#I can’t wait to see what happens next!

[sleep-drink]

Exhumes a corpse in honor of @partycoffin

😔✊🎉

[st-hedge]

I hadn’t drawn the house of hades boys in years! Curse me! This isn’t exactly a remake of an old painting but it’s in the vibe of how I used to draw them all the time. Poetic and stealing kisses

[roguelov]

Adrienne sweetheart I wish you the best and deserve the world but please don’t piss off the anthropomorphic personification of dreams

𓅨 Shifting Wings: Chapter Three

Shifting Wings: Before the Raven Matthew, there was Jessamy, and Jessamy came with a little sister by the name of Adrienne. Dream adores his two little Ravens, but after over a hundred years of imprisonment and the death of Jessamy, Dream will find that he has not just lost his companion, but his beloved little Raven Adrienne no longer brightens the halls of his Palace. None of his staff wish to speak of where the Raven has gone, but the silent new resident of the palace is cause for question. After all, she was the one who aided in his release. If none of his subjects would help him find Adrienne, perhaps she could lead him to the whereabouts of the missing Raven. If only the woman wasn’t so flighty and hard to track down.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x FemaleRaven!Reader, NAMED Reader (I like the name).

Word Count: ~2.0k

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You were fairly sure that Jessamy had caught on to what you were doing. It wasn’t like you were trying to hide it. You were very angry. You were also very hurt. You and Jessamy had started this journey in this strange new realm, together, and now she was going to be gone? Always at the side of the Lord and King of the realm? You were so angry, so angry indeed.

Twisting your way through a hall, you fluttered your way towards the back exit of the palace, doing everything you could to out fly your clever and faster older sister. You may not be as smart and wise as her, but you weren’t stupid and had your ways of giving your sister the slip. So you ducked out of the palace and swooped through the gardens that Mervyn cared for.

It was all too easy to get lost among the flowers and bushes, leaves and branches. You found yourself sitting on a bench overlooking a little pond with a fountain you didn’t quite understand how it worked. But it did drown out your explosive thoughts. Sighing, you looked down at your stick like bird legs and tapped the stone bench beneath you with your foot, trying to find the courage and will power to not be mad at Jessamy for her choice.

“Your sister is looking for you, little one,” Stiffening in place, your head snapped around as you hoped in place and went on the defense. A dark haired man was standing nearby, looking down at you with pretty eyes that flickered with stars. Your eyes dropped to the inner lining of his coat and you could have sworn that you saw the night sky within. He looked a lot like a certain king that Lucienne told you about.

“I don’t want to talk to her,” You softly rumbled out, facing the fountain once more and stamping your feet around nervously.

“Perhaps not,” Morpheus agreed, nodding his head in understanding before observing you further. Jessamy had described you as gregarious, brave, and compassionate. But she had also said that you were still immature due to your age, fussy at times, and headstrong. Quite the mix but intriguing none the less. Your parents had kept you forcefully sheltered for fear of you getting injured or worse, which led you to be on the rebellious side. “But have you given her a chance to speak of her reasons for accepting my offer?”

Your lip would have curled if you had one.

“It doesn’t matter, she is still abandoning me,” You growled out, snapping your wings shut with a huff.

“Jessamy, is an adult, Adrienne, and doesn’t she deserve to make her own decisions?” You grudgingly admitted to yourself that he had a point.

“So I’m just supposed to be by myself now? Alone!?” You snapped. “We’re dead and she’s all I have left and you are taking. Her. Away. From. ME!” You stared up at Dream of the Endless with a gaze that matched Jessamy’s intense one, and the being was sure you had no idea how alike in strength you were to your sister.

“You speak as if you will never see her again, it is not my intention to take her away from you. She can assist me in my duties, and in return I will give her peace of mind that nothing shall ever happen to you.” You blinked at him before a scowl blazed across your raven face and you stamped your little foot yet again.

