#but i need to drive to get a job to afford doctors so i can get back on my meds

[lesbianshepard]

they should invent a driving a car that isn't scary

[tchotchkez]

damn y'all work really does got me Tired About Eyeballs

[steddieas-shegoes]

a birthday halfway forgot

for @corrodedcoffinfest pop-up event 'birthday boy' using the prompt 'birthday' and 'age 30'

rated e, minors dni | 3132 words | no cw | tags: famous corroded coffin, band manager steve, established relationship, fucking on a motorcycle is ill-advised but they do it anyway, hand jobs, anal sex, domestic fluff

🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️

He’s looking at the calendar in shock. He didn’t know. He didn’t realize.

It’s January 26th.

It’s Eddie’s 30th birthday. It’s Gareth’s 27th birthday.

Somehow, he lost track of dates in all of the chaos of planning the next tour and being so focused on the April through September parts of the calendar.

“Shit.”

He immediately calls Jeff because he’s sure the next most mature human being in their codependent group of misfits hasn’t forgotten. There’s no way Jeff forgot.

“Shit,” he says when Steve asks.

He forgot.

“Okay. It’s not the end of the world! It’s still early.”

Steve looks at the clock. It is early, but they don’t have time to plan something.

“Make a reservation at that Italian place they both like. The one with the fried meatballs. I’ll get cake. It’ll be fine,” Steve is good in crisis. He’s proven time and time again how quickly he can fix problems on tour. He can do it for this, too. “They won’t know we forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Eddie asks from behind Steve.

“The appointment we made for everyone to see the doctor before tour!” Steve says, way too loud to be considered normal.

Luckily, Eddie is used to Steve being a little manic during the planning stages of tour and doesn’t question his volume or strained smile.

“Is that Gare? He was supposed to call me when he got up,” Eddie steps closer. “It’s almost noon; There’s no way he’s still asleep.”

“It’s Jeff.”

“Jeffery!” Eddie grabs the phone from Steve’s hand and waves his free hand around. “Haven’t you taken my husband away from me enough lately?”

Steve rolls his eyes. It’s not his fault they choose to handle most things themselves instead of outsourcing all the tour management to the label. It’s better if Steve and Jeff take care of things.

They talk for a few minutes and Steve decides he needs to pull out the phone book to find a bakery. It’s gonna be a hell of a challenge to find someone capable of personalizing a cake within a few hours, but if anyone can, it’s Steve.

Eddie ends up driving to Gareth’s instead of waiting for his call, which makes Steve’s life a lot easier. He finds a bakery— only had to call six before someone was willing— and tries not to worry too much about how much he’s paying just for a cake. They have money. They can afford an expensive cake.

Eddie and Gareth deserve it.

Steve cannot believe he forgot.

||||||||||||

“You forgot,” Eddie laughs.

The restaurant is empty except for the guys and a handful of staff ready to wait on their every want and need. There’s a balloon on the centerpiece of the table and one gift sitting next to it.

Steve groans.

“Jeff forgot, too.”

Eddie kisses his temple and walks over to the gift. Steve knows it’s Gareth’s gift. Eddie’s can’t be wrapped.

“Hey!” Jeff exclaims, but Eddie waves him off.

“We didn’t forget your birthdays, we just forgot what day it was entirely,” Steve continues. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says and really means it. Eddie doesn’t get upset about this stuff, Steve knows that. “Gareth and I had a bet.”

“That’s what you had to go over to talk to him about?” Steve looks over at Gareth, who is flirting with the waitress while everyone else sits at the table. “How much did you bet?”

“He bet that you guys forgot and wouldn’t remember until we told you. $200.”

“And you?”

Eddie laughs. “I bet that you’d remember in time to pull off a surprise but just barely. $500.”

“Wow. Does he even have that kinda money laying around?” Steve jokes. He does. They all do. They have more money than they need. Their money has money. Literally. It’s accruing interest in accounts.

“You know exactly how much money I have,” Gareth says as he lays an arm around Steve’s shoulders and smacks a kiss on his cheek. “You balanced my checkbook last week and I swear I’ve only spent a few grand since.”

Steve knows he’s joking, but his heart stutters in his chest anyway. Just because they have it doesn’t mean they should be frivolous with it. He knows they all know that, but Gareth is still quick to sign a check for pleasure sometimes.

“Happy birthday, Gare,” Steve says as he leans his head on top of Gareth’s. “Sorry we forgot a little.”

“Eh, it was only a little. We’re celebrating now. Plus, I’m only turning 27. Grandpa over here should start drafting his retirement announcement.”

“I would, but I haven’t developed arthritis yet,” Eddie says as he grabs one of the fried meatballs from the plate near the end of the table. “At the rate you crack your knuckles, you’ll be celebrating your 28th in a care facility.”

“Alright, enough. Let’s order drinks and stop making the staff nervous,” Steve starts to gather everyone to the table, take the lead the way he usually does. It’s natural, and easy, and fun. He likes being the beacon of responsibility for this group. It’s different from his role with the kids in Hawkins— less life or death most of the time— but still a glorified babysitter position. “Behave like the adults you claim to be.”

“Wayne Munson just came out of your mouth,” Eddie says as he sits. “Not sure I like it.”

Steve ignores the bait. He’ll never get them all to be decent guests at this restaurant if he keeps going back and forth with Eddie.

They spend so much time together already, but it’s never difficult to be around each other. They really are codependent at this point; Where one goes, at least one more will follow and he’ll bring beer and sarcasm.

Gareth opens his present, eyes shining when he sees that everyone chipped in to get him the record player he loved when they went to an old record shop in Chicago. It was considered antique and the owner of the shop wasn’t even interested in selling it to him, but Steve is a convincing guy, and the rest of the guys pulled out their own checkbooks to make it happen.

They grabbed a few records for him, too, but he’s already talking about the list he has and where they can find them. Everyone listens because it’s his birthday, only throwing in jibes occasionally instead of constantly. It’s his birthday so they’re taking it easy.

“I guess my gift is these fried meatballs,” Eddie finally says. He doesn’t sound disappointed; That’s how much he loves the fried meatballs.

“Your gift is at home,” Steve pats his knee, dismissive.

Eddie wiggles his brows. “From everyone or just you?”

“Part of it is from everyone,” Steve allows.

“I’m ready to go!” Eddie claps his hands. “Thanks for coming, happy birthday to my birthday twin, blah blah blah.”

Frankie rolls his eyes and reaches for one of the meatballs on Eddie’s plate.

“Just remember the part that came from all of us is not the part you’re so excited about,” he says with his mouth full.

“Love you all, but I definitely have no interest in fucking any of you. See ya!” He waves as he gets up and leaves.

Everyone looks at Steve. He pats Gareth on the shoulder and smiles at everyone else.

“See you guys tomorrow. Not early, though. Unless you wanna see something you’ll never forget,” Steve winks.

Everyone groans but they wave and say goodbye with smiles on their faces.

Eddie’s sitting in the passenger seat when Steve gets to the car. He’s a passenger princess through and through and Steve loves him for it.

“Step on it, baby!”

Steve steps on it, but maintains the speed limit because the last thing they need is a ticket.

||||||

He doesn’t park in the garage because he can’t.

Eddie’s immediately suspicious.

“It’s supposed to rain early in the morning. Don’t you wanna pull the car in?” He asks.

“Can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t.”

“Oh my god.”

Steve smirks. Eddie unbuckles his seatbelt and practically falls out of the car as he bangs on the garage door.

“Open it!” He yells at Steve, who has the button in the car, but thinks this is way more entertaining than doing what Eddie asks. He could always unlock the door and get inside that way, but he knows Eddie realizes what his present is now.

They went all out for his 30th. Even the kids got involved. Wayne picked it out. This has been their best kept secret for months.

The fact that Steve forgot today was the day is crazy in hindsight. He’s had this date circled as delivery day for nearly a month.

Steve finally pushes the button to open the door and Eddie barely waits for it to be lifted above his waist before he’s ducking inside. He screams. High-pitched, girlish in nature, entertaining as hell. Steve almost wishes he could’ve thought to bring the camcorder with him to record this special moment.

“Steve!” Eddie exclaims when he’s done squealing. “A Harley?!”

Steve casually walks into the garage and wraps his arm around Eddie’s waist, kissing his temple.

“Wayne said this is really close to the one you liked when you two went on that trip together,” Steve explains. “We can always paint it if the color isn’t right.”

“It’s perfect. Don’t touch it. It’s perfect,” he babbles, leaving Steve’s arm to sit on the seat, bouncing once as if to test how squishy the seat is.

It’s squishy. Steve checked.

“The helmet even has bats painted on it!” Eddie reaches for the helmet hanging from the handle. “And my name! Stevie!”

“And the helmet is required. Even if you’re just going to Gareth’s house or to the store. No helmet, no motorcycle,” Steve places his hands on his hips. He means business and Eddie knows it better than anyone that safety comes before fun, always.

“I know, I know. I can’t believe this,” Eddie says, still in awe. “I didn’t think you’d ever cave. Who convinced you?”

See, Eddie’s wanted his own bike for at least four years now, ever since he and Wayne went on a bike tour of the Appalachian Mountains. Steve wasn’t necessarily against it, he just knew they didn’t have much time at home to enjoy it, and he did worry that Eddie wouldn’t prioritize safety over fun if he got carried away.

He hates that Frankie of all people managed to convince him by saying there’s nothing hotter than fucking on a Harley.

He’s hoping Frankie’s right.

Instead of answering the question, Steve presses the button that closes the garage door and walks over to the bike.

“You ready for part two?”

“I don’t even know how this can get any better, but sure,” Eddie looks up at him with wide eyes.

Steve pulls off his shirt, kicks off his shoes, and strips off his pants and underwear. He shivers, but not because he’s cold. Winter looks a lot different in California than it did in Hawkins, that’s for sure.

“Oh my god. I must be dreaming,” Eddie grins as he leans back, making room for Steve to straddle his thighs on the bike.

It’s a sturdy bike, so he’s not too worried about it falling over while they do this, but a small voice in his head is still telling him to make small movements. He’s not letting Eddie fuck him on this thing until they test it like this.

