#get ready for thanksgiving and keep my house clean

[wewontbesleeping]

UGH I did not manage to get all of my math homework done today even though I literally spent 8 hours on math. after getting home from work. like this shit is truly impossible !!!

[netherfeildren]

Evermore

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel’s your older boyfriend who your parents had a hard time approving of, but you’re engaged now and spending your first Thanksgiving with your family, and well, it’s always fun doing things you know you shouldn’t do under the roof of your childhood home.

-OR-

The Thanksgiving AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak AU; Thanksgiving AU; Devoted Joel Miller; Established Relationship; Thanksgiving is the most boyfriend holiday and it needs to be discussed; Fucking in your childhood home shenanigans; Pretty soft and sweet; Needy behavior; Older man/Younger woman; Daddy kink; Size Difference; Unprotected PIV; Creampie; Breeding Kink; Oral sex; Fluff and Smut; Praise Kink; Come eating; PWP

A/N: Was thinking yesterday that Thanksgiving is the most boyfriendy holiday, and so this seemed entirely necessary after that epiphany. I’m sick as an old dog right now, and wrote this so quickly and just for fun. Any and all mistakes are property of my NyQuil induced high, apologies and enjoy and happy holidays :]

New Year’s Eve follow up

Word Count: 4.2K

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

“You’re doing so good.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, baby. So, so good. It’s going so well.” You drag your nails slowly up the wide expanse of his strong back, feeling the divots and bumps of his spine, the thick padding of muscles that jump and shiver at your touch. He’d donned the nice green and red plaid button down you’d bought him for tonight, and he’s a little damp at the small of his back, giving away the nerves he’s trying to keep hidden from you, but you can tell anyways, sensed them as if they’d been your own fluttering within you. More attuned to another person than maybe is normal, perhaps, but you know this man, your man, your fiance now. You understand him. 

“You think he likes me?” And his voice goes a little gruff, sheepish, words lodging in his throat as he slowly soaps your mother’s special holiday china in the warm sink water. The two of you’d been relegated to clean up duty after you’d finished the beautiful Thanksgiving meal your mother had spent days readying in preparation for your first official visit with Joel as the man you’d soon marry. No longer just the older boyfriend who your father couldn’t stand to hear about, much less bear the sight of. And the come around had been slow going, undoubtedly, tireless work on yours and your mother’s parts trying to get him to relent, to accept the man who you’d chosen to spend the rest of your life with as a good man for his daughter. 

“Yes– yes. Absolutely. You made him laugh so many times. And he was so interested when you mentioned the house.”

You feel him suck in a shaky breath and move to wrap your arms around the strong breadth of his waist, resting your cheek against him, listening to the thud, thud of his beating heart. “Christ–” He gives a tremulous laugh that you follow suit warmly, palms splaying out over his belly. “He was, wasn’t he?” 

“So interested. Please, don’t worry anymore. My mom loves you, and dad’s on his way there too, I know he is, I promise.”

“He’s just protective,” he says, shutting off the water and pulling the plug on the drain. The both of you stand there in the silence together, listening to the little tornado of water suck away the remnants of the perfect dinner you’d just had with your parents and the man you were going to marry. It really had been perfect, and you’re telling him the truth when you say you really do think your father’s coming around. He’d been apprehensive at first, more than apprehensive, perhaps, with Joel being so much older than you, twenty years to be exact. And with a teenage daughter of his own, Sarah, who was spending the holiday with her mother. 

Your mother had always been the easy going one, and she’d taken one look at Joel, the dark, silver threaded curls, the thick shoulders and sparkly, hazel eyes, the too charming smile and had immediately understood. Your father had seen all those same things and seen nothing but trouble immediately deserving of mistrust. Things had been rocky for a time, but when Joel had gotten down on one knee and asked you to spend the rest of your life with him and Sarah, when he’d broken ground on the house he was building you with his bare hands from the dirt up out by the lake, well… your father hadn’t been able to withhold his approval for much longer after that was all said and done. 

“And for good reason,” he continues, reaching for the dish towel, drying off his hands before covering yours over his stomach with his wide palms, pulling your arms tighter around him. He brings one of your hands up to his face, cupping his own mouth with it to press a kiss to the tender cove. “The man should take me out back and drag me through the mud,” he mumbles, muffled into your skin, dragging his mouth slowly from side to side, tickling your palm with his whiskers. 

You press yourself harder against him, shoving him into the edge of the counter, dizzy with the feel of your heart beating so hard against your sternum it reverberates against the ribs in his back. “No, baby. Why? Never.” You press a kiss right over the slope of his spine. 

He gives a soft laugh at the feel of your wriggling against him, trying to find friction anywhere and anyway, not very inconspicuously rubbing your breasts against his back, and he turns slowly in the circle of your arms with that humming laugh still caught in his throat, bending slightly at the knees when he wraps his own arms around your waist to pull you up and into him so that your feet are left to dangle above his own heavy boots. He nuzzles at the warm, fragrant skin beneath the edge of your jaw, a small kiss to the tender spot behind your ear, where he whispers, “‘Cause all I could think about at the goddamn table, sittin’ next to your father, was how pretty your tits look in that dress you wore for me – how much I wish I could kiss that pretty pussy to sleep tonight.” 

You whine low, desperate, needy, wrapping your arms behind his neck to press his face tightly to your throat, breath hitching at the feel of his teeth, sharp at your pulse. “Joel–”

He shakes his head slowly, a long stream of sighing breath warm against your collarbone before he says, “I know– I know, baby. I’m telling ya– your father should kill me for the things I wanna do to his little girl. For the things I do to her already.”

The visit had so far been everything you could’ve wished for, and what you’d appreciated more than anything, more than your father’s very approval of your fiance, or your mother’s happiness for you, was that Joel had found the perfect balance between being respectful, ingratiating even, while still remaining uncowed by your father. Walking into your parents home with your hand in his, a deferential kiss to your mother’s cheek, and a strong, self assured handshake for your father while he’d handed him the bottle of his favorite fine aged whiskey and a demure, I’m glad we could make this work for our girl.

Our girl, he’d said, and it had made everything that lived inside of you with his name on it, everything that was perpetually soft and wet for him, go molten. You loved him. You belonged to him. And you’d chosen him for yourself, and he was sure as hell going to make sure everyone the two of you came across knew what that choice entailed, what it meant to him. Your father had been forced into capitulation, all with the whiskey and the self assurance in Joel’s eyes, your own unbridled elation, and your mother’s giggles and blushing smiles like every other woman who’s ever met this man, unable to resist the charm of that Southern twang and the too gorgeous smile, no other recourse had been left to your poor dad. 

You think of this as you make your way on silent tiptoes through your parent’s dark, quiet home. It had been the one concession you’d not garnered from your father, the sleeping arrangements. He’d absolutely refused to allow you and Joel to share a bed under his roof, no questions asked. And no matter how much you’d pleaded and your mother had cooed and cawed and threatened him, he’d not relented. At this point, you were worried he’d not let you sleep in the same bed as Joel even after the two of you’d been married. But what your father didn’t understand, what even you yourself barely understood sometimes was that you needed Joel. You need him. No one, no one except for Joel himself understood how desperately that ran inside of you. He understood you, he always has. 

You pause as you reach the closed door of his bedroom, splaying a palm against the fine grained wood to take a settling breath, your heart beating so fast you feel it in your throat, chock full of excitement, lust, desperate yearning. To have him here, in your childhood home, where you’d been a teenager, a girl, grown into a woman, you want him so, so badly, inside of you, around you, beneath you. You can never sleep without him anymore, no comfort to be found in the too small bed of your childhood – you turn the knob and slip inside. 

The blue darkness of the guest bedroom paints his form in shadows, big under the pretty quilt your mother has adorning the bed. You can see the heavy mass of his shoulder peeking from beneath the edge of the quilt, the ratty gray t-shirt you know has a faded longhorn stretched across the front; not able to sleep naked and wrapped only in you the way he usually does when under your parents roof. You turn the lock and step carefully on tipped toes, avoiding the creaky bits in the hardwood floor you’re so familiar with after a lifetime living in this house and lift the edge of the quilt to slip into the cocoon of warmth with him. Like a living furnace, you snake your arm over his flank slowly, enjoying the shiver and jerk of his muscles as you stroke him awake. Your palm, passing over thick ridged muscles and soft belly, digging beneath to feel the wispy scratch of hair there. 

He makes a deep sound, low in his chest, legs shifting as he comes to wakefulness, and then the gruff murmur of your name being whispered into the dark, his big, callused palm coming to wrap entirely around your fist beneath his t-shirt, keeping you from slipping it inside his sleep pants. “Baby, what’re you doin’?” He slurs, voice full of sleep and slow waking lust. 

You press your pelvis into his backside, hitching your knee up and over his hip to wrap yourself around him like vines. “I need you,” you mewl, baby voice trying to get ahead of his polite refusal before he’s able to get it out. He’d told you, before the two of you’d embarked on this weekend at your parents house, that there was to be no funny business on your part. As if he didn’t know that that was your favorite kind of business where he was concerned. You press a kiss above his scapula, then open your jaw to drag your teeth against the skin warmed cotton. You rub against him, clutching and pulling at his chest and stomach, biting and kissing as much of his back as you can reach, your foot somehow finding its way into his lap so that you can feel his quickly hardening cock against the sensitive arch of your foot. 

He groans roughly. “You’re gonna get us caught, sweet girl,” he tries to protest, but wraps his hand around the little foot in his lap anyways, pressing the arch of it into that half hard erection, rubbing against it. 

“I need you– I can’t sleep without you,” you whine, and he makes a frustrated sound, turning to face you, gripping your knee as he goes to open the cradle of your hips for himself, drawing your leg over his waist so that you’re suddenly chest to chest, sipping on each other’s warm breath. With a fist in your hair he gives you a hardly believable reprimand, little girl, and presses his lips briefly to yours, quick and damp, barely there, like he can’t help himself, like he knows that if he starts he won’t be able to stop, wandering hands already slipping up the hem of your nightgown, squeezing your panty clad ass. 

“Your parents…” he tries again, the roll of his hips against yours, coupled with a hitched whine, making his objections a little laughable.

“Don’t you miss me? Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me here with you?”

“Of course– of course I do–” You twist your fingers in his curls, the first real press of your mouths, his damp upper lip slotting between both of yours so that you can give it a little suck. Then the tip of his tongue touching yours, and you’re opening all the way for him, moaning wantonly into his mouth, letting him lick and taste behind the line of your teeth. “‘Course I want you here, baby.”

“I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet,” you promise. “Please, please, Joel. Please, just–” The hand squeezing your ass slides between your legs, finds the damp plaquet of panties. Fuckin’ soaked already, needy girl. “Please, just fuck me. I’ll be so quiet, I promise.”

“Baby…”

Please, please, please. He’s always had something about him that turns you into nothing more than a wet little girl desperate for the big, big man’s attention. The impropriety of your surroundings has no bearing on this, the desperation is as present as ever, heightened even, maybe, because of the wrongness of it, because you could be caught red handed at any second if you’re not careful, not quiet enough. 

“‘Course I love you so fuckin�� much. You even need to ask?” He rubs the flat of his palm over your pussy, the tip of his middle finger finding the nub of your clit covered by the soaked wet silk to press lightly on each pass forward.

“No, Daddy. I know,” you breathe soft and secret into his mouth, watch the slight widening of his eyes as you say it. You can picture the flush suffusing his cheeks at hearing you call him so, know the effect the sound of it has on him. 

