#fuckin tons of people do it now

[strangeandinteresting]

why are tumblr stoners so fucking annoying all like "I have Gay Sex and Smoke Weed" in the notes of every post vaguely about it like. Thats cool do you have a personality too? hobbies? or do you just like. go online and belittle ppl who dont uh. dont smoke weed and have gay sex. you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up.

[atom-bomb-baby]

.

[synthshenanigans]

there’s one on here currently and they’re bringing back up old controversy (jashshipping)

Yeaa I saw that. They also seem to post a bunch of CJ related things, so I might make the daily photos one since there isn't one for just CJ screenshots/photos

[ourceliumnetwork]

*flops on the ground sadly*

i just... i'm already struggling with the fact that i am disabled and it keeps trying to take shit from me now that i'm in a mental place to actually enjoy the nice things. i already feel like shit gets taken out from under me all the time anyway (thanks Traumatic Upbringing) and i don't need it to actually be true again. i'm pretty sure if I have to face the option of actually losing various pleasures in life i will be referred to on the news by a pseudonym. or at minimum cry a lot.

I've just learned chocolate doesn't sting other people in their mouths like a mild acid. the amount of sting chocolate is supposed to give you is zero. i just. i can't do activities, i can't have certain foods, i probably oughtn't have certain other foods but i'm gonna because if you take chocolate away from me i will be SO SAD. you'll have to watch me CRY. just SO MUCH. and i'm being ridiculous about the chocolate because i have to be because if i think about any of the further implications of my life being snatched out away from me I will not recover.

like not only did i not live up to the potential future everyone in my life said i would have as a child, but also i squandered it and then i my disabilities said i wasn't allowed to ignore them anymore and now i can't do anything even though i'm here still and i want to! i want to go and do things and enjoy life adn i FUCKING CAN'T BECAUSE MY BODY WON'T LET ME and it's

it's just a lot. it's a lot and it's always been a lot and i've always struggled with this and it's not new i just have words for it and it... i'll be okay when the pain passes but every time i just fear this will be the time that this is the amount of pain i'll be in forever and i just... i'm just so fucking tired.

and my shoulder hurts.

[bunny-jpeg]

hello bunny! may i please order a millionaire shortcake with a side of mocha coffee, served by dark!lando norris for verstappen!reader after zandvoort? thank you so so much ♡♡♡

bakery menu!

want to submit your own order? the bakery is open! (yay), there are tons of items from choose from and i am so thankful for everyone who has sent me things! i am currently working through some of the older prompts! so thank you to those who sent orders weeks ago, i am slowly getting through them <3

millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family." + mocha coffee: breeding kink served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, breeding kink, post!zandvoort gp, dirty talk/degrading language, mean!lando, doggy style, chokehold

when you saw lando sail past the finish line multiple seconds ahead of your brother, you felt your stomach drop. this was max's to win, race after race the gap between him and lando was getting smaller and smaller. but, it wasn't just your brother losing out on another world championship, it was what lando called "the icing on the cake".

he beat your brother, and afterwards he got to sink into your pussy. anything lando wanted that night, he got. and winning the dutch grand prix, your brother's home race, you could only imagine what lando had in store for you tonight.

when your gaze met lando's he winked at you and you quickly turned back to your brother. your phone buzzed in your pocket and you felt a tightness in your throat. it was going to be a long night.

if max knew what you and lando got up to in the off-hours of racing. he would probably kill lando. you've seen max get aggressive with a number of drivers, even before formula one. in fairness you carried that aggressiveness too. stubborn, assertive, bordering on mean. you had an ex-boyfriend say it was the 'lion's blood', but you proved to be too much for him. lando made you into a kitten. gone were the claws and fangs, with him you were mewling, nipping at his hands rather than chewing into flesh.

it was maybe why you kept coming back.

you stood in the mirror of lando's hotel room. you knew you should be with your family right now. but instead you ended up with the winner of the race. most would've ran by now, hidden away in the hopes that lando wouldn't sniff you out.

"he could've put me in anything, but, why this." you dropped your shoulders, "fuckin' orange." to call what lando gave you as lingerie would be a disservice to the people who carefully craft such underwear. lando put you in something a porn star would wear, barely held together with thread and lace. the icing on the cake was the temporary tattoo on your thigh close to your pussy that was of the number four. lando's number. and you knew it would be a bitch to get off in the morning.

there was a knock at the door and you said, "relax, lando." before you took one last deep breath before you turned away from the mirror and headed out of the bedroom. lando's smile dropped at the sight of you. before he could say anything you said, "why did you pick orange. i look bad in orange."

lando picked his jaw up off the floor and went to you, a slight sway to his step as he closed the gap between you two. he rested his hands on your hips while you crossed your arms. he looked at you and smiled with those dazzling teeth of his. he said, "well because of mclaren."

"right, right. and it has nothing to do with the dutch at all." you get his gaze leveled with him. and his smile only grew.

"a coincidence." he said, heat in his tone, "you're just over thinking things. you know i don't like it when you think too much." his words made you run painfully hot. you had to give lando credit, he knew exactly how to get under your skin. he loved when you were stupid, dumb enough for him.

you made a face and he pulled you in for a hot kiss, one hand on the back of your neck. you squirmed against him and clung to the front of his t-shirt. the kiss was hot. it was heated in a way that you never had with anyone else. since you met lando, fucking other men bored you. you weren't a couple, this wasn't a relationship. this was mutually assured destruction as you pulled away from him.

"i was expecting worse from you. orange lingerie and a temporary tattoo, that seems tame for you." you remarked as you played with one of the straps of the bra. you could name on one hand all of the intense situations that lando had put you in.

from sex in a car that didn't have tinted windows on a side street in italy, to the time you went to the sex club in switzerland, and especially that time you has dinner with his family while there was a vibrator slipped into your aching cunt.

he tilted his head to the side and shrugged, "as much as i love torturing you, babygirl. i thought we'd keep it close to home, close together. as much as i would've loved to fuck you with the bed hitting the wall to your brother's room, i thought this was better." he cupped your breasts.

you groaned, "enough about my brother." you were soon pulled into the bedroom. lando had enough kindness left in him to fuck you on a mattress. there had been times you were left with rug burns in places where there should never be rug burns.

you got into the king sized bed and looked at him as he started to undress. your rubbed your thighs together and braced yourself on your arms. your body was so exposed to him. you knew he was hungry for you. just like he was hungry for the prize.

"fuck." he groaned, his cock was painfully hard. the tip a deep red and leaking thick pre-cum. his face more pink than usual as he got into the bed with you and rubbed his cock up against your thigh. the kisses grew hotter as you ended up on your stomach and totally nude. you could already feel the rush of pleasure throughout your body.

"lando." you groaned, "it's not fair that you can fuck this good. you deserve to suck at sex." your back arched a little further and lando smacked your ass.

"i love when you just shut up, beautiful. you're meant to sit there be pretty. guess that's why your brother looks that way, you took all the good looks. but because of that, you need to learn to shut the fuck up." he groaned as he rubbed his achy cock up against your ass, "seen, not heard." it was all dirty talk and it made you brain spark with pleasure. he had such a grip on you, he could degrade you every way and you'd still let him fuck you.

"fuck you, lando." you groaned. you tensed up as he slammed his cock into you. not caring about takin ghis time. you needed to be fucked right now. fuck some sense into you. your little yapping mouth needed to be quiet for a while. just while lando was feeling the high of his win.

you shuddered, "fuck. lando." your hips were raised more as lando pressed more of his weight against you. his cock filled you in a painful way when he took little time to prep you. tonight was his night, he didn't have to prep you.

he hissed through a tense jaw as he fucked you with little abandon. the bed shifted under you from the force he was fucking you with. he felt something heavy in his chest, he felt the sexual pull towards you. he needed you deeply, carnally. he needed to ruin you for any other man. maybe it was a possessive drive, but it kept him coming back for you.

"if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family." he choked out, he could feel the hammering in his head as he rutted against you.

"shut the fuck up." you groaned as you gripped the pillows under your face. you clawed into the fabric and groaned, "shut up, shut up, shut up!" you wanted to throw the pillow at him.

it only spurred lando on as he fucked you with heavy thrusts. he eventually grabbed you by the arms and pulled them back using it as a way to bounce you on his achy cock. you whined a little louder as he said, "maybe i should get you pregnant. finish in your tonight, make a big fuckin' mess between your legs and ship you back to your dear, older brother. then a month passes and you have to tell him that you're pregnant. he's going to lose it." he pulled you against him tighter as his cock remained buried inside of you. your cunt was nice around his cock and it made him feel amazing all over.

