#in regards to that last one there are mats on the floor i'm not getting slammed into like. concrete

[keymintt]

life doodles

[4fifiandtheflowertots4]

The House of the Dutch

PART 1

“My client wants to request one last meeting before the signing of her contract regarding her living arrangements.”

“We've been thinking about that and think we've found a property with a couple other Dutch girls. A meeting can be arranged to confirm the placement.”

The suitcase in your hand feels weighed down by a thousand bricks, and you adjust it to the other hand. You're waiting for a sign to urge you to knock, letting the cold air whip around your shoulders as you build up the courage. It's cold here, not as cold as home you think, but cold enough that you wished you hadn't packed your bigger coat and worn it instead. A final gust of wind pushed you to wrap your knuckles against the door, another shiver shaking your spine. The first thing you hear is a bark, then a strangled meow and a yell in Dutch directed to another person, who yells back. “Viv! Your bloody dog! Tell it to leave kiwi alone or I'm going to banish it from the living room.”

“If your cat wasn't quite so annoying maybe it wouldn't get bitten!”

You hold back a giggle, shivering again as the door opens to a warm face. “Welcome to the madhouse.” the woman greets, gesturing to the floor mat saying the same thing as she had. She then holds her hand out to you. You take it. It's soft, but the knuckles are cracked from the cold. “I'm Dominique - Domi.” Behind her, the squabbling continues and she pauses to take a look and hiss at them in warning, then gesturing to you standing in the doorway. You wave awkwardly, and the younger-looking one bounds over and takes your hand, kissing it like a love-sick teenager. It makes you blush. That's embarrassing, you think.

“Pleasure to meet you, I'm Kerstin - and the grumpy one is Viv.” She turns and sticks her tongue out at the grumpy one. In your head, you count them out. Viv, Kerstin, Dom. Didn't your manager say there would be 4 others? A new face appears at the top of the stairs just behind Dom. The lighting shadows her face perfectly while still highlighting the beautiful cheekbones and jawline of her cheeks. You didn't realise in your staring that she'd made it over to you, holding out her hand ready for you to shake. Kerstin clicks her fingers subtly behind her back, snapping you out from your trance. You blush again and take the 4th girl's hand. “Jill.” She says, and you think her eyes are the most beautiful thing you have seen in the whole wide world. Then you think back to the younger girl standing next to her. You rethink.

All four of them are staring at you, assessing what they thinkuntil you shivering snaps Viv put of the trance. “God! You must be freezing! Come on in. Do you have more stuff in the car?” Overwhelmed by her sudden warmth, you nod a bit blindly and allow Dominique to pull you into the warmth of their house.

You decide instantly your going to like it here, the bright white walls, navy bluepanelling on one of them, bookshelves and sofa and tv and beanbag and games console and armchair and.. 1 2 3 4 seats. Altogether, with the beanbag and sofa and armchair, there are only 4 seats. You look around blindly, you couldn't expect them to buy another seat just for you but you did wonder a little bit where you were to sit. Not everybody will be in the room at once, you presume. Kerstin has walked over and wraps a strong arm over your shoulders. “Staring at our Jilly already? Don't worry, we've all been there.” She grins at you and you blush. “We ordered a new chair for the living room for you, when it got here it was broken already and wasn't fit enough for a princess like yourself. I suppose you'll have to just sit on my lap until we get a new one.” Your blush darkens at her teasing and kerstin winks.

“You have a very pretty house.” You manage, and she laughs again.

“I suppose it’s perfect for- uh- ow! Domi!” Theres a small crash as a pillow gets chucked at her head. You laugh a little at Dominique, who behind her is still imitating what she said. “Leave the poor girl alone, not everybody wants the attention.” Kerstin rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but she does. Look! She's blushing.” You pull the hood of your hoodie onto your head in an attempt to hid the red on your cheeks. Kerstin’s attention turns back to you. “awh, you don't have to hide it, sweetheart. It's cute.” She pulls down your hood and it's then you hear a life saving noise. “Bedrooms done!”

You take that as your escape plan, and squeeze between Dom and Kerstin towards the stairs in the corner of the room. Viv and Jill are both in there, squabbling about how to make the bed and where to place your stuff, however it stops when you walk in. They both send you blinding smiles and pat out the last lumps on the bed. Jill pushes you down onto the bed and nods at the bounce on it. “Is it comfortable?” She asks and you roll about a bit.

Before you can reply though, Viv buts in. “it's the same bed as we've all got, you know whether it's comfortable or not dingwat.” Viv then pulls you up. “How are you liking the house?”

“It's beautiful. There's been a lot of love put into it.” Viv grins at you and you think you're about to melt.

“That would be me. These lot are useless!” There's a cry of outrage from various parts of the house that makes you laugh. “I hope you'll feel very welcome here.” A hand reaches out and squeezes your arm. You kick yourself at the buzz of the butterflies in your stomach. “Right. Me and Jill will leave you alone to settle in. We normally have dinner at about half 6, if you want to come down and help prepare it later.”

Nodding, you allow yourself to wave them out. You collapse on the bed again and reach for your phone in your back pocket and finding the first favourited contact. “Ah! My little girl! How is life away from the nest, my darling?”

“it's good, thank you Mama. The girls are lovely - I just have to meet the rest of the team in a couple days.” Another face leaps into show, not surprised to see your best friend still at your childhood home despite you not being there.

“How's operation ‘fruit salad’ going? Are all the girls as hot as we thought?” You think back to the conversation you had before you left regarding which one of your new housemates you could end dating after she accuses you of being boring.

You laugh at your stupidity. “Yes, they're all as hot as we thought. There's no way girls like that are single - or willing to go out with me.” Your best friend sticks her tongue out of you.

“Boo! You whore. You're hot stuff, you can pull who you want and they're lucky to have you.” You both laugh. “Who looks best do you think? I'm thinking Carmen.. wait.. was it Kerstin?”

You nod. “Kerstin.” There's a knock at your door and you look up, cursing your friends loud voice. “You called?” Kerstin pops her head around the door before pushing it open fully.

“Er. No. Kinda? I was talking to my friend back at home - she was asking questions about who I lived with now.” She comes and sits at the end of your bed and waves at the phone you turned around to face her. Your friend blushes and let's out a nervous laugh. “Anyway, I was already on my way up to ask if you wanted help with anything, or if you wanted to come down and have a chat with us for a bit, you know, get to know us all.” She smiles at you again and your face begins to copy that of your best friends.

“Oh.” Your social battery was quickly running low, and you were trying to recharge before you helped with dinner, so you go for the in-between. “I could do with a hand putting some stuff away? You can ask me any questions while I unpack, and then I'll talk to the other girls when I'm helping with dinner.” You turn back to your phone. “well I have to go and socialise with other people now. I'll message you later?”

“yeah, of course. Here, let me go get your mum before you hang up - she left when we started talking about your love life.” She wiggles her brows at you. Soon enough, your mum comes back into frame. “My little butterfly! Message me before you go to sleep and keep me updated. I must meet these new girls you live with! Spread your wings my darling, love you.”

“Love you too, Mama. Bye!”

You hang up the phone and toss it somewhere on the bed. Kerstin gives you a hand up off the bed and picks up the first bag left abandoned in the corner by either Viv or Jill. “So, we know you're Dutch, I mean, you're fluent so I assume you are. Where abouts did you grow up?”

