, I’ve started noticing some suspicious activity outside the Rancid Reaper’s home.

Every three to four days, a woman would be loitering at our level at around 9pm. Sometimes she would be leaning on the wall outside the Reaper’s house, other times she would be at the far corner of the lift lobby, using her phone. Despite seeing her so many times, I don’t remember any distinct facial features - in fact, I don’t think I’ve actually seen her face clearly, as her long, flowing hair obscured her face. She would turn to face me if she heard me walking, but would immediately glance away when I look at her.

The most common way to recognise her is her petite figure - she only came up to my shoulder, and I’m not a tall person either. Her attire of choice is normally a black or navy blue figure-hugging dress, together with black high heels and a black smartphone. Even though I’ve never seen her face, I could say she’s kinda attractive, an opinion shared by Jake, who keeps ogling her through our window. Dammit Jake - yeah, it’s a tinted window, but you do know that she can see you when the inside of our flat is brighter than the corridor outside, right?

Her behaviour is….odd, to say the least. I think she spends most of the time outside the Reaper’s flat - she occasionally stands in the lobby so as to avoid me (and Jake, of course). While she’d be using her phone for most of the time, she would periodically stroke the wall or the Reaper’s door tenderly - longingly, like she misses it. This is pretty strange, because I’ve never ever seen any relative or friend of the rancid old man. In fact, I have never seen anyone else enter or leave the flat - as far as I know, the Reaper lives alone. Which makes perfect sense, because who in their right mind would put up with that smell?

There was this one time when I was stuck waiting for the lift with the sex-crazed Rabbits, and we made up some small talk. Yup, as you guess it, the topic of our conversation was our dear friend the Rancid Reaper.

Apparently, the old man wasn’t always like that - in fact, they think that he’s actually around 40 years old, even though he has the appearance of a poorly-groomed 60-year-old. He used to be pretty normal - happily married with a beautiful wife; dressed in proper, clean clothes; quite friendly, would greet most people with a smile, and make some small talk in the lift. Then around a few months ago, I guess….something happened. Suddenly the wife was nowhere to be seen, and the man became increasingly withdrawn, and….he started his transformation into the Rancid Reaper.

I think the Rabbits may have been drunk when they told me this outlandish origin story. But is this mystery woman the wife? I don’t know, but she seems like she knows the Reaper. Oh, and she definitely knows what causes the gargling noises - because whenever she hears a gargle, she would become emotional. She would squat down, put her hands on the door, and start sobbing loudly. When this happens, I stop and hesitate for a moment, wondering what I should do: should I ask her if she’s alright and see if she needs help, or should I continue taking off my shoes and head inside, ignoring her?

I always pick the second option. I don’t know her well, and she seems pretty guarded against strangers, so I don’t want to bother her.

I know she’s outside right now. I heard the familiar clicking sounds of her high heels against the tiled floor outside about an hour ago. Jake heard it too, and I caught him sashaying to the window to creep at her. Again. Damn the horny bastard.

Only thing is….I think something’s wrong next door. It’s been silent for more than half an hour. I’m not saying that’s not a good thing, but the gargles typically come at a rate of every twenty minutes. Also, while they fluctuate in volume, they fade into silence gradually - not like the last gargle, which cut off abruptly.

There’s a knock on my door. It’s Jake.

“I think there’s something happening at the Rancid’s. We need to check it out.”

“There’s no way I’m sticking my nose into his business. I have had enough of his smell already.”

“I can hear shouting and screaming over there, man. Something’s happening and we need to know what’s going on.”

“Hey buddy, take a good look at my face. Do I look like I give a fuck? I can’t hear anything from where I’m sitting, and that’s a good thing - so I’m gonna sit down here and enjoy this silence, and there’s nothing you can do to make me budge from my bed.”

“Hey bro, this is an emergency, man. The hot chick went into the Reaper’s house. Yeah, she stepped in about half an hour ago - then all the shouting started. Think I heard stuff being thrown around as well. We really need to check it out - man, I don’t want the hot chick to get hurt.”

I didn’t move, choosing to stare resolutely at Jake instead.

“Alright, man. You do you. I’m gonna check it out, and you know, if anything happens, if I don’t come back….call the police, will ya?” He left the room.

I think it’s better if he doesn’t come back. The house will be neater.

But….I don’t want to pay a higher share of the rent.

I stepped out after him.

(I'll update this two days later)

[rewardsforgooddeeds]

Hank Pym and Eric O’Grady’s “Relationship”

{{This is for that one anon! As it wasn’t a specific Hank roleplayer who sent it in, this is my take on my Eric with a more canon Hank, how I would personally see their relationship. When I started to ship this, I never really thought that anyone else would bother to join me, so thanks for indulging me anon! 

