#Because nobody likes cleaning shit off the bathroom floor.

[iamthepulta]

I want to add to this that my bf who is the sweetest, kindest person, and been tangential to social work his whole life, just started work at a gas station. Despite being fully leftist, his frustration with the homeless population has mounted every day he works there.

It's irresponsible for leftists to advocate this, but not also advocate for the people on the ground who actively deal with homeless people stealing daily, or getting high in the store and assaulting customers/staff, or asking to use the bathroom and repetitively taking a dump on the floor even when asked not to, that you have to clean up.

Because what that means is you don't have any responsibility to actively participate in society- and the people who do actively participate in society are chumps. It's a privileged position we sit in to not see that side of things; that we aren't interacting with people who don't care about paying, and we're powerless as employees to stop it.

That powerlessness is what pushes those on the bottom to force those "on top" to "do something". And unfortunately those "somethings" aren't always thoughtful, humane, respectable actions.

I feel like it's important to add this on because in the last few weeks my boyfriend has been increasingly upset because he wants to help homeless people and he thought his coworkers were being short-sighted and facetious. But his experiences have put him in direct opposition to what he knows. If he were less thoughtful and not had social work experiences, he'd be just as upset.

a lot of yall wanna be leftists until you have to treat drug addicts and the homeless like theyre human beings deserving of dignity and respect

[m1ngkis]

Thinking about a quickie at a house party w Mingi (18+)

A/N: My first intrusive smut on here y'all be nice....

Y'all were already late. You stumbling in the crowded house on shaky legs thanks to the mini skirt that had riled him up and had his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy on the way over. Him, towering over you with a secure hand on your hip, nudging you forward and scouting for a drink.

You said your hellos and waved at the people you recognized as a familiar bass line pounded through the hardwood floors.

"Want something to drink?" His deep voice traveled straight down your spine as his lips pressed close to your ear. No doubt he noticed your shivering and lack of urgency to find your friends.

You wanted, no, you needed him to finish what he started in the car or you thought you might combust any second. "No, Im okay. Just need to find somewhere to sit."

Immediately, Mingi started to scan the room. His height gave him the advantage to see over a majority of heads in the room but not a single chair was free for you to rest in.

"Sorry honey. I don't see a spot. You sure you're okay?" He knew you weren't. He knew you didn't get to cum in the car and it was all but killing you. The way he pressed up against your back and kept his breath warm against your neck. His fingers flexing against your skin as his hand weaved its way across your tummy, drawing you nearer to him, if that was even possible.

"Mingi.." You all but whined as your hand covered his above your belly button, your nails scratching at his skin.

"What is it baby? Say it and I'll take care of you, promise."

"Just a quickie. That's all I need, I swear. Please."

It took nothing for him to start guiding you through the house, ignoring the guys beckoning him over for a drinking game. He made a sharp turn and knocked on the door to the bathroom.

When nobody answered, he swung it open, the door banging the wall behind it and no doubt leaving a dent. He didn't care because once the door was shut and locked, the lights were flickered on and you were bent over the bathroom sink. Your mini skirt flipped up out of his way and your wet panties drug down your thighs and hanging around your ankles.

"Mingi, please fuck me please!" You whined, your body starting to break out in a sweat as he went to undo his jeans, tugging them down just enough to let his cock spring free.

You could hear him curse under his breath as he ran his fingers through your slick folds. "So wet. Shit, you're so wet."

Desperation, began taking over your senses as you pushed your hips back to meet him. "Relax honey. You know I can't just break you open like this."

"Please, I can take it. Mingi please!" You reached a hand back to grab his and interlocked your fingers. "Just put it in."

And he did, easing into you inch by inch until the burning stretch morphed into eye rolling pleasure. His soft grunts and your whines mixed in with the soft smacking of skin and the clink of his belt buckle. It was music to your ears and all you could do was mumble about how good it was. How you almost didn't want to cum because you didn't want it to end.

You got so lost in it, you forgot where you were until a pounding fist rapped against the door and Mingi shouted out. "Busy in here!"

His pace quickened and your orgasm hit you in waves, your moans almost overpowering the music booming through the house. "That's it. You good now?" You could see his sly smirk in the mirror over the sink before his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth dropped open, his cum spilling into you as he thrusted sloppily.

Once he pulled out and cleaned you up, he slipped your panties off your ankles and stuffed them into one of his jean pockets. "I think Ill take a drink now." You smiled up at him and he returned it with a kiss, patting your butt and leading you out the bathroom.

[moriitis]

Stalker!Toby Rogers x Fem!Reader PT.1

im only writing this bc its been in my head for days i might write more.....,,, also this is very very very inspired by YOU on Netflix and toby's mannerisms very much match joe goldbergs...!!! watch it, its amazing. this is in Toby's pov! [Y/N] -> your name minors DNI! tw// stalking, perversion, breaking and entering, murder, obsession, submissive shit.

[Y/N].. Oh, [Y/N]. Can you not see how perfect we would be for each other? We'd be cute as old people, right? I mean, you can see it? Because I can. But I'm getting ahead of myself, I mean fuck.. You don't even know I'm stood here in your room right now watching you sleep and I'm imaging us growing old together already? You'd be cute still, I'd still love you. I'll be honest [Y/N], I only came here tonight to end your life but.. nobody mentioned how beautiful you are! Toby's gaze glanced down to the floor beneath him.

Ok, you're a messy person, I get it [Y/N] but I'd seriously be perfect for you. I'd clean this mess while you get to sleep in another hour. Carefully, he stepped around the odd piles of your clothing that littered your wooden floor. He was quiet, a prey stalking his meal, eyes glued on your sleeping figure. His eyes trailed, your beautiful hair, the way some strands attached to your face. Your face twisted a little in your sleep as your stirred, causing the man to freeze. What are you dreaming of [Y/N]? I'd do anything to get inside that pretty, little head of yours. What is haunting you, disturbing your sleep? Your bed is so small but I just want to slip in beside you, comfort you. That's what lovers do after all. A moment passed and you were still, motionless as you slept the night away. It was safe and Toby let out a small trembled breath as his eyes trickled down to your hips. It was hard to suppress his tics as the excitement ravaged away at his very being. [Y/N], how could you know that you left your bathroom window open? That's okay, that's a morning problem but you know, I'd make sure it's always locked if we were together. So creeps don't get in.