“Fucking Christ,” he murmurs, pulling you tighter against him, tilting your head back by the grip he has on your hair so that he can deepen his kiss, taste you more thoroughly. “Better be quiet while I fuck you.” He pulls back, mock frown and a note of reprimand in his voice as his fingers dip beneath the silk of your panties to find the wet, swollen mess of you already. He moans into your open mouth, your name and I love you and wet fuckin’ pussy as he starts to pet at you slowly. His fingers swirling at your clit and then moving to your opening, dipping inside just a tiny bit, giving you almost nothing, forcing a frustrated whine up your throat. “I said quiet.”

“Please, Daddy. Please,” you beg, but he returns to your clit, ignoring your whining, pinching the bundle of nerves lightly before he’s back to teasing the mouth of your cunt, dipping the tip of a single finger in shallowly to pull your wetness from you and spread it over your mound, slicking you up for him. 

“We’re gonna go nice and slow. Gonna take my pretty cunt nice and slow, and you’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you? Gonna be quiet – not get us caught, right? Say yes.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, pressing kisses all along his face and jaw and throat, needy fingers twisting in his curls, scratching at the back of his neck and the hills of his shoulders. He make an approving groan of a sound, rolling the two of you over so that you’re on your back, splayed out beneath him, and he pulls the vee of your nightgown down, bearing your breasts to him, sucking on each nipple, first hard then soft, then with teeth and tongue, slicking you in his spit, and you try and stay quiet, you really, really do, but it’s so hard not to cry out at the sight of his jaw hinging wide, seemingly trying to take the whole heavy weight of your breast into his mouth in one go. 

He always has you like he wants you more than anything else in the whole world, like he’s never wanted anything else in his whole life more than he wants you, and nothing feels better than that, nothing makes you crazier for him than the way he wants you so desperately. 

He makes his way down the length of you with kisses to your breasts, your ribs, your belly, the mound of your pelvic bone, before he’s gathering your knees together and bending them to press against your chest, pulling the lace and silk of your panties over the curve of your bottom and diving nose first into your wet cunt, taking in a deep drag of your scent and then dragging the broad, flat of his tongue from your asshole to your clit in one long, slow swipe. The groan he ends on has you almost coming on his tongue just like that, the sound so hungry it would scare someone who doesn’t want to be wanted as badly by this man as you do. And he eats your cunt like he’s angry, like he’s in love with you, like he doesn’t care if you get caught or not. Tongue plunging into your pussy, sucking on your clit, shaking his head, quick and hard, from side to side so that the obscene sound of your wetness against his mouth is all you can hear over the cacophony sounding in your ears right before you gush for him all wet and sweet and sticky, covering his tongue and beard. His lips wrap around your swollen clit again while it still pulses for him, and you have to shove your fist into your mouth, drooling around it to stifle the sound of your cries for his cock while he sucks you into a second painfully fluttery orgasm, your womb cramping hard and tight around nothing, your cunt clutching desperately at air for the cock it’s about to gladly take. The hum of his movements, of his whines and moans, don’t match his promise for nice and slow. They tell you this is going to be hard and deep and might even hurt, and that you’ll like it all the more for that. This is, after all, what you’d snuck in here for, just exactly this. 

He pulls away from your cunt with a loud, wet suck, popping your clit from his puckered mouth like a piece of too ripe, too sweet fruit, before crawling up the length of you, pulling your soaked panties and your nightgown from your body as he goes, shucking his own sweat soaked shirt over his head and kicking his pajama bottoms away. When he takes your mouth again, his face and beard are wet and sticky with your slick, all sweet sugared musk and the angry thrust of his tongue, his fingers, too hard and too tight wrapping around your jaw, grunting into your mouth as he sucks on your tongue. His burning hot cock thrusts between your wet cleft, the sound of your leaking pussy loud enough to be heard over the sound of your mingled panting breaths. You feel him grip himself, stroking once, twice, wide, blunt head bumping against slick soaked skin, before he’s notching at your cunt and shoving in, hard and fast. Not giving you a chance to think about it before he’s bumping at the mouth of your womb, a muted bruise you never tire of; his too big cock that still pinches every time, that presses in just on this side of too deep to always be comfortable, but you don’t care. The proof is in the hurt, and you need constant reminding that he’s real, that this is real. It’s your greatest pleasure, after all, the reassurance of him, of the two of you, and he never tires of giving it to you. You know that giving you the things you need and want from him, turns Joel on more than anything else.

He groans long and low into the crook of your shoulder when he bottoms out and holds there for several drawn out moments, both of you enjoying the pulse and throb of your connection. He’s so deep and you’re so wet for him, taking him so, so well, like he always tells you that you do. You’d felt, from the first moment that you’d laid eyes on him, like you’d been made for him. Put on this earth just for him to find and keep, and doing this, having each other like this, even after all the times you’ve done it, always feels like further proof of it. He grinds against you, hips shifting from side to side, tip bumping against the deepest part of you, before he’s clutching at your ass and flipping the both of you over suddenly, cock never slipping from your tight clutch when he settles you on top of him, buried to the hilt. You feel him in your stomach like this, and you tell him so, little hand coming to rest low on your belly where you’re holding him inside of you, pressing down so that the both of you can feel your connection from the inside out, groaning in tandem all wide and sparkly eyed as you look at each other. And he’s nodding his head at you as you start to shift your hips slowly, feeling the wet slide of his length, the grind of your clit against his pelvis, one hand pressing down on your belly, the other anchoring yourself on his own stomach so that you can rock yourself on him. 

He pulls one of your knees up, resting your foot flat on the bed to open you to his gaze, so that he can watch the way the thick root of his cock splits your cunt open for him to fuck up into. The two of you find your rhythm, you rolling your hips down on his upthrust, and he’s still nodding his head at you, mouthing words made of only air at you while you gasp and gulp for breath, I love you and you’re so pretty and yeah, ride that cock, baby. All you can do in return is mumble his name at him over and over again, Joel, Joel, Joel, nonsensical. Your brain doesn't work when he’s got his cock wedged this deep inside of you, it just doesn’t.

There's sweat pooling in the divots of his collarbones, the sun grizzled notch of his throat, and you fold over forward, changing the angle, deepening it, to lick up those little pools of salt, sucking on his neck until he’ll surely have incriminating bruises tomorrow. You don’t care, not even a little bit. He’s so yours in this moment, always really, but right now, Joel feels so, so incredibly yours, and you love him so much, and he’s going to be your husband one day soon and nothing else really matters besides that. 

He wraps both arms around your back, squeezes you to himself tight and starts to fuck up into you, fast, brutal, again, nothing nice and slow about it like he’d promised, and you’re forced to dig your teeth into his shoulder so hard you’re scared for a moment you’ll taste blood on your tongue. You can feel your orgasm crawling up your spine, pooling like liquid heat in your pelvis while everything goes tight and fluttery inside of you. “How mad would he be if I knocked you up right now? If I fucked his baby girl full’a my baby under his roof?” He grunts into your ear, and there’s the dip in your restraint. As much as you want to hold off and wait for him, you clench down hard around him with a sharp cry, mouthful of his skin to muffle you only barely. “Huh? What’dya think he’d say?” He continues, changing the angle so that his pelvis bumps against your clit on every punch in, balls slapping wetly against the curve of your ass while he pets at the tight ring of muscle back there, tempting you with more than you think you can take right now. “If you go all pretty and round and soft for me before our wedding.” 

You can't speak, you’re nothing but air and sticky, sweet wet in the shape of a girl made just for him. Too tight grip in your hair, and he’s jerking your face towards him, grunting into your mouth as he starts to spill inside of you, burning hot come milked out of his cock and deep into you, and he tells you again how much he loves you, tells you that you’re his pretty little wife because it’s already felt like that for so long. A marrying of your very selves despite the lack of legal nothing that means so little to the both of you when you have all this between you already. Tells you that he can’t wait to see his baby all full of his baby. 

When he’s finished pumping you filled to the brim he turns you over again, pulls out slowly so that the both of you can appreciate the sound of his heavy cock slipping wetly from your well used pussy, and when he bends to eat your mingled come out of your puffy cunt, only to then wedge your mouth open so that he can spit your fluids onto your waiting tongue, all here, taste how good we are, the only words left when it comes to this man and this thing you have between the two of you is always simply thank you. 

New Year’s Eve follow up

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[miabluee]

｡ﾟ.｡✧ some tricks. .

. . .n’ rules .* . ｡ﾟ.

- this is for me to remember particularly, but you may find what i do helpful..? idk lol

* always prepare if your gonna eat heaver meals— ex. i have Bloom before to help with bloating and digestion, and about an hour after i eat or whenever i get home i have a straight ACV shot. sometimes i will have ginger too, just depends (i use the ready-to-use paste, about as much as the length of my finger). lastly, i usually always have a cup of lax tea (x2-3 packets) before bed as a natural laxative and digestion aid. if i decide to fast after that consecutive day, i will normally continue this for 1-2 days. limiting the effects of eating like this might be a small thing, but with consistency it works.

* gradually drink full glasses of water before eating (within the span of about 30-45 minutes so you don’t get sick) or, have ‘sips’ of water between bites. in my experience, this makes what little food i actually do eat pass quicker (depending of what i eat ofc, which is not usually junk).

* using small plates/bowls— take time to prep your meals. spread out and separate what you are having to cover the whole plate and AGAIN, make a little seem like a lot. ofc sometimes eating from bigger dishware is unavoidable, ex. some holiday like Thanksgiving. if that happens, try to fill your plate with primarily vegetables. however still in this case, do your best to never finish what’s on your plate.

✧☾𖤓

* cut your food into smaller pieces; make a little seem like a lot then, limit further— ex. cutting a plain burger patty in 1/2, and one of those half’s into small pieces while leavening that other half alone on the plate. remember, less is always better<3

* enjoy your meal but don’t finish before others— chew your food slowly and thoroughly. match pace with who your around; trick them into thinking that your eating as much. do not make it obvious; engage in the conversation more to help as a distraction.

* illusion; you have to make it seem as if your actually eating— start leaving wrappers around the house, eat (throw away) some leftover meals and dirty a plate, etc. . . saying you ate at work or school will not work forever. u need to make them actually see evidence of food. plan your meals so when you do eat, they see. trust me<3

✧☾𖤓

* focus on clean eating and gut health— limiting sugar, dairy, and carbs; that’s as simple as it gets. (what keeps me from eating that bad shit is my fear of acne; yes, ofc weight gain and bloating too, but acne actually visibly shows on your skin and who genuinely wants to see that). ALSO, keep in mind that the more healthy you eat, the better it will actually taste. trust me<3

* choose quality if binging— here’s the thing; we all are gonna have binge and meta days, and wether you b/p or not, your still eating calories. it’s inevitable. nonetheless, what’s important is that you to pay attention to what you put into your body. in other words, binge on diet foods, dairy free options and overall lower caloric content. like if you want pizza, maybe choose cauliflower crust rather than regular. bread is super high in carbs and same for calories (i’m sure that’s obvious), but my point is that at least you’d be able to cut back some of the calories you’re consuming rather than eating say double or triple what the original product is. it’s a small difference, but it helps.

* adding 100% lemon/ lime juice to water— it helps curb hunger, speed up your metabolism, and reduce bloating (i bring a water bottle of this to work so i don’t eat on my lunches).

* tea and coffee— literally the best, but really try to cut/limit out the sweetener and additives (sugar is sugar, despite it being 0 cal, and u honestly really don’t need it; get the sugar you need from fruit) and, the bad taste of black coffee may deter you from eating.

