#party car instead

[icewindandboringhorror]

HAPPY 16TH BIRTHDAY!!! To this elderly bapy boye!!! he...!!!

[aaron04jpg]

When I have to go through the worst months of the year (dec-feb) but least there is a reward at the end (f1 back in march)

[apuff]

real

[littlegrapejuice]

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY TO ONE MAN AND ONE MAN ONLY🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸

[alagaisia]

I’m reminded of that post about how goths and people who wear only lots of pink are actually the same because “wearing only one color” is a specific choice in opposition to just looking Normal

I’m flying to a friend’s wedding today, and I recently acquired from my neighborhood free page a very pretty vintage suitcase in like a brocade upholstery texture in all of my good colors, so of course I needed a coordinated airport outfit à la Midge Maisel. You guys don’t know me, but I usually dress very put together, in what my sister calls Outfits, with a capital O to distinguish it from just wearing clothes. And since getting a full time job I’ve been slowly adding to my collection of vintage and 50’s-vibes clothes, because I just really like that aesthetic (my bridesmaid dress for the wedding is a vintage tea dress I got from Etsy. The fabric is in great condition but I had to reinforce pretty much every seam with my sewing machine, because the structural integrity of the original thread was breaking down, so that was an interesting learning experience).

All of which is to say that I Dressed Up for the airport in a vintage-y outfit that coordinates perfectly with some of the colors of my suitcase, and my hair is curled, and I have a vintage leather purse that my grandma gave me that matches her watch that I’m wearing and the shoes she bought me last summer at the same vintage store that my skirt came from, and a teenage-ish girl with whatever you call the 2023 teenage equivalent of emo/punk vibes, like the dark maroon mullet and not a lot of makeup and dark comfy clothes but like, very on purpose, told me I look cool when I walked past on the way to security

And like, she Gets It! We have different fashion goals but I think we put a similar degree of intention into the way we look compared to just wearing regular clothes. Which is cool! It’s validating. Not that I really need validation, but it’s always nice to get compliments, of course. And the way I dress is really not terribly distinctive most of the time, other than being Outfits and a little dressier than maybe the norm is, like I think most people who see me one time in passing would see that I look Nice but not necessarily see it as a cultivated Look. But punk mullet girl gets it.

[scionshtola]

i went to sleep early and didn’t even get any rest bc i was having college stress dreams

[poltergeistings]

cool cool cool i should not have taken yesterday off . i have very little time the rest of the week to do anything but work

[jellogram]

Leaving new orleans next week and it's probably going to be good for me to get out of here but fuck am I going to miss the french quarter. It's like the fucking land of the lotus eaters in my backyard and having that so close to my alcoholic ass is both a blessing and a curse. I'm going to sorely miss having a place where I can vanish into the nightlife scene for a few hours but my liver (and my personal safety) is not gonna make it much longer. I cannot live this close to a gay bar that serves $3 drinks, that's how I die

[floral-hex]

Got a month’s prescription of klonopin. Wish I could find out how other people are affected by it, but all I find are posts about getting fucked up. I mean, I guess good for y’all, but not very helpful for me 🤷🏻‍♂️

[fionarara]

still randomly remembering that one time i attended the creator of Minecraft's annual house party even though i've never even played that video game lmao and after getting to watch Skrillex dj in such an intimate setting (surreal), we all hung out and he had like a harem of cute girls surrounding him on the couch, haha it seemed super platonic though and he was really respectful,,, literally he was so kind to me and everyone,, by far the nicest celeb i've ever met besides elijah wood.

