#now they send me outside less
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serial-unaliver · 5 months ago
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no one at work believes me when I say "I do terribly in the heat" until I come inside after being in the heat and everyone's asking me what happened to me because I look so visibly fucked up
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opens-up-4-nobody · 7 months ago
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#my dads back in ohio again so im back on my own. i still feel terrible but at least i have a plan#i have 2 weeks of this semester left. so i have to not fail my genomics exam and work on a group project plus grade a bunch#shouldnt be too hard but everything makes me so tired rn and i just feel this barrier between myself and everything else#even when my dad was here. i just dont kno how to feel happy. just varied levels of stress#but after the semester is over ill have to find a job for the summer. which super stresses me out bc i havent really had a real job outside#academia and im worried about how stressful ill find it bc im sure its gonna suck but at least i wont have to work on my project#i just think if i had a normal job that doesnt dominate every aspect of my life id feel a little less terrible. or at least i wouldnt send#myself spiralling so much. if i stay here i might not survive it#but what if ill just make myself miserable wherever i am? i dunno. but im gonna try to find a non academic job this summer with the epa or#maybe the usgs. i mean ive gota a bachelor's and a masters in environmental topics. that's gotta count for something#just get a government job. pray for a not terrible set of coworkers. and build something from there#it just sucks bc i feel like everythings falling apart and like i kno if i gave it my all i could pull thru and get my phd but im just so#tired of struggling against something everyone else can do. i just cant read at a level appropriate for what im doing#ugh. i dont wanna study for genomics. i just wanna sleep. i just wish i wasn't in this position#and now i a baby about it. i mean my sisters r in similar positions bc the youngest is currently looking for a teaching job. and my middle#sister is looking to move to new york city in the next 6 months and she'd be quitting her job for that. so we're all sorta in flux#i just wanna not be flailing. not watch my hopes and dreams collapse. be excited about anything. im just sad bc i have to make hard choices#even if i know theyre the right ones to make if i want to continue to exist. sometimes u cant have the things u wany.#and that sucks and i hate it. theme of the year: sometimes life sucks and theres nothing u can do abt it#unrelated
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kyluxtrashpit · 1 year ago
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I feel like half my text posts here are apologizing for not being around/responsive but I also feel the need to do it again. I see your tags, your asks, all of it, and I really appreciate them and I’m sorry I haven’t answered anything recently
Between losing old cat 2 weeks ago and the long illness leading up, I’m just still coming to terms with things I feel like. I’m mostly okay, but it comes in waves, and I still really miss her. I hope I’ll be up to some regular internet actives soon, I know it’s been a long time, but I really mean it when I say I appreciate the interaction and I really want to interact back as soon as my brain is in a better place
So yeah idk I don’t have a good closing, I just feel bad (and I’m super hormonal right now so I’m in my feels about literally everything at the moment lmao) so I just wanted to make this post to say I see you, I appreciate you, please don’t give up on me, and I really hope that this funk will lift soon so I can interact back as you all deserve
As a consolation, pls look at her sleepy little face, she was so good
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princessmyriad · 15 days ago
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#personal#it feels like im not allowed to complain about my own life on my own blog#or at least that if im allowed to that it seems very firstworld problem very selfish very not appropriate with all thats going on#that people will and do think less of me for expressing my own sadness and frustrations because theres no way it compares#to a lot of peoples very big and very real problems#but im so fucking sick of being poor and small. all ive had to eat today is 2min noodles roughly 10 hours ago#and all ill get tomorrow is a bowl of 2min noodles but ittl be another 15 or so hours until its the most reasonable to eat that#thats the real girlmath and then thats the last of my noodles. that