“That’s almost worse!” You exclaimed with anger. Morpheus raised an eyebrow to you.

“It is a mutually beneficial agreement, Adrienne, and one that your sister made willingly.” The Endless pointed out, watching as the gears turned in your brain. You sighed. You were willing to relent to that, but you wanted everyone to stop treating you like a child.

“I’m not a child that needs to be coddled,” You grumbled beneath your breath, tapping your foot on cool stone. Morpheus could understand your view, but you still held an innocence that all who saw you could sense. As his raven, he was going to protect that. Protect you.

“Of course not,” He agreed before looking back at the palace. “Come, little one, I have something to show you that you might appreciate.” You eyed him with suspicion, before hopping forward and flapping your wings. As Morpheus began walking, you took to the air and followed him, wondering what he had to show you.

Jessamy had warned him that if you didn’t feel like you had a place or purpose, you very well may become a problem. He couldn’t have that. But he wasn’t going to let one of his ravens suffer. It was simple enough to change one of the empty rooms in the palace into one that you could make your own, and therefore stay out of his business. Keep you busy, keep you out of the way. So guiding you through the palace, Dream gestured for you to enter what would be your space. You entered and hovered in place for a few moments.

Scattered throughout the room was art supplies. Easels, paint brushes, pencils, canvas, graphite. It was an artists playground… but you had no hands. You swooped over to a table and landed before turning to Morpheus.

“This is all very nice, Lord Morpheus,” You stated dryly before flapping your wings in emphasis. “But I don’t have hands.” He arched his eyebrow challengingly at you.

“Oh? You give up so easily?” The narrowing of your eyes told him all he needed to know. Hook. Line. Sinker.

1837, The Dreaming

Twisting your head and neck, you fluttered around the air while dragging your paintbrush across the canvas sitting on your easel. You were almost done with your painting of a clearing within Fiddler’s Green. It was your favorite place to visit you found and your enhanced memory and eyesight, not to mention your highly developed skill, you could replicate the view within your studio quite well.

Pulling back from the canvas, you dropped the paintbrush into your bucket of water and flapped your way to the perch in front of the easel to see how the painting was coming along. You had the background all done, and the line details you were currently working on, were almost done. There were just a few areas that you weren’t satisfied with.

You had already added the little sprites that had lingered in the background while you were scoping out the place. Even with one hundred years of practice you still had difficulty with fine lines, between using your beak and feet to grasp the paintbrushes, you were far from being a master… but you were pretty damn proud of what you could produce. Especially since everyone considered you to be the Palace artist.

“I am missing something, I know it.” You chittered to yourself, cocking your head side to side and moving around to get different views.

“Or you are simply overanalyzing your work, little one,” At the sound of Morpheus’s voice, you swiveled your head around to look at the dark and brooding dream lord.

“Well then why do I have a nagging feeling that it needs something else?” You asked, waving a wing at the painting. “If you are going to disturb me, you might as well be useful.” Morpheus raised an eyebrow at you and resisted the urge to snort.

“Useful?” He repeated, enjoying your lack of fear for treating him just like any other dream or nightmare you came across. Morpheus walked closer and examined the painting. He knew this exact clearing and found that you had captured it exactly as it was. “Adrienne I do not see why you wish to improve that which is already perfection.”

Grumbling and shuffling your wings, you looked back at your painting and struggled to see what he could, that you could not.

“It’s still missing something,” You muttered to yourself, in disagreement with your lords opinion. Morpheus’s lips twitched and he looked around your studio.

“When was the last time you left this studio?” He asked, already knowing the answer but wanting you to admit it. You shifted uncomfortably, before sighing indignantly.

“It’s been a couple of days,” You quietly admitted.

“As I expected,” Morpheus answered, turning on his heel and striding for the exit. “Come along, Adrienne. I am sure some fresh air will remedy your issue.”