[herd-reject-arts]

Kys

Kiss myself? Come kiss my yourself, you fucking coward 😘

[motherherbivore]

the OC lore is that a cult thought Yara was a fragment of a star and that their heart was the star core with insane magical properties, so the cult tried to cut it out of their chest. but Yara is just albino, and all they did was bleed. they’re saved, luckily, but the scars will always be there.

this drawing comes with a lot of convoluted personal baggage but most importantly it looks so fucking good

[longagoitwastuesday]

Found Gojo/Ijichi art. All is good in the world

[inbabylontheywept]

bad dating stories time: the shoe incident

so in highschool, my best friend wasnt allowed to go on dates unless there was another couple there to keep an eye on him. part of this was his parents being insane, but also, part of it was him being insane. in a problem with no reasonable parties, there are no reasonable solutions.

at some point in my junior year, my sorta-gf broke up with me, and i just wasnt feeling dating, which was bad for my friend, because he had a good thing going with a girl he met in court.

he kind of hounded me about it. kept pushing me to just put me feet back in the dating pool and i wasnt real thrilled about it, because i knew he was pushing me for his own benefit, not mine, so i kept telling him to fuck off, and after a few weeks of being told that i would date when i was damn well ready, he eventually said: okay. what if i paid for the date AND found you a blind date AND all you had to do was show up?

and i shouldve said no, i know, but i let him wear me down, and i will own my fault in that. a date starting on such a stupid premise could never have gone well.

but he still managed to find a way to make it worse.

i dont know how long he tried to set a blind date up. it couldve been multiple attempts. he couldve stooped to this immediately. but what happened in the end was that he called a girl from the ward he attended - a girl that he knew had a giant, mushy crush on him - and he said: hey! how would you feel about going on a date this weekend?

(you know, implying it was with him, but never actually saying it.)

and she said YES WOW I WOULD LOVE TO and he said great! and then he called me up and said he found me a date.

i did not learn about his crimes until several weeks later. i will die swearing before god almighty that i would never have allowed this travesty to happen if i had known.

that was on a monday. the date of the date rolled around that friday evening, and im sorry to confess, i really phoned the whole thing in. i showed up in my favorite comfy outfit, which was also a fashion crime: basketball shorts and flipflops and a baja hoodie. it was super comfy but it made me look kind of crazy. i picked him up first, and then i picked up his date next, and then we went to pick up my date, and thats where you're gonna get the play by play.

i arrived, walked across the yard, and knocked on the front door. she opened it almost immediately, like shed been waiting right by it, and i could see her expression go from OMG IM SO EXCITED to super disappointed, then disgusted and finally pissed. and because i didn't know about my friends sins, i thought it was from my outfit. which seemed... harsh. like, hey, im allowed to be quirky, fuck you. also its a blind date, i thought the deal was that we were both going to be sad broken sacks of mortality.

anyway, we looked at each other for several seconds before she slammed the door in my face.

i looked back at my friend. he was sweating bullets. i dont know what he expected from this, but there was this big long pause where we both tried to figure out what to do, and then the door opened up, and her dad invited me in, and he said she was gonna need a few minutes to finish getting ready, and that in the meantime we could sit and talk.

we did not talk. we did sit. i sat down on the couch, and he sat down in a chair across the couch, and then instead of talking he cleaned his pistol on the coffee table. i wasnt actually sure if it was a threat, or if it was just a fidget thing for 40+ year old republican men, but when i tried to help he got snappy so i just watched him put a pistol back together.

he was okay at it.

eventually my date came downstairs, still mad as hell for reasons beyond my ken, and i felt pretty guilty for being such a mess because i thought that was why she was so angry. i tried to make up for by walking her to the car and getting the door for her, just generally trying to be extra polite, but before i could make it back to the drivers side, her dad called me back to the door. so i flipped around, went to the door, and immediately regreted my decision.

soon as i was within range, her dad got waaaay too close to me, leaned in, and said "whatever you do to her, i will do to you," and my brain went into overdrive making three consecutive realizations.

realization one was, damn, the pistol thing was a threat. that sucks. what an asshole. realization two was, wait, im autistic and even i know theres a 0% chance me and my date even hold hands, least of all boink. does this guy actually think there's even a 1% chance of anyone in that car getting laid tonight? is he an idiot? and then realization three went through, which was wait, is this guy threatening to fuck me? and unfortunately, with my brain doing so much processing, my mouth was left to run amok, so somewhere between realization 2 and 3, i said:

