#i didn’t buy ticket insurance

[anne20055]

if they don’t post “Dan And Phil React To Interactive Introverts” at some point before the tit tour starts, i will actually refund my ticket.

[cyber69]

i was supposed to see one of my absolute favorite artists tomorrow night and she just canceled and i AM SO UPSET

[socialjusticeinamerica]

Firstly I’ve never seen a public school cafeteria that nice. That’s probably a private school or a very wealthy suburb.

Not only do teachers have to buy their own supplies but most buy lunches for multiple kids per day. That’s in addition to buying them clothes, especially winter clothes. They also buy the students supplies such as notebooks and writing instruments.

You really don’t know what hardship, misery, and suffering are until you’ve worked in a poor inner-city school. Children with no winter clothes walking to school in blizzards with flip-flops, t-shirts, and shorts. Children eating nothing outside of the food served at school. Every disease known to mankind rampaging through the building continually because nobody had healthcare. Children with all sorts of birth defects that could be remedied but aren’t because there’s no money or insurance. Students living in rented attics or basements that had only a small sink for bathing and food prep, and one toilet which wasn’t even in an enclosed room. Owning only one set of clothes that had to be washed in the sink nightly with just water because there was no soap let alone detergent. Living out of a car during blizzards that dropped several feet of snow. Poverty so bad it makes a single wide trailer in a shitty southern trailer park look luxurious.

Everyone who says the poor need to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps needs a punch in the face followed by a yearlong sentence to live in a Northeastern tenement (top floot). All these Republican millionaires in Congress who say aid to the poor would only make them more depended or that they’ll only waste it on booze, cigarettes, and scratch tickets should be sentenced to life in prison.

It is heartbreaking beyond words to see the absolute despair of the impoverished children in cities and not much better for the rural poor. The richest country on earth and we have the most poverty in the first world. A UN report in the late 2010’s said we had poverty as bad or worse than the third world. I didn’t need anyone to tell me that. I lived it and I spent half my life trying to help those mired in it.

All those who look down on the poor and downtrodden in this country can go f—k themselves with a rusty railroad spike. The absolute inhumanity and black hearted callousness among the rich and the Republican millionaires they elect is beyond sinful. You can’t be a Christian and not feed children in schools.

Half this country are worse off than feudal serfs. The oligarchs and their monstrous Republican puppets and right-wing fan boys should be given the same fate as the monarchy during the French Revolution. Something has to change soon either through policy or revolution.

[cb-writes-stuff]

I think my characters are too nice, patient, and forgiving. What if they were mean? What if they ran out of patience? What if they were annoyed with each other?

Hehehe… And the best part…

What if they then had to have dinner together?

Metacommentary below the cut because it wouldn’t fit in the tags.

A good novel has a back and forth, specifically between positive and negative moments. The idea is that if a scene starts positive, it should end negative, and vice versa. This keeps things from feeling stale or stagnating. But if the characters are always cordial and forgiving, then there’s no conflict to be resolved, and there’s no negative. That’s why utopian books and maybe some slice-of-life stuff is boring: nothing bad happens. I don’t like making my characters hurt each other, even in the tiniest of ways, but it makes the scenes interesting to read and interesting to write.

On the other hand, if the characters are always moody and abrasive, then the conflicts are never resolved, and theres no negative. So for the same reason as utopian literature and poorly written slice-of-lifes, teenage-angsty stories, dystopias, and anything grimdark are so unattractive: nothing good happens. (Again, only when it’s poorly written. There are examples of these things done well.) And if the world itself is unforgiving, then there’s never any hope.

What’s considered “positive” and “negative” is entirely dependent on context. Typically, positives are stronger in comparison to negatives; that is, it takes less positive to balance (or outweigh) negative. On a bright, sunny day with not a cloud in the sky, what’s one little raindrop? But when you’ve hit rock bottom, given up with nothing left to lose, that one ray of light can mean everything.

Let’s say a character just got a big promotion at work—that’s a positive. Okay, so we need to balance it out with a negative. So, he goes to the gas station, buys a lottery ticket, and doesn’t win. Doesn’t that just suck? No, it doesn’t suck. He can very easily move on from it. A better negative would be his car getting rear-ended while the boss was shaking his hand. Yes, he’s probably not worried financially, but he has to deal with his insurance company, find the person who rear-ended him, and he has to do something with the car. That’s not a problem he can just walk away from.

Let’s consider the opposite. A character is sent to prison for a horrible crime she didn’t commit. She couldn’t afford a good lawyer, the case was stacked against her. And just when she was about to start her new job. The interview went so well and everything. (Eh? See? Back and forth.) So a few days after the hearing, she’s sitting in her cell when the guard comes around—“Hey, turns out you were found innocent on that petty theft, so that’s a few months off your 70 to life.”. That is a near-meaningless positive. It is not something significant to her, and barely changes the situation at all. Instead, a better positive would be she’s sitting in her cell, when the guard comes around—“Mail call.” The guard slips her a letter. She opens it, and covers her mouth in teary-eyed shock. It’s from her boyfriend, and it says, “I’ll wait for you.”

This back-and-forth idea applies to whole chapters, too. If the chapters starts out negative, it should end positive.

(And yeah, I made this post instead of writing. Oh well.)

