#don't smoke and drive
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sweetsuo · 3 months ago
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𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬
Toji Fushiguro x F!Reader
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Cw. afab!reader. Cheating. Infidelity. Dacryphilia. Temperature play. Burning. Fingering. Smoking.
 Genre. [ fic. Smut. See tags for notes.] You're Megumi's girlfriend and his father is not someone you thought you'd catch the eye of in the kitchen.
Wc. 3.6k
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This was fucked up. It was fucked up and you knew it was. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but it’s the only way your heart squeezed in that sickeningly pleasant way – the only reason you wanted to sleep over any more.
You looked up at him, eyes dancing over the serenity in his features. Handsome. Somehow boyish in the length of his lashes and the way his lips parted in a slight laugh. He made you feel like an endangered animal – preciously encaged for safety and sanctuary yet never letting you see home again.
Your breath fluttered and you were completely certain he could hear the way your heart swirled in your eardrums. It was evident in the way his head tilted slightly as his deep gray-blue eyes went from your chest, to your lips, to yours eyes. You held your breath, rolled your lip between your teeth, and averted your eyes.
The tile of the kitchen floor was cold against your bare feet and Megumi’s shirt was big enough to graze your knees. The chill of the counter against the side of your hand reminded you of everything outside of the one in front of you.
“W-what?”
“Can I have the milk?”
Toji leaned his hip on the black marble countertop, hand laying over yours on the cardboard milk carton as he took it from you. It was a slight graze of a touch, but you felt the calluses of his fingers trickle across the delicate skin of the back of your hand. You repressed a shudder. Your chin dipped down. Your hand let go of the carton.
“Thanks. What’re you doing up so late, Princess? Gumi kick you off the bed again?”
You felt the warmth of his body as he shifted, bicep grazing onto your upper arm as he poured the milk into the coffee. The nickname always peeved Megumi in a way he couldn’t fully explain. You would reassure him it was fine, it’s just because his dad was a dick. Toji said it was because Megumi spoiled you.
“No,“ you watched as black espresso turned to a pretty caramel. Suddenly your tea wasn’t as appetizing anymore. For a moment your brows furrowed and you were aware that it was 3:15am, “why are you drinking coffee?”
Toji laughed. It’s deep and gruff and sounds like tires over a gravel driveway. This time you can’t suppress the shudder. It’s been this way since Toji came back from his business trip. You never met him up until the last semester. At least not in person. He was usually away. Megumi never knew what he did or how he afforded the house. 
Either way, whenever classes let up or between semesters, you’d come to his suburban home and basically live with him. You loved Megumi very much and you have for the year and a half you’ve been dating. You’d kiss him goodbye whenever you left to see your parents, but there was something about his dad that kept you coming back.
Maybe it was the first night you woke up in the middle of the night. Megumi had kicked you off the bed by accident. There was only so much room for two 20-years-olds and a large dog. It was bound to happen one day or another. It was simply unfortunate that you scraped your arm on a bent piece of metal from his bed frame, leaving a long scratch that pebbled red. You traversed down the steps and having forgotten your glasses on the nightstand, had to rummage through the drawers to find a band aid.
Toji was there, leaning on a counter by the sink, gazing out the window. The sweet scent of cherry tobacco lingered despite the open air. At first, your throat cinched around your thumping heart. You thought he was an intruder. You couldn’t see his features, but the way the moon abstractly bounced off them, you immediately knew who he was just by shape. Megumi got his good looks from someone and that someone was right in front of you.
“You’re bleeding,” he stated blandly, only taking a second to look at you from the corner of his eyes.
“I am?” You knew you were. That’s why you had your arm up like an injured paw and a hand in a drawer full of homeless kitchen appliances, “I am.”
“So you are,” he chuckled. Toji stood at full height and you swore you nearly gasped. The corner of his scarred mouth curled then flattened as he turned to you. He grabbed a paper towel, fingers grasping onto the tips of yours. His palm was warm, soft, tender on the flesh of your arm. The paper towel pressed to provide a temporary fix as he guided you along to the bathroom to pull out a bandage.