My god, you are perfect. You wore such little clothing for me, right? Those shorts are doing nothing, [Y/N]. I mean, if they are gonna rile up so much, I might as well take them off for you, huh? There was an urge that nibbled away at Toby as his eyes undressed you in that bed, an urge to step closer, to reach out and feel the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips and just as he was about to take a step forward, he stopped and his gaze paused to a certain object to the floor. His brow raised, your dirty panties? It was hard to contain his smirk. [Y/N], [Y/N], [Y/N]... Well, I mean.. If we're going to go this far. Did you leave this for me? Toby leant down and let the fabric slip between his fingers as he picked it up. He caressed the article of clothing for a moment, silk, soft. His jaw tensed, like he was trying everything in his very being to control his feelings. There was no hesitation when Toby buried his nose into the fabric of your underwear, inhaling the sweet scent you left behind. His shoulders shuddered as he stifled a groan. There was a twitch that stirred in his own pants and he quickly used his other hand to grab hold of his cock, a desperate attempt to calm himself down which actually did the opposite. With a gentle groan, Toby noticed you squirm a little again and spun yourself around to now face him. [Y/N], do you know I'm here? You look so beautiful. This moment was too good, so in quick haste, Toby grabbed his phone and found himself slowly drop to his knees. His heart raced as his made his way toward you, admiring every feature upon your delicate face. Pulling up the camera, he aimed the lens toward your figure and began to snap some photos. Just a little something for later, hope you don't mind but partners take photos of one another sleeping all the time! Plus, I just want to remember how you look but then again, that won't be a problem considering I know where you live. A strand of your hair fell and dropped down in front of your face. Toby instinctively reached out but paused, his fingers lingering just in front of the strand. He wanted to sigh but contained it, squeezing his eyes in frustration. Too soon, [Y/N]. Can't let you know I'm here, but that's okay! I'll see you again.

i will write more i just really needed to get this out of my system

[heartfullofleeches]

ICE CREAM MACHINE GHOST LORE-

i am so down for learnin more about R 👀👀

Especially the idea of them and fast food reader catchin up on stuff R didnt get a chance to do???

Chefs kiss for R or maybe just even regular smooches for R

R was born June 1st, 1981 and went missing on the 2nd of June, 2002. This is important to mention not just to give a timeline to his short period alive, but also because he was a huge Scooby-Doo fan and really looking forward the live action film coming out around that time [June 14th]

Fast Food Reader unwinds from a stressful day, and rewards R for good behavior (aka going one day without slapping their ass with a dish rag) by wheeling in the tv used for training tapes and popping in a copy of Scooby-Doo - chilling with R as they watch it. Grabs the blankets they keep in their locker and sets up a little fort in the break room with popcorn and everything. Being the saint they are, Reader may offer to let him use their body so he can enjoy the snacks himself, but R wants to experience everything with them and snatches some poor suckers body to use. Reader doesn't understand why any of their coworkers like them, but then they do shit like this that reminds R a little of what he used to be and fall deeper in love with them with the humanity they've restored in him.

If Reader ever shows him what's new Scooby-Doo they would try to kill him again because he wouldn't stop singing the theme song.

-

R watches from behind the counter as you push the tarp covered trolley into the break room. After cleaning up for the day, you've been in and out of the room without saying much to him or answering his questions. The slam of a locker door and your shoes clicking across the hard floor draw you back to his spot as you fling your bag over your shoulder. You present the item retrieved from within, picking off the plastic film wrapped around the box.

"Hey, I'm done with work and still have a couple hours on the clock. Wanna watch this movie with me? Brought it for you."

"For me?" The confusion in his tone is genuine - still laced with that snarky tone he's known for. "What's the occasion? If you wanted to take me out on a date you could've been a little more romantic with your approach."

"Don't play dumb. You've been muttering lyrics to hex girls songs since I started working here when you think nobody is around. Took a while to figure out where they were from, but it's from a Scooby-Doo film so I thought you'd be interested in watching one with me."

R inspects the box art closer. There is something vaguely familiar about the girl with the orange sweater. Had a crush on someone just because they had the same square glasses and brown hair. That lovable, scared-cat mutt and his equally as jumpy human companion. He and his little brother used to have week long fights to see who got to be who for Halloween... They've taken on a different look, but they're still them. And he's still him. The same young adult who lept over the moon when he first saw that poster hung on the wall of his local theater.

"Got some popcorn and junk in the back. You can use my body for a minute if you want some. Try to make me strip in front of the bathroom mirrors and I will call an exorcist."

"While I appreciate the offer, there's no need." Leaping over the counter, R zips pass you and straight for locked front doors - phasing through the glass and into the body of the understandably terrified customer you chose to ignore as you closed up early. Their eyes briefly widen with fear before glossing over. R stretches, popping the stiff joints in his new body as he rounds the building - leaping through the still open drive through window. He strolls over to you, flashing that wide smile that looked bizarre on a living human face.

"I'm sure I'm better looking as I am, but this body doing anything for you?~"

"Whatever - let's just go."

His stolen heart leaps as you take his hand and pull him along with you to the back. It continues to pound in his ears as you enter the bathroom and take your seat on the floor, sitting shoulder to shoulder with him in the little fort you made using chair and old tablecloths. You take a blanket left on the floor and throw some of it in his lap as you pick up the remote.

"Comfortable?"

Reese looks down at his legs. He looks over at your hand still in his and squeezes it tighter. He fainty remembers the warmth of a high school crushes touch, but there's something different about it this time. The angry swarm of butterflies he felt in his stomach then are calm in the same way his mind is whenever he hears your voice.

"Yeah... I am...."

[drxsxull22]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Wayne Mccullough x reader

(characters are of age not minors)

_____________________________________

It had been a month since me and Wayne had been on the run. All because of the car his father wanted him to have. We had little money and no memories of sleeping in comfortable areas. So this motel was the least of our problems, it would be better than sleeping under a sheet of metal or a tent.

"Room for two please". I ask the receptionist.

She reached behind her then slowly handed us a key.

"Room 15, just down there". Her old voice croaked.

We followed the direction her frail finger pointed, passing all different rooms.

12, 13, 14...

"This is it". I say while turning the key in the lock.

And we both freeze.

One bed.

How were we supposed to share a bed. It would be awkward.

"It's better than nothing, I can always sleep on the floor". He says while walking in.

I follow and drop my backpack by the bedside table, taking a peek around.

It was clean, tidy. The white sheets looked washed. I could get definitely get comfy.

It had a small bathroom and a mini fridge on top of the drawers by the door.

"Cool". I say while opening the mini fridge. It was empty. I sigh.

_____________________________________

Wayne sits motionless on the bed whilst I pace back and forth peeking out of the closed curtains. The sun had gone down.

"So, uh...".

"This car, its in florida?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure". He replies.

"Your pretty sure?". I raise a brow.

"But, you know where we're going right?, like you have an address?". I cross my arms.

"Well, the city, or town, yeah". He shrugs.

I pause. "I gotta go to the bathroom". I grab my backpack, walk in and close the door with no other questions.

I run the cold tap, and wash the refreshing water over my tired face.

Patting gently with a towel then searching through my bag.

"Shit" I exclaim.

I had forgot a bra. As stupid as it sounds.

The night Wayne came to get me. I rushed as fast as could. I must have not packed one.

The air-conditioning was fucked. It was 20° outside. And I couldn't think of anything worse than sleeping in my hoodie and not getting any sleep. Or waking up in the middle of the night and not getting back.

There was only one other option.

I take my hoodie off, and notice that my chest is slightly visible but only a little.

"Stay where you are". I yell out to Wayne.

I open the door, bringing my arms up to my chest then go to turn the lamp off.

Wayne is already setting a pillow on the ground next to the bed.

I walk slowly over to the bed, and crawl under the covers.

Laying there for a few minutes, Wayne breaks the silence.

"Y/n, I think you should stay".

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I just think that if you want to stay, you should stay" he says.