Steve’s half-hard at the thought of Eddie holding him up on this thing, letting him bounce on his cock. Maybe he’s fantasized about Eddie being a mechanic fixing his car and Steve’s only way to pay for the labor is to ride him until they’re both sweaty and messy, oil stains leaving fingerprints on Steve’s skin.

That’s not what’s happening now, and won’t actually happen ever, but this is close enough.

“Been thinking about you touching me all day,” Steve admits. It’s true, but he’s playing it up a little, fluttering his eyelashes a little. “I wanna take a ride, too.”

“I’ve gotta be the luckiest man in the world,” Eddie groans as he wraps his hand around Steve’s length, squeezing the head of his cock and jerking his hand a few times to bring him to full hardness. “I’ve had this exact dream.”

“How’d the dream go?” Steve gasps as Eddie touches him the right way over and over. He’s good at this, always has been. He finds the right pace and pressure, and he just keeps going, listening for any sign that Steve’s not feeling perfect.

“I got to make you come and then lay you down on the seat and lick you clean,” Eddie ends on a moan. “Please let me do that, baby. I’ll do anything.”

Steve nods, would never stop Eddie from doing that. This sounds like a dream he’s had, too.

His hands hold onto Eddie’s shoulders as he tilts his hips up to push into Eddie’s grasp. He’s close, so close already. He doesn’t think they’ll ever stop being embarrassingly quick when they get their hands on each other.

It’s a gift to know someone so well that you feel like teenagers every time you touch each other.

“C’mon,” Eddie nips at Steve’s neck, breath hot against his skin. “Make a mess, baby.”

Steve’s always been good at following directions. He moans as he comes, paints his own stomach and Eddie’s hand, opens his eyes to see cum dripping onto the seat under him. He’s sure Eddie doesn’t mind.

He feels shaky, unstable, but only because the bike rocks under them as Eddie pulls his own shirt off and stands, moving Steve so he’s laying back. It’s far from comfortable, but it’s hot as hell.

Eddie licks the cum off Steve’s stomach and dick, takes his time while Steve sucks on his fingers. They’re both still worked up too much to stop, and now that Steve’s slowly coming down, he realizes he wants Eddie to fuck him. Now.

“Get your pants off,” Steve demands.

“Say please,” Eddie teases before sucking a bruise into Steve’s hip.

“Please,” Steve begs, because it’s Eddie’s birthday and he’s gonna do whatever Eddie wants. Eddie likes when he begs a little, even though they both know there’s no need for it. “Fuck me.”

“You look so good like this,” Eddie says as he shoves his pants off. “Not even sure I need to drive this thing if I can have you like this all the time.”

“No more band? Touring? Just fucking me on your motorcycle?” Steve’s laugh turns into a groan when Eddie’s finger circles his hole. “Not sure we can back out of this tour now.”

“You and I both know I’ll find plenty of places to fuck you on tour,” Eddie smiles down at him. “Comfy or do you need to move?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m okay for now. Just want you inside me.”

Eddie opens him up efficiently, doesn’t rub against his prostate until he’s got three fingers inside him.

Trying to stay still is proving to be difficult, and Steve’s pretty sure their pushing the limits of the kickstand.

“C’mon, I’m good. I’m ready,” Steve says. “Fuck me, Eddie, c’mon.”

Fucking on a motorcycle is not easy to do, but they’ve actually fucked in more difficult positions before.

One time, Steve fucked Eddie over an amp backstage. It wasn’t wide enough for either of them to properly sit on, but they managed. They had bruises and some strange red marks for a day or two, but it was worth it.

Another time, the hotel they were staying in had a balcony. Kind of. It was barely more than a small extension of the room with an iron bar around it, but they put that iron bar to the test. It passed, they were sore.

They have to be slow, slower than they normally would be. Steve doesn’t wanna have to bring it in for scuff marks to be buffed out if it falls over on day one.

If he were less flexible, maybe a little older, he’d have to call it. His legs are tight around Eddie’s waist and he’s using more of his ab muscles than he’s used in years to maintain his own stability.

Eddie blankets himself over Steve, barely moving in and out of him. The friction of Steve’s leaking cock against his stomach is probably enough to get him there.

Eddie brushes Steve’s bangs off his face, kisses his forehead, and moans when Steve clenches around his cock.

“I love you so much,” Eddie whispers. “You’re the best gift.”

Steve kisses him, mouth open, tongue licking over his teeth. It’s wet and messy, and it’s perfect. The phone’s ringing inside the house, but they’re too close to care about trying to answer. They’ll leave a message.

They both come together, whimpering into each others’ mouths as Eddie’s hips stutter and Steve’s legs fall.

Eddie kisses the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his neck. He pulls out slowly, and they both wince at the loss of being filled and being surrounded.

“Let’s get cleaned up. I wanna take this for a ride,” Eddie helps Steve off the bike. “You got a helmet?”

Steve nods. “I assumed you’d want me to come with you at least once.”

“I’ve had dreams, Stevie.”

They both laugh and the phone starts ringing again. Eddie sighs and rushes to get inside.

“Hello?” Steve follows, closing the door behind him. His legs feel numb, almost enough to make him stumble. “Gare, you knew what my gift was and you’re still calling?”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Of course I love it. No, you can’t come over for a ride tonight. No, you can’t drive it. No!” Steve is giggling as he kisses Eddie’s shoulder on his way past him to their room. “I don’t care if it’s your birthday, too. It’s my gift.”

Steve drops his clothes in the basket and goes into the bathroom to start the shower. He has no doubt that they’ll get messy again before the night’s over, but they should try to look decent if they’re taking the Harley out for a spin.

He hears Eddie telling Gareth not to call back until tomorrow as he steps into the hot water.

Gareth will worm his way into driving it by the end of the week, Steve’s sure of it. Eddie’s got a soft spot for him that can be seen from space. That’s why there’s a helmet for Gareth sitting in a box in the living room.

Steve thought of everything.

“Does cum stain leather?” Eddie asks as he steps into the shower.

Steve’s brows furrow.

Maybe he didn’t think of everything.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

September

He doesn’t talk to the Munsons much. (Doesn’t talk to anyone, really, aside from his mom and Robin and that one older woman who keeps renting and returning Gone With The Wind as an excuse to leave her house.) He keeps his head down and his nose clean, doesn’t care to make friends with the neighbors; just wants to get by.

One day Eddie approaches their door, waving a gas bill that got mixed up in their mail, and Steve greets him pleasantly enough.

“Stab anyone today?”

“Eat glass, Harrington.”

So it goes.

Steve watches the world pass and the weather turn, lets the hours bleed into weeks and squeezes his eyes shut against the flashbacks when they threaten to overwhelm.

Things with his mom are weird.

They don’t really speak, preferring to shrug their way past each other with careful, tight-lipped nods, and his mom takes these pills the doctor gave her that keep her perfectly pleasant and calm. Silent. Physically present but not really here.

And he can’t imagine how it feels to be her: Florence Harrington, ripped from the comforts of the upper crust and left to rot in a tin can seven miles across town. She spends most of her time letting out weary little sighs as she swans from room to room, drifting like a shade on the banks of the River Styx. (He can make that reference now because Robin won’t shut up about mythology. “It’s so gay, Steve. The Greeks were literally so gay.”)

Anyway.

Shit’s weird with the kids, too. He still drives them around — lets them loiter at Family Video when it’s slow; hangs around when they need a ride to the arcade or the movies or the skating rink; and he’s still on the hook for ‘ice cream. for. life,’ so…

It’s just not the same.

Like. Not to be dramatic, but who the fuck is Steve Harrington without the house and the pool and the free-for-all fridge? Just some kid with a car and a bat and a punchable face. And he can barely afford to keep the car now, anyway, so pretty soon they won’t need him for that, either. They’ll learn to drive; they’ll get their own jobs. Maybe Lucas builds enough muscle to take over as the party tank.

Maybe it’s better if he shelfs himself now before they realize he’s become obsolete.

“Oh, my god, you’re being pathetic,” he groans to himself. His voice is muffled where he’s lying face down on the couch. Ridiculous behavior, because everything is fine; Steve is fine. In the grand scheme of things where there are monsters and melted corpses and all kinds of crazy, horrible shit?

Yeah.

He’s being obnoxious. It’s a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon with just the right Autumn breeze going — gentle but cool; long sleeve polo weather; his favorite kind — and he’s sitting inside throwing himself a pity party.

Fucking absurd.

…Five more minutes.

Just five more minutes, then he’s getting off this couch.

He gets to a minute and a half when he hears the crunch of tires against the gravel, the clanging of a little bell from the handlebar of a bike, and then:

“STEVE!!!”

And that’ll be Dustin, trying to bang the door off the hinges and piss off the whole park at the same time. Kid’s nothing if not a multitasker. Steve lets another aggrieved groan loose into the couch cushion.

His mom’s out with the car; the lights are all off. Maybe he can just play dead ‘til Dustin leaves? He loves the kid, he really does, but his left ear is full of static, and he just wants to fucking sleep. Or sulk. Or both.

“STEVEN CHRISTOPHER, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”

Jeeeeesus Christ. “Okay, chill,” Steve grumbles as he hauls himself upright and throws open the front door. His limbs feel like lead; there’s drool on his chin. “Wake the whole goddamn neighborhood, why don’t you?”

“It’s two in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, and half the people here work nights.”

“Oh-kayy,” Dustin drags out the word, “but you don’t.”

Ugh. Whatever. He’s not gonna be shamed by a toothless teenager for his depressing loser tendencies. “Did you need something?”

Steve scratches at his belly hair through his shirt, feels a muscle twinge in his shoulder and send a spark of nerve pain skittering up to the base of his skull.

Dustin either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve’s body is falling apart where he stands, because he just rolls his eyes and says, “Uh, yeah. I need to know why you’re avoiding everyone? Mom’s tried to invite you to dinner six times now.”

“I was working.”

“All six times?” Dustin glares. Steve feels a little pinned by it, feels guilt seeping through the cracks as he fidgets with his bad ear. This kid’s gonna be the scariest lawyer some day. “She’s worried.”

Goddammit.