leaves me with one (1) small tin of tuna#which might end up being tonights intermediary food if i really cant wait 15 nore hours for my next noodles but is supposed to be#the one meal of the day after tomorrow. so if i eat it too soon then i have even more time that i just dont fucking eat#im so sick to death of being in this position. like its literally killing me and theres fuck all i can do to make it better#ive tried. and i try and i try and i try but i can never afford anything#my landagent keeps sending me textx asking when theyll see a patment for my $50 water bill#i have to stop myself from texting back every time. youll see payment when im not spending literally 75% of my pay on rent alone#when i can afford to buy food and bills at the same time. whn i dont feel like kms-ing would be better than paying you my rent every frtnite#i crave a burger so bad i cant make myself do any tasks. i cant start or continue any crafts or chores because all im thinking about#is a burger like a blorbo rotating in my mind alongside the background noise that i wont get a burger and will only get noodles but not for#hours. a whole days worth of hours almost#my shitawful roomate is back and i have to play nice but he gives me the same feelings my abusive mother did. im scared to leave my room#in the safeplace house ive spent the last two years building for myself. this feels awful. things were all going so right and now#all of a sudden theyre all going as wrong as possible and im struggling so much. with no one to help. no one cares enough to help#the few people i do have are wrapped up in their own lives. which i get. but it doesnt take away the hurt of dealing with it all alone again#lot of momma trauma coming up with the end of eclipse season and i thought i was handling it. now i just feel fucking awful all the time#like ik healing isnt linear but the roomate triggers so hard things i thought i had processed and was on top of#would a burger fix that? no but itd atleast give me something to emotionally lean on for strength though it. but all ive got is noodles#24 hour apart one meal per day noodles. and tomorrow is my last pack. my only solace lately is that ive been invited to my first ever rave#or my first real rave anyway ive only been to one other 'edm event' that was not really a rave of any scale it was like 25 people#but its a halloween rave so im hoping for spooky fun dancetimes at least theres that. im out of data and spotifyprem so i havent been able#to take my silly little mental health walks bc theres zero chance im doing that without music and so itll be noce to get outside fr the rave#anyway. im doing very poorly i appreciate you few who reached out while i wasnt active but i expect ill continue to do poorly for some time
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theokusgallery · 3 months ago
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I see it now! I was literally reading and listening about their relationship in your podcast! i really thought that Statice and Nick DESPISE eachother. This AU is interesting, I love it vry vry much. Im not fond of it at first because I can't really Imagine Basil. Basil doing all of that stuff. because he's my favorite character(and I can't really see him being like that). But I eventually learnt to separate them and sees Nick as his own character. Like an actual oc(Still sees him a little bit as Basil if you understand what I mean)( can't wait when Sunny's other friend gets revealed or maybe the parents. *Maybe* they're not that important to the story but the CURIOSITY IS TOO STRONG AND SORRY FOR YAPPING HSJSKAK IT MUST BE TIRING TO ANSWER ANY OF MY QUESTIONS I WON'T DO THAT AGAIN)(Also excuse my grammar also, english is not my first language 😣)
-Anon from the previous previous post.
(the aura I felt after asking that is unimaginable. I used to be so shy to ask anything on people's blog so Im a *bit* proud of my confidence!)
Oh I see !!
Yeah Nick is... more or less an OC, he's got very little to do with Basil now. I refuse to cut of all ties to OMORI/Basil because it's very important to his origins and taking that from him would be taking out a lot of how I personally see him, but, well... He wasn't exactly based off of normal in-game Basil, either, so it makes sense that he's very different. He looks different, acts different, has a different family, age, personality, story, nationality even, different interests... He's like, 70% OC and 30% OMORI AU. Basil is also my favorite character, and that's not how I see him at all either.
I understand why you thought Statice and Nick hated each other — to be fair, there aren't a lot of people who don't hate Nick, lol. Being around him and knowing why he is the way he is makes it easier to love him, though.