[grichel]

didn’t make it to the post office before closing but i paid my health insurance and i called the box office about these movie tickets, i just have to walk in the cold over to the theater to actually buy them but i’m gonna get myself burger reward so

[writinginthesecrettrees]

So I was reading a thing about “what made you cut off a friend for good” and one stuck out to me:

This dude was upset that his long-time friend from out of state didn’t come to his wedding. Friend couldn’t afford it. Dude said “I told him I’d cover travel and hotel room” like that solved it.

It reminded me of when I lived in Portland and worked at Fred Meyer. My mom used to ask me to come visit back home all the time. She’d offer to get me plane tickets and stuff.

It took me telling her “I would need you to cover the hourly wage I’d be missing for the duration of the visit to be able to afford it” for her to understand that… yeah, I could afford my life there, but there wasn’t a lot left over. I was making $13.25/hour with a guaranteed 40-hour week because I was assistant manager in the deli. (My wage was $1/hr more than the highest rate for a plain employee.) 2 weeks, after taxes, covered a little over my rent. I liked to be able to buy food and gas. I had union dues. I had healthcare costs. Car insurance, renters insurance. Utilities and cell phone. Trying to have at least a bit of savings as a buffer in case I got sick. Frankly, I’m lucky I didn’t have credit card or student loan debt on top of it all.

Sometimes, the loss of wages from taking time off is not something a person can afford. There is so much more to travel than just “flights and hotel.”

[imnotcryingyouare1]

I hate how easy to use and manipulate I am all anyone has to do is give me attention and I’d do anything for them I’ve spent so much money on a girl who I thought was my best friend because she’s been saying for years “I’ll pay you back when I get paid” she never paid me back

She messaged today saying she felt as if I used her for a trip to the shop because I didn’t want to get high at my aunts with my cousin and I’ve been distant but my cat go hit by a car on Christmas and I’ve been caring for him so sorry if I don’t have the time/ energy for any of them

The things they pressured me to do

Getting a tattoo

Smoking

Smoking weed

Doing edibles

Paying for her fuel

Buying vapes for them

Buying clothes

Harry styles merch

5sos merch

Paying for everything when together

Helping her lie about being pregnant

Buying pregnancy tests

Things I’ve done for her without asking for anything in return or bringing up when she never paid me back:

Harry styles tickets

5sos tickets

4 tickets to the zoo and amusement park

My mum helped pay her car insurance

Helped her with issues with her mum

I’ve also got tickets for the band new rules but I’ve decided I’m not going to bring her

[binders-and-beanies]

>be me

>applying for Medicaid for the 4th time, have to go in person

>physically live in a different county than I legally live in, so I have to drive an hour+

>every fuckdamn road in my area is closed which adds another half an hour ish

>times I was available to go this week included 1) today in the rain (and my car struggles w rain) or 2) friday when presale was supposed to drop for a maybe once in a lifetime show opportunity I didn’t wanna risk not getting

>choose the rain

>park in a garage a couple minute walk from where I’m going. Not allowed to bring a phone in county buildings so I can’t use gps

>dyspraxic

>parked right before the place opened but spent an hour walking around the city hopelessly lost, asking various people for directions and not understanding their directions, getting questioned by police etc

>did I mention it’s raining. Also I have a 2 day old tattoo (covered but ow)

>find the place and have to stand for another hour (also ow) (this place is literally for disabled people let me sit)

>instead of having me reapply they gave me another month for the previous application for reconsideration. Handed me paperwork to take w me (which was the whole point of going in person bc it was repeatedly not coming in the mail in time) so mission accomplished I guess but they added twice as much paperwork so who knows if that’s even everything

>walking back to my car and the aforementioned presale drops 2 days early

>crouch on the wet busy sidewalk and buy a ticket

>ok cool acquired but this was the whole reason I didn’t wait for a safer day to drive (and for my tattoo to be healed more)

>go home n arrange for the rest of the paperwork to be filled out by various people

>first time I’ve felt hopeful at having a shot at finishing an application but still don’t feel hopeful abt approval bc I’m not gonna meet the standards

>prob not gonna be insured any time soon but at least in 5 months I get to see the band I’ve wanted to see so bad for over a decade

>same band as the new tattoo btw

[mint-moon25]