“Good ol’ Amsterdam.” You smile and she nods slowly. “You're a city girl, cute.” She smiles. “I remember my first time visiting there. We went to this little cafe.. i think it was called ‘A Little Promise.’ The lady who ran it gave me extra whipped cream because I was wearing an Ajax shirt.” She pauses, noticing the look of sheer disbelief on your face. “What? Have you been?”

“You're joking.”

“What? No I'm not.”

“You are, you're taking the mick. You actually went there?” Kerstin looks confused. “Yeah? I remember it well - the lady had a butterfly tattoo on her finger. I saw it and told my mum I wanted one just like it.”

“You're genuinely not joking?”

“no?”

“That's where I grew up. That's my mums cafe. That's my Mama with the butterfly tattoo.”

Kerstin laughs in shock. “wait, actually?”

You reach out for your phone and turn it on so she could see the lockscreen, on it, a picture of the cafe and your mum and you. She bursts out laughing and you join in. “That's so strange!” She breathes out and looks at you through her eyelashes. “I was five at the time. So you would have been 4.” She pauses and thinks really carefully. You begin to open up the bag and pull out the clothes resting on top. “I saw a little girl there when I went. She was sat holding this patchwork bunny and colouring in a picture. My mum told me to wave at her but I thought she too pretty and I got scared.”

You pull out the next thing from your bag. A well-worn, well-loved patchwork bunny with a floppy head clasped in your hand. She turns to face you again and you both fall into another fit of giggles. “I guess some things never change.”

You both continue to put away your possessions, talking about your memories of your home town and your family while laughing about whatever it was slightly tickling your interest. Without even realising, Kerstin had recharged your social battery and welcomed you in the best of ways, pulling on your arm as you were called down to help with dinner. Jill cheered when you appeared in the kitchen, Dominique flashing you a bright smile over her Shoulder from her position over the stove.

“It's chicken and leek pasta bake for dinner.” She says, then she notices Kerstin stood next to you and points to the exit. “I thought I banned you from my kitchen after the last cooking mishap.”

Viv buts in from where she was cutting leeks in the corner. “Our kitchen.”

“Oh come on, Domi! Not fair. It was one time!” Kerstin argued and you look quizzically at Jill who sat on the counter and squeezed lemons into a jug. “Kerstin added the wrong salt to a dish. It ruined the food AND stuck all the chili to the side of the pan.”

“Not to mention I got ill!” Viv pipes up again and kerstin groans. “I promise I won't interfere. I'll just sit and watch.”

Dominique rolls her eyes but gestures as if to give in and let her stay. “One peep out of you and I'll force you to wash up all the pots from tonight and tomorrow's meal.” Kerstin zips her lips shut, then salutes at the older woman.

You join Jill on the counter and watch as the 4 girls work like a well-oiled machine.

Viv starts the conversation. “Do you have any siblings?”

You swing your legs. “Nope. It's always just been me and my mama.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” She apologises, and you frown.

“what? why?”

“Well you didn't mention your father. I assumed he wasn't in the picture anymore, or that he'd passed away.”

You laugh at her bluntness. “He's alive and - unfortunately - still in the picture. However he is the one who payed for all my football growing up so I suppose i should thank him for getting me here. He's always been a bit ‘too busy’ to see me. But it's okay, my mum has always taken good care of me.” She smiles at you from across the kitchen and hands the leeks over for Dominique to put into the pan of sauce.

“Anyone you left behind? Any lovers?” Jill asks from beside you, and you miss the way all 3 of the other girls begin to pay closer attention to your answer.

“Unless you count my platonic soul mate, then no just my mum and her.”

“The one who has a crush on me?” Kerstin wiggles her eyebrows, and Viv turns around and whips her with the towel she was using to take the pan warming in the oven out.

“Not everyone has a crush on you, Kerstin.” Dominique sings, not even bothering to turn around and look at the girl.

“Yeah, but, she does. I waved at her and she started blushing.”

“Ever thought that it could've been because the conversation we were having was embarrassing? Or about you? Maybe it's me who has a crush on you!” You widen your eyes to try and prove your point and hold in your laughter when she starts to consider it.

“Do you?” This time it comes from Jill.

“What?”

“Have a crush on her?” Dominique has stopped stirring the pot. Viv has stopped layering the pasta. Kerstin has stopped swinging her legs. Jill has stopped sipping her water.

“Well no. I just met her, that would be silly.” Then the well-oiled machine keeps moving.

The dish is put in the oven, and all five of you sit on the counters facing each other, talking to each other about random nonsense. Kerstin, who moved to sit in front of you, is kicking her legs into yours playfully like a grounding feature keeping your attention on the other girls.

Your phone rings against the table and you pull it out of your back pocket, a message from your mum lighting up the screen. “Sorry, it's my mum.” You say to Viv, who was cut off by the ring. “Oh, no problem.” She goes to start talking again when the egg timer on Dominique's lap begins to bing, signalling the end of the cooking period. Jill and Dominique leap off the counter, Jill to grab glasses and Domi to pull out the dish. You go to jump off yourself, but instead you find yourself stuck between the counter and a very attractive Dutch woman. “Sorry.” Jill apologises - still leaning over you to fill up the glasses with water from the sink behind you. A hand from the side pulls your shoulder until you fall to the side off the counter, Viv winking at you and then brushing her hands over her own cheeks. She mimes “You're blushing,” Then grabs a glass from Jill, who hands you one too and, like Viv, sends you a wink.

Dominique rolls her eyes when she realises what happened. “God, they're all as bad as teenage boys. Don't worry, they'll get bored and stop soon enough.” You don't know whether you look forward to that or not. “Until then, live up to it. Flirt back. Say things to knock them off their pedestals.” She grins.

A/N: There we go, chapter 1! Any feedback is appreciated <33

[bisayawa]

the caretaker's side ; alejandro vargas/fem! reader

― sickfic, hurt/comfort, fluff, tiniest bit of angst

― reader is fem, regarded as sampaguita (a fragrant flower native to tropical asia), she/her pronouns used

warning: icky sickness stuff, vomiting, coughing, pills, capsules, crying.

note: i don't think this is anything, just recalling what i've experienced when skipping meals (gastritis? i think it's called? i try to explain it somewhat here.) reader & al are in a situationship of some kind. idk i didn't think this through. not proofread.

"good to see you back, alejandro!"

the afternoon was noisy with chatter & song. his cousins were frantic to meet with him once they arrived, shouting praise & honor with each grin they wore. his mother, his father hugged him so tight they might as well have been one. his sisters, his brother ― nearly crying when they saw his scruffy face. his little nephews & nieces ― excited in the way they walked & talked & held his hand all the way through the day.

but there was one person, amidst all the laughter & noise of the day, he found himself thinking of.

"so... mama," he tried to broach, though he knew in his heart his questions wouldn't get past her. his mother is perceptive as she is loving.

"yes?"

"sampaguita still lives down the street, no?"

she smiles, the lines of her face squinching up. it masks her suspicion.

"yes, she does," his mother says. "still the same house, still working in the same clinic. if i recall, she's trying to visit her family for the holidays ― in november maybe."

"...and her father?"

"he's travelling, cariño, but last i heard ― just as he left, she went down with a terrible sickness. she took leave about half a day ago." his mother's voice had taken a curious quality, soft & cheeky.

alejandro's face falls at the sickness of his friend.

"oh," he intones. "is she alright then? did she go to a hospital?"

"oh, no, cariño." her voice is honey, chokingly so ― too sweet to not be a scheme.

