#this browser is running SLOWLY

[fuckyeahthetomska]

can u tell im a sucker for early internet stuff

[wachi-delectrico]

Yeah i play flight rising. No i don't like the colo. No i don't like dominance either. No i don't go on the fairgrounds. Yes i'm poor as hell. We exist

[typheus]

i finished the final color of the granny squares

[televinita]

I've only had Amazon WorkSpaces for one day, but if anything happened to it I would throw a party for everyone in this room and pop the champagne myself.

[sharky-the-idiot]

Me trying to speedrun cookie run kingdom while baked as these cookies so I can get caught up on the lore and get ready for the next Beast Yeast chapter:

Lag:

[pandoraspurgatory]

seeing your hc of katsuki being into vanilla homemade porn has me dazy eyed 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫….. i’m so curious now if there were any specific porn creators you thought of when envisioning what he liked? or any who you think would fuck like katsuki? goodness… 😵‍💫

Turbulent

Truthfully I am not a porn watcher as I am a porn reader, so that question is far beyond my knowledge lol. Though I’ve written an in depth version of Katsuki watching porn, hope you enjoy<3

Katsuki Bakugo can’t get off on mainstream porn, though something changes when he finds a couples homemade video

Katsuki Bakugo likes vanilla porn, masturbation, cum, pretty vanilla here, mentions of facefucking + cuckholding, Denki and Mineta are bitchless

Katsuki never cared enough nor paid much attention to porn, stroking himself in his bedroom wasn’t worth the effort when he could spend his time training and honing his skills as a 3rd year student close to graduating.

Either it was that, or the fact that he just couldn’t cum from it.

He first gave it watching porn a go when Denki and Mineta spent the afternoon yapping about different genres of porn. He wasn’t an eavesdropper, though he listened in on the conversation, taking notes for a later date.

Bakugo only ever found himself rubbing one out when he woke up with a painful hard on, or got so worked up over some fantasy that he couldn’t get his dick back down.

That same night Katsuki sat infront of his laptop, legs open and pants discarded on the carpeted floor, a bottle of lotion splayed out on the bed next to him. He opened up the first website that appeared after typing ‘porn’ in his browser, incognito mode on of course, he had double checked. Hastily typing what he had overheard in the orange and black search bar.

‘Face fucking’

He grimaced as he clicked on the first video of some Internet whore with a fat cock stuffed down her throat. Mascara running down her face as she started her assault of sucking on the comically large dick. He could somewhat imagine himself doing it, though the drool and mess was a massive turnoff that made him feel sticky just watching it. Next

‘Cuckholding’

The moment it appeared on his screen after searching a lot made sense regarding Denki and Mineta. Of course they were into this shit, why the fuck did he even decide to listen on to those morons conversation. He was confident he could never be into this. Next

The next hour was filled off him stroking his half erect cock to mediocre videos with no luck. He’d even watched the top most recommended on the site, the drum beat before each video posing as a reminder that this wasn’t working. At this point it wasn’t even to get himself off, but rather to prove to himself he could find a video to do it for him.

None of this shit on his laptop could even remotely turn him on, there was no love or intimacy, just videos of devoid eyes and lacklustre movements that screamed ‘I want to get home and get my paycheck!’.

He hated to admit it, though he couldn’t ever imagine himself having a one night stand or watching these emotionless videos again. Despite his rough and calloused nature, he craved intimacy just as much as he craved to be the best in his class. Katsukis cock lay limp in his hand as he scrolls through the videos, more and more loading after each roll of the laptop mouse.

That was until a certain video caught his eye.

‘Our first video - couple homemade’ 12 views, posted 2 hours ago

He clicked on it, something felt different about this one. The thumbnail displaying what seemed to be a couple in their mid twenties, kissing in the frame of the video. The women had long black hair and sexy curves that made Katsukis dick twitch. The man she was with cupping her face gently with deep admiration for her in his eyes.

As the video slowly played out on his screen, he paid no mind to the humming background noise of their bedroom fan and the shitty resolution. What struck him was the way they kindly talked to each other, pressing small yet passionate kisses on each others faces, how their soft hands rubbed and stroked at one another with care and love.

Katsukis hand roughly gripped around his dick before he could even think to do it. Feeling himself desperately stroke faster each time the couple said sentences of care and sweet nothings to each other. Low moans he didn’t anticipate escaping his mouth as the man slowly inserted himself into the curvy brunette. He wasn’t even attracted to the couple in the video, though he couldn’t help but feel the coil in his stomach build as the intimacy of their love making displayed itself before him.

He wanted to be the one to do it, to bury his cock into his hypothetical girlfriend and dick her down with all the love in his heart. Apart of him felt weird for not being turned on by the professionally made studio porn instead of the homemade couple video with a total of 500 pixels. He tried not to think about it too hard, and focus on how hard his shaft throbbed in his hands.

He felt blissed out as he slowly edged himself, determined to cum at the same time as the couple, a desperately attempt at feeling included. Squeezing his tip harder every time pretty moans escaped their mouths, fuck he wanted to be in their position so badly.

“F-fuck babe… mmmnggg… gonna cum”

“That’s it, come for me pretty girl”

“Cum with me! I wanna feel you cum inside me”

Katsukis stomach felt hot, he was so turned on by the way they spoke to each other, the way they both quickened their movements desperate to make each other cum.

The moment the couple on the screen cried out in pleasure, Katsuki gave a few quick tugs, finishing himself off.