I raise in the bed confused.

"Did you find the bus ticket?" I ask.

"Yeah".

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to take you away. But after seeing your father act like a dick to you. I couldn't leave you behind". He said.

He sounded so sincere when he talked. Like he actually cared.

"Anyway I'd bett-".

"Come up here". I interrupt.

"What?". He asked.

"Stay....I mean, come to bed".

He raised to his feet and I placed my head down on the pillow.

He got under the covers.

I was surprised he wasn't warm. Though he was wearing the same grey tshirt he had under his hoodie.

"My dad wasn't always a dick, there was a time when he was, well, not such an asshole as his now. That was before my mom died. He loved her. He loved me. He treats my brothers the same. But he was different. And if he goes. I've got nobody".

"You have now though, right?". His quiet tone asks.

I turn away putting on the bedside lamp. Then turn back to face him. Not saying anything. Just looking.

The silence built. Then his hand came up to my cheek. Brushing the stray hair that dangled infront of my eyes.

I bring my face down to his level. Slowly I lock my lips onto his.

His reaction wasn't visible. He didn't show any sign of pulling away. Only seeming to want more.

He slipped his hand at the back of my neck kissing my jaw then my jugular.

I felt my heart pound. His hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his lap.

Giving himself easier access to every inch of my upper half.

"Tell me to stop". He breathed.

"No".

I gripped onto his dark hair. Kissing harder.

He noticed the translucency of my top and I could feel his jeans growing stiffer by the second, which caused me to move.

He groaned. Sliding a hand up my back, then down to the hem of my camisole.

He looked at me for consent, to which I just nodded.

From there he began lifting my top up and over my head. His fingers tickled my spine as they danced lower and lower to the bottom rim of my jeans.

Then in a swift motion he rolled me onto my back and kissed down my chest.

"Is this ok?". He asks quietly.

"Mhm". I bit down on the inside of my cheek.

He pulls back, reaching both arms over and removing his tshirt.

Then he goes for the button on my jeans.

Slowly unbuttoning them and sliding them down my legs.

"Are you sure, if you don't want to, tell me". He looked up me through puppy eyes.

"I want it, please Wayne".

The fact that he asked consent made me want him even more.

He got down at the end of the bed. I knew what was coming.

And it only made my excitement go through the roof.

"I'll be gentle". He pulled my underwear off.

He hooked his arms under my legs, pulling them apart for his eyes to linger.

"You're so pretty". He kisses my inner thigh.

His soft kisses trailed higher and higher. Until he was right where I wanted him to be.

I swallow hard when his strong grip pulled me closer.

"Mmmm" his groans shot through me.

His tongue wouldn't stop. It kept grazing my core.

"Fuck". I writhed under his grasp.

For such a quiet boy, he surely wasn't shy when it came to giving pleasure.

Gentle was an understatement. He grew more rougher and needy as he licked deeper.

I could feel my stomach tighten. And I gripped his soft dark hair, pulling lightly.

"I'm close".

I came closer and closer until I reached the climax I long waited for.

I thought he would pull away. But he didn't.

He didn't stop. His tongue kept a steady pace inside of me.

His eyes were shut, like he was sinking into a trance he didn't realise he was in.

"Wayne...wait" I stutter.

He brought his arm up and across my hips. Guarding my movement.

He couldn't help himself, he kept at it.

I could feel the overstimulation hit. And I couldn't take it anymore.

There was so much pleasure yet so much pain. It was all too much to handle.

His tongue wraps around my clit causing me to jolt.

But his strong arm kept me down.

"I cant-please...ah!".

He looks up at me.

"Just a little longer". He pleaded.

As much as It hurt, I didn't want him to stop.

He dipped his head back down and went back to it.

I felt the same tight sensation, this time it was enhanced.

I arched my back as I came for the second time.

He kissed my thigh once more, then pulled back.

My legs went sloppy, like honestly, I couldn't feel them.

He took off his jeans and boxers, then climbed on top.

"Wayne".

"Yeah?" He asks softly.

"I haven't, done this before" I confess.

"Neither have i" he replies.

Which leads me to believe he's lying.

"You sure?" I raise a brow.

"I mean you did just go down on me like you've done it before so-".

"I promise" he laughs.

"And this time I'll be gentle, I promise that too". He kisses me softly.

He slowly entered me which I slightly tensed at the pain.

He rested his hands on each side of my head. His fingers playing with my hair which relaxed me.

And slowly he started to move.

"Ah, fuck Wayne" I whine.

"Am I hurting you?" He asks worried.

"No, it just, feels good" my cheeks flush red.

He tucks his head into my neck breathing hot heavy breaths while pressing open mouth kisses on my beating pulse.

I ran my fingers through his hair, and in return he whimpered slightly.

"God Y/n, I love you so much" He exclaimed.

I was surprised. I wouldn't have thought he felt the same. But he did.

My moans were a signal for him to speed up. And that he did. Gradually he went faster.

I felt his hand come down from the side of my head. And he gripped onto my thigh, tilting me slightly.

I screamed when he hit the right spot.

He took notice and continued to hit it over and over until were both near. And we could feel it.

And in an instant we both came together.

I drew a sharp breath when he pulled out. I was so sensitive and sore it was almost hard to move.

But he noticed how worn out I looked and comforted me. Wiping the sweaty strands out of my face then cradling me close.

"I love you too".

He looked down at me completely in awe.

"Really?" He asked.

"Yes".

I kiss him.

We lay there for a minute or two. I realised.

"Fuck!" My eyes widen.

"What" he asked curiously.

"You didn't pull out of me. You came in me!!". I shout, jumping out of bed then speedily get dressed.

"Shit, Y/n im-".

"No time Wayne. We gotta go".

"Where?".

"To get the fucking after pill". I give him an obvious look. Which I know I shouldn't have.

It wasn't his fault. It was our first time. But still the amount of times parents warn their kids about safe sex and the first time gets fucked up.

He got out of bed and got dressed.

Once we were complete, I ran out the door and he followed.

It was way too early for a baby.

Could you imagine?.

A little baby Wayne Jr. Sounds cute when I think about it.

Maybe someday.

[termagax]

become the bandage and the blade

warning for some injury + allusions to sex 👍

Three-parts of the yellow stuff to one part water, one part disenfectant (whatever you can find).

A notebook filled with scrawlings labelled "Wasteland for Dummies" was propped on the backside of the toilet in a narrow bathroom. Harsh white lights bounced off sterile white tile, illuminating the trail of red smeared across the floor - an angry arrow pointing past the big man on his knees, straight to the unconscious body in the bathtub.

The big man on his knees pried up the backside of the vanity cabinet and retrieved - hidden in a space carved out between bricks in the wall - a small jar filled with a fine yellow powder.

The "yellow stuff" in question was a kind of nanite powder - an emergency medical treatment usually reserved for active battlefields. It was the backbone of life in the wasteland - valuable enough for it's intended purpose, but versatile enough for nearly anything. The handwritten book alone contained 13 different medical uses, instructions on how to use it to purify water, notes on its effects as a drug, and a particularly good seasoning for grilled fish.

