#probably PMSing too so hormonal mood shit

[abyssalaerlocke]

cw: domestic violence

Time to be permanently extra fucking paranoid, jumping at every sound, and not getting any rest.

Couple hours after mom left town for the week, neighbour's usual yelling and screaming turned violent, had to call the cops.

I'm directly across the hall from her unit, so very easy for her to watch and listen as they confirmed I'm the one who called and got my account. But because no one would answer the door, eventually they left (it did seem they were gonna check her balcony from outside, but I didn't hear anything)

So now I'm worried if my other neighbour's okay, and if I'm supposed to call the cops back if she indicates she's home (balcony several stories up is the only way she could have left, haven't heard a peep since the cops showed up). As well as, y'know, worried she'll try to break into my apartment for reporting her.

[zoadgo]

Kinktober Day Eleven | Object Insertion | Literally | Murphy x Raven | The 100

Words: 2897

Tags: Object Insertion, Anal Sex, Rimjob, Inappropriate use of mechanic’s tools, Questionable Sanitation, Questionable consent, Rough sex, No climax, Semi-public sex

Note that this is a kinktober prompt fill. It will be explicit smut, and quite likely, kinky. Mind the tags.

ao3

Raven can fix almost anything. She knows this, and unfortunately, so does everyone else. Which means she doesn’t get any time off, because there’s not enough people who know what they’re doing to repair all the broken stuff around Arkadia. Even when she tries to make herself scarce like she did today, someone manages to find her and tell her they broke the rover. Again.

It’s a damn good thing the rover bay is empty when she gets there, because Raven is annoyed enough to have snapped at anyone just for looking at her. She’s been working flat out for weeks, doing more than most, nevermind her leg which wakes her up with phantom pains most nights. She’s exhausted, in constant pain, stressed, and based on the telltale cramping she’d woken up with this morning, PMSing as well.

Lord have mercy on anyone who gets in her way today.

She manages to work out a bit of her frustration against the rover, throwing tools and wrenching parts around with more force than is strictly necessary, cursing vehemently under her breath the whole time. By the time she’s got the biggest problems mended, Raven is almost in control of her anger. But then she sees an oil leak and a wrecked tire, and that goes to hell.

She’s just about to curse both the parents and the descendants of whoever the hell had messed up her baby so bad when the thud of boots announces the approach of someone, moments before they open the door. Raven whips her head around, expecting another emergency, but finding only a new annoyance.

“Go away, Murphy,” Raven says without any hesitation, grabbing rags and patching materials to try and at least slap a bandaid on that oil leak.

“My, my, she’s feisty today,” Murphy drawls as he completely ignores her words, strolling further into the room as if he owns the place. Not that it’s off limits or anything, but still, it feels like an invasion of her privacy.

Which, it occurs to Raven as she opens her mouth to tell him off, is probably exactly Murphy’s intent. Little attention hog, he knows the best way to get anyone to talk to him around here is to piss them off. Him and Raven get along better than most - sometimes she might even call them friendly - but today she has no patience for his shit. So she does the best thing she can think of; closes her mouth, lays down under the rover, and ignores him.

“What, no smart response? Come on, Reyes, you’re letting me down,” Murphy sighs dramatically.

“Do you actually need something?” Raven grumbles, wiping oil away to see what the issue is. A small crack, nothing she can’t handle, but that doesn’t change the fact that she shouldn’t have to handle it in the first place. She’s told those drivers a million times, this thing is tough, but it’s made for slogging through gunfire, not ripping off road. Once upon a time, maybe, but the rover is a patch job just like everything else around here.

“Nah, I’m just bored. Didn’t feel like mopping today.”

Raven bites back her indignant response to that. He didn’t feel like it, so he just didn’t do it? Why does Murphy, who has no real skills other than pissing people off, get to live like that, and she doesn’t? She tries all the damn time, and it just gets taken advantage of. It’s not like she could just say no, it would kill her to see someone else butcher her work.

Raven bites her tongue and shoves a rag into the leak to seal it while she preps the area for a patch. She should weld one on, but honestly, she’s not sure the substrate would tolerate the stress of a full thickness metal patch. So it really will just have to be a bandaid, then, metal bonding adhesive and some metal-fiber patching material. It won’t hold up that well, but if people just stop using the rover like a punching bag, it’ll do until someone can salvage a better part for her.