* bone broth/ vegetable stock— soooo good for you, extremely low cal, and is a wonderful way to get a bit of energy without actually eating. it’s a healthy liquid that has nutrients BUT it is bland, so on occasion i’ll add a tablespoon of salsa (might sound strange but it’s actually reallyyy fucking good).

* diets drinks— i personally try to limit myself because of ‘nonexistent’ sugar (again, even if it says 0). however, caffeine is caffeine and it helps you seem full; go crazy on it because they will become your best friend.

* juice— most juice brands add sugar anyways (even the all natural ones) and if they don’t, still get in the habit of cutting that shit out of your diet. you honestly don’t need it. ofc if you do crave juice, have something on a meta day or spoil yourself with a yet low cal option (like an Sparkling Ice [5cal]). even better, make a smoothie; the best thing is actually knowing what you put into your body.

* honey— it’s very good for you, but it is HIGH in sugar. hear me out: as little as i’ve had it throughout my life, whether it’s in tea, baklava, graham crackers, or whatever else (like it doesn’t even matter how much or what i consume) i’ve found that honey WILL break me out without question. so, while it’s good for you, i do everything to avoid it because i usually get the sugar i want/ need from fruit. ofc there are those few people that can literally eat it— practically drink— as much as they want, so don’t be scared of it because it is sugar. remember, it still is a 100% natural source of sweetener. this is what just works for me, that being cutting it out from my diet completely.

* chia seeds— they are an excellent source of fiber (when i have them, its when i need a pick-me-up; like rather than breaking my fast completely by having solid foods, i’ll always have less that a tbsp with a glass of water instead). just keep in mind calorie content.

* chili peppers/ hot sauce & seasonings— a really good way to help boost your metabolism and limit what you eat; if spice makes you uncomfortable, try to start slowly and build a tolerance (i like to pickle/ jar the chili peppers i get and i usually just add few to my meals, or, i use the alternative: hot sauce).

* gum— it’s a staple, but try to lean towards the sugar free option. (i like fruit flavors most; i just can’t chew the others on an empty stomach easily. sometimes i treat a piece as if it’s a meal and that typically it works for me. it really honestly makes me just drink more water, which is obviously an added bonus).

✧☾𖤓

* fasting— be mindful that metabolic adaptation can occur in as little as two weeks so don’t overdo; the goal is to continuously lose weight. but again, if u do break a fast, it’s okay. please don’t beat yourself up: just accept it and move on.

* we all know this, but distraction; find ways to keep yourself occupied— research something interesting, do something you like, or try something new (there’s infinite possibilities, just keep exploring).

* continuous movement— doesn’t matter what, just burn calories (ex. i try my best to walk at least 10k steps everyday at work, even if i decide to workout or not that night. on my days off i try to focus primarily on reps.). mindset: even a little exercise is better than nothing.

* brushing your teeth— i was actually skeptical about this one, but it does work (i like to do it all; brush and then floss, mouthwash, and then do whitening strips or whatever when i’m really craving something).

* food log/planner— i know that this is controversial, but i personally like to plan out ahead of time (as in weeks) of what exactly i’m going to eat and when/how long i’m going to fast, including meta days. i count calories usually that ‘scheduled’ day before i eat so i don’t go over. i mainly just do this to make sure i’m getting enough of everything, or at least a taste, so i don’t get horrible cravings and binge really bad. however, do NOT obsess; it’s important to treat it as a guideline.

[suraemoon]

It Couldn’t Be Better

Elvis x Reader - snippets of Elvis’ first Christmas with your family

Warnings: None really, just fluff and flirting

WC: 3.8k (was supposed to a blurb idk what happened)

A/N: Look, I’m aware that this isn’t good and is all over the place. I’d spend a few more days on it if I could but today is Christmas (yay!) and it would make no sense to post it any other day. I put in my masterlist that this would hopefully be out by the 25th and here it is. It’s based on the prompts “It could be worse” and something along the lines of “a character’s parent makes them tacky christmas sweaters” Merry Christmas y’all!!!!! I LOVE YOU.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“It could be worse.” Your voice radiates fake optimism as your manicured nails pick a piece of lint from the homemade, bright red knitted sweater on your upper half.

You look up from your quick maintenance to be met with Elvis’ scrunched nose and concentrated eyes as his hand pulls on his sweater's borderline turtleneck collar, a bright “Christmas tree” green to complement yours festively.

The sweaters were beautifully knit with white stripes going back in forth in turn with the chosen festive color. Glued on the knit were an array of tinseled pompoms and ironed on were different designs of patches. Smiles, hearts, stars, animals, santa’s, snowflakes, etc; they all looked like they’d be better suited on a girl’s poodle skirt. “Eh..I guess.”

Your mama had sent you two up to your bedroom to get ready in time for Christmas dinner with your whole extended family.

From her spot next to the stove in the kitchen, one that seemed permanent for her during the holiday season, Mama was cooking up her signature feast and the scent of food filled the air teasingly. The smell enveloped everyone and only built up anticipation for later in the day.

Earlier in the day, when the cold wind flowed in anticipation and the white snowflakes made themselves home, you and your boyfriend had been tasked with cleaning the whole house from top to bottom.

One of the most famous men in the country having his first Christmas at your house? Mama was quick to put a broom in his hand for she had the elder generational quality to not spend her time focusing on pop culture and society but instead what needed to be done in order to keep her home running smoothly, especially during the holidays.

“You need to wash my windows, clean my counters, sweep and mop the floors…”

You couldn’t stop a huff from leaving your lips at the housekeeping task for this was the first year that you desired to be in the kitchen, observant to her methods and helping when you can.

Your mother was easily the best cook you knew, she knew the kitchen like the back of her hand, and with your growing relationship with Elvis starting to become more and more serious, you started thinking about your own cooking skills…well the lack of.

One day you will be handed the baton of Thanksgiving and Christmas meals and there’s no harm in trying to learn the ins and outs of it now.

“You need to give the dog a bath, make sure every bedroom in the house looks neat…”

The urge to be a housewife never striked upon your young ambitious mind until you met Mr. Elvis Presley. He unknowingly had the ability to cooking, cleaning, and raising children seemed so much more desirable. A life centered around being his subservient, supportive wife seemed delicious when his hand was intertwined in yours. A few years ago, a younger and singler you would’ve called yourself crazy. Nowadays you just call yourself in love.

“You got it, ma’am.”

Elvis met this list of chores as long as Santa Claus’ list with a smile for he was a restless person always looking for something to do, always searching for an excuse to move, and you knew deep down that he missed his own mama telling him to do stuff.

Now, a few hours later, that genuine go-with-the-flow grin was replaced with the tug of his lip genuinely trying its best to exude politeness as his hand tugged on the collar of his christmas sweater again, the top of his pale collarbone teasing you in the process.

The sun was now lower in the sky but the clouds did not tire from dropping snowflakes anywhere they could. The warm light of your lamp illuminated your freshly tidied room.

It fit the comfort of the holiday spirit better than the sunshine of the early day where brightness flowed through every window as you cleaned them with a rag, the circular motion of your hand mirrored the making of a snowball. Now the view out of the window was a grayish storm of flurries, weather in which a warm sweater would come in handy.

To make light of an awkward situation, you decide to embrace it and do a quick spin in front of him, showing off your full festive outfit. The cranberry red of your oversized sweater is paired with a black leather mini skirt and black leather boots to match.

It’s an outfit that you wouldn’t usually ever wear for a family event like this. But your boyfriend's overwhelming presence: fingers that you knew would always intertwine with yours as if meant to be, an arm that would never fail to wrap around your waist, feet that would always gravitate towards being around you, it all filled you with an indescribable sense of confidence.

The pure sex appeal Elvis exuded 24/7, seemingly effortless as if the attraction comes with his nature, always inclined you to put your all into matching it’s magnetic energy. The spin stops and your feet go to tippy toes to reach up and kiss his sugar plum lips. “What do ya think?”

Elvis wets his lips as if your lipstick had a flavor and his eyes look you over your figure fully as he takes your hand to give you a quick little twirl. Instead of a full 360 it was more of two 180’s since he stopped a second to take a quick look at your back side.

A low whistle was the background music to the rest of your orbit and his cheeky little smile seemed to glow when in the presence of your maroon red lipstick. “I think I gotta see what’s under it. Gonna let me do a little inspection? Wanna make sure everything’s sitting right…working the way it’s sposed ta.”

“Elvis! It’s Christmas…gotta be family friendly.”

He chuckles as a response comes too quickly to brain, “I wanna get real friendly with you, honey.”

You hit his shoulder playfully, “Stop that.”

“Hey! It’s Christmas, honey. Thought we had to be family friendly and that hitting ain’t very holly jolly of ya. I’m surprised Santa didn’t give ya coal this year.”

“Oh please. I don’t think Santa would mind me putting ya in line for naughty thoughts.”

“I don’t think Santa would mind me bending ya over my knee for a smart mouth but…” He shrugs, putting his sleeves in his pants pockets.

You stick out your tongue at him and he laughs his beautiful laugh. Gliding as if on ice back to the mirror of your vanity, you apply some more blush to your cheeks. Getting a little too warm and secretly having the cheeky desire to show more skin, you subconsciously fold the ribbed collar of your sweater down a little bit.

When met with the black and purple of a hickey on the side of your neck, immediately the collar is put back in its original place, the fabric willing to revert back to how it was supposed to be worn and mocking you in the process as if saying “told you so”.

A whisper escapes your lip, “Jesus…”

Elvis perks up from the seat he has taken on your bed in response, for he loves an opportunity to talk to (and tease) his favorite girl, “Lord’s name in vain on his birthday?”

Your eyes, framed by black liner and an eyeshadowed lid, meet his through the mirror of the vanity, “Elvis what’d ya do to my neck? It ain’t ever been this much before.”

“Hmm…” His arms are at his sides, stabilizing himself against the plush of the comforter, and he looks simply adorable with his false pout as if thinking of a smart remark to respond with.

“Hm indeed.”

He chuckles, “Today about love ain’t it? You don’t wanna put ya collar down and show everyone how much I love ya?”

“Elvis…”

As if automatic, your eyes roll playfully and he decides to continue, “Not gonna show off that pretty little neck, huh? You always look pretty but you look even prettier when you’re all marked up…all claimed.”

“You’re too much.” You shake your head, trying to cool off the influx of red that has awoken on your cheeks.

“People wanna know which one’s E.P.’s girl? Oh, they’ll know. She got the love marks to prove it. She’s the only girl I wanna love on.”

Your soft hands go up to cover your face but they make sure to keep a safe distance in order to not mess up the canvas of progress you have made at the vanity. “Shoo…you’re too distracting. I gotta finish my makeup.”

“So…?”

“So…they’re staying covered.”

A few minutes later, he speaks again from a spot on your bed as you apply the finishing touches of your makeup. “No offense to your mama, honey, but…I don't think homemade holiday sweaters are really in trend. Not these ones at least.”

His slight frown gives way to a bright laugh, a sound prettier than the jingle bells adorning the sleeves of his sweeter.

“Everyone’s gonna be wearing one so we’re all gonna be weird together.”

“Mm.”

“Last year was polka dots…polka dots. So count yourself lucky you weren’t around for that.”

Your mother’s homemade knitted wool Christmas sweaters have been a longstanding tradition in your family since….forever. When asked, it was your great-great grandmother that started it years ago. Or was it your great-great-great grandma? No one would be surprised if the family’s Christmas sweater fascination started way back in the simple days of the cavemen when your neanderthal ancestors were in need of warmth and for some odd reason in addition to fire and sharpened sticks, they had the supplies to create tacky garments of clothing.