You remember every moment of that night; how the sink felt pressing against the small of your back and how his thigh leaned almost too heavily onto yours as he meticulously took care of the minor cut. In his defense, the bathroom was small – one of the ones that fit awkwardly under a staircase and only had a toilet and a sink. It didn’t excuse the way his hand brushed your hair back when everything was settled. You still felt guilty that you tilted your chin to better feel the backs of his fingers against your neck.
For as often as you felt guilty, soon to follow was an echo of his parting words.
“Mr. Fushiguro takes care of his guests – especially Gumi’s Princess.” His smile was strangely sweet when he exited the bathroom, leaving you to collect your staggered breath.
It was that night, and plenty of nights after, that you woke Megumi up by putting his hand on your cunt and asking if daddy could take care of you. The kisses he’d press to your forehead lingered warmly, lovingly. Bitterly.
Brought back by the metallic thwip of a bic lighter, Toji cupped his hand to the flame, lighting the cherry cigarette you would smell when you were lonely in your dorm. It overpowered the familiar scent of eucalyptus you’d once loved.
“For the same reason everyone drinks coffee,” He laughed once through his nose, expression slackening as his gaze lingered on yours. He dragged on the cigarette and exhaled for longer than usual. The swirl of smoke passing over the curve of his lips was beautiful. He quirked a brow, curiously entertained, “Withdrawal?”
You dry swallowed. He offered you the cigarette with an offhand comment you couldn’t quite hear. The end of the cig faced you and you leaned, wrapping your lips around it. The subtle graze of his fingers on your lips tickled. You never smoked before. Through thick lashes, your gazes met and you swore something passed over his. You sucked. You coughed. You secretly loved the taste of burnt cherry.
“That’s not how you do it,” his voice was dark navy and for a moment, as small tears welled from the remaining spasm of your lungs, you thought he would scold you for lying. Hushed, he pressed the cigarette back to your lips, “Try again.”
Obediently, your lips found their way around the stick. You had Toji’s attention on you in the same way a starling bird had a peregrine falcon’s. You felt wanted by something hungry.
You waited patiently for his order, looking up to him with those pretty, expectant eyes. You barely noticed his hand slowly pulling the cigarette. Your lips stayed connected. He felt your breath fan the backs of his fingers.
“Are you going to suck it, or what?” There was a bite to his voice and you took a long, nervous drag. The crackling burning paper filled the space between you. You tried to inhale it all and the burn made your eyes water. Toji’s head tilted by a minuscule as your lips detached, leaving a small string of saliva attached to the end. Bleary eyes matched his, desiring his approval. His free hand cupped your cheek, giving a slight tap, “I’m not going to spoil you like Megumi does, Princess.”
Strong hands grabbed under the thickest part of your thighs, hoisting you up and onto the cold marble counter. Megumi’s shirt was disregarded and hiked up to the crease of your hip. The hiss of hot ash sprinkled on your thighs matched the heady hiss your tongue made against teeth. Toji smirked. The burn was replaced by his rough hands smoothing over the supple flesh. He gripped your ass, hauling you to the edge of the counter.
This was wrong.
Your heart throbbed in your chest and even more between your legs. Your Thighs squeezed together as Toji leaned into your neck, biting hard. His thumbs dug into the junction of your thigh and hip, keeping you sat firmly on the counter top.
Megumi was upstairs.
Toji’s mouth trailed down your neck as the tips of his fingers traced up along bare skin. You could feel him smirk against your neck. Surely the warmth of his lips could feel how fast the blood pumped through you. You felt light headed, impatient for the touch of his chilled fingers. The man before you nudged his cheek onto yours and you felt the subtle graze of his spudding 5 o’clock shadow.
