#destruction of public property
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
mistressemmedi · 1 day ago
Text
Las Vegas GP of comedies
14 notes · View notes
windheldland · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
1 note · View note
slapjacq · 1 month ago
Text
Your honor he did all of that shit, I would ask that you understand that bro just needs a hug and a nap
Tumblr media
Submitted by Anon
74 notes · View notes
saturnniidae · 2 months ago
Text
Modern au Hiccup is so funny bc he'd have to deal with legal restrictions when it comes to his inventions
12 notes · View notes
charger-lens · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
74 notes · View notes
skrunksthatwunk · 2 years ago
Text
kiryu and majima shoulda had a vegas wedding in the 90s and that's why they're Like That. they got a vegas divorce too btw
42 notes · View notes
spacestationstorybook · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
YOU KNOW I HAD TO. just about the most them-coded a meme can be.
10 notes · View notes
skipppppy · 3 months ago
Text
The life of Stanford Pines must be so bizarre from the perspective of a random townsperson who doesn’t know him. Imagine you live in a sleepy lumber town, where the most interesting thing you’ve heard this week is that a plot of land on the outskirts of the woods was sold and someone has started constructing a cabin on there.
You later learn by word of mouth that he’s a phd student doing some kind of long-term research project. You don’t see his face until one night he comes blasting down the street on a trail of destruction, eyes yellow and glazed over, trashing public property, inflicting gruesome injuries on himself, and laughing like he’s on an erratic, drug-fuelled bender. He then goes home and locks himself in his cabin again. This becomes a cycle; he stays isolated for weeks, then comes out once in a blue moon to wreak havoc and be a nuisance to the authorities.
Then one day it stops. He doesn’t come back out. The next time you see him he’s at a grocery store looking completely different to how you remember; his hair is grown out, he’s put on weight, his clothes are completely different and he’s stopped wearing glasses. Some townsfolk finally work up the nerve to talk to him and you learn that he invited them to his cabin on a tour. His home is apparently FULL of dangerous research equipment and the scientist, who had allegedly been very quiet and level-headed on the days he wasn’t having his “episodes,” has had a complete personality change, he’s loud and confident and less than honest and a little sleazy but a damn good salesman and entertainer.
He hosts tours out of his home for the next 30 years. Over time he’d changed it into a museum of sorts that sells overpriced knickknacks to unsuspecting tourists, but aside from his shady business practices he’s a well known member of his community. He changes up the exhibits every few months, brings his niece and nephew to stay one summer and they become town darlings, and even exposes a beloved public figure for running a spyware scheme.
One day you hear he got visited by the FBI. They start going round town asking about him. A week or so later he gets arrested. The town goes CRAZY theorising why but then there’s a massive earthquake and in the chaos of that you forget what happened to him. One minute you hear that the feds were surrounding his house and the next they’re all leaving like they forgot what they came for. Another week later he resurfaces and announces he’s going to run for Mayor, dominated the polls, wins the popular vote, but loses his position immediately due to an extensive criminal record.
Then there’s gossip that he completely changed his appearance again. He’s lost his fez and is walking around in a coat and cable knit turtleneck in the middle of the July heat. Then you hear from someone else that he looks the exact same and didn’t change anything. Then you see two identical men walking down the street, one matching the description you saw. People are BUZZING to know what happened and you eventually learn that the “new guy” was actually the same Scientist and the guy that had been running the museum was his twin brother who stole his identity after he went missing. Then the apocalypse happens
13K notes · View notes
honorhearted · 2 months ago
Text
Each press of Peggy's mouth against his own was harsh, almost painful as their lips, teeth and tongue clashed with a needful aggression. With one hand wound through her hair and the other digging into her hip, Benjamin used his tight hold to pull her into his thrusts again and again, her walls clenching tightly around him as she cried out into his mouth.
He loved her -- oh, God, he adored her -- and yet there was a certain violence to their coupling; one that teetered on the edge of madness as they licked, bit and groped at one another with a forceful desperation.
Every time Peggy writhed into his touch, the dresser rattled beneath their combined weight, and feeling his cock pulse with the need for release, the moment she tightened wetly around his arousal, he wasn't long in following after. Benjamin drove deeply inside her once, twice, before spilling haphazardly between her shaking thighs, his lips still fastened fiercely to hers as he groaned into their kiss.