Guilt squeezes hard behind his ribs; he knows Dustin uses his mom as a mouthpiece for the feelings he can’t express. “I’m fine,” he sighs, letting his eyes and voice go soft. “Honest.”

Dustin holds firm, gaze fierce and fists clenched. “Bullshit,” he insists.

“Man, don’t—”

“Bull. Shit.”

Suddenly, their impromptu interrogation gets interrupted by a crashing drum fill, a shriek of electric guitar as Munson’s van squeals into the lot. He’s blasting some melodramatic metal shit about wizards or whatever; Steve doesn’t know. He only knows that the skitter of nerve pain he felt is ramping up to a fullblown migraine now because this guy has to listen to his racket at full fucking volume, apparently, and isn’t this all just “fucking great.”

—

part 5

[snaxle]

I WILL BE OPENING EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS WITHIN THE WEEK

i know majority of the people following me do not follow me for art purposes and so im probably speaking to a brick wall, but if anyone has seen my posts regarding my financial problems and my tablet breaking the other day, i need money.

tldr, the state just took away nearly $1000 worth of income my family makes per month, which is the money we used to pay our rent. more in depth information below the cut

the state just kicked my brother off of SSI, and now we are out of $900 a month (another brother was ALSO kicked off of SSI a few months earlier as well, and as such for the past year my family has been struggling. at the time this wasnt bad enough prior that i felt the need to talk about it, so i never mentioned it). this $900 helped pay for the rent on our house, and without it we are going to be absolutely screwed. not only that, my brothers are all getting kicked off their insurance within the next two months and will probably not be able to get their medication anymore nor go to their monthly doctors appointments anymore because my mom will not be able to afford it (the reason for their medication is not super serious whatsoever, but will affect them badly in the long run if they arent able to take it.) my mom is going to be trying to find a job asap, but she is also disabled and for months now she has been putting in job application after application with no luck whatsoever.

we get no food stamps because the state sees that i live at home and assume that i make enough to afford food for everyone in my house, and the local food pantry quite frankly sucks and often gives out of date food with bugs in it, so we only go for emergencies.

I NEED TO BE ABLE TO SAVE MONEY IN ORDER TO GET MY DRIVERS LICENSE AND GET A CAR. this is a priority. i cannot get anywhere where i live without a vehicle, and my mom has to drive me around. once i get a car, i will be trying to get a second job so i can drive myself, and will then be working on trying to move out in hopes that if i leave my mom is able to get her income back. i CANNOT move out right now, due to the fact that i dont make enough money to afford my own place and i also walk to work everyday. these will not be happening anytime soon unfortunately, but most of the money i save per month was going towards being able to afford a car and a cheap apartment in the near future.

if you saw my post the other day regarding my tablet breaking and me wanting to purchase another one, i will not be buying a new one unless absolutely necessary. my current tablet works enough duct taped up for now. if i make any money from commissions, i will be putting it towards at the very least affording to pay for all my animals necessities, so i can focus on using all the money i make for my family. if you are aware of my ongoing medical problems, i will not be seeking out medical attention for my heart problem for the time being, considering the fact that i do not have insurance and i think any money i would pay for appointments would be better spent elsewhere. i would rather my family can keep a roof over their heads.

i will share the prices i think will be good in a bit, and i am really sorry if theyre expensive. if you read all this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. i will get them set up as soon as i can.

[eetherealgoddess]

ꨄThe Visitꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Au

❦When Y/n makes an impulsive decision to take a trip to Japan, a trip to the wrong room causes her to catch the wrong attention❦

Sano Manjiro, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread!

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Red phrases are Japanese

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There will be scenes that involve non con so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable.

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

The Visit

Y/n’s journey to Japan was based on an impulsive decision. Wanting to bask in the differing culture compared to America, she decided to take a small break, her plan to only stay for a couple weeks. Unfortunately, her friends, too busy with work and stable living, couldn’t join her sudden trip across the world. Y/n currently works on her own accord, a delivering app where she makes her own schedule. A lot more freeing compared to a job where she’d have to make decisions two to three weeks in advance.

Sure, she’s no doctor or business owner but she still makes enough to afford her living and to take spontaneous outings, becoming bored easily from the day to day routine of driving and delivering all day. After all, she can even work on her vacations, though she’d prefer not to. When she was younger, she had a hard time doing things on her own so as an adult, she’s gained her own sense of independence. Using the phrase, YOLO, as an excuse to go out on her own and make things happen without waiting for others to join. Her personal challenge in life. Which is why she decided to go to a popular night club, all on her own.

Flashing lights beam as the loud music bursts through the speakers, causing the building to vibrate occasionally, chattering and laughing mixing in with the frequency. A euphoric feeling for someone in search of a good time. She walks through crowds of people after she passes the security, slightly shoving her way, light “Excuse me,” and “Sorry,” as she squeezes past the dancing mass. Obviously, nobody hears her apologies as they close their eyes and grind against the nearest person. Finally, she makes her way to the bar, the bartenders tending to the customers with smiles on their faces, conversing and flirting with the newcomers.

She takes a seat on the stool, ignoring the awkwardness of feeling out of place in an unknown world. Most of the conversations surrounding her are misunderstood, as she only knows a few Japanese words. She knows she should’ve studied more, though the anticipation caused her impatience, determining that if needed, she’ll use the web’s translator, no matter how embarrassing it’ll feel. For a second, she zones out in her own world, palm on her cheek as she leans her head, elbow plastered to the table.

“What can I get for you?”

She responds with a fruity alcohol mix, dropping her hand to the table as she watches the bartender make her drink. Once finished, he slides it to her as she hands him her payment. She sips it down fast, emptying the glass within seconds, wanting to free herself from the anxiety that fills her body, calming her thoughts as the alcohol persuades her to get out of her comfort zone. Ordering another after another, she’s finally out of her shell enough to think about hitting the dance floor, after all the crowd should cover her terrible dance moves.

After her fifth drink, she feels great, on top of the world even. Without the weakness of anxious thoughts and tense posture, she takes a selfie to send to her groupchat, her friends responding with likes and support. She smiles to herself, vision slightly shifty as she hops off her seat, shoving her phone in her purse as she walks through the crowd to a good spot.

Considering how lively she is, others fall in line, dancing near or on as everyone hypes everyone up, the music and alcohol causing everyone to lose themselves in the motion of the dance floor. The girl takes a couple photos and videos of all the different people she meets as they laugh and share the moment with each other. Some take photos and videos as well, showing off their night. Time passes as the drinks keep pouring.

Finally, the liquid reaches her bladder, causing her to stumble through the group, walking towards the bar as she searches for the nearest bathroom. Unfortunately, it takes her a while to walk around in frustration, sighing as she sees a staircase towards the balcony. Using the rail as support, she stalks up the stairs, walking until she reaches the balcony. She walks past the people as she makes her way down the hall.

“Damnit, I’m about to piss myself.” She hisses as she continues to look around, no sign of any bathrooms near.

Out of curiosity, she stops near a door where talking could be heard, though nothing she could understand besides the few words she could make out. She rolls her eyes.

“Hopefully, there’s a bathroom in here, or else I’m peeing wherever.” She mutters, chuckling as she turns the knob. When she opens the door, she’s greeted with an empty space with lounge chairs and dimmed lights, pink and red being the main color scheme of the room. The voices are louder as she walks into the room.

Maybe that’s the bathroom.

She shrugs as she walks forward, closing in on the door, the voices raising. Her eyebrows furrow at the language, caught off guard by some of the words being shouted.

“Mikey, please! I just need m-more time!”

A loud thud could be heard followed by a ‘Shut up!’ Y/n continued to listen as the concerning sounds became more apparent. She attempts to make out the words, to no avail, but she could tell that someone is begging, considering the word, ‘please.’

“Please! My wife and kids, th-they need me! God, I’ll do anything!”

“What the fuck?” She whispers. The event behind the door causes her to forget about her full bladder, which feels as though all fluid has disappeared on its own. One of her hands places itself on the door as she leans closer, becoming more intrigued as she attempts to decipher more words. Coming up with a plan, she grabs her phone and searches the web for translation. She presses the button to record and sets the phone as close to the door as she can.

“Boss, do you want me to finish this rat?”

After reading the translation, her breath hitches, eyes widening as she quickly deletes the phrase and sets the phone back in place. The hairs on her body stand as the fear sobers her enough to focus. She’s in disbelief to what she is hearing, yet she can’t find the will to move as curiosity brings her closer to demise.

Silence falls for a moment besides the pitiful man’s sobbing, weighing on her heart as she feels sorrow for what could happen, still unknown to any experiences like this. After what feels like forever, she decides to press the power button of her device and stick it back in her purse.

“NO!”

BANG!

She stops for a second, eyebrows furrowed as she stops breathing. She stares at the door in disbelief. Her hands trembling as her legs barely keep her up, causing her to lean against the wall near the door. Her heartbeat accelerates as her head begins to pound, the ringing in her ears indicating that fear is taking a toll. Before she could take another step, another three gunshots ring, echoing from the room.

“N-no fucking way.” She says to herself, turning on her heel to run out of the room.

“Shit!” She hisses as she runs into a plant, the vase shattering as she falls on the floor. Scrambling to pick herself up she quickly runs out of the room, sweat dripping from her forehead as she breathes heavily, ignoring the sound of the door behind her slamming open.

As she runs down the stairs, she pushes through anyone in the way without any apologies, too scared of getting caught snooping she rushes past the dance floor. She shrieks as shots rang through, causing everyone in the club to scatter and scream. More chaos ensues as she shoves her way to the exit. Some people could be seen falling as they’re trampled by the gathering, too many people trying to leave at the same time. The guards try to help as much as they can while the staff hides behind the bar, some in the rooms as well.

The shots continue as she's pushed against the stools, knocking them over as she stops herself from falling. She continues on, finally reaching the exit. When she makes it outside, she runs down the sidewalk, others bringing attention from the outside as well as they mimic her movements. Police sirens could be heard in the distance as she continued to run.

Breathing heavily, the pain in her stomach forms as well as the tensity in her legs, though she ignores it with the will to live another day. As she runs, she misses the black car passing by, tinted windows covering the group of men sitting in the seats.

