#embark vet

[golden-girl-daisy]

[kangals]

i'm very happy it worked out so that i was able to meet puppy and his breeder today - and also equally happy that i'm not taking him home until later in the week (i've done the 'brand new dog on a worknight' routine before, it sucks). the show was an all-breed with like 700 dogs, so it was super cool to just wander around and be like "oh borzoi! oh keeshond! oh sealyham!" etc etc it really lit up that obsessive-dog-child part of my brain lol. breeder was there doing her grooming prep so i didn't want to take up too much of her time but she was very nice.

little man is so cute! obviously i'm 100% smitten already. i walked him around outside for like 20 minutes, i'm not a great judge of puppies when they're so young (he turns 8 weeks old tomorrow) but i think he's doing great - he didn't shy away from anything or seem nervous, didn't bark (i know that won't last), seemed very curious and engaged. and, importantly, seems to already be used to crates. he's definitely bigger/chunkier than stellina, i don't know if he's like Certifiably HugeLarge but the breeder said he "has good bone" and expects him to be around 70-75lb as an adult. i got all his paperwork done so i'll pick him up early on thursday morning and take a long weekend. exciting!!!

[roominthecastle]

River & Siegfried: parallels in trauma and healing

Animals, like people, cannot simply be tinkered with and fixed like a wristwatch. Undoing the damage will take time. But we'll try.

[mohammedaldeeb]

⏰ 🚨 attention please🙏🚨

I am Dr. Mohammed Aldeeb,🩸💉 a dedicated specialist in emergency medical care from the Gaza Strip.

💊 🩺🩹

For years, I poured my heart and soul into my work at Al-Shifa Hospital, striving to be a doctor of great repute,

caring for the wounded and the ill with compassion and skill.💉🩹

However😥,

the devastation of war disrupted our lives and prevented us from serving our patients at Al-Shifa Hospital😣💔,

forcing me to leave my cherished home and the familiar walls of the hospital that had become my second home, a place of comfort, peace, and beautiful memories of my work.😔

As I left behind the echoes of laughter and camaraderie with my colleagues, patients, and friends,😰

I embarked on a painful journey southward. I bid farewell to the streets where I grew up, the corners I sought refuge in😥😭💔, and the colleagues who felt like family.

Memories of my formative years and the countless lives I touched during my tenure at Al-Shifa 😣and other medical facilities, such as Friends of the Patient Hospital and the Indonesian Hospital, overwhelmed me as I struggled to come to terms with the upheaval.😔😥

Despite the adversities that besieged me,

I held fast to my dream of becoming a successful doctor. 😀😁✌💚

I was fortunate enough to study medicine at Al-Azhar University, from which I graduated and later served as a teaching assistant, imparting knowledge to aspiring medical students with unwavering dedication. 😀🙏🖤

The idea of specializing in internal medicine drew me back to Al-Shifa Hospital, but sadly,

the brutal war destroyed it, shattering my hopes.In the midst of the chaos and destruction brought by war🥺😣💔

I sustained multiple injuries and narrowly escaped with my life. 🥺

The sanctuary of my home, a place of peace and beautiful memories, was completely destroyed, leaving my family and me impoverished and homeless. 😣💔😰

Yet, amidst the ruins, a glimmer of hope persists as I continue my work at Al-Aqsa Hospital😀, extending a helping hand to those in need without expecting anything in return. I draw strength from the humanity and love instilled in me by my teachers and mentors during my years of education and service.✌😁❤

Today, we find ourselves taking refuge in a humble tent, ⛺ 😭😣💔

stripped of our possessions and livelihoods. The loss of my job, my home, and some of my loved ones is a heavy burden to bear. 😢

Nevertheless, I refuse to succumb to despair, holding on to the belief that brighter days lie ahead.

With a heavy heart, I reach out to you🥺🙏💚

dear reader, seeking your assistance in securing safe passage for myself and my family from the chaos and brutality of war in Gaza. 🥺🙏🇵🇸🍉💔🖤💛💝

With your kindness and generosity🥺, I hope to reclaim the path to achieving my medical career, 🩺💉🩸

becoming a specialist in internal medicine, and returning to help my people.

This would enable me to provide care for my loved ones and contribute to the healing of our wounded nation.Your compassionate aid would mean the world to me and my family.🥺🙏❤🇵🇸✌

Please note that our campaign is vetted

Thanks @90-ghost ... link vetted

Thanks @el-shab-hussein ...link vetted

Thanks @mangocheesecakes ...link vetted

Thanks @horrorhorizon...link vetted

Thanks @nabulsi (number 212)

With gratitude and hope,💜💙

Dr. Mohammed AldeebGaza Strip

WhatsApp: 00972599095244

[toleen-hassouna]

Help me get my life back, achieve my goal, and save the rest of my family

Education, which was young Tulin's passion, now seems like a distant memory, as there is no school, no home, and no safe place. The war has forced us to abandon our dreams and our work. Life as we knew it has stopped, swallowed up by a sea of ​​uncertainty, loss and despair

• My daughter Tulane is a radiant ray of sunshine, bringing joy, warmth and boundless love to everyone she meets. She has been through many health ailments.

• My middle daughter, Wateen, who is five years old, suffered a broken leg as a result of escaping during the aggression against the area surrounding us. Wateen suffers from osteomalacia and poor growth. I hope that this incident will not be repeated and that I will not see anything bad about it

• This is our house, full of our memories and moments of joy and happiness, which has now turned into ruins. His destruction

broke our hearts

Despite the darkness that surrounds us, a ray of hope appears in our hearts - a longing to seek refuge in the embrace of safety, and to find solace in a land untouched by the scourges of war. Egypt beckons to us as a beacon of hope, promising safe haven and the opportunity to rebuild our shattered lives. However, the path to freedom is fraught with obstacles, and we are unable to afford the journey that might lead us to a new beginning.

My family and I are looking forward to evacuating to Egypt, but as you know, a lot of money is needed to pay for the coordination costs in order to cross the border, and we still need money to get the total amount required so that we can travel.

With each passing day, our burdens grow heavier, and our pleas for help become more urgent. We long for the warmth of a safe haven, an opportunity to regain what we have lost and forge a path to a brighter future

My family and I are about to embark on this journey of hope, but we cannot do it alone. Our situation is dire, and we need your support to rebuild our lives and provide a future for our children. Your kindness and generosity can make a big difference. Your contributions will help us provide safe shelter, access to medical care, and the basic necessities of life and we humbly appeal to you, kind souls, to extend your helping hand. Your generosity may pave the way for us to escape this nightmare, and give us a chance to start over

Please, consider helping us during these critical times. Every donation, regardless of size, brings us one step closer to safety, stability and the opportunity to rebuild our lives

With gratitude from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for every donation, every engagement, and every ounce of compassion you provide to our cause. Your support means more than words can express. Together, we can turn our story of loss into a journey of hope and resilience.

My campaign number is 320

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your concern

My campaign was vetted by ✅90-ghost🫂

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of Korben the cats most illustrious nicknames is Piss Boy Supreme. Truly, it wasn’t his fault. Korben is an immaculate groomer and whatever else can be said of him it must be noted that he’s always the tidiest cat in the house.

But the last time I took him to the vet he needed to have a dental cleaning. They knocked him out and he usually comes home high as balls and upset.

On this particular occasion he exited the carrier and I turned to release Leeloo from hers. My beloved said, “Why is Korben wet?”

I glanced over at him, slinking toward the stairs, “No, I think his fur is just scrungly, they always look like that after surgery.”

We both continued to observe him and my beloved exclaimed, “He’s dripping!”