Out there, it was hard to get your hands on. It was smuggled to the wastes from military surplus by thieves and scalpers, the supply controlled by territory gangs outside of the main city, and all of it considered the queens property once you were within Junkertown's limits. Roadhog couldn't count the times they'd killed for a couple grams of the stuff.

Overwatch had a near-infinite stockpile of it. Barrels and barrels sat in a storeroom, only occassionally brought out to resupply the medics for a mission, their high-tech tools extremely efficient in using such a precious resource. Nobody would notice the little jars squirreled away around the two-bedrooms-and-a-bathroom the junkers had claimed for themselves. It was just a little security. A little promise that they could still leave at any time, and a little richer than they came.

He hadn't expected to be using it so soon.

He shook out a portion into the bowl he'd placed on the counter, fumbling for the rubbing alcohol he'd left behind on the floor. His hands were not shaking, because he was The Roadhog, and he'd survived much, much worse than this.

He eyeballed the proportions, added water and mixed until it looked about the consistency it usually did when the fish made it. He spared a glance towards them, unconscious in the tub, and immediately regretted it. The clear water around them had bloomed a deep pink, the deep, jagged tears on their back still weeping. If the bleeding had slowed at all, he couldn't tell.

They'd had much worse, he told himself. His panicked mind helpfully supplied images of their little body blown to shit from a too-close bomb on a heist gone bad, a red smear on pavement where they'd been thrown back, half of those pretty blue scales peeled off, leaving behind a gaping mess of muscle and blood.

Unhelpfully, he couldn't hold back the memory of them whimpering in his arms as he hauled them as far away from the crime scene as possible, sobbing and rambling like they really were about to die, saying all the stupid sappy shit they wouldn't be caught dead with under less severe circumstances. I'm sorry. I love you. You deserved better than me. I'm sorry. I don't want to die, Hoggy. I love you.

His hands weren't shaking. The Roadhog's hands did not tremble. He drained the bath and started running it again, bringing clean, clear water over the cuts.

Direct application is best for deep wounds. Be firm, it will hurt.

He scooped out the paste on one meaty finger and, as instructed, pressed firmly into the deep tears, red chasms in lovely blue skin. Their body twitched involuntarily, the tiny whimper enough to let him know they were still breathing.

It was almost funny. If they were awake, the fish would probably find this thrilling. It was only too similar to the games they liked to play in the simulator. He'd gutted them open, once, fucked into the mess of bloody organs while they squealed for more, encouraging him onwards despite the sobs shaking through their wrecked body.

He'd gotten too comfortable in there. Within the confines of Overwatch's training simulator he could kill them, snap their neck, throw them off a cliff, rake his hook across their chest and pull them across the field lungs-first, and in ten seconds they'd be back like nothing ever happened, blue-green scales shimmering and untarnished. Ready with some snarky line to piss him off.

Too comfortable.

It was always the same reassurance with them, the same promise they'd made since they were dumb kids and he was too scared to put any real force into it when he tossed them around. You aren't gonna break me, Mack. I'm tougher than I look. I can take it. Harder. Again.

He left his hand on their lower back, just above their tail, running his thumb in small circles in an attempt to be soothing. There was blood still in the bed of his nails, the grooves of his knuckles.

He should've noticed the unfocused, dizzy haze in their eyes, should've realized there was too much blood, should've remembered exactly how much force to use with the tip of the hook, should've cut cleaner, should've heard the way their breath strained in their chest, noticed their grip fading away. But he didn't. He hadn't seen it at all.

What cued him in, in the end, was the quiet. No complaints about the mess he'd made, no needy little whining for more, no half-cruel compliments, not even that breathless little purr. Just a tiny, unsteady heartbeat when he'd rested his head on their chest.

It was quiet now. The tub was full and the fish wasn't stirring anymore. The bleeding was slowing down, if he stared closely enough he could watch the fibers in their back reconstruct themselves. He focused, instead, on the rise and fall of their breathing, and the steady thrum of the light on the end of their tail. Mako clasped his shaking hands together and started to wait.

[divineprank]

Storytime with Parli! ♥

So tonight, I was at the grocery store. I had just grabbed a shopping cart, walked beyond the security gate and entered the retail floor all while talking on the phone to my mom. It's been snowing, so I have one of my hoodies on. It's an older jacket so the hoodie pocket is torn wide open, but I still use the damn thing because it's very warm since it has fleece stitched into the inner lining.

So I look like an excellent mark, right? I'm this tiny little lady, (5'1"!) that has just walked into a busy, overstimulating grocery store while the rest of my attention is being stolen by talking on the phone with my mom. Even better is I'm wearing my fucked up hoodie and my wallet is kind of sticking out of my hoodie pocket. It's practically daring to fall out of my jacket, or better yet, be straight-up stolen right off of my person.

As I'm walking further into the store, talking to my mom, from out of nowhere, I suddenly feel this presence practically engulf me from behind. The hairs on my neck were standing at attention, and before I can turn around and bark at the person who was invading my personal space, I feel his hand reaching into my hoodie pocket.

This motherfucker, who came out of virtually fucking nowhere, attempted to pickpocket me. I say "attempted" to, because he failed to take my wallet off my person, but the motherfucker absolutely took my knuckles to his teeth!

My mom said she heard a lot of muffling over the phone at this point. She said she heard me suddenly sound like I was standing far away from the phone, and bark "excuse me!!" in a really mad voice, before she heard a whompf! sound. I'm gonna be honest, I don't know where the hell this asshole came from, because I have zero memory of him coming into the store behind me, at least nobody followed me through the front doors from the parking lot. At first he wasn't there, and then suddenly he was.

I hit him pretty fucking good. I know I caught him in the mouth, because when I reeled my hand back, my knuckle was bleeding and I think I caught him in the teeth when I felt him reach into my pocket. Unfortunately, the jackass ran off, and by the time I got to talk to the cops, we were all sure there was no way he would get caught tonight. The police let me take some toilet paper from the grocery store bathroom and hold it against the cut on my hand while they took my statement. I gave them my information and they let me continue grocery shopping when the decided that they would talk to the store manager and see if they could get access to the security cameras and the footage that was recorded. They told me they'd call me if they needed anything else from me or if they found the guy or whatever.

So, once I was free to go, I finished my shopping, got home, cleaned up and bandaged my hand, put my groceries away and like the chronically-online piece of shit that I am, I got onto Discord and vented the story to my buddies in one of the private servers I run.

The following discussion was just too good for me not to share. It definitely put a smile on my face after the shitty evening I had. Oh, and no. Nothing was stolen from me, thank goodness! I caught the little bastard just in time! ♥

[starrylevi]

Hiiii! I love your Drabbles smm It’s got me thinking about how nobody has ever made reader angry at Levi before they kinda make her always so patient and never angry if Yk what I mean? but could you make one where the reader hurts Levi’s feelings (instead of the other way around like always) by accident cuz of her hot-headed self kinda yells at him and she feels guilty later and apologizes? Or do you think Levi wouldn’t accept behavior like that even tho it hurt him what she said? Like he would put the reader in her spot and yell back? Do you think Levi would be with a hot-headed s/o who gives him attitude without realizing it, maybe he would break it off cuz he can’t accept shit like that from anyone? Idk it’s up to you how this Drabble goes! I love your work!!<3

Hiiiii, and thank youuuu! ♥️

I struggled with this sooooo much because I kept going back and forth on how he would react. I’m so sorry I genuinely don’t have a clear cut answer 😭 I feel like it depends??? Like I feel s1-s3 levi might put up more of a fight and s4 and post-war levi would be more solution focused?? But it might also depend on how long the reader’s been with Levi. I’m so sorry I tried my best and this is what I came up with 😅

“That’s not right.” Levi points out your inefficient cleaning technique.