BEAUTIFUL - PURPLES - FILL - THE - TOP - OF - MY

MOZILLA - FIREFOX - SO - GORGEOUS - ALSO YES

BECAME - LIKE - BRAVE - BROWSER - BLOCKS

ADS - SO - HACKERS - ARE - NOW - ATTACKING

FIREFOX - CAN’T - GET - IN - YOUTUBE

SO - USING - BRAVE - BROWSER - YES

MY - SAMSUNG - GALAXY - OLD - S SERIES

COLD - WEATHER - WENT - BERSERK

THROWING - AWAY - $1,999.99 - THUS

DEPENDENT - ON - INSURANCE

REPLACEMENTS

SO - BEING - IN - USA - AS - SHOPPERS

WE’RE - THROWING - AWAY - OUR - KR

KOREAN - SAMSUNG - SMARTPHONES

TUMBLR - OWNER 

CREATOR - OF - WORD PRESS

LIVES - IN - TEXAS - A - CASTLE - DOCTRINE

STATE - ANYONE - THREATENS - HIS HOME

DEADLY - FORCE - ENDS - THEIR - LIVES

TUMBLR - OFFICES - IN - MANHATTAN NY

AKA - NEW YORK - CITY - NEW YORK NY

NOT - CASTLE - DOCTRINE - STATE

MEANING - ANYONE - CAN - COME

AND - KILL - ALL - EMPLOYEES

NOT - STAND - YOUR - GROUND

LAWS - HIGHER - TAXES - THEY

SAID - PHONE - CALLS - 2 HELP

THEM - 4 SEASONS

RAIN - SNOW - EVERYTHING

SAME - POLICE - THAT - TOLD

PHIIPPIINES - 2 - GO - BACK 2 - WHERE

U - BELONG - WITH - HORRIBLE - UGLY

ACCENT - THE - JAPANESE - CAN YELL

AT - YOU - AS - LOUD - AS - THEY WANT

AS - AMERICANS - WE - HAVE - RIGHT

2 - MAKE - YOU - STARVE - WILL - YOU

ARE - IN - NEW YORK

YOU - ARE - NOT - ALLOWED GROCERY

YOU - CAN - BLEED - STREET - WITH

VAGINAL - BLEEDING

YOU - ARE - NOT - ALLOWED - FOOD

AND - DRINK - FR - RESTAURANTS

11 SEPTEMBER

BIRTHDAY - FERDINAND E MARCOS

AS - CHILD - HE - WARNED - ME ABOUT

OUR - ENEMIES - OUTSIDE - PILIPINAS

MET - 2 - MALES - THAT - DAY

THICK - CLOTHES - PROVIDED BY TAX

CAR - FUEL - SHOES - ALL - PROVIDED

BY - TAX

NEW YORK - NON-CASTLE - DOCTRINE

STATE - NOT - STAND - YOUR GROUND

AS - WE - WILL - PARALIZE - THESE

ARMED - AS - THEY - STEAL - YOUR

QUARTERS

THEIR - FIREMEN - WITH - AX

AS - THEY - PUSH - YOU - FR

YOUR - ELEVATORS

ILLEGAL - MISOGYNY

11 SEPT BOMBINGS

11 SEPT - WILL - HAPPEN - AGAIN

TUMBLR - OFFICES - ARE - IN - NEW YORK

LOTS - OF - CRIMINALS - LIVE - THERE YES

MANHATTAN - OR - NEW YORK - CITY

THEIR - BROADWAY - THEATRES - 2 - YES

EXPENSIVE - THE - USHERS - MISTREATED

ME - MISS SAIGON - TICKET - MALE YELLED

AT - ME - 2 - STOP - DANCING

SO - WENT - IN - FRONT - REMOVED - MY

FRONT - BLOUSE - AND - ORDERED WITH

BRITSH - FEMALE - TICKETS - WITHOUT A

BLOUSE - WASN’T - ARRESTED

TICKET - SALES - OF - BROADWAY THEATRES

THEY - DON’T - KNOW - ANYTHING - ABOUT

THEIR - SHOWS - THEY - JUST - TAKE - $$$$

THEIR - DANCERS

DARREN LEE

CRUISE - SHIPS - NOW

DIRECTOR - CHOREOGRAPHER

HE - PRETENDED - HE - DIDN’T - KNOW ME

ALL - THE - TIME

‘VICTOR - VICTORIA’ 

KISSED - ME - AND - ASKED - ME 2 MARRY

I - SAID - ‘YES’

LUNCH - TIME - HE - PRETENDED - HE

DOESN’T - KNOW - ME

WORE - SAME - COAT

SO - NEW YORK - SOLD - BY - DANISH

ME - ALSO - DENMARK

THEY’RE - MURDERERS - ROBBERS

BUYING - CENTRAL - PARK

PENTHOUSE

$250 MILLION

ORIGINAL - STATE - HAS - CHILDREN

DEMOCRATIC - PARTY

DEMOCRATS

NO - PUBLIX - NO - WALMART - THERE

AMAZON - GROCERY - RIPE - 4 - THAT

STATE - WE’LL - MAKE - CHANGES

LOST - LONG - POST - WILL - DO AGAIN

[thewul]

Big City Girl

She had looked concerned over the past days as the wedding date approached, she needed a new Hanbok for the wedding and so did he, and there was costs for the ceremony, she had some savings that she could use, and maybe he could borrow money from the old man and repay him later

He took her hands in his, there will be no need for that, I am a wealthy man he said, wealthy but how? I had always been but I wanted you to value me for myself and not for my wealth, now that it is done there is no need to hide anything anymore

I thought that this would look good with your dress, accessories are important you know, and he presented her with the HUGO BOSS chain gold plated watch in its coffret he had ordered on catalog from the store a few days ago, with your blue dress he said, the big city girl

She had suspected that he was, judging from the expensive gifts that she received and his always neatly dressed appearance, but he never mentioned anything about it and she had never asked him anything about it, whether he was wealthy or not didn’t change how she felt about him, and anything in life they could have with hard work, that was reasonable, that was what they needed not what they could do without

And its incredible all the things you can do without in life when you have true love, and how all the money in the world cannot buy a single moment of it, that was the best insurance for better or for worse that you didn’t face life as a long solitude

Money could neither buy love nor take it away, from those who put it and all the things that it meant for them beyond any considerations, not as a choice or even an engagement but the essence of who they are

That adversity couldn’t brake but only made stronger, for true love held such an immense defiance in the face of odds that it was truly the fabric of the invincible

She wiped the tears from her eyes with one of the table napkins, she had visited her family regularly in the small Gangwon village where she was from, but not like this, dressed as a model and with her future husband, a tall handsome man, she remembered when she had left years ago, on a rainy evening with a train ticket and few belongings to work at the noodle’s shop, to return now with the promise of all what life can hold that is good and meaningful

[furu]