“Wow, you really are in a mood. Not even going to tell me to leave you alone again?” Murphy pointing out her sour temper does absolutely nothing to help the situation. “You wanna talk about it?”

While his words may not be the worst, his tone is entirely patronizing. Raven closes her eyes and breathes in the thick scent of old motor oil, calming herself. Sort of. She’s calmer than before, but definitely not actually under control. She grits her teeth, bonding one side of the patch. She’ll have to be quick about it, before the oil leak starts again and ruins the prep work she’s done.

Raven coats the remaining edges of the patch with adhesive, swipes the rag out and slaps the material in place in a heartbeat. She breathes on it, heat activating the bond, using the proximity to inspect for any leaks. She doesn’t see any, although she’s distracted by the sounds of Murphy rifling through her stuff. Her teeth creak as she grinds them. He knows how to get a rise out of her at the best of times, and this is not the best of times.

The patch looks good, so Raven pushes out from under the rover with a heavy sigh. Just gather up the tools for the wheel, swap it out, and keep ignoring Murphy.

Come on, Raven, you can do this.

Her mental pep talk works until she sees the mess Murphy made of her workbench, and that he’s twirling one of the tools she needs in his hands as if it’s a toy. Raven stalks over, grabbing everything else she needs before turning on Murphy.

“Hand it over,” she demands, holding her hand out. Murphy raises an eyebrow at her, scoffing and walking away, not a care in the world.

“So you’re talking to me now, huh?”

“Not if I can help it,” Raven mutters under her breath, depositing her tools and the spare tire next to the rover. When she turns back, Murphy’s looking at her, almost sadly.

“Come on, Raven, this is no fun. You’re gonna burn yourself out like this,” Murphy points out, shaking the wrench at her as he speaks.

Okay, maybe he’s right. But he shouldn’t say it, because Raven doesn’t want to hear it. She wants to get this done with and go back to her room and be miserable. Granted, imagining killing Murphy is taking her mind off of her cramps and other things, but still.

“I swear to god Murphy, if you don’t hand me that torque wrench right now, I’m going to take it, and I’m gonna shove it where the sun don’t shine,” Raven growls, advancing on Murphy who simply smirks.

“That’s more like it! But be careful, Reyes, or I might think you’re sweet on me, making promises like that.”

Murphy twirls the wrench in question in his grip again, and Raven grinds her teeth. God, of all the people on all the days to try her patience…

“Don’t let your mouth write checks your ass can’t cash,” Raven cautions, and Murphy shakes the tool at her sternly.

“Hey, I’ll have you know my ass is perfectly capable of cashing any and all checks.”

He probably means it as a joke, just more of their back and forth bickering that he seems to enjoy so much, but it causes a mental image to spring up in Raven’s mind. Murphy, bent over, being drilled mercilessly until he can’t talk shit anymore- Raven shakes her head to clear her mind of the image, blaming it on her fluctuating hormones.

“Give me the torque wrench, Murphy,” Raven grits out through her teeth, taking slow, even breaths against her anger.

“Nah.”

His flippant reply is the absolute last straw for her. Raven lunges, and Murphy retreats quickly in his surprise. Too quickly, for someone who doesn’t know the layout of the room as well as Raven does; he stumbles back into her workbench, materials clattering to the floor.

“Shit!” Murphy yelps, dropping the wrench and spinning around to try and catch things before even more falls to the ground. The mess does nothing to help with Raven’s fury, and the sight of him bent over the table does nothing for the images in her head.

She scoops up the torque wrench from the ground with a disgusted sigh, mostly at herself. She shouldn’t even be considering this. It’s Murphy, and sure, maybe they’ve fooled around a few times when moonshine is involved. Maybe even once or twice when it’s not. But it’s always Murphy panting after her like a desperate dog, not her pressing up against him, mouth hovering next to his ear.

She does so, despite her better judgement, tapping the wrench on the back of his neck. Murphy goes entirely still before chuckling awkwardly.

“Come on, Ra-”

“Shut the hell up, Murphy,” Raven cuts him off rudely. “I warned you, didn’t I?”

“You did, but-”

“I told you exactly what would happen, but you kept pushing anyway, huh? You always do that, don’t you? Well, guess what, your actions have consequences,” Raven grits, anger at an all time high. It’s not solely Murphy’s fault, of course, but he’s the closest person she can take it out on.