You sigh, rolling your eyes, you were already annoyed. “What do you mean?”

“You need to scrub a little harder.”

You do what he says, putting more force in your movements in order to get the grime off. It doesn’t work.

“You just need to-“

“You know what, Levi,” You drop the sponge, causing it to bounce off one of the tiles on the bathroom floor before it finds it way to a corner. “Why don’t you scrub it yourself if I’m doing such a terrible job?” You frustratedly pull at the yellow cleaning gloves on your arms. “I’m not a clean freak like you, I don’t need everything to be perfect.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t need to be a clean freak if you knew how to clean properly.” He quickly retorts.

“What is your issue?” You snap as you stand up, putting the yellow gloves under your armpit.

Levi raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one who seems to have an issue. What’s with the attitude?” His tone is calm but stern.

“I don’t have an attitude, I’m just annoyed.”

“Oh, so that makes it okay for you to call me a clean freak.” He says sarcastically before he pauses. “You know what, why don’t you come to me when you’re ready to talk like a grown adult.” He puts emphasis on the last two words as he leaves you alone with your thoughts in the bathroom.

You feel silly for reacting that way, especially when all he was trying to do was help you. You sigh to yourself before making your way to the kitchen. If there’s anything Levi’s doing right now, he’s making a cup of tea. You enter the space, seeing him midway in the process of making a cup.

“Levi?” You say meekly, eyes staring at his undercut.

He turns around, you can see slight irritation in his features as his eyes meet yours. “Yes, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry. That was an asshole thing for me to say to you.” You admit to him.

The tension in his face lessens a bit. “It was.” He crosses his arms and sighs. “You can’t always get like that.”

“Like what?” You ask, confused.

“The moment you get upset, you attack me. You don’t even try to talk to me about it.”

You blink slowly, taking in his words. “I…”

“Listen, I’m not good at this talking about my feelings stuff either but I don’t lash out at you every chance I get.” He continues, his tone a bit bothered. “If I upset you, say that. But don’t be an ass about it. I know I can be cold but I’m not made out of stone.”

In that moment you see the clean freak comment bothered him more than you realized. You nod. “You’re right. I should have just let you know what I was feeling. It just felt like you felt like I wasn’t trying hard enough.”

He nods in response. “I get that. And I’m sorry I made you feel that way.” He sighs, arms dropping at his sides before making his way over to you. He gently holds you by both shoulders, his cloudy eyes looking into yours. “I love you, alright? I need you to work with me.”

“I know.” You nod. “I will.”

He seems to be satisfied with the answer, giving you a quick kiss on your forehead. “Now after I finish this cup of tea, we’re going to keep tackling that bathroom together.”

“Yes sir.”

[mudhamster]

CHWHWN: 04. December - "finger massage"

Kacchan: what the fuck Deku: What is it? Kacchan: What is this supposed to be?? *image attached* Deku: A massage. Of your fingers. By me. Kacchan: YOU want to MASSAGE my FINGERS. are you nuts that's creepy af don't you think Deku: uhm no Otherwise I wouldn't have offered Kacchan: How tf is this supposed to go? Deku: I'll come to your room bring some massage oil i'll probably ask you if you want to sit or lie down maybe also if you want to close your eyes Could bring some music. My mediation playlist is quite nice We wouldn't have to speak I come, we do it, I leave simple. Kacchan: you're serious Deku: Of course I am! Kacchan: ... WHY would you even do that? Deku: I saw you massaging your palms yesterday after our practice fight. With your thumb. I had a hand massage once. And it was amazing But I get it, seems out of the blue. Anyway, I'd be glad to show you how it feels like. If you want. Kacchan: You are no doubt the purest form of a comically unpleasant creature Deku: You don't have to, Kacchan. Nobody is forcing you. Kacchan: Nobody could make me do shit, asshole. Be with me in 30m Deku: 30? What else are you doing? Kacchan: Taking a fucking shower, creep Deku: סּ_סּ its itsjustyourhands Kacchan: what Deku: You don't have to shower your whole body for that!!!! Kacchan: I TAKE A SHOWER CAUSE I WENT TO THE GYM U FUCKTARD Deku: oh ok. never mind then.   Kacchan: ✖

NEVER MIND THE FACT THAT KACCHAN WOULD BE THERE - FRESHLY SHOWERED - SMELLING LIKE HEAVEN AND SWEET DEATH SHOULD IZUKU MAKE THE SMALLEST MISTAKE. NEVER MIND. NEVER MIND.

Izuku had never been so out of his MIND and at the same time he had never had so much on his MIND. He would touch him. They would sit opposite each other. Kacchan would watch him. He would hear him breathe. They would be silent. Izuku started to regret the offer. Everything would be better if he could just talk. But he had offered to be silent.

…

However, there would be less chance of him talking nonsense if he kept quiet.

But the tension. Izuku was still two floors down and yet the tension was almost killing him. What would it be like if they sat less than half a meter apart? Both on … the bed? Or Kacchan on the bed and him, because he wasn't allowed to touch the bed, in front of it? On the floor between Kacchan's thighs?

"Daaaamn," he cursed, slapped his hands painfully on his cheeks and jumped up from the bed. "I'm screwed. I-" he looked at his cell phone. Should he ...give up? Should he just pull his neck out of the noose, abort the mission, go to sleep, and pretend he would not bite himself in the ass for the next 100 years if he let the chance to touch Kacchan's hands pass without the risk of being burned to ashes...? There were barely 20 minutes left. His eyes darted to his bathroom. He could take a shower as well. Smell good, … make an impression. Not as the shitty nerd. But as Izuku, who could keep quiet, smelled clean and did good deeds. Maybe… if he could convince Kacchan just a tiny bit that he could make him feel good… maybe he could do more, like… but he couldn't finish the thought, his skin felt like it was melting off his face, good lord. And well, he was sweating. 18 minutes. He would even manage to blow dry his hair in that time.

[thedawningofthehour]

Making Fun of Rich People Round 2

This one's a little bit different. This house is in Arizona, listed for a clean 20 mil, eight bedrooms ten baths, 16,000 square feet. The outside is really nothing special, looks like every other southwestern wanna-be movie star mansion so let's

Kicking things off with a bang.

You know. I can't even say anything bad about this. Like, the other house, they were people who clearly had more money than taste and built their house as a shrine to their bank accounts. It was not meant to live in, but to prove their wealth. It was ridiculous and stupid and they deserved to be made fun of.

