#fucking. hell. and i have to go again tomorrow too

[elvensorceress]

saturday snippet of longing and pining and being completely unaware of your own feelings! (feelings are hard, okay)

@tizniz @hippolotamus @livinginsunnyhell @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @thelikesofus @monsterrae1 @ronordmann @wh0rebehavi0r @epicbuddieficrecs @chaosandwolves @singitforthegirls @daffi-990 @lonelychicago @sofa-king-lame @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @blutterlie @sazanahashi @smilingbuckley @inell @bekkachaos @evaneds @rainbow-nerdss 💕

more of this 🥰

"I don’t know how anyone could not want you.”

Buck stares at him again with that piercing, soul-rending gaze that skewers directly through Eddie’s chest. But then Buck closes his eyes and shakes his head with a sardonic huff. “He’s straight. So. Doesn’t really work that way.”

Probably says something that Eddie’s first thought is, why not?

Why would it matter? Who would even care about sexuality if it were Buck offering his heart? Attraction is made up bullshit anyway. Who actually looks at someone and wants them when you know nothing about each other? Who wants to fuck just because they think someone is good looking? No one falls in love at first sight. It’s romanticized, telenovela fiction. And people lying to themselves because they’re lonely or want attention or orgasms or whatever. 

There’s a lot you can convince yourself of when you’re lonely, heartbroken, afraid you’ll die alone, afraid you’re a failure as a person, a husband, a partner. There’s a lot someone might do to be what other people want. There’s a lot that gets cut out and tucked away in order to be what you’re supposed to. 

All the more reason Eddie judges and dislikes anyone Buck dates. He’s totally justified. None of them get him and they don’t adequately appreciate him at all and Buck deserves all the love in the universe. At the very least, he deserves someone who will love him just as much and just as fiercely as Buck loves them. 

“Weren’t you ‘straight’ until Tommy?” Eddie asks. “Or— not that it was dependent on him, not that he did anything— but you thought you were straight until you realized you liked him. Right?” 

Buck looks at him, stares too hard at him for far too long and it makes goosebumps wash all over Eddie’s skin. The hair on the back of his neck prickles and swishing, churning flips through his stomach. 

“Yeah,” Buck answers quietly. “I don’t think that’s the case here though. Doesn’t matter. It’s not— It’s late. Too late. It’s really too late. We should sleep.”

Yeah. They should. Eddie has a long day of more packing to do tomorrow and another long distance tour with the realtor. Even if thoughts are whirling in his head. Too many thoughts. 

How does Buck know it’s unrequited? How does he know what he’s feeling now if he didn’t before? Did something change? How the hell would Tommy supposedly know if Buck didn’t know? 

How does Buck feel when he likes someone? 

How does anyone feel when they like someone? How do you know if you do? Is there supposed to be something you feel when you’re looking at someone beautiful? How would you know they’re beautiful if all you know about them is how they look? 

How do you feel anything for someone? Especially if you don’t know them? People say sex is better with someone you love, but is that more romanticized bullshit lies? Probably not. Sex is overrated honestly. It’s fine. Mostly. Just. Not what everyone seems to say it is. Nothing earth shattering or life changing. Nothing all that intimate either. Not technically. It’s just distant, avoidant, using each other for a moment of relief. He and Shannon did it so they didn’t have to talk. When they didn’t want to talk or actually be close. They didn’t have to go on dates or bare their souls or anything. They could just take off some clothes. 

Isn’t that what everyone does? Isn’t that the difference between dating someone versus being friends with them? 

Is it supposed to be different? Is that why people like sex? Because it’s different for them? 

Does anyone actually feel the kinds of intense, fervent, passionate emotions that people make up stories about? Isn’t romance just another fantasy? Like fairy tale magic and otherworldly phenomena? Like dragons and unicorns and mythical creatures? It’s a nice fantasy, but still a fantasy. None of it is real. 

Love isn’t sex or attraction or beautiful people being beautiful. None of that is love. 

Love is sacrifice. Connection. It’s blood and battle and being torn apart. Giving up everything because there’s no alternative. Because you’re not whole anymore without the person you love. They’re part of you. So losing them is losing yourself. 

Is that all love is? Loss? 

Eddie reaches out and holds onto Buck’s shoulder. They should sleep. He’s tired, too. But there’s heaviness in his chest and a swirl of despair whirlpooling inside him. It’s small now, but it’s been growing and he needs to hold onto Buck. 