"i can't get pregnant"

which, i swear, wasn't actually me trying to be a smartass, it was just me pointing out that he couldn't actually follow up on that threat. it just wasn't possible. we do not live in the omegaverse and im not scared of you.

still, it was an insanely catastrophic thing to say, and the moment we both heard it, we bluescreened. that single sentence obliterated both of our momentary streams of consciousness like a saltine in front of a sand blaster. problem was, he'd probably gone his whole life not even realizing someone could say something that stupid, and making that realization was going to cost him a lot of thinking time. me though? i had been saying shit like that for 17 years, i didnt have to rewrite my expectations of human nature, i just had to plan an exit and start striding. so i was already halfway back to the car before i heard "hey. hey come back. Hey. Hey. HEY. HEY WAIT. HEY GET BACK HERE. HEY-"

and then i was in my car, and i drove away.

if this happened today, he'd have called her, and the whole thing wouldve imploded then and there, but back then, there were still a decent number of teenagers without cell phones. especially the teenagers of insane, gun toting parents. so she just said: whoa what was that all about? and i said: dont worry about it, he'll tell you about it when you get home.

and she said: ok and went back to staring daggers at me and my friend.

WHICH SURPRISINGLY isnt even how the story ends.

we went to an improv comedy show, and it was a disaster. it shouldve been like, 7/10 tops, but between my date being mad, and my friend having a good time, and me having the existential terror of knowing that a guy with a pistol was probably waiting outside his house for me to come back, it was easily 11/10. i laughed way too hard at everything. especially the jokes that flopped. id sit there in this mostly silent room and laugh until i dry heaved a little, and my date was absolutely disgusted, and even my friend was a little embarrassed, which would just make me laugh harder. i laughed so hard that night i could barely talk the next day. and then the show ended, and my friend said, you know, that was a good time, but i think we should maybe do something a little chiller? who wants to walk around the park? and his date said yeah, and my date said no, and i finally had mercy on the poor woman so i said, look, im gonna drop you off. and i am so, so sorry about this, but im dropping you off like a block away. super duper sorry.

do talk to your dad about the pistols thing if you dont want this happening more in the future tho.

and she said: okay. so i dropped her off, and she walked a block down, and that was that.

then i drove my friend and his date to a park that was good for wandering. i figured they wanted something more private, so instead of following them around point blank, i chose a park with this 30 foot rope tower, and i climbed to the top and i said: hey i can see you anywhere from up here, you are officially chaperoned from a distance. get panopticoned idiot. except my friend really is an idiot, and he didnt really get the whole 'now i dont have to third wheel so insanely hard with you guys' thing so he climbed up the tower too, and then his date followed behind him, so there are three people basically sitting together on top of a telephone pole.

and then they started making out.

i was close enough to hear it.

i didnt really know what to do so i was just kind of sitting there, dissociating, when some college kids came around and started shaking the tower. my friend's date went aaaaaaaaaa im afraid of heights :( and my friend went oh, dont worry, ill hold you tight ;) and i went hey, im gonna climb down and ask them to stop.

so i did climb down, and i did ask them to stop, and they flipped me off, which i wasnt even mad about. at that point i was i was like yeah, it would be weirder if this wasnt a mess. gods plan has been to fly this day like a 747 into my metaphorical twin towers and brother he is close enough for me to see him grinning through the cockpit window. still, eventually the college students got bored, so they climbed up the tower, which gave my friend and his date a window to climb down, and together we walked back to my car.

now, i cant explain why this is, but sitting back in the drivers seat was my carriage-back-into-a-pumpkin moment. i'd been chill about all the chaos, just rolling with the punches, but sitting down made me realize how much of a shitshow the day had been, and while i couldnt go back and fix all of it, i could go back and fix one thing.