Indeed, he was dripping. I leapt forward and scooped him up, dashing him to the upstairs bathroom. The second my fingers touched him it was immediately apparent that he was absolutely saturated with piss. He was thirteen pounds of pee soaked sham-wow.

The poor lad had been too nervous and high to pee at the vets and instead released the entirety of his bladder onto himself in the carrier.

So there we were. In the bathroom with a very inebriated and distressed sopping wet piss boy. Korben has never needed a bath in his life, he’s always been so fastidious. But he needed one now. We took that poor cat, high as balls, and stuck him in the tub.

The sounds he made were unlike any he’s ever produced. The desperate hoarse wails of an animal that knows his end is nigh. He shrieked and sobbed as we sprayed him down, and our hearts misgave us.

We relented, hauling him out to towel off. But we weren’t convinced he was clean so we kept him quarantined in the bathroom to sober up and dry off.

An hour later when we revisited him we staggered back. The whole bathroom reeked of his uriney misadventure. He was clearly too deeply soaked for a casual rinse. So to all of our mutual dismay we embarked on Korben’s second bath of his life.

He was no less distressed and only a little less high as we soaped him as thoroughly as his flailing limbs would allow. Near the end he just let out an ululating continuous wail of pain but we persisted. He was finally clean.

But the memory remains, the absolute Piss Boy Supreme.

[talafamily]

My name is Doaa, and I carry the weight of a family trapped in the crucible of war in Gaza. With me are my husband, Wissam, and our three beloved children: 9-year-old Tala, 7-year-old Sajid, and our youngest, 18-month-old Sanad. Our tale is one of endurance, displacement, and the relentless pursuit of safety amidst the chaos of conflict.

The Prelude to War:

Before the storm of October 7th, our lives in Gaza were a tenuous balance between hope and despair. But with the outbreak of war, our world crumbled beneath the onslaught of bombs and gunfire. For 220 days, we lived in constant fear as the violence engulfed our city, leaving behind a trail of destruction and death.

A Perilous Journey:

Our journey began In the heart of Gaza City, where we fled our home In search of safety. Seeking refuge, we found ourselves at Al-Rantisi Hospital, where the threat of attack loomed large. When the hospital became a target, we fled once more, seeking shelter in another hospital, where fear and illness afflicted our bodies and those of our children.

The Trek to Khan Yunis:

With nowhere left to turn, we embarked on a treacherous journey on foot to Khan Yunis. With bombs raining down around us and no food, water, or medicine to sustain us, each step felt like a gamble with our lives. The 7-kilometer trek was a test of endurance, as we braved the dangers of the road in search of sanctuary.

Displacement and Desperation:

Upon reaching Khan Yunis, we found ourselves thrust into a new nightmare. The danger intensified, driving us to flee once more, this time to Rafah. Here, amidst the biting cold, we found shelter in a tent, our only protection from the elements. But even here, the threat of war looms large, casting a shadow over our fragile existence.

A Daughter's Struggle

Adding to our burdens, my daughter Tala has been suffering from hypothyroidism since birth. Her condition weighs heavily on my heart, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the need for urgent medical care.

The Price of Freedom:

In Rafah, the specter of war still haunts us, threatening to unravel the fragile threads of hope we cling to. The cost of leaving Gaza through the Egyptian Rafah crossing stands at $5,000 per person, an insurmountable barrier to our journey to safety.

A Cry for Help:

We are a family on the brink, teetering between despair and hope as we navigate the tumult of war. We plead for assistance, for a chance to break free from the cycle of violence and rebuild our lives in peace. With your support, we can overcome the trials that have befallen us and emerge stronger on the other side.

Conclusion:

Our journey is far from over, and the road ahead is fraught with uncertainty. But with your compassion and generosity, we can rewrite the ending of our story. Together, we can pave a path to safety and stability for Tala, Sajid, Sanad, Wissam, and me, ensuring that the horrors of war remain nothing more than a distant memory.

@buttercuparry @appsa @schoolhater @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @brokenbackmountain @tamarrud @4ft10tvlandfangirl

@queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2

@skatezophrenic

@awetistic-things @camgirlsurvivalguide

@baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi @sunfortune

@junglejim4322 @heritageposts @heritageposts

@palipunk @dlxxv-vetted-donations

@illuminated-runas

#free palestine #palestine #free gaza

#gaza strip #donations #gazaunderattack

#gofundme #important #...

[kameld]

HELP A family of 5 members!!🍉

In the heart of Gaza, amidst its lively alleys and the echoes of children’s laughter, there was a small home filled with love and warmth. Within its walls, the sweetest memories were born, witnessing the early days of three children: K amel, Mohammed, and Hyamza

This house was more than just walls and a roof; it was a world brimming with stories. In every corner, the children left traces of their childhood: here, Kamel took his first steps, smiling proudly; there, Mohammed ran a race against time, his laughter filling the air; and in another corner, their mother calmed little Hamza, singing softly to ease his tiny breaths.

But the war decided to extinguish this beautiful world. The family was forced to leave their home, to abandon their memories, embarking on a painful journey of displacement. They carried few belongings but were burdened with an overwhelming fear for their children’s future. Kamel, who dreamed of becoming a doctor, now sees his dream slipping further away. He was deprived of his small school, his spot in kindergarten where he sat joyfully, drawing colorful dreams on white paper.

If you want to save my family from genocide donate through this link 🙏🏻🔗❤️ :

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number

verified on the list is ( #351 

[ashraffamilynew]

Yamen: A Light of Hope in the Darkness"

Meet Yamen, our beautiful nine-month-old son, born into a world of chaos and conflict. His arrival during this war is a bittersweet reminder of both our struggles and our unwavering hope. Each day, he brings a glimmer of light into our lives, and with every smile, he inspires us to dream of a future that feels almost unattainable.

Yamen doesn’t understand the fear that envelops us or the shadows of uncertainty that loom large. To him, the world is still a place of wonder. He giggles and reaches for me with his tiny hands, each laughing a fragile melody that cuts through the noise of destruction. In his eyes, I see the innocence that we desperately want to protect.

But I often find myself asking: How long can we shield him from the harsh realities of this war? How long can we maintain his innocence in a world that threatens to steal it away? As parents, the weight of these questions is heavy. The thought of him growing up in fear is a pain I can not bear.

This is why I am reaching out to you. We are embarking on a campaign to create a future for Yamen that transcends our own difficult experiences. We believe that with the support of a compassionate community, we can turn our dreams into reality. By contributing, you are not merely donating; you are actively participating in the shaping of his world—a world filled with love, security, and opportunity.

Imagine a life where Yamen can play freely, learn joyfully, and grow without the shadow of conflict hanging over him. Your support can help us build that life for him, ensuring he experiences the joy and potential that every child deserves.

Yamen may be just a baby, but in his laughter lies the power to inspire change. Let us work together to create a brighter future, where his innocence is cherished and nurtured. Join us in this fight for hope and resilience so that one day, when he looks back, he sees a life full of love and possibility—a life untainted by war.

Together, we can make a profound impact. Let’s give Yamen and all children like him a chance to grow up in a world where hope triumphs over despair.

DONATION LINK ‼️

Vetted by @gaza-evacuation-funds Number (#328)

Vetted by /@90-ghost

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on their list ( #74 )

Vetted on X platform on this spreadsheet (#391)

[almostheav4n]

Tomorrow Never Came: Chapter 1

masterlist | ao3

pairing: joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ warnings: unspecified age gap, hints at past SA, no break-out, no y/n, no reader description, discussion of past trauma, reader develops a reliance on him, hints at a ddlg relationship in terms of a caregiver x little relationship (reader is of legal age), joel is a vietnam war vet with a very tough exterior so it takes a bit to get it moving but it does by chapter 2! <3 word count: 5,495 summary: set in Texas in the 1980s, Joel picks you up on the side of the road when headed west, you embark upon a journey of self-discovery with the help of a seasoned man

“Do you wanna see the west with me? Cause loves out there & I can’t leave it be.”