He said nothing, but you heard the change his breathing. Hiis middle finger slipped between your glossy lips - the touch was so cold, you gasped and your cunt clenched on nothing at all. The pad of his middle finger moved slowly in a circle, then traced down. It was so slow that your body writhed for more. To try and coax the digit in, your entrance throbbed. He headed to call to its beck. Rather than satiate your starving sex, Toji brushed up to your clit. Totally in control of you, his fingers dance in cruel repetition.
His spare hand trailed up your torso, pulling his son’s shirt up to expose you bit by bit. The shirt never came off, no. It’s not like he needed it to when you wore nothing underneath it. He’d be lying if he didn’t notice how your nipples perked and your stance shifted when he entered the kitchen. He felt your eyes on his back when he opened the fridge. Deliberately (and with the goodness in his heart), he allowed your longing gaze to linger on him. It was laughable that you were pressing your bare chest into the palm of his hand, The tissue malleable and molten under his touch. It was euphoric. You gave into his touch so desperately.
Toji’s grin widened, Cheshire-like against you. His breath was hot against your ear and the baritone of his voice was enough to make you swallow a whine, “Maybe Gumi doesn’t spoil his Princess like I thought. You’re really this cock hungry? I barely touched you,” his finger tapped on your swollen clit and you jerked in response, curling forward and trembling digit gripping onto his impossibly tight shirt. Practically on the brink of tears from the way he teased you, you wondered how hands so cold could feel like they burned like the ash on your thighs.
Fuck. Fuck.  
The hands gripping his shirt slapped the cold counter when you pulled your torso away to back on your forearms. Your brows knit and your chin tilted back. Megumi’s shirt draped over your tits like fine silk. What a fucking delicious sight. Desperate. That’s exactly how you looked with your nose scrunched and lips drawn in a tight line. Your fists were balled and legs spread wide, separated by his body. He admired that the first thing spilled on the freshly installed black marble was the drool of your cunt.
Toji persisted despite the painful ache of his cock. He wanted you to grovel for him, prove his suspicion that his son lacked the same skill to make you a drooling mess. Why? The answer was simple instinct to him. The aftermath of his divorce left him in shambles. But then again, papers were filed the second he fucked his sister-in-law on wifey’s new BMW (and doubled down on when she found the recording of him with the couple’s therapist). Validation, maybe. He had nothing to prove or no need for it. He just wanted to know that he could fuck anyone he wanted anywhere he wanted, no matter who they were.
You opened your mouth to scream in frustration. Your legs shook, every part of your body wanted something to fill you. Empty. Empty fucking. Empty satisfaction. The slap was followed by the sound of skittering upstairs.
You paled and your heart threatened to burst with anxiety. Complete silence took over the kitchen and your mind emptied, listening for the familiar sound of your boyfriend’s footsteps. Eyes looked over your shoulder and suddenly you were very aware of the fact that every entrance leading to the kitchen was an open walkway.
The man between your legs had paused then, lips slack as he listened. He had good hearing. Good senses. His fingertips sprawled on top of your mound, palm pressing against your fluttering entrance absent-mindedly. It was merely the dog. He trained it to only bark or alert of certain triggers. This was certainly not one of them. Your reaction though- he could work with that.
His fingers circled your clit and you feared he would continue his cruel tease. Toji could see through your expression like the Bermuda seas. He leaned forward, hand slowly tipping over your entrance as his words filled your mind, “What happens if you’re caught?”
Your breathing stopped completely. Dread, excitement, and two long digits filled you. Just as you had expected, every second of teasing coated your walls. Every nerve ending had been meticulously prepared for something to touch them, trigger them to ignite. Your walls spasmed readily and your knees gripped the sides of Toji’s hips. He experimented with you for a while, salivating when tears pinched past your lashes. In the back of his mind, he needed you to break before you got his cock. He was getting slightly impatient. His hands were cold and you could feel every single motion of his fingers in you. Your mind could paint a picture of every ridge his digits had to offer simply from his temperature.