so i told my friend and his date, hey, you two, stay here and don't do anything weird. don't. then i walked back to the rope tower, and i started picking up the shoes the college students had left at the base in order to climb.

about halfway through this, i realized that if i took all their shoes, they might think i was in it for the money, and i actually wanted them to know i was in it specifically to spite them. fuck those guys. so i put all the right shoes back, gave myself a 100 foot headstart, yelled "nice shoes, assholes", did a little jig, and started running.

my advice to everyone is that college students are faster than you think. even with the headstart, and the whole climb down the tower thing, i was still only fivish seconds ahead of them by the time i got to my car. i flung the door open, looked in the backseat, didnt see anyone, flung the stolen shoes in the backseat, heard two "ow"s, took that as proof of presence, jumped in and pealed out of the lot.

my friend and his date popped up a few seconds later. they were, uh, doing something weird in the back seat. my one request - obliterated.

they climbed up to ask where the hell all the shoes had come from, and i was like yeah i stole them from the college students, and they were like oh. cool. hope you had fun. and i was like, i did. i did. but speaking of fun, what were you doing back there?

and for the first time in my buddies life, i think he was actually embarassed.

[blonkk]

spent yet another day ALONE doing stuff BY MYSELF and having no one to fucking talk to because this is my life.

my friends try to be supportive and like to minimize conflict or whatever i just smile and nod but fr I DONT WANT TO HAVE A NEW ADVENTURE!!!!!! I DONT WANT TO MEET NEW PEOPLE AND MAKE NEW FRIENDS!!!! IVE DONE IT A THOUSAND TIMES!!!!!! they mean well but they just don’t get it. they have partners and families and friends who they travel with/ are waiting for them back home when they can merrily go and resume their lives. i don’t have any of that shit. the REASON i travel and move so much isn’t because im just a carefree hippie floating in the wind it’s because i literally have no choice. for some FUCKING reason i can’t seem to land. i came to this stupid ass place because i needed a job i was literally going broke and nothin else worked out. i got stuck in the previous shithole for the same reason. i left home and am not going back because my family is shit i have no friends there anymore and there’s literally no reason for me to be there; i can’t do anything i like there, west is best there’s a reason people say that. i loved living there when i had friends and family but it’s not the same anymore.and i know my friends are trying to support me and think im being negative but seriously man. if you were in my shoes you’d get it . this is my FIFTH move since covid; each move i knew NOBODY!!!! had to be BY MYSELF 97% of the FUCKING TIME!!!!!! i’ve learned all there is that can be learned about being independent and whatever else. i know who i am. i know my values. i know i can do hard things. i know my hobbies. and every time things start to feel ok BOOM !!! YOUR STUPID SHIT LIFE IS BACK HAHAHAHA!!! TIME FOR YOU TO GO BE ALLLL ALONNNEEEE ALLLL OVR AGAIN BECAUSE FUCK YOU!!!!!!!! like i’m so tired of it. today i: went and saw a shitty place i don’t want to live in because i don’t want to live here. then i went hiking, took pictures, went to a mexican place, had a beer and a burrito. a really good sunday. a healthy way to spend a day off. except i had to do it with only myself for company like ive been doing for the past 5 fucking years and it doesn’t get easier it gets fucking harder because it’s just going through the motions i know how this shit goes. and if one more person tells me “that’s just life!” or “take the leap, you never know!! it could be amazinggg” or “im so jealous you’re always doing cool stuff and exploring new places” im gonna rip the skin off their stupid fucking face. like maybe being alone is a pretty common adult experience for people without a bf/gf but i can’t stand it and the longer i’m forced to do it the harder it gets and the more i realize it’s not fucking worth it. so. hope everyone else’s weekend wasn’t this dogshit

[auspicioustidings]

"You are being detained under Section 2 of the Mental Health Act 1983."

"You're fucking sectioning me?"

It took 14 days to get cleared. The police continued to treat you like a head case even if the doctors fully believed your story and insisted further investigations were done. Your family and friends walked on eggshells, they thought you were mental.

