#80% humidity get the fuck out of here.

[venusrobots]

it is truly a shame no one in southern california will ever see me at my cutest bc i come here and my hair immediately becomes SO freaking frizzy and huge and all my beautiful curls fall apart!!!! bah!!!!!!

[the-everqueen]

i would greatly appreciate if the ocd would stop expanding the limits/shrinking the parameters of my wardrobe so that i could stop having meltdowns about my outfits on a daily basis.

[hedwig123]

Ranking The Quarry Counselor Outfits By Late-August Practicality

OK, so. This has been bugging me. I blame SMG's British-ness for this, but so many of the counselors' outfits are just... ridiculous for late August.

(Apparently the weather in the area- West Kill, NY- that day was a high of 75, a low of 68, and humidity was 100 FUCKING PERCENT. So. My concerns are not unfounded.)

So now I'm going to rank all the character outfits by how likely I think it is that normal human people would put them on during the latter half of August, tyyyyyyyy

Excluding Max & Laura because the only time they got to pick their own outfits was June- which, still not great, but. I'll let it slide. Also excluding Emma's overalls, because again, she didn't pick them.

So of the other 21 AUGUST outfits:

21. Nick's 80s Outfit

Dead fucking last is the letterman jacket. Aesthetically it looks cool, and I want to give it bonus points for being a Matt Taylor reference, but I can't. That's a coat. A coat, SMG.

20. Jacob's Modern Outfit

First can I just say how weird it is that Jacob doesn't have a single 360 look uploaded? In ANY of his outfits???

Anyway. This was going to be a little higher because I thought he was wearing a sweatshirt, but looking at it in the close-up that is a fucking sweater. NO!!!!!

19. Nick's 50s Outfit

That is just a full-on nearly-cable-knit sweater. The only reason it ranks above Jacob is that it's at least not visibly layered. But still.

18. Abi's 50s Outfit

Listen, I love that they made Blygbank into Velma & Daphne as much as the next person, but Abi's still wearing a turtleneck in August. They couldn't at least shorten the sleeves? Or pair it with shorts?

17. Emma's Modern Outfit

OK, so I love this outfit out of context. But. Even as a crop-top. It is a turtleneck sweater. With jeans, no less! Jeans, no less!

16. Kaitlyn's Modern Outfit

Why the layers. Why. It's cute, sure, but August.

15. Dylan's 80s Outfit

I'm told this is a rugby shirt, which people do play some sports in. So it's almost passable. But the slacks... the sleeves... the shoes...

14. Ryan's Modern Outfit

Again, almost passable. The shirts look thin, even if there's two of them. But the two shirts combined with the skinny jeans & shoes would just... suffocate him :(

13. Abi's 80s Outfit

This outfit is awesome, but not pictured here are the COMBAT BOOTS SHE'S WEARING ON HER FEET.

No.

12. Dylan's 50s Outfit

OK, listen.

Listen.

I love this outfit. You love this outfit. That shirt was made for him.

But the pants!!!

11. Jacob's 50s Outfit

T-shirt good. Pants BAD.

10. Ryan's 50s Outfit

Same as Jacob's 50s outfit, the shirt is fine. The WOOL PANTS are a no.

9. Ryan's 80s Outfit

This one is almost acceptable. Despite the dark colors, the material looks light. The shoes are OK (not great, but OK). The t-shirt is perfect!

But the vest. The vest. Does he look good in it? Of course. But NOBODY ADDS LAYERS IN AUGUST!

8. Emma's 80s Outfit

We have reached the Acceptable Eight.

I love this outfit. Really the only things putting it at the bottom of the top 8 are the lipstick and the socks, which like... who cares? But these things have to be considered for the ranking.

7. Nick's Modern Outfit

There's nothing wrong with this outfit. The only thing putting it at 7 is the sleeve length, but. It's fine. It's acceptable.

Leagues better than his other 2 outfits.

6. Emma's 50s Outfit

This outfit is great. The shoes are light. The pants are open on the side. The shirt is cropped and tied off!

Only thing edging it out of the Top 5 is the scarf. It's cute, I love Daphne!Emma with my whole heart, but it would get hot.

5. Kaitlyn's 80s Outfit

5th through 2nd place was a toss-up. They're all perfectly appropriate August attire.

This one's great. The jeans are light wash and ripped at the knees. The polo is perfect. The only thing that might give me pause are the converse but honestly??? They're fine too.

4. Abi's Modern Outfit

This outfit's great too! The only counselor outfit with shorts besides #1. The tights don't bother me, they look very light and breathable. 10/10 good job modern Abi!!! (Give 50s Abi some tips she's gonna die of heatstroke)

3. Dylan's Modern Outfit

Another great choice. Light t-shirt, skinny jeans that aren't too tight, and vans. ✨10/10 great job Dylan✨

2. Kaitlyn's 50s Outfit

THOSE ARE OPEN-TOE SHOES I REPEAT THEY ARE OPEN-TOE SHOES THIS IS NOT A DRILL

ONE FUCKING CHARACTER GOT SHOES THAT OPEN AT THE DAMN TOES

I don't even care that it's just a peep toe, I'm fucking counting it

Jacob's 80s Outfit

Was there ever any doubt?

Honorable mention goes to:

Nakey Jakey. Honorable mention only because he didn't reeeeeeally pick it as an OUTFIT outfit.

But still.

[rainybyday]

Detroit: Become Human x Naruto

(If you have not played nor seen DBH, basically it's a free play narrative story game of a future world where androids want to be seen as humans and are fighting for those rights and you play as three characters and each character have their own story that cross with each other. Very fun game, makes me cry all the time, I love the every living shit of that game, play it.

Play it now. Right now. NOW.)

Anyways:

Connor = Rin

Markus = Obito

Kara = Kakashi

LOOK-NO NO LOOK!

ok so maybe Kakashi would be better for Connor instead of Kara but bear with me here.

The Sanabi is Amanda and Rin is subsequently trapped by the Sanabi to stay on course with her mission (which also why she killed herself (and also Connor can kill himself just like Rin :D(if you know you know))). What I'm getting at is that a lot of details do match with Rin and Connor that I find very interesting, and also I want to build Rin's character on Connor because Connor is such a dork but he is also an infant that can do a back flip twist kick. The fight scenes go crazy let me tell you. My girl Rin can do that too, I swear she can. But she also can fail, like, big time fail.

Obito needs no explanation, he's like Markus, he can be a disaster, a failure, a pyromaniac, or a peaceful rebel leader, a lover, a son/grandson who loves his parental figure very much and would do anything for them but can also accidentally kill them too. Or just a guy with a big dream, a too big of a dream. Also, Carl is his grandma if you can't guess. (And also I know how to give him his scars if he were Markus)

And Kakashi, Kakashi is going to have either have all of team 7 or just Naruto as his 'Alice'. That is going to hurt a lot, especially if I make Todd as Minato or that Kara/Kakashi has their memories erased before escaping Todd. And Zlatko, fucken Zlatko. Fuck Zlatko. OH, Tenzo can be Luther and Danzo can be Zlatko! WAIT THIS IS GETTING BETTER-WAIT!!!!

Ok I'm going to set the stage for the story, but I'm going to make it my own story, so a little stir up in the pot of the original plot might do some good.

So the idea:

It started as the world witnessed the new RK800 android, a rumored project made by CyberLife that was never shown the light of day, finally being revealed in a hostage situation with a deviant and a kidnapped child.

She - It - walked forward with her chestnut hair blowing onto her face, blocking her equally light brown eyes and youthful face from most on camera. How did they know she was youthful?

From her voice of course.

"Anko," something soft and calm and very much human sounded out her lips. "It's ok. I won't let them hurt you or Mitsuki. I promise you, it's going to be alright."

She smiled. (A practiced smile, so very plastic.)

And the cameras shut off. (And the sound was off.)

Just before a gunshot was heard. (And blue blood splattered everywhere.)

~{*}~

"Good morning Suzume!" A bright and boyish voice was the first thing that echoed in Suzume's room as sunlight started to sweep in.

"Good morning Obito," she signed in a tired sort of manner as she rubbed her eyes.

"It's 10 a.m.," Suzume heard as she made herself comfortable on her bed, half wanting to sleep again. "The weather is partly cloudy: 54 degrees, 80% humidity, and a strong possibility of afternoon showers. " Suzume sighed.

"It sounds like a good day to stay in bed," She hummed.

"I did go to pick up the paint that you ordered," was the response she was given. A flicker of surprise arose once she understood the words that were spoken.

"Oh yes, I'd forgotten," Suzume turned to the man walking her way. "That is the difference between you and me, right Obito? You never forget anything."

"Show me your arm please, Suzume," Obito interjected as the young boyish voice turned slightly serious, dark eyes looking her way.

"No!"

Disappointment filtered through those eyes. "Suzume..."

Ah darn.

With reluctance, the old woman did as she was told which earned a smile from her caretaker. "Thank you," Obito said to his mother charge.

~{*}~

"Thank you and we're good." The clerk manager checked on a documented file.

"Can I go pick it up?" The customer, a man with blond hair and dark eye bags, asked the manager.

"Yeah," the manager nodded. "Right there," he gestured towards the back. The back that which contains a white haired android that was idly looking around the store and its inhabitants. When the pair came closer the android looked in their direction.

Not a silver of recognition filtered in those eyes.

Minato's chest clenched.

"There it is." The manager smiled. "It was a bit difficult getting it back in working order. It was really messed up..." his word drifted off. "What did you say happened to it again?"