These people. These people know their house is ugly. They know that table was an obscene waste of money. They know that couch screams "my coke dealer was redecorating." They do not care. They love bringing people in and watching their expressions of horror. They rub their hands together gleefully as people try to think of a compliment that isn't too obviously pulled out of their ass.

I mean, come on. That green chandelier, they're absolutely trolling us.

And I'm going to be honest, this looks like a living room I'd actually feel comfortable hanging out in. I can see someone on that couch eating ice cream out of the carton at 3 AM. People sit on that rug and play board games on that table. These people furnished their house to live in, not to display.

I am still going to tease them about it, however.

I'm laughing with them, not at them.

Is it just the angle or does that bed seem super short?

I...don't even know what I'm looking at here. I think this is the closet?

No, okay, they have a whole mall outlet store in here. This is like that one scene in Princess Diaries 2 except Julie Andrews would politely show herself out.

Why the marble. Why do you need a sitting area in your closet.

I will admit, I'm disappointed that the owner of such an interesting house has this many black pumps. I get that they go with everything, but-that's the point. They're universal. You don't need over a dozen of them. I expected better shoes.

Nobody:

Rich People: "make the bathroom...ROUND."

fr, their insanity always seems to come out full-force in the bathroom. I legitimately think rich people might not poop or bathe, because it's always some crazy shit that would be incredibly uncomfortable or downright impossible to use.

Another thing I've noticed, rich people all seem to want bathroom doors that open to the outside. Why?!

Especially when this is the outside they're opening up to!

Seriously, what is the point of this?! You're buck naked and decide to go have a smoke next to some cactuses and your giant patio geode. That's all that's out here. Why. Why.

Actually, it looks like there's little paths, which...just makes this worse, honestly. Imagine you're taking a leisurely stroll through the cactus garden and you pass your parents' bathroom patio, getting a full view of your mom taking a bath through the floor-length windows.

"Yes, in our dining hall with the light fixture that looks like birthday sparklers and our collection of Totally Real cactuses."

I've seen designers rag on those unfinished wood tables before, and while I didn't really agree with them at the time I kind of do now. I think this would look cool as like, a side table or accent table, but on a dining table it's just kind of awkward.

This is the same room, they just kept panning out.

While I made fun of the other house for their grand piano, I have no doubt that someone in this family is a drug-fueled musician. This room looks mega-comfy to lay back and watch a movie in, and I love the sheep.

I'm just...in awe of the audacity.

They didn't even try to match. Didn't even pretend like they cared. And I'm not gonna lie, the red countertop is doing something for me.

"When we want the bugs to join us for dinner."

I can't stress this enough, they have multiple patio sets.

See, the last people didn't show off all their alcohol at their bar because they thought it looked more refined not to. These guys probably have art supplies tucked away in their bar just to keep you on your toes. (they don't need a bar, these are the kind of people who carry flasks around with them)

So like...objectively, this bathroom is hideous. It's way too much, the feather thing is ridiculous, that cabinet is ugly as sin.

But I kind of love it?

Just a reminder: this is in Arizona.

...I have nothing to say here.

WHAT IS UP WITH RICH PEOPLE AND THEIR UGLY BATHROOMS?!

Again with the doorway to the outside! And I see this a lot, but so many rich people bathrooms don't have storage spaces?! Like, look at those sinks. What.

More to my theory that rich people don't have any need for bathrooms.

This is the bedroom I wanted as a thirteen-year-old and just now realized I still do.

THE WALLPAPER IS EVEN BIRBS!

Like, I can't even make fun of this. I am just in awe. This entire house looks if sixth grade me had access to the Sims 3 Create-A-Style and the motherlode cheat, and I honestly love that for them. I hope these people find a new house to be extremely fucking cool in.

Leaving with these calming lemons in the backyard! Pay no attention to all the bathrooms that open up directly to the garden.

[anexistingexistence]

Time to ruin someone's day, here we go!

(Aka: Me going on a rant about fluffy DarlinxQuinn.)

Warnings (?): Me swearing a lot because I wrote this the moment the thoughts came into my head without a filter, domestic fluffy things, and Quinn, who deserves to be his own warning.

Darlin and Quinn were so sweet together and you can not possibly fathom how endearing they were with one another.

For example - hear me tf out - they got matching rings to wear for their first anniversary-type thing. And I know now you might say:

"Uhh Existence, they weren't even together for a whole year. Did you even read the timeline?"

To which all I have to say is, bitch I studied the timeline, you amateur, now keep listening to what I have to say. Quinn is the type of person that celebrates this kind of shit monthly - He's the kind of person to celebrate "half-birthdays" or whatever they're called. So yea, he got himself and Darlin matching rings to put on necklaces as a first monthly anniversary gift.

Another grand example would be how these two shared each other's clothes all the time. Nobody knew which hoodie or t-shirt was whose anymore after a few months and so they'd just start buying clothes together and for each other instead of individually for themselves because they just knew they'd end up sharing the clothes anyway. And Darlin accidentally kept some of Quinn's clothes even after they broke things off.

Also, Darlin did Quinn's makeup for him. These two would be sitting pretty on the bathroom floor of Quinn's dingy little apartment, Darlin in Quinn's lap, and they'd be doing his eyeliner and applying glitter to his eyeshadow and putting on his highlighter. Once they were done, Quinn would give them the softest kiss and share his lipstick or chapstick with them before saying something like "To treat/cover up that scar I left" with the sweetest apologetic look he could muster.

Also, Quinn would always give Darlin massages and he was weirdly good at it. Most of the time these two weren't intimate in those innocent and lovely little ways, but when they were, it usually was Quinn massaging them.

And he wasn't just good with his hands when it came to massaging because this man has such steady hands that it became a regular thing for him to paint Darlin's nails, only for them to miserably fail at doing his in return. They were always super embarrassed and apologetic about it when they got the nail polish all over his fingers but to Quinn it was just the cutest thing to see them scramble to clean him up and damn near hear the blood rush to their face in embarrassment.

Another thing would be that Darlin tends to have a very hard time falling asleep, so they'd ask Quinn to trance them to sleep sometimes and he'd hum a little tune while he held them in his arms and they drifted off in his trance. When they were fully asleep he'd give them a little forehead kiss and just cuddle them closer while watching them sleep very non-creepily (definitely not creepy, why would you even suggest that?).

This one's not as wholesome, but Quinn thought it was cute and quirky to wear Darlin's blood like it was lipstick which they found disgusting, but they got desensitized to it to the point they played up their annoyance whenever they saw him do it. They'd say something like "You know it looks bad when it gets this dry, right?" before getting a wet cloth or just straight up licking it from his lips. The latter of those only encouraged Quinn to keep doing this because of course it did.

And those were my wonderful thoughts and ideas for the day, hope you enjoyed (or were miserable throughout) reading this stuff.

Also, how are we liking the dividers? I made them myself and I think they turned out pretty cute.

[wearethemaincharacters]

If we get caught, I’m blaming you [j cody x fem!reader]

18+ minors DNI!

Word count: 996

Prompts:

51 if we get caught, i’m blaming you

22 did I give you permission to do that?

56 look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only me

7 louder, let me hear you

63 oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?