“Another successful night of ridding ourselves of another rat, yeah?”

A tall man with short lilac hair takes a sip of his glass, leg crossed over the other as his free arm lies on the top of the seat. Lazy eyes with a side smile on his face as he eyes the men in the car.

“Successful, indeed brother. Too bad the night ended early.”

The man, sitting next to the other guy, positioned in the same way with the opposite leg, says while lighting a cigarette, the driver pressing a button to crack the windows. His hair, lilac as well, but shaped to be a mullet smirks as he pulls the smoke into his mouth, settling it before blowing out.

The two men sitting across from the brothers sit quietly as dark eyes stare out of the window, the platinum hair swaying as the wind blows through the cracks.

“I should’ve tortured him more, the disgusting scum deserved every shot for betraying my king.”

The pinkette growled, his icy blue eyes glaring into space as he imagined doing the worst to the man, violent acts playing in his head. His fingers tingle, an effect from the substances in his system, excitement causing him to smirk as he leans his head back against the seat.

“Kakucho.”

The ride became silent as their boss spoke to the driver.

“Yes, boss?”

“Look into Y/n, L/n.”

The dark eyed pale man eyes the card in his hand as he analyzes the picture and information. Finding the photo id in the lounge room, he realizes that she must’ve been the one to shatter that vase, indicating she must’ve been there during their conversation. If not, it’s good to get a hold on her, just in case.

“Yes, boss.”

“Yeah, it was fucking crazy!” Y/n says as she kicks her shoes off, locking the door behind her as she walks to the bedroom, phone against her ear.

“Is everything okay now? Are you safe?” Her closest friend says on the other line.

“I think so, Leila. I got away and nobody has followed me here so I think I’m good. I just can’t believe I witnessed something like that.” She responds, breathing out a sigh as she sets the phone on speaker, setting it on the bed as she grabs a t-shirt and shorts.

“Me neither. You probably shouldn’t go clubbing for a minute.” Leila suggests, worry evident in her voice. After Y/n is dressed, she grabs her phone and walks to the bathroom.

“Maybe, but I didn’t come here to not party. I’m sure it was just that side of town or something.” She says as she grabs a makeup wipe, starting with rubbing her eyeliner and mascara off before moving to her cheeks and forehead.

“There’s other things to do, plus you don’t know how things are fully run over there. You really know little to nothing about the area you’re in so you don’t know how consistent it is and neither do I.”

She moisturizes her face after using water to wash off any residue. She grabs her phone and pulls it to her mouth.

“I understand that, which is why I’m gonna explore some more places tomorrow, but I’m probably going to go clubbing again. Just not at that one.” She says, leaning on her leg as she places a hand on her hip.

“Okay. Just be careful, especially since you’re alone up there. I have to go back to work, so I’ll text you.”

“Alright, see ya.”

Y/n ends the call, grabbing her toothbrush and brushing her teeth. After she spits, she uses mouthwash and rinses. After her process, she grabs her phone and walks to the kitchen, chugging a glass of water before walking to the bedroom.

When she gets in bed, she pulls up a reading app as she lies in a fetal position. As she pulls up a story she saved, her eyes follow the lines until they become heavy - lidded, blurry vision overcoming until the darkness finally engulfs her.

When she wakes up, she lies for a moment before grabbing her phone and checking her notifications. She yawns, stretching and hopping from the bed, completing her morning routine as well as a shower before getting dressed in simple attire. As she walks out of her door, she cautiously looks at her surroundings, eyeing the people walking on this fine morning. In need of a picker upper, she strolls down the sidewalk, heading towards the nearest cafe, hands in pockets as she walks through the breeze.

After she walks in, she orders her drink and takes a seat in a nearby booth, intrigued by the screen of her phone as she takes sips occasionally. A figure distracts her vision, sitting in front of her, causing her to shift her gaze. She eyes the mystery man who sits in a suit, furrowing her brows as she gazes over the attractive guy. He gives her a lazy smile, greeting her and introducing himself.

“You can call me Y/n. Do I know you?” She asks curiously. She knows that she has no clue who this guy is, but asked anyway, wondering why he decided to sit at her table.

“No, we don't know each other. You’re a lovely woman, and I’d like to get to know you more.” He responds, his smooth voice adding to his demeanor. She raises a brow.

He proceeds to tell her about a club he owns, inviting her to attend that night.

“I’ll think about it.” She states, giving a polite smile as she thanks him. He nods, standing up from his chair as he walks out of the cafe.

She messages her friend about the invitation from the attractive man excitedly.

Once the evening roars, she finishes the final touches of her makeup. Finally, finished with her process, she grabs her purse, making her way out of the hotel. She rides to her destination, making it to the packed nightclub she was invited to.

Security allowed her in when she said her name, as Ran told her to skip the line earlier and the guards will understand. That didn’t help the slight anxiety she felt from the angry people waiting in the long line. Shaking it off, she walks past security, to the bar that is right outside the dance floor. She looks around the crowd of people, searching for the familiar man, confused as to where he could be. She grabs her phone when she feels a buzz through her purse.

***-***-**** : come upstairs ♡︎

She chuckles at the heart, guessing it was Ran. Though, she doesn’t remember ever giving her phone number to home, nor vice versa. She shrugs, walking up the staircase until she reaches the blocked off balcony, the guards moving the rope to allow her in.

“Ooh fancy.” She states.

Before she could take another step, she was grabbed roughly from behind, pulled into a chest as a cloth covered her muffled screams. She fails at keeping her eyes open, drifting into the darkness.

She awakens, a dim light revealing her to be cuffed to a chair within a warehouse, causing her to struggle against the restraints as tears threaten to fall.

“No, no, no!” She sobs, frustrated with her circumstances. “Fuck!” She hisses.

“Nobody gave you permission to speak.”

Her head shoots up, meeting with four intimidating individuals, one familiar guy she had just met.

Damnit! I’m so stupid. This has to be those people from the other night with that man! They’re gonna kill me!

The pink haired man with a sadistic look of amusement on his face walked forward until he reached the side of her, gun in hand. Lifting it, he raises the barrel of the weapon to her temple, causing her body to tremble as she attempts to comprehend the situation, eyes widening at the man who sat in the middle of the standing twins. His dark eyes boring into hers.

She watches the man pull out a card from his pocket, turning it over to face her; she recognizes her photo id, unable to believe her unfortunate mistake.

“Y/n, I don’t like to waste time. What did you hear?”

“Nothing! I was just looking for the bathroom.”

She grimaces as the platinum haired man narrows his eyes, piercing through her. He flicks his hand.

“Sanzu.”

Said man nods, pulling the gun back and back, handing her with his other hand, her face forced to face the side. She shrieks a curse from the sudden pain.

“Boss doesn’t like liars, Y/n.” The man with the purple mullet states, smirking at her reaction with his hands placed in his pockets.

“Rin, don’t make fun of the poor girl, she’s already having a hard time.” Ran mockingly states, smiling with one hand in his pocket as he takes a hit of his cigarette.

Y/n grits her teeth, embarrassment and anger filling her mood as she glares at both men. The sense of dread already taking over, she becomes reckless with her words considering she’ll die anyway.

“Fuck you, and fuck you!” She growls, breathing deeply as she tries to keep herself calm enough to prevent an anxiety attack. Everyone’s eyes widen, excitement taking over at her behavior, the pale man’s posture slightly straightening as he becomes intrigued. Another harsh smack forces her to scream as she’s roughly gripped by the chin and turned to face the man known as Sanzu.

“Know your place in the face of the king. Watch your mouth.” He glares at her, releasing her as he replaces the gun on her head. She sucks her teeth to prevent herself from speaking anymore, though the glare doesn’t leave her face as humiliation rises by the amused expressions on the brothers’ faces.

“Answer my question.” Mikey states.

“All I heard was gunshots when I was leaving. I just wanted to find the bathroom, that’s it! I’m just visiting!” She exclaimed, ignoring the throbbing sensation of her bruised cheek.

The room goes quiet besides her deep breathing. She furrows her brows at everyone’s dead stare, wondering if she said something wrong considering the silence. She looks around in concern, shifting her gaze around sporadically.

“Hm, do whatever you want.” The boss waves his hand as he leans back into his seat, still criss - crossed as the other men’s smirks grow.

“W-what do you mean? What are you going to do?” She exclaims, terror causing her to pull harshly against the restraints. She shifts in her seat as they get closer, Sanzu using a key to undo the cuffs. Before she could take the opportunity to flee, she’s grabbed by the arm and roughly pulled out of the seat by the man known as Rin, forcing her to her knees, causing bruises to form as the pain of the cold floor aches.

His hands still on her shoulders in a tight grip that causes tension, while Ran places himself standing in front of her. He unbuckles his pants as he pulls out his length from his underwear, giving his infamous smile as he lazily eyes her form.

“Alright princess, no biting, alright? I think you already know what’ll happen so open up.” He uses his thumb to force her mouth agape, her blocking by moving her head away from the veiny girth. Her eyes widen at the pulsating member in front of her face, tears falling as she tries to push herself away, only to be forced back into place by his brother who moves one of his hands off her shoulder and places it at the nape of her neck and head, pushing her forward. He crouches to get a good angle on her.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Sanzu says, placing the barrel of the gun on her head. “Don’t even try it.”

She glares through her tears at both men that she could see and barely opens her mouth. Ran pushes his throbbing erection through her lips, a slight groan escaping his mouth as he slowly forces her to reach his base, causing her to gag. Rin helps by adding force to her neck, holding her in place once more.

“Good. S’ fucking good.” He breathes as he pulls his hips back and pushes all the way in once more. A mixture of precum and saliva dripped from her mouth, falling down her jaw as well as salty tears. Humiliation is the only emotion to decipher as she closes her eyes to escape as much as she could from this reality. A pinch on her nose forces her eyes open as he accelerates.

“Keep those eyes open, Y/n.” Sanzu hisses. The other hand placed on her shoulder disappears as it reaches around her neck.

“We might be nicer if you’re good.” Rin whispers as he squeezes his hand around her neck. She struggles against her pinched nose and neck squeeze as her breathing is blocked. Ran’s thrusts become sloppier as he moans, his hand on top of her head and the other on her ear and cheek as he pulls back and forth.