Trembling and dizzy, Benjamin only broke apart for the sake of catching his breath. He laughed then, nuzzling into her as a fond, sated grin tipped the corners of his mouth. "Well," he panted, breathless, "that's certainly one way to welcome me back."
Peggy, however, appeared wholly disheartened. “There is something awful I must tell you, Ben darling…”
All at once, the fond twinkle in his gaze dimmed. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice growing hushed.
Another beat of silence passed, long and unbearable, before Peggy finished in a rush, “And you will likely hate me for it…”
"Never," he whispered, needing so desperately to believe this. "Peggy, whatever it is, we'll get through it..." He took her hands. "We have before, and we will again. I waited for you, remember? I came back for you."
The look on his face, the haze of blazing need through his low lashed, those brilliant summer eyes shining through. It was those eyes that had drawn her in since the beginning, followed closely by his modest charm and stunning intellect. He didn’t just revere her body, but her mind and spirit as well. He saw her wholly and completely for who she was, and to lose that now would surely be the death of her. Oh, how could she hope to live without him? 
He silenced her soft pleas and affirmations of love by devouring her, neither of them able to taste each other enough. It was as though it were impossible to become as close as they needed to be despite his hand between her legs, pleasuring her with every ounce of his will until, finally, his cock sank inside her with relentless abandon.
The vanity rattled violently as he thrust into her again and again as she used her legs to gather him up each time, their mouths still desperately locked together in an unending kiss. She lapped and nipped and moaned against his lips, never wanting the moment to come to an inevitable halt.
Please, oh, please, let this last. I love you. I love you. I’m so sorry I hurt you…
In the white hot haze, Peggy wasn’t certain if she’d finished once or twice, nor how much time had passed before he’d emptied his ardor inside ehr, but their coupling had been so blindingly obscene, that she had lost all her senses to it, the pure carnality of it overwhelming as she’d taken and given and taken again. The room was thrashed, the vanity mirror cracked, its contents scattered across the floor, and now, the bed was a mess and the gossamer canopy looked as though it had endured a raging storm. 
It took several minutes for Peggy to catch her breath, her chest heaving and her heart pounding, threatening to burst from her chest as she clung to her lover, her darling Benjamin, the man she had so badly wished to be with for the rest of her life. If only she could…
Brushing the hair from Benjamin’s flushed and flawless face (his queue had loosened, or rather, she might have pulled it free. She wasn’t certain), Peggy’s smile faded, replaced by a look of forlorn anguish as she realized she couldn’t keep the truth from him much longer. 
“There is something awful I must tell you, Ben darling…” she confessed, her heart still racing, only now it was for an entirely different reason, “And you will likely hate me for it…”
81 notes · View notes
bioethicists · 7 days ago
Text
perhaps one of the most damning things about working with highly policed populations (in my case, unhoused ppl who use drugs) is the simultaneous presence of
1) total involvement of the criminal justice system in these ppl's lives- almost everyone has "caught a case" at some point or at the very least had a direct encounter with a police officer where legal action was threatened
AND
2) a deep well of unsolved, uncared for, continuous traumas + violences which the criminal justice system has done nothing to prevent or address. murders, even serial murders, which have never been solved or even publicized. rapes which go unreported because the last time someone reported Him, everyone remembers what happened (or didn't). myriad acts of casual violence by police (assault, threats, theft, destruction of property, verbal abuse) with no recourse.
in these communities, police do not even accomplish the tasks we like to imagine make them indispensable: addressing + preventing patterns of violence. the police exacerbate patterns of violence + create new ones, blaming the existing ones on the populations they're terrorizing.
942 notes · View notes
kingkatsuki · 7 months ago
Text
Pro-Hero Dynamight who’s never really looked through his fanmail before until he’s placed on desk duty for destruction of public property. Sifting through the various letters that are either words of love and affirmation, or hate mail that chastises him for being a terrible Pro-Hero. And honestly, that’s how he feels right now after being taken out of the field—
But his eyes finally land on one letter in particular. The envelope contains nothing more than a piece of paper that he folds out to see a crude stick figure drawing of what is clearly supposed to be him. Gauntlets bigger than his body with large orange explosions appearing out of them, eyes drawn into a glare that has him smiling for the first time since he got placed at a desk, and large “BOOMS” scrawled all around him. And beside the stick figure of him is a smaller one, with cute little pigtails drawn and heart eyes as he reads the speech bubble beside her that says “You’re my favourite hero.”