He leaned over. His tongue was hot. With a single broad, strong, and long open-mouthed lap along your clit, you unwound. A free hand slapped over your mouth, muffling the near animalistic yowl you let out. He smirked.
Bet Megumi never heard that sound.
As soon as your walls slowed and your voice died out, Toji shoved the band of his sweats under his cock. He could tell by your blissed out glaze that you weren’t entirely processing what was to come. He could fix that.
Hands pulled you half-way off the counter. You yelped, shivering at the slick on the surface beneath you. Toji held you under your knees, practically forcing you to prop yourself up on your elbows. He cooed, “Good girl.” The way you stared at his cock like it were god itself had a dribble of precum roll down his length. A bare minimum of 8-9 inches stood at attention, positioned right under you. Your arousal drizzled over him and if your mind worked, you would’ve offered to lick it off like one would a warm sugar glaze.
He adjusted his arms so that the underneath of your thighs were supported by his hands and your knees hooked over his arms. Your own arms wobbled and shook. The muscle ache was blunted by his thick tip pressing onto your entrance. You had no option but to give him the reins. His focus was entirely on the junction between his tanned cock pressing into you. It was almost endearing, how this look of fascination came over his harsh features, enrapturing your gaze like a renaissance painting.
He guided your hips in a circle, bending his knees slightly to swirl against you. The scar at the corner of his lip twitched in gratification when you throatily let out a long high note. He lowered you onto him in bit by bit. Slight thrust in. Draw back. Slight thrust in. Draw back.
Every. Single. Time. He drew out, you wanted to cry out. You could take it. Toji continued to carefully make his way into you. He was large and he learned from mistakes of drilling in too soon. Sure, he slipped in easy enough, but he still met resistance to the stretch. He didn’t want to hurt you. Or at least that was until you opened your pretty mouth.
“Stop fucking around. I can take Gumi’s dick, I can take yours.”
Your lips formed into a pout and the words backhanded his ego. So this is what Megumi dealt with. Oh no, he couldn’t have that. You were obviously trying to get a rise out of him like the brat you were. Toji darkly chuckled, “So this is what’s got him around your finger, huh? You want me to ‘stop fucking around’?”
He pulled your right leg across his chest so that it rested along his left shoulder. The left leg was guided around his waist. “By your command, Princess.” He thrust in hard, shoving his cock through the tightness. The pace was relentless. Harsher, meaner, heavier than even Megumi’s was at his roughest. Your mind erased the fact that you were in the kitchen of a house. It erased the fact that your arms felt like they were going to tear. It erased the sweat under your palms as you white-knuckled the edge of the marble. It erased Megumi, peacefully asleep upstairs.
All you felt was the hot vibration of your clambering walls and the searing hot brand of his cock burning into your core. Everything fuzzed, scattered with every near full pull, then came crashing back with every push. The position itself allowed for the force of your own weight to freely bounce back on him without him needing to do much. He still gripped your limbs with such force there would be bruises.  He wrapped your other leg around his waist patting your thighs to grip him as he changed his thrusts to slow, deep. Toji peeled off the shirt, a glisten to his every muscle under the dim light as it reached over his head. Arms were up high as it was shimmied off, but his thrusts were controlled. Abs worked, tensed in a motion so beautiful that you were absolutely certain that this was and would be your only religious experience.
The shirt hit the floor. Toji licked his thumb. The palm of his hand rested along your pubic bone, tilted so that he could graze your clit in such a gentle, yet effective way that you reeled. You bucked with him, using your legs to draw him in more until you felt a sharp pleasure rake your cervix, claw down the up-side of your walls. He dragged out. He thrust in.
He was close and was grappling for why the hell it was taking you so long. He felt how you squeezed his cock over and over. Your breathing slowed whenever it happened and there was a certain flicker going off in your half-lidded gaze. Your walls got tighter each time, but never released. For once in his life, Toji Fushiguro thought he had met his match in stamina. There was a click of his tongue, “What the fuck are you waiting for? Are you a dog? Only can cum on command, bitch?” His words came from annoyance and impatience.