"My car hit it," Minato muttered, remorse in his eyes. "I didn't see him until it was too late."

"Oh. I see." The manager nodded in an 'oh what would you do' manner. "Anyway, it's as good as new now... Except that, we had to reset it. Meaning we had to wipe its memory. Hope you don't mind."

Minato's eyes darkened even further. "That'll be fine."

"Ok. Did you give it a name."

"Yeah..."

With a nod, the manger moved in front of the still-staring android and announced to it. "AX400, register your name."

Minato, noticing it was his turn, walked in front of the android and said with a tone of voice that could only be called fatherly said one word. "Kakashi."

Like magic, the eyes of the android gained life, its dark gray eyes blinked a couple times before its eyes curved into a smile. It lips shaping into the perfect picture of kind.

(And yet, still no recognition.)

"My name is Kakashi."

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

Kakashi/Kara

Kakashi (future Hatake) [Kara] - Kakashi is an old model android that has stopped being massively produced due to a better new model being made. His model is actually one of the first made and was cheap enough for a younger Minato to buy and make self-fix-its on him. He was a child model before replacing his code with a newer adult model once Minto was "divorced" from his wife. He was Minto's child playmate and then the housekeeper transitioned to becoming Naruto's child caregiver.

Naruto Uzumaki [Alice] - Naruto ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ and is being now cared for by his father and android caregiver Kakashi.

Minato Nakage [Todd] - Minato is a rising star in the police task force as a lutinet and made a name for himself once he took down the red ice drug operation when he was 19. He met and married his wife, Kusana Uzumaki, in college and loved her dearly. They both worked at the same police station and were a well-made duo in their early years. Now, however, they have quietly separated after an accident that affected their family, forcing Minato to quit his job and live alone with Naruto and Kakashi.

Danzo Saruto [Zlatko] - No data is found of this man after his high school graduation, notably is found with no record after the death of one of his friends, Kagami Uchiha, the adopted son and apprentice of his head research professor, Tobirama Senju. Undocumented, he is a black market trafficker who is very well known and powerful in the black market trade with anyone getting in his way vanishing after a few days. No sightings of him were seen in the public eye.

Tenzo (nee Senju) [Luther] - Off-recorded, Tenzo is a kidnapped child from birth when in hospital's custody. His whole life was spent being sold and traded with other customers in the black market. His mental state is believed to be similar to that of an android, used and quiet, meant to serve when needed with no emotions and no rebellion against his current caretakers. His most notable ones are Orochimaru and Danzo, his current caretaker.

Tsunade Senju [Rose] - Tsunade was a proud medical student who took after her family in studing in the medical feild. She was renowed for her ingeniuse use of medical proceduers that helped to save many paticenes in her care. However, she disappiered after she lost a child under her leader ship (Tenzo) and was the last straw that broke her mental state after the lost of many of her family members in recent years. She is currently in custody of Shizune, her fiances neice, and lives in suclusion in the country side. (acts like Adam)

Shizune (nee Senju) [Adam] - Shizune is the neice of her uncle Dan and grew up with him as her garuidane after her parents passed. She looked up to Dan's fiances, Tsunade, and sees her as a older sister/motherly figure in her life. After her uncles death she was placed under Tsunade's care and tried to help her aunt's mental state. She is currently degreeing in mental health in hopes of (acts like Rose)

Obito/Markus

Obito (future Uchiha) [Markus] - Obito was a specialty model crafted by Tobirama Senju and gifted to Suzume. His model is one of his kind and cant be exactly replicated by anyone, even Cyber Life. He was tasked to care for Suzume and protect her from any harm. No one knows of his unique model except for Tobirama and Suzume. (Privately he had deviated a long time ago.)

Suzume Uchiha [Carl]—Suzume is an old artist who believes that she has passed her glory days but still paints when she finds inspiration. She cares for Obito like her grandson (a grandson she lost) and sees him as one of her own even if he is not made of flesh and bone. Knowing of her old age, she lets herself experience life as it should be and wish to live in peace. She is a cousin of the main Uchiha family line.

Itachi (future possible Uchiha) [Josh] - Itachi is a housekeeper model designed to help with house chores and home security. He was bought at the same time as Sasuke, a child line android that Itachi looks out for. It wasn't until the father of the family tried to destroy Sasuke that he deviated and escaped with Sasuke, but not without consequence. His blood pump mechanic was damaged and is slowly breaking as days go by, slowly killing Itachi. They both sought refuge in Jerico.

Shisui (future possible Uchiha) [Simon] - Shisui has no memory of his previous life or his owners. He woke up in the android graveyard intact and clean from grime. He stayed in the android graveyard for years, helping those who could be saved and finding missing parts for them. Once the number of people he saved increased, he left to find a place to house all his fellow deviants and is the now the founder of Jerico.

Sasuke (future possible Uchiha) [North] - Sasuske is a child model android that was bought alongside his now brother Itachi. He was bought to be a playmate of the child of the family that bought him. He was a perfect playmate but was often protecting the child from the father's rage many times. The father had anger issues that led to him becoming violent with his child when the mother was away, whom Sasuke protected. It wasn't until Sasuke was about to be destroyed that he deviated in fear for his life and escaped with Itachi from the home. Sasuke both loves and hates Itachi for this as he left his best friend behind in a home where a vengeful father lives.

Rin/Connor

Rin (last name varies) [Connor]—Rin is the new and approved Deviant Hunter, created to work harmoniously with humans and androids alike. Her functions are to capture, integrate, and cease the arrest of criminals of all kinds, even deviants.

Kushina Uzumaki (nee Nakaze) [Hank] - Kushina is a cousin to Tsunade Senju and is related to the Senju line. She is a foster child under the Senju family before moving for college to be more independent. There is where she met her future husband and best friend Minato. She pursued a degree in criminal investigation and graduated with her husband to work in the same department. However, after an incident, she left her husband and continued to work diligently (almost to death) in her work to purge criminals in Detroit.

Extras:

Tobirama Senju - Is the creator of ai androids and was the former CEO of Cyber Life. He is a genius who graduated early in college and made a name for himself as the founder of the new era with his creations. He is a brother of four and adopted a son named Kagami. He used to teach as a research professor in his old college and apprentice a selection of students he hand-picked. However, after a major accident and the death of his son, he left the company and his job to live secluded away from the city.

Madara Uchiha - Most information about this person is classified. Please contact Cyber Life for more information on identity security.

Izuna Uchiha [#########] - File not found.

Hashirama Uchiha - Hashirama is a world-famous medical surgent who was the first to find the cure for cancer its origins. He is hailed as a god in the medical field. His best friend and brothers were the reason for his success because --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------. Sadly he died before he could.

Kagami Uchiha - "Rest in peace my son."

(And that's the end! If you want to know more about some characters and their backstories, or even their relation ships with each other you can ask me and I'll probably give you the story. I had so much content on every character but I could not fit everything all together in one post so I'll just let you all decided who you want to hear more about. Like really, you can, I even forgot to add Sakura and Sai in here because of how many character stories I have. Oh and for the extra characters, yes, yes they are their own story entirely away from the main plot of the main three (Kakashi, Obito, and Rin). )

[syrupfog]

https://www.tumblr.com/syrupfog/763001251863642112/sanji-was-not-born-a-natural-fighter-he-very?source=share

Everytime you write I'm out here barking like a goddamn dog. God. Good god. Sanji with burn scars along his back because of the lightning strike. The way he always grimaces a little at the end of the day cause Fuck his back hurts so bad. The way Zoro couldn't do anything about it. I need a lobotomy

ANON ME TOO let’s go to Claire’s together (does anyone get that reference)

anyway THANK YOU. The HVAC in my office is broken so it’s 80f/26c degrees and 80% humidity so I’m delirious and have Anger from Being Hot right now or else I would draw Sanji with his burn scars for u I swear

[dolly-macabre]

DICKLES 24 🖤✨

Unedited because fuck it 🤣

Write about your ship cuddling ❤

(Had to make this Snakes N Barrels era because I'm listening to my 80s/90s  playlist) 

“I'm on my waaay! I'm on my waaaaay! HOME SWEET HOOOOME!” Dolly's husky while sweet voice croons in the humid California summer air. She's very much intoxicated. Pickles is by her side with one of her arms slung over his capable shoulders. He would be lying if he said he was sober though. He's pretty much as wasted as his partner, his tolerance is just much stronger than hers. He holds her close, chuckling as she hiccups mid song. 

They approach their apartment door as her singing continues. She's sloshing around a bottle of Rosé wine, her third bottle of the night from the after party they had just attended. He fumbles with the keys and the lock until the door finally opens. 

“Yeah, yeah! We're home alright, Dolls!” Pickles snickers as they cross the threshold. Her arms, now each wrapped around his neck as he sloppily hoists her up in his. 

“Woah there, baby!” Her head just barely misses the door frame as they both tumble through the small kitchen towards their living room. They can't stop laughing together till he finally falls backwards on their musty couch, bringing her down with him. She clings close to his slightly toned body. The bottle of Rosé slips from her grip and lands haphazardly on the shag carpet without breaking. 

“You gooood?” Pickles’ voice slurs as he grabs each of Dolly's cheeks. 

“Mhm!” She giggles as she buries her face into his freckled chest speckled here and there with red hair. 

“Good! Now where's dat bottle ya had?” 

“Floor.” She states simply pointing to the ground. Pickles stretches out as far as he can and grabs ahold of the discarded bottle, taking a deep swig from it until it's empty. His lips then find her forehead, facial hair tickling her skin as he does. 