"shit no." you whined.

lando laughed, "oh c'mon, be my wife? how does that sound, steal you from right under you brother's nose. he'd never know what hit him." his pace became quicker and you were seeing stars. reason left your brain and your core throbbed.

you whimpered and lando continued his rapid movements. there was little space for you to breath during his thrusts. you felt your heart in your throat as he fucked the words out of your head. you whimpered and whined. your noises were music to his ears.

"lemme make you a mama, beautiful. let me get you nice and pregnant." his words curled in your brain and you were left feeling on cloud nine, "you'd raise 'em so well. be such a good mother to them." his voice grew tight as the need to finish grew.

he fucked you, letting your arms drop in favor of your hips. the soft part of you that he loved the bruise. he bullied his cock into your achy pussy. the idea of getting you pregnant made him move against you faster. he could feel the race in his pulse as he fucked you. you with all the aches and pains of pregnancy, carrying his child. he only turned him on greatly. make you his.

you came first, your body betrayed you. you arched your back and near-yelled into the pillows. you hissed, "fuck!" lando continued his brutal pace. he fucked you with a fever that made your eyes roll back a little. there was no escaping lando norris.

"that's it, angel. that's it." he said with near-softness as he rocked his hips against you. he fucked you and then he finished inside of you, even tilted your hips at an angle that made sure it would stay inside of you. you whined a little as he pulled out. he gave your ass one last slap. you were near brain dead on the bed and your breathing was heavy. lando watched you, laid beside you with his hand on your left ass cheek. when you eventually fell asleep, you were curled up on your side and didn't notice when lando shifted in the bed and got out. if his phone wasn't on silent you would've hear the shudder of the camera on his phone.

he sent a photo of your face pressed against the pillows, he wasn't sending your nudes to your brother (your brother's teammate on the other hand). he sent the message to max, "better luck next time, mate. will bring her back before breakfast ;)" <3

[llatimeria]

I feel so resolved right now bc I've been getting a little frustrated with the Instagram reels I've been seeing that's mostly het women complaining about how their husbands don't share the mental load of housework - which is absolutely justified, ofc. everyone needs to partake in taking care of the home as close to equally as is reasonable.

the thing is this mostly takes the form of people making fun of how their husbands say things like "Yeah sure I'll share the load :) Just make me a list!:) just tell me what to do! :)" when that's kind of defeating the purpose -- if your partner's making lists of chores for you, you're still basically offloading a ton of mental effort onto them, which doesn't actually help the problem.

however I know from experience that I am that husband lol. and I'm sure a lot of these men are just kind of inconsiderate, but from my perspective as a disabled neurodivergent person, I reflexively try to offload things like Making Lists or Asking To Be Told What To Do onto my (overstressed, often panicking) partner because I'm scared that if I make decisions about what I need to do, I'll focus on something my partner didn't even have on their radar and waste all my energy "fixing" something which they didn't consider broken, leaving me with nothing to help solve the problems they actually care about.

I'm not trying to be a dick or deliberately being lazy, I just need to know what's bothering them the most so I can start there instead of starting on a random side quest that doesn't matter to either of us. considering how many of these people I've run into are in nd4nd relationships, I'm pretty sure I can't be the only "inconsiderate husband" out there who's having this feeling, and it's a little frustrating to see it being completely attributed to a moral failing and not, like, a possible symptom of their partner's own mental health issues. (like we definitely can't pretend like misogyny never plays a part in the Just Make Me A List type of behavior, but I know relatively certainly that is not where it's originating from in my own personal relationship, and I'm not that unique)

just when I was about to just make a kind of grumpy post about this problem and offer absolutely no solutions, I fuckin run into a reel where someone actually tells people how to bridge the gap between offloading mental effort and actually knowing what your partner wants you to do- literally just. offer a couple of observations to them instead of hoping they'll do everything for you. ie - instead of "just tell me what to do!!", say "I see the dishes have to be done and the trash has to be taken out, so I was gonna do the dishes then take out the trash, unless there was something else that needs my focus first". this tells your partner that you are taking on some of the mental burden, but still offers them the opportunity to point you in the right direction if you're WAY off.

it just makes so much fucking sense and I never would've thought of doing that on my own. genuinely an extremely useful video to just algorithmically be provided to me. it's actionable advice instead of just telling people "share the loaaaddd" without providing the scaffolding someone needs to do that when theyre unused to it (whether that be due to neurodivergency or growing up as a guy in a misogynistic society).

and its just like. God damn it. this is bullshit. I can't believe the stupid camera app is helping me in real ways. maybe the mental health gurus and internet therapists have a goddamn point sometimes. fucking hell

[catgirlredux]

Yeah, 6 tons of fully battle-ready steel, you’d think every mother’s son would be lined up to pilot one, right? I mean hell, if I didn’t know better I’d wanna get in one myself. But all that might is a red herring, it’s all a big misdirect. The egotistical ones, the ones who get a big head about piloting a kinesosuit, never do well.

For them it’s all about power. They think it’s like a video game, where you pull a joystick and kill a million people. But you can’t really control a HAK any more than you can stop the Doors from closing.

A good HAK operates like a marriage - you ever been married? Hah, good, it’ll only let you down. A HAK will listen to you if you let it make decisions: you can’t move its arm, but you can tell it where to go if you let it take the incentive in combat. A free wife is a happy wife, you feel? Just so happens your wife is a robot with enough ammunition to level a city.

That’s why the headstrong pilots never EVER do well. Fighting against a machine is one thing, but when the machine is plugged directly into your brainstem and trying to sync itself to your thoughts… You might think you’re strong enough but you aren’t. I’ve never gotten more than 14 months of service out of a pilot like that before their brains melted to force-pacified mush. Only thing they’re good for at that point is engineer work in the hangar.

Frankly, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that’s the reason all our recruiting media is targeted towards real fuckin losers. Abused, shivering jobless kids with no prospects and no idea about the future, folks who got stood up one time too many or are just plain useless - they want nothing more than to surrender their minds to a big ass suit of armor. The HAKs like it too.

That being said, you’re doing pretty damn good now, huh?

[iwritefandomimagines]

NOT A GAME — JESS MARIANO

based on a request

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: the playful banter was fun at first, but the line had blurred so long ago that you were starting to get sick of wondering how jess really felt. luckily for you, he’s been thinking the same thing.

warnings: angst into fluff, jess being annoying in a way that makes me love him more lol, swearing ofc,

author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i hope it does jess justice for you— i love writing him so much. i hope you enjoy — sorry it’s quite short i just wanted to keep it short n sweet

———

“Well that’s two hours of my life I’m never getting back, huh,” Jess took a final sip of the drink he’d been cradling for the whole film and threw it dramatically in the trash, his arm slung around your shoulder, “Think I aged like fifteen years in the time they took to wrap up that fuckin’ terrible plot.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him and discarding your own empty cup as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and eyed you curiously, “What, don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you shrugged, “You’re just being pretentious.”

His brows furrowed at that — he hated when you of all people called him pretentious, and he knew you only ever did it to wind him up.

“Okay, what have I done?” Jess huffed, “You so didn’t enjoy that film, you’re just trying to piss me off. What did I do?”

You looked down at your feet with a grunt, “Nothing.”

“Despite my sweet baby face, I wasn’t born yesterday Y/N. It’s not nothing.”

The truth was that he had done something.

In fact, he was always doing the exact thing that had just tipped you over the edge.

“Fine, Jess,” you drew in a sharp breath, “I just— I don’t want to play this game anymore.”

“Have I missed something or was that movie just so dull that it corroded your brain?” Jess kicked a stone as he watched the frown on your face, “‘Cause I don’t remember playing any games. Not even footsie. What are you talking about?”

You scoffed, “That, Jess. Exactly that!”

“Woah, woah, c’mon Y/N. You’re going to have to give me more than just snapping at me. What the hell have I done?” Jess was growing increasingly frustrated now, but so were you.

You pressed a palm to your forehead, “I’m— What was that in there?”

“I was asking the same question,” Jess’ perplexed expression made your own angered one soften a little.

“What is this? Me and you?” you looked down at the floor as you posed this question, not wanting to argue any longer and too afraid wanting to see his reaction, “Because I’m sick of playing games and not knowing. You put your arm around me at the cinema, you share your popcorn with me when you’d like—literally snarl at anyone else if they asked, we kind of flirt like all of the time but we’re just friends.”

“Just friends, huh?”

You almost felt silly when you looked up at him and saw a smug smile on his face — almost.

But you were trying to open up to him and he was being just as irritating about your relationship as he always was.

“Jess…”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, taking your hand and pulling you around the corner to a park bench where he tugged you to sit down beside him.