I barely buy stuff. I pay rent, insurance, buy groceries, gym membership and bus tickets but I can barely afford it some months depending on my income 😐 Now there is an error with my paycheck and I’m getting paid less than I should. I will have like €130 left after paying rent and I don’t know how fast they’ll fix it. I can’t eat for a month with that? It’s okay because I can borrow money from my dad but I wish I didn’t have to

[coldcasescenario]

journal entry 07/12/23

You said to call next time. I kept thinking that I didn’t want to put my burdens on you. I went back and forth about it for a while. I mean, gosh, you’ve already done enough for me and you certainly don’t deserve to deal with the results of my idiocy. But then I thought about what I use for my own personal motivation, that you can’t win the lottery if you don’t even buy a ticket; and that you can’t fix your problems if you don’t even look at them. And as much as my cowardly instinct is to never reach out and just run away from my problems, saving them for another day, the more I keep running, the larger the shadow behind me grows. Sometimes I need to learn to bite the bullet and do the things I’m afraid of, like facing my problems head on, accepting the blame, and figuring out how to fix them. But all I ever fucking do is complain. I whine and complain that the world is cruel and unfair, even though I’ve caused all of my problems myself. I honestly don’t know how I am so incompetent with so many things, but very competent at continuing to keep making things worse and worse, every time I think it’s the worse it can get, and I think “oh this is rock bottom it can only go up from here”, I somehow manage to make it even worse. You think I’d get it through my thick head that my habits are unsustainable and that I’ll keep fucking everything up, but alas I never learn. So now I’ve led myself to a situation where I might actually become homeless, which means I’ll need someone to look after my cats, which means, what the fuck do I do because I literally cannot survive without them. And I’ve let my friends down, and I’m unreliable, and you might be the only person who is proud of me, but if I listed all the shitty things I’ve done, and how I’ve never learned from them, I’m just not sure how proud of me you’d still be. I don’t want to die, and I certainly don’t want my cats to have to live without me, but I don’t know what to do at this point. How did I get to age 23 and screw things up so badly. I can’t even talk to my fucking therapist because she doesn’t take my insurance anymore, and I already paid out of pocket for the past 6 months but can’t do that anymore, but also by the end of the day I might not even have insurance anymore so it wouldn’t really make a difference. And won’t that be fun?? It’s tough cause if I do what I know I need to do to start fresh, things will be really really really awful for a while, but eventually get much better. But if I just keep on going like this they’ll keep sucking at this rate indefinitely, and the main thing bringing me down will always remain. What would you choose? Ripping the bandaid off leaving a gaping open wound that you can treat for infection, or letting the bandaid stay and cover up the ick so you don’t have to deal with it for awhile? Both unappealing, different types of pain—sharp, searing, and momentous, versus deep aching sores picking at you internally causing constant discomfort…wouldn’t it be swell if art could provide income. But has it ever been that way? Money is the only way to get money. And pain is the only way to heal I guess. At a standstill. Waiting for the right sign. I’m not giving up on this life, but I sure am not feeling all too excited about it.

It’s funny how someone can want things to get better but we have to pay to exist. And we wonder why the suicide rates are so high, when you need to pay thousands of dollars insurance or out of pocket to get help. Even medically, if you get hurt, you’ll be in debt for the rest of your life. Chock it all up to capitalism? Or just take the damn blame and realize how fucked up we are. Not just as a society, but as individuals. You walked around Syracuse crying all day and no one said anything or asked if you were okay. Homeless people die on the streets of NY everyday and no one bats an eye. Why do we bother? I like to think it’s because there is good in humanity, but it’s just so rare that although its singularity makes it all the more special that it leaves an impact on whoever is touched by it, the rarity means the chances of getting touched by it are so small, and you may go through your whole life or die before you’re given the chance to experience it. I guess I got a taste of it from having people tolerate me, support me, and care for me. But the rarity from that one stranger who COULD save your life reaching out is unparalleled. They dont know you, and yet they think you’re worth it. I only ever had rico like that. He was always there when people weren’t. And Friday I’ll be picking up my passport and likely saying goodbye to him. Not because I want to, not because he’s going anywhere, but because he’s the sacrifice I need to make to create a better life for myself. How do you know when and what to sacrifice? How do you know it’s the right choice? I suppose we NEVER truly know when we’ve made the right choice. We just hope that eventually we find happiness and see it in others. But if we don’t, do we blame it on having made the wrong choice? Or do we place fault on all the other factors out of our control that the universal decided should play a role. What good is slitting your wrists if nothing changes? And what good is reaching out for help if you can’t afford it. I want there to be a good, I want there to be a reason, I just don’t see it.

Oh go ahead world, call me antisocial. Call me psychotic. Maybe I am. But you can’t put me in a mental hospital if there’s no one to pay the bills. And that’s how our mentally ill end up on the streets isn’t it?

We learn in school that Hinduism casts aside its untouchables to live on the streets, poor for their whole lives, unable to move up the ladder. We say how shocking that part of their culture is, how inhumane, how we couldn’t believe people could turn a blind eye. But how are we literally any different? If you voice your concerns too much, you’re an attention whore, pick me girl, or narcissist. If you don’t voice your concerns enough, you’re too lazy to get better, unmotivated, and unwilling to heal. To seek out a professional you need to be rich enough and motivated enough—and stable enough to attend your sessions. And have a method of transportation to get there, or have a computer AND wifi and a place to sit for online sessions. do you see how we have gentrified ourselves? We have divided ourselves into categories—and those without the financial stability to save themselves from their own humanity end up being cast aside, while those with money can treat their problems and go on to make more money.