You nodded.
Trained her like a bitch, didn’t you?
“Cum.”
There was finally release. The hot iron brandish pressed hard into your walls, your abdomen, your throat. Your walls shuddered so violently, Toji nearly lost grip. A beat behind you, his cock thrusts jerked. You’re mouth opened with a silent moan, all muscles tensing in response. Hot. He was hot and fast and you felt each rope melt along your walls and drip off.
Pulling out his softened cock, Toji looked to the dark tile ground beneath you coated in a mix of a translucent glaze and thick white. He took mercy on you then, leaning and looping an arm under your back and pulling you to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and for a sprinkle of a second he could see what Megumi saw. One hand held you up under your ass while the other pulled his sweats up. The house was quiet once more as he grabbed paper towels to clean you up.
After all was said and done, Toji sat on the couch with you on his lap, nestled into the crook of his neck. His hand supported your back as you sniffled your way back to the present day. He wasn’t great at aftercare and if he were being honest, any quick fuck had ended when he came (which was usually last). He was indifferent to the sniffles and indifferent to the way you made little sounds of comfort to yourself. You were doing what you needed to to keep yourself together. If that included reliving each moment Megumi placed a loving hand to your cheek and cooed at how well you did, then so be it. Who you craved at the end of the night wasn’t him. 
Toji wasn’t one to be possessive - yet he rubbed small circles on your back, believing that he could be. 
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aninonimosstuff-blog · 18 days ago
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So you don't really like sweets? What other flavour DO you like? You don't seem the spicy or sour kind to me. Do you even have a favourite dish?
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femmesandhoney · 1 year ago
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it should not only be punishable if they don't, but completely expected for any and all smokers to go outside when they smoke. idc if it's your house and you think the garage is "close enough" get the fuck outside and stop making the garage now just reek of smoke yall fucking suck lmao. smokers can freeze in a blizzard if they want to smoke that bad.
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commsroom · 2 years ago
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i can't stop thinking about eiffel's birthday. he's almost forty. there's no way he ever thought he would live to be forty, by bad luck or bad habits; he was facing twenty-six years in prison before he was thirty, he thought he'd die in deep space (in a multitude of ways), and even before all of that... i don't think eiffel ever planned to have a future, not really. he's almost forty. he's old enough to watch his daughter grow up. to get gray in his hair. to have all of the junk food he's eaten in his life finally catch up to him.
and on the other side of that, you know he teased minkowski relentlessly when she turned forty, with no foresight that it would one day be him. and he is so, so lucky she's not as petty as she could be. i don't think turning forty bothered her that much, but eiffel? oh he's going to have a crisis. he should get a motorcycle; he tinkers with it and shows it off and talks about it constantly, but he never learns how to actually ride it. he keeps putting that part off.
he's turning forty. i realize the implications of that really depend on how you feel about eiffel post-canon, in a variety of ways. but to me it's like a celebration of his long history of unlikely survival. it's so funny and heartbreaking and heartwarming in equal measure, and i think that's a very doug eiffel combination of emotions.