"she wanted to take care of herself in her own home. we tried to help but ―" she shrugs. "she refused, felt herself a burden, poor girl."

the sentence did its job. the seed was planted. alejandro would visit his friend come morning.

―

"alejandro? you're back!" is what you say when you open the door, eyes bleary & grey-faced in the wake of the sun.

"yes, that i am, sampaguita,"

the lines of his grin still make you warm in the chest. your friend, as always, was as handsome as could be.

"i'd invite you inside but," your hoarse voice tapers down. you see your buckets & dropcloths by the sink, the sheets of pills & capsules, a gatorade going warm on the floor. "it's a mess in here."

"that's exactly why i'm going inside, sampaga."

"what?"

"i heard you were sick. you need someone to help."

"wha ― no, alejandro, you don't need to ―"

"i've already made up my mind."

"you ― you shouldn't waste your leave on something like this!"

"with you, it's not a waste." he says, no violent rejection ― just the gentle strength of words & care. "please, let me in."

you grumble. your matted hair is wiry, curling along your shoulders. you feel like a mess, sweaty from trying to break your fever, unable to take a bath because of said fever. your clothes were from the day before yesterday, most likely with drops of regurgitated food, smelling of stomach acid.

"sampaga," he meets your eyes. "i won't take no for an answer."

you wilt, shrugging into yourself.

"you won't be disgusted?"

"mi cariño, i work in the special forces. i believe i've seen worse."

you always thought that there were times he's had to use that exact grin for his job ― to reassure families, children of the safety he'd give. you just didn't think you'd be one of the people receiving it.

you welcome him inside, closing the door with a click & locking it in place.

his eyes rove from wall to wall, corner to corner. he sees the buckets, the dropcloths, the pills, the capsules, even the gatorade going warm on the hardwood floor.

he finds your face, and smiles, tight-lipped, sincere. it was meant to comfort & it did exactly that.

"come on," he says. "let's get you to bed."

entering the bedroom brings more mess. there was porridge on your nightstand, half eaten & cold. a bottle of water stood by, three quarters of the way full. your sheets were a mess. the blanket was running down the side of the bed. a pillow was sitting on the floor.

without a word from you, he sets out to fix the bed sheets.

you had half a mind to protest before deciding you wouldn't win that conversation. you choose to carry the bowl of porridge to the kitchen sink, watering it down before going back to bed.

he holds your hand when you settle down, sitting by your legs when your head finds the pillow.

"how'd you get sick?" is what he asks, kneading the cloth where your knees billow the blankets up.

"i skipped a meal."

"well, there you go," he chuckles, and so do you.

you recline to your side, ruffling up the sheets even further.

"i had an early breakfast the other day & by the time 11 o'clock happened, i was already hungry. i couldn't find the time to eat ― i had forgotten because we had a fire safety seminar."

your hair is curling up & around, looking like a crown.

he sees you yawn & his eyes go softer.

"it's interesting though," you say. your hand is now on his.

"what is?"

"this isn't from bacteria, you know? or a virus or any infectious agent. it's just... my body doing its job because i didn't take care of it."

"see? even your body is telling you to take care of yourself. ah, so stubborn, never listening to anyone."

at that, you laugh with him. the corners of your lips pushing your cheek further into the pillow.

"i'll listen from now on, i promise."

he faintly feels your fingertips kneading circles into his knuckles.

"wait, if you skipped a meal, how come the...?" he recalls the buckets & cloths strewn around the house.

"skipping a meal means the acid in the stomach ―" you cough into your elbow, rough, forceful. "the acid in the stomach has no food to digest. it sits there long enough, it eats into the stomach lining."

"so... the stomach,"

"the stomach gets irritated, inflammed. some people bleed, too. the irritation means you can't keep the food down, or at least, a lot of it." you clear your throat. "antacid helps. painkillers, too."

he cards his fingers through your hair & kisses your brow. he holds your cheek in his hand. it's warm against his palm.

"you stay here, okay?" he asks. "i'll clean up, and then i'll make you some soup."

"alejandro ―"

"whatever you say won't stop me." his grin is smug but genuine. he wants to take care of you, you realize belatedly.

"thank you. you don't have to do this."

he chuckles. "i'd do it ten times over if i have to. you're never getting rid of me, sampaguita."

―

the first bout of emesis he witnesses happens late at night.

he had taken to using the guest room after insisting you needed to be monitored even in sleep. you lost that conversation fighting, he admits, but still, you lost.

the room was close to the bathroom, where he heard your footfalls echo into the dead of night.

he opens the door & finds a sliver of light carving the hallway in half.

he sees you, then, on the floor, with your hair in your hands. the force of your stomach clenching makes you jump from your seat. it looks painful, especially with the way you're hunched over.

he sits with you, taking your hair & rubbing circles into your back. the corrosive smell did not ward him away. the line of spittle & half-digested food did not scare him.

he hears you cough, a detonation of fireworks in the muscles of your throat. it catches in your esophagus. you're tearing up, and when you spit it out, it comes streaked with blood.

it's there that alejandro flinches. seeing that bright red, seeing it come from you, you who was in pain, who was tired, who had your sleep interrupted by bouts of nausea.

he couldn't help it. he hugged you tighter.

―

he found a cloth somewhere in your room. he didn't remember.

all he recalled was drying the tears that ran down your face, wiping the corners of your lips.

"i can do it myself, alejandro," your voice was rough, like stone grating on iron. it sounded like the color red, raw & bleeding. agony in a breath.

alejandro couldn't reply. what would he say? that he couldn't do anything else but bring you medicine & food? that the sickness in your body can only be fought by you? that if he could fight your hurts rather than nurse them, he would?

illness was an invisible enemy. no strategy, no surprise. just waiting & watching for results until it all becomes better again.

he didn't know illness could hurt from the caretaker's side, too.

"you coughed until you drew blood,"

"so? it's not the first time."

your words startle him. how could you say that so cavaleirly? so carelessly?

"that's not... cariño, that's not the p―"

"it's not that serious ―"

"to me, it is, cariño! listen!"

he raised his voice. he begged the earth would swallow him whole.

"i didn't mean to shout... at you. it's ― you're..."

his irises meet yours & he feels himself grow small.

you were crying. big fat droplets were running down your cheeks, reaching the bunched up sheets inside your clenched hands. you swallow, come back to your senses.

the water registers & you're frantic to wipe away every last tear.

"no..." your voice was breaking like glass. "alejandro, just get out, please, this isn't your fault. i'm sorry. i'm not crying because of you."

the words are blurred together, coiling & writhing in a symphony of your hoarse, broken tenor.

alejandro feels a lump in his throat. he's caused you more pain, and you were apologizing. he doesn't want to cry, too. no, he shouldn't.

his hands have gone limp on the blankets, unsure, hesitant.

"samp ― may i hold you, please?" there's a crack when he says please.

you eyes are filling with tears again. they run along their course & meet the corners of your lips.

"yes..." your voice ― a stained glass window stoned to splinters. "please."

and so he does, planting his hands on your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. your hair tickles the underside of his chin, catching on the scruff.

there's a low groan wheedling out your esophagus, bringing with it an uneven breath.

then another.

and another.

you're hiccupping. your whole chest is trembling under him. your lungs under his fingertips stretch with each inhale, trying to accommodate air that shouldn't be there.

"deep breaths, cariño, deep breaths."

he has to remind himself not to hold you too tight, else you get smothered. with no other avenue to reassure you, he does what he can. he rubs your back & kisses your forehead.