But then there’s the issue of making money. You’re only allowed to make money in certain ways. Some ways are illegal, many are frowned upon, and the rest render you subject to the worlds judgment, and being placed in a box of stereotypes for the rest of your life. Which will you choose? Who are you truly versus who others will see you as? Are you ever equally both? Does anyone’s perception of you equate to your own perception of yourself?

Sometimes I want to talk to Van Gogh, or moonbin, or Jonghyun. Someone so pained that in their lives they were never appreciated, their art was never understood. Always an untouchable. Only after they died did their legacy bloom. And maybe that’s what drives the suicidal. The instant bone crush as the catalyst for their legacy to begin. But will they ever see it? And if their legacy never measures up to the drive that lead them into the dark, will they still have done it? Will the lack of pain have been enough? No, cause they can’t feel the lack of pain. So again, it’s useless. I don’t want everything to be useless. I mean how messed up do you have to be to think even suicide won’t end your pain. Life isn’t useless for everyone, but for those who are astray, they may never find its use, and they’ll stay in the dark where others long to be.

I don’t want to be in the dark. I don’t want to be like Van Gogh, or Moonbin, or Jonghyun. I want a legacy, sure, but I want to see my art be appreciated. I want to spread all the love and goodness that I have to others. Sometimes days just take their tolls on us, and we need others. Sometimes those days turn into weeks or months. Things might get better on their own, but what kind of perserverence let’s life take control of them?

I hope my struggles will turn into more motivation. More music. More love. More sharing joy. I hope they’ll make me a better person. I just need some help in not repeating the same mistakes.

[kaiwritesgood]

“Object” Assignment

               My parents met on the Washington D.C. Metro – the Orange Line train. Years later, my brother and I would become accustomed to spending 24 hours on an Amtrak train headed from D.C. to West Palm Beach, Florida. In my teens, I forced my friends to pick me up and drop me off at the appropriate Metro station. I had a dormant license as my dad provided me with an endless supply of SmartTrip cards.                I learned at a young age that cars were expensive, insurance was just as expensive, and teenagers could not be trusted behind the wheel. I would grow tired of arguing that, and I’d quickly run out of sources and statistics to support my point, which was that I could be trusted, and I was deserving. My friends were not good drivers. And my classmates frequently got into accidents, documented on the local news.                My 16-year-old-self had no idea I would not receive my first car until age 23, nine months into the first year of the pandemic.                By 2020, I had been living in Pittsburgh for six years, and I relied on the Port Authority (now Pittsburgh Regional Transit) to get me anywhere and everywhere. I had enough practice. And the system was smaller than the one I was used to. But I would soon find that this bus system was riddled with problems.                The bus was frequently late and often a no-show. Sometimes, and infuriatingly, it would come too early. There was only one downtown location for obtaining and refilling a bus pass.                When the pandemic came, I feared these buses more than usual. I refused to use them unless necessary and relied on my boyfriend and his Kia Forte to get me around.                Then my mom called one afternoon.                “Ron’s upgrading his car,” she said. I felt my face light up.

               Wait, I thought. I don’t know shit about cars.                Two weeks, and $5,000 later, I had a black, 2016 Honda HR-V parallel parked in front of my apartment. My first few trips were to the craft store. After that, the grocery store, then my friend’s places, then to the mall, then to restaurants, and even across the state and back. I started to enjoy traveling on my own schedule, picking up my friends, shopping at odd times, even sitting in drive-thru’s became almost “fun”.                But when school and work resumed, I’d soon realize that I really don’t like to drive.                By the end of the first year of ownership, I had been in two accidents, collected a wide range of parking tickets, fell behind on insurance payments, spent a fortune on gas, locked my keys in the trunk, then lost the set of backup keys. Having a car was starting to feel like having a child.                The car provided me with only a level of privacy money could buy and at the same time, it exposed me to a world of new dangers. Being behind the wheel makes me think of all the many auto-related ways people die that I had never thought of before. A moment never went by where I didn’t miss and long for the train.                The car operated on so many extremes; it expanded and limited the places I could go, it was safe and dangerous at the same time, and it felt like it either went very fast or very slow. I felt conflicted about this realization though because I had been asking for a car since I got my license at 17. I almost felt like my complaints had a tinge of privilege in them. I owned one car that was completely paid off, it was even black inside and out like I preferred. I had access to two cars, if you included my boyfriend’s. And in today’s economy, I knew a two-car household was considered a luxury to many people. Here I was, complaining, about having too much.                Even though the act of driving irritated me, I recognized the importance of the car. And after owning it for only two years, I can’t imagine not having it. And maybe the reliance on it is what I resent – the conditions that forced me into driving. America was built for cars and planes, not trains. To an adult who grew up on trains, and religiously watched Thomas the Train, this was heartbreaking.                But I love my car. It’s my first car. And I’ll never have another first car. I’ve customized it. I’ve stuck pins in the upholstery, stickers on the sun visor, and hung keychains from the rearview mirror. I slapped a Maryland crab magnet on the back next to the holographic license plate frame I bought for it from Walmart. There’s French Toast Crunch pieces lodged under the backseat, and a dent in the driver’s side I got when a lady hit me on a side street in Rosslyn, Virginia. My prized collection of fast-food napkins and masks stuffed in the glove compartment, expired library books in the passenger storage pocket, and my Animal Crossing keychain dangling from the rearview (it’s Blathers). It’s one-of-a-kind, an extension of myself.                I can’t tell you how fast it goes, or how many miles are on it without starting it first. I’m not sure what kind of gas it takes, I just know it’s not diesel. It’s taught me a lot about the sanctity of life, and how important it is to be patient, and what people truly mean when they say, “DRIVE SAFE.”                Every day, I remind myself it is a privilege to drive, although it’s treated as a right. There are (not enough) consequences to unsafe driving and the road is a communal space. It is to be shared, not ruled.                Every day, I miss the freedom of the train and not having to worry about parking. Nowadays, I only drive three days a week. And that is more than enough for me.