The cold beer bottle contrasts your harsh, warm, two-handed grip on it as your feet sway from the bar stool sat at. Your cross-country adventure had landed you here, in west Texas, penniless & destitute, nothing but the jacket on your shoulders and the pistol in your pocket. 

You had traveled from west to east in an attempt to meet your father who you later found out wanted nothing to do with you. Having had saved up for years to make the trip, not accounting for how expensive shit was, landed you in the middle of nowhere Texas, trying to make your way back to your home in California. Truth be told, you set your hopes high that maybe your father had just desired to leave your mom and not you but you learned very quickly that wasn’t the case. 

Now you sit, in a dusty dive bar, men circling like vultures as you try hard to ignore their glances and as one next to you, leans into mumble something you can’t make out. Instead you focus on the sounds if Bob Dylans ‘knockin on heaven door’ that plays loudly from the busted jukebox. 

“Wanna dance?” You slur a bit, not necessarily because of the alcohol, but maybe an attempt to match the demeanor of the man next to you, who bought you the beer. He isn’t ugly, he isn’t pretty. He is drunk though, maybe drunk enough that you can slip some bills from his wallet. 

He’s eager you realize as his hand lands on the small of your back, tripping a bit over his feet to make his way to the dusty center, the wood creaking beneath your feet as you place your hands to his chest, slightly propping him up, the bourbon on his breath quite rich. 

Your eyes scan the room to find men and women watching, finding it a bit silly. Being from California, quite used to others dancing like no ones watching. Finding that in Texas, people are always watchers rather than dancers. 

A watcher catches your eyes, his grayish-green eyes narrowed towards you as he brings a glass to his lips, his face mostly shadowed by a brown cowboy hat as he leans against a pillar. 

You can’t help but be a little taken aback, his aura fogging up the space around him like a puff of smoke, as he tilts his head down, focusing on the drink in his hand, scuffing up his boot on the ground before turning his attention back to you. Swiping his tongue against his bottom lip as he adjusts himself, thumbing his belt loop. 

It fills your belly, the admiration, bubbling up into your throat as you smile, a little quirk of the lips as you stare at him, stupidly and obviously. 

He returns the stare. Not smiling back, but the stern gaze worn on his brows replaced by a softer one, more relaxed. 

You're pulled back into reality as the man’s hand slips below your back onto your behind as you sway to the music, causing you to break apart. Whispering nonsense into his ear comprising of ‘if he wants to get out of here’, knowing he’s drunk enough and will most likely barely make it to his car. 

You’re correct as he piles into his truck and falls asleep halfway out of the lot, allowing you to maneuver the vehicle to the side, eventually slipping into his pockets to pull out his wallet and the forty-three dollars.

Ditching him there, you head for a motel and pay them the $30 fee for one night, giving you enough time to bathe and wash your clothes in the bathtub before eating half of a candy bar and heading to bed. 

The nearest grocery store is a bit of a long haul as you walk a few miles until you head into the small mart. Its the size of a shoe box with people littered up and down the aisles as you make your way to the hygiene aisle, slipping a packaged bar of soap into your deep pockets along with tampons. Wandering onto other aisles, sifting through the snacks before landing on a few breakfast bars, deciding to slide one up your sleeve. Your eyes peeking to the side to find that you’re being watched by a familiar set of eyes. 

You slip up the bar into your sleeve before turning to the man you had seen yesterday, his brow raised curiously, having seen your little trick. 

He strikes you once again in a different light… his worn jeans, scuffed boots, his flanneled shirt, the sleeves rolled up exposing his tanned arms, thick veins roped within them leading to his hands, the one specifically carrying a cart with his own personal items. His dark beard ruffles as he bites on his inner cheek, studying you it seems, his eyes roaming around the aisle and then back to you. The same hat worn yesterday, sturdy on his head. 

You hum a bit, leaning back on your heels, not sure whether he means to turn you in or something else. You simply bring your finger to your lips to create a ‘shush’ sound in hopes he will keep your secret before heading for the exit, stopping to pick up a coke, tossing a quarter to the cashier, and promptly exiting. 

Finding a nearby patch of grass, you pass your time by watching the cars and drinking your Coke until it’s empty. You figure now might be the time to make your way from Texas, heading for the busiest road and sticking your thumb out as you follow along the white line on a dirt path. 

Five cars pass before a blue Ford pickup truck pulls up, the gleaming shine causing you to cover your eyes as they adjust, hearing the driver's door open & close. 

You instinctively take a step back, watching a familiar hat make its way from around the truck as you can’t help but break out into a smile. 

“Third times the charm huh?” You laugh a bit watching him remove a hat, letting it fall to the side in his hand as he runs his other hand through his hair. 

“Uh-huh,” He grunts, leaning against the side of the truck, observing you just as he did in the store and in the bar.

“You a cop?” You question, brows scrunching up to match his hardened gaze. The question makes him laugh, a short release of breath before composing himself. 

“Ain’t a cop darlin’…” He mutters, eyes going to your tattered shoes, biting on the inside of his cheek once more, followed by a clicking sound of the mouth.

“Who are ya then?” you place your hands on your hips, attempting to assert any dominance you have, feeling picked apart by his gaze. 

“Didn’t your mama tell you not to talk to strangers?” He inches closer, calculated, stopping far enough from you to bring you ease, his noticeable large size gaining your attention. 

“Tell me your name and you won’t be a stranger… this being our third meeting I find myself quite familiar with you…” You don’t know why your voice catches in your throat as you speak, but you clear it quickly.  

Maybe because he was unlike the men you came across during your journey. Quite honestly, the men you came across reminded you of the boys in high school. Unsure, dull, weak. A boy in the shell of a “man”. 

He wasn’t a boy in the body of a man, just a full man, through & through. 

“Joel.” He offers, his head pointed towards the ground, focused on a trail of ants, then back to you. It’s difficult to hold his gaze without blushing. “Where ya headed?”

“West… California.” You admit, watching as he nods, eyes searching the sky now, observing as he always seems to do. 

“What’s there for you in California?” He questions, eyes coming back to you as you feel your words stuck in your throat, his stare enough to cause your knees to buckle and weaken. It’s a hard gaze, one you hadn’t noticed as clearly beneath the shadow of his cowboy hat.  

“My mama…” you mutter, words coming out hushed, embarrassed, deciding to focus your own attention on the ants, you stupidly feel naked when he looks at you just bare and open.  

You don’t hear him head for the door, only hear the door opening, your eyes shooting up to Joel as he looks at you, bewildered as if you should know what to do, patiently waiting as your eyes swipe back from him to the truck and back to him. 

“Whatre you waitin on? Get in.” He speaks lowly as you attempt not to feel stupid, the blood rushing to your cheeks with a quickness as you bite your lip back.

“Not gonna kill me right?” You ask, stuffing your hands in your pockets watching as he lets out his same light laugh, just a puff of air. 

“I ain’t planning on it, sweetheart.” He bites on his bottom lip, the thick hair on his beard twitching as he waits. 

You hesitantly approach the vehicle, calculated steps leading you around where he stands by the door, sliding into the truck, the leather seating new indicating a certain amount of wealth that puzzles you. 

To be honest, the men who usually attempted to pick you up were composed of overly excited older men with fast food wrappers & cigarette buds piled up in the passenger's seat and the smell of beer wafting from the vehicle. 

It was rare you ever accepted rides from men, usually finding a chick who could take you a few hours down before dropping you off. 