Something was off going into your flat. Your cat rubbed against your legs. Who the fuck had been feeding her? Her wet food dish was freshly changed, the auto-feeder and water fountain topped up.

You took a knife with you when you went to check the rest of the flat. Your toothbrush was damp. The shampoo was nearly finished when you were sure it had been half full. Your bed was rumpled and the whole room smelled of sex and sweat. The pillows were arranged into a vaguely person like shape, the place where hips might be dented down and stained.

The cat went in the carrier. You would have packed clothes, but all of them were covered in streaks of crusting white that you did not investigate further. You took photos though. You couldn't take the risk that you showed up, told the police and they found nothing that you claimed would be there. Not again.

Didn't stay long, just made the report, gave your phone number and got yourself on the next train across the country to your mothers house.

She has a new boyfriend, John. He is tall and handsome and when he speaks you sidestep to the utensils drawer without taking your eyes off of him. Your grip on the cleaver is painful as your mother continues chatting away unaware that the man behind her is raising an eyebrow at you and moving his shirt to the side to make you more than aware of the gun he has.

"Since your daughter is here, wouldn't it be nice to have a family dinner? My sons will just love their new baby sister. My youngest can be a bit rambunctious, but you'll need to take good care of him. Blew his knee out in a car accident."

Your mother blushes and laughs, turning to smack his shoulder as he smiles indulgently at her and puts a hand on her hip. A light squeeze. A warning.

"Let's maybe give it another year before talking about making our kids siblings John! I've not even met your boys yet" she scolds, laughing happily while you consider if it would be kinder to attack knowing it will end with a bullet in her skull.

"No time like the present then luv. Why don't you go get yourself pretty and we'll make a start on dinner hm?"

Fine. It's better anyway that she is out of the room. You're going to kill him. You are going to kill this man. You smile pleasantly at your mother as she leaves to go upstairs as does he. You wait for the sound of the shower kicking in before you launch at him with the cleaver.

He is not like Soap. He doesn't grin wildly at how much you want to tear him apart. Instead he growls low and dangerous when he manoeuvres to get your back pinned to to his front, the cleaver dripping with the blood he sacrificed to do it. You're still gripping it tight, but he just moves your own hand to hold it at your throat.

"Settle down. Would hate to bring your lovely mother down here and see exactly what I could do to her to motivate you to behave. You're Soap's to ruin, but she's free game."

You grit your teeth, press yourself forward into the blade to break skin. If he doesn't want to kill you because that's Soap's job, maybe this will force him to change tact. If you could just get an opening, just get free enough of his hold to grab that gun and blow his pretty brains right out of his skull.

"So pretty. Ye cut him didn't ye?"

You fight the urge to scream and cry. Soap is here. He is here and he is walking towards you with his cock straining against his jeans, his tongue immediately bullying it's way into your mouth when he gets close. The cleaver is taken from you, Price you think. Soap moves down to your throat, his maw covered in your blood as his teeth glint in the red like a wolf feasting on a rabbit.

You hit him as hard as you can, try to bite and scratch and gouge. He loves it. With every blow he groans, becoming more and more desperate to get his mouth on you, to sink his hands into your flesh.

"C'mon baby, ken how mad ye are. How much ye want tae hurt me. Dae it. Fucking hurt me."

He pins you to the counter and your hand manages to hit metal as it searches for anything to help. The fork buries itself into his side and he backs off ever so slightly to look at the handle sticking out of him in delight. You try to scramble away while he is distracted but turn to find the muzzle of a gun.

"Now now. We're going to have a nice, family dinner. Go get her ready would you Ghost? Can't have these blood stains."

Ghost is huge and scary and he drags you like you are a ragdoll. Soap is whining, a desperate noise as you are taken away from him. Your cat is rubbing against his legs, trying to comfort him. You want to tear him apart.

"Let's go for steak shall we?" Price says to the 4th man. "I'll go check how your mother is doing."