And you notice when you come home that evening that your boyfriend is far less angry and mopey than usual, pressing a kiss to your lips as you walk through the door and into the kitchen to find the cute little drawing pinned onto your fridge.
2K notes · View notes
ty-bayonet-betteridge · 1 year ago
Text
two of the transfems youre friends with have been talking to you about the clinic they got their bottom surgery done at. apparently its dirt cheap, and the surgeon - despite some oddities and, your friends admit, poor hygiene - is incredibly talented. theyre more than happy to give you her phone number when you ask, and while it sounds simultaneously incredibly sketchy and way too good to be true, at this point youre just so broke, desperate, and tired of gatekeepers that you're willing to give it a shot.
you call on a thursday afternoon, and the call is picked up on the fourth ring, when youre just gearing up to hear an answering machine. the voice on the other end sounds like a middle-aged woman with a smoking habit trying to sound like a cheery, bubbly young girl, and mostly succeeding. hiiiii! what can i do for you? she asks. you say er im looking for a surgical clinic is this the right number? she says mhm! thats me. you say okay, i just have a few questions. she says shoot. you say do you take patients who arent referred to you? she says nobody refers patients to me so yes. then she giggles. youve never heard somebody pull off a giggle in real life. you ask okay, so ive been looking for a place to get my metoidoplasty done, can you do that here? she says i dont know what that is give me like five seconds. then the line goes silent. you can hear her typing on a mechanical keyboard and humming to herself as she reads. youre now convinced that this is not in any way a legitimate medical institution.
youre about to hang up when she comes back on the line. OH you need a dick she says. sure i can do that! does tuesday afternoon work for you? i have that morning free too but i HATE getting up in the mornings so id rather not schedule it if i have to. you say tuesday afternoon is fine, how long should i expect the visit to be? she says i dont know like seven hours? you say seven hours? she says yeah give or take a few, every person is different so i dont know what itll be like until ive got your cunt opened up. honestly probably best to take the whole day off just in case it turns out to be a tough operation. you dont respond to that immediately. she says oh shoot should i not use the word cunt, is that too gendered? sorry. you say no its fine. you say i thought i was just going in for a consult? she says i mean yeah if youd rather. i dont mind doing same-day but some people like having more time to think about their options. do you have somewhere to be tuesday night or something? you say no its just... no tuesday afternoon should be fine. she says okay great!
she gives you her address. she says knock three times so i know its you and not my parole officer. parole officer you ask? she says im being good i promise but i still hate talking to him hes boring. you say if you dont mind me asking what were you imprisoned for? she says the ones i plead guilty to at the trial were a hundred and ninety-two counts of first-degree murder with a parahuman ability, two hundred and fifty-six counts of physical and emotional torture with a parahuman ability, five hundred and six counts of intentional infliction of emotional distress with a parahuman ability, four hundred ninety-eight counts of aggravated assault and battery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty five counts of domestic terrorism with a parahuman ability and two hundred and twelve counts without, three counts of arson, two hundred forty two counts of burglary with a parahuman ability, three hundred eight four counts of robbery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty seven counts of abduction with a parahuman ability, a hundred eighty six counts of human trafficking with a parahuman ability, three hundred ninety counts of destruction of public property with a parahuman ability, eighty counts of possession of a controlled substance, more than three thousand conspiracy and complicity charges in various felonies, eighteen violations of the Geneva Conventions, and the unauthorized practice of medicine. i plead not guilty to the larceny, sexual assault, contempt of court, corporate espionage, and identity theft charges and the prosecutor didnt really try to fight it since i had already earned seventy life sentences from the other stuff so im technically innocent of those.
you dont say anything to that.
after three seconds of silence she says sooooooooo i'll see you tuesday? you say tuesday, yeah. what was your name again? Riley, she says. Riley Grace Davis. you say thanks again and then hang up.
you debate constantly during the intervening days whether you should go on tuesday. youre grateful your friend group is so slutty; it means youve already seen with your own eyes that this surgery is real and not just a lure to murder you. still, you have some reservations, which you think is perfectly understandable.
you call one of your friends whos been there already. she picks up and you say if this is a joke its only sort of funny. she says if whats a joke? you say the clinic. you say you DID give me the actual number to the place where you actually had your bottom surgery done right? she says yeah, dont worry the surgeons so sweet. you say she admitted to doing two hundred murders when she was on the phone. she says i dont know anything about that but i trust her. you say if i end up dead, kidnapped, or mutilated, its your fault. she says dont worry about it.