#also no parents are important to the story — in nick and statice's case their abscence is what counts even#so i dont think they'll ever even get introduced#i'll do something about the third friend eventually when i'm motivated enough but tbh--#--that plotline is one of the earliest things i worked out about the AU back when it was really just an outlet for venting#so it's not very detailed. i have a very good idea of the events but. yeah since it was for vent purposes and im better now--#--i guess i dont. really want to think about it anymore. lots of things have changed in my brain since november...#i like playing with arsenic and sunny like dolls. it's less about having a concrete storyline and more about playing around with dynamics.#i've always been a slice-of-life person and this is no exception... i'd rather just take snippets of their lives to think about#i like the more mundane aspects. i like putting them in different circumstances and seeing how they'd act#but i'm not super interested in making this a very structured thing with a beginning then story then ending#this au is very personal to me so i guess i like thinking about it and explaining things about it more than i like. making Content for it#there's a difference between Content im giving people and what i do with that AU. so it doesnt end up looking very logical or structured#and it's hard to understand some things if you're from the outside looking in (like statice and nick's relationship for instance)#most of the characterization and info is hidden away in discord chats. sorry everyone#btw ! PLEASE dont be afraid to send more asks i LOVE getting asks like you wouldnt believe#you're not annoying for asking about things i promise !!!!#i love talking about them ! so much !!!#if someone gives me an occasion to talk about them i will NEVER SHUT UP (as im sure you've come to realize by now)#i love asks !!!!!#arsenic#rant#ask#anon
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welcometogrouchland · 1 year ago
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Thought about Damian and Dick's dynamic for too long and now I need to level a city block
#ramblings of a lunatic#yes I'm still having comics brainrot just lesser now (after 1 (one) issue of a comic I didn't like lmao)#I'm specifically thinking about. is it issue 6?? of the joshua williamson robin run with damian#and the bit where dick gives him a special escrima stick Alfred made for him with ''against the world'' carved into it#and how he purposely lets damian escape and does the whole fake ''ohh nooo he's escaping someone come help *wink* routine''#I'm gonna combust!!!!#you could fix batman comics (/j) to me by just splitting the fam up a bit#you have two batgirls and two robins rn right?#well send damian and steph to bludhaven where they can team up with dick (ala the grant morrison run but dick is still Nightwing)#and then let cass and tim be bruce's supporting cast!!! less juggling to do and allows for more in-depth exploration of specific dynamics#also solves the issue of damian complimenting dick excellently but not having the same base-level rapport with bruce#just have damian finally conclude that he doesn't want to be batman and that him as robin doesn't work when he's with bruce#something about the idea that robin takes care of batman as much batman takes care of robin and that's not really bruce and damians dynamic#and as for Steph in bludhaven- she's colleged aged now! let her go to college in bludhaven#let her have the fun balancing act adventures from her solo series and again tackle her feelings of being an outsider#(also re-establish her and damians friendship. i miss them </3)#where's jason you ask? in space
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trollbreak · 1 year ago
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One of these days I’m gonna actually make beastly art in like his actual colors but um. I’m having fun returning to my comfy play scape lately <3
#doing shading studies on skulls for the funsies was such a tangible thing in how I do lineless art now#so like I somewhere got going drawing on index cards bc they’re less space to fill than a full page and thus less intimidating. that became#drawing silhouetted buildings and horizons against a gradient sky- I used roughly cut masking tape to have clean sun/moon and if I wanted#other clean lines. while I was staying w my grandma for a while I went oh shit I could do this digitally and that’s when I started getting#into digital art outside of just tracing photos exclusively. started playing with silly doodles digitally and somewhere along the line#wanted to draw teeth bc why not. struggled and didn’t like the result- tried again a few days in a row. liked how I’d improved but wasn’t#satisfied. so I saved an image of a skull lowered the opacity and originally was gonna trace the teeth but that got boring so like. I used#white to mark out the brightest points on the skull. a light grey for the next brightest. rinse and repeat until the whole thing is covered#and I’d do that for ages. like a year or two I think. I’d done other art too but the skulls and doing the same process with selfies was a#fun way to burn a lot of time and to just. have an ongoing project I could return to. a ways FURTHER down the line I was like ah damn. I’m#real happy with these but since I just grabbed images off whatever search engine idk if it’s ok for me to post these especially since I#wouldn’t even know who to credit anymore. so eventually I just sorta. stopped#but ummmm if u hit me up I can send u some of my skull study whatever’s and u can peek at how I mean they massively affected my process and#how I shade and stuff. that was like my whole learning process with shading outside of like. do line under the chin and the simplest things#that follow that train of thought. those skulls 🤝 buddy. rewired my brain and I’m vibin w it
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jvzebel-x · 1 year ago
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🦋
#so im doing a lot of study on mushrooms again lmao. for medication purposes.#&its reminding me of the insulin thing that was going around here&my immediate dislike of it#&while i stand by my opinion on the fact that no one who needs insulin to survive would ever handwave it as easy to make#i am once again reminded of the time period(s) that i have obsessed over making everything from pain medication#to chemo equivalents now that i still: 1-- cannot handle it&2-- dont have insurance to cover alternatives#&i still think its rude as fuck to pretend any form of medication is easy to make i do send my love to anyone needing to#experiment on themselves like fucking labrats bc the alternative is slow&painful (or fast&painful) death lmao.#... anyway im thinking about growing chaga mushrooms. i never did finish setting up the garden room bc health+monetary constraints lmao#but im reorganizing priorities more or less right now lmao&thinking maybe overhauling the patio+garden room should be higher on the list.#im pretty sure im thinking about the insulin thing right now bc i still feel a bit hypocritical to be so against bathroom insulin#when i do this shit lmao but also im like. working exclusively w plants. so like?#... actually im fixating on a weird vague memory that means less than nothing in the grand scheme of (my personal&immediate) things#bc focusing on almost any other facet of this outside of research+application makes my head spin&my blood pressure spike lmao.#... &also runs the risk in ending w molotov cocktails being tossed around if i think on shit too long. metaphorically. of course. lmao.