You and Elvis started dating in January, so this year was full of firsts with this cold December wrapping it up lovingly in a snug little bow.

When dinner was served at Elvis’ first Thanksgiving with your family, the unusual but warmly content silence around the large, wooden dinner table was interrupted abruptly by your mother’s sudden thought. A soft gasp called for hungry heads to look up from their plates.

You would think there was a lightbulb above her head or that an epiphany to solve world hunger was in her thoughts. Your mama looked at Elvis with a gleeful smile, “I’ve gotta ‘nother Christmas sweater to make this year!” You remember the way Elvis’ smile was apprehension coating in politeness, wondering what the hell she was talking about. Your mama made clothes? How has that never come up?

His blue eyes widened for a full second about two weeks later when he was sat quickly by your mother on the couch with a gift box practically shoved in his hands. “Sit, sit ,sit!” Your mama said as if a little kid again.

The same eagerness did not translate to when you sat down, as by now you knew the routine by heart. You got practically the same gift two weeks before Christmas every single year. Just different designs, patterns, and decor but in its essence the same gift filled with the same love. This was always around the time when mama gave everyone there sweaters either in person or by mail.

Now that you think about it…this giftbox looks suspiciously similar to the same one you opened last year. Is that why your mama made sure you were careful not to break it?

The ornaments on the tree, a brand new one from last year right next to one you crafted out of popsicle sticks and cardboard in kindergarten. The nostalgia and newness blended seamlessly on the forest green branches.

The opening of boxes takes attention away from the tree, a happy presence willing to blend into the background the best it can. Your perfectly wrapped and ribboned rectangle has not even been touched but you watch intently as Elvis tries to carefully peel the tape off the side of the box. Your mother wouldn’t have minded if he tore it to shreds. She would’ve told you off if you had dared, but with Elvis it would’ve been alright.

“Y-you really didn’t hafta get me anything, ma’am. It’s real kind of you.”

Your mother replies matter of factly, “Are you kidding? It’s Christmas! Of course I had to give my son-in-law something.” You and Elvis weren’t married. Not yet. But the law of the heart doesn’t care about physical papers. In the minds of your welcoming family, new people were accepted with open arms and once their hearts got on Elvis they never want him to go.

Elvis brings his attention to you for the first time in a while, lifting your chin up gently with his hands as he admires your face. “You already blessed me with your beautiful daughter. She’s better than any gift, no doubt.” A shade of pink flushes over your face as Elvis gives you a quick, soft kiss.

“Awww. My two little turtle doves. Well, I’m allowed to give ya more than one gift so go ‘head.”

When the top of the box is lifted off, a tiny sweet sounding gasp escapes Elvis’ lips as his eyes fall on the christmas sweater. “O-oh…wow, ma’am. It’s, it’s really somethin’.”

Mama watches intently, “Do ya like it?”

He could pass for a deer in headlights. “More than like it. I can’t wait to wear it for um..Christmas.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the false enthusiasm and at this noise mom’s attention turns straight to you and the box on your lap, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “Are you too cool in front of your boyfriend to open yours?”

Shaking your head, the faint sound of Christmas radio sings in your ears as you open your first gift of Christmas. It’s red to go with Elvis’ green. Youthful to contrast with a growing daughter, homey and nostalgic to compete with a fast, changing lifestyle.

Your smile is genuine as you reply, “Thanks mama. It’s really nice.”

All three of you share the most comfortable of silences. It wasn’t silent really, music flowed through the room and firewood crackled; the background ambience that makes any December day anymore special.

The memories of your mother and her cute interactions with your boyfriend (all of which showing she approved of him greatly) was interrupted by the voice of the man himself. All of sudden you were brought back where you were: in your room getting ready with the person you love the most on the 25th of December.

“You ready to go down, honey? I think I heard some people walk in.”

“Oh..yeah! Let’s go.” Taking his hand, you walk over to the door.

“Wait a second…” Your mind immediately goes to the lamp you left on but his mind is somewhere else completely. He leans down to kiss you, long and hard. The unexpected passion takes you back but your heels stay steady on the ground, all of your attention on kissing him back with the same fervidity. His calloused hand is on your soft cheek and your fingers flow through his black hair. You want the moment to never end but like all things in life it inevitably does.

“Now we can go.” His smirk is teasing and playful. He knows the effect he has on you. He knows by your red cheeks and wide eyes how weak he can make you.

“I-” Practically speechless you just nod and take his hand, walking shakily out of the door. He laughs at the sudden urgency, slapping your behind playfully as you walk in front of him.

When your face, your whole body for that matter, started to become less warm and all of the many happy greetings to family and friends were finished, the evening was going splendidly. Laughs and cheer filled the space and joy at being back together radiated off of everyone in the room.

This year, you started to become more aware of not only yourself but your surroundings. What would this look like to a fly on the wall? What would it look like to a man attending his first Christmas with the loved ones that you have grown up being accustomed to? The Christmas tree shined brightly, decorated with a mismatched array of ornaments that went together perfectly. Every seat had a person and the garlands that Elvis hung up on the walls looked down at everyone adoringly.

From your spot standing in the open arched doorway connecting the dining room and living room you are a true wall flower for a moment. You notice how the group of younger teenage cousins brought their friends over for dinner for the first time ever and it just so happened to be the year where Elvis Presley started to attend the gathering. Giggles and whispers came from the corners of the living room, juveniles no longer embarrassed by matching tacky sweaters.

Looking away, your knowing smirk turns into a wide, adoring smile as you turn your attention to Elvis playing with your littlest cousins on the fluffy rug.

Unlike their older counterparts, their innocent smiles are refreshing for they are oblivious to the fact that it is the Elvis Presley playing with them.

To the little ones, he’s just Mr. Elvis, a friend to play with. He’s cradling the youngest baby gently in his arms while sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor. A toddler in two pigtails and a bright pink knit sweater plays in his gelled hair as if on an oblivious mission to mess it up.

Little Jane managed to get her hand on a brush and was trying to play make-believe hair salon with your boyfriend. “Sit still, Mr. Elvis!”

“Oops.” Elvis winces as the hard brush hits him on the side of the head. “I’m trying, honey, I really am. Hard when you’re trying ta pull my hair out.”

“I’m tryna make ya look pretty! If you wanna look a mess just say it.”

“Maybe sometimes I wanna look a mess.”

She groans, “You hardly got a lotta hair anyway. It’s all shiny and too hard ta make ponies.” And just like that, with an attention span the size of her tiny legs, she abandons both Elvis and the brush to go play with a group of older kids about older elementary age.

Elvis chuckles lightly and focuses on the small baby still in his lap, trying to grab at him with chubby hands. His plush lashes flutter gently as he looks down and gives the little cherub all of his pretty attention and you swear right then and there, your heart was about to escape from your chest.

“Ain’t you the cutest? You’re the cutest, ain’t ya?” The baby giggles an infectious giggle and Elvis’ smirk is just as adorable.

“I gotta get myself one of ya. A cute little baby. A littlun just like you.”

“I gotta get myself one of ya.” He’s talking to a baby, and you’re his girlfriend, the only one who can help him with that wish. Stuck in place, your legs feel weak as you lean on the wall next to you for support and your stomach can be easily compared to a snow globe filled with a flurry of snowflakes. If hearts can do somersaults, yours has many times since you’ve met Elvis.

His hand envelops one of the baby’s white socks gently. “Tiny little sooties too.”

The baby’s gummy grin gets wider as he kicks his feet, fascinated with Elvis’ hand like a new toy. Your boyfriend moves up from the itty bitty feet to tickle the tiny belly lying in front of him, then his palm relaxes, moving up and down in a soothing motion over the little one’s soft sweater. By the way Elvis’ pink lips move you can tell he has started to sing a song. It’s a quiet melody just between him and the baby he's holding. The most beautiful, adorable secrets.

When you remember that you are an actual person in the room and your legs feel less like jello, in your head you decide to walk over to the spot on the rug where Elvis is sitting but before your heels could move a second step, the ringing of a bell fills the room.

“Dinner everyone!” The voice of your mother is a saving grace to every hungry soul in the house.

Elvis stands up, holding the baby securely as if he has been a professional at holding infants his whole life. The mother, your eldest cousin, walks over shyly with a blush on her face as she carefully takes the baby from Elvis’ arms so he could go eat.

“You’ve got a really cute daughter, honey…well her mama’s cute so I know where she got it from.”

Flustered, her mouth parts a little as she adjusts the smiley baby on her hip. “O-oh. Um..thank you. Thank you very much.”

He had a way of speaking, a beautiful charm, that could make any woman he comes across blush. No matter how long the sparkly wedding ring has been on their ring finger. By the way she looked at Elvis, you wouldn’t know that the young mother has been married to her actual husband for two years. You’d think the baby in her hands was Elvis’.

Elvis smirked his “I know what I’m doing” cheeky grin and kissed the baby’s cheek before walking away.

Suddenly, You and Elvis start to walk to each other simultaneously as if all that time apart wore you out and you needed another dose, attracting like the opposite sides of the strongest magnet, the two of you meet in the middle of the room.

You’re the next to get your cheek kissed and he whispers to you, “Remember when ya said earlier that things could be worse when I was grumbling ‘bout the sweater.”

“Oh, I remember.”

He holds your hand and begins to lead you to the kitchen as he finishes his thought. “I’ll tell ya. Today couldn’t get better, honey. It really couldn’t.”

As you walk, the voices of tiny children ring out suddenly, “Mistletoe! Mistletoe!” It took Elvis tapping your shoulder and pointing up to notice that the audience was addressing you and him. Through long lashes you look up and indeed a piece of green hangs above in the archway that you and Elvis stand in. To any on-looker the image of you two could’ve been a painting. You indeed felt frozen in time.

“It’s the mistletoe! That’s your boyfriend, you gotta kiss!” The tiny voices continued their protesting.

Elvis smiles at you, “Well, I guess it could get a little better. It’s bad luck to ignore the mistletoe. Need to feel ya on me…been too long.”

“Merry Christmas, Elvis.” Just like that, you reach up and kiss him, your thumb moving back and forth on his cheek as you tilt your head to the side. He starts kissing you back immediately and an eruption of tiny cheers fills the room.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

1st Day of Christmas

A Sneaky Christmas Surprise

Summary/Prompt - “Did you break into my house??” “You refused to put up any Christmas decorations! What choice did I have?”

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

Christmas Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Here we go! Day 1! Let’s hope I can keep this up for the next 24 days! I hope you enjoy this. 

You’ve been working as a makeup artist on the set of Supernatural for a few years now. Being so well versed in the talent of creating realistic bruises and bloody scars anyone would assume your favourite holiday is Halloween, but it’s actually Christmas. You love sappy Christmas movies, carols and most of all decorating. You’d just been counting down the days until it became socially acceptable to erect your tree. As soon as Thanksgiving weekend finished you had it out of the box and in pride of place by the widow covered in sparkling lights and beautiful ornaments. You would’ve had it up earlier if your boyfriend hadn’t threatened to stop sleeping over if you put it up any earlier than that. You love him, he is the sweetest and most caring boyfriend you’ve ever had, but his Christmas spirit tends to lack a little. But this year you’re determined to get him in the spirit. 

You’re awakened from your reverie by a knock on the makeup trailer door and then the familiar creek of the metal hinges. Then two strong familiar arms wrap around your middle from behind.

“Hey Sexy. You ready to head out?” he asks in his deep, Dean voice.