It did no good to protest, because he would just summon you with his sand if you refused, so you reluctantly followed him. Morpheus led you out to the gardens, and then to the specific section that you were fond of. You fluttered over to the bench and touched down, stretching out your wings before neatly folding them.

“Okay, I’m out here and I still don’t know what’s wrong with it.” You said, looking at Morpheus.

“Nothing good comes from impatience, Adrienne.”

“Yes and by the time I figure it out I will be old and grey.” You complained as Morpheus took a seat next to you. “And why are you both still so annoyingly protective over what dreams and nightmares I talk to? It’s not like they’re going to hurt me…”

“Perhaps not physically, but your heart is still vulnerable.” Morpheus pointed out, thinking back to all the dreams and nightmares Jessamy had threatened bodily harm should they ever break your heart. Dream of the Endless included. He had taken quite a liking to you and Jessamy, observant as always, had zeroed in on that fact immediately. The Endless did have the reputation of falling in love quite quickly.

“Whatever your intentions are with my sister, if you break her heart I shall gladly break yours.”

His faithful companion had been dead serious when she spoke those words… but Morpheus did get the over protective ravens approval.

“And who exactly is going to break my heart, sir?” You fired back. “I don’t exactly have suitors lining up. Besides, who would want to court a bird!?” You flapped your wings in emphasis.

“And how many times must I tell you that you are a raven.” Morpheus corrected you. “And a very beautiful one too.” You huffed at his words.

“I miss my old body,” You stated loudly, waving your wings up and down yet again. “I miss holding hands and being able to smile and giving Jess a hug. I miss it so much, I miss touching people.”

“You are a raven now, Adrienne, it does you no good to long for what you cannot have.” That put a bitter taste in your mouth and you turned away from him. Yet another reminder that your life would never be the one you wanted. The one you craved. Dream could see the unhappiness on your face, but this was how things worked. How the rules worked. How Morpheus worked. Even when he knew that it made you incredibly sad. “Don’t let the past haunt you.”

You still refused to look at Morpheus, now somewhat angry. But then gentle fingers were tracing the opal splashed across your back and wings. You contemplated ruffling your wings and knocking his fingers from them, but it felt nice to have physical touch. Was it not what you craved?

“It is consuming you, little one,” Morpheus gently spoke, feeling your desire and envy to have what you once had. “So much that one might mistake you for a creation of my sibling.”

“I am nothing like Desire,” You snapped out over your shoulder, setting your black eyes on Morpheus with a glare. “Why would you liken me to them!?”

“Because you are letting your desire for your old life darken your beauty.”

“I’m a raven, Morpheus,” You pointed out while flaring your wings. He withdrew his touch as you did so. “I’m already darkened by the night, how could my wish for my old body turn me any darker?”

“There are far worse fates than becoming my raven,” Morpheus warned you, his fingers brushing the underside of your neck and tilting your head back to look him in the eyes. “Or is it so terrible that you’ve become miserable within this realm?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I am trying to keep you safe from those that might seek to hurt you.”

“I don’t need protecting!” You protested with a hop.

“You do not know of the dangers that lurk outside of my realm, Adrienne, and I will not see any harm come to you.” Morpheus explained, his eyes glimmering with stars. “I care too deeply for you to risk it.”

Date Published: 5/17/23

Last Edit: 5/17/23

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[barbiequed]

[yetanotheralien-heartemoji]

Drawing under the cut

[coolerfox]

finished turnabout legacy and i’m so so sad Gregory Edgeworth cared so much for Miles i’m gonna cry

[live-love-be-unique]

Oh I am already hooked!

“to find not one, but two soldiers gecko’d to the standing whiteboard in the sitting area.” - this part had me cackling! 🤣

How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies.

Summary: Step One: host a brainstorming session with your teammates on how best to kidnap your future abductee. Step Two: have said abductee show up half an hour into the session and begin correcting your entire plan. Step Three: realise at the beginning of their impromptu presentation the target has absolutely no idea that they’re the target. Step Four: fail anyway.