“Do you seriously think we’re just friends, Y/N?” he was so close to you that you were sure he could hear your heart palpitations and see the goosebumps springing up on your skin.

“Well we’re not enemies, we spent a fuck ton of time together, and we’re not dating. So yeah, I’d like to think we’re friends,” you huffed, still avoiding his gaze.

He shook his head, “Why the hell do you think I invited you to see a fuckin’ romcom I’d never want to watch? Why do you think I asked to share popcorn? I know I’m the intellectually superior one here,” he paused to nudge your side as if to ensure you understood he was teasing, “But I didn’t think you were dumb enough to miss that I was obviously trying to make this a date.”

You bit your lip, finally returning his eye contact as his soft eyes stared intently into yours.

You drew in another deep breath, “Sure. Jess Mariano, Mr. Always Speaks His Mind, failed to tell me it was apparently a date so I’m dumb for not reading his mind?”

Neither of you had noticed that he was still holding your hand until that moment, and so he pulled it to the corner of his mouth and gave the back of your hand a gentle kiss.

Despite the unfamiliarity of this small but romantic gesture, your heart swelled in your chest and it almost felt natural.

“Y/N, I’ve liked you for fuckin’ ages. Everyone knows that. We flirt and we act like there’s nothing going on when people ask, but I thought at the very least you knew how I really felt,” Jess shrugged, not releasing your hand and instead now rubbing his thumb over the back of it.

You didn’t retreat from his touch, but used your interlocked hands to shove his chest gently, “You’re an asshole, you know that right?”

The small smile tugging at your lips eased the anxiety that had begun to set in. He’d almost started to fear that you didn’t actually feel the same, but your unsteady breathing and the glint in your eye confirmed the opposite.

“I know, I know,” he rolled his eyes, “But that’s all just part of the elusive charm that made you fall madly in love with me, isn’t it?”

You shook your head, “Cocky, aren’t you?”

“Well in my defence, the prettiest girl in Stars Hollow has, like, totally got the hots for me,” your heart fluttered at the smirk still gracing his features, “Hard not to have an ego.”

You just chuckled softly in reply, your heartbeat still racing as he watched you carefully. His own gaze softened now, and he reached his free hand up to cup your cheek.

“Look, in all seriousness I’m sorry this has been so— well, just that I haven’t been more direct about this stuff. But you know me, you know I’m bad at—,”

You squeezed the hand that was still in yours, “I know, Jess. It’s alright. I really like you, and to be honest I’ve been happy enough with any excuse to be close to you.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, leaning forward a little, “Can I kiss you, then? Make up for a shitty first date?”

You blushed crimson at the fact he’d asked, your cheek growing hot beneath his touch, “Of course.”

His lips met yours gently, as though testing the waters. You met his kiss with the same softness at first, but quickly the kiss grew more urgent — as though making up for lost time.

When you finally pulled away, your face was still bright red, and you felt almost embarrassed by how overcome with emotions you were.

“So, uh, about the film?”

He laughed, the loud affectionate laugh he reserved only for you, warming your heart as he sent you a teasing grin and licked his lips.

“And here I was thinking I’d be the one to ruin the moment, huh?”

———

thanks sooo much for reading — i hope this was okay! sorry for the radio silence for a while, i’ve had a lot going on and a LOT of unfinished drafts.

if you wanna read more of my stuff — here’s my masterlist!

[matchadobo]

KIDD; kiss-proof lipstick review

warning/s: very fluff, fem reader, youtuber/streamer!kidd, shy!s/o, modern au, most nsfw thing could happen is an abrupt makeout

note: based from this -> post, smaller italicized texts are sub-bullets

kidd as a youtuber that normally does metal covers with his band (heat, killer, and wire)

has about a solid following of 100k subs bc they're just so cool

that is until his viewers asked for his makeup tut bc he always looks so bomb

his viewers have also requested fit checks like what he wears in a week

kidd forgot to mention that he has a s/o, which mildly upset a certain demographic who was ahem thirsty for him

you as his gf doesn't really mind if he talks to himself in front of his phone or camera on random times, but he always tells you a quick warning beforehand bc you sometimes appear on the bg of his vids/streamer

i also think that at some point, kidd does game streams bc he's lazy to edit. his fanbase supports any content he does whether it's just yap streams or food streams or band rehearsals

i feel like he always aims for competitive games that are pvp like MK, COD, league, etc. it just feeds his ego, and he enjoys trashtalking 😭 riling his opponent up and all that

it's all so funny, which explains his fanbase that tolerates his insufferable temper and jokes. it takes a certain kind of humor that other people might take as offensive

but the second he got sponsored by a punk make-up line, a pr box arrived at his doorstep bc he rarely checks his emails

he'd ask you to do a makeup stream with him, but you were too shy about it. especially after being the final boss of a certain demographic that is attracted to him 😭 but you never told him that. knowing him, he'll probably flip all of them off and cause drama

he'd start up stream, poorly introducing the products. you laughed to yourself at how bad he was at complimenting or kissing ass to the brand he legit has never heard of😭

kidd knows how to apply his makeup; shadow, liner, and lipstick. he tried on a purple and red shadow combo and his usual full eye liner.

his stream at that point became very chill, his fans loving every bit of his craft and how focused he was doing everything. especially at how he looked like afterward

"now we got- kiss-proof lipstick? they sent me a shit ton of fuckin' shades!" he showed a whole box of liquid lipsticks. laughing at the ridiculous amount.

his fanbase requested a test of the kiss proof on his palm, showing interest in the product

but kidd had different ideas. it might be a good way to hard launch you already.

his ig and twt already had pictures of you during dates, but your face was always hidden most of the time

"a test on my palm? oh boy, i have a better idea for that."

he'd call you, "babe! baby! c'mere a moment, i need ya a bit."

his chat would go: "babe?!?! omg hard launch?!", "omg here is his s/o!", "OH GOD KIDD YOU SLICK CHEEKY FUCK!"

you'd be scared for a bit, but kidd looked really excited. besides you also want to check out his makeup products.

"are we gonna do it together?" you muttered lowly, referring to the review

"kinda." he shrugged. "i just got one lil job for you, you'd love it promise."

you were skeptical at first but oh well. kidd lets you pick the lipstick of your choice, which was a bright red. it always looks good on him.

the chat was highkey going crazy when your body from neck below was showing

they also noticed how kidd started acting differently, he spoke softly and he had this meek smile while looking up at you

he lets you apply it on him. you were now seating with the seat he pulled to let you down. the chat now being able to see you. you waved a hi shyly, and man the view count started going up

twt was already full of you guys 😖

kidd then fanned his lips, waiting for the product to dry.

"ok, what's next?" you asked, popping the lid close

"this." he grabbed the back of your head and kissed you on stream. holding the kiss pretty good in there, smirking through it as he did so, before sucking on your lips open

you were too flustered and frozen but he even had the audacity to angle his head the other way to continue kissing you

it was pretty fucking lewd, he was really getting in there

but you, you melted from his lips and his firm grip on your nape

the chat and stream lagged at the amount of chats and view counts increasing exponentially

once he pulled away after a good 2 minutes, he turned to the screen and said, "so? it really is kiss proof, aye?" he bursted out laughing at your reaction which was the same when he started kissing you 🤣

the chat also went hysterical, both from freaking out with the both of you and your reaction

you honestly didn't mind, you half expected it. it's kidd we're talking about🤣 because kidd did it as a flex and as a fuck you to his haters (especially those who were targeting you)

you had to excuse yourself which resulted to even more comedic response from kidd at how cute you are. you were burning red btw

you later come back to tell kidd and chat that you're okay, and you plan to get back on him for that

JASDHSAJDJSAJDSA I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! JUST DID THIS LAST NIGHT

[jeffgerstmann]

why should I care that the ccp is collecting my data?

If we exclude the concept that TikTok could be accessing data on your phone that it isn't supposed to get without permission (contact data, health data, whatever) I think there's a lot of triangulation that could be done to narrow down your data to something very individual, right? Like, for example, your location data could be matched with your content to figure out things like "oh, you're recording this in front of a military base, now we can cross-reference that with what we already know about this nation's military capability" and so on.

I don't think most people operate in any sensitive areas when posting to tiktok, so that's kind of whatever, but... I don't know, maybe soldiers shouldn't use tiktok while on a military base or something. At least that's the best I can do when trying to come up with a specific reason here.

For me the catch is hey, sure, yeah, I don't want Bytedance to have a ton of personal data on me. But also I don't want fucking Facebook, Google, Amazon, Yahoo!, Ask Jeeves, RaytheonKidz.biz, or the United States fuckin' Government to have any of that data, either! Biden just issued an executive order this morning about personal data falling into the hands of "countries of concern" and motherfucker I'm like YEAH LIKE THE US OF FUCKIN' A, MAYBE? THE ONE I'M MOST CONCERNED ABOUT?

