#frugal people

[awesome-casuallyfamouscollector]

Why it costs a fortune to fix a car! I've never seen parts cost SO much in my 30 years as a mechanic

P.S. "Fix what you have"" is great advice...

Not only have the prices of new cars gone through the roof, but also the complex design features of new cars will make their maintenance and repairs astronomically expensive... you will have to pay not only interest on the loan, but also very expensive maintenance for "luxury" extras... Reasonable and frugal people DON'T buy overly complicated and overpriced cars at the moment... If you have a used or owned simple working car, save it a little longer and drive it worry-free. New cars are a complete nightmare in terms of prices and maintenance costs...

[stuckinapril]

Had a seismic moment today where I completely reframed my outlook on ambition & started looking at it (in the context of seeing it in other people) as admirable rather than opportunistic to a fault

[tinyshe]

[cosmerelists]

How would you rank the Sanderson Secret Projects?

[portsandstars]

Makes sense that Kuras doesn't charge rent bc he doesn't have to eat food and (bc he was there when Eridia was founded) is likely a Property Owner™️ so he doesn't have to pay rent. He also emits a LOT of heat so idk if he needs heating either.. His expenses must just be supplies for patients and like - sewage. Prob actually making interest on the secrets he learns

Leander, on the other hand…

[spacepopechilitheninth]

yeah this sums it up

[turkeyinnovember]

lab rats pt1

By the time Curt woke up, he found his spine aching from being left on the couch for… Damn, God knows how long. He blinked off the haziness and let himself roll off the couch, barely catching himself on the carpet with his knees. 

An elbow that landed on the coffee table hit something- a glass. The water inside splashed out and soaked his sleeve. He didn’t have a habit of keeping water on the table, though at the same time he didn’t have a habit of sleeping on the couch. 

He reached for the water, ignoring the neon sticky note on the backside while he drank, the faint taste of dust prompting him to question just how long he had been out for. With the cold water setting in his system and his mind clearing up, he was left with no choice but to recall what he’d done moments, hours, or even days ago. Curt pursed his lips and spun the glass around to read what he expected to be — and is — an uncomfortable reminder of what he does. 

‘thank you agent for your hard work, the subjects have been successfully detained. meet in 304’

Curt could almost snicker at where the director had run out of space to write and had to squish the letters together, but he didn’t have the heart to. Or maybe he was still woozy from the sedative. It wouldn’t make sense for him to feel bad for them. 

Regardless, it’d be a good idea to do as he’s told. 

But something… He whipped his head around to stare at the camera in the corner, almost visualizing it flash red. He finally gave up after it remained motionless, though he promised to himself that he’d get someone to remove the camera. 

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

After so long of being under disguise, dressing back in the suit felt almost strange to him. But, almost ironically, that foreignness was more familiar to him with the frequency of his missions— they weren’t a big organization.

Still, the halls of the building were familiar to him, the near manic look of the research team was just as before he left, and that corner with the scratched wall was familiar. He’d been here since he was a teenager and this is his home, he reminded himself as he pushed open the door to 304. 

There she was. 

She’d transformed the security room into a livable space, insisting on monitoring the entire building by herself. Only rarely does she ever leave to physically direct important processions. Perhaps she didn’t trust many people, perhaps she just liked being in control. 

Curt would hate to have to admit that he was at least a little afraid of her, it was especially ironic after growing up together and creating this entire scheme. Maybe distance was put between them the second she assumed her position as the lead of the organization and head researcher, and he was technically just an employee of hers. Maybe he was even viewed as more a pawn than anything else. 

Even though this started as their project and he didn’t care any less than she did. 

“How was the sleep, Sleeping Beauty?” 

Damn, well, he’s been in here for less than two seconds and he already wants to leave. “Not bad, considering I’ve been sleeping for three days.”

“Yeah, we extended the dosage a little.” She waved her hand dismissively, “I wanted to make sure they were the first things you’d see!” 