When it’s not enough to just grip his shoulder, Eddie lets his hand slide down until it’s again resting on Buck’s chest and he can gently rub back and forth a few times. He hopes it’s comforting. He hopes Buck knows he’s not alone. Eddie won’t let him be alone. Someone will love Buck the way he should be. 

A wave of envious aching crashes through Eddie’s chest and he swallows hard. Buck should be loved. Buck is loved. Maybe not the way he wants. But Eddie loves him. Every beat, every breath, every single shred of his soul holds love for Buck. It might not be enough, but it is there. Eddie would love him until Buck finds someone he wants who loves him properly. 

Eddie would love him after that, too. Even when Buck is happy and settled and doesn’t need him anymore. 

Buck takes Eddie’s hand and holds it tightly as he closes his eyes. He doesn’t turn back around. And he doesn’t let go. 

Eddie just wants to inch closer and hold tighter. 

There’s something faded, slipping away like tides and wet sand through his fingers. 

Why can’t he keep this?

Why can’t this be the answer? Why can’t Eddie love him the way he wants? Why can’t Buck love Eddie this way? Why can’t they be in love with each other? 

[doublejango]

for @botanikos -- for post-Mastermind feelz

Blitz had never felt this strange in his life. He watched the sky, watched the fireworks, listened to the gunshots. All across the city, imps were celebrating. Not just that he had lived, but than one of them had survived. Against all odds, he was still here, an imp had been thrust into the eye of damned near every power in Hell, but he was still breathing--

Because of Stolas.

He turned his head, listening to his former lover's steady breathing. Half-comforted by his presence, half-heartbroken, Blitz felt like a mess, but a calm one, a happy one. He shouldn't be happy, and he knew there was going to be fear and trauma to come from all of this, but so be it. That was just life, and it was for tomorrow. For right now, for tonight? Everything was okay. Even if nothing was really okay, because Stolas's world had just been torn apart, things were okay. Right now, right now, they were okay.

When the celebrations died off, Blitz silenced his phone. He got up and went over to the couch, just standing there for a moment and looking down at Stolas, heart full to bursting with how much he loved him, with the depth of the gratitude he felt. He kissed his forehead again, not wanting to wake him. "I love you," he whispered, as soft as a breath, his lips near Stolas's ear. "I love you, Stolas. And I'm gonna take care of you. Whatever it takes."

Blitz went and showered--

And that was where it hit.

Everything about the day caught up with him all at once, and he had to press his hands and face against the tiled wall, focusing on just breathing, just letting the tidal wave of emotions brush over him. In a way, an odd, fucked up way, this all felt... wrong? That axe had descended towards him and he had accepted it, he had lowered his head willingly, proud to die for the people he loved, trying to will his love out into them, and he should be dead. Blitz had had all kinds of close calls before, but this? This felt different.

There was a difference between a public execution and a firefight that just came up in the course of doing one's job.

And now?

Now, he knew what the situation really was in Hell. He knew it wasn't just a bias. He didn't have a chip on his shoulder. He had an entire world of his people, all of them as vulnerable as he was--most of them, a fuckton more so. All of the lesser Hellborn, the lowest of the low, were nothing more than bugs to be squashed in the eyes of Hell's nobility, with no protections, no one who would come for them the way Stolas had...

Blitz toweled off slowly, letting his mind and heart wander, feeling numb and strange. He knew that things were going to change, knew he was going to--to what? To overthrow the tyrants who chose not to value the lives of their people? To champion his own, whatever it cost, whatever it took? Knew he was going to make Stolas pancakes, and try to help him laugh, and try to help him feel safe? That. And that. And that, and that, and that.... So many thoughts buzzing through him, but he didn't try to fight them. He didn't try to put them down or chase them, too tired, too worn out.

Satan was an idiot who had just put his star on the ascendant, and Blitz wasn't going to waste that opportunity.

But ambitions were for tomorrow.

Tonight was for love.

He had one stuffed animal left from his childhood. It didn't take long to dig the soft little horse plushie out of the closet. Blitz tucked it into Stolas's arms, then slipped a hand under the blanket to feel his chest. His place was colder than Stolas's ever was, he worried, so he grabbed his leather jacket and draped it over Stolas's torso as well.

"I love you," he whispered again. Vision blurring with tears, Blitz smiled at him for a long moment, then went and changed into his pajamas. Content, he stretched out on the floor--with his tail up on the couch, loosely draped over Stolas's legs. He was sure there was no way he was ever going to fall asleep, not now, but...