The threat is implicit.

Ghost roughly cleans you up. You feel like a corpse being embalmed as he rubs lotion hard into your skin and puts you in a pretty white summer dress. His big hand wraps around your throat like a promise.

"Not until the second date" he says before wrapping a bandage around your neck.

At some point during the dinner as you are considering how far you can get with one steak knife your poor mother has realised something is wrong, but there is nothing either of you can do now but play along. She tries to excuse herself, no doubt to phone the police, and Price firmly tells her to sit back down. Soap eye's are glued to your hand around the steak knife.

Yours are glued to the glass of whiskey in Price's hand. The bottle sits next to him. Cask strength, more alcohol than water. You almost wished you could blast some show tunes as you use the knife to lunge at the bottle and smash it. Soap laughs, a hand caressing your hair as he knocks over the candelabra right into the puddle.

He tries to drag you out of there by the hair. Somewhere in the chaos you manage to sink your teeth into his hand deep enough to taste blood and his grip loosens enough for you to escape into the smoke. You pray he burns. You pray they all do.

You are back in a hospital being questioned by the police after. Your mother is in a coma and can't verify your story of how exactly her house burned to the ground.

They don't find any human remains in the ashes.

No second location, that was the mantra that had been drilled into your head. So when a man bullied his way into your passenger seat, put a gun to your head and told you to drive, you did that. When he told you to take the next cut off you did not.

"Naw think I'll shoot ye?"

"Think if you do we're doing 80 and we're both meeting a quick end."

It's night time, quiet motorway that stretches for hours and hours. He laughs in disbelief after the initial plan to intimidate you fails. You can't keep driving forever, but he is fascinated by the attempt.

One hour in and you know each others names. He knows what music you like, knows you're single, that you have a cat. You know this is the first time he's brought a girl back (or has tried to at least), that he's the youngest in his team and this is an initiation of sorts. He connects his phone so he can blast his music. "Naw dying in a blaze of glory to fuckin' showtunes sweetheart."

You scream at one point, raw fury. He screams with you, whooping as you pick up speed and hit 100 in a moment of blind emotion before you slow a little again. He's touching you, a hand running down your body as he whispers filth into your ear. You give him nothing, act unaffected as your hands grip the wheel so tight they are turning pale.

There's a phone call. One of his team.

"As beautiful as you'd be dead, your pretty corpse is of fuck all use if it's burned to a crisp in a fireball."

"Oh, I don't talk about necrophilia until the second date."

"Fuck LT ye should see her. Spitting mad, think she might actually kill herself just tae take me with her."

Soap groans the words out, hard over the idea of dying in this car with you, throbbing with the knowledge that maybe you hate him so much you're willing to give up your life to spite him.

There are other team members, you try and block it all out. You are crying with frustration because soon the motorway will run out. Maybe you'll just drive straight to a police station, but then Price who you think may be their leader tells you that if his boy goes to jail, he may as well do it for murder.

"Soap'll blow your pretty brains right out of your skull luv, now pull off at the next exit and follow directions."

"Isn't it apparent by now that I'd rather die?"

"If that were true you'd have crashed 100 miles back."

He's right. You don't want to die. You really do not want to die. Over the last few hours you've developed an aversion to Soap dying as well. He's crazy, certifiably insane, but the danger of him is the kind of danger that comes with the flood of adrenaline that borders on erotic with how strong it is. You're sort of attached, trauma bonded maybe.

But the mantra persists. No second location.

Soap grins wildly when he sees how you relax, how your eyes fill with resignation. He can see what you're going to do. So he kisses you, tongue trying to bury itself as far into your mouth as possible.

"Let's dae it baby."

So you do. You bank hard right and the car goes flying, tumbling over and over into a field. You don't know how you survive it, but the next thing you know you are in the back of an ambulance. The police question what happened once you're stable in the hospital. You tell them everything. Psychotic break they think, suicide attempt. After all, yours was the only body in that car when they got there.