"i'm sorry." he says into your temple.

"you ―" two erratic inhales. "you shouldn't be sorry."

the pitch of your voice rises & falls. the muscles in your throat spasm in tune with the inhales.

"no, i am. i'm sorry that i ―"

"stop apologizing, please." you bury yourself further into him, weave your arms around his torso. "stop it, stop it, please."

it's barely a whisper but he follows, blindly, as if your words were gospel.

―

the day goes on after dawn.

your head was splitting after your sobbing session. you take a paracetamol sooner than the prescribed four hours.

alejandro was busy cooking you something. soup, you guessed, or maybe more porridge. you couldn't tell from the smell. both your nostrils were blocked.

you'd been restrained to sitting or lying down on the bed as per alejandro's reprimands. he had listed reason after reason to not let you walk out nor even stand up to do anything in your room.

"you've just vomited all your food." he had said. "your stomach is empty. your source of energy is gone. get some rest, sampaguita. drink something."

you took to staring at the sunrise in the far corner of the room. the window was ajar, not even open all the way. you see the rays of light pass behind the curtain, pointing up to the walls & the ceiling.

there's wind somewhere outside, making the drapes fly up. bird were singing, faintly.

the door opens & alejandro brings in a tray full of food, water, medicine & a small basin, presumably for future instances of nausea.

despite the aches of your head, throat, chest & nose, you grin whe he sets it down, beckoning him closer to your seat at the bed.

"thank you," you're pensive for a while. then you take his hand & you give it a small peck.

"you don't need to thank me every time i do something, sampaga. it's alright."

"& are you gonna stop me?"

there it is, a face so joyous & radiant that it lights up like a full moon. the squinch of your nose, the arch of your eyelids, a golden dream of a person. alejandro could kiss you. he almost did.

but he did something better. he gave you the bowl of hot soup & a bottle of warm water. he helped you take the medicine when you finished your meal & he tucked you in when you felt drowsy.

he'll take care of you, he promises.

[cuteangsty]

Youkai Temple (pilot)

Based on this post

(so I was working on these characters for a while and I managed to write a little story. I kinda plan on making more, but I'm not sure of everything so I'm calling this s pilot chapter)

Hanzō is nothing. He is nothing. It is nothing. Koji always regarded him as such. Yet something about him... His struggles, his whining and, of course the teary smile that came afterwards... There's something rather captivating about him, almost like a clueless child, he is never thinking about the pain, it seems. Kouji loves that.

Everyday, from the moment Kouji wakes up, he can't stop thinking about his scheduled time with the half-youkai. The few workers at the temple thank and greet him for being brave enough to tame such creature, "if only they new how easy it is to subjugate the lowly creature underneath" he thinks as he makes his way to Hanzō's room, through the tiny hallways sculpted on the soil. The few curious keepers caught walking through such long hallways were immediately stopped by Kouji who warned them about the terrible beast, his warnings made them all too afraid of even reaching the end of the hallway .The door was quite underwhelming, however. A small door made out of many rather thick bamboo planks, making it quite heavy, though, not impossible to open, especially for a youkai. In the middle of the de ladoor, lied a small paper sticker with a prayer written. Definitely not the heavy, think metal door covered with seals that Kouji had told everyone about.

Once Kouji gets there, he is greeted with muffled groans. Eyes and mouth covered with a cloth tied behind the head, the hands were chained together on its back, the left ankle is chained to the wall behind it and the right ankle was twisted in a weird way. The as àeso feared beast kouji had tamed was nothing but a malnutrished boy. It rocked back qnd forth occasionally, probably a calming stim, Kouji thought. There were no tears yet, since all of the still bleeding awounds weren't new, the latest one being 5 teeth cozocppremoved two days ago, 2 from the back left, 1 from the back right and the last 2 on the front. That's what I pullKouji was here to see, the follow ups of the recovery, not that he cared for the youkai's health, his 'care' was more utilitary than anything. He needed him to grow his teeth baqHtck and heal the wounds for his body to be used in the next rituals to come.

Kouji kneeled down reaching the youkai's level and looming over it, with a quick and indelicate move he pulls the bloody rag out of it's mouth and forces it open. It groans loudly, squirming, the cloth blindfolding his eyes wet with new tears of pain. Kouji moves his head around a little checking everything. "Ssshhh it's okay" kouji shushes as he uses one hand to rubs his fingers on the growing teeth and the other to rub the youkai's matted hair. His temperature was warm. Hot even, too hot for someone who lives at a mossy cold basement. It was clear Hanzō had a fever, more over, there was an infection on one tooth in the back, at this point it was probably hallucinating, not that he cared. Youkai usually manage to heal themselves on their own, it only took some time and food and the boy ate yesterday, so this problem was basically solved. The infection didn't seem big, although there's the threat of spreading, it wasn't likely, not concern him nowz not for a youkai.

The more he stroked it's hair the more the boy seemed to calm down under his hand, Hanzō gasps and whimpers with a pained yet genuine smile. "So fucking sick, aren't you?" Kouji mocked holding it by the neck. Such a pleasant view. "You don't even know what's happening, and yet you smile at me...that's why I love you, you know?" he laughs, finishing the examination. "You're fine. The fever must go down once the teeth are fully grown." Kouji throws it back to the floor and ties the cloth back in it's mouth. He gets up and leaves without even glancing back.

Kouji gets back to the temple and starts the preparations announcing the next ritua. His words are simple, but very clear to the keepers, already used to his manger of speaking.

"Soon. We'll have a blood ritual. Just keeping things calm around here."

Soon.

[gvf-imagine]

Weekend with Jake

——————————

You and the boys relaxed in Jake and Josh’s basement, it was a calm saturday afternoon and most of your free time was spent with these men in this basement. They were your friends, your best friends even. Sam was the first one you met , he was in your biology class to which you both showed up late and were paired together to dissect a frog. Which you both protested, instead of cutting up a poor frog you and him talked about music the whole class hour. You failed the class but gained a friend, well four friends after he introduced you to his brother’s that lunch period. That was a few years ago now, back in freshman year. Now you're all seniors, who barely attended school. The boys at least had good reason, they were investing their time in their band. You just didn't want to go to school if your friends weren't there, you did what you needed to graduate and coasted through the rest.

“Thirsty?” Jake inquires , noticing you'd been quiet for a while. You didn't realize any of them had spoken; you were adrift in reflections of the past.

“Yeah I could go for some soda” you answer, offering him a kind smile, he grins back and hops off the black suede couch, his imprint still left in the cushion next to you. You hadn't noticed the warm presence of his body heat until it was gone. He moved across the room and jogged up the stairs headed for the kitchen.

“I'm bored” Danny utters, looking at an old magazine. He let it fall out of his grip and settle lightly on his lap.

“Me too” Sam announces, he had been situated in the corner of the room and was fiddling around with his Bass, he often played small compositions to himself. You looked to Josh who you expected would be the next to say something, he was far too enthralled with his phone to even regard that any of you were here.

Jake's footsteps descended the stairs before he hopped over the back of the couch landing perfectly in his fading imprint.

“Here you go!” he voices handing you the cold can. You grab it and inspect the label, your eyebrows peak up towards your forehead in thought.

“You got me diet?” you inquire looking to him. His face goes pale and panic fills his chocolate brown eyes. He shifts his weight on the couch, adjusting his posture. He gulps telling you his throat went dry. You tried your hardest not to laugh, but couldn't help it. It was cute seeing him all flustered at the thought of insulting you.