[marvelmyriad]

God damn it.

That was the only thought that was going through James’ mind when he watched the red and blue lights appear behind him.  His right hand slammed down on the wheel in frustration and he was just grateful that Ana wasn’t in the car with him.  He’d insisted that she stay home for this, knowing that he was going to be breaking into a science facility that specifically dealt with anti-Russian offensive measures.  The ones that he’d been trying to lose in his fairly high speed chase had gotten lost along the way to trying to catch him.  At least, he hoped so.  He didn’t exactly see any backroads that they could have taken instead to get ahead and cut him off.  The only turn off that he had passed in miles ultimately ended in a dead end….but unfortunately, the space was just big enough to fit the cop’s car.

They’d been in America for a little under a year by then.  All things considered, both of them were doing fairly well.  The only issue was that they had been living mostly off of the power of bribery.  As it turned out, if you had enough money to throw at someone, they would be willing to look past a lot and let you stay in a house, or buy a car, without any prerequisite.  Including ID.  Which he hadn’t exactly been eager to run and get, so he was definitely lacking in that department.  He also hadn’t been in America long enough to establish any kind of contacts or connects.  Trusting their neighbors wasn’t even an option, let alone trying to build an entire network of allies that had the connections to get them fake identification.

He briefly contemplated taking his hearing aid out and setting it in the glove box, trying to pass off that he simply couldn’t hear what was being said.  James also considered trying to pretend that he didn’t speak English, but given the area and how rural it was…that might have been a poor choice based on the possible xenophobia alone.

The last thing he considered was just waiting for the cop to get out of his car so that he could speed off and get the leg up on the guy.

Ultimately, he took a deep breath and at least appeared to be completely composed, even if his mind was still frantically searching for an escape route that would actually work.  He rolled his window down as the man approached and forced a small, polite smile.

Great.  This guy was already in a piss-poor mood.  Without any ID, insurance or registration, anything that James said could and would be used against him long before they ever got to court of law.  He knew that much about police, and as far as he had seen, it was a pretty universal experience.

He kept his hands on the wheel of the car, his shoulders squaring without him even thinking about it.  His voice lacked any distinct accent to it as he spoke in return.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he ignored the way his tongue burned as he tried to appeal to the cop’s ego with the respectful title, “I’m trying to get home to my daughter.  Her mom just up and left her alone, and she’s sick.  I-I didn’t even grab anything on my way out…” James did his best to seem flustered about it, even running his fingers through his hair.  “Look, if you need to write me a ticket, fine, hell, I can just give you the money for it right here and now.  Always have my money clip in my jacket.”

@marvelmyriad gets a starter !

MORNINGS WERE FOR COFFEE AND CONTEMPLATION. So how was it that he was about to pull over someone...having NOT done both? He'd been on his way to the station, and when he saw the car zooming past him.

"You gotta be FUCKING kidding me."

Hopper flipped on the sirens of his Chevy Blazer, taking off through the intersection, and following him down the road. It quickly went from the small town, to a more rural area, the road framed by trees. It was a beautiful place for a drive, but Jim Hopper's face read nothing by annoyance when the care finally stopped and pulled off to the side. Letting out a huff, he opened the door abruptly, climbing out of the vehicle, and pulling out the pad he used for writing tickets.

"Listen I don't know who you are and where you come from, but around here we don't do this speeding shit till I've had at least two cups of coffee." He didn't recognize the car, and in a town like this, Hopper recognized just about everyone. Looking at the man in the driver's seat he could tell he'd never seen this man a day in his life. "While you get that license and registration out, wanna tell me where your goin so fast?"

[mamamittens]

Put on a Show (+18)

BuggyXReader (Gender neutral attempt)

I tried really hard to write full on smut without an assigned gender, but don't be surprised if it makes more sense as AFAB (sorry, but for safety reasons you really should not be shoving anything up your ass without prep, pro tip). There is a general assumption reader is very flexible and strong. As should be expected of someone who regularly does aerial silks.

I was lowkey making a joke with myself when the idea first popped up, but if nothing else, this is descent smut practice. Hope the Buggy simps appreciate.

Warnings: Voyeurism, grinding, dirty talk, authority kink, definitely a lowkey bondage kink, Buggy is an ass man here, unconfirmed/no prep anal/or/vaginal sex, and creampie.

Oh! By the way, a "Shill" in a circus is someone that pretends to buy tickets or participate in a show/event/game to remove anxiety for someone else being first so they can make more money! Seemed fitting for a nickname at the time ;)

@lilmissofficial hope this has you convinced lmao (let me know if you'd like me to remove this tag btw, I couldn't ask before I posted)

Word Count: 2,137

There were times you wanted to take the immaculate silk ribbons you were intimately familiar with and use them to strangle the absolute fuck out of your captain.