Raven shoves at Murphy’s shoulders, forcing him into a more bent over position, and he doesn’t fight back. Because of course he doesn’t, isn’t this just giving him more of the attention that he wants? Well, it also serves Raven’s purposes, to treat him as her personal punching bag.

Raven kneels behind him in order to drag his pants and underwear to the ground around his ankles, and she stays crouched there, ignoring the protest in her knee. Much as she would love to just ram the wrench up his ass, she knows that’s not exactly feasible. Plus, he does have quite a nice ass for such an annoying prick, and there’s something Raven’s always wanted to try. She places the wrench in her lap and leans forward, spreading Murphy open with her hands.

“What the- fuuuck, Raven.” Murphy’s words of confusion rapidly become eager as Raven drags her tongue over his hole. She presses firmly at the tense ring of muscle with the flat of her tongue in slow, hard drags. “Holy shit, Raven, that’s-”

“Don’t you ever shut the hell up?” Raven growls against his tailbone.

“Oh come on, it’s part of my charm,” Murphy drawls, as if she’s not currently got him bent over a table, ass spread.

Raven spits in between his cheeks, saliva dripping over his hole. Well, he’s sort of got a point; if he hadn’t been so fucking annoying she’d never have hit her breaking point like this and needed to show him who’s boss. She wouldn’t exactly call it charm, though.

“How about this?” Raven says, dragging the pad of her thumb through her spit, spreading it over his hole and pushing slightly, making Murphy shudder, “You stay quiet, and I won’t stop. You say anything that pisses me off, and I walk away.”

“You wouldn’t,” Murphy cranes his neck to look over his shoulder at her, offended.

“I’m not invested in this,” Raven punctuates her words by pressing her thumb more firmly, forcing the muscles to give way ever so slightly, “I can leave whenever I want.”

She probably wouldn’t, if she being entirely honest, but it’s a hell of a satisfying idea. To bring Murphy to the edge, and then just walk away, leaving him a mess, letting him sort himself out. With that scenario playing out in her mind, Raven drops her mouth back to his rear again, resuming the diligent work of her tongue.

“I- fuck!” Murphy starts to speak, but he cuts himself off as Raven pokes the tip of her tongue into him. Just a little, just enough to tease him. The next noises that come from him are muffled, and Raven breaks away just long enough to look up and see Murphy biting the back of his hand.

“So the cockroach can take directions, who would have thought?” Raven chuckles.

Murphy doesn’t respond, which is all good in Raven’s book, so she returns to lubing him up with her saliva, and loosening him with her tongue. He responds quite nicely to her touch, actually, rocking back desperately against her mouth. It only takes a few dozen thrusts of her tongue into the burning heat of him before she feels his muscles relax and stay relaxed.

With a few more spit heavy licks of her tongue, Raven pulls away, turning the torque wrench over in her grip to hold the head, presenting the shaft towards Murphy. It shines in the light of the rover bay, and Raven feels a certain twisted pleasure in the coolness of it against her skin. This is going to feel cold as hell to Murphy, and Raven has absolutely zero sympathy for him. He brought this one himself, and given the pathetic whining noise he makes, he even wants this.

Well, Raven does always help out in any way she can. With a vindictive grin, she presses the cold metal against his prepared hole, forging forward even as he jumps with a gasp. He’s burning up from her attentions, the unyielding steel must be a harsh contrast to the soft touch of her tongue. Raven watches him clench around the handle of the wrench in surprise, slowing its progress.

“What’s this, Murphy? Did you talk too much game?” Raven taunts, and she watches as Murphy forces first the muscles in his back, then lower down to relax.

“Fu-” Murphy starts to speak, and probably to say something uncharitable by his tone, but Raven twists the torque wrench, cutting him off.

“Careful,” she cautions, tapping a finger firmly on the shaft, knowing he’ll feel it through the metal.

Murphy shuts up, hanging his head heavily. Raven can see him biting his lower lip from this angle, and isn’t that just a pretty picture. The loudest mouth in Arkadia, shut up because of her. Raven drives the wrench in a few more inches, watching Murphy’s chest heave as he breathes in sharply.