Without further ado, click the read more for my take on this meme for...ah...Pymgrady as I’ve been calling it! 

Some of the topics discussed are NSFW and may discuss physical and emotional abuse. Read with your own discretion.}}

{{I have some strong ideas about what kind of relationship they’d have and it’s not a very happy one. It’s most based on sex and arguments, so keep that in mind when reading this. I will cross out any question that don’t apply to them.}}

Disagreements:

The main part of their relationship.

Who is more likely to raise their voice?

I’m thinking both of them would probably raise their voices. Their arguments would be loud and would feature them yelling louder and louder just to be able to talk over the other. 

Who threatens to leave but never actually does?

Eric. Always one foot out the door with most relationships but is never the one to end it unless he actively has to run away. Although I think Hank would be similar

Who actually keeps their word and leaves?

Neither of them and they probably should.

Who trashes the house?

Depends if Hank is manic or not. If he is, he’d throw things at Eric.

Do either of them get physical?

Both of them do, very often.

How often do they argue/disagree?

They’re always arguing or disagreeing with one another. It’s rare that they’re in agreement over something anyway. 

Who is the first to apologize?

They’re both super stubborn but Eric is usually wrong, so he’d give a round about apology and offer sex.

Sex:

The other main part of their relationship.

Who is on top?

Hank usually.

Who is on the bottom?

Eric usually. 

Who has the strangest desires?

They both do!

Any kinks?

Eric’s got a praise kink, just call him a good boy and he’s gonna be needy for you. Hank likes to feel powerful because of his inferiority thing so this arrangement works for him, to have Eric needy and desperate for him.

Who’s dominant in bed?

Hank. They use each other to fulfill their needs when it comes to sex, and Hank wants to be in control.

Is head ever in the equation?

Yes. Sometimes, Hank just needs to push Eric down and make him take it. And sometimes, Eric just really needs Hank to shut up about that science stuff that makes him so smug.

If so, who is better at performing it?

Eric. I don’t know why I’m saying Eric but my mind immediately just declared Eric is better at it. How would a jerk like him get laid if he wasn’t good at it? :P

Ever had sex in public?

Does Hank’s lab count? If so, yeah.

Who moans the most?

...Eric. He’s also whiny.

Who leaves the most marks?

Hank.

Who screams the loudest?

Eric!

Who is the more experienced of the two?

Hank’s got age, so he’s got the experience. Especially with having long term partners. Eric’s probably had more partners but most of them have been a one time deal.

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’?

Fuck. Love’s got nothing to do about it.

Rough or soft?

Rough. And usually fast.

How long do they usually last?

Not super long, it’s more about the heat of the moment verses going at it for a long time.

Is protection used?

If they remember.

Does it ever get boring?

No.

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex?

On top of some rather important papers in Hank’s lab.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children?

Hahaha, holy shit, no way. Eric wouldn’t be a good father and Hank’s got a bad track record with kids (considering Ultron). And the last thing they’d want to do would be co-parents.

If so, how many children do your muses want/have? Who is the favorite parent? Who is the authoritative parent? Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? Who goes to parent teacher interviews? Who changes the diapers? Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? Who spends the most time with the children? Who packs their lunch boxes? Who gives their children ‘the talk’? Who cleans up after the kids? Who worries the most? Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from?

Affection:

Eric is secretly needy with this stuff.

Who likes to cuddle?

Sometimes, Eric just needs some affection.

Who is the little spoon?

If they fall asleep together, Eric.

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places?

Hank.

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself?  

Hank.

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable?

Maybe ten minutes lmao.

Who gives the most kisses?

If kisses happen, it’s probably from Eric.

What is their favourite non-sexual activity?

Beating each other up lmao.

Where is their favourite place to cuddle?

Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? 

Eric. He’d definitely grab Hank’s ass in passing.

How often do they get time to themselves?

Not often. They might see each other once every few months.

Sleeping:

They don’t often share a bed. 

Who snores?

Neither of them.

If both do, who snores the loudest?

Do they share a bed or sleep separately?

Separately. 

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? Who talks in their sleep?

What do they wear to bed?

Nothing lmao.

Are either of your muses them insomniacs?

Hank, especially on a bad day.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside?

Yeah but I don’t think Hank would usually take them.

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side?

Side by side, sometimes cuddled up.

Who wakes up with bed hair?

Eric!

Who wakes up first?

Eric, usually to sneak out.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? What is their favourite sleeping position?

The “okay, I’m sick of you, let’s put some distance between us” position.

Who hogs the sheets? Do they set an alarm each night? Can a television be found in their bedroom? Who has nightmares?

Both of them.

Who has ridiculous dreams?

Eric!

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? 

Eric.