tuesday comes. you never agreed to an exact time so you show up as early as you can and still have it be "afternoon" in your mind - 12:30. you climb the rusted fire escape to the third floor door and knock three times. the door is answered by a woman six feet tall in casual but very nice clothes with frizzy brown hair and an expression you cant read. you say er, riley? she says nope. another girl pushes past her, exasperated. she's maybe five foot two and her wavy blonde hair is worn down, with a red bow in it. she's wearing torn jeans - naturally torn, not the sort that you buy with holes in them that youve always hated but the kind that were once normal jeans and now have worn through much of the fabric on the knees. her tshirt is faded and has stains that you cant quite place on it, but youre pretty sure it was once Eidolon merchandise.
she says damnit amy let me answer the door next time. the taller woman, amy apparently, shrugs and steps aside to let you in riley claps her hands together once youre inside and the door is shut. introductions! she shouts. amy, this is, er... I never actually got your name? you tell them your name. she says right! hes one of my clients. and this is Amy, my sister. dont worry about her, shes just a little awkward. amy says can you PLEASE not introduce me as your sister. riley says make me. then she grabs amys shirt and pulls her down, standing on her tiptoes at the same time. they kiss in a very un-sisterly way. you clear your throat politely.
riley breaks away and says right, yeah, sorry! i get distracted easy. youre here to get a dick right. you splutter a bit, both at the bluntness of the question and the fact that amy is still standing right there. riley follows your gaze. she says oh dont worry about her! sorry, i wouldve run her off earlier, i thought you wouldnt come by for another few hours. you say sorry. she says dont worry, its her fault. amy says you didnt tell me you had a client. riley says you didnt ASK. you clear your throat politely again. you say er yes, i did come in for metoidoplasty. she bites her lip and furrows her brow. she says metoido... oh right. well i dont really do that here but i can give you a dick. you say uh im not really interested in phalloplasty. she says whats phalloplasty? amy says its the construction of a penis, usually via tissue flap taken from another part of the body, often followed by the insertion of prosthetics to allow the constructed penis to achieve erection. riley says oh, huh. yeah i dont do that either. i can give you a dick though. she takes a second then puts on an exaggerated scowl. who would want that she asks? amy says lots of people prefer it to metoido for aesthetic reasons or because they dont think theyll be large enough for penetrative sex with metoido. riley says but it wouldnt feel like a dick! man, some surgeons are talentless hacks.
you clear your throat again. you say so if youre- riley says youre clearing your throat a lot, are you okay? you say im fine, its just- she says oh duh were being so rude! why are we all standing around here. come sit down in the living room, do you want anything to drink? she leads you into the living room. it has the unmistakable air of a room thats been cleaned recently, with vacuuming marks present in the carpet and the unmistakable scent of air freshener. the sofa that you're gestured to sit on is, by contrast, unbelievably filthy. stains of every sort are visible on it - some of them are obvious, like the patches of blood and vomit or the ring of a coffee mug. others take you a second to place, like the crusty streak along one cushion that you realize all at once is semen, or the sticky yellow parts that you hope to god are honey. some of them, like the muddy green handprint along one arm of the sofa or the deep black smudge along a seat, are completely foreign to you. you can smell it from several feet away.
amy notices your hesitancy. she says i keep telling her to throw that thing out. riley says and i keep telling HER that its a relic from earth bet! its an antique and itll be worth millions soon. it just needs a good deep cleaning. amy says what that sofa needs is a bullet, not a deep clean. you sit down. drink? riley asks. you say er what do you have? she says water, diet coke, vodka, coffee. no more beer though, SOMEBODY drank the last one. amy says you never said they were off limits! riley says they arent, im just teasing. you say waters fine. riley says aaaaaaaaaamyyyyyyy, could you pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase go get our guest a glass of water and me a diet coke? oh and can you grab the pill bottle on the second shelf of the spice cabinet. amy says sure, i'll be right back.
riley sits down next to you. she says sooooooo what do you want for your dick? you say sorry, if youre not doing phallo or metoido then what exactly are you offering? she says no offense but it would take like literally eight years to give you enough background info for you to understand my explanation, and i dont have that kind of time. im not getting any younger. except for when i am. she laughs louder than you thought a human could. you have no idea how to describe the sound of her laughter. she says just tell me about your dream dick and ill give it to you. trust me, im a doctor.