Like I don't want China or Russia getting their hands on a bunch of information about me, but in a world where US-based politicians are already attacking medical procedures and science to make things like gender-affirming care and abortion illegal, all that location data and content could have some very scary uses down the line. And that crackdown won't come from fucking China.

[green-alien-turdz]

Hi, I know its been a minute n I don't really like that there is like one or two posts between this n my last 'i'm still alive' post. I'm sorry. I wanted to say thank you to everyone in general, but also the mfs who said some nice ass shit to me. Sorry I said some concernin ass shit n just dipped, that was pretty fucked. I never really had people care like all the people on here, so I ain't too used to havin to be more careful with the shit I do n say.

Thank you to everyone for the kind words, concern, n care. Comin back to see all of it made my fuckin heart melt. I know I'm just some dumbass postin south park shit on tumblr, but you guys are genuinely the most amazin mfs I've ever encountered. To the people who were in my inbox askin if I was still alive, I sincerely apologize for causin any stress or concern, it's not my intention. You guys are the sweetest people, and I'm sorry for doin that. I should prolly stop bein as vocal about bein so fucked, but I also like to be honest n I like sharin this shit bcuz I know mfs be goin through the same shit n bein alone in it feels fuckin awful majority of the time.

I am not well. I am doin very bad actually. There's a chance imma be forcefully medicated in the near future. Which is weird bcuz I used to always want that, I wanted to be fixed, but now I'm not sure for like a TON of reasons. One, ion wanna be changed (in a sense). If the meds take away or dull core aspects of myself, I will lose it further than I have already. Two, my parents raised me to never trust doctors or medicine, etc. Even though I do think modern medicine is a great thing, I still have my fears bcuz of how I was raised. Three, I fear the fuck outta what I will do. I know they warn that adjustment periods n shit like that can make things worse- but I literally cannot get any worse. If I do, I know I will not come out alive. Which bleeds into reason four, which is that I know, at some point, I would try n overdose. Handin me such a quick n thoughtless way to just end it is like the worst fuckin thing they could do. But whatever. Ion even know when it's gonna happen, all I know is that ion got a choice. Like, I'm pretty sure it's a situation that, if I don't comply, imma be locked tf up.

Uhh minor update shit- my cat came back home after almost a month of bein fuckin somewhere. She came back skinny, dirty, n sick, but she is slowly recoverin n I've never been more thankful. ED is still kickin my ass, but I'm forcin myself to at least have a fuckin soup I made bcuz I can't get shit done at work if I keep faintin or gettin injured. I have little to no time to do shitfuck, but still do random shit periodically before or after work. I actually redid my dresser n made some stupid ass video about the handles that I might post to youtube if I quit bein a pussy about it.

I haven't been drawin my fanart as of late- but I do want to. Imma focus on doin the requests I have bcuz I wanna give back the best I can. You guys stick with me through thick n thin. I thank you all so much. I'm sorry I'm always MIA. So my posts for a little bit are gonna be the requests n answerin all of my inbox. Ion know how long it'll take, but hopefully it won't get borin. I genuinely love makin things. I love drawin the shit I do n people findin some sort of connection to their lives or themselves. I just want people to feel less alone, less ugly, less whatever the fuck you feel. Each n every one of ya is fuckin amazin, so please don't forget it.

Imma stfu now. But I hope you guys have a good rest of your day or night or eternity. I'll be back to postin shortly, thank you for stickin with this shit show

[left4gospels]

“UNTOUCHABLE”

Short story

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(Drawing by me, I hated the full version but i liked how I drew Ellis so this is what you get.)

First time writing something and posting it publicly so uh i hope you guys like it. Was just an idea I had. I dont like this it could be better.

TW: Death, violence, Keith is sort of a douche, mid story.

╔══•●•══╗

“Ellis and his best buddy Keith were driving on the road, heading to the nearest evacuation station with no idea what would happen to them. With rumors of an apocalypse, neither of them were taking it seriously. Keith always had that invincible energy that nothing could touch either of them when they were together, so why would Ellis doubt him? They were fine, everything would work out in the end.

That is, until they run out of gas. Then everything starts to get a little too serious for Ellis.”

╚══•●•══╝

The chevy sped down the empty backroad, gravel crunching under the tires and trees blurring by. Ellis kept one hand on the wheel and the other draped over the shifter, his fingers tapping to the rhythm of ‘Don't fear the reaper’. Keith sat in the passenger seat, his worn boots propped up on the dash like he owned the damn thing, tearing into a stick of jerky he randomly found in his pocket. They’d taken one of the many backroads of Georgia to avoid the crowd towards the evacuation station– a hotel Ellis hadn’t been to since he was a kid– leaving the road clear for him to step on the gas.

“Man, this don’t feel real, does it?” Keith said, his mouth half-full, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk as he looked out the window. Ellis turned down the radio to hear him. “Remember that ramp off of White Bluff? I was drivin’, and I hit that shit goin’ like 120! Dave nearly shit his fuckin’ pants. You puked all over my dash, I was fuckin’ pissed.”

Ellis glanced at him, laughing at the memory. “Dude I know! I was just thinkin’ about that! Oh man, that was so funny. I’d do it again, ‘except last time we weren’t dodgin’ zombies n’ shit.”

“Hey, we ain’t seen no zombies yet? If we do, just run them fuckers over. Nothin’ but a speed bump.” Keith grinned, the kind of grin that made him look like a kid trying to get away with something. It was that grin that normally got Ellis into trouble. Keith had a way of turning bad ideas into brilliant ones, and Ellis had a bad habit of going along with them. Like the time Keith got it in his head to make homemade fireworks, or the bumper cars, or the gators. Keith always liked the thrill of having one foot in the grave.

Even when Keith’s ideas blew up in their faces—literally, in the case of the fireworks—Ellis always trusted him. Keith just had this way about him, this dumb kinda confidence that made you believe nothing could ever touch you in his presence. And until that day, Ellis believed him.

“Man, that would be so cool. Use em’ as a ramp, oh– like the Dukes of hazzard!” Ellis cheered with a gleaming smile, both of them laughing.

“Just the good ol’ boys…” Keith sang the tune to the opening. “That used to come on every mornin’ after the news. You remember as a kid, playin’ as them? Man, we were stupid. I’d watch it again though.”

Ellis smiled and swallowed hard, his throat suddenly tight. He didn’t want to think about the news– how all those people died in Macon, or how they might never see another tv show again. Now that the evacuation was mandatory, it all seemed different. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. Ellis didn’t like to think about shit like that. So he avoided those thoughts for as long as he could.

“Y’think this hotel’s gonna be as fancy as it used to be? Hell, I ain’t been to The Vannah in a fuckin’ dogs age. Last time I was there, I think I was with Cindy,” Keith asked, breaking the silence. “That bitch that left me at the tunnel of’ love'?”

“Ha! Yeah, I remember that.” Ellis snorted, adjusting his hat. Who’s he kidding? They’re gonna be fine. “Oughta be paradise with all this shit goin’ on. Bet there’s gonna be a shit ton a’ people. Hope they ain’t zombies like on the TV.”

Keith laughed, that wheezy, half-choked sound that always got Ellis laughing too, and for a moment, the world didn’t seem so bad. “Pft, I wasn't payin’ attention to that. That news lady they got on channel 7 is a fine piece, I can tell ya that.”

Then the fuel light dinged, Ellis groaned. They should’ve fueled up before, but everyone was in such a rush to leave, they figured they might as well be too.

“Goddamn, already outta gas,” he muttered, hitting his steering wheel. “This is some bullshit. I told you we should’a gassed ‘er up.”

The gas station came into view a mile or so down the road, a lonely convenience store from when people worried about gas prices and not whether they’d live long enough to pay for it. Ellis pulled the truck into the lot, the tires crunching over broken glass and debris.

“Where the hell are the people? They already left? Man, I better not get a flat from all this glass, I'm serious.” Ellis said, shaking his head as he turned into one of the pumps.

“Shit, this place looks like a scene outta a horror movie,” Keith said, leaning out the window to get a better look. “Betcha there’s bodies in the back.”

“Shut up,” Ellis grinned, slapping him on the shoulder. “Ain’t funny.” He said, despite his smile.

He killed the engine and stepped out, the heat slamming into him like a wall. Goddamn the Georgia heat was relentless. It was quiet. No birds, no wind, just the sound of his boots on the pavement as he walked to the pump. He glanced around—two empty cars, both with busted windows, but not a soul in sight. I mean damn, he didn’t think it would be all peaches and cream, but he definitely didn’t expect nothing like this.