-

The apartment smelled subtly different in the morning. Stolas. Stolas and heartache, and even the air felt fragile somehow, but that warm, feathery scent was enough to make Blitz smile the moment he woke. He tried to tone it down, trying to be respectful of the fact that his beloved probably wasn't going to be okay, or anything near it, for a long, long time, but still... Blitz was happy he was here. Selfishly so, maybe, but better that Stolas was here than dead.

He sat up and looked over, trying to gage if he was awake or not, unwilling to disturb him if he wasn't. Everything felt complicated, they had an entirely new set of rules to figure out, who and what they were to each other, all of it, everything had changed--but all of that major shit could trickle in slowly. There was no need to rush. No need to overwhelm Stolas, who was probably already overwhelmed, already a mess. How could he not be, after everything that had just been ripped away from him?

"You up?" Blitz whispered, his voice quiet in the dimly lit room.

[pedrosgrogu]

Born Too Late - Chapter 8

pairing/au: neighbor!joel x reader // no outbreak

Chapter 7 - Chapter 9 - Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI!! female masturbation, lots of angst, loss of parents mentioned, family issues, lots of tears

Summary: You prepare for Thanksgiving with Tommy and he catches you at an emotional point. Thats what friends are for, right? (1.2k+)

a/n: ok idk how this is gonna go over with yall but be gentle because this came to me in a dream, and through validation from @smellslikenevermore. i really dont have much else to say bc this shit is about to get juicy so buckle the fuck up. leave feedback, i rely on strangers validation because im not normal. xoxox

p.s. there will be another chapter posted at some point today, i just didnt want this one to be like 4k words lol.

Your phone rings, jolting you awake. You spit out a groggy “Hello?”. “Hey pretty lady” soft and southern, it warms you like a physical embrace. “Tommy. It is so early.” you say, rolling over and looking at the clock. “I know but I’ve gotta run to the store to grab some stuff for tomorrow, and wanted to beat the crowds. I was gonna see if you wanted to tag along.” You sigh, throwing the blankets off. “Sarah’s gonna come too if that makes it any more enticing.” he says, laughing.  “Yeah why not, give me about 20 minutes and I’ll be over.” 

You open your curtains, just like you do at the begining of every day. Joel’s are still closed, and have been for weeks now. You remember the first night you moved in and how both of your windows were the focal point of the evening. You walk into your bathroom and turn the shower on, extra hot. The steam filling the room makes you sweat, reminding you of your nights with Joel. Sweaty and suffocating. You strip down and walk to your bedside table, pulling out your vibrator. The numbing vibration on your clit makes you cum almost immediately, and the only noise heard is Joel’s name. Over and over. You cant seem to stop yourself, the relief each time better than the last. Imagining the way his fingers fit perfectly inside you, how his teeth left every inch of your skin nipped with passion, how his voice talked you through every step. Time has stopped and the shower is no longer steaming into your room. Your release on the horizon, you’re seeing stars and imagining every position Joel could put you in- KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. And its gone. As quickly as it came, its gone. You throw your toy in frustration, and throw a robe on. You make your way to the door, opening it to see Tommy and Sarah. “Woah lady!” Tommy says, shielding his eyes. “You said 20 minutes 30 minutes ago, what the hell have you been doin? I tried to call!” he says, making Sarah laugh. “Just wait on the couch. Ill be out in 10.” You say, closing the door behind them and walking to your room. You dont remember hearing your phone ring but then again, you were on a different planet, and time was non-existent. 

Piled into Tommys truck, the 3 of you head to H-E-B. “Alright, I’ve gotta get some beer, some celery, and some bread for the stuffing.” You throw your head in Tommys direction, with a look of playful disgust. “Tommy Miller, how is it the day before Thanksgiving and you dont have the main ingredient for stuffing?” you retort, giving him a light slap on the arm. “Listen, I don’t do the shoppin, blame my brother.” he says. You turn around, looking at Sarah. “And what did you forget?” you say smiling. “I wanted to make chocolate covered strawberries so chocolate and strawberries!” She says excitedly. “That sounds good Sarah! Let me know if you need any help.”  You write 2 lists, handing one to Tommy and keeping one for yourself. He’s in charge of beer and non-perishables. You’re in charge of perishables and wine.