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frankensteinmutual · 6 months ago
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one of my housemates is so fucking sensitive it turns me into a person I do not like
#like i always thought /i/ was 'overly' sensitive but my god. you cannot say ANYTHING around her#every little thing is too much for her everything is a trigger everything makes her tell you it wasn't okay for you to say around her or not#warning her about first like my sister in christ how the fuck should i have known this was a problem for you#maybe print out a trigger list and send it to all of us or something#but breathing is probably on there so#truly i hate how i sound i don't want to be like this but she's just playing the victim so severely it makes me aggressive it's like. primal#and I don't care when she flees from the room all the time when we're just having normal conversations because honestly I'm glad when she's#gone but she projects her issues onto everyone and everything around her like she cannot comprehend that maybe she has a fucking problem and#should maybe learn to deal with the fucking world#people aren't horrible for simply existing around you being themselves like. ny god it just makes me so furious#like i am AWARE that i have deficits; things that are easy for other people or come natural to them that i have issues with and that's fine#I'm learning to live in my way#and i can still love myself and not blame myself for having these problems without turning everyone around me and the whole fucking world#into the problem instead#i don't know if I'm even conveying what i mean#it's just this fucking victim complex that's driving me up the walls#she sees herself as so innocent and actually she's treating people like shit#man do i wish i could smoke about this
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cidnangarlond · 1 month ago
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I need to hang out with my grandma again I need to get high with her
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pr4yerp0sition · 2 months ago
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isamu with a long braid is fueling me
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kurokoros · 4 months ago
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first of all, the duffers absolutely didn't have the full series planned out from the start because Stranger Things was originally pitched as a limited series with 1) the potential for a direct "sequel" that would follow the younger kids as adults (basically, they pitched "It") or 2) an outright sci-fi horror anthology. second of all, even if the duffers did have everything mapped out from the start that doesn't mean that plan isn't garbage.
#strangerthoughts#sorry ST reddit is driving me INSANE. please crawl back out of the duffers' asses#these guys literally lost the plot back in S3 and course corrected so hard that everyone collectively experienced whiplash#if they had any kind of plan in mind it definitely wasn't until after S2#I would argue it wasn't until after S3 tbh#like. S1 was definitely intended to stand alone#S2 was a direct continuation that only happened because netflix saw the show as profitable#and the duffers scrambled to yeet something out in a little over a year#which is why the justice for barb plot is a thing and el's plot is so disconnected from the rest of the season#they had no idea what to do with her when she was SUPPOSED TO DIE#S3 feels like the duffers pitched an anthology season and netflix said no#like. I could have liked S3 as a standalone campy action comedy#but it being a wacky season in the midst of non-wacky seasons makes me wonder what the duffers were smoking#and if the duffers had a solid plan for vecna before S3 I'll give them my left kidney free of charge#because S4 is a messy season. they crammed things in there that did not need to be crammed in#they bloated the cast and clearly had no idea what to do with 75% of said cast#and when I talk about the episodes being too long I'm directly referring to how in the last episode the kill vecna crew are being#STRANGLED BY VINES and PINNED TO A WALL for like thirty minutes straight#at that point someone should have suggested they reevaluate what they just wrote. because what they wrote sucked#I genuinely don't think the duffers will ever be show runners again#I think they'll continue to direct. which they are pretty good at. but I don't see them ever writing anything majorly successful again
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cicadidae-tm9899 · 5 months ago
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Goddd i don't want to go inside 😩
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cactusismydisguise · 6 months ago
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WIP
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draco-renn · 6 months ago
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Man. All I do these days is fail to meet expectations and then get upset at myself for failing to meet those expectations. This sucks.