“Jakey, I'm just kidding, I prefer diet, thank you” the words escape your lips and Jake sighs with relief sneaking in a small chuckle as well.

“Good….because I didn't mean anything by bringing you diet, I mean I know you like it but I dont - I dont think youre ya know, I don't thi- you look really good to me like you don't have to change anything about your- I just-” you put your finger to his mouth, his haphazard words coming to a stop.

“Thank you Jake” you speak softly, you knew what he was trying to say.

“Let's go swimming” Josh proposes, finally lifting his eyes from his phone. You had almost forgotten what you were talking about.

“Swimming? We don't have a pool” Sam replies, setting his base back in its case. Josh shrugs looking at his tall, slim, younger brother.

“no , but the neighbors do and they're out of town” he offers with a sly grimace.

“Problem solved” Danny chimes perking up with a toothy grin.

“I’m in” Jake replies nodding.

“(y/n)?” Josh asks, they all look at you in waiting. Your eyes flicker between the four of them.

“Sure….but I don't have a bathing suit” you realize.

“That's ok you can just wear your birthday suit” Josh winks. Your eyes roll, as they often did in Josh's direction.

“You can borrow Ronnies,here come on I'll take you to her room” Jake offers, touching your shoulder gently indicating it was time to stand. You agree and follow him up the stairs and down the hall to her room. You walked in and it smelled just like her, vanilla and cashmere , her signature perfume scent. Jake looks around the room and silence settles in the air he looks over to you his hand tucked snugly in his back pockets.

“Here it's right here….dont worry its clean '' he says pulling the bikini out of Ronnie's drawer. You look at it as he hands it to you , it was the color of strawberry milk, which you liked, it was also a two piece, which you didn't like.

“Oh it's a bikini” you utter, you didn't mean to say it out loud. You did not usually wear bikinis , you didn't feel very comfortable in them, especially not in front of four boys. You just didn't feel like you had the right body for a bikini. Jake must have noticed your unease

“You can wear one of my shirts if you're not comfortable in just that” he offers gently. You smile and thank him but decline, you didn't want his clothes to get ruined from the chlorine.

“Ill just wear this, its no problem, plus I really wanna go swimming its hot as fuck out” you chuckle. Jake nods in agreement

“Well I'd better go change too” he announces, leaving you alone in the room. You slip your clothes off and shuffle into the bikini. You looked at yourself in the mirror that hung on the back of Ronnie's door. You didn't look as horrible as you thought you would have, but you were still kind of nervous about the guys seeing you like this, they'd never seen you in such a small amount of clothing.

“Most of your body will be underwater, they'll only see you for a moment” you give yourself a small pep talk.

“Come on (y/n) were leaving!” you hear danny call from the living room. With a fortifying breath you give yourself one last look and walk out of the room. You make a pit stop in the bathroom and grab a towel to wrap around your body , you grabbed an extra four for the guys as well. The soft shag carpeting of the bath mat in the bathroom grounded you and calmed you.

“Just getting some towels!” you yell down assuming they heard you. You had the towels and you were ready to go, butterflies slammed incessantly into the sides of your stomach, begging to be released.

You walked down the stairs and found the guys waiting by the front door.

“Alright let's go” Josh says as he turns the bronze door knob, the sun gleamed in the sky, you squinted trying to combat its powerful rays.

“Jesus christ” Sam spat holding his hand up above his eyes.

“Good day for swimming,” Danny adds as you all walked towards the backyard, the neighbor in question was a few houses down. The warm soft grass felt inviting on the bottoms of your feet the sun bathed your skin with warmth like a hug from mother nature herself.

The pool was actually pretty big, you were almost surprised something like this was in someone's backyard and not on an episode of ‘cribs’. The boys begin pulling their shirts off with no thought , you were almost jealous at how little they had to worry about their bodies. You, on the other hand, were a little more reluctant. A few droplets of water hit your face as Jake jumps in the pool, then Danny then sam.

“Come on” Josh nudges you before joining his brothers. You watch them with a smile before dropping your towel , slowly. Jake was watching you intently only with his head visible above water. His lips part and his tongue smooths across them as he takes in the sight of you. His hair was wet and small drops of water cascaded down his face, he didn't seem to notice he was too engaged with you. You didn't see him looking at you at first and the first person to say anything was danny.

“Jesus…” he muttered, in a good way you had hoped.

“I'll take that as a compliment Daniel” you chime walking closer to the pool, using the ladder to slowly dip yourself in the refreshing water. It wasn't too cold or too hot, it was perfect and your body thanked you for it.

The guys swam around for a while, all of you splashing each other, laughing and probably being far too loud to go unnoticed by the other neighbors but none of you cared. It was freeing to be in the water, all your worries fade with every splash , ebb and flow just like the artificial waves Josh and Sammy were causing while wrestling in the water. You felt something grab your leg and pull you under before you could let out a sound. You smile when you see Jake's long hair floating aimlessly in the clear blue water, he waves to you then brings his hand to his lips and blows you a kiss before resurfacing. You stayed under a few seconds longer than followed him up. The noise of the outside world filling your ears once again. Jake flipped his hair out of his face, you watched in slow motion as droplets of water flung of the tips. You couldn’t help but take not of how attractive Jake is, his smooth sun kissed skin covered in droplets of water racing down his body

Stop stop stop.

You pull your eyes away from him , you could swear you saw him smile.

Your heart was fluttering in your chest, you hadn’t felt like this before about Jake, you’ve always seen him as a best friend. The night went on and now you and Jake found yourselves back at his house , upstairs on the balcony that was attached to his second floor bedroom.

“You want a drink?” He questions

“Wine?” You inquire with a smile.

“Yes ma’am, your favorite too, pink moscato” he returns the smile. You were at the kiszkas so often for dinner they’d always kept a bottle of your favorite wine in their liquor cabinet. Jake stepped out of his room and downstairs. You turned your attention to the sky. Pinks and oranges painted across the lazy sky as the sun began to set. You closed your eyes, your body tired from spending the day in the hot sun. The clinking of glasses brings you back to a more present state of mind. Your eyes flicker up to Jake who stood over you, holding a wine glass out to you , once you took it he returned to the wooden patio chair he was sitting on.

He poured your drink first and then his, the wind gently blowing his hair. You took a sip of the sweet and tart liquid, it was ice cold and delicious.

Your eyes find their way back to the sky.

“What a beautiful view” you chime to no one in particular. Jake looks to you, he watches the wind sweep through your hair , his eyes scan your profile lingering on your lips.

“Yeah...you’re gorgeous” he says , his words softly float out of his mouth.

“I means ITS- it’s a gorgeous...view” he corrects himself quickly, he curses himself under his breath. You pretend like you didn’t hear the first part but you did and it made your stomach flip. Did he really think you’re gorgeous?

“Are you sleeping over?” He asks, taking another drink from his glass. You mull the idea over in your head.

“Do you want me to?” You respond , a loaded question.

Jake catches this and smiles at you.

“Of course” he coos. This would not be the first time you slept over so it wasn’t a big deal.

The rest of the guys were downstairs drinking around the fire pit, you could see them from where you were sitting.

“Wanna join them?” Jake asks, noticing you gazing down at them.

“Sure!” You chime. The two of you grab your drinks and make your way to the fire pit.

“We should make s’mores” you propose making a pit stop in the kitchen. You open the cupboards looking for graham crackers and some chocolate bars. Marshmallows were on top of the fridge as always.