Pairing: Dark!Poly!Task Force 141 x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Content tags: Dark content - Discussions around kidnapping, tense situations. If this is not your cup of tea, please go and find something different might better suited your palate. This is an 18+ fic meaning minors do not interact with this work. No one has permission from me to repost, copy or translate my work. No one has my permission to put my work into any AI source.

Notes: This is my first foray into the COD fandom and will be the first part in a dark comedy series. Please let me know what you think. Not proofread very well, sorry for any mistakes! Thanks for the motivation @live-love-be-unique !

Link to Task Force 141 masterlist / Link to COD masterlist

Captain John Price likes to think he knows his men well enough to trust them when his back is turned. Now that itself doesn’t necessarily mean knowing each and every one of their dirty secrets - he definitely wouldn’t come out smelling like fresh daisies if any number of his were revealed - but it does mean that he has the awareness to recognise that they all share one particular secret.

He sees it in the way Lieutenant Riley’s body language shifts when you give him his medical forms to look over, your consideration at offering him the option to disclose only certain personal information making the reserved soldier relax just enough to offer you a low thanks, accompanied with a stare that stretches on for a few moments longer than considered socially polite.

It’s also so amazingly obvious with Sergeant MacTavish. John’s surprised everyone else misses the way Soap’s smile takes a little longer to fade after departing for yet another mission, your swift congratulations on completing yet another physiotherapy appointment - “ Keep it up the good work big guy” - leaving the Scotsman floating on cloud nine damn near until the plane lands.

And how could he forget Sergeant Garrick? The man’s quick to change his tune and focus up, but the captain has observed Kyle absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder, thumb gingerly stroking the spot where your palm was only moments before, your figure long gone as you retreat down the corridor to where you came from.

No, Jonathan Price doesn’t miss a thing about his men. And it only takes two weeks and a long chat in the corner booth of the bar one quiet night - sans you or Laswell - before somehow his place becomes the meeting point for an unusual, though not unwelcome, topic - you.

More specifically, how to keep you.

The wooden shit box of a sports bar was where the first two facts were confirmed amongst them: 1. Every single one of the 141 men wanted you for themselves, but they weren’t above sharing. 2. You weren’t worth killing each other over, not when there was a much easier solution staring them in the face.

John’s house became the go-to place to discuss fact number three - They needed a plan.

It was Gaz who initially suggested the whiteboard after numerous interjections from Ghost and John; from everything to how to keep this from Laswell, to deciding which of your usual hangouts would provide them with the best opportunity to commence your “relocation”, to how to delicately but firmly explain said "relocation" to you once it was complete. Kyle loves his brothers in arms and never regrets a moment where his life is on the line if it means saving any one of them, but his patience began to wear thin when Soap got bored and started using goddamn paper planes instead of words to get his point across. At that Price finally relented and bought the damn thing.

Now, John was expecting you to pop by his place on Wednesday night to drop some papers off. A perfect opportunity, were it not for the fact that the gentlemen were still disagreeing on where to relocate you. However, it’ll allow you to grow more comfortable with him while he has some alone time with you, your presence like a balm on a wound - soothing and necessary (at least to him).

He had been looking forward to seeing you… tomorrow. So when you turn up not just on the doorstep but in the middle of the bloody hallway in his own bloody home halfway through the 141 “guys night”, his secondary action of shitting bricks quickly overrides his primary instinct to eliminate the threat.

He’s on his way back from the bathroom when he sees you standing, familiar folders firm in your grasp - fucking hell, is that his spare key too? - and a sour expression on your pretty face.

Your eyes narrow further when you spot him, striding over with fury rolling off you in small waves. “Captain Price, I know you did not leave these dossiers on my desk just before the end of my work day with a note stating they all need to be completed by the end of the work day.”