You turn around in his arms and notice he’s still fully in costume. “Sorry, Dean. I already have a date. Let’s see if we can’t find him somewhere in here,” you tease as you reach for a makeup wipe to clean off the intricate SFX makeup you applied earlier. A few wipes later you start to recognise Jensen as himself again. As a final touch, you drag your hands through his short hair to loosen up the gel and soften the look. You take a step back and admire your work. “Yep, there he is.”

“You know, Jared gets jealous he has to scrub off his own makeup. But I just tell him it’s his own fault for picking an actress instead of a makeup artist.”

“Don’t be mean. Gen is lovely, and Jared can come here anytime and I’ll do it for him too if he wants.”

“No way. This is my special service, plus I know you don’t get paid to stay here late like this.”

“I thought what we did back at your place last night was your special service. And you know it isn’t about the money, I love what I do here.”

“I know you do. That’s one of the things I love about you. Come on, at least let me buy you dinner and then we can go back to my place for some of that other special service.”

You throw the dirty wipes in the bin and then grab his hand urging him to stand up. Once he does you shut off the lights, lock up the trailer and walk hand-in-hand out to his car. He drives to your favourite local takeout place while you both share stories about your day. 

Once you’ve picked up dinner he drives back to his apartment. You generally love his place; it’s so much bigger and more spacious than yours with an amazing view. The only thing that makes it lose its appeal is that it’s never festive for any holiday. You’ve always lived in Vancouver so your apartment is your home whereas you know he doesn’t see Vancouver as home; his apartment is just a place he crashes while he works. His true home is Austin, Texas. But you’re determined to spread and share a little Christmas joy with him before you inevitably part ways for the holidays once filming finishes. 

What he doesn’t know is that you had a little spare time today, as you were only needed on set in the morning, and you only came back to keep up a facade. So you snuck his car and house keys from his trailer and went on a little Christmas shopping spree before going back to his place to give your purchases a new home. You were very happy and proud of what you managed to accomplish in such a short time and on your own. And it makes coming over to see his reaction all the more exciting.

As he pulls into his driveway you have to try really hard to contain your excitement and nerves; you know you’re not the best actor. You have no idea how Jensen can just turn into a completely different person in an instant when you struggle to keep a poker face to contain little white lies. You hold the bag of food while you wait for him to come around and open your door so he can take it. He takes the food and helps you get out before passing the food back so he can unlock the door. As he flicks on the lights he notices the big fibre optic tree by the window, and little ornaments carefully and strategically scattered around the place. 

He turns to you as you join him inside. “Was this you? Did you break into my apartment?”

You nod sheepishly. “You refused to put up any Christmas decorations, what choice did I have?”

He takes the food and places it on the kitchen bench before pulling you into his arms for a tight hug. “It looks great, Sweetheart. But you could have just asked, I would’ve helped.”

You shake your head. “You already said you didn’t see the point because this isn’t your home.”

“Here with you, it’s starting to feel more like home every day. I spend more time here than in Texas now. There’s a lot we need to discuss, but first, I’m starving!” 

He kisses you and then pulls away to gather plates, cups and cutlery while you spread out the food. You dish out the food onto the two plates, while he pours some wine into the glasses and then takes them over to the coffee table. He sits on the couch and starts flicking through the channels while waiting for you to bring the food. You go through this routine almost nightly in either your or his apartment. You know that’s one of the many things you need to discuss, but right now you just want to enjoy a sappy Christmas movie and some yummy dinner with your boyfriend in his now festive apartment. 

[disease-danger-darkness-silence]

Thanksgiving Clean-up Fund! Info under cut.

Raven and I are going up to my daughter's house (almost 100 miles round-trip) for 2 or 3 days to help her deep-clean in preparation for Thanksgiving.

(Discourse Disclaimer: My daughter is Native. She chooses to celebrate the holiday and I honor that wish. I adopted her - legally! - which is why she's more Native than I am and is closer to her roots. As a white person who HAS Native ancestry, thanks to the rape on the Trail of Tears, I feel it's my responsibility to let her lead on this holiday. End disclaimer.)

She, her daughter, and her fiance exist on a very skin-tight budget. She can feed us, but being diabetic, I have special dietary needs that can get expensive.

I also am not gojng to be able to DoorDash like I usually do. Thurs-Sun is our work schedule and we MAY be able to do Sunday but the other three days are lost. Today, I've been packing and doing laundry - it's been a pain in the ass, actually, because I think out dryer is crapping out again.

Usually I'd have DoorDashed today, and made about $60 (before gas) in Carson, or $100 in Reno, depending on our tolerance for... All of that. Fridays in Carson are pretty good, I usually clear $80, but they're garbage in Reno. Saturdays are similar to Thursdays. I usually bring in about $300 prior to gas. Gas is pretty pricy, but I still make a small profit.

Adrienne also needs some specific cleaning paraphernalia that's pretty cheap! But I don't have the money for it and neither does she. I happen to have a Harbor Freight membership so I get things a little cheaper there, and all of the things she needs are under $5. I wanna say it's like... $10 to $30.

I was able to get a $10 advance from Empower and Adrienne was able to send $10, so I can get up there just fine. But getting back, feeding ourselves, gas for running errands (her car isn't registered or insured, so we'll almost definitely be using my car), beverages, etc. - well, you all know how it's more expensive when you're away from home.

Luckily I have access to her kitchen, so I can prepare low-carb options. But I need to GET those low-carb options. I also just got put on new medication, and it'll be ready.... Tomorrow. So I'm gonna have to come back to my pharmacy and pick it up, if possible, which is another $20 in gas.

All this is to day that yes, I can manage without fundage, but it's going to be uncomfortable without it.

I can write, beta, line-edit, and proofread. I've done it professionally and unprofessionally before.

I can do tarot readings, I can do some crafty stuff, I can do 3D design, and I can, when we get home, 3D print stuff. I got enough Amazon gift cards from JustPlay that today I got a 1kg bottle of resin for the printer! So if prefer to, if possible, earn some money online instead of just asking for money.

So email me at therealnovaprime (that's at gmail) if you want to commission something.

If you'd like to keep us from draining my kiddo's bank account due to food needs, but don't want anything, I... Will take donations.

_________________________

I have a Ko-Fi and a PayPal.me. They're both NovasPrime.

My PayPal, Cashapp, and ChimeTag are all $NovasPrime. I have a theme going.

I also have an Amex bluebird account, if you use that.

_________________________

I would rather earn money. I've been trying to find a job for....almost a year. No one can hire me, or wants to hire me, or... Something. Idk. DoorDash is all I've got rn.

But as you all know, I am not so proud that I won't take a few dollars if you have it to spare.

Thanks for reading. Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate. To those who don't, I hope the 4th Thursday in November is particularly awesome for you this year.

[ask-missparker]

Thanksgiving 🍴Family Gatherings | Marvel Blurb🧣

———

Pairing: Mikolai, Ethane, WalshLehnsherr etc

Note: Once again the kiddos are aged down for this fic to 6-8 years old hehe and yes Ethan is the stay-at-home dad/house husband

-> POV style fic (feel free to keep me story going with your own POV)

————

If there was one thing that Avengers Tower made sure to do was celebrate the holiday season, even if they had to tweak it a bit more than usual and have it be fitting for the family members. Hence, November holiday season, Thanksgiving. But due to past circumstances, they like to celebrate it as a Family Gathering instead.

Which was basically pre-Christmas according to Mia, due to everyone getting in the holiday mood for the season. If it was up to her, she would have had the Christmas tree up by today but Liane argued to wait until the weekend before December 1st.

Her and Jeremy had made sure to buy as much food as possible yesterday before chaos rocked the house. So the morning was spent with the getting the kids ready for the day, picking out clothing, cleaning up the living room and taking care of the dining table.

Currently Bella, Astrid, and Josh were watching The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on ABC, in glee. No complaints being raised by them yet, Ethan had put out crafts and other materials for the kids could be entertained.

Next off was the kitchen.

Usually, Nikolai would be preparing pots and Jeremy would be found cutting up any carrots for a salad.

To Mia’s surprise this year, when she walked into the kitchen, she found Ethan already starting to cook the turkey. Well put it in a pot that is, as he already put in the seasoning and garlic powder into the bird. There were potatoes being cooked, things being fried and some vegetables were left out to be washed.

And dare she say the kitchen smelled heavenly!

“Well, Ethan, this is pretty impressive. I thought we doing a non traditional thing this year?” She said chuckling.

Ethan was checking on the potatoes and smiled, “Yeah, we are! I just decided that having the traditional things like turkey and chicken would be more appropriate than just having pastas and sausages. What do you think?”

“Honestly, I love it. I’m just hoping we have enough people to eat this dinner together.”

“Mia, that’s why leftovers were invented.”

The two shared a wink and chuckled, knowing that holiday leftovers were honestly the best thing ever. Plus it meant, no one really had to cook for the following day and just heat up the food provided.

"How are the kids doing?" Ethan asked smiling, flipping the potatoes on the frying pan.

Mia shrugged returning the smile, "Eh, they're fine. Bella says she's thinks the performances are being overdramatic and some don't even know what they're doing on the parade floats."

"Not surprise, Astrid seems calm? Should we be concerned?"

"Nah, if she gets too calm and quiet, then we start asking questions."

"Oh! Joshie, wanted to help me with dinner earlier but...he may or may not poured dash more of seasoning in the chicken, so I had to fix it."

"Aw! He wanted to help out his uncle Ethan. Nice time, put him on salt and pepper duty."

"Already did. The kids a natural at that, but then he ran off to play. Reminds me of myself.."

Mia couldn't help but smile at that, before asking, "You need me to help with anything or..?"

She was cut off by Liane who waltz into the kitchen wearing a fuzzy purple sweater, thick black leggings with boots. She was wearing a beanie to match grinning, wrapping her arms around Ethan from behind and kissed his cheek.

"Hi!" She said in a squeal, her long nails and rings placed against his t-shirt.

Ethan smiled and glanced over his shoulder, "Hey my love, w-why are dressed like that? You're supposed to be helping us cook."

"Well, I was gonna do that but then I realized there are will be way too many cooks in the kitchen!"

"Babe."

"What? It's true!...ugh, fine! Black Friday Sales at the mall are starting right now. Actually, no, correction, Macy's Black Friday Sale starts right now and we want a nice deal."

"I'm sorry 'we'?"

Liane looked at him as if it was obvious, exchanging a look with Mia in hopes that she knows who that's referring too. But the short brunette just shook her head washing a few pots in the sink.

"The 'we' I'm referring too is me, Cole and Nikolai." Liane explained grinning excited, "Might even bring the kids with us too, they can sneak in between place and grab the good stuff."

Ethan's eyes widen and paused look at her as he said, "You're gonna do what?! The 3 of you are heading out to some sale at Thanksgiving morning."

Mia's blinked almost dropping the pot in the sink at the sudden news and added, "You can just leave."

"Oh come on, it's literally 11:35am! So technically the time we arrive to the mall it will be 12:15-ish." Liane replied softly, "We won't be out long!"

———

Mia shouted out her husband's name wanting to get clarification on what she heard, only to be met with the sound of yelling and a car engine from outside. Her eyes widen grabbing her sweater and beanie rushing to the balcony of The Tower, seeing Cole and Nikolai packing up the car.

Hell, Joshua about to climb into the car. She knew that Astrid wasn't a fan of crowded places, so it made sense but her kid. Wait where was Bella then?!

Her voice boomed yelling, "Hey, no! Get out of the car!"

Nikolai was packing up bags and looked up towards the balcony seeing his wife. He grinned with a cheeky expression, "No can do, love! Flat screen TVs and headphones are on sale!"