“Here I can carry that” Jake offers, taking the food from your hands , such a gentleman. His fingertips gently brush against yours and by the look in his sparkling eyes you couldn’t help but wonder if it was intentional.

“There they are,” Josh exclaims as you and Jake sat down. You sat next to Danny who welcomed you with a side hug and a kind smile. Jake sat across from you with Sammy. Flames of blazing heat separating the two of you, obstructing your view of him.

“We brought snacks” Jake chimes tossing the marshmallows to Sam who tore the bag open happily.

Conversation flowed as easily as the drinks, the sun was gone now, the heat of the alcohol was all you needed to keep you warm. The five of you spent a few hours around that fire landing you all in a drunken stooper.

“Well...I think I’m gonna go to bed ladies” you say, struggling to stand up. Danny holds your arm stabilizing you. You turn and give him a good night hug, his hand brushes up and down your back as he says goodnight. You take a lap hugging each of them , all of them saying goodnight. You stumble again as you walk towards the house.

“I’ll help her” Jake says standing to his feet, you feel his hand lay above your hip bone and his other hand grab your arm as he stands behind you holding you up.

“Went a little heavy on the wine huh girl?” He laughs as he moves you through the house.

“Yeah” you slur.

“Think you can make it up the stairs?” He asks, trying to catch your gaze. You shrug. He chuckles and just picks you up bridal style , carrying you gracefully up the stairs. He sets you down on his bed gently, his mattress shapes to your body , you feel him drape a thick comforter over you , his body weight settling next to you. He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses you softly, reluctantly on the cheek. It felt right, being here with him in this bed , with his arms wrapped around you , your body against his, his face nuzzled into your neck planting kisses on your shoulder. He whispers a soft goodnight.

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, it took you a moment to realize where you were, your head pounded , the night before still knocking against your brain.

Jake was nowhere to be found , well, at least in the bedroom. You squint your eyes as the sun gleamed through the blinds

“Good morning” Jake voices as he steps into the room carrying a tray with breakfast foods laid out attractively.

“I brought you breakfast, I bet you’re feeling pretty rough” he chuckles as he sets the tray down so it’s stationed across your lap. You smile at the plate of delicious food in front of you and then turn to Jake.

“Oh Jake this is so sweet, thank you so much”

“You’re welcome girl….I made it all myself” he adds.

“Well here we can share” you chime scooting over so he could get closer, he wasted no time doing so.

You rest your head on his chest as he takes a drink of juice.

It all felt right, for the first time in your life everything felt right.

[naramdil]

Hi Hafsa! I was the cat anon, I'm getting a little silver marble Bengal boy! What shall I name him? And omg please give me any and all the advice you could possibly give me, I need all the help I can get

hey!! I’m so sorry for such a delayed response but I am absolutely Thrilled for you!!!! experiencing life w a kitten for the first time is so magical and it can be exhausting but it’s all so worth it. you’re gonna be in love. idk if you’ve gotten him already yet but hopefully some of this info will still be helpful even if you have. I made this a read more bc I wrote a lot lol. please let me know if there are any other questions that you have and good luck with everything 💗

re: his name, I have NO idea but I literally always thought if I ever get another boy kitten that I’d want to name him Rumi? also sometimes once you get them a name manifests naturally so don’t stress too much about that. I will say that it’s better to keep it st short and at a max of two syllables, when you say his name to him pronounce it with emphasis so he knows you’re talking to him. 

before he arrives (again, if you have him already you can disregard this lol) but I suggest planning on keeping him in one room to start as he gets used to your home environment - the sounds/smells etc. so for me I kept him in my room. 

this room will need to be baby proofed, check the floor for small things they could choke on, cover up outlets, loose wires, etc. so that it’s a safe enough place to leave him unsupervised. 

make sure that you keep all his necessary things there: a litter box, food, water, a few toys (I’ll link some of lulu’s faves later), somewhere to scratch, and somewhere to hide (this might be his carrier or st like this, some cats enjoy sitting in their carriers and some don’t so providing somewhere for him to retreat to is always good imo) 

when you bring him home, set the carrier near the litter and allow him to come out of the carrier on his own. now, I read that a lot of cats are nervous and take time but my cat could not Wait to get out of the carrier and smell the entire parameter of my room, and ik bengals have similar curious temperaments so he may not be that shy from the get go. before he continues exploring just set him down in the litter box so he knows where it is and then let him carry on exploring and familiarizing himself w the environment. 

also make sure the food and water aren’t near the litter box lol 

also I rec getting a small fuzzy blanket and conditioning him to knead on that rather than directly on you or someone/something else. you will thank me later for his when he’s a grown ass adult with grown ass adult paws. 

litter - bengal cats are v big, as are ragdolls so! I rec a Big litter box, either the large or extra large sized pans you can buy. also do yourself a favor and buy the liners, I also def use those litter locker things lol they make it a lot easier to dispose & maintain a clean litter box. 

keep a mat to place the litter box on. please. 

I get the tidy cats instant action one and have never had any issue with smell or any other health problems that some litters can cause 

scratching - this is the scratching post I have for my cat, it’s really nice and tall for large breeds and I haven’t had to replace it quite yet, it’s literally lasted six years of use so far! I’ll probs need to replace it soon though lol but a lot of cheaper scratching posts don’t last more than a few months so I’m really happy w this one. 

also ik they make cardboard ones but my cat’s scratching instinct has never kicked in w those so that’s just st to note, all cats have different preferences so starting out w a few cheaper things and seeing what he prefers before investing in st like what I linked above is a good idea 

regarding grooming - get him used to it early on. wait for him to be in sleepy nap mood and brush him over. let him smell the brush first, that’s a huge tip actually. before introducing him to anything new, before touching him etc, always let him smell before proceeding.  

if you are going to clip his claws at home then get a sturdy pair of clippers, if you buy st cheap and flimsy it’s going to cause damage to his nail. also this is st to get him used to while he is young, it’s okay if he only let’s you do a couple at a time. 

toys! there are obvi many kinds of toys so I’m gonna list some that are lulu’s faves 

any of those cat toys that are like fishing rods with a toy attached to the end? great! avoid getting the ones with feathers on the ends bc your cat will demolish them so fast but also, feather toys always make my cat sneeze so I just avoid letting him play with those. what you’re gonna learn is that between 2 and 5 am, your kitten has a HUGE burst of energy. lulu used to run around my room SO FAST and I used to make him chase after this toy to tire him out before going to bed lol. if you have a kitten that’s super active at night, try to interrupt some of his napping during the day & then play Hard with him before you sleep. also, if your kitten starts panting while playing, take the toy away and let him rest. sometimes they cannot rest if the toy is still in sight so you may have to hide it for a little bit before resuming play. 

cat’s love lasers. if you have a laser it is endless entertainment for both you and your kitten. 

this kind of toy is best for when you’re leaving your cat alone and need him to entertain himself. my cat only plays with this one when I am unavailable, it def keeps him entertained. 

any kind of ball toy is nice, you can play with him or he can play with them by himself 

my cat rly loves this cat nip toy 

anything with 

that’s really it tbh cats are v easy to please and I’m sure once you see what kind of things he’s most intrigued by you’ll be able to better figure out what to try out. 

okay I feel like I have covered almost all bases, ik I haven’t discussed food but that will vary with whatever your cat is already used to and if your cat is picky etc. 