He stepped forward with the invitation, glancing over her shoulder at the security screen and cringing despite fully expecting to see the four. They were still out cold, tossed over the floor without much care despite bunk beds prepared for them. He wasn’t sure why that ticked him, it was expected for the personnel to treat them like this. The four no longer wore the clothes he last saw them in — now a uniformed, prisoner-like outfit — and they were decked out with sedative collars and location tracking bracelets. He recognize those and even assisted in the production. 

“It took a bit of time, you know,” She watched the still screen with unreasonable interest. She glanced at him, only then realizing that he wasn’t settled and dragged out a chair for him. “Oh come on Curt, sit down. …it was hard to run all the tests within the time the first dose could provide us, so we had to extend it. Don’t take it to heart.”

“Well, thank you then.”

She ignored the taunting tone and continued, “Not that we don’t trust you, I mean. Of course we recognize your ability to locate and rule out those who are and aren’t serpents, you are exceptional in your skill with a three out of four accuracy, yes, but after nearly eight months all you gave us was that you limited it down to these four.” 

Suddenly, she spun to face him. The grin at her lips now dragged out into a snarl and her eyes narrowed. “And what was that shit with using your birth name?” 

“I don’t recall any policy against it,” Curt rolled his eyes, “I’ve told you I recognize one of them from college and it’d be easier that way. Besides, I didn’t think it concerned you.” 

“How does it not concern me?” She scowled, “You get caught by the police and were all gone! If you want to die, don't fucking drag me with you!” 

A figure on the screen moved and Curt immediately shushed her. It seemed confused, before scrambling to wake the others. 

She clicked her tongue and turned back, tweaking the focus and zoomed in while increasing the volume with her other hand. 

“This is..?” 

“Livestream, yeah.” 

The silence between them pursued with the two concentrated on the screen. As the volume increased and camera adjusted, the audio grew clear and every movement of the four was transferred onto the screen.

“Yo, what the fuck is this?” Christian hissed, glancing around the room. His chin had sprouted uneven bits of stubble and some of his hair fell out of the ponytail. He drummed a finger on the floor, radiating a mix of anxiety and irritation.

“Yeah Ivan,” Den tried to brush her bangs back, uncomfortable with the absence of her hat. “What’d you do this time?” 

“Why is it me?” The man replied half heartedly, glancing around the room and scratching anxiously at his new collar. “What kind of asylum did we get arrested to?”

“I feel like we kind of need one anyway,” Unlike the others, Kristine never even attempted to pick herself off the floor. She lay on the ground with an air of pessimism as she loosened her braid and picked out the wilted flowers. 

“Goddamn,” Ivan held a hand out, checking the dried petals after she dropped one there, “How long have we been here for?” 

Christian climbed up and walked towards the door further in the room while Den turned to the closer one. 

Curt watched the director hum to herself as she clicked a few buttons and another monitor lit up. He leaned back and saw Den poke her head into the bathroom and meet his eye — not literally, but through the camera —

“What the fuck, there’s a camera in the bathroom?!” 

For perhaps the first time since Curt was able to befriend her, they had enough — as Kristine would put it — physic bond to synchronize a sentence, though the conditions were strange. He would have believed the echo from the monitor was his imagination if it hadn’t been for the weird look the director shot him. 

“Unfortunately yes,” She sighed, “There’s vents and mirrors in the bathroom, you know? Can’t risk them trying anything when we’re so close.” 

He made no comment. 

“Yo, that’s kinda weird!” Ivan squeezed past her and climbed on the countertop to face the camera, saying something else that Curt didn’t quite catch with his attention now on Christian. 

He knew the guy had a fiery temper, though over the years he’d gotten much more reserved… supposedly. He shuddered at the strength he used to tug at the door handle. A moment passed when he finally relaxed and pressed his forehead to the door, eyes still glued to the door knob. He seemed to sigh and took a few steps back… Only to jump-kick the door instead. 

He’d worry more for the door if he hadn’t known how much money went into the quality and security of this place. 

Hearing the noise, Den and Ivan rushed to join the two by the front, while the director radioed a few commands to the armed forces waiting outside and connected her microphone. 