except that youre not, amy says, returning with glasses and pills in hand. she sets the water down in front of you and you immediately take large gulps, feeling very much lost right now. riley says am TOO, accepting the pill bottle and diet coke from amy. she frowns. why is it can diet coke, she asks? she says glass bottle is so much better. she says why did i even BUY can. amy says they are literally the same liquid, what do you mean its better. riley says theyre not the same, stop deluding yourself. amy says which of us is the REAL doctor? riley says both of us! the PRT finally issued me an equivalency. youre talking to doctor riley davis, MED. amy says oh really? congrats she says. riley beams. then she unscrews the lid of the unlabeled, dark brown glass bottle, grabs three pills, and pops them into her mouth.
what is that you ask. ectasy she says. you want some? you say no thanks. she says you sure? you say i probably shouldnt take drugs before an operation, what if it interacts with the anesthetic? riley says dont worry, i made my own anesthetic that has zero drug-drug interactions. amy says except with sudafed. riley says ok YEAH except with sudafed, how was i supposed to know? she glances at you. you dont take sudafed do you she asks. you say no. she says good. it was such a bitch cleaning the pus off the ceiling she says. you say huh? she says dont worry about it, you dont take sudafed. she says are you sure you dont want any ecstasy? i promise its pure. you say i dont want to get addicted. she says i can surgically remove the addiction pathway from your brain if that would help. amy says riley, no means no. riley says fine. do you want any ecstasy babe? she says no thanks. riley frowns. she says you guys are a bunch of squares. she pops a fourth one and starts chugging diet coke.
she slams the can down after drinking what must be half of it, wipes her mouth with her arm and grins. sorry, we keep getting distracted! she says. she says im getting into the start of a manic episode and that always makes me roll right over people in conversation. what do you want for your dick? you say um. i hadnt really thought about it. its not normally a choice beyond the type of surgery, you sort of just end up with whatever the doctors are able to make work? thats lame she says. why are normal doctors all so lame she says. ok, rude amy says. OBVIOUSLY im not talking about you babe riley says. and stop distracting me from my client! amy holds up her hands in mock surrender, an easy smile on her face.
you didnt bring a toy with you did you, riley asks. you say huh. she says sometimes people bring a toy that they want me to model it after and that makes everything a lot easier. you say no you didn't. you say i hadn't really thought about my preferences, can we go dealer's choice on this? amy pipes up. she says you REALLY dont want riley to go dealers choice. riley says shut up and get me another diet coke, i just finished this one. amy says yes princess. you honestly cant read whether it was meant to be mocking or endearing. riley turns back to you. ok, she says, lets start with basics. primate? canid? equine? suine? dolphin? i could give you a hyena pseudopenis but i dont know if that would be offensive. you say human is fine. she says please dont tell me you're gonna just be boring this whole time. you say define boring. she sighs deeply and starts massaging her temples. amy, having stepped into the room in time to hear the last bit of conversation, tousles rileys hair. she says sorry babe, customer's always right.
you work out the appearance of your soon-to-exist cock this way. riley asks questions about length, girth, hair, amount of semen generated, percentage growth when erect, and you try to give what you think are average answers every time. amy watches, bemused, the whole time. halfway through she leaves to get the bottle of vodka. she drinks five shots in fifteen minutes. you say i didnt think the human body had that much capacity for alcohol resistance. she says it doesnt. riley swats playfully at her arm.
eventually, riley grabs a set of crayons and a cocktail napkin. she says ok, i think we got it, scribbling furiously. she shows you a crayon drawing of a dick. this look good she asks? you squint at it. there are no measurements given and the medium does not allow you to make out any fine detail. you say yeah thats fine. amy tries and fails to hide a smile. riley chucks the napkin aside and rubs her hands together. boring parts done! she says. time to get messy she says. amy pours a sixth shot of vodka. she says dont forget the anesthetic first. riley rolls her eyes. she says OBVIOUSLY i didnt forget the anesthetic. she says ill be right back. as soon as she leaves the room, amy knocks back her shot. she turns to you. she says you mind if i stay and watch? she says i dont want to make you uncomfortable, but i like watching her work. shes cute when shes working. you say at this point youre not sure you would mind anything at all. you say at this point you dont think you would be fazed if she came back with a fully-formed dick wriggling around in her hand like a fish and sewed it onto me. she says dont tempt fate.