[scriptshrink]

First, hello! Second, question. I have a character who has PTSD. What is most likely to cause a vivid, visceral, flashback? I know sounds, smells, and environments can cause them, but is there a sense/experience that is more common than others to cause a flashback? Is there one that causes flashbacks to be more intense? I've heard smell in particular can link to memories on a different level than others, but I'm not sure how this would interact with PTSD. Thank you for any insight you may have.

CW: mentions of trauma, no details

Snail

First off, I don’t have access to any statistics about the triggers for flashbacks right now, so I won’t be talking about the likelihood of different sensory triggers causing a flashback.What I want to talk about first of all is that sometimes triggers just don’t make sense. Like, in examples that people give they always say things like “the attacker used Frankly Hollington aftershave, and now every time the victim smells the aftershave they have a flashback”, but actually it’s not always like that. 

Sometimes it’s very clear - I walked into the library one time and there was this massive TV playing a news story related to [[trauma]]. A combination of statistics that related to my trauma + the completely unexpected exposure = flashback. Zero surprise.Other times it’s not so clear - I experienced a flashback, and after spending an hour working through it in therapy the next week, I was able to identify a possible trigger, but it wasn’t obvious.And then you get the times when you can’t point to a trigger at all - I was driving home from work, something happened(?), flashback, dissociation, can’t really remember anything between being halfway home and midnight in my bedroom.

I personally believe that smells can cause vivid flashbacks, although I don’t have research to confirm this. But smells are hard to identify as triggers. Sure, sometimes there are smells that clearly link to traumas (wine on someone’s breath, blood, petrol), but there are also a whole bunch of smells that are harder to identify.

Try to remember what you could smell when you last went to the shops. What about the smell when you opened your front door yesterday? It’s really difficult. But when the smell is associated with a trauma, even though your conscious brain can’t identify what the smell is, your emotional response is still “smell=PANIC”

Anon 217

Regarding flashbacks, I’ve actually never had a movie-style flashback where I think I’m back in a traumatic situation. Instead, I experience the same feelings – the same terror, anxiety, emotional response – as during the traumatic event.

Snail

Same, I get the same emotional response and the physical sensations of touch, but for me it’s not like being in a movie where suddenly it’s x years earlier - I know where I am, but it’s almost like part of you is back there

Anon 217

I think with me I’m more afraid of the past trauma happening again. It’s like my brain says, “Shit, XYZ has happened and I’m feeling ABC, which means THE BAD THING will happen again. PREPARE. ALERT. WARNING.”

Snail

Though of course, my brain going “PREPARE. ALERT. WARNING.” often does the opposite of preparing me! I guess it’s my brain’s version of helping. Like the time that it got me out of the “dangerous” situation, but then I ended up wandering the streets, unable to recognise places I knew really well. Well done brain, you are no longer in the “dangerous” party, but you are now walking around the streets of London with no money, no phone, no idea where you are. 

Charlie

I think this depends massively on the individual. Like everyone processes senses in different ways anyway AND trauma also impacts on how memories and senses are processed. So while scent may trigger the most intense response in one person, for another it could be sound.The only movie-style full immersion “oh my god I am back in the Trauma Place™” flashback I’ve ever had was triggered by a situation rather than one individual trigger. It was the sounds, the sights, the people present… It all combined to give me the most vivid flashback I’ve ever had, and I think it’s the same for a lot of people.

It’s also worth keeping in mind that some triggers can be emotional. We talk about the sensory ones a lot, but for me certain feelings like being trapped or helpless are actually far worse than any kind of smell or sound.

adamfaraday

I would agree that flashbacks, from what I have experienced, are more emotional. And triggers are not always obvious or recognizable. The worst one I have had was when I was taking a bath. It might just be a result of being too relaxed or maybe i fell asleep for a moment, but that was the only time I had a visceral flashback. Seeing people behave in a similar way could trigger an emotional response, but it may not happen every time. A trigger does not always equal a flashback. 

lotevane

I’d like to ask a follow-up question to the current ask– flashbacks are a popular expository trope, so that’s what a lot of people end up using.  Assuming the author wants to have their character experience PTSD and given how expository flashbacks are a fiction trope, how would you prefer to see it represented in writing?  What would be a better way to present the information in the flashback?

Snail

To answer lotevane: I think that there isn’t anything inherently wrong with using flashbacks in this way, but it is a bit tiresome to see flashbacks in fiction all being fully-immersive and every flashback conveniently having clear narrative. It would be nice to see some of the complexity/weirdness of flashbacks shown. The disconnect between different senses - I can see the room I am in now, but I can feel hands and hear sounds from then. The fact that you can end up interacting with people and doing things in the real world, even in the middle of a flashback.

The “narrative” of a flashback doesn’t always make sense - in my flashbacks that were closest to movie flashbacks (all senses, although I still knew where I was in real life) it wasn’t an exact recreation of what had happened previously, things were jumping around. For exposition in a story, it wouldn’t work as a “character was working late in the lab one night, they removed Professor J’s samples from the centrifuge, they dropped one of the samples and it exploded! Insert detailed description of character’s attempts to escape but becoming trapped”

It would be more like “character can smell the smoke filing their lungs, feel blood matting their hair. There’s a feeling of panic as they drag themselves across the floor” how did they get in this situation? The flashback isn’t going to describe that.

Even if the flashback shows the time of the explosion, even if it shows the transition from apparent safety to suddenly “I am going to die”, it wouldn’t be something that you could describe using the same style and language you would use to describe it if it were happening chronologically in the story. The feeling for the character is panic, fight-or-flight, and the writing needs to reflect this if you are looking for accuracy- if you are writing a psychological flashback, don’t confuse it with the literary device that is called a flashback. Whereas the literary device allows the author to go back in time and tell the story of what happened, for your character a psychological flashback is not telling a story, it’s reliving a trauma.

lotevane

That’s precisely my point, I feel like the best answer to this ask would be, okay, if you want to use a flashback as a plot device, go ahead, that’s what it’s like as you’re familiar with it– but if you want to capture what it’s actually like, you might want to incorporate what it’s actually like, and here are some examples of what people experience.

Disclaimer

[windycityparrot]