“I’m so close.”

Mikey watches as the events play out. Despite the bored look on his face, he couldn’t help but be turned on by how she looks as she lacks air while being fucked from the mouth. His erection reflects against the bulge in his pants, slight sweat forming beneath his sweater as his eyes bore into the scene before him.

Y/n’s face, shifting colors as she struggles against the hold, vision weakening as black dots begin to engulf her. Noticing the limping of her body, the two men release her nose and neck, allowing her to breathe through her nose as Ran releases into her throat, ropes of cum shooting as he grunts.

She coughs and takes deep violent breaths when she’s released, makeup smeared as her outfit clings to her body from sweat.

“Let me fucking go! There’s no reason for this! I won’t tell anyone just stop.” She sobs angrily. They ignore her as she’s forced on her back. Sanzu forces her legs open as Rin climbs on top of her. Ran slips his pants on before he sits right above her head as he faces her from above, pulling her wrists up as he grips them, smirking as his brother places himself in front of her, crouching over her breasts.

When she gasps from the wet muscle licking her clit, Rin takes the opportunity to shove his dick all the way to the back of her aching throat.

“Shit!” He hissed as he bottoms out. Moaning with his head pulled back, he grips her head, thrusting in and out at a faster pace than how his brother started. She twitches and shifts as Sanzu sucks her clit thoroughly, flicking his tongue whenever deemed fit. He slightly moans as he licks up her juices, his tongue moving up and down as it makes contact with her bud. His hands grip her thighs tightly, nails leaving indents as he pulls her in more, eyes closed.

Rin’s hair sways as he thrusts in her mouth. Wet sounds filling the room as the cum and saliva mix while he uses her face as a fleshlight. Her body couldn’t help to react to the stimulation of her clit, to her disapproval. She also didn’t want to orgasm considering it would enable them whether they believe she truly wants this or not. In order to speed the process, she sucks his cock to bring more tension, causing him to become sloppier.

“Yes! Like that, good fucking girl.” He breathes as his eyes roll into the back of his head, thrusting harder as he gets closer to release. Everyone’s erections twitch when she unconsciously releases a moan, to her humiliation.

Just hurry up and cum so I can leave! Please!

“Dirty girl, you like this, huh?” Ran teases, as his brother’s moans become louder. Sanzu grips tighter as he rubs his erection through his pants. Mikey grips himself through his pants, enjoying the pain of his own arousal as he watches his men take advantage of this woman. His face keeps his same expression, slowly rubbing against himself as he applies pressure.

Her hands turned to fists as Sanzu used a finger to push inside of her, angling it to gain more twitches from her body. Her hips buck when he adds another, strategically pulling in and out of her vagina. His tongue flicks against her clit repeatedly, suckling as he thrusts his hand.

I don’t care if my body is reacting. I want them to stop! This is humiliating!

Tears fall as Rin finally releases into her mouth, cum shooting out as he fills her throat. She orgasms right after as Sanzu assaulted her core. Rin removes himself as Sanzu and Ran pull back. She breathes heavily as she tries to gain strength in her weakened body, still trembling from the violent acts. She freezes when she sees their boss stand up. Her eyes widen as she picks herself up and sits up, not long before Mikey motions for Sanzu to lie on the floor. The short man shoves her over the pink haired man, her face meeting his amused expression.

She’s forced to hold herself up as the brothers stood up and took the chairs her and mikey used, sitting themselves down as the anticipation of what was to come caused them to grip their erections.

When she realized what was happening, she attempted to push herself out of their grips, to no avail.

“No, please! I’ve never done anal before and I don’t want to, please! Don’t make me do this!” She sobs. Her breath hitches when Mikey shushes her from behind. As Mikey grabs her hips, Sanzu eases her down on his cock, gripping her back so she won’t pull back. She shrieks from the force, slight pain blocked from wetness yet her anxiety makes it hard for her to fully open, causing him to bully his way in.

She cries as he adjusts himself, gripping her head as he rubs her back, causing shivers to run down her spine. The brothers watch with smirks, groaning quietly as they begin to rub their own cocks. Mikey wets his finger before slowly shoving it into her anus, causing her to flinch in pain and legs to tremble. Sanzu pulls her down to lie fully on his chest as Mikey uses his other hand to push her back down, aiming for a better angle as he adds another finger.

Sanzu groans as her walls tighten around his cock, shoving it deeper as he holds it in place, head falling back as he breathes heavily. She whimpers in his ear as she tries to hold back a moan from the head hitting her cervix. It presses causing pressure as it’s still inside her, twitching occasionally as he waits for Mikey to enter.

Finally, Mikey adjusts his head to her hole after wetting his cock, shoving it inside as he ignores her cry of pain. He doesn’t stop until he bottoms out, both men groaning as they rub against each other through the lining causing extra pressure. She grunts in pain and stimulation as her body trembles. She breathes heavily in Sanzu’s ear unconsciously bringing him more pleasure as he feels the hot air against his ear, her lips barely touching his neck.

“Oh fuck, M-Mikey, can I please move?”

Forgetting his king’s title in the midst of intense pleasure, the Haitani brothers chuckle as they continue their motions.

“Yes.” He breathes as he pulls back, gripping her shoulders as he leans over, thrusting deeply as well as slowly. Long strokes as he repeats the process. Sanzu syncing with him as he hits her g-spot repeatedly, pressing against with his own long strokes.

Her eyes snap shut, tightly, as she grips Sanzu’s shoulders. Tears fall on his neck as she begins to cry. Both men’s jaws hang slightly ajar as they accelerate their speed, one going in as the other goes out. The sound of all their juices mixing as her holes drip with moisture.

Their hips snap as they become sloppy with their movements, syncing once more as they thrust inside of her roughly. All four men’s moans filled the room blocking her whimpers and cries as she sobbed for them to stop. The Haitani’s eyed the sight intently, faces bare of any smiles with nothing but undeniable pleasure as their hands bring them closer to release.

Thank god I’m on birth control.

Their grips become tighter as well as their thrusts until finally with one long but hard stroke, they both cum deeply inside her, pressing themselves inside her walls as they hold in place, the pressure causing her orgasm to crash violently, as well as the Haitani brother’s who rubbed themselves until ropes of cum shot out on their clothes.

After a while of everyone’s rugged breathing echoing through the air, Ran began to let out a light - hearted laugh.

“Awe princess, look at the mess you made! This is my favorite suit.” He smiles.

“Slutty girl, all worn out when you made us do all of the work.” Rin taunts.

Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she allows the darkness to take over, closing her eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.

Waking up, she eyes the ceiling in confusion. She sits up, eyeing the unfamiliar room as the memories from before she passed out recollected. Her eyes widen as she dashes from the bed, falling back when her ankle is held by something cold against the bed’s bottom post.

She yanks the covers and eyes the cuffed ankle.

“No! No, no, no!” She cries, the feeling of being violated and stripped of her freedom all taking a toll as she reaches for her head. Finally feeling the cold breeze, she eyes her naked body, feeling shame as she uses the comforter to cover herself.

She looks up as the door clicks open, an unfamiliar male walking in with his white hair to the side.

“Hello, Y/n. I’m here to inform you that your stay in Japan has been prolonged.”

[pinkhairswagtourney]

i need some serious help/guidance. i feel like a failure. i don't know where to turn – my family is part of the problem and they don't care about helping me, i don't have any IRL friends that i can ask for help from, and i've been so busy dealing with all my IRL shit that i've drifted away from any of my online friends. i've applied everywhere in my town that's hiring, and i mean EVERYWHERE. either i get aired from the jump, or i get a call back, ask for accommodations during the interview, and then never hear back from them. i feel like a lost cause. i can't continue to ask you guys for help forever, but i don't have anywhere to turn to IRL. without donos + commissions, i would actually be dead by now. i'm not kidding. my family doesn't give a fuck if i'm struggling or not, in fact they put me in positions where they KNOW i will struggle. they don't care. my parents never taught me how to do ANYTHING. every practical skill that i know how to do is self taught. they've literally set me up for failure in every aspect. they didn't help me with homework when i was younger, they didn't help me learn how to read or write, they didn't teach me how to socialize and make friends, they didn't teach me how to drive, how to cook, how to clean, how to apply for jobs, how to do taxes, how to do anything at all. and when it comes to the physical aspect, they knew that i was toe walking from a young age and didn't take me to a doctor because it was "cute" and "funny" how i walked on my tip toes all the time and i was so "clumsy" because i had no balance. the window for non-surgical remedies has closed, and now the only thing that can fix it is surgery, that i definitely can't afford, even on insurance, and i'm going to fall off of my parent's insurance next year when i turn 26. the toe walking has led to chronic pain in my feet, legs, hips, and back, and that, coupled with my fibromyalgia, makes just existing feel impossible sometimes. there are days where i don't want to move from my bed because my entire body feels inflamed. even if i were to get hired, how am i supposed to hold a job like that??? i don't know how to file for disability but i know that i need to, as soon as i can. i genuinely don't know what to do. i'm stuck in this house full of people who use me as a personal punching bag, mentally and verbally and physically. i have to keep my room locked at all times or people will steal from me or destroy my belongings. i can't even keep my insulin or food in the public fridge because my brother has destroyed my insulin with a hammer before, and my food will get eaten even if i label it, so i had to buy a mini fridge for my room. my brother shoved me down the stairs last year and my knee is permanently damaged from it, and that was somehow my fault. the only time anyone is talking to me in a kind way is when they want me to do something for them, and if i don't agree to do it, then all hell breaks loose, i've been screamed at, slapped, kicked, had things thrown at me, spit on, belongings destroyed, holes punched in the wall beside my head with a threat that next time it'll be my face. to the point that i just agree to run their errands and do their chores most of the time anymore. in fact, even though i pay my dad car insurance money every month, 9 out of 10 times he won't let me use the car for my personal reasons (doctor, store, pharmacy) unless i'm also doing something for them. they treat me like a child. no, they treat me like an object. but i'm supposed to be an adult. to be honest, i don't feel like an adult. i don't feel like a real person at all. i don't exist outside of this house or these blogs. i could disappear and only a handful of people would actually notice.

i want to do more than just survive by the skin of my teeth. i want to live, i want to thrive, i want friends, i want a sense of community, i want to feel loved and cherished, i want to be hugged. i can't remember the last time i was hugged. i don't know why i wrote all of this. i think it's a cry for help. i need someone to hold my hand through the process and tell me what to do because i have no idea where to turn. i don't know what the next step is. i know the things i need to do, but i don't know how to do them. i need to pay off my court fees, i need to buy my own car, i need to file for disability, i need to file for food stamps, i need to apply for a tax credit apartment so i can finally get out of this house. i'm just too stupid to figure it out on my own. with the constant swath of bills and no consistent income, it feels like i'm drowning and i'm never going to be able to get out of this situation. i can't do this alone. i need help. i'm so tired guys

[hybeana]

COMMS OPEN: HELP ME PAY RENT!