His truck however seemed almost brand new, and clean, even the trash within it, was still kept nicer than most people who offered you a ride. 

The door shuts beside you with a click as he soon piles in, turning the ignition with ease and one hand steering the vehicle back onto the road with one smooth motion. 

It’s a routine, you think as you watch his legs spread apart along the seat, his free hand fumbling with the volume of the radio as he finds a station playing old country which seems to satisfy him as he relaxes into a manspreaded position. 

The motor and the hum of the songs is all you hear about an hour in as you realize he’s quite quiet. Which is rare. 

He hadn’t pestered you about your past, stared longingly at your exposed legs in the summer heat, or even tried to touch you. 

The few times you had gotten rides for men when you were younger and rather dumb, they had talked your ear off about something irrelevant, asked too many questions, or taken the first opportunity to lean over and try to fuck you right in the seat. 

He is quiet. Joel's quiet… hard set gaze focused on the road, the only constant motion being the rise and fall of his chest & occasional repositioning of the wheel.  

He pays you no mind. You would like to assume he’s gay but you don’t think so 100%

“You pick up strays often?” You break the silence, used to being the quiet one. 

He doesn’t answer immediately, only readjusts himself in the seat. You wonder if he is maybe a serial killer. 

The dirt under your fingernails seems interesting all of a sudden as you focus your attention on cleaning them, the awkward energy looming within the truck, 

“Strays…” He responds, finally, rubbing his hand over his beard before scratching at it with a deep sigh. 

“Don’t usually pick up hitch-hikers if’s what you’re askin’” He grumbles lowly, his Texan accent deep and thick. 

You think for a beat, wondering if his natural nature is stoicism and a cold front or if he’s already annoyed by his pestering passenger. 

“Why’d you pick me up then?” You question turning your head towards him, attempting to read him more. 

God, it takes him forever to respond. You aren’t sure if he’s thinking about the question or just in no hurry whatsoever, but it fills you with anxiety and anticipation. 

“Well…  when you stole from Earl, he sorta went around lookin' for you… Then when I saw you stealin' from that shop, I assumed it’d be best to get you to where you need’ta go so trouble doesn’t find you no more.” He admits shooting you a quick look, a quick raise of the brow in a disciplinary way, he means to scold you, you think.  

“Earl?”

“That man you went home with from that bar…”

“Oh… ha! earl,” you snort a bit remembering him. When you stole, you made sure to never stick around for that reason exactly. 

“Well, my thoughts on the matter are men take advantage of drunk women every day, I’m just leveling the playing field.” You respond in a sassy manner, crossing your ankles to sit up straighter, asserting yourself.  

“I ain’t judgin, I just didn’t want to see him comin’ down to find you.. he’s a drunk & a mean one,” He mentions cracking the window, the summer breeze picking up the strands of his dark brown hair & some gray.  

“You know a lot about this, ‘Earl’ ?” You roll down your window then, the wind blowing over your face a familiar and refreshing feeling, picking up your own hair as it tossles over your face. 

“Knew Earl all my life, worked for me…” He grunts, clearing his throat. 

“You hire drunks?” You giggle, feeling like you caught him, disappointed he doesn’t return the laugh as he only shrugs. 

“Like I said… I don’t judge, ‘f the work is done, it's done.” He switches his blinker on before pulling into a lot filled with shops, your eyebrows scrunching as you eye him. Bathroom break maybe. 

“Bout time to eat and get you some new shoes…” He gestures down to your feet as he parks, slightly far from other cars, maneuvering into the spot with ease as the truck comes to a jolt. 

You giggle dumbfoundedly, tickled by the thought that he thinks you walk around in tattered shoes because you choose to. “Joel… I don't have any money.” 

The sound of his door closing acts as a response as it barely grants you a moment to think until your side door is pulled open. “I am well aware of that, cmon now.” 

He’s confusing, his coldness, and lack of conversation, followed by an offering to purchase new shoes. You feel the need to make it clear to him you aren’t a prostitute. 

“I’m not a hooker,” Your nose naturally scrunches in confusion, ready to bolt if he accuses you of wasting his time or something worse. 

He laughs, a true laugh, his shoulders rising and falling as he tips his head down in a chuckle, the top of his cowboy hat revealed to you. 

“I know darling, now don’t rush on my account,” he teases, still propped up against the door, waiting for you, patiently. 

You bite your lip back to distract from your red cheeks. He’s quick to reach his hand out to help you down from the truck as you take it, calloused and warm. 

You don’t desire to let go, trying to remember the feel as he breaks away once you find your footing. 

His long strides are difficult to keep up with you find, his head moving from left to right then left again, surveying the lot for oncoming traffic or anything else that might come at you sideways in a lot, always on alert it seems as he leads you towards a store reading ‘PAYLESS’. 

The door opens with a jingle as he holds it open for you before leading you down the multiple aisles, past the men's section into the womens. 

You collide with his muscled back as he stops abruptly, your eyes narrowing as you back up slightly. 

It takes a few seconds to realize he is waiting for you. Looking down at you, your eyes connecting up to him as blood familiarly rushes into your cheeks, standing closer to him than you ever have been honestly, allowing you to smell his cedarwood aftershave, makes you wanna purr. 

“Well, you have to go select the shoes now don’t you?” He chuckles as he always does, fast and dry but warm as you look down the aisles, scrunching up your nose in confusion. 

“Where you will be?” It’s stupid to already feel a sort of attachment to him, curious about his well-being more for the safety of your own. 

“I’ll be parked right here,” He gestures to a nearby bench seated across a young child screaming and crying as a mother forces on their shoes. 

You only nod back, not trusting your mouth to form appropriate words as he gives you a nice playful push with his elbow passing behind you, gesturing for you to go on. 

He does just what he said he would and you find yourself slivering between row after row of shoes, eventually finding a nice comfortable shoe that doesn’t cost too much, moving to show Joel before being gobsmacked by a pair of leather western boots. 

You decide to pick both, coming to the conclusion that Joel can decide as you walk towards him with one shoe on each foot.

“Okay, okay, ya gotta choose alright?” You position yourself in front of him, finally getting the chance to be above him, feeling a sort of strength and confidence because of it.

His head rises from where it was slouched on his chest, his hat covering most of it until he takes it off with a puzzled look on his face, probably having just napped you think. 

“I gotta choose huh?” He questions slowly in a drawl, snorting a bit as he rubs his nose. 

“Mhm!” You nod turning to the back of the aisle before walking down the carpet as if it’s a catwalk, giving him a little twirl at the end watching as his brows raise in curiosity. 

He responds with a slow clap as you curtsey to finish it off, eyebrows high as they screw together. 

“Well, aren’t you just the bee's knees…” He smirks a bit turning his head to the side, biting the inside of his cheek in long thought as you rock back and forth on your feet in the silence.

“I say get 'em’ both.” He shrugs. 

“Joel…” you pout placing your hands on your hips, “You’re supposed to choose the best one.”

“Go’n and get both, s’ my choice, like you said… toss that pair on your feet and wear one out of the store. Those shoes have seen better days…” He gestures to worn ones nearby with his foot before sucking his bottom lip in, biting down as you scrunch up your face once again, confused by his generosity. 

You open your mouth to speak until you hear his name called, a gentleman his age heading over with a big smile on his face as Joel gets up to greet him shocked it seems by seeing the man. Before he dives into conversation about some time in Arkansas they shared. 

He seems to forget your presence until he fishes in his pocket before turning to you. 

“Check out baby, I’ll be there soon,” He mumbles, handing you his wallet before turning back to converse with the man about god knows what. 

Baby… 

It sits on your tongue as you repeat the word… baby. 