“Please refrain from attempting escape, subject seven.” She announced, the speaker captured their attention and the questions poured at once. 

It was the usual procedure. When he had time to stay in the foundation, he was often invited to watch the director negotiate with the subjects and personnel. So, he wasn’t sure why his heart suddenly surged with fear when she leaned into the microphone.

She seemed to know though. 

With the same hand, she switched off the microphone and turned to him, “How much do you want to tell them?” 

“Me?” 

It was rare for her to ask for his input. He didn’t really care what she told them, though there usually is a script for the information the subjects are allowed to have. She seemed to believe that her ideas are superior to all others and they’d only ruin her project. Although, Curt feels like he understood why his opinions matter now. 

He felt guilty.

As expected, she didn’t actually care about his answer and cleared her throat as soon as the four quieted down. “This is,” she glanced almost tauntingly at Curt, “Michelle speaking. I am the director of this organization…” 

He wasn’t ready and somehow she seemed to know that. He couldn’t have her telling them he was behind this and she seemed to know before he could. He wasn’t ready for them to know he betrayed them. 

Please, he almost whispered. But instead he just wrapped his hand around something behind him. It felt like a mug. 

“How about we let someone else tell you more details? Introducing my right hand man,” She turned, grinning at him. Curt stared back blankly as he adjusted his grip. He couldn’t control his face to make any expressions, or make verbal threats for fear of his voice getting caught on mic. His nerves felt as if they were hanging by a thread and he swore he’d kill her right there on the spot the second his name came out of her mouth. 

He blinked and decided to act first. 

Kicking off the chair, he dashed for the mic. Side-stepping Michelle while twisting his torso to face her, his left hand shot in front for the power switch and the right with the mug was raised high in the air, threatening to strike had she made any moves. 

He relaxed his shoulders the second he felt the switch flip, though the blood that rushed his ears muted the click he expected. He didn’t consider lowering the weapon as he protected the mic behind his back and glared at the woman. He could hear the four in the cell start to discuss the crashing sounds he had made, moving from the mic he muted the monitors. 

“What the fuck?” She cursed at him in some type of whisper-yell, though an almost humored smile was present in her tone. Curt hated that. She too, had pushed off her chair and stood up, causing Curt to tense again. Sensing this, she raised both of hands in the air and stepped back, “You’d go this far? I mean, they'll know eventually… Whether they guess it or I tell them.” 

“Shut up,” Curt huffed, he scrambled in his mind for a suitable, appropriate answer for this situation, but when it came up blank he just choked back plainly, “How about you just shut the fuck up? Alright?” 

Distracted, he failed to notice her shift in position as she lunged forward at him and kicked him to the floor. He coughed as he collided with the wires on the floor, allowing himself one second to stabilize before he climbed up and chucked the mug as hard as he could at her head. Expecting the projectile, Michelle moved at high speeds and threw the chair she sat on earlier at him while the mug missed her by a few inches and crashed into the wall.

“You’re cleaning this shit up.” He heard her say. 

“Shut up.” His ribs ached. 

He heard chairs being dragged and someone flopping onto it. “You are also going to be the one that tells them.”

“Why?” 

“Why they have to know? ‘Cause I hate you, and I want to see you suffer, Curtis.”

“Why do I feel bad for doing this, my job, why do I feel guilty?” 

“Why are you asking me, aren’t you in therapy?”

“What’s different about them? This hasn’t happened before.”

“You know what else hasn’t happened before? You using your real name.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Michelle.”

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

Subscript Notes:  i'll post this onto ao3 when i grammer check and revision and all that jazz also sorry for not being on tumblr more school's been so fucking busy im just draggin out and waiting for easter break at this point constructive criticism and stuff r welcomed btw final draft will be on ao3 anyway

[dont-leafmealone]

Shauna's family suck if my wife told me she'd killed a rabbit and put it in the chili I would be like really that's so interesting dear tell me more I've always wanted to try rabbit

[ravencromwell]

For the last half year, I've watched @pinkcupboardwitch periodically wax rhapsodic here on the delights of chai tea. Having finally taken the plunge I can report apparently I shall be learning the intricacies of brewing chai because I'm thoroughly hooked. I had a chai latte, rather than the straight tea, but some cursory googling informs me milk is the best complement to the flavors, so fortune smiled in that regard.