“Hey, you think they got snacks inside?” Keith called from the truck, stepping out and shutting the door.

Ellis smiled and looked over his shoulder, Keith’s words distracting him from reality– like they always did. “Oh, that’s a good idea right there. Man, I could go for a slurpee– or a beer.” He shook his head. “You think they make beer slurpees?”

Keith didn’t answer, and Ellis figured he ran off somewhere to find some food. He was silently wondering if he still had to pay or not, gripping the pump handle, his fingers trembling just a little. He hated how quiet it was. Hated how weird this whole thing felt. He started getting wrapped up in his head again, something he never does. Maybe this whole flu thing was a bigger deal than he thought.

“El,” Keith called again, catching Ellis’s attention.“You see that?”

Ellis turned, following Keith’s gaze to the corner of the lot. A shadow darted between two cars, quick and low, like an animal.

“Prolly just a dog or some shit,” Ellis said, though he didn’t believe it himself. Just ignore it, he told himself, get the gas and go.

Keith snorted. “Yeah, a dog the size of a goddamn linebacker.”

Ellis laughed at that, setting the pump back in its cradle and turned toward the truck. “C’mon, we’re leavin’. Not a man here, so I ain’t payin’. And I sure as hell ain’t killin’ no dog.”

But Keith wasn’t in the truck. He was a good twenty feet away, crouched beside an overturned box, squinting at something on the ground.

“What'd ya find? Hurry your ass up, man.” Ellis smiled, approaching him. Ellis usually didn’t mind the way Keith treated all this like it was just another story they’d laugh about later, it kept his mind from wandering to the parts of this whole mess he wasn’t ready to think about. He didn’t know if he ever would be. Now, Ellis was starting to get a little worried. But he’d never let Keith know that.

Keith looked up, grinning like an idiot, waving the yellow cylinder in the air. “Found me a box of Twinkies! They ain’t even opened!”

“Awh, yeah! Get some and let’s go man, cmon. Move your ass.” Ellis said, beckoning him with a little more insistence in his words. The hairs on his neck stood up, watching as Keith shoved a couple more in his pocket.

“Alright alright. Damn, don’t get your panties in a twist–”

And then it happened.

The “dog” from before launched itself at Keith, moving faster than Ellis blink. Keith barely had time to scream before the thing was on him, its claws ripping into his chest, its weight slamming him to the ground. This wasn’t a dog, this was a human– or it was at one point– as wild as an animal

“Keith!” Ellis yelled, his voice cracking, pulse skyrocketing. “Holy shit!”

The thing snarled with gritted teeth, blood already dripping from its mouth from God knows what. Keith thrashed and yelled, using all the force he could to push the thing off, but it was no use. It’s hands– almost clawed, tore into Keith's ribs, jabbing into his organs again and again and again. This thing wasn’t like the zombies in movies. It wasn’t looking for brains or running on hunger– it was looking to kill.

Ellis grabbed the crowbar he kept in bed of his truck and ran, his legs moving on instinct. The first hit connected with a sickening crunch, sending blood and bits of bone flying. The Hunter reeled, its claws twitching, but Ellis didn't stop. He brought the crowbar down against its skill– feeling every hit– until the thing was a lifeless heap of infected flesh on the ground. Ellis stared in disbelief for a second, panting with burning lungs, before he heard a babbling cough beneath him.

“Keith!” Ellis gasped, forgetting the crowbar and dropping to his knees beside him. Blood pooled on the asphalt under Keith's body– his shirt and flesh shredded to pieces. Keith’s eyes were wide, his chest heaving, blood pouring from the gaping wound in his side, coughing up more of the red liquid from all the internal damage. Ellis reckoned it must’ve hurt something fierce, but the sheer shock and adrenaline must’ve kept Keith from feeling a thing.

“Ellis,” he choked out, his voice weak, looking down at himself in complete disbelief. “Holy fuck, man– holy fuck!” He repeated, his mouth gaping open in surprise. “What the fuck was that thing?!”

“Shit!” Ellis yells, shaking his head. “Holy shit, man! No, it's alright. You’re always fine. Remember the fireworks? The gator?” He tried to chuckle, but it just came out as a choked sob. “Keith, c’mon man, get up! You’re alright…”

Keith tried to smile weakly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Man, this ain’t the same, Ellis! I’m all– I'm everywhere…” The corners of his lips turned downwards. His hands trembled as he attempted to sit up, he couldn’t seem to look at anything but his organs pooling out of his body. Keith gurgled, more blood rising from his throat and out of his teeth. His breath was ragged and thick, the thing must’ve hit one of his lungs.

Pressing his palms to the wound, Ellis tried to stop the red stream from spurting out as best he could, but it only stained the back of his hands. Keith began to choke, and cough out another gush of blood onto his shirt. His wide eyes settled onto Ellis’s face, tears streaming slowly down them. Keith never cried.

“I think I'm gonna die, man…” He whispered, voice quivering as his hand reached for Ellis, fingers weakly gripping his shirt. “That thing knocked the life outta me.”

“No,” Ellis whispered, his voice breaking, shaking his head in denial. “Shut up, man. No, no, no. No, man you’re not gonna die.” He pleaded, silently praying, repenting for every sin they’ve ever committed. Not Keith man, he couldn’t lose his best buddy.

“Shit, Ellis man.. I don’t wanna die…” Keith said, his panicked voice dropping low, words slurring. “I’m– You’re my best friend, man…” His eyes grew big for a few seconds, so full of fear, looking up to the sky at something Ellis couldn’t see. Ellis shook his head, his lips beginning to move, begging for him to keep holding on. Begging for God not to do this to either of them. Keith took a few more ragged breaths, and one last sticky heave, before his eyes shut. His body went slack, head lolling to the side.

“KEITH!” Ellis yelled, shaking him now. “No, no no no. Man, c’mon man!” He said, gripping hard on his shoulders. It was then when he realised he was crying himself. Keith was dead. Keith just died in front of him, in his arms. “Shit!”

Ellis abruptly stumbled to his feet, sticky with his best friend's blood. He studied his muddy hands, palms up, palms down. He could feel his pulse in the tips of his fingers, his hands sore from gripping the crowbar so hard. Staring at Keith and the zombie's lifeless body, a numbing despair settled over him. It all happened so fast… so fuckin’ fast.

He had to get out of here.

Ellis climbed into the driver’s seat, fumbling with the keys and staring at his hands. He found a grease rag in the compartment of his truck, desperately scrubbing his best friend’s DNA off his skin, though it didn’t do much but dry them. His blood was in the beds of his fingernails. He started the engine and pulled onto the road, hands trembling on the wheel. He didn’t look in the mirror, he didn’t dare look back.

He was going to the evac station– he’ll meet Keith there.

Keith wasn’t dead. That wasn’t his body dying in Ellis’s arms. He was back in the truck, laughing about Twinkies or pools or something stupid. Or better yet, somewhere at home with a beer and a shotgun, safe as can be. Yeah. He’s alright.

Keith was fine. Ellis never saw anyone die.

He had never seen a zombie before.

Nothing could ever touch him.

✟ ✟ ✟

[tainted-liquor]

'La Princesa De Mi Corazon⋆˙⟡♡

E42!Miles Morales x Daddy's Girl!BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles ! TWs: Cursing, realistic teenage dates (he didn't spend no 5k cmon now) W/C: 2.4k A/N: This can be read as an autistic reader if u squint rllly hard ! Another lovely request I got!! Enjoy luvs

For as long as you can remember, you've never actually been told the word "no" by your father. When your mother didn't wanna get something for you, you'd just ask your dad! Since you were the youngest and first daughter in your parent's long line of sons, with you having 4 older brothers, there were times when you didn't even have to ask, it was just yours before you could even think about it. Clothes, phones, shoes, makeup, perfume, all of it was yours. You were a daddy's money girl, with everything in the world right at your fingertips. So naturally, you tended to avoid serious relationships with boys due to your insanely high standards that had been curated since birth. Until you met him, Miles.

Miles was the complete opposite of you and your aesthetic. Where you were giddy and childish, he was serious and mature. You possessed everything under the sun in the shade of pink, where he barely had anything besides black and purples in his closet. Originally he didn't fuckin' like you, like, at all. He thought you were a 'spoiled air-headed dressed up money drowned bimbo' due to his experience in 'working' with rich people. They all seemed to act the same way and wanted the exact same thing, money or power.