Warnings: smut (18+), shower sex, mention of a gun (not used towards anyone), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys), choking, getting caught (kinda)

——————————————————————————

“Smurf is going to kill us, if we get caught, I’m blaming you”, you tell him as both of you scurry into the bathroom, not even closing the door since the bedroom one seemed to be enough not to get caught.

He presses his body into yours, your lower back coming in contact with the counter of the sink behind you. Effortlessly, he grabs the back of your thighs to lift you up and sit you onto the counter. While his lips attack your neck with kisses and take the chance to carefully suck on your skin, your hands wander to his lower back where you pull on his shirt but your fingers land on something else - metal.

A moan escapes your throat as you grab the gun and put it next to you on the counter. You go back and pull his bloody shirt over his head and throw it somewhere in the room.

“Shower”, you now mumble against his lips and already try to hop off the counter.

Guests would be arriving in the next five minutes and both of you still needed to get cleaned up, washing the blood off your bodies from the job you pulled and nobody needed to know about - no one besides your family of course. Smurf took you in when you were younger and your parents just didn’t care about you, so they someday dropped you off at her front door but things got complicated when J came around about a year ago - because family doesn’t screw family and it never mattered if you were her real daughter or not.

This was the second job you pulled as a family after she finally caved in and gave J the chance to prove himself as trustworthy and the tension was thicker than usual, everyone still feeling the adrenaline. The blood on your clothes wasn’t his or yours, Baz lost it and shot one of the civilians, not a deadly shot but enough you and J would look like it got either of you.

He kisses you hungrily while pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra on your way into the shower. After pulling away for a second to turn on the water, you already work on the button of your jeans shuffling them down your legs with your underwear.

J closes the gap between your body, pressing his body into you before pulling away from your lips once more, grabbing your ass in your hands as you work the belt and button of his jeans: “Shit, did I give you permission to do that?”, smiling as he looks down at your naked form when you take things in your own hands again and push him into the shower, letting the door fall shut behind you. He pulls his pants and underwear down, not trying to break the kiss as both of you get drenched from the stream of water above you.

“Need to hurry”, you tell him and turn around to press your body into the glass, fingers reaching for his cock.

He gives it a few tugs, the noises only amplified by the stream of water, before he teases your entrance rubbing his length up and down a few times. You brace your hands before you, trying your best not to slip on the wet shower floor when you spread your legs further, pushing back against him. The moan that escapes your lips is breathy and shaky in your throat as he pushes himself into the hilt, filling you up completely. His hand sneaks on the side of your neck before deciding against fully wrapping around and instead he collects your wet hair and gives a little tug, pulling your head slightly backwards which makes your head spin and brace your hands in front of you against the glass while you look at him, brows furrowed just like yours and water spilling down the back of his neck and back. He lets go of your hair and grabs your tits in one hand each with a firm grip.

His thrusts are fast, setting a rhythm that’s better than you could’ve ever imagined when touching yourself only a few doors down from him.

The following words let your forehead fall onto glass while trying to match your movements with trembling knees: “Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me and only me”, his voice drops to a possessive tone down to your ear and you can feel yourself clenching around him, your orgasm nearing when you actually dare and take a look into the mirror in front of you. Him behind you, now with a vice grip on your hips all while your body is pressed to the glass of the shower, taking him like you always thought about. Your whimpers turn into silent moans and cries for help, desperate for your release.

“Louder, let me hear you.”

Squeezing your eyes shut you try your best and concentrate on keeping your mouth shut, too scared to get caught. One hand reaches between your thighs to draw circles on your clit and suddenly a high pitched moan leaves your lips, letting your head fall back on his shoulder, legs trembling as you’re right on the edge.

“Oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?”

A slap on your ass rips another moan from your lips. His own movements get sloppy as he keeps fingering your clit, making you come with a cry, body tensing and legs almost buckling out under you as he follows just seconds later. You catch your breath as your trembling hands slide down the glass when he pulls out, leaving you wanting more already.

“I hope you guys are done, Smurf just got back from the store”, Derans voice says from outside the door, causing both of you to wince.

You can be fucking lucky she left in the first place.

~ M

[chronicsymptomsyndrome]

Extended rant about being poor and disabled under the cut, not really worth reading I just needed to get it out.

Hope everyone’s having a decent day

Listen I’m disabled unemployable massively in debt and have exactly $0 in liquid funds and no sizable assets. Unless you count physical assets. Like I could sell my body I guess. Ugh. Anyway throwback to that one time like an hour ago when I at least had a iPad to use. It was from 2013 so I knew this day would come. Can’t believe it lasted this long. And I know I should be extremely grateful to even have a smartphone, but I cannot use my phone as a computer the way most people do. I cannot hold onto my phone that long. I can’t look at such a tiny screen that long. I can’t crane my neck down for that long. I can hold it up level to my eyes but I can’t hold my arm up that long either. It’s not practical or sustainable. Plus my smart phone won’t last forever. Then what will I do? Without access to the internet? Yeah yeah touch grass nobody had internet for millennia blah blah blah okay but now we do. Now it’s a basic necessity. You need internet to do pretty much anything adults need to do nowadays in order to be an active part of society. I agree it’s fucked up but it’s real. I cannot get to a library. I don’t have friends in walking distance (or any distance for that matter) I have no access to using the internet for more than a couple minutes at a time. Im writing this post in segments over the course of a whole day. I keep coming back to it because I can’t think about anything else. I legitimately don’t know how to remedy this situation.

Not that this is a remedy but I want to inflict suffering onto anyone that’s ever said money only causes problems or doesn’t buy happiness or the best things in life are free or any of that classist bullshit. Two hundred dollars is pocket change to so many people but a little refurbished tablet would change my life right now. I hope every billionaire lives long but suffers endlessly and unfathomably until they die.

Also I hope my dad and his wife are really enjoying their fully refurbished three story three bedroom two bathroom home complete with a sunroom a heated deck/screen porch (yes different from the sunroom) heated floors in every room a garage big enough for their two brand new cars a little Vespa & a whole workshop plus a cute little stone patio with a fucking water feature pond fountain thing that they don’t even see that much what with their practically monthly elaborate getaways and international vacations every year. Fuck I hope they are really fucking enjoying themselves. Meanwhile I have to decide if I want to cut back on food and medicine for a while to save up for a device I can access the internet on.

Anyway. Ignore this I’m just really fucking tired, sooooooo unbelievably fucking tired, of being poor and disabled. Big fucking deal I know I’m so far from the only one. I know I still have so much that some people don’t have. And I’m grateful. But…fucking hell. Poor and healthy would be fine. Poor and disabled but still employable would be fine. Disabled but financially stable would be fine. Disabled with adequate support systems would be fine. My piece of shit grandfather finally fucking off and dying and leaving me something to live on would be cool. I’d kill for any of these. But poor and disabled just feels like someone is beating the fuck out of me and every few minutes they stop for just long enough to help me up and let ms pull myself together and there’s a momentary glimmer of hope until they go right back to beating the fuck out of me. I feel like eventually I won’t be able to get up or pull myself together anymore. I don’t fucking know.