riley comes back with a black bag the size of her head, which she sets on the coffee table with a thunk. she points at you and says okay, clothes off. or pants off i guess. you can leave the shirt on. or take it off. i dont care. you take it off. she tells you to lie down and starts pulling things out of the bag. amy stands up from the sofa to give you the space to stretch out and sits on the coffee table instead, one leg pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on her knee.
riley pulls out a syringe from the bag, filled with pitch-black fluid. she says okay this will hurt for a second but only for a second. you say huh? she flips you over onto your belly and jabs the needle against your lower back, into your spinal column. it hurts like a bitch for all of two seconds and then you stop feeling anything at all in your lower body. you also cant move your legs, you realize. what just happened you ask, as she flips you onto your back again. she says i just killed all the cells in the nerves in your lower spine. she says its the easiest way to make sure none of the pain signals slip through, and she'll just replace them with living ones when she's done. you don't know how to respond to that.
she pulls more things out of the bag. a cartoonish array of different cutting implements come out. most of them are various sizes of medical scalpel, ring cutter, or saw, but you also see a pair of chunky pink safety scissors, a pizza cutter, a serrated bread knife, an x-acto, a drill with a comically long bit, a pair of wire cutters, gardening shears, and an awl. she says okay im gonna start operating so look away if you dont wanna see how your crotch looks while its being rearranged. especially if you think you might puke, i hate having to stop to clean up puke in the middle of surgery. you look away. you notice amy is watching transfixed.
for a couple of hours things go on like that. amy and riley make light conversation, with riley filling any silence by humming a wordless tune you dont know. the sounds and smells youre getting are enough to make you slightly sick; you continue not looking.
in the middle of hour two, riley stops. oh goddamnit, she says. what amy asks? riley says she forgot that shed need extra meat. amy says you started a surgery to give somebody a whole new organ and forgot youd need more tissue to do it? riley says shut up, im dumb. amy says no youre not babe. riley says ughhhhh now what. amy says just get his stem cells to grow the tissue you need. riley says nooooooo thatll take forever, and i have places to BE tomorrow, and if i stop putting pressure on him here hes going to bleed out through his cunt. you say wait, what? amy says well i dont know what you want me to do about this situation, i gave you my solution. riley says baaaaaaaaaaabe. amy says whaaaaaaaaaaaat. riley says i think we have some bacon in the fridge, will you pretty please with sprinkles on top go get it? amy says and what do i get in return? riley says a kiss. amy says id get that anyway. riley says my undying love and affection. amy says i have that already. riley says not making me angry at you so you can sleep under my roof without having to worry that ill turn your sweat glands into acid glands in the middle of the night. amy says that, plus i get to top tonight. riley says fiiiiiiiiine, just go get the bacon. amy gets up.
you say look uh i know you said not to question what youre doing but i kind of dont want a dick made of bacon, not to sound ungrateful. also did you say something about me bleeding out? riley says dont worry, if you bleed out ill put the blood back in, im a professional. you say thats not as reassuring as she thinks it is. riley says whos the doctor, mister? you say technically both of us. i have a phd in social sciences you say. she says wow, theyre just giving out doctorates for anything these days, huh? you say hey, rude. she says only teasing. you say anyway, uh, you didnt address the bacon dick thing? she says oh dont worry about it, my amys amazing, youll see.
amy comes back in with the package of bacon. do you need this in any particular shape she asks. riley says nah just give me a good amount of it. and make sure its spongy, so when he gets hard the blood can- amy cuts her off. she says dont worry, ive given you enough penises at this point that i think i know what penile tissue is like at this point. you say given her enough penises? what the hell does that mean? riley says hey, dont kinkshame! she sounds legitimately offended. you say sorry. amy pulls the bacon out of the package, holding it aloft in her left hand. you watch as the familiar look of a half-pound of bacon shifts and warps into a strange lump of fatty, spongy tissue of a waxy color. she hands it to riley. riley says thanks sis youre the best, love you! amy says no problem. riley says id kiss you if i wasnt elbow deep in this guys cunt right now. amy says kiss me after the surgerys done.
another two hours go by. the sounds of flesh being chopped, sawed, and stitched underscore riley and amys meaningless conversation about whether they HAVE to attend their acquaintance lisa's birthday party. riley says lisa probably wouldn't throw a birthday party if there wasn't some sort of scheme going on. amy agrees but says that doesnt indicate whether they should get involved with the scheme or not. you wonder dimly if you will ever feel your lower body again. you wonder if this is purgatory, an endless afternoon of lesbians bickering affectionately while one of them does surgery on you. you turn your head enough to look at the clock. its 5:26pm. where the fuck did the time go?