But that view dropped immediately when he saw you interact with others. You weren't rude, you definitely weren't stupid, and you were the kindest most giving person he had ever seen before. People all in your circle constantly praised you for how sisterly you were, handing out gifts and words of wisdom like candy. Your only 'flaw' was your ignorance, living blind to the world around you due to being so heavily protected by your father. Sure, there was crime everywhere and New York was a walking murderhouse, but you didn't know that!

You were casually talking to one of your best friends Brenna when you bumped into someone, knocking you straight on your ass and causing him to stumble back a little. "I am so so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going!" you empathized as you picked yourself up and immediately offered to help the stranger. He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket as he spoke, his voice quiet and steady as he did. "Oh my bad, It's all good. Just be careful." You gave him a warm smile and a brief nod before setting off again, assuming that would be the last time you two spoke. And damn were you wrong.

The next time you'd see Miles, you were at the mall the following Saturday with a shit ton of bags in your hands. You practically skipped through the concourses of the mall, smiling and giggling with Brenna. You were in a brand new off-white dress and rounded the corner to see Miles waiting for a Cinnabon in line. As soon as you saw the blue and white logo of the bakery, and the smell of sweet sugar and baked goods kissed the tip of your nose, you stopped what you were doing and stood behind the familiar set of twin braids. "Hey, Miles!"

Miles looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening a fraction when he saw over 10 bags on each of your arms. "Yo…what's up with all your bags? You don't feel your circulation gettin' cut off?" he asked with a bewildered expression, "Damn, how much money you spent here?" he gawked. Truth is, you weren't sure. All your dad said was to have fun and he didn't necessarily…give you an amount to spend, he just handed you the card and told you the PIN. "I actually don't know. This has to be a minimum of 600 dollars, Daddy just kinda told me to have fun with it!" You shrugged like that was completely normal.

Miles stared for a minute, analyzing the 20 bags you had in total from various stores. he sighed with a small smirk, shaking his head in disbelief as you sort of merged with his spot in line. Neither of you realized, but you unknowingly recruited Miles in your shenanigans at the mall as soon as you both left the bakery with a series of sweets. You three set off to the nearby sneaker outlet, buying everyone a minimum of 4 pairs of sneakers to match every outfit they'd ever make. If Miles didn't know before, he knew now that you were the gift god when it came to generosity and Daddy's money.

His entire perspective of you changed that day, with you more actively talking his ear off and surprising him with random shit you got with your dad's credit card. He knew then and there that your standards were sky high and anyone who ever fell in love with you would be up for a bullfight ahead of them. He saw how your dad showered you with absolutely anything you asked for, with you even having a real-life princess crown from 2011 plated with morganite and rubies stationed in a plastic case on a high shelf in your room. But as he spent more time hanging out with you or spending time over at your house with your brothers, it hit him like a fucking truck. He knew whoever found themself head-over-heels for the pretty pink princess of her family would be in for a fucking hell of a time, he just never expected it to be HIM.

The day he realized he loved you was just like any other day, with you speeding up to him whenever you saw him. Your usual poofy dress skirt flows behind you like something out of a Disney animation. As soon as he knew to grab you so you didn't send the both of you falling to the ground, he felt a sudden warmth in his face. No, not you smushing your face against his as you gave him a spine-breaking hug, but a new kind of warmth that screamed danger. He suddenly became aware of your perfectly fitting style and the way each of the features on your face harmonized perfectly to create the perfection that is you.

Even though you came from completely different backgrounds, you never ONCE in your life dared say something about his situation. There were nights when he would just watch you as the prowler, skipping through his neighborhood like you didn't hear any of the gunshots, screams, explosions, or see anything wrong at all with where you currently were. It's not that you didn't notice, but you were completely aware that not everyone was as fortunate as you were, so you had no right to look at situations that weren't identical to yours any differently. And despite how "uppity" you looked on the surface, you truly thought of everyone as a new friend.

You, on the other hand, were crushing HARD. On some, you actively got quieter and sometimes just shut the fuck up entirely when Miles was nearby. You knew that you were probably making a mistake by genuinely loving someone so fully in this age of infidelity and communication issues, but you couldn't help it! He was just so pretty and listened to everything you had to say and he never once asked you for anything! Ever! You didn't know how Miles would behave in a relationship, but you damn sure weren't prepared for it.

When Miles asked you out on a date, you were a squealing mess. You threw on a pretty pink dress and quickly threw your goddess braids into a quick bun. When your dad watched as you eagerly checked your outfit in the mirror, he was a little taken aback when you told him that you were going on a date. He gave you a warm smile, telling you to be safe and if he tries anything that he'll blow his fuckin' top off. You laughed at him being so overprotective, calmly explaining to him that Miles wasn't like that at all.

You silently pondered where Miles was planning on taking you. You didn't want your first date to be all fancy, because that made them look like they were trying way too hard. But you also didn't wanna sit in some random diner, either…you didn't know what you wanted. All you did was hope that he paid attention to any of your conversations as you patiently waited on your velvety couch. You immediately perked up at the sound of the doorbell, flying to the door and waiting a couple of seconds before swinging it open.

"Mírate! La princesa de Nueva York! You love your dresses, huh?" He asked with a small smile, bracing himself as you dove straight into his arms. You giggled as you did a small little spin, showcasing the new silk dress. "I was debating on a different babydoll dress I have or this one. This one just felt more fitting!" you shrugged as you closed the front door behind the both of you. Miles had no idea what a babydoll dress was, but he made sure to let you know that you looked stunning in this seashell shade of pink. You follow closely behind Miles, loosely wrapping both of your arms around his left arm as you begin to break down the various types of dresses, and which one was your favorite.

"I didn't even know dresses had names…What's your favorite kind?" He asked with a small amused smile. Not only was this the first time someone had actively listened to you rant about your love of dresses, but he made an effort to even ask what your favorite one was? Lord, he was in for an earful. And he clung to every single word you said like it was the sweetest of melodies. When you finished your long-winded rant regarding pink flowy sundresses, he nodded with a bashful grin. "So a puff-sleeved peasant dress made of chiffon?"

You nodded eagerly as you realized he had been listening to you the entire time. "Yeah! I drew it in my sketchbook a little while back, I think I'll show you when we walk back." You chirped as you slowly began to approach what looked like the most gorgeous candy store of your life. It smelled like heaven and looked just like eye candy. You didn't even get the chance to point before Miles gently guided you through the frosted glass double doors. You beamed as you immediately set off (taking him with you) toward some of the pastries.

You filled up two mini bags with various types of candy, croissants, and two rock candies, one in purple and one in pink. "Miles, what's your favorite candy?" You asked as you scooped gummy sharks into your bag. "Uhh…those sour airhead stripes," he replied as he grabbed two near-frozen sodas from the wide commercial fridge. You got two packs of his favorite candy and slipped it into one of your candy bags, skipping over to him to pay for everything at the counter. You rummaged through your bag for your wallet, looking up to realize Miles already had planted his card in the reader.

"C'mon, this is like, so much stuff! Let me pay!" you insisted as you went to open your wallet. He gave you a firm glare, zipping your entire wallet closed and stuffing it back in your bag. "You good? I'm taking YOU on a date, not the other way around" he asked as you intertwined your hand with his, allowing him to lead you back out of the candy store. You played back his words in your mind, processing each syllable and just how much it meant to you. You giggled to yourself as Miles told you that you were gonna go rollerskating before he took you back home!

There was no actual problem, you loved the idea of going skating with Miles! The issue was…you couldn't skate. Miles laughed loudly as he watched you attempt to meet him on the rink, trying not to bust your ass on the soft and neon carpet. You froze in complete terror, holding both arms out and vaguely resembling a confused cat with its ears back. Miles glided over to you between a fit of giggles, holding out his hand for you to hold onto.

You firmly grasped his hand, holding on for dear life as he slowly guided you to the shiny hardwood floors of the rink. "Miles I'm gonna fucking cry," you state, wide-eyed and afraid as your legs seem to weaken as he gently pushes you forward. "Alright, hold on mama. I gotcha, just drag your legs forward," he instructs as he glides forward like clockwork. He takes both of your hands within his, laughing as you fight back the urge to scream as you look down at the ground. "And here I thought you loved skating!" he laughed.

"I do! I swear I do! But I can't…oh my god I'm gonna faint…" you sighed as you wrapped both arms firmly around his torso, squeezing him like your life depended on it. "Alright, c'mon. Te ayudaré." he shrugs as he propels the both of you forward as slow as he knows how to. It was amazing, and your face lit up when you realized how fun it was to 'rollerskate'. You hadn't realized when, but you naturally picked up the rhythm of Miles's legs, adapting his style of skating slowly but surely. And when you realized you weren't even holding on to him anymore, your face lit up brighter than any star in the world.