Anyway at least I have a place to stay!! At least I have something to eat!! I can make tea if I want!! My eyesight is going slowly enough that my glasses are still usable!! The fact that I even have glasses in the first place!! The fact that I have any clean water at all, even if it only stays hot for three minutes. I can still take a shower. I have books to read. There a lot of ways in which my body and mind have not yet let me down. Honestly how dare I complain about anything I guess??? I don’t fucking know how I’m supposed to feel

[spiderlegeyelashes]

yesterday at my friend's house we were dicking around watching stupid shit and taking shots (we were supposed to have sangria, but it turned out so disgusting and nobody wanted to go to the store to buy better alcohol so we decided to just take shots of the vodka we were supposed to add into the pot and make a drinking game out of it) and well i got too cocky as is my habit with taking shots and when my friend jokingly said they still have the raki from last time and i should finish it i said id do it. big mistake i ended up throwing up so much on her bathroom floor AND got a nosebleed its humiliating. interestingly my first instinct was to lock the door behind me when i started throwing up to make sure nobody would witness the mess i made and the moment i stopped throwing up i got to cleaning it. like i knew it'd be fine and they're my friends and this is a normal stupid thing to have happen, no need to be too ashamed of it, but when things get ugly the only thing i want to do is make sure i'm alone so i can clean my mess up and only let people in once it's tidy. spent like 40 minutes in that bathroom cleaning my sick off the floor with my nose bleeding and vomiting every once in a while and unclogging the toilet with my bare hands cause the paper i was cleaning the floor with would clog it every few flushes and oh my goddd it was a mess and whats interesting is that the moment i locked that door it felt like i had clipped through time and i just stopped being a real human living in the moment but just someone watching myself wipe and puke and dig and giggle. didnt cry cuz it wasnt sad in fact i was kinda laughing because hey im gonna remember this and its going to be q funny story but maaaaaaaan does this say a few things about me. NOT SUBTLE AT ALL!

[hexalene]

rant below I’m struggling with my health and mobility and it sucks and I need to get this off my chest

A disk in my spine is herniated and I can’t walk I can’t DO ANYTHING without absolutely excruciating pain

The only thing I can do without crying from pain is lay on the ground not even my bed JUST THE FLOOR

Walking: 13/10 absolute nightmare agony my whole body just collapses to the right and I go down no matter what. I can make it like…5 steps then I’m down for half an hour

Sitting: 20/10 fuck my life literally cannot sit this makes DRIVING near impossible

I drove to the pharmacy to get my meds to try and help this and this is like, a 7 minute drive. 15 with traffic. Literal straight line down the highway. It took me THREE HOURS to make the drive because I had to keep pulling over and putting ice and heat packs on my back and lay down in the seat to try and stop the agony it was AWFUL I was literally crying from pain trying to drive and just PRAYING that nobody called the cops to check on me it was so miserable.

And I’m no wuss, my pain tolerance is high, so I tried to drive to work and I almost went off the road when my leg spasmed and slammed down on the gas, I swear to god I met Jesus for a second because I almost drove straight into a DEEP reservoir. And like holy shit?? Like this shit hurts but I didn’t expect I’d LOSE CONTROL of my leg like holy shit

So now I’m not driving. I haven’t really told anyone in my life what exactly happened, but I’ve been telling them the pain is too bad. I had to email work and be like I can’t make it in, like I literally can’t drive, here’s my doctor’s appointment please don’t fire me

(It’s a government job and I’m a good employee I don’t think they’ll fire me but god the stress of being incapable of working is stressing me the FUCK out)

And it fucking SUCKS because I’ve been doing everything I can??? I did my physical therapy, I exercised I followed my restrictions, I took my meds I did everything I can?????????

I’m so tired.

My apartment has devolved into a hoard

Here’s a SUPER FUN CHALLENGE lay on the floor, on your left side, ONLY your left side, and DONT MOVE YOUR LEGS OR LOWER BODY AT ALL. If you do, you WILL EXPLODE, so don’t move them

Now fold your laundry. Cook. Go to the bathroom.

While you go to the bathroom, make sure you take a railroad spike and start hammering it into the hip joint right at your back.

SIKE you’ve got 24 seconds before your leg spasms out of pain and forces you off the toilet no matter where you are in the process SO WORK FAST YOURE NOT ACTUALLY IN CONTROL OF THIS SHIT

the pain is so bad and you can’t bathe properly from a laying down position and your genuinely loving wonderful parents consider canceling their vacations to come and help you but you’ve ALWAYS been VERY INDEPENDENT like your whole life you’ve always been able to everything yourself so you convince them not to cancel and lie and say it’s all good and it’s not. It’s really not. You can’t take the trash to the dumpster. You can’t carry water over to water your dying plants, you can’t stand and reach long enough to empty your dishes and sweep and wash and you’ve got to eat somehow

You’ve got to eat somehow so you make food and use the utensils you’ve got and now another trash bag is being formed and you CANT get rid of it and you can’t carry anything and

And you know you’re hurting yourself more like this, because the more it hurts the more you aggravate it the more likely it is that your immune system will start EATING YOUR SPINE

I’m so tired.

I’m so tired of being in pain. I’m so tired of living in a messy apartment. I’m so tired of all of this

I can’t get dressed properly. I can’t keep my hair brushed, I can’t do my nails I can’t CLEAN, I can’t WALK I can’t do anything but lie down and just ROT and wait for my doctors appointment and im so tired

I want to clean my apartment and my bathroom

I can’t stand and I’ve been forced to crawl around and it makes me sooooo aware of how dirty everything is

I just want to be normal again I want to be able to walk and drive and go to work and hang out with my friends and see my family and BE THERE for my family without being the burden in pain and I’m so so so fucking tired of my body not working like it used to

This CANT be the rest of my life, it just CANT I CANT be LIKE THIS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE I CANT

Please pleas please let this end, please let this be something I can fix please let there be something I can do to make it better please let this be temporary please please please let this be temporary

I’m so tired

[plumbogs]

Hal and new brother Nery go to class. what else is new

The new fraternity class photo is up :) it's a little smaller since the old one ended up covering a few more semesters of students at a time, but that's fine.

Benedick does some mediocre standup before he is forced to clean the kitchen.

And Jimmy's graduating today! Along with Sheldon, the dormie who I may or may not actually do anything with. Who knows?

The party starts off strong.

meanwhile, the guests gather to enjoy some salad together. the household has 5 members for today, and all of them are getting into shit constantly.

I don't know hwat just happened. I think she and Bottom had a single negative interaction and she lost her crush because of it. Tragic.

A lot goes on. People are having good times and bad times. Most of it is pretty standard, but the party went well.

Jimmy proposed to Angela when he had the chance! very cool.

We have graduates! they leave to go move downtown.

i forgot that he kinda dislikes alex due to the category 5 bisexuality event of like, 5 rounds ago. they had an argument by the piano.

they make a medicine for that though.

then it's halloween costume time. Hal's going as this mummy that has oddly exposed clavicle.

Nery's in a tutorial joe costume.

nobody cared who benedick was until he put on the mask...

LIMITED EDITION FRAT BATHROOM SPAGHETTI SERVED ON THE FLOOR! COME EAT!

goodnight sweet prince