In the store you both grab carts, and go in your separate directions. You grab Sarahs strawberries, Tommys celery, and sweet potatoes for yourself. If theres on thing you can cook, its a mean sweet potato casserole. You head to the alcohol aisle and meet up with Tommy, checking off both your lists. You grab 4 bottles of wine, 2 reds and 2 whites. “Does Joel even know Im coming?” you ask Tommy, watching Sarah grab marshmallows off the endcap a few feet in front of you. “Yeah, I told him.” Tommy says, not saying anything else. You’re trying to gauge his facial expression surrounding the question. “What did he-” “I got the marshmallows!” Sarah says, throwing them into the cart. You leave your sentence unfinished, checking off the rest of the list. 

The ride back is silent, Tommy keeps looking at you like he has something to say but he doesnt. You try not to think about tomorrow, unsure of if being alone is worse than being around Joel. Tears begin to well in your eyes right as you turn onto your street. You force them to stay put, helping Tommy unload the groceries. You help carry everything in with the exception of your things for tomorrow. Walking into the house, you’re immediately paralyzed by the smell, by his  smell. Sarah runs past you, into his arms. “Hi daddy! We went to the store and we got the stuff for my strawberries!” “Thats great babygirl.” he says, kissing her forehead. The tears are back, and theres no forcing them away this time. Your brain is flooded with images of childhood holidays with your family, back when everything was seemingly normal and everyone got along. You feel a tear fall down your cheek as you set the groceries on the island. The same island that he ravaged you on. You look up at him, hoping for any hint of how hes feeling, hoping he’ll pull you into him and wipe your tears, and tell you that everything is okay. But his facial expression is stoic, and he doesn’t move. No sign of any emotion. You wipe your tears and head straight for the door. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” you exclaim, trying to hide the pain in your voice. Pulling the door behind you before anything else is said. 

You grab your groceries out of the back of Tommys truck and trudge home. You fucking hate the holidays, they havent been the same in years. You turn the key to open your door, and feel a hand on your shoulder. “Sweet girl, whats goin’ on?” and you lose it. 

You drop the groceries and throw yourself into Tommys arms, sobbing uncontrollably. You hear the glass of the wine bottles shatter. “Shhhhh” he says, one hand holding your head, the other rubbing your back. After a couple minutes, you gather yourself and walk inside, leaving the broken glass on your porch and the groceries on the floor inside the door. 

“The holidays are just hard Tommy.” you say, sniffling. Hes in your kitchen putting groceries away. “Trust me, I know. I aint had a mama or daddy to spend the holidays with the last 10 years. And then Connie and Sarah came along, and then Connie left.” You dont say anything, but assume Connie is Sarahs mom. This is the first time either of the men have spoke about her, at least in front of you. You elaborate on your family as well. About how your father in convinced that your ex was the second coming of Christ, and was the best thing that had ever happened to you. About how it was his way or the highway. About his patriarchal ways in the goddamn 21st century. He sits beside you and just holds you again. Your tears slowly stop, but the feeling of sadness and emptiness still resides. You look up at Tommy and hes staring through you. His eyes a deep brown like his brothers, and before you know it his lips are on yours. And you dont pull away.

[hinderr]

Anyway ive decided. Worst feeling in the world is realising youve inherited your father's temper

[ratatatastic]

"Who's idea was it to put the cone on your head for the parade? Was that all you?" "Zach Eisenberg [Director, Executive Operations]—I think is his name—he takes care of us a lot at Amerant Bank Arena. I don't know his exact role with the team but he's just kind-of always around, and helps us out. He's friends with Brooks [Koepka.] I think he helps Brooks when he comes to the games. Anyways he found a pylon or I think I might have told him—I was pretty drunk at the time but I think I told him to go get a py—'if you could find a pylon, find one!' 'Cuz they sprung that speech on me, kind-of, last second, you know, five minutes before I was supposed to go up there. I'm like, 'What the fuck am I gonna say?' So I had him go grab the pylon and I grabbed it on the side of the stage right before I was gonna do my speech. And luckily all the clips are of that, you know, me telling him to go fuck himself... 'cuz the rest of my speech was terrible. There's really nothing to it! And I'm so happy that, you know, all the clips are only of that so!" "Yeah, we didn't know you said anything else! I thought that was the entire speech!" "That's all that matters!" "Exactly, exactly! I got away with it there!"