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todayisafridaynight · 1 year ago
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can i remind you guys of my Masumi Is Daigo’s Upteenth Father propaganda because i think they could pretty girls together <- this sounds insane but i swear this makes sense read my tags boy
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nevertrustablueberry · 2 years ago
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oh god oh god i hate organising events why can’t people keep to timelines that they promise
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albonium · 2 months ago
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being treated as a criminal every time i have to get my meds at the pharmacy isn't fun
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littlelamy · 6 days ago
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boat scene with rafe
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requested by @gibson-g1rl l <3 😘 part 2
credits: oysters png from @saizun , and amazing gifs from @rafeyscurtainbangs
The boat rocks beneath you as you step toward where Rafe sits bound against the wall, looking both furious and oddly vulnerable. You catch his eye as you enter the room, holding a small packet of aspirin and a plate of food. His eyebrows lift slightly in surprise, but his cocky smirk returns almost immediately.
“Look who’s here to take care of me,” he drawls, his voice dripping with that familiar teasing tone, though there’s a flicker of genuine relief in his eyes.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite to your words. You set the plate down next to him and hand over the aspirin, glancing away to avoid letting him see the small, reluctant smile tugging at your lips. “Thought you’d need this. Can’t have you passing out on us.”
Rafe takes the aspirin from your hand, holding your gaze just a little too long before he swallows it dry. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting room service,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving yours. “Didn’t know you cared this much.”
You scoff, folding your arms. “You should know by now I don’t want you dead, Rafe,” you say with a wry smile. “But don’t expect this to become a habit.”
He chuckles, the sound low and a little smug. “We’ll see about that,” he says, shifting against the ropes, clearly enjoying the attention. He nods toward the plate. “So, what—are you gonna feed me, too?”
You blink, taken aback by his nerve, and then raise an eyebrow, letting sarcasm color your voice. “Would you like me to? Or do you think you can manage?” You narrow your eyes, daring him to keep pushing.
Rafe’s smirk wavers, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink as he quickly looks away. “I can handle it,” he mutters, clearly flustered but trying to play it off. “Don’t get carried away.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to.” But you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips as you settle back, watching as he tries to pick up a piece of food from the plate with an awkward, fumbling grip, struggling against the restraints.
You stifle a laugh as he tries to eat without making a mess, and he catches you smiling, his jaw tightening. “Something funny?” he snaps, though there’s a hint of embarrassment in his tone.
You shrug, biting back your amusement. “Nothing at all. You look perfectly in control.”
Rafe grumbles under his breath, focusing intently on his food to avoid meeting your eyes. Another wave rocks the boat, causing you to steady yourself against the wall, and you look back to find him watching you, something almost like concern flickering in his gaze.
“Be careful,” he mutters, his voice softer, dropping the bravado for a split second.
For a moment, you just look at each other, the storm outside and the chaos around you fading into the background. His cocky expression softens, and he gives you a small, grateful nod. He won’t say it, but you know he’s thankful.
“Thanks,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on you a beat longer.
“Yeah, yeah,” you reply, crossing your arms as you lean back against the wall. “Just don’t make me regret it.”