"Grr, Niko! You're supposed to be helping, not shopping!"

"You guys can handle it! Don't forget the garlic rolls for your famous fettuccine alfredo!"

"You won't be getting any, if you don't come back inside!"

"I think I'll live!"

"Niko!"

Cole's laughter can be heard from inside the drivers's seat. He texted Jeremy that he was going to go shopping earlier, and he quote 'get some early holiday done' but in reality he just wanted to buy his favorite stuff on sale.

He shouted from inside, "We'll be fine, darling! Go enjoy your afternoon without us for a while."

Before Mia can say anything else, she saw Liane sprint out the building and into the car, hearing Bella’s voice from the backseat replying sometimes to her month.

It was like her words were drowned out by their conversation as the car door slammed shut and the engine blew, without a trace of a word later they were gone.

———

When Mia returned to the kitchen, she found Astrid hoping Jeremy with making some cupcakes and even taste testing the ingredients. She knew she liked it much better than heading out to a nosy store with Cole and her cousins.

Ethan has seemed to left and chill out in the living room, leaving the brunette in charge of the food being cooked on the stove.

Mia chuckled, “Have fun there you two?”

Astrid was licking the spoon and smiled before replying, “Yeah. We made a salad and put garlic bread in the oven for dinner.”

“Why, aren’t you a little helper? I should just make you finish getting dinner ready, huh?”

In response Astrid made a face at her auntie’s cheesy teasing and went back to licking the spoon. Jeremy chuckled at his daughter’s expression and shook his head.

“She’s not falling for that.” Jeremy joked softly, glanced at Mia’s direction as he poured the batter in a pan. “But for real, you should’ve seen her earlier. She was a big help.”

Mia chuckled as she nodded stirring the pasta as she added cheese and creamy sauce to it.

She glanced at him and smiled, “Just surprise she didn’t insist on finishing the stirring the batter herself.”

“Oh no, she insisted on added in ingredients and making the icing.” Jeremy replied chuckling as he nods at Astrid’s direction, who was mixing the icing in a bowl. “But I reminded her to ask for help with anything.”

Mia melted smiled as she said her thoughts out loud, “Aww you’re such a good dad.”

Jeremy’s expression soften immensely at her comment. He’s been a father for 4 years now, but just hearing still made him get all warm and fuzzy inside. It was a feeling he couldn’t quite explain, but any other guardian or parent would understand.

“You’re a good mom too, Mia.” He replied in a gentle tone as he smiled sweetly.

“Aww! Well, not that good, cause I let my son go early Black Friday shopping with his father and uncle.” She added chuckling.

“Oh, don’t worry he’s fine, honey. Cole texted me earlier saying he’s going to get some holiday shopping done.”

“You really believe that?”

Jeremy’s bright smile lessened slightly after the realization hit him on what Cole was actually going to do. But honestly he couldn’t help but lightly laugh at the thought, he shouldn’t be too surprised at this point. High chance that Liane, Cole, Nikolai were going to spoil themselves a bit, by buying stuff they probably wouldn’t need.

Especially since Cole was in his spoiling era in his life when it comes to his daughter, most of all. But most importantly, spoiling his fabulous self too.

After a short beat Jeremy replied, “Let’s just hope they don’t buy the whole store.”

“Fingers crossed.” Mia added.

——

———

I hope you like it. Feel free to keep the POV going what happened at the mall or something hehe 😉

~ Tags: @ask-starrk @missstrawbs2001 1 @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz z @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh h h @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @aidanxsophxoxo @meiramel l @trulysummersprivate

[buttercup-fluffalove]

note from the buttermom: thank you thank you thank you to everyone who posted comments sending good wishes to buttercup. here's an update on everyone's favorite floofy baby:

on wednesday buttercup seemed a little aloof, hanging out on her favorite chair instead of stalking me like she always does. i was concerned but chalked it up to the fact that i was running around like a crazy person prepping for thanksgiving and wasn't giving her the attention she needed.

then on thursday she was way off. way way off. very lethargic, slinking away when i tried to pet her, drool staining her mouth and discharge around her nose, and her breath was even worse than kitty breath should be. my panic was mounting all day long as i fought not to google her symptoms (because i default to impending-doom-mode). by evening i was beside myself with worry but also worried i was overreacting; finally my husband practically shoved me out the door to take her to the emergency vet, if only so i wouldn't keep him up all night worrying.

initially the vet thought she just had an upper respiratory infection, based on her nasal discharge, drool, and lethargy. however upon her exam they noted the bad breath and that her belly was extremely sensitive - she did her big girl 'leave me alone' growl the moment they touched her. those are both tell-tale signs of an intestinal blockage so they took her back for imaging.

which i could hear her not enjoying from the waiting room. they ultimately had to sedate her to get a proper image and exam done. i got to snuggle her while the drugs kicked in though so that was nice.

when she was calm enough they were able to get some imaging and discovered what they call a "linear foreign body" - eg she had swallowed some string or yarn. (there was also some still stuck in her mouth, wrapped around and under her tongue.) this is exceptionally dangerous because one end can get snagged in the digestive track while the rest of it continues to get pushed through, resulting in the small intestine essentially bunching itself up like a tube sock, and then it can start to shred. when that happens, the only way to repair it is to remove the damaged sections of intestine.

if i hadn't brought her in, she would have died.

she needed surgery immediately.

they gave me a few moments alone with her, during which i sobbed uncontrollably and told how much i love her and that she needed to be brave and strong and come home to me.

then they took her back and sent me home, where i continued to cry and clean up every last inch of the lower level of the house of anything that could possibly be string or string-adjacent. (today i tackle the upper level.)

finally around 4 am they called me with the best possible version of this horrible situation: the string had only gotten as far as her stomach. they were able to remove it from her stomach, esophagus, and mouth, and there was no sign that it had moved into her small intestine so they didn't have to do any further cutting. there may be small remnants passing through, and her pancreas is inflamed which is rather concerning, so she needs to be monitored for a while still.

they'll be keeping her for at least the rest of today (friday), maybe tomorrow too. they need to make sure she's eating again (i'm pretty sure she hadn't eaten in almost 2 days), properly hydrated, and using the litterbox - all of which are signs that her intestines haven't been damaged and are working properly.

i may get a chance to visit her this afternoon, and will post further updates as i know more.

i am so grateful to the staff at the emergency vet hospital - and even more grateful that they were open last night on the holiday, given that every other vet clinic in 100 miles was closed. they were so kind to me as i broke down crying in the office, and were completely in love with buttercup at first sight (who isn't?) and ready to do anything and everything to save her life.

the house is painfully quiet and empty without the magnificent butterbeast prowling the halls. cross your fingers and toe-beans that she'll be able to come home soon and have a speedy recovery, with lots of good drugs to keep her calm and pain-free as she heals. she'll have to wear the angry lamp for a while, but she's going to be okay.

[theoddcatlady]

The Age of Enlightenment

My dad wasn’t great at being a dad.

I’m not saying he was Satan incarnate, he just had a bad temper is all. There was five of us kids, and after mom passed he was stuck raising us on his own, so he had to run a tight ship. Otherwise we would be nothing but lazy troublemakers.  

I was the second oldest, my sister Naomi was the oldest, and then there was Abby, Caroline, and Lil’ Liam. The moment Naomi was in highschool she was in charge of keeping house and making sure we were all good by the time dad got home.  

She was super bossy about it, but she just didn’t want to see Dad mad. And he was pretty scary when he was mad- threw things against the walls, screamed how we were all selfish brats who didn’t respect him, sometimes we got whacked but it was mostly just the yelling. Naomi was pretty grateful when I entered highschool- meant she wasn’t the only one who had to be bossy.

We did our best, you know- we cleaned the house, we did the laundry, everyone did their homework and by the time dad walked through the door dinner better be done or close to done and the table set.  

Like I said, we did our best. We didn’t always succeed, cuz the kids got cranky or didn’t want to clean or would hide their homework from us. Couldn’t hide homework from dad though. He could just about smell it.  

It was Thanksgiving vacation when they showed up on our door.  

We did good that day, Dad didn’t even look mad when we sat down for dinner. And then the doorbell rang.  

You could see the vein pop out of his forehead from across the table. I nearly sunk into the floor, we’d done so well that day and someone had to interrupt dad’s dinner. Not much made him more ticked than that.  

Initially he ignored it, grumbling something about salesmen, but we were all on edge. Caroline was pushing her peas around her plate instead of eating them and Liam was sucking on his thumb, at four he was too old for that but it was a nervous habit we’d yet to break out of him. I silently prayed for the people at the door to get the hint and leave.

Another ding-dong later and I knew we weren’t that lucky.

Dad shoved his plate away and stomped to the door while cussing up a storm. Naomi groaned and buried her face in her palms. All our hard work was now ruined by some jerks interrupting dinner.  

Since we were already screwed, I figured it couldn’t get any worse by sneaking after Dad and peering out of the wall to see who was at the door.  

My dad pulled the door open and barked an angry ‘WHAT?!’ at the people outside.  

They weren’t neighbors, obviously, most knew better than to come over to our house but I also could tell they weren’t salesmen. It was a pair, a man and a woman. The woman had curly brown hair and a wide smile, the man was prematurely balding and was more somber. The woman offered her hand to my dad, completely missing the fact he looked ready to blow his top. “Hi, I’m Ann, this is my husband Kennen. We’re here from the church down the ways. May we come in?” 

I swore Dad’s face went redder than a tomato, before he proceeded to literally laugh in their faces. “Get the hell off my porch, I’m not buying any of your damn books or going to any damn meetings.” He proceeded to slam the door in their faces… or would’ve, had Kennan not stuck his foot in the door.  

The door bounced back open and Kennan managed to mostly disguise his grimace with a cough. Ann was still smiling, offering forward a pamphlet. “I understand you’re likely a busy man, sir, but no one doesn’t have time for the truth. What time will you be available for a chat?”  

My dad snatched the pamphlet, crumpled it up and threw it in the garbage right next to the door. “Never. I work a full time job and have five brats to parent on my own,” He snarled.  

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, but if you’re looking for support, the church offers daycare and there’s counseling services for those who need a little help from their day to day-”

My dad slammed the door again, this time Kennan didn’t attempt to stop it. I skittered back to the dining room to avoid being caught away from the dinner table, but it didn’t matter. Dad stormed back in, screamed at Caroline for playing with her food, and told us all to get to our rooms, right now. I’d not had more than a bite of meat loaf but it didn’t matter- no one deserved dinner right now.

The thing is with a strict parent, you learn how to get around them. Even if the price was a heavy one to pay, I knew how to sneak around my dad to snitch something to eat. I couldn’t sleep with my stomach growling like it was.  

After gorging myself on cold, greasy meatloaf that was still on the table, I headed back to my room only to pause at the trash can.  

I almost went back up to my room, knowing if my dad happened to realize I snitched the pamphlet from the trash I’d be in for a beating and a grounding. But my curiosity outweighed my fear and I carefully lifted the crumpled up paper from the trash before hurrying to my room, careful not to step on any squeaky floorboards. I’d learned where each one was over my years of sneaking around.

Before you make an assumption, this wasn’t from the Jehovah’s Witnesses. Or really any other church I’d ever heard about before.  

These people were from The Enlightened. The pamphlet was nothing special, white paper with black print and a cartoony picture of a lamp on the front, probably some sort of clip art or whatever. But the words inside… they did something for me. I still have the first sentences memorized… ‘The age of enlightenment is upon us. The reason behind everything exists with us.’  