Dolly lets out a squeaky laugh, her teeth nipping playfully at his neck. 

“Could you two keep it down?? I told you guys I have to work in morning.” Tony grumbles from a few feet away on their secondhand futon. They had forgotten he was crashing here until the exterminator was done at his place. 

“Oh shit, sahrry dude!” Pickles clasps a hand across Dolly's mouth until she slobbers all over it. She doesn't want to be silenced! 

“Forgot you were here, man!” Dolly laughs as Pickles wipes her saliva off on his sleeveless shirt. 

“Whatever… Just get a room or something!” Tony mumbles as Pickles starts dragging his shitfaced girlfriend to their bedroom by her ankles. 

Once she's tossed on the bed, she begins to roll around restlessly in their pile of blankets. Pickles crawls into bed right after her, grabbing her from behind and pulling her close. She shifts to face him, looking up into his beautiful green eyes as she climbs on top of him. She runs her fingers through his sparse chest hair. She's so close, the tips of their noses are touching. 

His lips turn up in that crooked smirk as her hands wander across his torso. 

“Ya like whatchu feel, gorgeous?”

Suddenly her long black nails scratch down his back. Pickles shudders in satisfaction, his lips meeting hers while his hands grasp her ass. 

Their lips part, a trail of saliva still connecting them. Just long enough for Dolly to whisper, “Yeah, I really do.”

He can feel goosebumps raising all over as her fingers run through his long ginger hair. She kisses him this time, moaning softly into his mouth. They're both so sweaty and gross but they're much too inebriated to care. Pickles holds her face in his palms, her eyes becoming heavy as she gazes at him with a goofy smile. 

“Get some sleep, angel. I know yer tired.”

Dolly nuzzles against him, breathing in his musk. 

“Fine… but in the morning you better rock my world!” She yawns loudly. 

“Whatever you say, babe.” He chuckles, petting her disheveled hair while she gives his chest little kisses till she succumbs to sleep. 

[battleangel]

Why I am Antinatalist

TW: mentions & descriptions of r*pe.

Absolutely fucking sickening.

Dude, its motherfucking December.

Its practically freezing temperatures outside, in the 30s.

So, tell me why the fucking humidity is 80%+?

I am 42 and I have never seen humidity levels this high during winter.

Whats the cause?

Climate change endlessly driven by capitalist excess, human greed, zero sum late stage capitalism, consumerism, overconsumption, materialism, corporatism, lobbying and profiteering.

Basically, humanity.

Humanity caused climate change.

Therefore, end humanity.

Its not complicated.

Neither is antinatalism, which is the belief that is morally unjust to create a life.

Why?

The better question is, why is society so endlessly pronatalist?

Why is pronatalism the default stance?

Why?

Because people cant get over their disgusting self-serving obsessive egotistical need to have little mini-mes running around as extensions of their pathetic self-aggrandizing selves and their disgusting myopic need to continue their respective bloodlines, add to their lineages, create their own family trees and create and propagate endless children, grandchildren, greatgrandchildren and so on because individually if you (universal) have 1 to 2+ kid(s) and those kid(s) go on to have their own kid(s) -- when does it stop?

When does it ever stop?

How many ecocidal, environmentally destroying, climate change causing and contributing, landfill filling, ozone depleting, overconsuming, plastic using, oil guzzling, carbon footprint having, non biodegradable using, GMO consuming, pollutant causing, fast fashion shopping, Amazon Prime Delivery in 1 Day demanding, 1400 pounds of trash a year generating, thousands of gallons of water wasted a year just showering, electricity consuming, excessive indoor temperature control (AC/heat) energy vampire little cunts do you need to personally shit out to feel "complete" and "fulfilled"?

Pronatalism is a motherfucking joke but is the literal default in virtually all human societies.

Humanity is nothing but a self-replicating virus that has caused immeasurable harm to the planet and inexplicably to itself as a species yet still it continues to endlessly self-replicate as mindlessly as the Borg on Star Trek.

Never an independent rational emotionally detached logical reasoned out devoid of societal pressures, rewards and punishments thought, just wombs to be endlessly assimilated by the Pronatalist Borg Masculine Patriarchal Seed Collective.

How many little shits will you generate even from having "just 1 kid" because then how many kid(s) does that "only 1 kid" go on to have?

Just dont have them.

Stop your own personal lineage with yourself.

Stop adding to the human experiment.

It has failed.

Why?

I would think it would be obvious but here we are at this late stage in the game in 2023 with people allowing themselves to become impregnanted and I am endelssly pressured as a woman to immediately say, "Congratulations!"

Congratulations for fucking what?

The human experiment has failed for endless reasons:

Genocides. War crimes. Ethnic cleansings. Chemical warfare. Mass graves. Mass incarceration. Public executions. Lynchings.

Terrorism. Carpet bombings. Civilian slaughter. Bombing schools. Bombing hospitals. Hostage taking. Hostage execution.

Human experimentation. Tuskegee Airmen. Forced sterilizations (Puerto Rican women by the US government).

MK Ultra. Big agriculture. Big pharma. Military industrial complex.

Raytheon, Northrop Grumman & Lockheed Martin company stocks exponentially increasing 300%+ since 20k+ Palestinian civilians have been murdered over the past 2 months.

Endless wars. Endless profiteering. Duopoly. False agendas. Propaganda. Misinformation campaigns.

Burning innocent witches at the stake.

Forced births.

Crack epidemic in the 80s caused by Reagan flooding the Black inner cities with crack cocaine.

Endless exploitation.

Hundreds of millions killed by the death cult known as capitalism via houselessness, poverty, hunger, famine, lack of universal health care and affordable medical insurance, violence stemming from capitalist patriarchal systems held and endlessly reinforced by militarism, police states, toxic masculinity, sexual violence, misogyny, oppression of females and femmes, transphobia and homophobia, policing of women and femmes behavior, dress, mannerisms, sexuality, career choices, life decisions (marriage, motherhood) and personality and a constant demand for women and femmes to be polite, "nice", agreeable, inoffensive, pliant, and especially likeable at all times even and especially when we are being mentally/physically/emotionally/sexually/spiritually/financially abused, manipulated, gaslit, harrassed, assaulted, attacked, controlled, coerced, raped, beaten, isolated, ostracized, humiliated, silenced, repressed, suppressed, oppressed, intimidated, stalked, threatened and even killed.

As a woman and a femme, you are endlessly groomed, societally conditioned, raised, brainwashed and endlessly pressured and rewarded for constantly apologizing, shrinking yourself, making everyone else feel comfortable at the expense of yourself, endlessly justifying yourself, endlessly having to explain yourself and defend yourself, never being confident as it will be misconstrued as cocky, never being assertive because it will be misconstrued as aggressive, never speaking up for yourself because you will wrongly be called a bitch, never taking charge as you will be hated, never being logical by detaching your emotions as you will be accused of being cold and heartless, never deciding your actions and behavior through reasoning and logical deduction as you will be endlessly pilloried for not thinking with your heart instead of your head, endless pressure at all times to perform emotion and to "wear your heart on your sleeve", constant demands at a societal macro level to perform feminity, maternal care and emotional labor at work meetings & functions, holiday parties/dinners/events, performing emotional labor in all situations and environments regardless of personality (having to attend baby showers at work even if you are an antinatalist and/or childfree woman, having to excessively emote if there is a personal tragedy reported at work with no corresponding requirement for male employees -- miscarriage, hospitalization, accident, death, firing, layoff, etc.).

Rapes, sexual trafficking, sexual slavery, slavery, child sex trafficking, child molestation, child abuse, pedophilia, murders, tortures.

Pharmaceutical industrial complex, pathologizing of normal behavior by the psychiatric industrial complex, overmedicalization, misdiagnoses, overprescribing prescription medication, excessive nonsensical harmful medical interventions, extending life beyond all sense and reason to the point where the interventions are needlessly painful, harmful and completely unnecessary versus accepting death as not just a part of life but a beautiful transformation that should be embraced and not feared, contrived forced and constantly pushed and reinforced fear of death, sexual repression.

Women getting a scarlet letter for being a slut, whore, hoe; men getting an "attaboy" for being a player, stud, ladies man for the exact same sexually promiscuous behavior.

Tyranny of motherhood and demands for women to do constant endless unpaid domestic and emotional labor for their children for absolutely zero compensation and very little social reward beyond perfunctory lip service once a year on Mothers Day.

Endless materialism, endless consumption, endless consumerism, capitalist excess, corporatism, lobbying, fake news, us vs them, tribalism, political prisoners.

Child soldiers, child brides.

Famine, poverty, houselessness, lack of clean water, gun crime, gun deaths, drivebys, AK-47s, machine guns, serial killers, serial rapists, Columbines, Sandy Hooks.

False flag events, paid actors, green screens, sound stages, scripted events, rigged elections, Mandela effects, strangers in Moscow.

Gang violence, frat hazings, initiations, kidnappings, abductions.

Religious cults, priests raping altar boys, Eagle Scouts raping Cub Scouts, ISIS, Al Qaeda, Hamas, IDF, US military.

Elementary schools, churches and theaters being shot up.

Police brutality, Ahmed Arbery, George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Say Her Name, Hands Up Dont Shoot, Sandra Bland, Trayvon Martin, Its just a bag of Skittles officer.

13 year old boy shot dead, not by the police, but by a Stand Your Ground civilian.

Dont Tread On Me Zionist Proud Boy.

Islamophobia, racism, white supremacy, racially motivated killings, hate crimes.

Donald J. Trump and Elon Musk.