Rafe grins, his cockiness slipping back into place, but now it’s warmer, less of a wall and more like something shared just between the two of you. As he reaches for another bite, he murmurs, “Wouldn’t dream of it.” And as much as you try to resist, you can’t help the small, reluctant smile that crosses your face in response.
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The storm hits hard, the boat rocking violently beneath your feet. You’re barely able to keep your balance as you make your way through the narrow, dimly lit hallway. Waves crash against the hull, each one sending a jolt of panic through your body. But there’s something else clawing at you—something that won’t let you ignore the sound of Rafe’s voice, sharp and desperate, calling from another room.
“Come on! Cut me loose!” His voice cracks, the desperation in it too raw to ignore.
You freeze, breath catching in your throat. Rafe. He’s still tied up. The ropes are holding him in place as the boat teeters precariously on the brink of capsizing. You can hear Pope and Cleo yelling from the kitchen, their voices overlapping, trying to convince you to leave it alone. To save yourself. But you can’t. Not this time.
You grip the knife tighter, your fingers cold and trembling from the anxiety rising in your chest. There’s no time to think. Rafe’s call keeps echoing in your head, and that voice—the urgency, the fear—pushes you forward. You make your way toward the room where you heard him last, the sound of the storm growing louder as it pounds against the sides of the boat.
Before you even get to the door, Cleo’s voice rings out. “No! Y/N, No!”
Pope’s voice follows, sharper. “Y/N, stop don’t let him out!”
But you keep moving. You don’t stop. You can’t. There’s no way you’re going to let Rafe stay there, helpless and bound, when you can do something about it.
When you reach the door, you shove it open, and the sight of Rafe tied up against the far wall hits you with a jolt. He’s slumped slightly, sweat slicking his forehead, his face drawn with exhaustion and frustration. His eyes snap to you, and for a split second, they soften with something almost like relief.
“Cut me loose, come on!” He says again, his voice strained, but louder this time, more insistent.
His hands are bound tightly in thick ropes, his legs spread out uncomfortably beneath him. The ropes seem too thick for him to break on his own. You can see the tension in his body, the way his muscles twitch from the strain, and the panic that flickers behind his gaze. There’s no time to waste. You don’t think twice. You crouch in front of him, the knife in your hand glinting in the low light.
Rafe watches you, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “Don’t make me regret this,” you murmur, feeling your heart beat faster as you cut into the thick rope that’s holding him in place. Your hands are shaking, the knife slipping slightly as the boat tilts again, but you focus on the task at hand.
“Come on, hurry up.” His words are clipped, desperate, and you push aside the nervous tightness in your chest as you work faster, cutting the ropes.
You’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body, a stark contrast to the cold, wet air from the storm. The boat groans as another wave slams against it, and Rafe’s eyes flicker to the window, then back to you.
“Please,” he breathes, and it’s that one word that makes everything else fade away—the roaring storm, the panicked shouting from the others, the ticking clock of time slipping away.
The last thread gives way with a sharp cut, and Rafe’s hands are free. His arms immediately reach for you, grabbing hold of your wrist with a surprising amount of force, pulling himself upright.
“Thanks,” he mutters, his voice rough, but there’s something deeper in it, something like a sense of vulnerability you’ve never seen from him before.
You don’t have time to say anything, to wonder if he’s really thankful or if he’s just grateful to be free. The boat shudders violently, and you both stumble as the hull groans beneath you. The wind howls outside, whipping against the windows, and you know there’s not much time before things get worse.
Rafe doesn’t wait for an invitation. He grabs your arm, pulling you toward the narrow hallway. “We need to get to somewhere safer,” he says, his tone not leaving any room for an argument.
You’re both moving quickly, though the boat keeps pitching wildly. The wind screeches, and water sloshes against the floorboards. Every step feels like a risk, like the boat could capsize at any moment. But Rafe doesn’t let go of your arm. He pulls you behind him, guiding you toward a small corner near the engine room, the only place that might offer even the slightest bit of shelter.
You slide into the corner, pressing yourself against the cold wall. It’s not the safest place, but in the madness of the storm, it’s all you have. Rafe follows, wedging himself beside you. There’s barely enough room for the two of you, but you don’t mind. You’re not focused on that right now. All you can think about is how the boat is rocking, how you’re both on the brink of disaster, and how Rafe’s body is so close to yours.