Once you pack up the western boots & toss your ratty pair, curiosity gets the best of you look through his wallet to find a hefty amount of cash along with a few cards, his ID reading ‘JOEL MILLER’. 

You ponder why he trusted you with it, you could bolt, to be quite honest, live off for months with the amount of cash stored. 

You don’t, finding zero need to. 

Eventually, you realize it could be because he trusts you since he’s the furthest from careless. 

It’s a funny feeling, trust, as you make your way to the checkout stand. A boy maybe a bit older than you reading a magazine as you have to muster up a ‘hello’ to gain his attention. 

“Fuh- Sorry, shi-, I mean, sorry I ain’t see you or nothin’” he nervously rambles taking the boxes, one empty but still necessary to scan.  

“Wasn’t ignorin’ you…” He adds as you smile a bit, attempting to ease his nerves. 

You are reminded of how you are able to make boys nervous, having been able to do so since grade school, and not necessarily because you were some Hollywood star, you simply carried yourself with a certain amount of confidence that had boys sputtering and timid. 

It’s refreshing you find after figuring you don't seem to do that to Joel. 

He is never nervous around you, quite the opposite as you feel as if butterflies are swimming in your belly every time he looks at you.  

The boy with a nametag reading, Ted, begins to bag as you slide the total amount on the counter from Joel’s wallet, your pinky hitting a jar of candy on the counter. 

“These free?” You question eyeing a red lollipop. 

“No, um, you can have it, it’s 25 cents, goes to helping out a kid in need,” He fumbles giving you your change as his sweaty hand releases it into yours. 

You return a quarter and fish out your lollipop, discarding the wrapper into your pocket before plucking it into your mouth. 

It isn’t difficult to notice the boys attention on your mouth as your lips wrap around the sucker as you turn your head a bit, sorta wishing it was this easy with Joel. It makes you smile a bit, the idea of getting this reaction from him but the boy thinks it's for him as he smiles back. 

You make sure to wear a look of disgust to dissuade him from thinking it’s for him, lost in your own fantasies as you stick the lollipop far into your cheek. 

“You uh- need help carrying this back, maybe I can help you carry this back to your car?” He offers a little breathless as you pop the sucker from your mouth. 

“Maybe, uh I don’t know where-” You start

“Sorry bout that darlin’,” the gruff voice behind you is followed by the warmth of a hand on your hip as he picks up the bag with the boxes, ignoring the cashier's hand on it. 

“We all square?” He questions looking down at you in a familiar stern manner, maybe questioning the fact that you didn’t steal this time.

“Uh huh,” you nod, “Bought candy too…”

“Oh yeah I can see that-”

You press the lollipop to his lips cutting him off suddenly, expecting to gain some sort of reaction from him finally, but he only opens his mouth to take it in before stuffing it in his cheek, “Delicious… let’s get a move on.” 

A giggle expels from your mouth as you find yourself bewildered as he leads you out of the store before handing the sucker back to you in which you take it swiftly, before waving goodbye to the clerk who wears the strangest expression of confusion, making you laugh even more. 

You expect to head to the truck, and instead follow him towards a sandwich shop as he holds the door open for an elderly woman before letting you pass in. 

“You know what you want? They got hot & cold sandwiches it seems…” He mutters moving up in the line as there’s a good amount of people in front of you. 

“Umm, just a coke…” you hum happily looking at the glass bottled drink behind the counters before hearing Joel sigh out gruffly. 

“Look at me.” He’s stern when he speaks yet soft as he turns towards you, curling over as he closes the space between your bodies. You attempt to make eye contact with his grayish-green eyes, before looking down at your feet, your stomach turning in on itself. 

It isn’t until his fingers move along your jaw to your chin, tugging it up so you can look at him right there, your face resting in the cup of his hand, his hats shadow covering the both of you, making it feel as if you are the only people in the room as a slow gulp glides down your throat, his eyes searching yours as you can feel his breath on your lips. 

“I need you to get real food, you’re gonna get a sandwich. You understand me?” You open your mouth slightly to breathe in his words, stuck in a trance that has you resting your hands on his forearms for balance. 

You wish to speak, to object but only nod as he seems satisfied before breaking away to move up in line with only two people now ahead of you. 

It feels as if your heart is beating through your throat as you expected him to kiss you then, wanted him to. Yearned for it, lips left unsatisfied as you take them between your teeth to gnaw at them. 

He doesn’t even seem bothered in the slightest as he continues to read the menu, distracted as you size him up. 

His tanned arms roped with veins leading down to his hands, his jeans bolted together with a belt as the jeans hang over his boots, the thick beard that holds specks of gray that creep down his throat. His face littered with scars, the most prominent on his nose… he’s truly one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever come across. 

Why didn’t he kiss you… 

Your thoughts are interrupted as the person making the sandwiches asks what you want. You list off an assortment of turkey and cheese and other veggies before turning to Joel, somewhat seeking his approval as he gives you a little nod. 

You slip his wallet into his jeans before heading to find a table in the back, immediately getting side-tracked by a little kiddie ride shaped as a horse, seen through the glass window of the building, fishing into your own pockets to pull out a little ten-cent coin before exiting through the back door. 

It isn’t hard to settle onto it, clearly made for those younger but something fun to do while you wait as it begins to rock you back n forth, popping your forgotten sucker back into your mouth as you move your hips with the ride, it brings you back to a certain comfort forgotten in your childhood as you close your eyes, listening to the carnival music that exudes from the speaker box next to it.  

“What… are you doing?” You're interrupted by a familiar voice as you turn your head to Joel as he stands by the door, propped up, arms folded across his chest in a questioning way, not judging but curious. 

“Ridin’ a pony…” You hum biting into your lollipop, turning back your attention to the machine as it ceases. 

“Seems like you’re done ridin’ a pony, come on in so we can eat.” He huffs out, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead, the summer sun shining down as you remove yourself before heading inside, sliding into a seat across for him, unwrapping your sandwich to find he’s already dug into his own, pastrami it seems. 

Your eyes narrow behind him as you find a group of teen boys, three, eyeing you. 

One spreading his legs open as another makes a gesture to sit on his lap, realizing they had seen you from the glass on the ride, a queasy feeling filling your stomach as you remove your hands from the wrapper placing them in your lap.

It doesn’t take Joel long to notice, his brow raising, chewing on the last bites in his mouth before leaning back in his seat, expecting some sort of reason as to why you haven’t touched your food. 

“Theyre just… starin…” You whisper, hushed, scared to provoke them, avoiding their gaze, and chuckles from behind him. You’re older than them, you know it, but there's more of them, and with men, when there's a will there's a way. 

He’s quick to set his food down, not missing a beat as his head swivels over his shoulder before back to you. 

It’s hard to hide your sickening expression, regretting your choice to reconnect with your inner child, “Can we maybe leave?” 

The stupid tears prick at your eyes as you once more feel dwindled to a piece of meat for the wolves to pick at. 

You don’t expect the reaction, you don’t expect Joel to get up with a loud screech of the chair against the tile that has patrons of the shop turning to see the commotion. His reserved, quiet, & sturdy demeanor, now replaced with a brash, harsh, mighty one as he approaches the table. 

“There a fucking problem?” 

He doesn’t yell… you think it’s scarier that way? His anger low and simmering yet already intimidating, you hope you never see his anger come to a rolling boil. 

The men, younger, stupider, shake their heads, one of them speaking up, “N- no just having fun, just fun…” You don’t hear Joel’s response but watch as the boys scurry out eventually, allowing Joel to return to the table after apologizing to a nearby couple for his language. 

He sits back down, not waiting to take a bite into his sandwich before gesturing to yours as you obey, unwrapping it and digging in to eat in comfortable silence, a strong wave of protection washing over you. An unfamiliar one, one never expressed to you before, it isn’t necessarily the possessive protection from toxic boys in the past, it’s healthy and feels good? 