The prideful man likely thought you and everyone else was dumb as a rock with his piss poor excuses about your presence on his crew. You didn’t really have much in the way of fighting experience. And sure, your impressive upper body strength could be considered an asset—but it was painfully obvious that you were not a part of his crew because of your strength. No. You were definitely on board solely because Captain Buggy was massively turned on by your command of endless silk fabric.

If you could see the hard on while spinning and tumbling in and out of intricate knots, there was no way anyone else was missing that. Somehow no one was saying anything though, which told you that either there were bets going around or everyone was literally that stupid. Including your captain.

But no.

According to your illustrious captain, you were a secret ace in the hole. A veritable death from above!

And to be quite honest, you were ready for the pretense to be done with already before one of you dies from figurative blue balls. There are only so many times you can provocatively do the splits at perfect eye level for Buggy’s elevated vantage point before you gave up on life itself. It might be a little easier on both of you if he didn’t insist on watching over every practice performance you did as well.

But no. As captain, it was his duty to insure the safety of his whole crew.

In truth, he clearly just had a voyeurism kink.

And you had enough of his shit. It was time for Buggy to either man up and confess or stop watching your ass like it was made of solid gold.

Which lead you to this moment. Staring up the seemingly endless twin length of silk as you tested its anchoring high above. It would be very un-sexy of you to smash your face into the ground instead of his chest after all.

There was a flash of color in one of the higher balconies, signaling the arrival of your captain. At times, you suspected he haunted the practice area specifically to ensure he never missed a performance. But it was just as likely he was using Haki to track the general location of his crew. Seemed sneaky enough for him, even though he clearly thrived in the sheer drama of a show. And you were about to put on one hell of a show for him.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped the fabric in both hands and lifted yourself up. Legs swinging out to catch on the silk in wide loops around your legs, hooking into convenient footholds under your feet. Twelve feet in the air, you pushed out your chest, hands keeping you from tumbling forward, spine arched perfectly as you dipped your head back. Slowly, you pushed your body’s half circle form until you were standing again. Then tipping back into a spin so you dropped several feet.

Catching on a knot of silk around your leg just in time.

Slowly, sensually, you twisted and carefully ascended again. Taking care to occasionally perform a split or spin on the silk so it wasn’t obvious what you were doing. And then you were several feet above Buggy, pretending like you hadn’t seen him yet. Completely unaware that your deep split with loops of silk around your thighs and calves put you on a perfect display.

Then you dropped suddenly, sliding down until you caught the silk in your hands, arching your body back and up so you were face to face with Buggy’s shocked expression. You gave a sly grin, pushing out until your noses almost touched.

“Enjoying the show, captain?” You whispered, watching his face flush a deep red that almost matched his nose. He was unusually dressed down today. Carefully crafted ‘captain’ outfit nowhere to be seen. A simple stripped shirt and baggy pants he clearly preferred to sleep in. Blue silky hair pulled back into a ponytail instead of fixed into his hat. He still had on lipstick though, which was almost reassuring.

Even with the distinctive tattoo on Buggy’s face, he looked almost naked without the rest of his usual outfit.

Blustering and surprised, Buggy stammered for a moment.

“O-Of course! Y-You’re as skilled as ever! As expected of one of my valued crew members!” Buggy declared.

You continued giving him a sly smile, eyes narrowing as you slowly grew closer, head tilting to avoid his nose.

Stopping just shy of his lips.

“I’m glad you like the show. Captain.” You breathed out softly before pulling back suddenly. You almost laughed as his body swayed forward unconsciously. “I suppose I should get back to it though. I’m sure you have more important things to be doing right now.” You teased airily, swinging your upper body back around.

Conveniently displaying your ass at perfect eye level.

You yelped at the sudden grip on your inner thigh, yanking you back towards your captain. A single, disembodied gloved hand firmly latched over the tense muscle. Surprised, you tilted back again, arching your spine to face Buggy at an appropriately conversational angle.

He looked flustered and pissed.

“And what the hell was that? You trying to test my patience, Shill?” Buggy hissed. You laughed a little, shaking your head.

“No! Of course not, captain! Just practicing control for the next show is all!” You excused. Buggy’s eyes narrowed further. His hand squeezed harder, jerking you closer.

“I didn’t think you were making so little you’d need to work for extra tips, Shill.” Buggy growled. Buggy… he looked genuinely pissed at the idea you’d kiss audience members as part of an act.

Taking leave of your senses, you cracked a wide smile you knew would piss him off.

“Of course not, captain! But you specifically seem to enjoy a little teasing as part of a show so~?” You sighed, tilting your head and pressing your luck even further, “Not that you ever want to participate—But if it bothers you that much, I can go back to keeping my distance.” You started to return to your previous position, back complaining from holding the pose for so long. The hand on your thigh slid over to grab your ass, Buggy’s other hand catching your head to pull you in close.

Buggy’s lips slid over yours in a harsh press, face noticeably hot as he locked eyes with you. He pulled you in closer still, your legs untangling from the silk so you fell forward, sending him into his back. He grunted but refused to let go or relinquish the kiss. Finally, you pulled away, hands braced beside his head as you looked down in shock. His lipstick was smeared around his lips, undoubtedly coloring your own as well.

“I don’t recall saying you could stop.” Buggy grit his teeth, hands firmly planting on your ass to squeeze the toned muscle.

“You never really said to start either, captain.” You mumbled, still a little shell shocked that he actually made a fucking move. Maybe there was hope for the both of you yet. Buggy smirked.