He leans into you, his breathing ragged and uneven. For a moment, he pulls away, but then his hand is at your waist, his grip tightening. It’s almost like he’s afraid you might slip away from him. He presses his body closer, his face now inches from yours, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart.
Rafe places his head on your neck, his face buried in the crook of your shoulder. The warmth of his breath on your skin is both comforting and unsettling, but you don’t pull away. Instead, you place your hand on his back, the pressure of your touch grounding both of you as the storm rages on around you.
“You’re okay,” you whisper, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to reassure him or yourself.
Rafe doesn’t respond, but you feel his muscles relax, his tense body unwinding little by little. He’s not just holding onto you for stability; it feels like he’s holding onto you for something more. You can’t explain it, but there’s something in the way he leans into you, something raw and vulnerable that you’ve never seen before.
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year ago
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I have no proof or anything but I’m pretty sure this man, who called me twice and left two messages, is now rejecting my calls
#so one thing about me is that probably 99% of the time i have my phone set so that calls not from my contacts don’t come through unless the#person calls twice within a two minute period (this would identify someone who really wants to talk to me)#reason for this is i have really bad phone anxiety which i think stems from when i was a teenager & me and my mom were under investigation#because i truanted so much. the truancy officer at my school would call our house phone incessantly to try to intimidate me into picking up#so that she could guilt trip me and tell me about how my mom could go to prison for not sending me to school#she literally sat outside our house once in a car just calling and calling the phone and then she started knocking on the door as well#i was also home alone and knew the law which was that technically i was an abandoned child and also one that should legally have been#at school at that time because there was nothing visibly wrong with me (mentally though…… that was a different matter)#anyway so i hate answering my phone lol. i only turn off the screening setting if i’m expecting a call#but i find that it causes less problems than you’d think because most people (e.g. this man) who are legitimately trying to call me#will leave voicemails. i also tend to add people to my contacts immediately so that they can get through; even if i don’t necessarily plan#on calling them much. like my doctor; dentist; all my old workplaces; any job i’ve applied for that has a bit of a lengthy process#all will be in my contacts so that the call will come through properly and i will see it’s them and be able to answer#so anyway. this guy called yesterday morning and it didn’t come through so i listened to the voicemail and found out he was calling#in relation to a job application i definitely remember making. great! i decided i’d call him after physio#except after physio i went to my grandma’s and then tesco and then by the time i got home it was 3:30pm and i realised i’d skipped lunch#so i made hotdogs and then checked the post and discovered that the photos i’d had printed of mabel had arrived so it was time to have a cry#then trick or treating started in my neighbourhood. and basically long story short i forgot all about that call#until i missed another one from him 45 minutes ago. this time i was like okay; i’m home alone; let me just call him now and get it over with#i get his voicemail. i’m not leaving a fucking voicemail. i decide to eat breakfast and then call again#tell me why it rings LESS times this time 🧐 but i still get his voicemail again 🧐🧐🧐#is this motherfucker rejecting my calls because he’s mad that he had to leave two voicemails??? no one asked you to leave the second one#i GOT the first one and i want/need this job. i was going to call you back sooner or later goddamn#anyway tl;dr i don’t know what to do now. i have a lunch meeting which splits my day in half so i think i’ll try again after that#and if i still don’t get through to this man i’ll just add him to my contacts and hopefully he can get through to me if he tries again#personal
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infiniteglitterfall · 9 months ago
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know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!
hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.
I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.
It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.
Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.
It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.
(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."
Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.
Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.
People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.
(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.
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I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.
She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.
And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.
He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.
He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.
I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.
But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.
It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.
(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)
(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.
We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.
People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.
Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.
3,000,000.
Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.
Five times as many.
That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:
Here's a non-paywalled link to it:
https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates
Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:
Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.
You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.