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)

i love finding out they basically told ekky he was gonna have to do a whole speech 5 minutes before he was up while hes been drenched from rainwater and alcohol for like the past 6 hours absolutely pissed out of his mind like yeah no wonder his speech basically culminated to THANK YOU SOUTH FLORIDA AND ALSO GIVE IT UP FOR MY D PARTNER WOOOOO yeah that tracks

"But what golf tournament* were you at shortly after that? Somebody was dressed like a cone? Was that Lomberg who was dressed in like a costume? A cone costume?" "He came—Brooks came up to you—" "No, that was his buddy, that was his buddy. He was actually a Sunrise police officer. I actually saw him last night at the Zach Bryan concert! But yeah, no, that's one of his buddies. No, he was completely put to bed the day after. Right? Like he texted me—I personally didn't care, like, how many people at a hockey game are calling me a cone and telling Barkov he's got no hands like it's—you know, that's hockey. That's sports, right? So I didn't give a shit but—yeah, no, it was all in good fun. And then I got a way to get him back! It's perfect!" "But when you did see the first video of him in the box—and I remember watching that, I'm like, 'this motherfucker is rolling esctasy!' His eyes were fuckin' gigantic, he's like, 'Aaargghh.' Like, 'I can't take him, he's calling me a cone! I can't—' But that is kind-of odd that a professional athlete is gonna call you a cone and he's like a fan of yours...it's just—it was really bizarre!" "Goofy!" "Yeah..." "And his eyes were black which, you know..." "What does that mean?" "I just know what that means... and he was fucked up, you know..." "Yeah, yeah! He was definitely fucked up and he agreed that he was fucked up. And he apologised so I didn't care, obviously. And then when I was at that golf event I should've thrown a beer at his backswing or something—at the LIV event when he was actually competing? I should've fucked with him but I couldn't do it... I couldn't—I couldn't find the courage to throw something at him..." "So did he reach out to you like that night? And say, 'Hey, dude... I was just joking, you know...'" "'I took some pills and...'"

*2023 LIV Golf Team Championship (Miami) held from Oct. 20-22 in Doral

[and i suppose more context here lombo and koepka are friends and he even showed up to his cupday when he went golfing in parkland and not to mention that lombo facilitated koepka apologising to ekky so its why the whole cone costume came to be really]

theres a lot more context about this incident and the ensuing storm after it so for archival sakes here are articles about it (x)(x)(x)(x)(x) because its quite a saga but its water under the bridge and there's only so much tabloid-esque coverage thats been reignited after the ekky speech i can take about an athlete who's dumb enough to insult another guy while hes drunk off as his ass in a fucking public setting

but anyways i think its really funny that i said to myself wow thats an oddly petty thing to admit to you know the whole wanting to throw a beer at his backswing ekky... for such a good vibes sweet man who like the only thing youve particularly said about the cone novella is "we'll never be buddies" to which you quickly retracted and then went "holding ill will against somebody and pulling negativity in your body is never a good thing"

and then i remembered who he attended the liv event with and it all made sense

behind every aqua whos being a little mean there is a much worse much more evil looming presence who is encouraging them down this dark path (a gem but especially a june gem)

truly a tale as old as time

[sparrowsfallingfromthesky]

what the hell. you know that post that was going around a little while ago about how some american houses have razor blades in the walls because some medicine cabinets were made with slots for them? at the time I was like "well that sounds fake, sure there are pictures but who the fuck would think that was a good idea?" but I just discovered that apparently I have TWO of those slots in my fucking house

[hauntingblue]

FRUIT LORE! FRUIT LORE! FRUIT LORE! FRUIT LORE! FRUIT LORE! FRUIT LORE! FRUIT LORE!

[thnksfrthmmrs]

[phagodyke]

I have an interview tmr for a possible teaching assistant job. but I realllyyyy really don't want to fucking go

[jorvikzelda]

I finished the stripe B)

[garnetsandroses]

irl-related vitriol in tags, beware

[realnielsbohr]

hmmm having. a time <3

[phantomrose96]

Okay I have a story.

So my birthday is this Sunday (May 26th). My mom ordered some presents for me but one of them (an Etsy purchase) was seemingly stuck in transit and might not make it on time. I tell my mom all good, no worries. She gets in contact with the seller. After a long delay in response they get back with "Right we'll fix it!" It ships, tracking label and everything, good to go! ETA May 22nd (yesterday.)