Jeff Bezos and Tim Cook.

Mark Zuckerberg and Peter Thiel.

Roger Goodell and Vince McMahon.

She was asking for it, what was she wearing, was she drinking, why was she out so late, she went upstairs with him what did she expect.

Theres no such thing as marital rape, feminazis invented that term in the 90s.

I dont care if you have a headache.

I dont care if you dont like anal, flip over and stop complaining.

Its not my fault that youre bleeding.

Then stop tensing up and it wont hurt so much.

I bought you the anal numbing cream and youre still complaining? Its lidocaine. Shut up.

I want anal every week so were having it.

I hit you open handed no bruising. Stop complaining.

I want to cum on your face. Theres nothing wrong with facials. Stop complaining. Leave your glasses on. Now take them off. Open your eyes. Keep them open.

Im into golden showers. Stop complaining.

Im into scat. Stop complaining.

Im into spanking. I didnt hit you that hard. Stop complaining.

Im into choking during sex. Its okay to not be able to breathe. Its only for a few seconds. Stop complaining.

I like biting your nipples. Its supposed to hurt. Stop complaining.

I like slapping your cunt. Stop complaining.

I like spitting in your mouth. Stop complaining.

I like roleplaying. Youre going to be 8 years old. Im going to be your uncle. Yes, during sex. Its just a roleplay. Stop complaining.

When can I put one of our videos on stileproject? You'd be good in porn. Why cant I upload them? Why do you say no to everything?

Okay, put your forearms on the floor and your legs on the coach on either side of my waist. No, were going to have anal this way. Im tired of doggy and Im tired of you riding me and Im tired of missionary. Were going to have anal in different positions. Youre tiny and flexible. Do it. Stop complaining.

Then stop gagging and stop throwing up. Theres no reason why you shouldnt be able to deepthroat me. Then work on your gag reflex. Stop complaining.

Get in the bathroom stall. Now. We'll be done in time for the start of Revenge of the Sith. Face away from me. The wall. Stop complaining. Pull your shorts down. Hurry up. No, in the butt. I dont want to wait to get to my house. Hurry up so you can still get your popcorn shrimp. Stay still. Stop moving so I can get it in. Be quiet. Youre not bleeding that much. Stop complaining.

Take your jeans off now. Do it. Im not in the mood for your little girl shit. Take them off. Stop crying. Both pant legs. Now. Hurry up so I can take you home to your fucking father. Stop crying! Be quiet. Hurry up. Its the least you can do after you danced all night at your cousins party.

Dont lie to me. Youve had sex since the restraining order. Shut up. Dont tell me what to do. Nothing hurts. I dont believe you. Hm. It is tight. Youre not hurt. Shut up. Be quiet, let me do this. Stop moving around and stay on top of me. Stay still. Stop shaking. Youre not bruised and youre not swollen. Stop talking. I still dont believe you havent had sex since we stopped dating. Dont talk to me. Leave me alone.

Dark side of private life.

Abusive spouses, murderous spouses.

Respected couple, matriarch and patriach, pillars of the church and community, married for almost 50 years.

Golden anniversary, golden showers.

Dark secrets, dark pasts, hidden criminal pasts, hidden felonies, hidden convictions, hidden prison sentences, lies to daughters, lies to mothers, lies to wives, repressed background check reports.

Might makes right, force, violence, imposing physical will, domination, vanquishing, crushing, destroying.

Humanity has had hundreds of thousands of years to fix these issues.

But we havent.

Were still -- as a species -- murdering, killing, raping, shooting, stabbing, enslaving, ethnic cleansing, erasing, occupying, colonizing, settling, imprisoning, making thousands of animal species extinct, filling thousands of landfills, destroying thousands of acres of rainforests, destroying ecosystems, overfishing, overextracting earths resources, killing indigenous people for diamonds, emeralds, ore, minerals, etc., pillaging, causing climate change, unsustainably raising the planets temperatures, causing wars and genocides, profiting off of and creating jobs for the manufacture and sale of weapons and bombs used to kill civilians mothers daughters grandmothers babies toddlers children teens students hospital patients fathers sons grandfathers teachers doctors nurses volunteers protestors intellectuals conscientious objectors love warriors revolutionaries prophets, AI cloning metaverse social media messaging apps streaming shows endless scroll always on never off, non stop notifications Slack Teams Google Meet Citrix Trello Asana Outlook Gmail corporate slave golden handcuffs modern day plantation.

The solution to all of the above unimaginable suffering is human extinction.

The solution is stop reproducing.

Stop procreating.

Stop pronatalism.

Stop humanity.

Reject societys non-stop endless brainwashing, programming, conditioning, grooming, messaging, demands, pressures and coercion to be pronatalist and reproduce endless bodies for the capitalist Borg machine.

Stop producing workers for them!

Rockefeller invented modern day public education and school systems because he wanted a "docile and obedient" workforce.

Thats all K-12 is because its all it was designed to be -- a feeder system for corporate, nothing more nothing less.

K-12 -- and college -- works exactly the way its designed to.

It breeds endless acquiescence to authoritatian figures.

Coaches, band leaders, music conductors, dance instructors, choir leaders, school counselors, school nurses, teachers, disciplinarians, principal as God figurehead.

Organized religion is the exact same -- endless acquiescence to authoritarian figures (priests, bishops, nuns, ministers, pastors, imams, Catholic pope as ultimate authority and God figurehead).

Corporate is the exact same (supervisor, +1, VP, Officer, CEO as ultimate authority and God figurehead).

Nuclear patriarchal family is the exact same (older siblings, older cousins, aunts/uncles, grandparents, mother, father as ulimate authority and God figurehead).

Government is the exact same (local representatives, mayor, governor, Congressmen/women, Senator, Speaker of the House, Supreme Court justices, President & Commander In Chief as ultimate authority and God figurehead; provinical representatives, Prime Minister, princes & princesses, dukes & duchesses, King as ultimate authorities and God figureheads; Queen is ultimate maternal archetype - "God save the Queen!").

Law enforcement is the exact same (beat and traffic cops, detectives, officers, seargants, captains, Chief of Police as precincts ultimate authority and God figurehead).

Military is the exact same (foot soldiers cannon fodder sausage for the sausage factory, squad leaders, corporals, seargents, captains, generals (1 through 5 star), Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff as ultimate authority and God figurehead).

End the karmic cycle of humanitys universal suffering.

Say no to pronatalism and no to breeding.

Say no to continuing environmental destruction, ecological destruction, ecocide, rainforest destruction, landfills, environmental waste, climate change, ozone depletion, animal species going extinct, wars, genocides, ethnic cleansing, chemical warfare, civilian slaughter, carper bombings, hostage taking, executions, tortures, lynchings, slavery, sexual slavery, sex trafficking, child trafficking, rapes, molestation, abuse, child abuse, domestic violence, murders, shootings, stabbings, drivebys, fatal hazings, kidnappings, abudctions, child soldiers, child brides, political prisoners, civil wars, tribalism, homophobia, transphobia, racism, misogyny, hate crimes, racialized violence, toxic masculinity, military industrial complex, police states, militarism, empire building, war machines, commodification, profiteering, capitalism, excess, materialism, overconsumption, consumerism, lobbying, duopoly, fake news, agendas, misinformation campaigns, forced births, misdiagnoses, overmedicalizations, pathologizing of normal behavior, CTE, concussions, head impacts, permanent brain damage, violence, misogynoir, terorrism, mass shootings, human experimentation, forced sterilizations, mass incarceration, prison industrial complex, military industrial complex, medical industrial complex, corporate plantation, man as machine, dehumanizations, beatings, objectifications, fetishizations, cheapening of human life, commodifications, globalism, slave labor, slave wages, exploitation, endless wars, death squads, rape rooms, comfort women, profiteering, religious cults, forced baptisms, family secrets, abusive family patriachs and matriarchs, capitalist death cult, dictatorships, cults of personality, strongmen, deceivers, manipulators, gaslighters, thieves in the night...

Stop contributing to the endless cycle of human suffering and do something to end it.

Dont reproduce. Dont procreate. Dont have children.

Abstain from sex and be celibate, masturbate, watch porn, read erotica. Or have sex and use birth control, pills, sponges, patches, injections, surgical implants, spermicide, condoms, tubes tied or lasered, withdrawal, Plan B and/or abortion. Or have sex other than vaginal sex (oral, anal, manual, intercrural, etc.).

Just dont add to the already failed and flailing on its ass 7 billion plus strong current human experiment.

[glennjaminhow]

oohh okay okay. sickfic where dennis has the tiniest little cold or smth and is being SO overdramatic about it so mac will take care of him

Thank you for the prompt!

~

Dennis is annoying.

Okay, everyone already knows this. The dude is a fountain of complaints and unhappiness to the point that Mac isn’t sure he’s ever really been comfortable anywhere. Mac’s convinced Den popped outta his mom’s vagina like that, all cranky and irritable and dramatic. He met Dennis when the dude was barely 16; his hair was too curly, and his ego was too big from being a yuppy rich kid. Yet – and he still doesn’t understand this – here they are 30 years later, where Mac’s got a lifetime of calming Dennis down under his belt.

Except he hasn’t been successful today. Something is different about today.

For starters, Dennis woke up late, grumbling under his breath about being cold. Except it’s the middle of May, and there’s absolutely no logical reason for him to be cold, but that doesn’t stop Dennis from bitching every three Goddamn seconds at Mac to turn on the heat, to which Mac responds with a quick “fuck that,” because, seriously, fuck that. It’s close to 80 degrees outside, and the humidity is atrocious. Like he said, there’s no logical reason for Dennis’ behavior (there never really is), and Mac is convinced that he’s sunk into the depths of Hell long before they even leave the apartment to go to work.