I need a powder coated bird cage - but I'm not sure why

This question that came in recently is a reminder that we as a company should assume nothing. "I have a dark colored copper cage that is about 25 years old. I am having a new cage bottom made. I would like to paint it with a powder coated paint. Do you have any products that would help me or do you know where I may purchase them"? Regards - Mark editors note - heard on the street: “I want a powder coated cage” “everyone is selling powder coated bird cages” “I don’t know what a powder coated cage is but I think my bird should have one” Hi Mark Having managed a small family run powder coat facility back in the last century I am intimately familiar with Electrostatic Powder Coating. Your question also makes an important point. The majority of people let alone caged bird keepes have an opaque view of powder coating. File under setting the record straight. A bird’s cage is the single most important apparatus he or she has. To that point we'll be assisting you in raising your caged bird keeping knowledge-base and will augment written information found here on our blog with our new “cage cam” videos. That’s right. We going to bring the camera inside the cage to help you see what your bird sees (although they see much better than we do). Going where no smart phone has gone before.  Yes, I know we’re awesome - thank you. Do you have a cage cam video? Send one our way and we'll send you $5 in birdie bucks. Time to hit the on ramp. From Wikipedia - Powder coating is a type of coating that is applied as a free-flowing, dry powder. The main difference between a conventional liquid paint and a powder coating is that the powder coating does not require a solvent to keep the binder and filler parts in a liquid suspension form. The coating is typically applied electrostatically and is then cured under heat to allow it to flow and form a "skin". The powder may be a thermoplastic or a thermoset polymer. It is usually used to create a hard finish that is tougher than conventional paint. Your cage bottom Mark, has to be sandblasted to create a rough surface guaranteeing adhesion by the powder which is applied by special electrostatic "guns" that charge the particles positively causing them to cling to the now grounded negatively charged - your cage bottom held by a frame designed for this purpose. Catch tune - huh? I couldn’t find any bird cage manufacturing videos. If you happen to be bumming around China or Vietnam and pass a cage manufacturing facility we'd be grateful if you were to knock on the door and ask if you take some pictures and a little video for the friends back home. In the meantime I found that video example of mass-produced powder coating facility. Just picture those posts as say, birdcage legs. This also drives home the point that powder coating is everywhere you look. It's seen a lot today in outdoor furniture for consumers and at the commercial level. You'll find it on commercial hand rails, mail boxes and more.  Based upon my experience Mark, I can relate to you that your cage bottom has to be suspended and/or run through an oven at approximately 400°F for eight or 10 minutes (depending on the powder used). If you are truly motivated to DIY, it’s important to note that preparation of the surface is probably 3/4 of the process. It’s best to have a portable sandblaster from a company like Harbor Freight for surface preparation.  This fellow does a very good job of explaining the powder coat process in his video.   Paint on the other hand is readily available in cans: information on selecting the proper paint for birdcages can be found here mitchr This where we take a slice of a holistic view of your captive bird's environment. Editor’s note: we give our birds far less credit than they deserve for their ability to adapt

Bird flocks in the wild tend to reside in the same general area in the same set of trees as long as the area proves to be "safe haven". When birds are on the move looking for food, foraging, meaning they are flying a mile or two and landing somewhere. In most cases it will be on a tree that they never landed on - an arbitrary rock. This is why birds have few nerves in their feet. It makes adjusting “on a dime” to a rough new area - an everyday fact of life for a bird in its natural environment.   We also know that birds have no muscles in their feet. Their legs and feet are controlled by an eloquent pulley system made of two tendons in each leg. Thus when they clamp their feet fully around anything including cage bars, it is with the full force of their legs and feet.

DYK there are feral lovebirds living in Arizona cactus? barbed wire and catus teach us never to under estimate our bird's abilities to adapt This includes climbing up and down their cage. Something we encourage because the more they do it the more exercise they have and it helps maintain overall strength. When birds climb up and down ON their cage (we are leaving the discussion of perches and letters for another time) they are assisting their ascent or descent with their beak which is for razor blades having the potential strength of almost 300 psi. They are also "squeezing" cold hard metal - cage bars which stress your bird's feet out Which brings us to (FINALLY) to why we want our cages to be powder coated. and I really liked this powder coat DIY video because it's a really low cost system using a house hold oven. (You can not cook food in an oven once it has been used for powder coating  When you paint anything, you are coating the "substrate” ie; the cage metal, dry wall, the restored piece of furniture” The “powder” In the term powder coating on the other hand chemically bonds to the metal substrate aka bird cage parts. As noted preparation of the surface is probably 3/4 of the process. While at Shelf-Kote everybody had to spend time in the sandblast booth. This is what we wore. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B1LNJqQiCgo Always hoping that somebody remembered to replace the air filter in the oxygen line before you were racing to meet a deadline. Powder coating done right will withstand a parrots abusive feet and beak due to this unique marriage of particle and metal united in the church heat but all powder coating is not the same. Improper surface preparation Can lead to premature flaking of the coating. We hear on occasion from people who say their bird is chewing the coating off the cage. To which we ask “how many toys are in the cage?” And the reply usually goes something like “he really likes that bell.” sigh btw: A bird cages natural enemy is water. Although the powder coating is impervious to liquid, the square tubular components usually forming the corner of larger right I am bird cages are hollow. When the interior of this metal gets wet it is slow to dry and accelerates rust. This happens a lot when you drag your bird cage out to the driveway the moment the snow has melted. This is your day in the sun to try new new 2580 psi pressure washer on your cockatoos cage that has gotten, well - soiled - over the winter. Kemosabe - Put the wand down and step away from the power washer. There will be a puddle of water inside each of the four corners with the casters that attach to the metal tubes. If it’s a really good fit with the plastic fittings there could be a small puddle of water at the bottom of each of your cage's is feet for weeks. The deck will be there when the snow clears. Keep the cage where it is. Place something like an office chair mat or a scrap piece of vinyl flooring under the bird cage protect your floor and have an easy to clean surface. Get a hand held steam cleaner. If we could find one to sell you that we can make a buck on without ripping you off you would see the CTA (call to action) button here - to buy one now. You’re on your own for finding one grasshopper but it will solve not only the cleaning of the cage but the cleaning of the accessories with in the cage while sanitizing everything without the use of chemicals. Take that, environmentalists. Cagescaping tip: Before installing anything new into the cage, It’s important that you've observed your birds movement throughout the cage and are aware of its "poop trajectories". This will save time in daily cleaning and maintenance and make for a healthier environment. When poop is on accessories like ladders, Your bird later will groom its own feet - nuff said. You are a caged Bird keeper, which is why you are reading this. Your bird is a captive bird. If you took your cage outside with your bird in it and open the door your bird would eventually fly out never to be seen again. With this whole powder coat metal bird feet tendon beak thing in the background, I hope you can begin to see why although a cage is useful for your bird to navigate you can put undue stress on its feet. Your bird's beak attacking it daily certainly is not prolonging the life of said birdcage. Rather than fighting the cage, use the cage as support system for multiple thoroughfares and gateways inside and outside of the cage. Booda soft rope perches are one of the most effective birdcage accessories for this purpose.  I hope you found this brief journey into the mysteries of birdcage manufacturing, interesting. At least more so than knowing what the numbers on the side wall of your car tires mean. The two-digit number after the slash mark in a tire size is the aspect ratio. For example, in a size P215/65 R15 tire, the 65 means that the height is equal to 65% of the tire's width. The bigger the aspect ratio, the bigger the tire's sidewall will be. written by mitch rezman approved by catherine tobsing Your Zygodactyl footnote  I provide foster care for Oasis Sanctuary parrots in need of medical care. I currently have 18 of the nearly 800 Oasis parrots in my care. I ordered your full spectrum light bulbs and they arrived today. I want to thank you for the competitive price for the bulbs. All 6 are now in use. One is over a plucked Vos Eclectus female's cage where it will assist in breaking down bilirubin and aid in vitamin D production and calcium absorption. This parrot has liver disease and chronically low serum calcium despite daily calcium supplements.  The second bulb is in use for a Scarlet Macaw who 21 years ago broke her back. She has many health problems now and the bulb will supply UVA & UVB light rays to help her. The third bulb is in a light to provide general lighting to the area where the macaw & eclectus spend their days with 2 other parrots. The last 3 bulbs are installed in the "Chat Room." This is a bedroom housing sleeping quarters for 13 parrots and it is the daytime play area for 7 of the birds. Their medical needs range from old age to recovery from surgery. I just wanted you to know the use I put the bulbs to in case anyone asks what they are "good for." Ruth Ann La Rue - The Oasis Sanctuary - Business Manager & Foster Care Provider Customer Dear Ruth Ann Thank you for telling us about your use of the bulbs. It sounds like they are doing the best they can for the birds. We are thrilled to hear this. I hope the birds "feel better" for them being there. Thank you very much - Catherine Click to Post