You don’t notice he’s finished, lost in your own thoughts until you hear his mouth ‘tick’ and then feel his thumb swipe at the corner of your mouth getting at a bit of mustard there before pressing it to his mouth, sucking it off with a quick motion that leaves you biting into your sandwich to subdue the need to press your lips to his, squeezing your thighs together. 

It’s nice just sitting in silence with him, as he sips his beer, and you drink your coke, finishing eventually, keeping the bottle cap.

Eventually, you head back to the truck. 

Truth be told you hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks, making it hard to stay awake for the drive, eventually resting your head on the window as you think of telling Joel just that, maybe to show your gratitude. 

Instead, you drift off deciding whether to or not to. 

You don’t notice you’re awake until you collide with a plush mattress, groaning into the comforter as you come to realize you’re in a bed. 

You spring awake, forgetting the day, forgetting where you are, only knowing you are now in a strange bed placed there by a person…

“Easy…” A familiar voice sounds out as you scramble to get up, a warm hand pressing to your chest to ease you back down as you remember, it’s Joel, you’re safe. 

He pulls back the covers as you slip in, expecting to hear him follow in soon, expecting to feel his body heat warm the cold bed.  

Instead, you watch as his figure strides to the door, confusion setting in. 

“Joel… where are you going?” It comes out in a hush, feeling too vulnerable for your own skin, the exterior of hyper-independence you've worn since grade school replaced by an anxious curiosity.  

“Got a room right next door, just holler f’ya need anythin…” He moves to open the door, a gust of warm wind entering as you realize it’s night, a nearby clock reading 8:32 p.m.

You don’t know why you’re frustrated, it’s stupid. Your hands balling up the sheets as you clench onto them, attempting to figure out what it would to get him to stay. 

He’s being respectful you think, but it makes a certain loneliness you are familiar with, creep its way up your spine. You don’t have the guts to ask him to stay. 

“Okay… if some serial killer comes to get me in the middle of the night it's your fault,” is all you can get out, attempting to soothe your own anxiety with jokes. 

You can see him slightly as he exits the door, the soft moonlight reflected upon him in a way that makes your heart flutter, “Not on my watch baby, get some sleep.” 

The door shuts with a hard thud and soon you get up to lock it behind him leaving you wishing he shared the bed with you. 

You drift off that night imagining what it would look like if he did.

[pastlivesandpurplepuppets]

Actor Matthew Settle, having personally auditioned with Tom Hanks for a number of leading roles, won the part by delivering steely performances of key scenes. During the casting process, Hanks branded Speirs “a dark character.” Settle unequivocally embraced this categorization as filming commenced in England.

[...]Ron conveyed to Dick. “This TV business is all smoke and mirrors anyway. They can put my nametag on some guy and pretend it is Sparky. They are faking the combat scenes with a stand-in playing Sparky, so why not finish it up that way? I am just not up to the hassle and pressure of an interview. This is not what you want to hear, but I want to be candid about my situation.” Few were more disappointed in Speirs’s decision than Matthew Settle. Many of his fellow actors forged enriching relationships with the veterans they portrayed. Settle was denied this luxury. “It seemed as though he wanted to shy away from the whole process of Band of Brothers,” Settle later noted of Speirs. “He wasn’t quite sure in what light it would leave him.” Because filmmakers lacked Speirs’s direct input regarding his more controversial traits, they “presented the idea to the audience and let them decide whether or not he had killed prisoners and perhaps his own men,” said Settle. “I think that was tastefully done. But perhaps that was why he wasn’t open to being spoken to.”

The absence of Settle’s mysterious character in episode one of Band of Brothers permitted the actor to discover his character in other ways. While the rest of the cast shot the series introduction in England, Settle retraced Speirs’s steps across Europe on an odyssey of his own. He visited France, toured museums, and sought out sites where Speirs had fought. Settle ventured into the Bois Jacques, discovered Easy Company’s foxholes, and was warned to watch out for live ordnance as he did so. At Foy—where Speirs embarked on his iconic run—the actor traversed the wide field and was amazed to see dwellings in town that still bore scars of battle. He ventured all the way to the Eagle’s Nest in Germany. “It made it really come to life for me,” Settle said of the journey. “I’m very happy that I was able to do that.”

Deprived of the ability to converse with Speirs, Settle searched for perspectives on leadership in battle. In addition to reading several Ambrose books, he leaned on Captain Dale Dye—the film’s technical advisor who himself was a decorated combat veteran. “You gotta help me find this guy,” Settle implored to Dye. “Who is he? What’s his tone?” The subsequent coaching greatly benefited his performance: “I had a natural finality that served his character well.” On film, Speirs was stern, direct, and honest. Settle relished interpreting the Speirs mystique—a colorful balance of bravery and secrets. He naturally considers the Speirs scene at Foy his favorite of the miniseries.

[...]A 1,000-person tent was erected on site for a gala and the screening of a ninety-minute compilation of Band of Brothers scenes. Amid all the activities, Matthew Settle finally conversed with his character in the flesh. “When I actually met Speirs, he seemed like he was stoic and quiet and passive,” Settle recalled. “He definitely seemed like a person that may have been hurt once or twice in his life.” The actor’s observations of Speirs during the debut itself were even more affecting. “I sat next to him and Winters as they watched the invasion on screen together,” said Settle. “I honestly just watched the two of them. I couldn’t help myself…. It was powerful. They were reliving it.”

Settle regretted that his interactions with Ron were so fleeting. “I never really got into any deep conversations because Speirs was always very hesitant to talk about anything deeper than just the weather. A lot of the vets would approach him and he would say, ‘Which war?’ I don’t know if he was pretending not to remember them or what.” Speirs’s question was likely an earnest effort to distinguish those who served under him at different stages of his career. Self-consciousness of his hearing loss further precluded him from active conversation.

~ Jared Frederick & Erik Dorr

[copperbadge]

Radio Free Monday

Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!

As a reminder, I will be discontinuing Radio Free Monday in the new year, although the guide to fundraising will remain, and you should feel free to link to it.

Ways to Give:

Anon linked to a fundraiser for Stephen Campbell, who is currently unhoused and living in a tent; he has completed multiple cycle rides across multiple countries and is currently embarking on a fundraising ride from Belfast to North Cape in Cape Town, hoping to have enough to buy a small home to live in when he has completed his ride. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

firewatchers linked to a fundraiser for peculiar-persephone, who is raising funds to move out of Alabama, where they're currently being sent to conservative relatives to avoid homelessness. They're raising funds to get to a majority-blue state where they will be protected from anti-queer legislation and be able to gain disability benefits and access medication. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.

idiomagic's cat SpyBoy recently returned home from several days in the emergency vet hospital, where they found out he has pancreatitis and diabetes; they're facing nearly $5K in veterinary bills with no income, as Idiomagic's husband lost his job last week and she is unable to work. You can read more and give at gofundme here or give directly via gwyndynalexander at Venmo.

News To Know:

brainwane linked to Jacob Kaplan-Moss, who is offering free digital security checkups for people and groups who are concerned about their security posture, particularly if they will be participating in political resistance; you can read more and get in touch here.

Recurring Needs:

gwydion's HOA recently pushed through a special assessment charge of $4.4K for tenants that is due in 90 days, and which ze is unable to cover in full; ze needs to raise another $1400 or so to cover by mid-December. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.

loversdoom is raising funds for an assessment to get help with mental health so she can be treated and remain in school, where she has a safe place to live and basic psychiatric support. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here or give via paypal here.

And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form.