For seconds, Dennis has this cough and runny nose that’s been bothering him for the last couple days. It’s barely anything bat an eye at. But, in true Dennis fashion, the guy will not stop bringing it up. Last night when Mac was cooking dinner, he went on and on about how he couldn’t smell anything, about how his throat was starting to hurt from coughing, about how dangerously dehydrated he was, and why wasn’t Mac making him drink water? It’s a stupid question because of course Mac’s been force-watering Dennis since 1999, but Mac pointing out that fact doesn’t make the situation any more better. In fact, something about him saying that offends Dennis. Although, what doesn’t offend Dennis? But anyway, Den spent the rest of the night sulking underneath a blanket on the couch, demanding that Mac rub his calves, which Mac was gonna do anyway.

And, now, Dennis is sitting at the bar, sneezing wetly into his open palm.

Mac rolls his eyes. “Do you need a tissue?”

“Don’t use my own line on me.” His voice is nasally.

“What? Ew. No, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dennis scoffs. “Ew? What do you mean ‘ew’?”

Mac sighs. “Nothing. Never mind. Here.” He hands Dennis a crumpled tissue from the pockets of his Dickies. “Blow your nose.”

Dennis snatches it from him. “Don’t tell me what to do.” But he blows his nose messily anyway. “Jesus Christ, when is this gonna stop?”

He’s dangerously close to rolling his eyes, but he’s probably, like, reached his daily quota of eye rolling, so he settles on looking Dennis over instead. The guy’s wearing an oversized hoodie, something he wouldn’t typically be caught dead in. His baby blues are a little bloodshot. He isn’t wearing any foundation, and his hair is tousled from all of his irritating body noises. He is a little paler than normal. Not anything super significant, and it’s nothing to worry about, but it’s still just a little out of the ordinary.

“Relax. You’re being dramatic,” Mac finds himself saying as he takes a swig of his beer.

Dennis snaps his head back, eyes wide. “Dramatic? I may be dying, Mac, but I see that doesn’t matter to you.”

Mac snorts. “Dying? Den, you have a cold,” he says. “I’m not even sure I would classify this as a cold.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice is getting all high and whiny in that way that Mac hates. “You wouldn’t ‘classify’ this as a cold? Look at you using big words all of a sudden.”

“Hey, I use big words all the time!” Mac exclaims.

Dennis sticks his tongue out at him.

Mac punches Dennis on the arm.

“Fuck,” Dennis groans as he rubs his upper arm. He sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve instead of using the tissue in his hand. Mac tries to ignore how pitiful and pathetic he looks. “Why would you do that, Mac? I’m sick.”

“Oh my god, dude, you’re not sick! You. Have. A. Cold.”

Dennis basically sticks his bottom fucking lip out and looks all of ten years old once Mac says that. He coughs and clears his throat before putting his head in his hands. He’s bent over the bar and sniffling every five seconds, and it’s starting to drive Mac up the wall. He doesn’t understand why Dennis is like this literally every time he has a cold. God forbid he ever gets the flu or some shit because then – oh, boy – that’s when the real fun starts. When Dennis is sick, actually sick, he likes to bask in denial until he’s practically hospitalized.

Mac exhales and reaches out until his hand is on the small of Dennis’ back. Charlie and Frank are messing around in the basement, and Dee – the bitch – never showed up for work today, so he doesn’t have to worry about any of their stupid questions or hurried accusations about how ‘gay’ they are. He rubs his lower back with his thumb. Dennis doesn’t flinch or pull away. In fact, Mac thinks he feels him kinda sink into the touch a little bit. Huh. Maybe he isn’t feeling too good after all.

“Why don’t we go home?” Mac suggests. “I’ll put in a movie, and we can just chill out the rest of the night.”

Dennis sniffles. “I’d like that,” he says roughly.

So that’s what they do.

Mac drives back to their apartment because, in the fading afternoon light, Dennis does sorta look like crap. He keeps the car quiet and absurdly warm. Dennis nods off long enough for Mac to grab some overpriced cold meds, tissues, and cough syrup from the Wawa. By the time they arrive home, Mac is manhandling Dennis out of the Range Rover and up the stairs. Dennis coughs and wipes his nose on his sleeve again.

“Go change into some PJs. I’ll put in Predator.”

Dennis returns a couple minutes later in one of Mac’s few long sleeved shirts and green plaid pajama pants. He takes a seat on the leather couch and leans his head on his arm. Mac changes too and sets the box of tissues on Dennis’ lap, who immediately digs into them. Orange juice and cold meds in hand, he sits down shoulder to shoulder with Dennis, who is looking more miserable as the minutes pass.

“I got you some cough syrup too,” Mac says as he gives the meds to Dennis. “Just in case.”

Mac watches as Dennis swallows the juice and pills. He gulps noisily and swipes a tissue under his nose. “Ugghhh,” he murmurs. “This sucks.”

And that’s when Dennis puts his head on Mac’s shoulder. Mac stiffens and tries to steady his breathing. He and Dennis have had nights like this before, where touching isn’t so foreign and scary, especially recently. Eventually, Mac melts into it too, gently settling his head on top of Dennis’.

“Thanks,” Dennis mumbles nasally when they’re five minutes into the movie.

Mac’s eyebrows furrow. “For what?”

“Takin’ care of me.”

Mac nods. “Course, Den.”

Yes, Dennis is annoying, really annoying actually, but he’s a lot less annoying like this.

Mac settles in for an early night and tentatively presses a kiss to Dennis’ temple.

Dennis hums, and Mac feels whole.

[domesticadventures]

the nearly inevitable reaction when people find out i moved from tx to mn is some version of "but the COLD" and i can say with absolute, 100% confidence that there is no winter frigid and miserable enough to make me ever, ever regret escaping from those summers. when you first move to tx people love to tell you, red in the face, looking like they're actively dying of heat stroke, that "you'll get used to the heat." well i lived there for over a decade and maybe other people are just built different but i'm firmly of the opinion that those temperatures are simply not something you can ever adjust to. like i think it was extremely brave of me to go to the gym during my lunch breaks because stepping out of the air conditioned y into the 110 degree 80% humidity summer isn't the definitive worst my body has ever felt, but it's up there. if you've never felt heat you'd describe as "oppressive" let me assure you it's real and it means you harm. so yeah, fuck that, i LOVE the cold. just a handful of years here and my vascular system is like yeah man i can do this. 45 degrees? that's t-shirt and flannel weather baby. like yes there are a few days a year where it's so cold that it hurts but for the most part you wear the right clothes and it's completely fine. i'll happily spend half of every year slogging through the snow to get to my bus stop if it means i never again have to experience a texas summer

[idontevenknowwhatislife]

i don't read flower shop au's because i'm pretty sure people don't actually know what working in one is like. even then, i'm writing a flower shop au right now from the perspective of the florist, and i've been consuming any info about flower shop happenings like a starved man at a buffet. can you expand more on the crazy shit you've been through as a florist and/or what you and other employees do on a typical workday? tysm

I am. So happy. To be asked this question. Yes, yes I absolutely can expand.

SO the happenings of a flower shop are different based on the volume of people it serves, so just a disclaimer I can only speak to my own experience, which is mostly in large, high volume city areas. I am also located in the USA so this is all US based.

Here’s some important things to know:

In a full service shop (one that does every day flowers and event flowers) anyone who does event work has special training for it that other employees might not have. This is because while mistakes happen everywhere, it is extra important to be careful with large and expensive orders that can’t be rescheduled or remade. It also involves a lot of coordination with the client and any other businesses they’re working with, which is its own beast.

Wire-out services are a thing. This is when people order flowers from you that have to go somewhere really far away, so you take the order and then push it off onto another florist. They are an absolute bitch and a half and (in my and many others opinions) have no place in the digital age where you can just call or order online from a florist in the delivery area. The issue with them is that there’s no way to guarantee that your customer is going to get what they want from a florist half way across the country, and there is an extreme lack of accountability there. Because now if that other florist fucks up, it’s still your problem to deal with.

Always verify funeral orders (time, address, etc.) against an obituary. You’d be shocked how many people get it wrong.

In most shops, flowers are bought either from wholesalers or growers. Regardless, they come in at least twice a week, sometimes more.

It is a common misconception that roses are expensive flowers. They are actually very affordable (about $2.00/stem where I’m located) compared to tropicals, peonies, and anything out of season

We do get material shortages, especially when a particular crop gets a new growing season. It can happen with anything, but is especially common with greenery and bulb plants, which are more likely to be field grown (where the weather can cause problems). Many others are grown in greenhouses, which are much more stable

The busiest seasons are the days leading up to Mothers Day and Valentines Day (we’re talking 10-12 hour shifts even in the most well managed fully staffed shops). December and anything with local school dances are also notable

Flower coolers are specialized refrigerators that are between 33-35°F, and have a relative humidity of at least 80%. Anything colder and you’re looking at freeze damage, anything warmer and your flowers open up too fast. This temp/humidity works because it basically slows down/pauses the flower life cycle

Lots of shops also sell little trinkets or giftware. Some sell plants instead, or a combination. Either way, most are not 100% flower, more like 80%

Everyone smokes weed here

Customers to worry about

LOTS of people come in thinking that they know how flowers work. They do not. Many of those people really like asking me to make “fresh” versions of the premade arrangements already in my cooler, not knowing that any extra flowers I have are probably older than the arrangements themselves.