When you packed everything up and returned both of your skates, you were giggling like a child and buzzed off nothing but sugar. You wildly explained how much fun you had and how you felt like a flying fairy on the skating rink, thanking Miles over and over for being so fun. He dropped you off at your house, holding a brief conversation with your parents as you skipped upstairs to find your sketchbook. You eagerly showed him the plethora of dresses you had cooked up in your head, explaining every one of them.

"Damn, you really are a princess huh?" He chuckled as you flipped through the many beta designs of dresses comparable to that of Princess Diana's. "I'll just have to get you one of these next time then huh? Tú eres la Princesa de mi corazon." he chuckled as you waved goodbye. You didn't know what he was saying, but you couldn't help but beam at the affectionate energy radiating from his words. He gave a formal goodbye to your parents before disappearing as swiftly as he arrived.

"I like that kid. He's very proper." You heard your mother exclaim. "Will he be over more often?"

You nodded eagerly as you ran up to your room to scream more into your pillow.

[drdemonprince]

Hi Dr. Demon. My partner's mom exhibits traits and behaviors consistent w NPD. The other family members don't acknowledge it in any meaningful way, they just sigh and say "that's just how she is" even when it's crossing boundaries or hurting someone. As a partner, what do I do in this situation? My response when the behavior is directed at me in harmful ways has been to ignore it or enable it, mirroring what everyone else does. I've been doing this for 4 years now and I'm tired. I also have fears about having to take her in when she's older and be a caretaker or at least provide her space in our home - even though I don't want to do this, my partner has expressed wanting to do this. I love my partner and want to keep making this relationship work, and I also find my relationship with his mom to be the most difficult/harmful one in my life.

Let's put aside whether or not your partner's mom has NPD -- my thoughts on the utility of personality disorders as a framework for understanding or predicting behavior are already out there, and you can read them if you like here:

What I'm going to do is focus, as my favorite advice columnist Captain Awkward does, not on the potential psychological reasons why your partner's mom acts the way she does, but the behavior, and crucially, the behavior's impact on you. It doesn't really matter whether some psychiatrists would assign her a label that pathologizes some pretty common effects of attachment trauma. That's immaterial to the fact that she is doing a lot of shit that bothers you -- and that matters, and you deserve to address it for your own sake, regardless of what her own motives or backhistory are.

And to that end, I'd recommend: reading a shit ton of Captain Awkward! She really is the fuckin expert at diffusing tense situations assertively, wriggling oneself free of the grasp of manipulative and guilting people, and realigning family boundaries so that they work for you. Jen's writing concerns itself with behavior that you can take to maintain your own peace of mind, which is what ultimately matters and what you have control over. Here are a few select readings:

There's a lot of practical advice in her other columns about dealing with intrusive/invasive/guilting/irritating friends and coworkers that you might find useful in a roundabout way, too! Jen is a genius at unpacking social dynamics and making what can feel torturously complex and difficult suddenly very simple. Check her stuff out!

[wtftarot]

How can you navigate your life from here on?

Thank you, @lifeofaie for suggesting this reading, I really loved the idea.

Listen, I fuckin love a good road trip, ok? And navigating on a road trip ain't that different from navigating your life. Great music and shitty snacks. Wrong turns and detours that end up being half the fun and the whole story later. Arriving later than you planned or having plans changed entirely. How it always seems like the more you try to plan and control things the more they go off the rails. What do you need to keep in mind on this road trip called life? (yes I know how dorky that was, nope I don't care, yes all of these are gonna be heavy on road trip metaphors) Consider this reading, stopping and asking a local for directions and I promise not to lead you to the den of a serial killer. What is your inner compass saying? Is it time to make a rest stop? Let's fuck around and find out.

as always this reading is for entertainment purposes only and is not a substitute for professional advice in any capacity. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Pick either the Road Stretching On, The Road to Anywhere and Nowhere, or the Road to Ol' Kentucky and head on to your reading

The Road That Stretches On

The Tower, Seven/ Swords Rx and the Magician on the bottom of the deck.

This reading is HEAVY. Some of y'all who came to this reading are dealing with some heavy mental shit. I am not a mental health professional, please seek one out. Tarot is awesome and helpful but it is not therapy.

Take a breath. I'm so fuckin serious right now. You need to breathe and clear your mind even for a second. Don't ya just love how many people come to readings and then ignore the simplest advice given? To just take a breath? ( I love y'all, but some of y'all need a lil call out every now and then) The reason why I'm pushing y'all to stop and breathe is cause y'all's mind never. fuckin. stops. does it? Never. I had to restart this reading three times, cause I just kept getting wrapped up in y'all's anxiety spiral. And, I know it's hard but if you never make a conscious decision to try and slow down and give yourself a second, it's not gonna happen. Human brains are mostly auto-pilot and if you don't try and take the reins every once in a while it'll just keep doing what it's doing. Y'all are incredibly overwhelmed by making decisions for your future. It's like you see your future like the picture you chose, a road stretching on forever that can lead to anywhere depending on the turns you make but for you there's something that could be lurking in each turn. Something you're not seeing and that is terrifying to you. Now the main contender here looks to be anxiety about the state of the world, climate change, wars, pollution, famine, natural disasters, and on and on. Like y'all seem to be thinking what's the point, everything's going to shit. Listen, I'm gonna try to be gentle but when I tell y'all I'm very passionate about this, I am downplaying so fuckin hard. A lot of people fall into this overwhelm, it's not your fault. Governments and corporations put a shit ton of effort into keeping us feeling overwhelmed, cause overwhelmed people are too drained to put up a real fight. The point of trying is you being happy. That is worth it. The point is you can spread that joy. The point is to make a difference while you can. The point is that yeah, the world may be going to hell in a handbasket and you're just one person but you are a whole ass person. Who doesn't have to take this shit lying down. You want to live your life but are terrified of what might happen if you do. You feel like the world is a scary place and it can be sometimes, but you're so scared of truly stepping into the world, you never let yourself be or do much. It's like y'all are super fuckin excited for the road trip but are so scared of what may be around any turn, you just keep going on the same road letting it take you wherever it does. To get anywhere you want to go you have to make some choices. Yea, they may not always turn out how you planned but here's the thing: You will be okay. What you need to do to navigate your life? I'm sorry, y'all are gonna hate this advice but trust yourself. Sweetie, you are so much more capable than you give yourself credit for, hell you may not have any knowledge of your full capabilities cause you've never let yourself reach them. Tarot readings can help you navigate, but all the readings in the world won't help you get anywhere if you never put your foot on the gas.

random ass vibes: I dunno if y'all forgot to eat but like I've been ravenous this whole reading, The cartoon Roadrunner, venus, tea, sunburn, flowers, 666

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The Road to Anywhere and Nowhere

The Star, the Five/Pentacles Rx and the High Priestess on the bottom of the deck.

Listen, honey. You can handle this. And you know you can. You're listening to your intuition, learning to trust yourself if you don't already. Y'all are navigating your life, you may have rough moments as we all do but y'all are learning to handle those moments with grace. I'm not gonna lie, it took me a minute to figure out why y'all are even at this reading, seems like the topic of this reading ain't something y'all need help with. And it ain't, y'all are killing it in this area. The reason y'all are here? Y'all need some encouragement. Maybe need is the wrong word, cause y'all are doing fuckin awesome either way. Deserve. That's the word. Y'all deserve some encouragement. The road you're on may be unconventional or the people around you very strongly disagree with. Or maybe they just strongly disagree with you, your identity as a person. (I dunno where "strongly disagree" is coming from but it keeps popping up in my head?) I feel like y'all have actively had people put you down and were able to power through and encourage yourselves, so you may not need others to encourage you. BUT we all deserve to be encouraged, just cause you can power through without supportive voices doesn't mean that you should have to. SO GET READY FOR SOME CHANNELED ENCOURAGEMENT MOTHERFUCKER! Y'all have been doing a fuckin amazing job moving away from shitty past situations and are not fucking giving yourselves enough credit. Yes, even if it was "just" some mental blocks. Oh, "just" a mental block are you kidding me? Do you know how hard getting over your own mental bullshit is?? Y'all are over here, learning to parkour over your mental bullshit like a goddamn ninja, acting like it's no big deal. Sweetie, that's huge, you do realize that? To be honest with yourself, call yourself on your bullshit and then do something about it? Step fuckin one of that is daunting. And I'm hearing that y'all were able to get through faster than even your guides were expecting. Honey, how powerful are you? Not only that, but y'all are learning to argue with your self-deprecating thoughts. Asking them, who gives a shit what they have to say? And taking all the energy you used to put into pushing yourself down and using it to build yourself up. That's SO fuckin badass, y'all! Talk about fuckin alchemizing shit. Y'all saw how much time and energy it was taking to keep yourself small and hurt, thought: Wonder what would happen if I used that to build myself up instead? And then you went and did it and ITS FUCKIN GORGIOUS. The blessings are gonna start rolling in with this new energy, but you already knew that. Cause motherfucker YOU are the blessing! Y'all are really embodying your own power and strength and are KICKING ASS. The last message is to let yourself rest, y'all are doing a lot. So give yourself a break, let yourself sleep in a bit later. Set aside time to just chill, you won't lose your progress while you sleep.

random ass vibes: receiving roses, worms, gardening, astronomy designs on clothes, 18, hide and seek

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The Road to Ol' Kentucky

Shout out to all my fellow Kentuckians! How y'all doing?