[chrimsonfoxdon]

Got a big wave of job rejection emails again today 😔 please share my sh0p around and consider taking a look. It and my Kinder World collab are my only sources of income atm, and I’m still recovering from my dog’s 3k+ vet bill

Here’s my kinder world collaboration link too! I get a small commission for each download through the link or QR code, but only if I meet a certain amount of downloads. I still haven’t hit that threshold yet, so any help would be greatly appreciated

[drmohammedaldeeb]

Dear Reader,🌷

My original account has been blocked 😣and that's my new one...here is my story 🍉🇵🇸

I am Dr. Mohammed Aldeeb, a dedicated medical professional specializing in emergency care, hailing from the Gaza Strip🇵🇸🕊✌.

For years, I poured my heart and soul into my work at Al-Shifa Hospital, tending to the wounded and the ailing with compassion and skill.😃

However, the ravages of war tore through our lives, forcing me to abandon my cherished home😢 and the familiar walls of the hospital where I once found solace.😥💔

Leaving behind the echoes of laughter and camaraderie, I embarked on a painful journey southward, bidding farewell to the streets where I grew up,😓💔 the corners where I sought refuge, and the colleagues who felt like family. Memories of my formative years and the countless lives I touched during my tenure at Al-Shifa and other medical facilities flooded my mind😢, as I struggled to come to terms with the sudden upheaval😥.

Despite the adversities that besieged me, I persevered in my pursuit of healing😢. My determination led me to Al-Azhar University, where I embraced the role of a teaching assistant, imparting knowledge to aspiring medical students😁💚 with unwavering dedication. Dreams of specializing in internal medicine beckoned me back to Al-Shifa Hospital, but alas, the brutal onslaught of war reduced it to rubble, shattering my aspirations in its wake😢💔😥.

In the chaos and carnage of conflict, I sustained injuries🇵🇸😢, and the sanctuary of my home was obliterated,

leaving my family and me destitute and displaced.😣

Yet, amid the ruins, a flicker of hope persists. At Al-Aqsa Hospital, I continue to extend a helping hand to those in need,💚❤🍉 drawing strength from the resilience instilled in me through years of education and service.🙏🤍💛

Today, we find ourselves sheltering in a humble tent ⛺ 😓stripped of our possessions and livelihoods.

The loss of my job, my home, and the comforting presence of my loved ones weighs heavily on my heart.😣😣

Nevertheless, I refuse to surrender to despair, clinging to the belief that brighter days lie ahead.😓

It is with a heavy heart that I reach out to you, dear reader, seeking assistance in securing safe passage for myself and my family from the turmoil of Gaza. With your kindness and generosity, I hope to reclaim the path to realizing my medical vocation, enabling me to provide for my loved ones and contribute to the healing of our wounded world.

Your compassionate aid would mean the world to me and my family.

With gratitude and hope,

Dr. Mohammed Aldeeb

Gaza Strip

WhatsApp: 00972599095244

Thanks alot @ibtisams for verification....link vetted

Thanks alot @palestinegenocide ...link vetted

[reddit-007]

🚗✈️ Cats: The Worst Travel Buddies (But We Love Them Anyway) 🐾

Okay, let’s talk about traveling with cats for a second. Because, honestly, it's like embarking on a quest to the land of chaos, and you're just along for the ride. Buckle up, folks, it’s going to be a bumpy, fuzzy, and completely unpredictable journey.

1. Packing with a Cat? Good Luck.

You know how people pack with a plan? Not when you have a cat. You’ll pack everything for your trip, and then suddenly, your cat will launch itself into the suitcase like, “Oh, I guess I'm coming with you now?”

Cat logic: "I don't want to go, but I'll hide in the suitcase just to see what happens."

Real-life outcome: You’ll zip up the suitcase, only to hear a meow from the other side of the room because your cat somehow escaped from the bag.

2. The Airport Experience

Getting a cat through security? You’ve never known true panic until you've tried to put your cat in a travel carrier and shove it through an x-ray machine.

Expectation: Calmly hand the carrier over to the TSA agent, with your cat purring peacefully.

Reality: Cat starts practicing its Olympic-level escape routine and you’re left trying to hold the carrier closed while everyone in line stares at you like you’re smuggling a small lion.

3. Car Rides: The Ultimate Test of Patience

If you’re driving, here’s what you can expect:

Start of the journey: Cat is chilling, like, "This is fine. We're going to the vet? Cool, whatever."

Halfway through: The sudden realization that the car ride is not, in fact, "fine," and now your cat is basically auditioning for a role in Mission Impossible while you try to keep it from using your lap as a personal scratching post.

End of the ride: You’re both covered in fur, and your cat is plotting its revenge by eyeing the backseat suspiciously.

4. In a New Place? No Problem—They’ll Tell You Who’s Boss

When you finally arrive at your destination, you might think your cat will just settle in and explore... but no.

Your cat will immediately claim every piece of furniture as its own. Couch? Cat’s throne. Bed? Cat’s kingdom. You’re just there to serve, human.

5. Returning Home: The Real Drama

Home sweet home? Not for your cat.

You’ll unpack everything and find yourself with a very unimpressed furball staring at you as if you’ve personally betrayed it by going anywhere without it. "I will never forgive you for leaving me with the evil vacation-sitter,” it says with one judgmental stare.

So yeah, traveling with a cat isn’t the smoothest experience. But it’s always entertaining... and you wouldn’t have it any other way. If you manage to survive a trip with your cat, consider it a small victory—and probably a lot of cat hair in places you didn’t think possible. 😹 ______ A Good Tool Check Here !

[mermaidsirennikita]

NOVEMBER 2024 LGBT+ ROMANCE RECS

It's always important to support diverse books, y'all. This isn't new.

But on a financial and outspoken level, it's going to be important in the coming days for Americans (and honestly, unfortunately, non-Americans too) to support queer (and BIPOC) books.

So, with no preamble.... And I do want to make clear, I'm a cis white woman (sexuality: God, I don't even know anymore)... Queer books I think you should try—

F/F:

Make the Season Bright by Ashley Herring-Blake. Contemporary. CHRISTMAS. Charlotte heads to her best friend's house for the holidays, only to find that her best friend's sister brought HER best friend... Brighton, Charlotte's childhood sweetheart who left her at the altar years ago. Angst, lots of holiday dating, and hot hot sex ensue.

Seas and Greetings by Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy. Contemporary. Christmas-adjacent. A high-end influencer embarks on a brand cruise with a stern, super hot bodyguard. But someone is threatening to expose her secret... (not her bisexuality).

This Will Be Fun by E.B. Asher. Fantasy. Years after their fearless leader is killed saving the world, a fgroup of heroes must come back together to... save the world again? Sort of? Two core romances, one of which is m/f and one of which is f/f—a nerdy witchy agoraphobic type comes back into play with the assassin she used to hook up with on previous quests.

Set the Record Straight by Hannah Bonam-Young. Contemporary. Christmas! A pair of friends do the classic fake dating thing when one of them needs a girlfriend for a work function and the other needs a girlfriend to show up her ex at a holiday get together. Bi awakening, very sweet, novella.

An Island Princess Starts a Scandal by Adriana Herrera. Historical. Latina and Afro-Latina leads. An heiress strikes a deal with an older businesswoman; she'll give the businesswoman the property she wants in exchange for an introduction and adventure in sapphic Paris before our girl has to marry a man. Truly excellent content.

The Stars Too Fondly by Emily Hamilton. Sci-fi. A scientist ends up accidentally launching herself and her friends into space, and their only help is the hologram of the ship's former captain, who mysteriously went missing with her entire crew years ago. Also, she's a hot ice queen.