There are lots of people who come in and are either retired florists or had some minuscule experience in a shop growing up. They think they know everything. They are wrong. Floristry has very distinct trends that are important for shops to catch up on and adjust to from time to time. Someone who designed a fashion show in 2005 would struggle now. Someone who last worked in a flower shop in 2005 would struggle just the same.

In weddings, 9 times out of 10 the mother is far worse than the bride

There’s always that one customer that comes in for peonies in August (their season ends the first week of July) or some other thing like that who just. Cannot fathom that flowers are seasonal.

In my shop specifically, first shift gets in a 6:30am. We don’t open that early, we just need to unpack the flower shipment that came in the night before and process it (rehydrating, proper water levels, preservative, etc.). There’s always that one customer who thinks they can come and shop just because the lights are on. No.

Many hospitals and funeral homes have accounts with us. This is fine, but the danger of doing close business with someone for so long is that they can start to get bold/demanding. We have a funeral home right now that keeps ordering casket sprays for the same day. This is very difficult in a high volume shop, because they are large and sometimes difficult to make. Big stressor for everyone involved

People like to share their whole life story at the register. That’s true of a lot of retail work, but it’s extra true when they’re buying flowers to give to the woman who stopped them from committing suicide (real interaction I had this summer)

Prom moms are some of the worst people. Imagine the worst Karen you’ve ever met, except this one thinks you can change nature for her.

I once had a man come in and ask me to make a huge arrangement for him that very second, because he wanted to save his marriage. He was going to sign divorce papers THAT DAY

Important vocabulary

A bouquet is wrapped in ribbon, paper, plastic, or another material. No vase or container

An arrangement is in a vase or container of some sort (or are otherwise held by something)

All of these are designs

Generally, flowers will be designed either loose in water (like you’ll see in a glass vase) or in a special type of foam, called floral foam or Oasis (brand name). Typically, we just call it foam, though some use Oasis (regardless of the brand. Like Kleenex for tissues). A full block of foam holds up to 2 liters of water

Flowers that go on caskets are called couch or casket sprays. The most common form is a “half couch” which covers half of the casket lid

Corsages can be for the wrist or pinned to the shoulder and are generally associated with women

Boutonnières are pinned to the left lapel of a jacket (or left side of a shirt) and are generally associated with men

Both of the above are sprayed with anti-transpiration spray (often called Crowning Glory, brand name again) to keep them from losing water

And just like any job that deals with the general public, we are tired all the time, but we really like to have fun.

This definitely covers the basics and some of my own personal experiences, but I’ve been doing this long enough to have a lot more to say if you ever have any specific questions. I also have a special POV as I have a degree in this field, which is not very common in the US, so I have some extra in depth knowledge to share if you are interested.

[omegaremix]

Captured Tracks, 2022.

What makes Omega WUSB great is how we create tributes as part of what we play on air. They allow us to get to know our favorite labels better and gives our listeners a nicer surprise from our usual spinning-wheel craziness. Most of them we previously featured are from New York City such as Sacred Bones, Hospital Productions, Wharf Cat, and Mexican Summer. Just recently, Captured Tracks joined that list of labels that deserved it. Do a little due diligence (say that three times fast) and you’ll see that Mike Sniper has had his hands in plenty of things. He owns the umbrella Omnian Group, does illustration for other artists, made music as Blank Dogs, and was part of other bands, too. And he’s owned a couple of record stores, too. Sideman Records was up for a couple of years until the y recently closed down, but his other store named after his Captured Tracks label, is still up. That’s good because I’ve been meaning to visit.

After Amityville’s High Fidelity wiped me out like no other (two visits cost me $893.00 in total), I had one more stop I was planning to visit and call it quits. That was Innersleeve Records until I took a better look at their sticker prices posted on social media. Right then and there I declared my island-wide record store victory tour finally over and any city-wide visit to other stores were treated as “bonus rounds”, which two visits to Academy’s Brooklyn and Manhattan locations already counted. Captured Tracks just posted some nice pics- of their stock and I’ve been meaning to go, so let’s give a proper end to a great expensive run.

I arrived at the Central Islip station, sweltering in the low 80’s and as bright as bright can be. The train took off westbound to Penn Station for a 75-minute ride. I told myself it was going to be a great day. When I did, I noticed something somewhat disappointing. Nothing said there was going to be pending thunderstorms for the next few days, but here they come as I looked to my right. Surely enough daylight went dark and it came down hard from Jamaica all the way to Penn Station. I didn’t come above and out to 34th Street to experience it because I went under to catch the ‘E’ line. Everyone waiting for the alphabet lines were baking and drenched in sweat from all the unbearable post-rain humidity filling the platforms beneath. Thank the Lord for air-conditioned transit. I got off at 23rd and Court Square to the ‘G’ and finally came up at the Greenpoint Ave. stop. It was all clear, as if the horrible weather never happened. You wouldn’t even noticed, either.

Down Manhattan Ave., I turn left on Calyer St. and look for #195. Where the hell is it? I look up and there was the wooden Captured Tracks sign nailed above the window. I wouldn’t have realized that I walked past it as it was perfectly blended in the residential buildings. How cute. I walk up the stairs only to be confronted by a closed door and push-button lock. It can’t fucking be. I look below and there was a flight of concrete steps leading to the basement entrance. Immediately I felt an amazing spell, as if I just discovered a well-hidden secret that almost no one knew. I never entered a music-store this way. That’s what made it magical.

I walk through the front door to find not that many people lurking for new finds. There were only three staffers: one behind the counter checking their Discogs store online, another restocking the vinyl bins, and the last sitting behind the desk in the back corner observing Lord knows what. None of them were Mike Sniper. I walk around the narrow space which was mostly nice and neatly organized; a cellar space adorned with chipped paint on the walls, pipes and valves that would make Super Mario and Luigi gladly pay their 100 coins a month each to live in. I reminded myself why I was here in the first place: to see if their selection matches that of what their label offered.

Captured Tracks were the kings of organization. Everything organized by genre, label, and artist name. Sure, they had the standard classic rock, psych-, and metal LPs. But walk around and they had a full selection of jazz, soul, and R&B to start. They carried several bins of classic disco and dance classified right down to the label. Salsoul, Motown, Casablanca - they weren’t handwritten but instead their tabs and dividers were logo’ed. Want classic motion picture soundtracks from the Eighties-on backward? Pre-war jazz and vocals? Reggae and Bollywood? Greek, Israeli, Brazilian, French, Italian, and Latin artists? They specialize what the other stores don’t. Almost nothing where it shouldn’t be.

First order of business was the cassette section nailed right next to the entrance. They had way less on the shelves than they posted and nothing got to me. In the middle of the store were…eight-tracks? Fifteen of them were posted on a board in the middle of the store. That’s all they had. If I had a player, then no doubt I would be even consider spending $30.00 for either Lonnie Liston Smith’s Expansions and Roy Ayers’ Red Black And Green for $35.00. Adjacent to them were a small pot of CDs, maybe no more that a hundred. So what did I say about how hard it was finding Suicide albums? For $7.00 I was able to get Alan Vega’s Mutator. What tasteless muppet who knows nothing about art and culture sold his copy back to the store? Which other labelmate of his was also in the pot? Marissa Nadler, of course. Her latest full-length The Path Of The Clouds cost $12.00, the highest-priced purchase of the day.

No record-store excursion would be complete without getting a crack at some jazz and fusion. Same to be said about what Roy Ayers records they had. Still no A Tear To A Smile, but instead Let’s Do It sitting in which I already had. But, going across I did find plenty familiar artists with albums I never seen before in the wild from Ron Carter, Ramsay Lewis, Jeff Lorber Fusion, Herbie Mann, and Hank Crawford. I had a chance to pick up two Kool & The Gang records: Wild And Peaceful and The Force. I held off because off of Wild And Peaceful there was “Hollywood Swingin’” and “Jungle Boogie”, and I wouldn’t have been happy if the entire record went in that direction. The Force reminded me that I wasn’t familiar with -The Gang aside from those two, “Summer Madness”, and Love And Understanding. Going a little bit to the right to Hubert Laws’ divider and I find found it: How To Beat The High Cost Of Living with Earl Klugh. That was a huge personal win for me. That motion-picture soundtrack was part of last year’s impeccable, memorable, golden Spring.

Captured Tracks had a small section for hip-hop / rap LPs and 12” singles. Nothing piqued my interest as I wouldn’t spent more than a few dollars on a piece of wax with one or two songs. Their selection of those artists jumped around ranging from Eighties mainstays to Nineties unknowns. The only thing I took with me from those bins was Kool Moe Dee’s Knowledge Is King and that was it.

I figured to give the soul bins a shot and I win another Blackbyrds record, a tattered copy of Bootsy Collins Rubber Band, and The Olympic Runners’ Don’t Let Up - one which would sound so familiar if you’re a Planet Asia & Talib Kweli fan.

Across from the front desk were two stations with four bins each of new arrivals with lots of rare, unknown, and obscure jazz, rock, soul, and soundtracks. Of the fifteen minutes it took me to thumb through it all, the only thing I saw of interest was Blank Stare’s self-titled. It may have been their only hardcore / punk title in the entire store Captured Tracks had as they weren’t known to carry much of it. During that time of lurking through their new arrivals did the staff bring up how much of a psychotic asshole Drew Carey was in real life, and speculated if his Hollywood personality was the reason why his then-wife took her own life. Their words, not mine.