John’s senses are briefly overwhelmed by you being so close to him, the sight of you angry having a different effect on him than what you had originally intended. He’s never seen it before, and his hand twitches when you’re less than a foot away - fluctuating adrenaline or the desire to reach out and hold you, he’s not sure which is more prevalent. 

He always forgets to not be so obvious around you, but it isn’t as though you usually notice. (He’s not sure if the thought should make him feel sad or grateful.)

The sounds of his men arguing in the background, merely the next room over, are enough to bring reality crashing down hard.

His voice is deliberately loud and stalwart when replies. “You can’t be here.”

“Tough shit. Your lads night can wait.” You lean past him to the origin of what your gut was telling you was the sounds of the remaining 141 members quarreling. It’s easy to slip past Captain Price once your mind is set, the push of files against his chest preventing him from reacting for a few seconds - all the time you need to move down the hallway to where everyone else is bound to be.

John is quick to rush behind you, the arguing noises having swiftly changed to near cartoon-like crashes just moments before you enter the room. 

Ghost has migrated to the corner of the sitting area, standing as stiff as a fucking nutcracker, a mountain of crumpled notes and paper planes spilling out from between his arms. (His mask is still on thank god because it’ll hide exactly how caught out he feels, and if there’s one thing Simon Riley cannot stand it’s feeling like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar). His eyes instinctually watch your every move, waiting for your reaction.

Both of your gazes drift to the other side of the room, with neither of you failing to notice how the couch cushions are strewn widely across the space, (with one being stuck on top of a bookshelf for some odd reason) to find not one, but two soldiers gecko’d to the standing whiteboard in the sitting area.

Their demolitions expert is currently splayed out on the left side of the board and desperately grabbing the top of its metal frame, his stomach pressed into the cold porcelain and a left leg hitched up in a poor attempt to conceal the incriminating writing.

Price’s protégé is in a similar state. Dear Gaz has his back against the right side, with his arms outstretched to - much like Johnny - cover as much of their group planning as possible, a coloured marker clasped in each fist.

Two deers in headlights.

The sight of his task force is enough to bring back flashbacks of his original conversation with Kate about bringing these men together because Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck was he thinking?

There are a few moments when nobody moves or dares to breathe…

… except for you, of course.

You waste no time walking over to the two youngest members of the 141 as you attempt to shove them off the board. “Move,” you demand, palms pushing firmly against their sides. “I want to know what’s so important to everyone.” When they refuse, you do your best to stare at them, pleading with a pleasantly soft, “Please.”

Yeah, they both do what you say with ease when they hear that, giving you enough space to take in the somewhat smudged scribbles.

You miss the signal John gives Simon, the Ghost moving closer to your position as John quietly locks the door, and when your attention is drawn back to the board after the other two move you also miss all of the knowing looks shared behind your back. This was very far from ideal, but how can they recover from this?

They hope you understand that whatever comes next, they didn’t plan for it to start this way.

Kyle and John call your name but you ignore them, still processing the information written in front of you.

Johnny flexes his hands, preparing for the worst as you step back and say, “This is… bullshit.”

Every single member stops. That was not the reaction they were expecting.

Turning to face the group, you scoff. “I’m not even kidding. Firstly, you’re using guys' night to work, which is horrible for your mental and emotional health. And you should all know better.”

Four sets of brows furrow in united confusion. You don’t let that deter you from continuing, your arms gesturing haphazardly at the whiteboard. “Secondly, this is hands-down one of the worst brainstorms I have ever seen. This is not cohesive in the fucking slightest. Garrick, mark me.”

Kyle chokes on his spit, his brain short-circuiting before he sees your fingers wiggling at one of the markers he’s holding. The sergeant promptly gives it to you.

Your free hand takes turns pointing at everyone else in the room, a verbal command of, “sit down” directed at each man also. Dumbly and cautiously they all do. Ghost places himself at the end of the couch nearest the entrance, John strategically chooses a spot between yourself and the kitchen, and Soap and Gaz sit closest to you, where the two of them can hear you muttering under your breath as you draw what appears to be a massive cloud shape in the middle of the board.