“See Murphy, you can’t just keep running your mouth and expect to get what you want,” Raven lectures as she draws the wrench out halfway before slowly pressing it back in. “People will only put up with you for so long.”

Raven keeps up the slow thrusts with the shaft until the movements become easier and Murphy begins making noises in his throat again. He even moves his hips, and she’s sure if he could talk right now without fear of her leaving him with a hardon and a wrench shoved up his ass, he’d be demanding more. Well, Raven is happy to oblige even without the verbal demand.

She drives the wrench faster, watching the drag of it in and out of him. It’s almost hypnotizing, the way his muscles twitch, so obviously telling her what he wants. She can see when she hits that sweet spot inside of him, the way his whole lower body twitches, and his whines and moans cut off as he loses his breath. Raven hits it time and time again before purposefully avoiding it. She said she’d shove the wrench up his ass, not that she’d get him off with it.

Murphy squirms desperately until Raven releases her grip on his ass to deliver a swat to the cheek she’d been holding. That gets him to hold still for a moment, and Raven keeps intentionally missing his prostate as she pushes to her feet. She places the hand not fucking him in between his shoulder blades, forcing him down to the table and holding him in place.

“You still think you get what you want? You pissed me off, Murphy, I’m just holding up my end of the promise,” Raven explains.

She sets an almost punishing pace; although, considering that the metal has no give and isn’t intended for this purpose, it probably is less than comfortable. But the whole time, as Raven twists her wrist and thrust the wrench in and out, Murphy keeps his mouth shut. So, even like this, he doesn’t want her to stop. Which works well for Raven, because she’s having too much fun, ghosting over his sweet spot and watching him jerk when she does so.

Raven thinks she could keep this up for hours, teasing and drilling Murphy until he’s half mindless, a mess under her touch. She has half a mind to do so, but the sounds of boots in the hallway reminds her that they’re not exactly in a private place, and there’s no lock on the door. Raven’s heart stops, and she reacts quick as she can.

“I’ll deal with them. Finish yourself off, or at least clean yourself up,” Raven mutters in Murphy’s ear, and then does exactly what she threatened to. She walks away, leaving him with the torque wrench still firmly planted within his ass.

As Raven distracts the would-be intruder in the hallway, she wonders if there’s any way she can get a new set of tools, because there’s no way she’ll be able to look at that wrench the same way ever again.

[makingspiritualityreal]

I don’t know if I’ve written about this here already but I might as well do it now.

I have a long history of trying to get a decent looking skin (forget perfect, normal looking is a blessing) because ever since I was 13 I’ve looked more or less hideous from the waist up, my face, back, clevage, sometimes even tits and upper part of my belly were covered in disgusting spots and scars. My skin is not the traditional oily type, it’s actually dry and sensitive under all the zits and that makes it scar a lot in a very visible, ugly way, even more because I’m so pale. It also makes it harder to find any sort of treatment. I could basically write a guide for people with similar problems by now thanks to all the experience that I have. At this degree of seriousness of the problem, no creams, ointments or any sort of external treatment can really help in any way, all you can do is be hygienic, avoid touching your skin and keep your nails short (I haven’t actually had long nails in years because of this). This basically means you have to take some sort of medication because for anything to help it has to work from the inside.

The first solution any doctor offers is antibiotics and they work wonderfully, at least while you take them. The moment you quit taking them, everything comes back twice as strong and I think the bacteria actually gains some sort of resistance in the process. Plus, you have to live with the standard antibiotic side effects - weakness, appetite loss, vulnerable immune system for months or years. I took many different types, the treatment lasted years, probably just fucked up my liver and immune system in the process. Wouldn’t recommend this to anyone. The plus of this one is that I don’t think it did any more permanent damage than that at least.

The second thing the doctors try is hormonal treatment, first they test you for any potential hormonal imbalance (I had none, just very low levels of all typically feminine hormones), then they give you appropriate treatment. This is where the fun with the side effects starts. I don’t know if it’s just my body reacting to any pill based on hormones (I wouldn’t take this form of contraception even if I needed to jfc no) but not only it does absolutely nothing to help with your skin but you suddenly get mood swings as if you’re pmsing non stop, the hardcore way. Also you bloat up and gain weight. The plus is, the moment you quit, it all stops really fast, and I don’t think this one has given me any permanent damage. I definitely learned not to take hormones ever again though.