During the work day I check the tracking and it says it's been delivered in/at mailbox! I double check with my mom "hey, is it mailbox size?" because if not, I don't want it sitting at the front door where anyone walking by could snag it.

She says "it's definitely NOT mailbox size." Okay. I text my neighbors in the building "Anyone seen a package delivered? It's a birthday gift from my mom and I wanna make sure it gets inside!" Success! Floor 2 David (not to be confused with Floor 1 David) had brought it inside. Inform my mom. All good!

I stop by home briefly around 4pm, because yesterday was hot-hot and I just installed my window A/C that morning in the living room, and according to my cat cam my stupid cat hasn't spent a single second in the climate controlled living room and is, instead, voluntarily baking herself elsewhere so I'm like "great" and hop on my bike to go home (10 minute ride) to check on her.

I get in the building door. Patches is crying from the top floor because she heard me. I maneuver my bike in the front hall. The ugliest fucking 6-foot-tall cat tree(?)/totem(?)/statue(?) I've seen in my entire life is just. Standing there.

My first thought is "What the fuck is that." My second thought is "Oh fuck that is for me." I look around at the floor in case there's perhaps anything else that might, in fact, be the gift.

No. Me and Cat Pole.

It's taller than me. I turn it around to face me and its face is painted and this is, in fact, uglier than it looked from the back.

Um.

Patches is crying. So I just haul it up to my level. MAYBE it was supposed to come with twine that I wrap around it (and hide its face from the world) for Patches to scratch. Maybe this is a prank. Maybe this is an inside joke, because when my mom moved into her current house the neighborhood gifted her some ugly-as-hell totem that apparently, by tradition, each newest-comer to the neighborhood is required to have and display in their window so maybe this is a very good riff on that.

Patches rubs against it. She's not afraid of this horrid facsimile of her kind.

Great.

Meanwhile SHE'S fine and the condo is a little toasty but totally liveable so I'm like "Good, cool, you're not baking. You're having a good time. Enjoy your new sister, I guess, I'll see you later."

I go back to work because this is a problem for later me.

After work, after my run, after whatever, I get home and it's like 8:00pm and Patches is so happy to see me and the totem pole is still just. There.

I text my friends like "so a bday gift is here from my mom and it's the Biggest Ugliest cat pole I've seen in my life. Is this a bit? Did my mom go 'that's so ugly haha! send!' Maybe she genuinely found it cute. How do I navigate this." My friend Sarah has the good advice to maybe text my mom neutrally like "Got the cat pole!" and feel the waters whether my mom is like "Isn't it ugly? 😂" or "Hope Patches likes it! 🥰"

My mom goes to bed early so I don't do any of that yet. Problem for tomorrow me.

This morning, Patches wakes me up for breakfast. I get her situated and I'm staring at the fucking Cat Pole again. I wonder if my Mom's been wondering all night what I thought of it.

I take a picture. I text her.

Okay.

I get on call with my mom. I ask for clarity that the ungodly horrid thing is NOT my birthday gift and is in fact a mix-up from the seller who sent me this instead of my actual gift. She's wheezing between words. She thinks I'm being too charitable for the amount of Absolute Fucking Ugly this is. I have to gently talk her out of using the word "monstrosity" while messaging the seller asking what the hell happened here.

I tell her I need to apologize for harming her dignity with Floor 2 David, who thinks this fucking thing is my mom's idea of a great birthday gift for her to-be-28-year-old daughter.

My heart goes out to the poor soul who did actually order this cat totem and is lacking it on this lovely day.

[saintedbythestorm]

Only slept 4-5 hours again... god I hate when I get stuck in this bullshit.. 😮‍💨

[maybeicanbesaved]

just had to yell at two kids because they had the audacity to come dump the water i’ve been keeping out for the stray cats (which i go to great lengths to keep cold/cool throughout the day bc of the severe heat) & then proceed to try and throw the container up onto the roof over our door,, they didn’t know i was looking out the peephole as soon as i heard kids outside the door, because i happened to be in the kitchen at the time. yeah i don’t fucking think so. little shits. didn’t even apologize or anything, just went from brief shock to running off, probably to cry to their parent about the mean lady wahh. yeah good i wish their parent or whomeever would come knocking on my door to ‘confront’ me, because i sure as fuck have a lot to say to them

[2beebebetter]

My parents managed to lose 3 of my shirts and the covering for my tablet’s keyboard in the two days we’ve been in this fucking hotel #WELOVEIT