Commission Slots: 3

Donator Doodle Slots: 6

Check under the cut for pricing, wills/wonts, TOS, examples, and more info!

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ABOUT ME

Hi there! I'm @hybeana! I'm a disabled artist that could really use some help!

Without disclosing too much specific personal information: my disability is mild-to-moderate depending on the day, which means I struggle with IADLs such as grocery shopping, cooking, driving, and cleaning. I also sometimes (but not always!) struggle with walking due to pain. I also deal with regular sensory issues that make daily living a struggle in general. As you can imagine, this prevents me from working most jobs.

I was diagnosed with plantar fasciitis a year or two ago. (That's doctor speak for "heel pain we don't know how to fix.") I am an ambulatory cane user. I'm very certain that I also have an unknown autoimmune disorder, long covid, or god forbid both. I cannot afford to see a doctor. I also need to save money for an autism diagnosis. My autism often prevents me from working due to sensory issues, and a diagnosis ensures that I am fully accommodated. Although, I am unsure if I will ever be able to work a full 9 to 5. My long-term goal is disability payments.

No matter any of that, I still need to keep up with rent. My partner gets income to cover most of it, but they are in school and cannot work full-time. We need to earn about $300 USD minimum more than what they currently make per month to stay in our current apartment until December/January when our lease ends. And that's not even including utilities!

We have basic groceries and most of our rent covered, but feeding 2 adults and 1 cat can be a struggle. My cat is old and requires some supplements that are a little expensive to stay happy and healthy.

You can support me and my family by commissioning some artwork from me! I mainly do digital artwork, but I can also do traditional. Since I get so few commissions in general, I have recently upped my prices. Even a small commission is better than nothing!

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PRICES

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Timed 15 Minute Sketch/Doodle: $20.00 USD

This is a timed, 15-minute doodle of one of my OCs, Ascii! This is the option I offer for folks who want to support me, but maybe don't have as much cash to drop on a thermonuclear fully-shaded, fully-lined piece.

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Rough Lineart (No Color): $50.00 USD

This is a piece I did for my bestie @spearohero of her character Cecelia! The lineart is rough, but unfocused. If there is color, it is extremely minimal (if at all). I clean it up a little bit at the end so that it isn't a complete mess.

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Rough Lineart + FLAT Coloring: $70.00 USD

This is another one of my OCs, Xenarthron! The style here is rough, not as focused lineart with no/minimal shading. I mostly do these for myself for fun, so I don't spend as much time and energy on them as smooth lineart and shading.

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Smooth Lineart (No Color): $90.00 USD (THIS CAN GET ME GROCERIES FOR 1 WEEK!)

This piece was a gift for my dear friend @panther-os of his ATLA OC, Amaruq. I spent considerable time referencing real-life images, correcting anatomy, and focusing on line weight. You can see how differently it compares from the rough lineart in that everything is focused and purposeful.

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Smooth Lineart + SHADED Coloring: $120.00 USD

These are doozies for me because it requires so much effort and work - and I hate shading! Working with lighting can be difficult, but it's worth it in the end to see such a full, emotional piece. I did this one for @/hodagagenda of her sona. Thanks again for your support!

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What about complex backgrounds, multiple characters, busts, or other stuff not mentioned here?

CONTACT ME for pricing! I am 100% willing to haggle if it means the difference between making rent and... not making rent.

OTHER INFO

Thank you for your time and consideration!

[robertreich]

The Biggest Economic Lies We’re Told

In America, it’s expensive just to be alive.

And with inflation being driven by price gouging corporations, it’s only getting more expensive for regular Americans who don’t have any more money to spend.

Just look at how Big Oil is raking it in while you pay through the nose at the pump.

That’s on top of the average price of a new non-luxury car — which is now over $44,000. Even accounting for inflation, this is way higher than the average cost when I bought my first car — it’s probably in a museum by now.

Even worse, the median price for a house is now over $440,000. Compare that to 1972, when it was under $200,000.

Work a full-time minimum wage job? You won’t be able to afford rent on a one-bedroom apartment just about anywhere in the U.S.

And when you get back after a long day of work, you’ll likely be met with bills up the wazoo for doctor visits, student loans, and utilities.

So what’s left of a paycheck after basic living expenses? Not much.

You can only reduce spending on food, housing, and other basic necessities so much. Want to try covering the rest of your monthly costs with a credit card? Well now that’s more expensive too, with the Fed continuing to hike interest rates.

All of this comes back to how we measure a successful economy.

What good are more jobs if those jobs barely pay enough to live on?

Over one-third of full time jobs don’t pay enough to cover a basic family budget.

And what good are lots of jobs if they cause so much stress and take up so much time that our lives are miserable?

And don’t tell me a good economy is measured by a roaring stock market if the richest 10 percent of Americans own more than 80 percent of it.

And what good is a large Gross Domestic Product if more and more of the total economy is going to the richest one-tenth of one percent?  

What good is economic growth if the way we grow depends on fossil fuels that cause a climate crisis?

These standard measures – jobs, the stock market, the GDP – don’t show how our economy is really doing, who is doing well, or the quality of our lives.

People who sit at their kitchen tables at night wondering how they’re going to pay the bills don’t say to themselves

“Well, at least corporate profits are at record levels.”

In fact, corporations have record profits and CEOs are paid so much because they’re squeezing more output from workers but paying lower wages. Over the past 40 years, productivity has grown 3.5x as fast as hourly pay.

At the same time, corporations are driving up the costs of everyday items people need.

Because corporations are monopolizing their markets, they don’t have to worry about competitors. A few giant corporations can easily coordinate price hikes and enjoy bigger profits.

Just four firms control 85% of all beef, 66% of all pork, and 54% of all poultry production.

Firms like Tyson have seen their profit margins skyrocket as they jack up prices higher than their costs — forcing consumers who are already stretched thin to pay even more.

It’s not just meat. Weak antitrust enforcement has allowed companies to become powerful enough to raise their prices across the entire food industry.

It’s the same story with household goods. Giant companies like Procter & Gamble blame their price hikes on increased costs – but their profit margins have soared to 25%. Hello? They care more about their bottom line than your bottom, that’s for sure.

Meanwhile, parents – and even grandparents like me – are STILL struggling to feed their babies because of a national formula shortage. Why? Largely because the three companies who control the entire formula industry would rather pump money into stock buybacks than quality control at their factories.

Traditionally, our economy’s health is measured by the unemployment rate. Job growth. The stock market. Overall economic growth. But these don’t reflect the everyday, “kitchen table economics” that affect our lives the most.

These measures don’t show the real economy.

Instead of looking just at the number of jobs, we need to look at the income earned from those jobs. And not the average income.

People at the top always bring up the average.

If Jeff Bezos walked into a bar with 140 other people, the average wealth of each person would be over a billion dollars.

No, look at the median income – half above, half below.

And make sure it accounts for inflation – real purchasing power.

Over the last few decades, the real median income has barely budged. This isn’t economic success.

It's economic failure, with a capital F.

And instead of looking at the stock market or the GDP we need to look at who owns what – where the wealth really is.

Over the last forty years, wealth has concentrated more and more at the very top. Look at this;

This is a problem, folks. Because with wealth comes political power.

Forget trickle-down economics. It’s trickle on.

And instead of looking just at economic growth, we also need to look at what that growth is costing us – subtract the costs of the climate crisis, the costs of bad health, the costs of no paid leave, and all the stresses on our lives that economic growth is demanding.

We need to look at the quality of our lives – all our lives. How many of us are adequately housed and clothed and fed. How many of our kids are getting a good education. How many of us live in safety – or in fear.

You want to measure economic success? Go to the kitchen tables of America.

[millionancientbees]

Something I think a lot of ppl forget when they’re dealing with suicidal people is that a lot of us are suicidal because we can’t afford or access basic needs, let alone creature comforts.

Before sending your suicidal friend to the mental hospital to maybe be severely traumatized by even less autonomy and also potentially lose their jobs and housing, have you:

-spent time with them so they’re not alone with their thoughts and organized a care group of their friends to help take care of tasks that are overwhelming?

-made a post or group chat to raise funds for bills that are looming and making them feel like they’ll never be able to succeed at life? Tried to help connect them with resources? Offered to sit down with them while they make calls? Offered to take a look at their debt and see if it can be refinanced? Etc, based on your skills, who you know, what you have the resources and comfort and closeness with the person to allow

-taken them to do some fun things? Gotten them out of their house and into the sun?

-gotten them something sweet or comforting or good smelling or whatever? A simple $5 candle can be a reason for someone to smile and feel cared about.

-gotten them tools to manage their sensory needs? Are they over or under stimulated? I will become immediately suicidal if I hear too many sounds while hungry or tired or upset or overheated or or or

I’m not saying the hospital is never the answer. I’m not saying don’t take people who are immediately in danger. I’m not saying you have to do this for people who are behaving in a way that will hurt you. But if you care about someone who is suicidal, this is something to think about.