“Cocky little shit.” His hips bucked under you, grinding his erection against you, “This clear enough instruction?”

“I don’t know… Mm—” You moaned softly at the growing heat in your body from the harsh friction through your leotard, “I-I’d hate to disappoint you.”

Buggy flipped you over, hands reluctantly leaving your body to hold himself over you, hips still grinding against you.

“If I’d known all it would take was a little hands on action, I would have done it while you were tangled in the air.” Buggy hissed, “You look so fucking pretty in silk, you know that? I think this is a close second though—hng! Yeah. Keep making that face, Shill~”

Buggy gripped your thigh, guiding your leg over his waist. Clothed erection grinding into you hard enough to draw a choked moan. You bit your lip as Buggy smeared his lipstick over your exposed neck, kissing the skin with hot, open bites. Your heart was pounding against your chest with every harsh pass of his cock, the friction nearly shoving you up the floor if it wasn’t for his firm grip on your body.

“C-Captain—Fuck~!” Buggy laughed at you, tongue eagerly sliding over your panting cries.

“I can feel how hot you are for me. Good.” Buggy slipped his hands under your ass again, firmly grinding his cock into you as he ruined your leotard with his precum even through his pants, “Keep being so sweet and maybe we’ll do an encore.” Buggy joked despite the raging hard on he kept forcing to slide between your thighs.

He pinned you to the floor with his whole body, fingers sliding the fabric covering your crotch to the side for a more intimate grind. His own pants falling down enough so his cock began to smear precum over your thighs and sex. Thickness trapped between your bodies as he went faster. Pressing his body into yours harder.

“Oh-oh—oh~! Fuck Buggy please! Hng—I-I ca-can’t keep—Ah~!” You shook, hot liquid smearing between your bodies as you came. The heat seeping between you both as Buggy kissed you again, tongue deep in your throat as his cock twitched, cumming hard in the wake of your cries. His hips kept grinding into you, prolonging the sparks along your skin as he tried to kiss you even deeper.

Reluctantly he pulled back.

“Hah… Have I made myself clear yet?” Buggy asked, watching with heated eyes as your mixed cum pooled underneath you, sliding between your thighs and cheeks.

Panting, you smirked, instantly earning a warning look from Buggy.

“I-I don’t know Captain… I think the message needs to sink in a little… deeper.” Buggy grinned, canting his hips back.

“If that’s what it takes~” Buggy cooed, before thrusting his cock to the base. You screamed in surprise, the sound muffled in an unexpected kiss, “I thought this is what you wanted? Can’t handle taking orders? That’s considered mutiny, don’t you know?” Buggy licked up your neck as you sucked in a sharp breath. Your body burning from the sudden thickness.

Buggy pulled out, breathing in your sigh of relief before snapping his hips back to slam into your ass.

You moaned in sharp bursts as he fucked you hard, driving his cock as deep as it would go before his hips bounced off your ass.

“Ah! A-Ah~! Ha~h! C-Ca-ah~pta-ahn~!”

“Fuck that’s more like it~! Not so cocky now, are you?” Buggy laughed, “Is it too much? What are you going to do about it? Cum? Good.” Buggy drove his hips faster, delighted as you keened.

“B-Buggy~! Ah-hnnngg—fuck oh-oh-oooh~!” Your mind was in shambles as your body steadily began to burn in a much different way. Fire growing in your stomach as he split you open, eagerly fucking you through another orgasm.

You screamed as the pleasure took a sharp turn under the ceaseless onslaught. Your hips burned as Buggy pushed your thighs apart into a split, hips forcing your waist up so his cock drove your lower spine down into the floor. Despite not appearing very strong, his grip was unmoving, pinning you in place for his cock to drive you over the edge again.

“Who’s your captain? Who’s fucking you this good? Tell me.” Buggy spat, hot breathe beating over your exposed neck.

“Y-Y-oh—fffuck it’s you B-Buggy~!” You rambled, moans breaking your sentence apart until it was almost incomprehensible.

“That’s fucking right it is! C’mon, show me how good you feel—” Buggy kissed you deeply again, griding his cock against your sweet spot, “One more time for the finale, Shill. I wanna feel you squeeze around me again.”

You slammed your head back against the floor as you shook in his hold, unable to move away from the burning of his cock in your walls.

Finally, Buggy slammed his hips against you, cock spilling deep as he groaned into your lips with gritted teeth. Hissing as you squeezed him hard with a soft moan.

“F-Fuck… I-I’m guessing this is a more��� hah… private show?” You laughed, body sinking down in exhaustion.

Buggy gave a sharp laugh.

“Ain’t no one got enough berri to pay for a show like this.” Buggy kissed your cheek gently before whispering into your ear, “I expect a repeat performance though. Can’t afford for you to get rusty. Captain’s orders.”

“Yes, Captain.” You promised with a dizzy grin.

Thank fuck you knew how to put on a show.

The encore was to die for.

[aturnoftheearth]

i got 2 tickets row 42 seats 25 and 26. bless my mom shes suggesting ways to make the trip work. i also got ticket insurance because i am paranoid about basically any ticket i dont buy week-of

THE WAY THAT YOURE ONE ROW IN FRONT OF SOME OF THE TICKETS WE GOT. BUT ITS SEATS 69-72 . no literally i’m so so scared i don’t even have a way of getting there yet or a headcount of who’s all going in my family but i know how much those tickets resale for and i didn’t want to risk it 😭😭