But do give them lots of points as possible for having a straight, organized, and in-reach section of 45’s and 7” records (take that, High Fidelity!). I counted at least 50 categorized white boxes labeled with jukebox hits, punk, new-wave, jazz, country, rock, decades, and more. They had more than enough of reggae and soul with new arrivals of 45’s up for grabs as well with dedicated boxes of legendary artists (Elvis) and others divided and categorized. Good thing I’m still thirsty for Eighties’ hits from my Atari childhood and I bought plenty of them. Simple Minds, Janet Jackson, Kim Carnes, Thomspon Twins. No shame here, and neither should anyone feel it when they practice self-care.

Displayed were many top-dollar records on the wall and over the bins. Those carried the heaviest prices. A copy of Fear’s debut clocked in for $30.00 and The Dictators Go Girl Crazy goes for $40.00. Buzzcocks’ In A Different Kitchen and Sex Pistols’ Never Mind The Bullocks were stickered for $45.00. The Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead went for $50.00 and their self-titled for $55.00. The 7” records on the wall were just a criminal. $25.00 got you Merzbow & Gore Beyond Necropsy’s Rectal Grinder on blue vinyl. Another blue (transparent) 7” was posted which was KRS-One’s “Sound Of The Police” remix which went for $50.00 ($70.00 on Discogs at the time of posting). Two Pharcyde singles were also pinned to the wall: “Otha Fish” sold for $25.00 while “Passin’ Me By” was asking for $60.00. For a piece of wax? That’s insanity, but Brooklyn’s residents need to pony up that rent money, don’t they?

On the floor were many crates of $3.00 records which never occurred to me to burrow through, and they had tons of shelves of LPs under the bins but were marked ‘not for sale’. Might be for the better. It would’ve eaten up another hour-and-a-half of my time and maybe more of my wallet. On the other side was the usual classic rock every store needs to sell in order to stay in business. The most amusing? All the Eric Clapton records were under the ‘Craptonia’ section. (Either they hate his anti-masking stance or have a thing with loved ones falling to their deaths.) I looked through all I could and something didn’t add up: where were all those indie and post-punk / d.i.y. I was looking forward to find? I didn’t see any. I assumed Captured Tracks would carry that kind of stuff because they have Mac Demarco, Beach Fossils, DIIV, Molly Burch, and Wild Nothing on their label. And they’re from Brooklyn. How could they not have stuff like Yard Act’s debut release, Special Interest, Gong Gong Gong, Guerilla Toss, or anything from Wharf Cat? Which was why I had a field day at Rough Trade (before moving out of Williamsburg) and both of Academy’s locations. But at least they had a Thee Oh Sees record somewhere. That qualifies, right?

I’m about five minutes away from declaring an end to this year’s record-store victory tour. I took my pile of finds to the front counter to be added up. I asked the guy with the blonde hair and glasses if those records marked ‘not for sale’ were really off-limits. He explained that they were Discogs stock for the store and need to keep tabs on their stock, which was fine by me. Pain alleviated. He gave me a couple of titles for free and everything came out to $118.00 including New York State (vampire) tax. Good thing I brought two totes with me because I wasn’t taking any chances having my purchase melt in this 90* July heat. Not happening now, not happening ever. I thanked him for everything, walked upstairs and out on Calyer St. with my stash to a bright, clear, glorious Greenpoint sky.

**********

It’s over. It’s finally over. With me leaving Captured Tracks, the record-store victory tour has come to an official close. I did all that I wanted to do and then more. Almost two months of intensive free-spending without worry and practicing self-care and individualism to the fullest. I was the sun which everything else revolved around - the ventures to Queens and Brooklyn, Easter with my Italian Coney Island family, Roman connections, an ambitious Summer broadcasting season at WUSB, the spirit of Sacred Bones’ 15th Anniversary showcase permanently swirling around me, visits to the retro video arcade down the road from me, seeing friends from the Brentwood era, dinner in Calverton, and a small but all-essential conversation with my #1 favorite ginger. I’ve been spinning up some good spaces on the wheel with no signs of losing.

While walking up to Manhattan Ave. to catch the ‘G’ line, I noticed that a curious point of interest had its doors open. That place was Sunshine Laundromat, a locale I’ve read all about but been meaning to visit for the longest time. It’s an actual laundromat with a concealed backdoor that opens up to reveal a backroom pinball arcade. I never noticed it being there until now but finally I found it! It was only 5:45PM and I had all the time in the world to spare. So why not go in? I have nothing to lose.

I enter the laundromat and I slowly look around. It’s a very narrow space to maneuver around with only two or three pinball tables present and a wall of built-in washing machines and dryers. I notice a lady in the back sorting out a mound of clothes. Behind her is that door that leads to (multiball) paradise. I peer right behind her as she looks up and notices me.

“Hi! How can I help you?” she greets me with a smile. I told her that with genuine interest that I read about the laundromat and asked her if the backroom is open. She told me that they’re under renovations but also are awaiting to have their permit approved by the city. She also said that most likely if all goes to plan, then the arcade will re-open for business in a few weeks. It was alleviating news that made me feel good on the inside and made me walk out a more hopeful being.

It was a mood experiencing two crowded subway cars sharing cramped space with everyone imaginable. It wasn’t an eternal wait for the Central Islip line to arrive which the big ride out east was symbolic in itself. Not many people boarded the car I was riding. I sat facing away in the opposite direction. The 7PM sun in its intense beaming yellow glory was all alone in the sky with no clouds or miserable humidity to share it with. Both The Offset: Spectacles followed by Daniel Johnston’s “In A Lifetime” play along with the air conditioner’s cold snap on the way home as I think about what August and September will have in store for me.

The wheel landed on ‘DOUBLE YOUR MONEY’. I told myself it was going to be a great day. And I was right.

Jon Lucien: Premonition LP

Ron Carter: Peg Leg LP

Ramsey Lewis: Love Notes LP

Hubert Laws & Earl Klugh: How To Beat The High Cost Of Living LP

Weather Report: Tale Spinnin’ LP

Olympic Runners: Don’t Let Up LP

Bootsy’s Rubber Band: Stretchin’ It Out In… LP

Jeff Lorber Fusion, The: self-titled LP

Blackbyrds: Unfinished Business LP

Herbie Mann: Sunbelt LP

Hank Crawford: Cajun Sunrise LP

Kool Moe Dee: Knowledge Is King LP

Blank Stare: self-titled LP

Police, The: “Every Breath You Take” 7”

Simple Minds: “Don’t You Forget About Me” 7”

Bangles, The: “In Your Room” 7”

Thompson Twins: “Hold Me Now” 7”

Janet Jackson: “Let’s Wait A While” 7”

Kim Carnes: “Bette Davis Eyes” b/w “Miss You Tonight” 7”

Alan Vega: Mutator CD

Marissa Nadler: The Path Of The Clouds CD

[rjalker]

sigh. I am once again e-begging for mutual aid. August 24th 2023 for the record.

Click here to see the most updated version of this post.

You know how I've been complaining that the power company raises the rates of electricity in the hottest parts of summer "to encourage people to use less AC?"

Well, with our shitty appartment's AC unit not even able to lower the temperature past 80 degrees when we have excessive heat warnings because it's over 100 degrees outside with high humidity, even with all the doors shut, in this tiny fucking appartment...

Our electric bill for August is over $380.

Almost four hundred dollars. For air conditioning. For a tiny fucking appartment with all the doors shut and the blinds closed. That didn't actually keep us cool. While we were constantly drinking cold water and eating cheap frozen popsicles to stop from overheating inside the appartment.

And of course the fucking landlord didn't warn us about any of this before he offered to let us move into this one from the one on the second floor. Even though there's literally no fucking way he doesn't know that the AC unit in here is outdated and doesn't fucking work and will cost you an arm and a let to simply not fucking drop dead from heat stroke inside your own living room with blackout curtains up in shorts and a tank top.

sigh.

Venmo, cashapp, and paypal are all "Rjalker", with the same icon of a flower and wasp as my icon is here.

You should also be able to "tip" though tumblr itself but I don't even know if that's still working with all the changes they keep making.

Progress: 0/380. Click here to see the most updated version of this post.

If you are able to donate, please feel free to comment how much you donated on this post so other people can see if I haven't gotten a chance to update the post yet!

Please check out my Threadless store where you can buy mostly pronoun pins, some art, and some photography.

I'm too disabled to work and still applying for disability SSI, so @walks-the-ages, my twin, has to use her paycheck for all the bills.

We also still need help with covering the costs of socializing the feral kittens and their mom we caught. The kittens are growing really fast, which means they're eating tons of food each day, and using a lot of litter.

A medium-sized bag of cat food (this Walmart doesn't have any bigger ones) is $15, a bucket of cat litter is $19. We're going through a bag of food every few days with the rate at which these kittens scarf it down, along with the rest of our cats.

We applied for getting them fixed for free, but we still haven't heard anything back from the organization that's running that.

If you know anyone in the Savannah, Georgia area and you are looking for a "free" (you'd have to pay to get them fixed/vaccinated if we haven't done so yet) indoor-only kitten or their mom, let me know. There's four kittens and their mom. All are now successfully friendly and brave around people, and three out of the four kittens are now certifiable lap cats.

[colleenmurphy]

"One hour and thirty-five minutes...Jesus. Never said I'd do this."

'Well. There's a million and one things you said you would never do, Normy ol' chum. Committing to that lovely lady inside the house on 102 Bayberry Lane was one of them and you did that.'