Who makes the bed? What time is bed time? Any routines/rituals before bed? Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up?

Hank, especially since Eric is still there, why hasn’t he left yet?

Work:

Who is the busiest?

Hank, since he has an actual job of doing science stuff where Eric just takes various contracts like any mercenary.

Who rakes in the highest income?

Depends, if Eric has a really good job lined up he might make more, but Hank has a consistent income.

Are any of your muses unemployed?

Eric, technically.

Who takes the most sick days?

Hank will take mental health days.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work?

Eric was canoncally late to his SHIELD job like all the time lmao, so him.

Who sucks up to their boss?

Hank used to but he’s done with that shit now.

What are their jobs?

Hank’s a scientist/part-time Avenger. Eric is a former Secret Avenger but now he’s a mercenary villain with a part time job as an accidental super hero.

Who stresses the most?

Hank, Eric is a no stress sorta guy.

Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations?

Hank loves science but Eric kinda hates being a bad guy. 

Are your muses financially stable?

Hank, yes. Eric, no. He’s got periods where he has tons of money and then he blows that money and is broke.

Home:

They really shouldn’t live together, that’s a disaster waiting to happen. I could see Eric forcing his way into Hank’s house because he has nowhere else to stay but it’d be a very temporary arrangement and more of a roommates-who-have-sex arrangement over a domestic one.

Who does the washing? Who takes out the trash? Who does the ironing? Who does the cooking? Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Who is messier? Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Who forgets to flush the toilet? Who is the prankster around the house? Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Who mows the lawn? Who answers the telephone? Who does the vacuuming? Who does the groceries? Who takes the longest to shower? Who spends the most time in the bathroom?

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem?

For Eric, yeah. He’s bad with money and blows it on stupid shit. 

How many cars do they own?

Eric doesn’t own a car. I think Hank would own one, maybe two sometimes.

Do they own their home or do they rent?

Hank owns some places. Eric rents shoe box places and tries to spend next to no time in them.

Do they live near the coast or deep in the countryside?

Eric grew up spending time between Boston and Vermont, and now he goes wherever he can be safe. Hank is all over the place, but they both generally stay on the coast.

Do they live in the city or in the country? 

City.

Do they enjoy their surroundings?

Eric misses Vermont and Boston and being normal. Hank can find something to like wherever he is.

What’s their song?

It’s hard to pick just one ahaha. But I did title the tag/some fics with a line from “Dance Yrself Clean” by LCD Soundsystem, “Make me into bigger pieces”. There’s also the line “Talking like a jerk except you are an actual jerk, and living proof that sometimes friends are mean” which I think is good for them too.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Nothing different.

Where did they first meet?

On a SHIELD Helicarrier. 

How did they first meet?

See the first picture. Eric and his friend Chris were told to guard this door. Not told whether to guard it from someone going in or someone going out, Hank opens the door and Eric knocks him out. And then they steal the Ant-Suit, and the rest is history

Who spends the most money when out shopping? Who’s more likely to flash their assets?

I’m not sure what this means by assets but Eric would definitely be pleased to use sex to his advantage.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over?

Eric.

Any mental issues?

Oh yeah. Obviously, there’s Hank’s canon battle with his mental illness and his struggle on getting help. A lot of my feelings on this pairing have to do with Hank having a hard time with it and taking it out on Eric, something that he’s done before in relationships. 

Eric, meanwhile, canoncally doesn’t have any mental illnesses. However, I see him getting PTSD from dying and having depression over it. There has been hints of him self harming via getting tattoos because of the pain and I could see him self harming in other ways, like with alcohol.

I can also see Eric with a mental disability like ADHD but that’s just me projecting :P

Who’s terrified of bugs?

Neither of them, they’re Ant-Man(s)

Who kills the spiders around the house?

Their favourite place?

Who pays the bills?

Do they have any fears for their future?

Eric is terrified about essentially living for an indefinite period of time at the age he is at now. As long as someone reboots his mind into another model, he’s going to live forever. The curse of being an LMD.

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Who uses up all of the hot water?

Who’s the tallest?

Hank! But Eric’s not above using the particles to give himself a few extra inches.

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other?

Eric.

Who wanders around in their underwear?

Eric.

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio?

Eric.

What do they tease each other about?

They’re not really teasing each other, they’re usually just mean lmao.

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times?

Eric wears awful shirts, Hank cringes. And Eric thinks Hank dresses like a nerd.

Do they have mutual friends?

Not really. Honestly, they both find it hard to keep friends.

Who crushed first? 

Eric. He still has it a lot worse for Hank than Hank has for him.

Any alcohol or substance related problems?

Eric is kinda bad with alcohol. Hank has a pretty addictive personality too.

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am?

Eric.

Who swears the most?

They both kinda swear a lot.