They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)
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hon3y-y · 7 months ago
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Roomie!sukuna doesn't even get horny for anyone other than you anymore. You have the wettest, nastiest pussy he's ever seen- and he deserves the best so nobody but you will do. You're fucking so many other fine men now that you dont even give him a second glance when he walks out the shower in just a towel to tease you. And oh, his temper when one of your hookups pick you up and you don't come home for the weekend. Or even worse, they stay for the weekend. Sukuna has never let a girl sleep over at the apartment but now there are two colognes in the bathroom, two pairs or men's shoes at the door, and he can almost never see you in the living room without some other man hanging off your side
read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2 part 4
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he’s literally so embarrassingggg it’s not even funny. he’ll walk around and flex his muscles, smirk on his puffy lips as the water drips down his ripped torso. he stands outside your open door, you’re looking down at your phone deciding on whether to spend the night at choso’s or nanami’s (pick choso, nanami gets up at like 5 am 🙄), “showers empty..” sukuna basically purr’s, resting his arm on the doorway.
and you literally could not give less of a fuck💀
you just nod, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as you focus on putting both their names in a generator and letting that choose your fate for the night. let’s just say sukuna was extremely angry when a motorcycle pulls up and you just giggle and hop onto it, kissing the stupid leather clad boy while throwing on the custom bikers helmet choso had made for you. and to top it off, sukuna had to physically restrain himself from blowing up your phone on where the fuck you are??
messages;
ryo<3: didn’t see you this morning
you: i’m staying with choso for the weekend! sorry, should’ve told you last night:/
you: i also won’t be home after wednesday satoru is taking me to this festival! i’ll send pics😋
ryo<3: have fun 👍
omfg he’s losing it. he literally will spend the whole time in the gym, refusing to be in the empty apartment for longer than eight hours for sleep. he feels like there’s a cement brick in his chest when you’re whisked away by these men. but nothing is worse than when he stays over.
he being satoru.
it was becoming a huge issue. his longest “sleepover” was a week. a week where you weren’t even home for half of it. but sukuna was. he was there for all of it.
there was now a third toothbrush taking up countertop space in the bathroom, he would find satoru’s clothes in the wash (which would always somehow be in there whenever ryo specifically had to use it??), and gojo absolutely loved to make out with you everywhere but inside of your room and sukuna started to hated it. publicly claiming you in front of the guy who literally made it possible🙄 unbelievable.
let’s just say you take a break from bringing satoru over, doing your best to settle the tension at home. but sukuna couldn’t let it go, not when he stares at the stupid fucking blue electric toothbrush and knows that it’s only temporary.
at this point he didn’t even give a fuck about the other guys, you can keep them as long as he’s added onto your roster.
it’s been a while since the two of you had a movie night. something that used to, at the very least, happen once a month has been delayed due to your extra activities. the two of you relaxed into the couch, the movie was a random one you found choosing whatever looked the best by cover and for the first time in a while, sukuna felt like he had you.
“did you buy the candy?”
“shit, yeah. i think i left it in my room?”
“go get it while i make the popcorn!” you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling excitedly. you looked so cute and soft, and ryo got a glimpse of your cute pink panties when you bent over to grab something so he was feeling just as good. he could already picture the little damp spot he’d create after teasing you and then force you to beg and make it up to him.
he thought about it the whole walk to his room, picking up the bag and then back to the living room, fantasizing about what he plans to do. and just as he’s about to turn the corner, a head of white fluffy hair is laying on your lap, legs spread to take up the full length of the couch. and the only seat available? the one farthest from you.
“i hope you don’t mind, satoru said he missed us!”
us… sukuna looked down at gojo, looking at the content quirk in his lip while he snuggled into you more, moving one of your hands into his hair to play with it. ryo’s eye twitched before he put the bag down and went back into his room, the door slamming behind him. the noise makes you force satoru up, a pit forming in your stomach. you didn’t want sukuna to feel uncomfortable in his own house—
“damn, what’s he so mad abo- he got macha kitkats!? mmm~”
*bonus*
sukuna is literally in his room about to dry heave because??? what alternative version of himself gave him such bad karma?!? in his room like this;
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but quietly, because he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to see him like this. such a fein🤦‍♀️
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a/n: i didn’t put smut because i didn’t want to get repetitive BUT should we finally let sukuna get a taste?? part 4 where he finally gets her?? lmk🫶
*not edited*
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shotmrmiller · 1 month ago
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kinktober: cockwarming (john price x reader x simon in underground fighter au)
You're no fan of real-time violence.