The Moon Rx, The Queen/Wands, the Page/Cups Rx and the Five/Wands Rx on the back of the deck

Y'all are being called to really embody yourself and your power moving forward. It seems like y'all not only have it in your head that you're a Page when you're a Queen (queen energy, not gender). You're wrong about the whole damn suit. Others may have convinced you you're being sensitive when they're being an asshole and you're pissed about it. (As if letting people talk shit about you is "weak" right?) Y'all think you're the negative aspects of the Cups: Overly emotional, flakey, manipulative, disorganized, and self-centered. When the truth is you're the positive aspects of the Wands: Passionate, creative, driven, confident, and strong-willed. Y'all are really fuckin hard on yourselves, okay? Others may have been intimidated by your strengths and convinced you they were your weaknesses. If y'all have been feeling stuck, this is why, alright? You are stuck cause you've been told that the way to get unstuck IS the reason you're stuck. Think of it like this, y'all are an airplane, convinced by cars that flying is your biggest weakness, trying to figure out why you never seem to get anywhere. Airplanes can roll around, sure but they're MADE to fly. It's time to do some hard thinking, probably back to when you were a kid. What were the things you loved and pursued, how did you pursue them and what bullshit did others say about it? Like, did you get super focused on an activity you were doing, forget about choirs or some shit, and then be called irresponsible and lazy? When you wanted something, were you the type to push and work towards it, then be called stubborn or relentless or annoying when others decided they wanted you to do something else? Because there are some good qualities y'all have that are how you're supposed to show up in the world that you're not letting yourself embody. To be clear, I'm not talking about being told you're acting like an asshole when you were, in fact acting like an asshole. I'm talking about strengths you had that were demonized to you and in an effort to be a better person you stopped using. Now they've atrophied and you've gotta work them out to get them back. Cause, listen the typical way of navigation ain't gonna work for you. Y'all can continue to roll around and try to get where you wanna go, but it's gonna be slow and a billion times harder. You ever seen an airplane trying to go down a road through town? Think a sec on on how hard that would be. Cause that's you, right now. There are no road maps for the sky, ya know? Y'all are charting your own path. You need to stop trying to make yourself follow the road map for life that others are using. It's not gonna work for you, cause it was never meant to. Y'all are on an unconventional path, the only way forward is to embrace it.

random ass vibes: Back To The Future, coffee, night owl, finding your people, reds oranges and yellows, clouds, libra, cats. Thelma and Louise

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[intheholler]

what do you think of all of the people being scared of appalachia? i don't know if this is recent or not, but currently i've been seeing a ton of shit online like "never go to the appalachian mountains, it's so dangerous", and i just don't understand it. my family's lived in appalachia for forever, and none of us have experienced anything paranormal or endangering to us. you're one of my favorite blogs on here and i'd just like to hear your thoughts on it

first off, it means a lot that i'm one of your favorite blogs and im really happy i can contribute something to your experience here :') thanks so much for being here <333

but ok so.

my thoughts on it are many. it's been bothering me a long time and i've been meaning to get it off my chest. this will be long and probably ranty, so it won't hurt my feelings if anyone skims lol

lemme preface this little diatribe by saying the obvious: folklore is an integral part of any culture. the mythos of a place/people is tied directly to their histories and unique experiences and struggles and they are enriching. this is true of appalachia too.

oral folk traditions especially are incredibly historically appalachian.

i mentioned in a post i made yesterday about murder ballads, how the purpose of these was to warn kids away from doing dumb shit and getting lost in the hollers--falling down cliffs n mineshafts and shit at night. gettin got by wildlife.

it spooked us safe. they served a purpose, and once you got old enough to realize they're as real as the tooth fairy, they just become enjoyable and nostalgic. because they're you're culture.

probably every mountain kid has stories about haints n boogers that were told to them by their grandparents, and they grow up to tell them to their own kids, and so on. some of it stuck with me because i grew up with the folklore.

by that i mean, i'm a whole 31 year old woman and i still avoid looking out a dark window at night cause it gives me the shivers. i still get spooked when i hear a big cat yowling in the woods. but the difference is i know there's not really haints out there crying--it's just a product of my childhood. ghost stories are fun.

the problem comes in when someone outside the culture gets their hands on appalachian oral folk traditions. then, it becomes a familiar problem: outsiders cherry picking appalachia and harming us with the mess they make rifling through it all.

it's all about the surface level and the visuals. they all love a good aesthetic blog, run by some local from out west or some shit who's never stepped foot here.

but as soon as the spooky photo filters come off and the real life marginalized person is left standing there just out of frame, we go back to being disgusting examples of what not to be. decrepit churches n buildings are aesthetic and quirky until they stop being on a pinterest board, and then they just become damning images of an impoverished region who deserves to be laughed at.

now, not to holler 'splain you--this is more for anyone not from here who might read this: it's been a systemic issue for decades; there were literal government campaigns to demonize us to the rest of the nation so they could garner support to cut into our mountains and exploit our labor and resources.

well, they were fuckin successful, and we have been falsely made out to be this homogenous nightmare of a place--"welfare exploiting" maga country who deserves everything we get, and nothing we don't.

by going so far as to take appalachian folklore that we tell each other and picking out the "aesthetic" stuff--the haints and general paranormal--they are pruning what they like from our culture--the safe things, like ghost stories--for their own aesthetic use.

but not only that, they are using it to demonize us… yet again.

'appalachia is scary. it's full of things that will kill you. don't look out the window at night cause a booger will get you.' only they don't call them boogers cause they ain't even from here. ask them what a haint is and they'll ask if u mispelled 'haunt.'

it gets even worse when you consider that so much of it has roots in native american culture, and how that continues to be exploited and misrepresented.

i'm not even innocent of that. a while back i had to check myself because i made a comment on here about ~spooky appalachia~ ignorant to the fact that what i was commenting on was actually a deeply important cultural and spiritual element to local indigenous tribes. my comments were harmful by my failure to educate myself and know better, thereby saying things carelessly.

my point being--i'm from the area. i should have known better.

when outsiders start saying the kind of shit they say about what they think they hear in the woods without even knowing where such an idea comes from, they're disrespecting a displaced, abused and exploited people, harming real cultures just for clicks without even knowing. that's on top of the damage they're doing to greater appalachia.

it's fuckin gross.

i think my favorite one i ever seen was this middle aged white lady going through her pristine mcmansion somewhere in suburbia, pulling the million curtains and locking the million doors, going "nighttime routine in appalachia!! 🤪🤪"

i could be wrong about this particular person--i didn't check their other tiktoks because im sick of them accounts and tired of giving them the benefit of the doubt--but it immediately came off as a transplant because:

1) mcmansion, 2) i dont know nobody here that locks their shit down like that (not locking up could even be argued as a part of my local culture, a reflection of our deep sense of community and trust in our neighbors).

and then the comments was all like "i don't know how you guys live there" and it actually broke my heart and pissed me off because even if--especially if--you're one of us, why the fuck are you harming us for likes? why are you turning people against us in a brand new way?

and to the transplants that do this--why?

you're not even from here, you moved here to this place you hate and made it worse just so your front porch would have a nice view, and are now benefiting socially from perpetuating bullshit about us?

you buy up all the land, land we often had no choice but to sell in the first place to survive instead of passing it on to our families, land we originally took from the indigenous peoples your content comes from.

you overdevelop it and turn it unrecognizable to make it more like the comfortable cities you come from. you gut a mountain town of its local businesses and cultures, you price people out of their homes...

...and then once you settle in all cozy like, you go tell everyone else how scary it is? how you can't trust the hills? like it's a cool paranormal bravery badge to wear? fuck off entirely.

so idk, in short my personal thoughts are: i personally enjoy a little myth as a treat, because the folklore is a part of the gothic, a part of our culture and a part of my childhood. i don't (intentionally) wield it as a weapon or use it as a pedestal to get the weird brand of attention that people like them are after.

and those who do this can get got by them haints for all i care.