I poured over the few pages for days, hiding the pamphlet in my pillow so I could read it every night before bed. They said everything I wanted to hear- how we’re all here to help each other out, how life should be about loving and respecting others… it was truly enlightening.  

I wished so hard that Ann and Kennen would come back, I had so many questions I wanted to ask them. I was still a bit skeptical, back then, but just after we got home from school there was that knock at the door. I answered and there they were. Kennen now had a crutch, apparently Dad broke his foot, but there was no hard feelings.

“I read the pamphlet,” I blurted out before they could say a thing. Ann blinked a few times before she grinned ear to ear.

“I hoped someone would,” She said, taking my hand in hers and squeezing tightly, “Can we come in? Just for a few minutes.”  

I invited them in, poured them lemonade, and we talked. They explained everything.  

The Enlightened revered something called Beings. They weren’t to be worshiped, only respected and asked of for guidance. The Beings were here when we first arrived, after we swum through the stars as fish. Hell was in fact located in the sun, or well, a portal to hell was. We were lucky to have made it and were not distracted by the warmth.  

The being that Kennen and Ann revered the most was called Riesis, and Riesis asked them to come to my house. They knew someone would be interested in hearing them speak. And although yeah, back then the Being stuff seemed silly, Kennan and Ann were nice. We all liked them, even Naomi, who was even more unimpressed by the Beings than I was. Liam was practically curled up in Ann’s lap by the time Dad came home.

Not a single chore was done, homework hadn’t been touched, and Naomi had completely forgot about starting dinner when the door banged open. That meant Dad’s day at work was lousy so we better have done everything that needed to be done. Which. We hadn’t.

When he saw Ann and Kennen in our living room, his face went from white to red to purple so quickly I thought he had a stroke.  

“What the hell are they doing in our house?” His rage immediately turned on Naomi, who began to shake.

I couldn’t let her take the blame, not this time, so I stood up and told the truth. “I invited them in, Dad, they’re nice-”

I couldn’t tell him all I knew now, how I had become enlightened. Before I could, he backhanded me so hard I think a tooth almost went loose.  

“Are you stupid?!” Spittle flew from his enraged lips as he pointed at the couple. “These nutjobs aren’t even from a real church!”

For the first time, I saw Ann look mildly peeved. Her lips pressed together in a firm line as she stood. “At first I thought you were just jaded, but now I see you’re just as close minded as most of the world. The enlightenment is coming, sir, whether you want it or not.”

“Go back to your fish stories, you crazy bitch,” My dad sneered, “And get out of my house before I call the cops and tell ‘em you and your husband were doing some freaky shit with my children.”

My face went red at the implication and Ann sputtered angrily before taking a deep breath and the smile returning to her face, a smile that didn’t come close to seeming happy. “Fine. Good day, sir,” She walked to the door, her husband limping right behind him.  

After they were out of the house I got the worst beating of my life. My dad made me give him back the pamphlet and he shredded it into itty bitty pieces. I’d never be able to read it again. I couldn’t even lay on my back in bed that night because of how sore I was. My siblings were threatened with worse if anyone brought up The Enlightened ever again.

I fell asleep crying because I’d never be able to feel that happiness I felt with Ann again.

In the middle of the night I woke up to someone collapsing against my door. It scared the hell out of me, I nearly fell out of bed.

I heard a gurgle and against my better judgment, I walked up to the door and opened it.

There was my dad, slumped up on the ground, his front all soaked with blood pouring from a jagged wound in his throat. Naomi was standing right behind him, holding a steak knife so tightly in her red stained hand it was shaking.

I stared blankly at my dying father, who reached up to me in a silent gesture for help. I looked at my sister. A few specks of blood were drying on her bone white cheeks. I held out my hand. “Sis, give me the knife,” I said.

I didn’t need to ask twice, she gave it up so easily. I looked at my dad, who looked so damn relieved… until I raised the knife and jabbed it right into his chest so hard the blade snapped off the handle.  

My dad managed a final gasp before he slumped down dead. I looked up at Naomi, who sniffled and wiped the tears off her cheeks. “He… he came to me in my dream. Riesis. He told me… that this is what I needed to do so we could all join the Enlightened.” For the first time I can remember, she smiled. My big sister was always so serious, so grumpy and bossy. Now she finally looked free.

“Go call the cops and get cleaned up. Don’t worry, I’ll wipe off the knife so your prints aren’t on it. Go.”  

My sister took all the blame. Said she was done with my dad’s bullshit and finally snapped. I think it helped that everyone in the community knew that my dad was a dick and she was only sixteen. She’ll be out of prison in about seven more years, we’re planning on throwing a big party when she’s out.

Helped that Kennan was a great lawyer too. Turns out despite rarely saying a word out of the courtroom once he was in it he was a master of words. He represented Naomi pro bono, not a dime was spent on his defense and we owe him forever for it. And to add to this happily ever after, we got adopted by Kennan and Ann.  

Riesis told them they were meant to be our parents, it turns out. Ann couldn’t have kids, but he came to their dreams and told them to go to my house, and return when our dad wasn’t home. Originally the plan was to convince us to come along before he got home, but this way still worked. Ann’s a near perfect mom.  

I’m now eighteen myself. Much better off than I would’ve been if my dad was still alive. Tonight I’ll devote myself to service of Riesis.  

In return he will teach me how to whisper into people’s ears as they sleep, to tell people what he bids. I’ll be his voice now, along with Kennan and Ann.  

[puppyexpressions]

7 Surprising Autumn Dangers for Dogs

The dog days of summer will soon be behind us and cooler weather will soon be moving in. The leaves are starting to change, sweaters are being pulled out of storage, and our dogs are more eager than ever to get outside and play!

1. Shorter Days and Longer Nights!

In the shorter days and longer nights of autumn, it’s not uncommon for many dogs to get their daily walks after the sun’s already set. Though relaxing, nighttime walks introduce a whole set of dangers not present in the daylight. With reduced visibility, it’s more important than ever to be diligent in monitoring your dog closely to be sure he hasn’t found a potentially dangerous “roadside snack” to nibble on. Stay safe at night by carrying a flashlight along during walks.

It’s also important that your dog be visible to other people, animals, and oncoming cars when outside after dark. Consider using a reflective collar, an LED collar light, or a safety vest whenever you’re outdoors at night. 

2. There’s a Fungus Among Us!

This time of year, fallen leaves piled beneath trees or raked into cool, damp piles create the perfect environment for wild mushrooms to grow. While not all species of the fungi are toxic, it’s very difficult to identify and distinguish those that are. As a rule of thumb, keep your dogs away from any and all wildly growing mushrooms.

3. Fleas Reach Their Peak in the Fall!

Many pet parents mistakenly believe that fleas begin to die off as cooler weather approaches. Truth is, fall is actually the peak season for fleas! Only sustained cold (temperatures consistently reaching in the 30’s or lower) will kill off fleas. Because dog owners tend to back off or reduce their flea prevention this time of year while at the same time spending more time outdoors, flea infestations (and the itchy skin and allergies they bring with them) are more common in the fall than in the spring or summer.

Don’t forget to continue using a flea preventative throughout the fall season to keep these bloodsucking pests at bay.

4. Sweater Weather Means Mothballs!

Because even a single mothball can be deadly, pet parents may want to consider alternatives to keep moths away, cedar balls, chips, or blocks can be used in place of mothballs in drawers, or a simple sachet of lavender not only smells lovely, but repels the fiber-snacking pests naturally.

5. Keep Away From Antifreeze!

It only takes a few innocent licks of that sweet smelling goo on the neighbor’s driveway to kill a small to medium sized dog. Be very, very careful when walking your dog to be certain he stays well out of reach of antifreeze. And, prevent him from drinking from puddles or streams where antifreeze may have runoff.

6. A Cornucopia of Dangerous Fall Foods!

Steer clear of grapes and raisins which contain an unknown toxin that can lead to kidney failure. Avoid high-fat foods, like turkey skin and dark meat, ham, and gravy, which can lead to a painful and lifelong condition known as pancreatitis.

The day after Thanksgiving is the busiest day of the year for veterinarians diagnosing pancreatitis in dogs.  Though some nuts are safe, it’s best to avoid them all in favor of foods more species appropriate for your dog. Though it can be hard to resist those puppy dog eyes begging for a bite of your holiday meal, do your dog a favor and offer them a special dog-safe treat instead. 

7. Ragweed, Pollen, and Mold – Oh My!

Regular baths with a gentle dog shampoo can both rinse away allergens and soothe itchy skin. Keeping paws clean, either by wiping them every time your dog comes inside or with a paw washing station at the backdoor, can prevent allergens from being tracked around the house and onto bedding.

Now that you know what to watch for and are prepared for these surprising autumn dangers, you’re ready to enjoy the beautiful weather with your dog by your side!

[kimsmingyu]

hi Ali! your secret santa here!

i hope this week flies by so you can enjoy the thanksgiving celebrations. and i’m excited to know you get to decorate your work space for christmas! i’ve never worked in an office but i like when ppl decorate depending on holidays… some ppl get really creative.

i don’t have many traditions for christmas, just having dinner and sometimes going out to the celebrations that happen around town. i get days off at work so i mainly use that time to relax or to deep clean the house.

i absolutely adore Mingyu! he’s so sweet, smart and attentive. i also think that many ppl only like him bc of his looks but he’s the full package. you mentioned his zodiac sign… is that something you’re interested in?

and you probably wouldn’t know who i am based on my bias but i prefer to not say it just in case. i was gonna give you a hint and be like “he adores Mingyu as well” but don’t we all?

i’d love to know your top 5 seventeen songs, just to get a vibe of your style :)

ps. i love that you’re talkative bc i am too!

love, secret santa x

thank you!!! i went a little crazy buying decorations this year since last year i shared a small office space with two other people. i had just started so they gave me the smallest space so i had no room for creativity. there's a contest at work so a lot of my coworkers are having themes and creating / building things, but i'm lazy so i don't want to do all that plus i don't want to be in a contest omg.

that's so nice that you get time off of work!! i get to leave work early on christmas eve and then have christmas day off but when i used to be a bank teller, it was hard to get time off around there because the managers usually picked it first so it's nice that you get time off! sometimes there's so much more to do after the holidays, but it also can be tiring!

tbh i'm an aries and once i realized i was an aries to my core, i kind of became obsessed so i thought it was really neat to find out that a celebrity i was taking a huge liking toward is an aries. but i also find it funny because he does remind me of an aries, but not at the same time so that was another thing i found interesting. and he is the total package! usually when i stan a group, my first favorite never stays my first favorite and i think he's the only one in my group stanning existing that he's stayed # 1

i totally understand that and adoring mingyu is a good hint because i would have to go down the list of 12 other members and i'll be embarrassed to say a guess... but i'll keep it to myself rn and see if i'm right after omg

ooh my top 5 svt songs would probably be fallin' flower (japanese version), 24H, heaven's cloud, crazy in love, and fear... i have to add ready to love and make it 6... this was actually a lot harder than i thought and i kept changing it around... i also didn't want to include any unit faves

i appreciate you liking that i'm talkative and that you're talkative too because i got so much to say and half of it is nonsense omg

[nickgerlich]

What's Cooking?

I grew up in what could be called a very traditional family. Keep in mind, of course, I was born in 1959, the latter half of the Baby Boom, and in Chicago. It may have been a toddling town, as Sinatra once sang, but it was also the Midwest, where home and hearth ruled supreme.

Dad went to work. Mom maintained the house, which included what we would call drudgery jobs: cleaning, cooking, and making sure my brother and I didn’t kill each other. Dad mowed the grass, changed the oil, and even finished out the full basement into a massive family room that effectively doubled our living space. Mom mended torn jeans and socks, did the laundry, and hung it out to dry. Well, in the summer, that is. Too cold in winter.