another hour passes. riley stands up. she is soaked up to her elbow in various bodily fluids - mostly blood, but youre not looking too closely. she says finally! she says just need to regrow your nerve cells now. you say is that going to take long? she says like twenty minutes maybe as she flips you over. you say ok. she jams a different needle into the same spot, injecting a strange yellow paste into your spine. she then flips you onto your back again. you feel brave enough to finally look at your crotch.
there is a completely normal human penis of average size there. you reach a hand down and touch it. you dont have any sensation in it yet since your nerves are all still dead, but it feels warm and soft under your hands. you smile, feeling tears come to your eyes. its over.
rileys talking. she says i followed your specifications except i had to cheat a bit on the nerves, you actually didnt have very many in your clit for whatever reason so your glans has maybe eight thousand fewer nerves than you wanted, sorry about that. she says i gave you balls in your scrotum for shape but since you said you didnt want kids they dont produce sperm. let me know if you want that changed she says. she says it should be fully functional in every respect, but if you notice any erectile dysfunction, incontinence, discoloration in urine or semen, priapism, or any other issue come back and we'll sort it out. if you notice it bleeding in ANY capacity, call me immediately. if im not answering call Amy, ill give you her number. if SHES not answering either then you can start seeing normal doctors, not that those idiots will know how to help you probably. if you want any changes to it call me and ill pencil you in to get it adjusted. get all that she asks. you nod. she says cool. she says itll be like $200, no rush if youre not able to pay right now. you say it might be a bit since youre still trying to pay interest on your student loan debt. wait, she says, they have student loans again? you nod. she says the world ended like thirty years ago, when did they set up student loans again? fuck, how much do you owe? you say a little under eighty thousand. she says jesus fuck, nevermind, its free. goddamn. you say thank you so much. she says yeah of course. do you want us to dress you or do you want to wait until you can move and do it yourself?
3K notes · View notes
delicatefury · 1 year ago
Text
Look. I have literally no horse in this race when it comes to the WGA/SAG Hollywood strike. I do not watch enough TV or movies to be affected and I’m not a part of the industry. I really haven’t cared.
As a lawyer and orchardist, however, I am now utterly entranced by the fact that some Universal Studios exec thought it was a good idea to cut down city-owned trees in the middle of summer.
There is no way to get around the absolute clusterfuck they have brought down upon themselves.
First, the ownership question. These trees are not owned by Universal. They’re the City of Los Angeles’ trees. That means the responsibility, and the right, to maintain them belongs to the city government. If you want to touch city property like that, you better have their permission. If not, you’re looking at anything from fines, to replacement/maintenance costs, to jail time.
Now, I don’t know LA, and I’m not licensed in California, but a lot of cities also require permits for any massive trimming like that that can affect public property (like the roads and sidewalks).
Second, they have zero excuses that can even remotely minimize the trouble they’re in. Anything that justifies that kind of pruning at this time of year would have likely required the full removal and destruction of the trees.
Because that level of pruning? You don’t do that in summer. You absolutely do not do that in summer unless the trees are dying or infested with something. Why? Because summer is healthy growth time. Summer is when your trees need all the energy they can get so they can grow and strengthen their branches and roots.
It’s also when they’re susceptible to diseases. Various bacteria, fungi, and insects strike during the summer and can cause severe damage. By trimming those trees so severely, not only are there a ton of gapping wounds for diseases to enter the tree, they’re now stressed by trying to replace that lost growth, which makes it even harder for them to survive any further damage.
Basically, Universal Studios might end up accidentally killing the trees. Which will make everything so much worse.
So, yeah. Now I’m invested.
6K notes · View notes
here-for-fanart · 2 months ago
Text
Guilty: Owning restricted items without a permit, attempted murder (of self...illegal in some countries), breaking and entering (Heimerdinger's lab), trespassing (Heimerdinger's lab), illegal experimentation (not authorized), destruction of public and private property (Heimerdinger's Lab in the Academy), participating in political corruption (taking bribes), and involuntary manslaughter (kid).