Movies can never replicate its visceral reality— the sharp metallic tang that clings to the air, mingled with salt and the bitter stench of the swill these local colors call beer. Even worse is having to be the one to patch Simon up with trembling, blood-slick fingers and your molars sunk into the thick of your tongue to keep your lunch where it belongs.
So when Simon sends you Price's way with a firm palm on your arse and his spit still warm on your lips, you're grateful. He'll keep ya busy.
You're not counting his blood money, if that's what he was thinking.
"Course not, love," Price says, the rings on his thick fingers glinting under the dim light overhead as he opens the door to his office. It smells of worn leather, polished wood, and layered on top is the heady aroma of tobacco, rich, unmistakable. (You will not stay if he lights one of those puppies up. You like your lungs how they are.)
"Tha's wha' the bill counter is for." You can feel the warmth of his palm seeping through your clothes— a steady presence at the base of your spine, guiding you forward with a subtle push.
You'd expected him to let you pluck a book off the well-stocked shelf that's been beckoning you since you laid eyes on it and curl up on his couch with a blanket draped over your shoulders. Maybe even chat you up with small talk, ask about your week, school/job, and how you were adjusting to this new life.
Not with his broad front curling around your back, breath warming the shell of your ear, while you stare at the smooth, raised skin on his knuckles— which is less furry than the rest of him— in hopes that you don't fall apart around the thick of his cock. He's got a hand flat on the desk, small finger slanting to the side probably from where it healed wrong, and the other's signing off paperwork you couldn't even try to understand with a clear mind, much less one that's spinning from the sheer want for friction, relief.
Your arse pulses hot from where he'd reprimanded you earlier for squirming too much.
"Quite obedient. Simon's taught ya well." He hisses when you tighten up involuntarily, indignation cutting through the sluggish heat you've been burning in at his remark. Obedient. Taught. As if you're some kind of lap dog, yipping and rolling over for a treat. (Or in this case, a cock.)
"Easy, love. Jus' a joke." The hand he'd had on the desk comes to squeeze at the meat of your ribs, a small gesture, before weaving down to your cunt, fingers spreading, feeling how well split you are around his length, lips spread wide. "I'd hate f'you to turn my own guard dog against me, eh?" His apology comes in jerky little circles, smearing slick over your neglected clit, coarse hair of your mons coated milky white.
Each stroke of his fingers only bows your spine, winding it like one would a key on the back of a doll, your muscles coiling with tension, bodily response not your own after being denied release for god knows how long.
The sharp tap on the door goes completely unnoticed by you, but not Price. His pace remains steady, continuous, as Simon walks in through the door with crimson peppered on his cream wifebeater.
"John." Through bleary eyes, you see Simon settle in the chair across from you both, legs long, knuckles angry red and swollen as he palms himself over his denim. "Gaz may or may not 'ave goaded Soap into a fight."
Price's hand stops abruptly, desperation clogging your throat, the coil beneath your navel cranked so tight you might just scream. His voice rattles you from behind. "And?"
Simon's got his jeans bunched to his knees now, cock resting heavy atop his thighs, quads' ridges shifting as he gets comfortable. He might just be a tad bigger than what you've got sitting snugly against the plug of your womb.
"They're tumblin' outside, among civil folk. I doubt gettin' 'em out will be as painless this time 'round."
Price snarls and you find yourself empty, straddling Simon's hips, your inner thighs burning at the width. "Bloody fuckin'—," the sound of his belt buckle peters off soon after he walks out the door.
Your hands can feel Simon's shoulders flexing as he runs a fist up his length, eyes heavy lidded and focused on the creamy slick dampening your curls. His cock sits long on your stomach.
"'ave a seat, then." Amusement curls his lip, usual pink scar on his lip stretched silver. Your knees don't reach the cushion he's on properly, so you place your feet right above his own for leverage, legs folded tight.
His fingers dimple your waist as you lower yourself onto him, breath rushing out of your lungs as he fills you, aching, burning, a stretch you'll never really get used to, the pinch deep in your core causing discomfort to clump your lashes together until you're flush against him.
"Sit real pretty now. Gotta wait f'r Price t'give me my earnin's."
You're gonna rip his ear off with your teeth if you don't get to come soon.
"Claws in," he mutters, thumbing your pebbled nipple through your shirt. "Won't be too long."
(It was too long but worth every bloody second in the end.)
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