Two things surprised me most: what a full sensory experience it was, and just. how well flavors my very American self wouldn't put together naturally gel. The spice aroma almost scared me off: it was strong and I'm not used to teasing out cinnamon and cardamom etc. When my nose smells "strong" I instinctively default to pepper and oh, hell it's going to be _hot rather than flavorful. But once I took that first tiny sip--think kid inching their toe into water and you'll have a good idea--and the flavor burst, not exactly sweet but bright and rich across my tongue, I started prolonging the experience. Inhaling the spice became aslow prelude, sweetening the anticipation of the flavors bursting across my pallet again.

I like wine, but I'll be honest. About all I can smell when I try to "discern its bouquet" is sharp and acid, to the point I have to work actively not to inhale because I know I'll enjoy the flavor once it's on my tongue if the aroma doesn't put me off entirely first. But this was strong, bracing and made me want to go sniff cardamom and ginger etc. to se if I can untangle the individual notes.

And erm. ginger is actually quite good in certain combinations, apparently? My (again very American. very southern.) take on ginger was too sharp, too _bitter in all the dishes I'd had it in except gingerbread but well. we Southern folks put so much sugar in gingerbread, I figured it could cover up *anything*. I couldn't imagine how vanilla would clash with what I expected to be a bitter ginger note. So I was delighted to learn that ginger, in small quantities, actually seems to contribute to the brighter notes, cutting through some of the sweet richness of the milk and (maybe) cardamom and vanilla along with the cinnamon.

When I've had coffee, I'm the kind of person who has to spice it up: yeah, I'm drinking coffee, I'll say as I drink something decadent with peppermint and white chocolate and a coffee base--it's less about the coffee than the frills, downplaying coffee's strength rather than complementing it. (My subsequent google made me cackle, because apparently a lot of coffee people actually really love black tea, and I couldn't find them more different. Mom was a coffee person, so I tried a fair bit of it and without an infusion of something, it was always so _bitter to me. But the dregs of the cup--which I figure come closest to the original tea flavor just tasted a little nutty, but so _fresh. Just such a different flavor profile, at least for me.)

[wonder-worker]

For Elizabeth (of York)’s personal needs, as might be expected, she lavished funds on clothing, jewels, silver, and gold ... Also interesting for insights into her reign are the entertainments for which she paid and the loans she requested from her acquaintances. At wages of £3, 6s. 8d., annually, she employed three minstrels, Richard Denouse, Jayn Marcazin, and Marques Loryden. Members of the royal family seem to have shared each other’s minstrels since she rewarded those of the king and her two eldest surviving children. Evidence of this royal sharing seems to be supported by entries in the accounts of John Heron, Henry VII’s treasurer of the chamber. In them are several references to the king’s rewarding the queen’s minstrels and fiddlers in amounts ranging from 10s. to 40s.

... Returning to evidence of entertainments in Elizabeth’s privy purse accounts, she paid for the construction of an arbor in the little park at Windsor Castle so that she could hold an outdoor banquet there, and she later compensated the king’s painter, John Reynold, for drawings of beasts and other pleasures at the castle. The only entries referring to her gambling appear in October, which indicate she spent 13s. 4d. twice “playing at dice.” In addition, she owned greyhounds, for the upkeep of which she paid 2d. per day. The queens not only possessed greyhounds and hunted with bows and arrows during the summer progresses but also had lapdogs for their amusement. Finally, just a few weeks before her death, she rewarded a maid from Spain, who danced for her, with 4s. 4d.