A Sweet Sting of Salt by Rose Sutherland. Historical fantasy. A midwife helps a mysterious fisherman's wife give birth, only to find that the woman's origins may be more mystical than they seem. Spoiler alert: lesbian selkies. Also spoiler alert: Comeuppance for a shitty, shitty husband.

A Long Time Dead by Samara Breger. Historical paranormal. A sex worker is transformed into a vampire and enters into a looooong term sapphic love triangle with the villain of the novel and the uptight, persnickety mentor who's taken her in. Kinda like Interview with the Vampire, but hotter and gayer (yes) and way less of a sausage fest.

Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall. Historical fantasy. A young debutante in a "Midsummer Night's Dream x Pride and Prejudice" type world ends up hexed and in a back and forth with a mysterious lady duke rumored to have committed at least two murders.

The Conquering of Tate the Pious by Sierra Simone. Historical. A medieval abbess has to defend her nunnery against the villainous lady conqueror who's come to town. "Defend" can mean many things, FYI.

The Fiancee Farce by Alexandra Bellefleur. Contemporary. A fun little fake dating inheritance game book, in which a cover model/heiress convinces a woman who's already been pretending that she's his girlfriend to quiet questions, to... You know. Fake being her fiancee. In a farce.

M/M

The Will Darling Adventures by KJ Charles. Trilogy, historical. A WWI vet gets entangled with capers and espionage, while falling for a former Bolshevik upper class danger man. SO FUN.

The Gentle Art of Fortune Hunting by KJ Charles. Historical. A romcom in which a prickly upper class man strikes a deal... of a carnal nature... after catching a fortune hunter trying to seduce his niece.

The Witch Walker Series by Charissa Weaks. Fantasy. Multiple romances, and the primary is M/F, but there are multiple POVs and a prominent, excellent, villain second chance romance between two men, both of whom have POVs. Additionally, the hero of the M/F romance has recently been revealed to be bi through the offshoot Tales from Tiressia. Yay!

We Could Be So Good by Cat Sebastian. Historical. 1950s reporters begin as friends, then become roommates, then become... more than roommates.

You Should Be So Lucky by Cat Sebastian. Historical. A baseball player on a rough streak and a grieving and snippy reporter following him around on the sports beat get entangled.

The Queer Principles of Kit Webb by Cat Sebastian. Historical. A former highwayman-turned-cafe-owner agrees to mentor a dandy in the art of highwaymanery so that he can steal from his horrible father. Has deminisexual rep, as well as disability rep.

Glitterland by Alexis Hall. Contemporary. A bipolar down on his luck author hooks up with a working class club kid, then accidentally ends up in a relationship.

Saint by Sierra Simone. Contemporary. A monk ends up touring monasteries with his reporter ex-boyfriend. Lots of exploration of mental health here (and it's super hot).

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen by KJ Charles. Historical. A new baronet moves to the marsh to care for his messy family, only to find out that one of the leading members the local organized crime family is that guy he used to anonymously hook up with.

The Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel by KJ Charles. A veteran turned nobleman employs a secretary in order to help him hold on to his title (his family hates him) only to realize... that secretary... is hot.

Snow Place Like L.A. by Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy. Contemporary. Christmas-adjacent. A costume designer runs into the one who got away and is SUPER BITTER. But, you know. It's a time for forgiveness.

Mafia Target by Mila Finelli. Dark/mafia. An assassin after a prominent don's son gets obsessed in a different way, and their game of cat and mouse becomes something more.

Band Sinister by KJ Charles. Historical. A flustered young innocent ends up having to head over to the Dangerous House after his sister has to rest there following an injury. Finds out that the group of scoundrels there are both better and worse than he thought. Sendup to gothics!

Heated Rivalry and The Long Game by Rachel Reid. Hockey contemporary. A pair of connected books about the long-term relationship between two hockey rivals, which begins as a hookup situationship and turns into something more... One of my ultimates!

Something Fabulous by Alexis Hall. Historical. After the woman he proposes to runs away, a stuffy duke enlists her fabulous twin brother to help him catch her... Demi rep.

Trans and NB

The Prospects by KT Hoffman. Baseball contemporary. The first trans man in the league ends up on the same team as the guy who abandoned their friendship years ago—leading to a rivalry... which leads to another thing.

Rules for Ghosting by Shelly Jay Shore. Light paranormal. A ghost-seeing trans guy ends up having to return to helping with his family's funeral home... And falls for a volunteer... only that volunteer's husband is currently haunting him. Jewish rep.

Most Ardently by Gabriel Cole Navoa. Historical. YA. A Pride and Prejudice retelling in which we have Oliver Bennet, a trans boy trying his best, and Darcy, the dude he hates.

A Shore Thing by Joanna Lowell. Historical. A widow ends up on a long distance bicycle race with a rakish former artist turned bicycle fiend, who happens to be trans. As a note, the author is married to a trans man who happens to be a queer historian!

Chef's Choice by TJ Alexander. Contemporary. A down on her luck woman agrees to pretend to date a Frenchman from a billionaire family as he embarks on an ancestral cooking challenge. Both leads are trans.

A Lady for a Duke by Alexis Hall. Historical. After faking her death at Waterloo in order to transition, a woman ends up tending to her former best friend as he recovers from PTSD and a laudanum addiction. He doesn't recognize her at first. At first... Disability and addiction rep.

For the Love of April French by Penny Aimes. Contemporary. A trans woman hooks up with a stranger, only to discover he's just been hired as a higher-up with her company.

The Pairing by Casey McQuiston. Contemporary. Exes (one of whom has come out as NB since they broke up) end up on the same European food and wine tour years later, and agree to reestablish their friendship (dating back to childhood) in a competition to see who can hook up with the most people.

His Valet by S.M. LaViolette. Historical. An NB valet (uses she/her pronouns in respect to the era) pretends to be a man while infatuated with her boss. In order to have a few nights with him, they take up the identity of a mysterious widow... And it spirals BIG TIME from there.

Unmasked by the Marquess by Cat Sebastian. Historical. A marquess believes his new best friend is a man—they're actually in disguise (uses she/her pronouns in respect to the era). After he discovers their true identity, the friendship yields to more...

Something Spectacular by Alexis Hall. Historical. A genderfluid dandy sets out to grudgingly help her ex seduce a castrato soprano... Only to capture their attention herself.

Queer Non-Monogamy (Everyone Is Together To Be Clear)

Triple Sec by TJ Alexander. Contemporary. Open poly triad romance. A bartender meets a sparkly lawyer, only to find out that the sparkly lawyer has an NB spouse. While our bartender dates the lawyer at first, she soon begins recognizing a tension between herself and her new girlfriend's prickly, aloof wife...

The New Camelot Trilogy by Sierra Simone. Dark contemporary, closed triad. A retelling of King Arthur set within the presidency. Super sexy, super angsty, suuuuper poly.

The Lyonesse Series by Sierra Simone (ongoing). Dark contemporary, closed triad (presumably). A retelling of Tristan and Isolde, in which a bodyguard falls for his boss, then is sent to collect said boss's fiancee... And the shit really hits the fan. Again, super hot, really intense.

The Thornchapel Series by Sierra Simone. Dark light paranormal. Closed(ish) triad with a secondary but prominent monogamous f/f romance. A group of childhood friends get back together just in time for a mysterious magic to begin wreaking havoc on the land... VERY dark academia with some pretty intense taboo (message me if concerned).

Consort of Fire and Queen of Dreams by Kit Rocha. Fantasy, closed triad. A princess sets out to marry a dragon shifter known for killing his previous spouses—except she, with the help of her handmaiden and lover, sets out to kill HIM.

Give Me More by Sara Cate. Contemporary, closed triad. A married couple and their best friend set out on a road trip together, only for things to become... blurred.