Once completed, you fill your shape in with the word ‘TARGET’ and slam your free hand against the board. No one flinches, but if one were to look closely there would be some eyes widening in response. Johnny swears he sees one of your eyelids twitch.

“So,” you call out, “what do we know about the target?”

There are not only wide eyes looking at you, there are full glances exchanged between your audience.

“Seeing as you had the nerve to not invite me in your little meeting while keeping me on overtime” - Kyle and John squirm at that, and your finger makes a little circle - “we are going to be working on this project together. With all due respect, I’m not asking.”

Surely not…

And it’s when Captain John Price reviews the writing left over from the others that he realises Kyle and Johnny did one thing right during their clusterfuck of a coverup.

They managed to erase your name.

… you have absolutely no idea you are the target.

 A piece of writing far in the coroner catches your attention, and your shoulders slump. “The target likes knitting and ‘The Karate Kid’. In another life we would have been the best of friends.” A dramatic sigh leaves you, “Oh well, at least I’ll be able to give you some insight into the mindset of this individual. Any questions?”

Four hands shoot up.

Rubbing your hands together with glee, a maniac smile grows on your face. “Excellent.”

[the-crimson]

My current theory on the true culprit of the great furniture purge: this is Roier’s enigma he was gonna make for Cellbit off stream and he did so with Richas’s help.

Evidence:

Richas was acting odd all day and his story kept changing with every conversation he had. I don’t trust a single thing that kid said cuz he even admitted he was only saying shit for the drama. His story changed every time someone asked him and he has been known to lie and cover up his parents pranks.

None of Roier’s builds - save the therapy office - we’re looted. Costco was filled with furniture even tho the Pizzaria literally 50 blocks away was looted. Even Roier’s house wasn’t looted when - in the past - Bad has liberated many a piece of furniture from there.

Evidence it was not Bbh:

Even when alone, Bad never dropped the story that it was not him. Cc!Bad is the most rp heavy player on the server with very distinct in character and out of character moments. When he is in character, it doesn’t matter whether he is alone or not, he will never mention meta or the fourth wall. Every other time Bad has pranked someone, the moment he is alone, he starts giggling to himself over the prank. For the entire stream, this did not happen.

If q!Bad did do this, he would have been ten times as thorough XD so many chairs and tables outside of peoples houses were left behind. Appliances like fridges and stoves were left behind. Flower pots and other decorations were left behind. If q!Bad had actually cracked and went on a furniture purge like this, there would be nothing left.

Tallulah and Chayanne’s bedroom was not looted and yet Bad is one of the only people on the server with access. AND there was a shiny blue chair inside the room that had not been touched. We all know blue furniture is Bad’s favorite. If he went on a furniture nabbing spree, this would have been the first thing he stole.

Q!Bad is not stupid. This kind of crime literally only points towards him and would incentivize people to vote for a furniture theft ban!! That is counter to what q!Bad wants! There is no possible logic that could lead to q!Bad being the culprit because he isn’t an idiot lol

In conclusion

I’ll admit, before Bad’s stream I was down for it being him because that would have been hilarious but shortly after he started stream, I knew it wasn’t and over the course of the stream, I became even more resolute in that opinion. It’s a shame that almost no one gave him a second to explain and immediately labeled him guilty but it certainly was fun to watch :D

[rickybaby]

The Ricciardo factor applies

[kpop-s-akura]

I know ENHA just had there comeback, not even a couple of hours ago, but I HAVE to talk and post about my TEAMIES too😭 especially since these photos lowkey just dropped

I’m also listening to the ROMANCE : UNTOLD album as I type this lol. I love my vampires and werewolves💞💓💗

I’m so hyped for &TEAM’s comeback —

LET’S GOOOOOOO‼️‼️

@/andteam_official on Instagram

[corvus-cucullatus]

I’m not sure if I’m the only one who sees this but these two have been spending an awful lot of time together… 👀

They both seemingly have similar moral values and respect each other enough to work together to a great extent. There is a theory that Spinel might betray the Explorers at some point (which I agree with) but, I don’t know, he does seem happy for now to have a scheming partner in Chalce. I wonder if Coral and Sidian are next on the agenda to be kicked out after Amethio…

[raddestrose]

Oh my gosh I finished season four,

I did nothing all day but watch to is show.