#the dragon sings his songs#blowing out smoke#i'm supposed to be taking this break from my course as an opportunity to do the things I've been meaning to do and I've just been rotting—#—in bed on my phone and sleeping in and jacking off like i hardly even get up to eat or go to the bathroom#side note i know this is a textbook sign of depression and burnout (comma) most likely both (comma) but who in my Chinese family is going—#—to believe that? def not mom who'll just scream at me for not sucking it up and pushing through it and not dad who won't do shit#my grandparents might believe me but there's a language barrier on mom's side plus 公公 seems to think I'm the perfect infallible capable—#—[granddaughter] and I can't bear to break his heart with the truth#and then on dad's side they'll probably be sympathetic but everything i tell them makes its way back to my parents and that'll just result—#—in ont huge blowup that'll drive another wedge between mom and dad. and I mean PLEASE hurry up and get divorced but I also don't want 爺爺—#—and 嫲嫲 to get caught in the crossfire#plus I'm supposed to be helping them esp now that 爺爺 is running out of time as an active able-bodied person but instead of doing that I—#—spent all day in bed. which is not helping my guilt and shame on top of everything else i have to deal with (comma) let alone his workload#today's such a nice sunny beautiful day too which makes me feel even worse for not even going for a walk or anything#it's still light out so i could but sunk cost fallacy is kicking my ass plus i have Mandarin class kn a couple hours#and k know it's a couple HOURS but I'd have to get dressed and set a timer and everything and just the thought is so overwhelming that I—#—just can't. i'd ask to be institutionalized if it wasn't for the rampant ableism in the mental health field plus the fact that—#—institutionalization is just an extension of incarceration#if only the people who have power over me would just listen and actually take care of me so i wouldn't have pushed myself to this point
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https-dandelion · 6 months ago
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vamptastic · 6 months ago
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this is stupid maybe but i wish ppl talked more about public transport outside of dense cities. not even rural public transport (which is hard for obvious reasons, though feasible on a small scale eg a bus to the nearest population center) but just, places that are technically a city in population but are more spread out and have lots of farmland and woods, like where i grew up and where i live now. suburban-rural i guess? but that term doesn't fully encapsulate it, to me. anyway trains and busses actually work very well in these places while walking does not. idk how much walkability you could even achieve because you're just constrained by distance (and here, by the weather- it's hot and rains frequently). but point a to point b public transport works well, especially in conjunction with bikes, scooters, and motorcycles. the assumption always seems to be that there will be a much higher density of businesses than ive ever lived around. like, i live within walking distance of a doctors office and a grocery store now, but i grew up with only car dealerships and a highway nearby, no sidewalks. but i still wouldn't consider my area walkable, i just happen to live on the edge of the neighborhood. i still do a lot of walking in the dirt or on the road. i genuinely enjoy living in places that kind of sprawled out from a downtown area and have a lot of empty space and i wonder how to integrate that with public transport, i guess.
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softshuji · 7 months ago
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You ever just randomly get hit with a traumatic memory and you're like wtf (pls don't read this if you're sensitive and stuff this is kinda...heavy???)
I was thinking about a few years ago when I went to drop my brother off to school, I was super sleep deprived cos of uni and it was very early and I walked into the road without looking, about half a second from being hit with a car before they slammed the breaks. And I was so so tired it took me a second to realize what had happened and I looked up and the person at the wheel was My dad..and it dawned on me in that second that had he not been a good driver, and had I been a second too late or even early, he'd have hit me with the car. And the worst tbing was, for some reason I wasn't thinking about how i would have died, I was thinking of how he could have killed me and it would have destroyed him to such an extent that it would have killed everyone else too. I would have ruined my family and it would have been my fault despite not being here to see it happen. And I felt sick and full of dread despite being fine in the end.
Sometimes I think of how my dad has nearly killed me on more than one occasion, and even though things are very much calmer now, and we have a semi decent relationship that isn't as bad as it was back then, I would have changed the trajectory of EVERYONE'S life had I not experienced some miracle. I wouldn't even be here, I wouldn't have ever even seen my sister (or watched her grow up along with my brothers)
And the thing is I don't blame him either, that was actually my fault. It was early and I should have been looking. Sometimes it really Dawn's on me that I must have been saved in some way, even if I don't think of how that often.
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mischiefmanifold · 8 months ago
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lol just learned that exposure to cigarette smoke while working is still considered secondhand smoke
please have the common courtesy to not smoke when going through fast food drive throughs
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thunderheadfred · 2 years ago
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anxiously waiting for my state to legalize recreational cannabis (luckily we're on track for that to happen this year)
because even though I've never been much of a recreational user, I'm increasingly interested in growing my own high-CBD/CBN medicinal stuff at home to A) have a neat new project and B) help manage my sleep disorders, depression and ADHD (none of which qualify under our state's current restrictive medical policy )
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