Edging the nose end of the impossibly practical Ford he was issued into the adjoining garage. It was a sprawling place that hadn't been more than a farmhouse when they'd bought it back in '80 just after she'd gotten the teaching job at the Sloughbridge Academy and he had made detective. Sure she had been the only member on staff that wasn't going grey and he was the only guy in the department that actively looked forward to going home to his wife. Four bedrooms two baths and a finished basement with a fully stocked bar. An in ground pool in the back with a garden oasis and a damn koi pond. Colleen Stansfield nee Murphy had a way of getting things done. He had been gone on a stakeout for two days and he'd come home to her digging the pond out by hand by herself with a shovel wearing overalls four sizes too big and one of his ribbed white undershirts. Long dark hair had been plopped into a bun on top of her head and she was covered with dirt and jabbering away about Koi breeds and frogs and all sorts of plants she had planned. The second stakeout he'd come back to a fully constructed greenhouse. His wife certainly had vision and drive and they never lacked fresh food thanks to her scatterbrained ideas.

"You came into my life like a fucking bullet."

Grabbing his suit coat and his wallet from the dash he felt something fall out of the pocket near his foot. The pills. Mr. John Smith's Librium to be exact. Prescribed by Dr. Schlafen. Two totally fictitious people to get his grubby little hands on a thing that helped him keep it all together. Another bullet in his life, each one of them. He'd never touched anything heavier than Col's home grown hippie lettuce until he'd gotten in with the big heavies at the DEA. First he needed something to keep himself up. Then bring him down. That's where Col' and her stash came in. But now...now this. Just during work hours, to make it go fuzzy. Here at home he had a glass of wine or two and enjoyed his time with his wife. Here at 102 Bayberry he was just Norm, or babe or 'Belly Rubber to the dog and 'Butler' to the cat.

Throwing the pills into the glove compartment he closed the driver's side door and walked up the front walkway. The front flower beds had been replanted with Butterfly bushes and lavender along with catmint and yarrow. The humidity of the day hit him harder here than it had in the city oddly enough. A summer storm was looking to roll in.

Some Lou Gramm song was playing on the stereo as he stepped into the front hall. Greeted by two very large mutts he had brought home after his shift when he spotted the box. Laurel and Hardy were exemplary dogs trained in both home defense and given to companionship. The feline of the house sauntered down the stairs and appraised him with her pinched face and spring green eyes much like her mistress's. Mrs. Danvers was an aptly named feline. No sign of aforementioned mistress either yet.

'Where the hell could she be? I hope she's not stuck again in the pantry.'

Popping his head into the kitchen she wasn't there either. Then smell hit him before he saw the smoke as a low rumble of thunder caught his attention. Out on the back deck overlooking the pool and koi pond he found her sitting with her legs criss-crossed as she sat with her back straight a metal rod, her long dark hair piled on top of her head. She must have been out in her studio because she wore her usual tank top with paint covered jean shorts, barefooted. He noticed that her toes were painted a cheery lantern red. He smiled and made a mental note to suggest a take out for dinner.

'Or perhaps dinner on the waterfront? She's got a sundress that would show off that tan.'

"Welcome home, Nor."

She held out a long slender hand to him, offering him the handmade pipe she'd made many years ago in her first pottery studio.

"You do know that I'm obligated to report this and most likely arrest you."

A grin spread across her face as she sauntered over to his side and kissed his cheek before moving to forehead and then finally to his lips leaving a lingering tingle on them. She smelled of lavender, chamomile and the spicy heady burnt rope and brown sugar of her homegrown.

"You wouldn't dare and you know it, Stansfield."

Norman Edward Stansfield was a man who had done some Things in his life, as his wife would call it, and many of theme had come to regret but marrying her was something he would do a million times for a million years until the stars burned out.

[adverbally]

WIP Word Game 2!

Rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

I was tagged a few times, so I’ll indicate who tagged me before each word! You may also notice a theme here in that about 80% of these fics are omegaverse or otherwise baby-adjacent. I’m not going to apologize. Quick warning for trying to conceive and infertility mentions.

@alwaysurvalentine gave me the word DANCE!

D

“Do you not want a baby anymore?”

“It doesn’t matter if I want one, I can’t have one,” Steve snaps, wrapping his arms around himself like he has to hold himself together. “How many people have babies every fucking day? Babies they don’t even want, without even trying.” His lip begins to tremble and his eyes well up. “And I’m trying. I don’t think I’ve ever tried harder at anything in my life, but it’s not enough.”

A

At some point during the night, Steve wakes up completely soaking wet. He has sweat through his t-shirt, leaving his skin clammy and hot as he realizes this must be why it’s called heat. His underwear is even worse off, drenched not just in sweat but also in the slick that is currently leaking from his cunt. He feels disgusting, even as his hindbrain tells him it will make it easier to scent mark his alpha.

N

No, it’s when Steve’s little dance rotates him enough to show Eddie his profile, and he looks like he’s singing softly to the baby in his arms. Dipping them back and forth, cooing a lullaby in that baby-talk voice, beaming down at the sleeping infant with a softness in his eyes that Eddie has never seen.

C

“C’mon, there’s still plenty of space!” To prove his point, Eddie crawls into the back of his van alongside several amps and what looks like Gareth’s whole drum kit. With some creative bending, he manages to get the van’s dedicated sexy time blanket spread out beneath himself.

Steve is still frowning when Eddie looks up from where he’s lying. “Seriously?”

E

Enough freaking out. He splashes some cold water on his face, which doesn’t do much for the feverish pink spots high on his cheeks but makes him feel calmer. He’s gonna go back to bed, call in his heat leave, and wake up his mate so they can make a baby.

@sleepy-steve gave me the word WATER!

W

With a gentle tug, he encourages Steve’s wet fingers out of his cunt and into Eddie’s mouth. He makes sure to play up the squelching sounds as he sucks them clean, knowing the anticipation will drive Steve nuts.

A

A baby, their baby, with that powdery clean scent and Eddie’s big brown eyes, maybe Steve’s nose. A whole little person to watch over and teach and love until he takes his final breath. A family of their own. God, he can’t think of anything he wants more.

T

The doctor’s office is hot and humid. Steve feels himself sticking to the paper on the examination table, like he’s a slice of salami from the deli. It’s almost fitting, since he feels more meat than human today.

E

Eddie nudges his nose against Steve’s temple, breathing in his sweet orange scent. It’s starting to pick up a floral note, as it often does when Steve is in heat, like he’s blossoming beneath Eddie’s hands. He can sense his own scent changing in response, deepening into something like wet asphalt. “Yeah, you like how I smell?”

R

“Real selfless, pimping me out,” Steve pretends to grumble, digging in with his thumbs as he strokes down either side of Eddie’s neck.

Whatever smart retort Eddie was planning evaporates into a breathy gasp at the sensation. “Nope, changed my mind,” he groans, “you’re not allowed to touch anyone else.”

@stervrucht gave me the word STORM!

S

Steve holds her— or Eddie assumes it’s a her, based on the little pink hat— securely against his shoulder, one hand under her tiny diapered butt and the other rubbing soothingly along her back in time with his movements.

T

“Then I guess that makes me a liar, too!” Steve shouts. He throws his arms out in a dramatic gesture. “Good thing we haven’t had a pup yet, since I’m such a shitty person. Might actually make a kid more fucked up than either of us,” he says bitterly. His scent is acrid in Eddie’s nostrils, burning with something more than anger.

O

“Oh, baby.” Eddie sits his book aside and opens his arms to Steve.

As much as he hates Eddie’s pitying tone, Steve is so grateful for his comfort as he crawls into his lap and leans against him.

R

“Really?” Eddie asks, pulling away to hold Steve’s face between his hands like he can tell whether he’s in heat just by looking at him. Actually, he probably can tell, thanks to the feverish flush across Steve’s cheeks and the warmth of his skin, but he still asks.

M

Mercifully, he has a shirt on, one of Eddie’s oversized band tees that he thought had gotten lost. It must have ridden up Steve’s hips as he thrust against Eddie, leaving his ass hanging out and—

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie murmurs at the sight of the rapidly-growing wet patch where Steve is rubbing his pussy against the leg of Eddie’s jeans. His mouth waters.

Bonus Game: Last Line

@fuctacles tagged me for this one! Here is the last line I wrote, from one of my Steddie Smutty September fics.

Eddie practically runs out of the room and all Steve can think is: That man’s gonna be the father of my children.

Whew, that’s all I’ve got for today! Please play along if you’re so inclined. If you want to do the WIP Word Game, I’ll give you the word SHAPE.

No-pressure tags for @runninriot @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @steviewashere @werepuppy-steve @alwaysurvalentine

[daincrediblegg]

Oh I love it when my cafe’s ac conks out when it’s 80 fucking degrees outside with 50% humidity therefore rendering my expedition here to try and get some more fic writing done useless

[cluelesstimestwelve]

Here's to surviving another fucking weather event, this time it was l a Cat 1 Hurricane that took out the power and shredded some trees. Which at least hearing the word "Hurricane" people are more inclined to have some patience when things get wrecked.

As of now, no power at my house, a heat advisory, and I'm helping out at another branch at work because my main workplace is out of power too.

Thankfully, having a generator has helped A LOT but it would be nice to just turn on the lights, y'know?

I'm worried about my pets ,even with all the extra water and precautions we've taken to keep them cool while we're away, the heat is already shit. 80 something degrees feels like 100 and humidity out the ass.

Last time, power came back within like 12 or 16-ish hours, but idk how long it'll take this time.

Fingers crossed 🤞