But never did their paths cross, their gender roles or expectations intersect. Theirs were very separate domains, prescribed by the culture in which they found themselves. Unwritten though the rules may have been, everyone knew their place.

Oh, and before we continue I must point out the difference between “sex” and “gender.” The former refers to your hardware, while the latter refers to your sexual identity, meaning do you identify as male or female. The vast majority of people have the same sex and gender, but as we now know, some do not. A 2023 Gallup poll showed that 7.6% of Americans identify as LGBTQ, meaning some variation from that statistical majority. I digress.

Of course, skipping forward many decades, much of that has changed, although there is still a long way to go toward a complete blurring of gender role expectations, much less gender equality. But that’s a topic for another blog. Today we’re focusing on those roles, and how one company specifically—Wesson Oil—is challenging those gender roles in its Thanksgiving ad campaign. The ads encourage men to assume the role of family chef.

At this point you might be thinking: So what’s the big deal? Aren’t some of the world’s most famous chefs men? Much could be said of food critics, my favorite of which was the late world traveler Anthony Bourdain.

Well, turns out we have different rules inside and outside the house. Inside the house, women do these tasks, but in either commercial settings, as well as backyard grilling, men take the helm. And while we have witnessed much blurring and blending of roles during my life, a Gallup study noted that the cooking gender gap actually increased in 2022. Wesson hopes to help turn that around.

I will be the first to admit that men have had it pretty darn good when it comes to domestic duties. We get to watch football while the females slave away in the kitchen. Only if there is the ever-represent danger of fire—meaning the backyard grill—do we step up to the plate. For some reason I have mental images of brawny men returning from the hunt, digging a massive hole, and starting an open fire over which their bounty would be cooked for the whole community.

That study showed that women cook 8.7 meals per week at home, and men only cook 4.0 meals, more than a 2:1 ratio. To address this disparity, Wesson’s ads seek to reverse these things, showing a man cooking pancakes while his wife gets ready for work. Another ad shows Mom being relaxed during a holiday meal because she actually had some help in the kitchen.

The end game for Wesson is trying to broaden their customer base by inviting men into the kitchen, and I say Amen. I am not sure how all of these gender roles arose, but when it comes to cooking, laundry, cleaning, and all the things, these are just basic survival skills. To play the gender card as if it gets you out of doing certain duties assumes you are better, and may in fact be a thinly veiled misogyny. Try living alone, dude. None of those things will get done unless you do them yourself, or pay someone to do it for you.

To be fair, that knife cuts both ways, meaning that women shouldn’t expect a hall pass to get out of mowing the lawn, basic home repairs, or changing the oil. But if your dyad observes a labor specialization policy, meaning you do what you’re good at, and I’ll do what I’m good at, then that’s fine, too. It may turn out like my first marriage, in which my then-wife was really good at woodworking and those kinds of things. I said, “You go, girl.” I’ll do something else. Hand me an apron, please.

On one hand it is a little bit sad that Wesson even has to bring this up, but at the same time, it is refreshing to see a company tackling stereotypes head-on. If cooking is your jam, then do it, but we shouldn’t have to do a gender check before you get started.

Dr “Oil And Water” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[hiddenavenues]

I think I have to continue this thought in a little one shot cuz I cannot stop thinking abt you and Lumberjack!Logan getting ready to host, both of you stressing out about cleaning and food for your friends/family that’s coming. This is his first thanksgiving with people that he genuinely wants, no, needs to have like him.

Logan makes your home spotless. You’re up at the crack of dawn cleaning the house top to bottom? He’s helping too and making the food while he makes you take a nap or soak in the tub. He refuses to have you be worn out and exhausted. He’s put together a list of all the friends/family youve invited and has been secretly memorizing their names, what they do for work, anything that will ensure they like him, ensure they approve of the man you’ve chosen.

I’m imagining Lumberjack!Logan, who apprehensively goes up to his work pals and invites them over for Thanksgiving, begringidly handing over invites to your home. He wasn’t the biggest fan of it, preferring to keep his coworker's interactions with you to a minimum, but there are a few you convinced him to invite. No one should go lonely on thanksgiving. He would've been more adament about it had your face not lit up when he agreed.

P.s. Happy Thanksgiving again to all my Canadians out there, join me in my Logan brainrot :))

Physically at thanksgiving dinner but mentally? Thinking abt Logan helping to prep food, obsessing over how well the turkey is cooked and perfecting his stuffing. Dancing with you while you wait for the oven to preheat and excited to feast on the meal you’ve made together. The amount of love in your home<333

[letterstomyfri3nds]

I miss you, more than words could say.

If you had a grave, it would be a place of pilgrimage for me.

I'm so embarrassed at where I am in my life right now.

Handwashing clothes because I don't have a washer or dryer and my car needs more work than I can afford while my new manager is slashing my shifts. I only have one work shirt and one pair of jeans that I can wear to work, so I have to wash them constantly.

I'm going to have to stay the night at my (freaking amazing) friend's house who invited me over for Thanksgiving just so I can cash my paycheck, get to work and make a late payment the next morning before my car gets repossessed.

It's humiliating struggling constantly. I wake up every morning crying and feeling like a complete loser while simultaneously trying everything I can come up with to get by.

Everyone I know lives with their parents, a partner, multiple roommates and I'm just here, slipping further and further by myself. I've searched for a roommate for years. I'm sure it's my personality that makes people dislike the idea. I've offered to pay most of the rent and bills, solely cook, clean, etc.

I've lost so many people since my eviction last year who stood by and watched me struggle, who shamed me for their assumption that other people help pay my bills and rent each month, who refused to come next door to watch my daughter for 20 minutes while I took things across the street to a storage unit because they had a work party to get ready for.

I wish you were still here, even though I'm wishing it for selfish reasons. You would have had no problem keeping me company on the phone while I'm doing laundry by hand. You'd remind me that I'm a damn good mom for doing whatever I have to. I'll miss you forever, big brother 💔🙏 keep watch over all of us

[bibookmerm]

content notes: long post, personal life, strained family relationships, bad choices?? (neglecting self care, seeing people that are bad for me), thanksgiving, but positive stuff at the end.

Life update!

I've been ill all month, still not recovered because I am working despite my illness. (first of the "bad choices"). So, that's fun. I tried to chill and drink tea today. I've had a week off because my workplaces are closed on thanksgiving day, I get 1 designated weekend off which was last weekend, second job slashed hours, and it just lined up that way. At least for this little break, I've done pretty good with the house cleaning goals I set, but not overdoing it. That's something!

THE HEAVY STUFF:

I am trying to emotionally prepare myself for thanksgiving day. Going to visit the extended family. Every time I see my family, I feel stressed, sad, and hurt. I'm really on edge the whole time, then I come home exhausted and I fall apart. Or go numb. So seeing them is the second of the "bad choices." But this year, my wife and I are driving ourselves, so we can leave when we want to. Yay agency!

I'd really like to find a way forward navigating family pressures and obligations and all of my feelings on it with a professional. I liked my past therapist a lot, but I thought her advice about family was...incomplete, and didn't quite fit my situation. I'm hoping to feel comfortable plainly saying when I'd like to look at other options or from a new angle, with my next therapist. But for now, I am going to "celebrate" the holiday I loathe with the people who do not understand me, again. I'm going to try to be kind to myself throughout the day and afterward, even though going at all is not very kind to myself. My friend said his house is open for people to hang out on thursday, so I think going there instead of straight home will cheer me up.

Idk, I posted about my cousin's wedding back in July, and being the only queer there without my wife and no one to even acknowledge how hard it was on me, how disconnected I felt, was part of what made it suck so bad. I am going to reach out to folks this time instead of keeping it in.

So yeah, this time of year is rough. I generally feel I have to trudge through a bunch of stuff I hate when all I want to do is curl up and hibernate until February. I am at least Making Good Choices in small ways. Hydrating, eating, folding the laundry, going for walks, reaching out to friends. Listening to sad music but not ONLY listening to sad music and shutting the world out. It's a process! I think I am staying more, um, recovery minded than backsliding? Overall. Mental health wise. I'm really trying!

Also, this is very obvious but when transphobia gets you down, listening to music by trans artists helps 1000%. It's so healing. I'm gonna have my playlist at the ready.

THE BRIGHT SIDE:

I have some creative project ideas cooking. Still working on that one story I mentioned a while back! The multiverse one. I'm learning more about the inciting incident in the story and I like how it's developing.

I also made some preliminary sketches tonight for a zine I want to make. Just a cute little fan zine. I have a lot of zine making pals but this will be my first one!

Also! Today I just heard back about the date for session 0 for a TTRPG with cool new friends. I can't wait to try roleplaying again. I'm gonna look into the mechanics of the system before then so I don't feel lost and I can focus on having fun.

Also, after all the thanksgiving day nonsense...on Saturday, I get to see my amazing friend who is visiting from the other side of the country. They're having a party which I'm sure will be amazing. And next tuesday my friends and I are going to the movies. So. thursday is one crummy day, I will survive it, and there is the warmth of friendship on the other side. I got this. Have a great evening, y'all.

[acandheatrepairs]

Crank Up the Fun, Not Your AC Bill: A Sizzling Guide to Smart Cooling This Summer!

Hey there, cool cats and sun-loving SoCal residents! Ever wondered what goes on inside that box in your home that magically makes cold days feel like a beach party? Yup, I’m talking about the furnace, the unsung hero of winter months. Today, let’s chat about electric furnaces, the modern marvels that keep you cozy without breaking the bank. When you’re ready to get one, be sure to call us at air conditioning repair north hollywood, where we make furnace installation feel like a breeze.

Here are some reasons to consider us for your commercial refrigeration installation repair needs:

Expertise: Our technicians are certified and trained specifically in commercial refrigeration repair.

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24/7 Availability: Understanding that emergencies don’t abide by regular business hours, we offer around-the-clock repair services.

Why is My AC as Tireless as a Night Owl?

If your AC has transformed into a ceaseless breeze-generator but your home still feels like a sauna, Houston, we have a problem! Let’s break down the mystery into four funky categories:

Your AC is a Lightweight: If your AC is huffing and puffing but failing to blow your house down (read: cool it), then it’s probably too small for your space. To avoid the fiasco of an undersized AC, rely on professional load calculations that factor in more than just your home’s square footage. Don’t let your AC be a lightweight, get a air conditioning repair california-

Your AC is a Couch Potato: Like us after a Thanksgiving feast, your AC also needs a little TLC to keep up its performance. Make sure to replace those air filters more often than you remember your grandma’s birthday! A clean filter is the elixir of life for your AC. If your AC’s out of shape, consider some ac repair in sherman oaks.

Your AC’s Got an Obstacle Course: Blocked ducts, failing blower units, or dirty air filters can put hurdles in the airflow path. If your AC is running an obstacle course rather than efficiently cooling your home, it’s time to clear the track.

Your AC’s Got No Shields: An AC fighting the harsh summer without proper insulation is like a knight battling dragons without armor. If your home’s insulation is thinner than a paper plate, your AC’s going to struggle.

Filter out the Myths and Bring in the Air!

Did you know that the state of your air filters could be playing hide and seek with up to 15% of your energy? According to the U.S. Department of Energy, a dirty filter can hog that much! So get proactive and change those filters like you would your beach outfits! How often? Well, it depends on the size of your crib, if you’ve got pets, and the type of filters you use. Keep it clean and your ac condenser maintenance will return the love!