Sadly, today’s medicine doesn’t know any other relatively safe, acceptable ways of curing acne. Every pill that you take is a derivative of some hormone or antibiotic or it’s some placebo bullshit. And that would be it for the more or less safe part at least.

The ultimate wonder pill that is offered for all possible forms of more serious acne contains a substance called isotretinoin. Now this one actually works, I admit. It has helped me, since my face is more or less smooth now, maybe occasionally something small pops up but this happens to every human on the planet and whatever I have on my cleavage or back is not even 10% of what I used to have, I could basically just burn it in the sun and be totally fine again. Moreover, the effects stay after you stop taking the pills, which is I think singular among all other forms of treatment. But I wouldn’t ever dare to call this pill safe.

It is true that the safety precautions are listed, the list of side effects is huge and you are aware of them in theory when you decide to try this treatment. But you know how the human mind works, a young person who has spent most of their life trying to look decent for once instead of being ashamed to walk in the streets, has tried everything else to help themselves to no avail, will try just about anything in order to finally feel better. These pills, however, don’t make you feel better. They make you LOOK better, but they give you a lesson that even while looking better, you might still feel like shit.

These pills are a form of a non - permanent lobotomy. I’m not kidding. They actually influence and damage your brain activity. The difference is, it is not a surgery so your body will probably regenerate in time, but while regenerating you may also get some of the skin problems back too. This is how it looked for me, my skin was absolutely perfect for ages but then gradually I felt that I started to regenerate from the side effects and some of the acne started to reappear at the same time. It took years for this to happen and it’s still not as bad as it used to be, but it was ugly enough for me to try taking the medication again to try to get rid of any possibility of getting spots for good.

I decided that I’m not trying this again because the price you pay for this treatment is too great. After one day of taking 2 pills (the strongest dosage), you get all the symptoms of side effects back and you just start to pray they wear off fast because the anxiety attack is so bad.

What happens first of all is that you get this impression of something heavy sitting on your head, somewhere in the forehead area, non stop, combined with this impression that your brain is a big ice cream pint and someone has just taken a scoop out of your forehead. It physically literally feels as if someone took a part of your brain out. You are sort of dazed and confused, have issues with memory loss an your general intellectual performance drops. Also, aside from the traditional drying of the lips, you also lose your taste and appetite really hardcore, which is the first step towards lowering your mood. You generally get dry...literally in all areas where you shouldn’t, which is uncomfortable especially for a woman. The worst shit though starts when you lay the pills off and the emotional issues kick in. When I read on the safety notice that these pills may cause depression and suicidal attempts in some “rare cases” I disregarded it and thought it was ridiculous. Sadly, it is actually true and I actually believe it is not such a rare case at all. The problem with this pill is linked to the fact, that people who resort to taking it already have usually very lowered moods because they look shit, so the change in moods and emotional reactions that may appear because of the pill only shouldn’t be noticeable. However, it is more complicated than that. Ironically, while my skin looked much worse, I had more confidence and determination. That’s because the pill paralyses the part of the brain responsible for action and decision making. Weakening this part of the brain literally makes you less assertive. 

Reading all this, you can see that the side effects do more than simply lower your mood temporarily. The side effects mean literally changing your personality, mostly in a negative way, significantly lower your performance and may bring out your negative tendencies and create destructive patterns that you struggle to let go of, even after your body has recovered - like depressive behaviors or passiveness, or the general issue with just gathering your thoughts.

I realise noone will ever notice this post anyway but I have had it in drafts for months and I wanted to finally be done with this rant. I also know how it feels to have skin issues so severe you won’t even care about paying this price. Also who knows, maybe someone else taking these pills felt better than I did. I’m just saying that this should be brought to the attention of anyone who attempts this treatment. This is NOT done! There is no psychiatric/psychological help, you only sign an agreement that you are aware of your own responsibility while taking these meds and you are forced to take contraception because you absolutely can’t conceive while taking these pill at the risk of giving birth to actual mutants. So basically, the doctors give away these meds probably unconscious of what they’re actually doing to patients. This experience has given me a huge dose of skepticism with any doctors, meds (which I avoid at all costs) or their efficiency. Honestly, I would advise anyone to steer clear and try to stay healthy the most natural way possible unless there is some serious scientific progress happening at some point.