Eh, its crunch time so it doesn’t count.

Onto season five with three to go after

Lets goooo

but the day after tomorrow , I’ve stayed up far too late watching this and making bread and i have a long day so I shall resume either late laaate tomorrow or the day after

[kadextra]

haha goodnight everyone mimimimimi ^^

[bondagebimbo]

LOVE when the pharmacy decides to fucking dick around with my meds so badly that now I’m off my mood stabilizer, my pain meds, and my fucking birth control (in a few days) because they’re insisting I should have extra fucking bottles of each one and I DONT because they don’t let me pick up more than a one month supply of narcotics at a fucking time so do explain where these extra bottles are, hmm ????? and they didn’t have enough caplyta ordered last time to even give me my usual 3 months supply of that so … ???? get your fucking heads out of your asses and give me the fucking meds you owe me ??? like ??? but I’m in a nasty headspace right now so if I call the pharmacy this morning, I’m going to be that cunt ass customer they bitch about all day because this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. in fact, the first time, they straight up committed insurance fraud by marking one of my scripts as filled and picked up WHEN, IN REALITY, THEY FUCKING LOST THE SCRIPT AND HAD NO RECORD OF IT BEING FILLED OR PICKED UP IN THEIR SYSTEM, BUT YET, MARKED IT AS SUCH AND CHARGED MY INSURANCE AN ALMOST 8 GRAND FOR THE FUCKING 3 MONTHS OF MY MOOD STABILIZER THAT I. NEVER. RECEIVED. I’m genuinely about to report this entire pharmacy to the pharmacy board because I’m so fucking done with this place. it needs to be shut the fuck down because you’re telling me, out of an entire pharmacy, y’all share the same IQ point AND dead brain cell, collectively ??? then don’t fucking work in healthcare where people rely on you to know your shit and keep track of their fucking meds because you’re just constantly making shit worse on people since you can’t seem to not fuck around with these meds and not ‘lose’ scripts. fuck out of here.

and I’m pretty much out of weed, which is usually my back up pain management method, without the money to afford a delivery order by their cut off time to order in 3 hours because I just paid my fucking bills and have SOME to go towards it, but not enough for delivery to be free, and I’d still have to walk my ass to one of the ATM’s nearby because they don’t accept my bank as a prepaid method OR any of the cards I have on my person. 🫠

I can literally feel my back spasming and seizing on and off while I’m laying on my fucking side, I’ve had a migraine with a stupid ass aura for almost a week now because chronic migraines fucking suck and i was REALLY hoping this one would be over by now, my muscle inflammations that my pain meds are supposed to limit are already beginning to start their itching deep in my muscles so soon they’ll blossom into a whole fibromyalgia fucking episode and become entirely inflamed, my joints in my hands fucking hurt because of the dreary weather so I really need to get into a rheumatologist at some point soon as well and get that shit figured out, I’m nauseas as fuck from all the pain, and I’m moody, hormonal, and just feel like fucking death physically.

I’m just. I give up.

this shit is exhausting and painful and so mentally fucking taxing to constantly deal with and I just want a fucking break from all this fucking shit. I wish I could just … not exist … for even just a little while with how fucking painful existing actually feels right now 🫠😭

[sorvelle]

“Who is Jon?”

JON.

JON?

Like Jonathan Sims, former head archivist of the Magnus Institute, London? STATEMENT BE—

[loulooser]

Can I start liking people that don’t turn out to be horrible people or just outright the wrong people