I have literally been suicidal for as long as I can remember (and I remember a lot of my very early childhood) and some of the small things that have legitimately kept me alive over the years include:

-my friends buying me noise canceling headphones

-my friends taking me on a vacation

-my partner letting me read out loud to them when they were playing video games every night

-my friends buying my art or sending me money to help pay bills, get my car fixed, etc

-my sister giving me rides to my doctor appointments and buying me a little treat afterwards

-my friends sharing their audible/netflix/hulu/libby accounts with me so i had something to focus on other than wanting to die

-friends taking me out to dinner and letting me talk about my special interests

-my friend giving me houseplants and teaching me how to keep them alive, which required spending quality time together whenever I needed to learn something new and gave them an excuse to bully me into leaving my depression nest when nobody else could

-my friend buying me a vape when I was breaking apart and had nothing to do with my hands and nothing to calm my very upset nervous system and $2 in the bank and also I was going through withdrawals

-my friend teaching me how to drive and helping me get my license so I could have some autonomy

Like it really can be that simple. We sometimes forget that therapy and meds can only do so much at a time, and some people get treatment for their entire lives and still struggle a lot even when they do everything right, especially when they’re dealing with complicated issues like other disabilities, chronic pain, poverty, abusive situations/ongoing trauma, etc.

[fairykukla]

I just got off the phone with a 20-something friend of mine. Their partner is sick, can't go to work, and her employer won't let her call in without a doctor's note.

So I thought I'd share my advice more broadly.

1. I asked if it's Covid. It took me three tries to get the correct answer which is that they assume it isn't Covid. TAKE A TEST. if it is Covid, text your boss the test result.

2. Insurance bullshit: We are in the US, but I pointed out that the healthcare marketplace just did a huge push to get everyone some kind of insurance. Apparently said person has some kind of coverage in another state. LOOK. Every version of Insurance pays (at least partly) for ER visits everywhere. Get seen.

3. Insurance BS part 2: once you have been diagnosed, and treated, you will get a bill. Apply for financial aid. This person makes barely above minimum wage; she will probably qualify for aid.

4. Your Employer Is Lying. Once, I had the flu so bad they thought I had Mono. I was working for Target. I called in Sick on a Sunday. I was told that I couldn't call in sick, or I'd lose my job. I explained that I had a fever of 104, and that I was too sick to even go to the doctor. They leaned on me really hard, so I said, "I'd rather stay employed, but if you need to fire me about it, I guess I'll talk to the family lawyer." Guess what? I wasn't fired. I was out for two weeks, and when I felt well enough to drive myself to the doctor, I did so. I got a note, which I gave to my employer. Employers will say shit like this to prevent people from calling in for being hung over. Tell them you're calling gin sick. Tell them that when you feel well enough to go to the doctor, you'll bring the note.

5. Oh but wait! Your healthcare info is private. It's not your employer's business, actually. If your employer is providing healthcare benefits, that's one thing. But this person isn't getting any healthcare benefits. So. "I can't afford to see a doctor on the wages I earn, so shall I ask my doctor to bill you for the visit? They require payment immediately."

6. Threaten with an attorney, and if they call you, don't bluff. Call one of those ambulance chasers who have ads that say "Have you been injured in an accident?" See if you can get them to send a threatening letter. It might cost you something but I promise it will make policy changes happen.

7. Ok, I'm going to restate it: TEST FOR COVID. Check the expiration dates on the box, too.

TL:DR

Don't let any employer bully you.

Get seen if you're really sick.

TEST FOR COVID.

I've lost people close to me because they wouldn't take care of their health, due to fear of medical debt. I know people now with debilitating problems that might have been easier to solve if it had been caught earlier. I once had to physically wrestle a friend into my car to take him to the ER after he had been stabbed in the neck because he didn't want the debt.

I know you're broke. I know you need your job. You need to know your rights, because *they're counting on your fear.*

[bullet-prooflove]

🌙 moon: do any of your OCs have dark backstories or secrets they’re trying to keep?

(I bet there’s a few 😂)

Ohh I’m trying to think of secrets that the audience don’t already know.

Chicago Med:

Sam Abrams/Elle:

Elle became a counsellor because her father was mentally ill and they couldn’t afford to get help. He started showing signs of bipolar when Elle was a child and they couldn’t afford the meds/counselling as they had no health insurance so she watched him decline. Both her and her mother tried to help him but he ended up killing himself. One of her greatest fears is the illness being passed along to her.

Chicago Fire:

Jeff Clarke/Noelle:

Noelle left an abusive relationship for Chicago, her ex was a political fixer who used to hurt her. She knew that he would never let her leave so she downloaded the contents of his laptop onto a flash drive as leverage so he doesn’t come after her and she doesn’t give it to the police.

Sam Carver/Ava

Ava is phenomenal at pool because she used to spend her childhood (12+) in poolhalls with her father who liked to bet big. The more drunk he got however, the worse he was which led to Ava taking over the cue so they didn’t lose their heat/food/rent that month. When he had no money to bet, he would bet sexual favours from her as an incentive with his friends. After a few loses she made sure she was always the one that came out on top.

Fire Country:

Bode Leone/Fern

Their entire relationship. When they got together Fern was a paramedic at the time helping train the prisoners to apply onsite first aid. She fell in love with Bode through spending time with him and the two began an intimate relationship while he was still incarcerated. Legally inmates in a prison cannot consent to sex because of the power dynamics and she would have been at risk of losing her job and poss jail time. They tell people the physical part of the relationship didn’t occur until he was free but in reality it was a lot earlier.

Haven:

Nathan Wuornos/Kasey:

The reason that Nathan can feel Kasey is because she spent time in the barn and doesn’t remember it. As a kid she came across it during a camping trip on the island when Audrey was Lucy. Agent Howard was coming and going quite a bit and she followed him inside out of curiosity. When he realised, she was ejected but it altered her fundamentally.

L&O:

Vince Riley/Elyse:

The reason Elyse stopped drinking is because she almost killed herself one night driving home drunk. She woke up in her car with her face in an airbag after crashing into a parked car before driving away. The next day she left money in the mailbox for repairs and checked herself into rehab.

Ed Green/Ronnie:

Ronnie’s work with IAB started earlier than Ed realises. She was actually approached about investigating him back when they were working Gangs together. IAB knew someone was on the take in the unit and because of Ed’s history with gambling he was the prime candidate. Ronnie cleared him of the investigation and Ed has absolutely no idea his partner was looking into him.

Magnum PI:

Rick Wright/Joni:

Joni took a rough tumble during her last surfing competition, she was told by a doctor in Miami, she needs a knee surgery otherwise there could be permanent damage. She hasn’t told Rick as she wants to finish out the season and she knows he would urge her to get the surgery ASAP due to the risk.

Mayor of Kingstown

Mike McLusky/Stella:

Their relationship. Mike loves Stella, Stella loves Mike but they can never be together out in the real world because she’s his FBI handler. If anyone knew Mike would be labelled a snitch and horrifically murdered and she would lose her job and the man she loves.

NCIS:

Jimmy Palmer/Elodie:

The reason Elodie returned to the US is because her fiancé was killed over work she was doing identifying bodies in mass graves in Albania. She had discovered evidence of a war criminal hiding within the current regime and was working with her journalist fiancé to expose him when their car exploded. She was meant to be alongside him but had cancelled plans to work.

Numb3rs:

Ian Egerton/Valentina:

Ian has been secretly looking to relocate to LA so he can be with Val. The thing with the nerve agent really shit him up so he’s decided he wants to spend as much time with her as possible because life is far too short.

The Rookie:

Wade Grey/Everly:

Everly has not been telling Wade the extent of the harassment/abuse she has been receiving from Waldron. They had a recent physical altercation, that has left her shaken.

SOA:

David Hale/Josie:

After killing Stahl, Jax came to see Josie one last time before she left for Santo Padre with David. David had run out for coffee when he turned up at her door, told her she was safe, implying he had killed Stahl. He told her he loved her, that he had always loved her and he kissed her goodbye. Josie will never tell David any of this.

Supernatural:

Dean Winchester/Harlow:

Harlow realises the deal she made with Guy is going to kill her long before she gets to the ten year mark. She tries to keep it from Dean for as long as possible.

Tulsa King:

Dwight Manfredi/Dahlia:

Dahlia is actually the powerhouse in Tulsa. She’s the one with the connections, leverage and capital.

Twisters:

Tyler Owens/Sophie:

Sophie was raised by her grandparents because Sophie’s father is in prison for killing her mother. She had dropped Sophie off at her parents before going home to pack, her husband came home early from the bar, realised she was trying to leave and ended up shooting her. It took them three days to track him down before he was arrested. Tyler is aware of all of this.

[sneakyboymerlin]

Heeeeeyyyyy it’s ur boy uh. Skinny penice.

If any of you lovelies wanna help me get my mom’s account out of the negatives, I would be eternally grateful.

Her account is around -$300 after the bills got taken out, we’re just trying not to rack up any late fees at this point ✨ any money will go to getting her account out of the negatives or else paying off the fees as they add up. She’s already been in the negatives for 2 or 3 days because she tried to “fix it herself” without telling me (I only found out because I happened to see her bank app).

Her car’s engine also stopped and we can’t afford a rental so I have to drive her to and from work myself (a 40 minute drive each way, I will be making the 80 minute drive twice today so I can go to my own job). I don’t get paid until Thursday and the only thing I can afford rn is gas.

I just had to pay $500 to get my own car out of the shop after almost 2 months since someone tried to steal it in September (all the parts they needed were on back order) and the dude who tried to take it for a joy ride gets to pay it back in small increments (when a white boy does it for fun, they give him every excuse) which means I’m out $500.

I wanted to attend my community college this upcoming semester but I’m just going to have to skip again if this keeps up, which I really don’t want to do because of pressure from my sister to get a degree or apprenticeship. She won’t help my mom in order to “punish her” but it really just punishes me. My mom has been hiding her finances from me ever since my dad died, resulting in things like my car (the car is under her name & insurance but my dad gave it to me) getting repossessed during the summer (we were able to get it back luckily) and the internet getting shut off. She lied about where the money I paid her was going, paid for her own car + insurance instead and let my car get repossessed. My finances and well-being are entirely dependent on her bank account, and she is consistently dishonest about where our money goes, and then funnels any money I make into her account. She also tries to buy frivolous things we don’t need when she runs out of money + tries to force me to buy those things for her and is only frugal when spending her own paycheck. Everyone I have explained the situation to tells me that I am being financially abused, and I cannot find a way out of it besides moving out, but I can’t afford to do that and I can’t leave my pets behind.