-Retha M. Warnicke, "Elizabeth of York and her Six Daughters-in-Law: Fashioning Tudor Queenship"

[feypact]

@librarycards tagged me to post about Books!

cav's list had eir top 9 books of the quarter but i'm a slow reader and often get distracted in the middle, so i only finished 15 books this year (while also having 8 books listed as "currently reading" in storygraph. not counting the 5 i just checked out from the library. this is not a smart or sustainable practice.) so i'm choosing my own adventure and listing my faves from a few different categories

my top 3 Books That Are Just Words of the year:

the spirit bares its teeth (read this in 3hrs on a plane it's KILLER. if you read one book on this list and don't mind its trigger warnings, make it this one)

idlewild (going in my personal canon of non-embarrassing books about fanfiction writers along with dead collections and y/n)

the anthropocene reviewed (i have 2 stay true to myself. and i liked these essays a lot more than any other Book That's Just Words i read this year)

my top 3 comics/graphic novels:

the many deaths of laila starr (finally got around to finishing this miniseries, i loved the ending!)

the essential dykes to watch out for (if you think this book will fix you, you're right. read it slowly though.)

flung out of space: the indecent adventures of patricia highsmith (VERY different from cosmoknights webcomic by the same artist, in a good way!)

3 books-in-progress i'm excited to finish in the coming year:

y/n (this girl has so many problems)

the myth of mars and venus (this was recommended on if books could kill as an alt to You Know What. and it's very insightful about how gender-essentialist stereotypes get perpetuated)

real queer america: lgbt stories from red states (as a Red State Gay. oftentimes i feel like people do too much to defend red states like. If It Sucks, Hit The Bricks. and so this book annoys me sometimes. and focuses too much on urban areas in red states. and is just SO 2017 politically. but maybe i'm being contrary. i want to give it a fair shake and i did think the opening story about that gay guy at her college who fought for trans healthcare coverage for students was very sweet and supported the thesis.)

i never know who to tag. if you want to post about books post about books.

[miserye]

guys my sister forced me to get a ncie expensive vacuum and if i cry

[textilesimp]

i told an internet stranger i went to the goodwill bins with a friend and that i got a frying pan

they responded “how old r u to be getting fucking frying pans”

alongside other remarks on why is an old person on this website, why are you so behind on the times etc. like legitimately i think they thought i was at least middle aged mother

broski. girlypop. i’m twenty buddy how old are YOU????

but i mentioned i had an instructional recipe and maintenance book for how to use a microwave (presumably for first time owners) from the 70’s

and that, finally, was something that wasn’t old people shit

i’m pretty sure they thought i was a mom in her forties or older lmao

just. a lot of comments that made me think they were a maximum of 11 years old. idk i’m tired lol

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Gaslighting? In MY household? It’s more likely than you think

[tinyshe]

Garden Report & Frugal Living 23.03.25

Just a quick note:

None of the spinach, carrots nor radish have come up this month. By the look of the bed, I suspect little birds. Following planting by moon failed there so now for another attempt with the garlic (root crop) and try to pay attention to her another batch in when it's not 'favourable'. Pulled a very juicy leek while I was there to ad to soup.

The viking potatoe plants are huge under the hazel hedge. Gathered few seed potatoes the were forced up in one grow bed, tossed them in potato barrel and covered with soil.

I hope to be well enough and the weather fine and I will start/attempt to revive the poor Asian pear ( char/wood ash, alphalfa pellets, glacial dust and nettle and kelp tea). Some of the wood is wick/alive so hoping to pull her through. Saw Paul also hit with spray part of the pomegranate and again at the blackberries.

Frugal living tip: compost or plant in cardboard box (non-waxed). This is another experiment that just might work for you too. This autumn I composted apples, aviary muck and leaves in a cardboard box under a tree. I hope to plant in it this spring. Side note though, I did put it in a large plastic box that had holes in the bottom to drain. I wanted to be see all around to see how this went/see the bottom too. I've done this before with double walled cardboard/ two inserted and it last one season in the land of eternal fog's 'full sun's. Container gardening doesn't have to be fancy pots and mini grow boxes, get creative, just allow enough for root growth and don't use toxic containers.

[wickedhawtwexler]

i found out today that i wasn't the only person on my team to get laid off, which makes me feel better. misery loves company etc