Tumblr media
Submitted by the-halcyon-effect
21 notes · View notes
zvaigzdelasas · 4 months ago
Text
“Very aggressive” homeless encampment sweeps, as recently touted by Mayor London Breed, began Tuesday morning in San Francisco following a major U.S. Supreme Court ruling.
The Standard witnessed aggressive enforcement action under the Central Freeway, carried out by police, the Department of Public Works, Department of Emergency Management, Homeless Outreach Team and San Francisco Fire Department.
Homeless people were not notified of the sweeps ahead of time, as has previously been the norm, according to a schedule of encampment clearings and a city official who was on the scene.[...]
“One of the DPW workers started hollering past me, ‘I’m taking everything today,’ ” Tannahill said. “They were adamant that there wasn’t going to be enough time to pack up the tent.”
By 10:30 a.m., all city workers who were clearing the encampment had moved down the block, to the corner of 13th and Harrison streets.
Brandon Cunningham, the fire department’s incident commander at the scene of an encampment sweep near 13th and South Van Ness streets, told The Standard he was unsure whether people living at the site were notified beforehand. Tuesday’s schedule of encampment clearances, obtained by The Standard, does not list the location.[...]
City staff have previously given notice to encampment occupants days before conducting a clearing.
In a video captured by The Standard, a police officer can be heard explaining to a person whose belongings have just been thrown onto a truck bed that encampments are “no more.”
“London Breed, the mayor, Gov. Gavin Newsom says no more on the streets, no more encampments. No more. This is what it’s come down to. This is our laws,” the officer said.
Max Gunn and Kara Sullivan, who have been homeless in San Francisco for roughly two years, told The Standard the city threw away some of their clothes. Gunn said members of the Homeless Outreach Team told him there were no shelter beds available.
“They got my clothes,” Sullivan said. “They laughed at me and did a mocking New York accent and acted like they were tough.”
A spokesperson for the Department of Emergency Management disputed the individual’s account, saying everyone was offered shelter during Tuesday’s action.[...]
Nisha Kashyap, an attorney representing the Coalition on Homelessness in the suit against the city, called the sweeps “alarming” and “unacceptable.”
“The city’s conduct blatantly violates the existing injunction against property destruction and disregards its own laws and policies that mandate advance notice and the provision of shelter and services,” Kashyap said in a statement Tuesday. “By ignoring the injunction, the city is not only acting unlawfully but also stripping people of their basic survival necessities, making it harder for them to exit homelessness.”
A statement from the mayor’s office said the city’s “street response will consist of offers of services and support on a daily basis, targeted encampment resolutions, and coordinated efforts to prevent re-encampments and new areas from being encamped.”
In a memo shared Tuesday by the mayor’s office, officials said they seek to prevent encampments from cropping up again once they have been cleared.[...]
The memo also outlines the consequences homeless individuals may face if they continue to camp on the city’s streets and refuse shelter. These penalties include citations and possible arrest.
“The goal is not punishment, it is compliance,” the memo reads.
30 Jul 24
751 notes · View notes
if-you-fan-a-fire · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
“Fined For Causing Trouble at Morton,” Kingston Whig-Standard. November 11, 1932. Page 5. ---  Limestone City Encampment of Kingston Pays Visit to Gananoque ---- GANANOQUE, Nov. 11— Ross and Thomas Knapp of Newboro paid ten dollars and costs each in Magistrate Sampson's police court yesterday morning where they were charged with creating a disturbance at a meeting in Morton on October 31. Similar charges against Elmer Murphy and Joseph Myers of Westport were dismissed for lack of evidence. Provincial Constable R. E. Noble prosecuted.
Following the disposition of the above case five local youths appeared before the magistrate charged with destroying property on the night of October 31st and pleaded guilty to the charge. They were assessed $1 fine and $2.75 costs in each case. 
The property damaged was the Williams estate on King street west and after the testimony of one of the trustees as to the extent of the damage done, the boys were asked if they had anything to say. They hadn’t. Whereupon Magistrate Sampson gave them some sound advice regarding the consequences which were likely to follow such depredations. 
The front steps of the property in question had beer torn to pieces and while the boys claimed that they had had nothing to do with that part of the damage done but had merely removed a "For Sale" sign, the bench stressed the fact that they were on the scene doing something unlawful and the natural supposition was that they had been responsible for the whole affair. In rendering the verdict, His Worship expressed the hope that the bays would be sensible enough to realise the consequences which were likely to result from such pranks and that they would not go bock and do the same thing next year.
0 notes