I was also trying to pay off my phone and late bills to T-Mobile so we could switch over to a cheaper company but I can’t make any progress on this because we can’t afford to pay anything off before the next month rolls over and we get charged yet again (when T-Mobile bought Sprint they started charging us out the ass). The electric bill is also going to be unsustainable this winter, our heater doesn’t work half the time so we have space heaters but that’s it for us + our 4 cats + 1 dog.

I’m also supposed to be going to the doctor’s to get a diagnosis (probably EDS), physical and mental therapy, etc. but I have to go through multiple doctors and institutions(?) to do this, which is pretty much impossible when you’re sharing 1 car between 2 people and are the only one with any gas money (which is gonna go FAST). I also do not want my mom to know under any circumstances if I attend mental therapy.

And there’s always more but I don’t have time to continue on

If you follow me or enjoy my posting please consider helping out if you can 💗

C*sh*app is $ThreeTrilobites

DM me for P*yP*l or V-nmo info

[liminaltey]

Make a difference in a disabled woman’s life for the holidays? Read this:

I’m only $115 away from my goal!!!

Hi my name is Tey but I also go by Jas, I’m an unemployed autistic woman. I made a GoFundMe in an effort to obtain a bike, to aid in my independent traveling endeavors. I cannot legally drive, and even if I could I do not have the means to afford a car, car insurance and other car related expenses like gas. I cannot afford Uber or Lyft, and I can’t always afford the bus. I cannot rely comfortably on relatives or friends to take me places because they are their own people with their own agendas, and as mentioned previously I cannot afford to compensate them with gas money. I have been searching for a job for months and have had a couple interviews but they all have lead to nothing.

I have done much walking lately in an attempt to exercise my independent traveling muscles but it’s harder than I thought. Despite being young (24) I have dealt with foot related pain/ problems for as long as I can remember. I had surgery to address it at 9 or 10 years old. That did not solve everything of course. I used to sprain my ankles a lot due to them being unstable and floppy. I have lost feeling in my toes for weeks just from standing from working at Bojangle’s. I have an osteochondral lesion on my left ankle that may require surgery, and just two days ago I was diagnosed with a stress reaction on my right foot, a precursor to an actual fracture from all the walking I’ve done. I was also freshly diagnosed with Ehlers Danlos syndrome.

Having a bike would help me be able to travel more often, and further. My partner has a beautiful bike and I’d love to be able to bike ride alongside them on our city related adventures instead of lagging behind on my unreliable feet. See look at how pretty! It’s even more gorgeous in person:

I’d also really love to be able to take myself to my doctors and mental health appointments without begging my relatives to take me. I would like to be able to pick up my prescription medication, and do independent grocery runs. I’d love to be able to get out the house more often on my own terms rather than wait for someone to get into the “feel like going out” mood. I have depression, anxiety and other health problems both physical and psychological and I’m trying to actively overcome them. Biking is a good form of physical activity while simultaneously exposing you to vitamin D since it generally is considered an outdoorsy activity. I lack vitamin D.

So if you read all this, I adore you.

If you have the means to donate $1 I’d really really really really really really really really appreciate it, and if you can’t (I understand, my bank account closed itself because I’m that broke), reblogging would also be very very very very very very very very very very very very much appreciated!

I’m $115 away, it’s so close I can almost taste it (imagining that one Patrick licking SpongeBob popsicle scene)

Being $115 away means:

If 11 (and a half 🤭) people donated $10 the goal would be reached or 23 people donating $5, you get the picture

This is me if you care btw:

[timidusaquilae]

Hey, Indiana

I got this in my e-mail, I'm not a US citizen but I care about a lot of those, so thought I'd spread it around :)

[link to the page]

[transcript for image 1]

SB 2, proposed legislation at the Indiana General Assembly, threatens to take away healthcare coverage from more than 750,000 low-income Hoosiers by making extreme changes to Indiana's Medicaid programs, including massive cuts to the Healthy Indiana Plan (HIP). SB 2 would: 

Limit HIP enrollment at 500,000, immediately kicking more than 250,000 people off of their healthcare coverage. 

Cap lifetime HIP coverage at 36 months, including coverage for persons with chronic health conditions, battling cancer, and with disabilities.

Adding burdensome new paperwork requirements to the program.

HIP is an Indiana Medicaid program which provides essential healthcare coverage for more than 750,000 low-income Hoosier adults. HIP enables 1 in 7 Hoosiers to get and afford the essential healthcare we all need to live, work, and take care of their families. HIP is vital to both Hoosier health and our state's economy. SB 2 not only risks the lives of hundreds of thousands of people, it threatens to remove more than $3.5 billion from our state's economy! This federal money, which covers 90% of HIP's cost, is overwhelmingly spent in local communities, and pays for tens of thousands of healthcare jobs and services. Without this funding, more hospitals and healthcare providers will likely be forced to close. The new administrative requirements proposed would not only lead hundreds of thousands of Hoosiers to lose their healthcare coverage, SB 2 will make HIP more expensive to run, wasting public dollars to create costly new bureaucracy and unnecessary barriers for members. Money that could be used to improve Hoosier health will instead go toward managing a complex system of repetitious eligibility checks and exemptions. 

SB 2 will cause a huge spike in the uninsured rate, destabilizing Indiana's healthcare system, driving up healthcare costs for all Hoosiers and threatening the health and lives of hundreds of thousands of Hoosiers.

[link to the page]

(and for the curious, Hoosiers just means a resident of the US state, Indiana)

[contents of e-mail \/ ]

Here's what we need you to do: make five phone calls to five key legislators on the Senate Appropriations Committee to ask them to vote "No" on SB 2. 

Sen. Michael Crider (317)-234-9054

Sen. Eric Bassler (317)-234-9425

Sen. Liz Brown  (317)-232-9497

Sen. Greg Goode  (317)-232-9490

Sen. Travis Holdman (317)-232-9453

Here's a simple call script: 

Hi my name is ______ and I am from ______. I am calling today because Senator ______ is on the Appropriations Committee which will vote on SB 2. I am very concerned about this bill because ___________ [it will lead to hundreds of thousands of Hoosiers losing their healthcare, hurt our economy, I'm a medicaid member, etc].

So far, we've helped to coordinate more than 4,000 contacts with these Senators! If we keep the pressure up we can stop SB 2. To learn more about SB 2, check out our landing page at www.hoosieraction.org/stop-sb2 and this recent article from the IDS

We all have bodies. We all get sick. Everyone deserves access to healthcare, regardless of income, race, or ability. Just five minutes of your time will help make certain that all Hoosiers can go to the doctor when they get sick. 

See you tonight, Tracey Hutchings-Goetz

Communications & Policy Director

[lexa-griffins]

I know I haven't been keeping up with asks and due to probably not being able to write anything for while here's a short drabble of an idea I had ages ago and might never write.

Assassin Lexa x Target Clarke

--

You’re here to kill her. 

Your end goal is simply to terminate her, a job like all the others. You keep reminding yourself of your assignment, repeating it like a motto so it  never leaves your head. 

When she smiles you repeat it, a warning to yourself. When she wraps a hand around your waist and pulls you closer, biting your lip like it belongs to her. When she takes you on a date that always ends with you naked in her bed, panting and unable to differentiate the taste of her from the taste of you, you see it burnt into your brain.

Clarke’s not a play thing, she’s not a lover. She’s a target.

And she knows it.

She’s not stupid, not the way your briefing said she might be. There is some naïvety to her, that much is true, how she believes she can make the world a better place, her drive to help and be needed mildly infuriating but she is still as cunning and manipulative and deceiving as you are, keeping you on your toes everyday, like this is a game - like she has a chance to win.

Truth is, you enjoy it. That’s why you keep delaying putting a bullet to her head. That’s why you keep dressing up, the tight short dresses and expensive lingerie that remove all of the bright blue out of her eyes. That’s why you keep coming back as if you were addicted to her; her smell, her taste, her touch. She’s addicted to you too, it’s oh so obvious in the way she looks, touches, fucks you.

She knows how this will end. She knows you are as further as she’ll go in life, for when you’re gone from it, she will have no more life for her to live. 

Nevertheless, here you stand, in the living room of her uptown loft, the one she can somehow afford, despite working as family doctor in a clinic downtown and claiming she has nothing to do with her mother’s political career. The apartment is bare for the most part. She prefers spending her money on experiences you’ve come to learn; Michelin stars dinning, tropical vacations, luxurious hotels. You’ve gone with her on them all. 

It’s quite sad it has to end but you’ve gone on with this charade for long enough. The loaded gun weights on your hand, on your heart, but you both knew it would end up like this. You went out of your way to make sure she dies well, happy, loved, a luxury you have never granted to a target before.

A loud pop coming from the kitchen momentarily distracts you.

“One of these days I’m gonna lose a fucking eye trying to serve you wine!” She grunts from the kitchen, back turned to you as she tries her best to get as much wine inside the glass as she can manage.

You smile, despite yourself. She’s just a few drops past tipsy, her tone dropping lower and raspier, the slurred words adding just the right hint of adorableness to the eroticism of her voice. 

You raise the gun. 

You took her to dinner at the Greek place downtown, her favorite. You kept your hair loose because you know that’s how she likes it; she told you so the very first time she met you, only a couple exchanges into the conversation, your hair tied in an elegant bun at the time. You made a point of wearing the tight leather dress she commented on more than once when you walked hand in hand through the stores fronts, whispering all the sinful things she would like to do to you while you wear it. 

The barrel points to her head, quick and clean. 

In another life maybe you two could have been happy. You’d move in with her and in a one year time you’d propose, married by this date two years from now. You’d get a cat and then go off to travel the world with her, let her pamper you like she enjoys to do while you simply sit back and enjoy life. It sounds nice; perfect even.

But that life does not exist, and because you cannot afford what if’s, you take a deep breath.

She turns before your finger presses the trigger and you’re left with her staring at with a playful smirk, your gun pointed right at her forehead - a clear shot.

“Lexa, I’ve told you, no weapons in the apartment.” She’s nonchalant about it, does not even blink an eye at the gun you hold in your hand.

You adore her for that.