He gave out an embarrassingly loud groan as he released himself, ropes of his cum shooting onto his laptop screen. Panting as he laid back on his bed, he needs someone to do this with as soon as fucking possible

[the-monstermash]

UNBROKEN BETROTHALS

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Synopsis: After running away from an unwanted proposal, you find yourself working in a brothel as a cook. When a certain guest takes an odd liking to you, secrets are revealed and betrothals unbroken

Warnings: Angst, Brothels, Mature, 18+, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language

Word Count: 2,187

> **A/N:** AHHHHHH this is my first character fic, and only the second one I've ever been brave enough to post! I also had to post this on mobile because my browser was being wild so sorry for any formatting issues!

The sound of senseless fucking had never seemed to bother you. Easy to filter out, truthfully, and not as traveling as one would think it to be. No, there are many things worse, like for instance the smell. One never takes into account the smell of sex, much less the smell of alcohol fueled, desperate, old haggard men driving the last of their life-force into some disinterested cunny eager to make a coin. Eager to spend a coin, as well.

That's where you came in. Whores work up quite an appetite, one you are all too happy to satisfy, no pun intended. You'd been with Sylvi for years, after you'd run from your family in the dead of night, afraid of the life they'd planned for you.

"Everybody must eat," Sylvi sighed the night she met you, disinterested. "If you will not fuck, you will feed. We earn our keep around these parts, you'll do well to learn quickly."

That was the start of a very standoffish, albeit maternal, relationship. Sylvi had never truly cared for your company, but she cared for you, and that was more than many could say, and more than you could say of any kin. She had taken you in, given you shelter among her girls, and had asked very little of you, knowing your past. She'd seen you into young womanhood, and taught you all you wished to know about life. She was not coddling, nor cruel. She was just what you needed, and it seemed many shared the sentiment.

You were in a daydream as you went about your nightly tasks. The brothel would be closing in a few hours, the girls would need food, and you had really set into it, working quick and messily, spinning and turning about in an attempt to do too many things at once.

Just as you'd turned from the broth and made way to the oven, a wall had manifested itself and blocked your passage. No, not really a wall. Moreso a tree, in it's slender and sharp way. The branches had reached out to hold you, wrapping around your waist and breaking you from your reverie. Suddenly before you was a bare chest, pale in color and smooth like silk. He was taught with muscle, cut like marble. The kind of statue kings pay fortunes for, just to place in their hallway and walk past every morning.

"Sir, no one is meant in the kitchens." You had spoken before you'd had the chance to understand what you were saying, turning from him and back towards your oven to retrieve the loaves. "You'll need to return back to the brothel, Sylvi will not have men in her kitchen."

"'Twas Sylvi that sent me. I've come for wine." The voice was quiet, but in a way that made the ears strain to hear him, instead of drown him out.

Wine? Why would he not stop at the many*tables he'd have to pass to get here?You'd thought. This man must have ill intentions.

Slowly grabbing your bread knife, you turned your head to the side to face the intruder.

Prince Aemond Targaryen.

"My Prince! " The sound of metal rang through the room as you dropped the blade unto the table to turn fully towards him. "My sincerest apologies, my prince! Please forgive me, I had no idea!" You did your best curtsy, and prayed to the Seven that he wouldn't find me impertinent, and would be in a forgiving mood. What you'd just done could be viewed as treason, an attempt on the prince's life.

In the state he was in, which you had noticed, you surmised he just might be in a forgiving mood. He was nude from head to toe, his brow beaded from heat and, hopefully, exertion. The hook of his nose looked sharper as his purple eye followed it to look down at you. He was beautiful, almost overly so. It could only have been Prince Aemond, the eye patch gave him away, even though you'd never seen him before, you'd be a fool not to know the stories of the one-eyed prince. And you'd known him to be a rather fond client of Sylvi's, as she boasted often to the other girls at dinner.

His presence there in your safe haven was unnerving, and once again the sounds of debauchery were drowned out, but now it was as if he'd sucked the noise from the room. He was too tall for the room, it was not made for him. What would a kitchen made for a God even look like? The very notion to build such a thing seemed almost blasphemous to you. He was looking at you like you didn't even exist, almost through you. His stare was too deep for that of a stranger, but perhaps he had to look so intensely because his lack of an eye.

He finally cleared his throat, as if it would've pained him to repeat himself.

"The wine, yes. We are a humble establishment, so you will have to be forgiving with our selection. I'll have our best sent to you at once!" And with that, he let out a low hum and left you to your duties.

You'd quickly managed a carafe and two goblets, and sent it through with a boy, with strict instructions to deliver it to the prince. You'd have delivered it yourself, but as you did not know where he was, and did not have the time searching the brothel for him, you'd relented to send it through a lord's boy, and hope he was competent enough to manage it.

As the sounds died out from the front of the house, you'd began shuffling out with bowls of broth and loaves for the girl. They took it gratefully, each dropping two coins in your hands and sitting to eat, sharing small talk and whatever gossip they had learned from their clients.

"Ser Lannister had quite a bit to share tonight. He speaks of war. Do you know what war means?" Lauryn spoke excitedly.

"Rapers." Another girl, Cate called from farther away, monotone. "Foreign men coming into the city in siege, taking over the villages."

"It means more clients, Cate." Sylvi's voice quickly silenced the small talk, as she walked to the table and sat, ready to be served her complimentary meal. Her place at the table, as always, was already set, and she reached for her wine immediately. "War means the king calls for more men. They leave their wives, and with no one to warm their bed, they come to us."

"Precisely." Lauryn agreed readily. "If war comes, I welcome it. I don't give a shit who sits the throne, as long as the crown prospers enough to put gold in my pocket." She lifted her goblet, a smirk on her face at her own clever musing.

"I'll drink to that." Another girl called from the back, which caused an rupture of quiet laughter through the room.

As you passed to fill an empty cup, Sylvi grabbed you arm, and pulled you in close enough to whisper.

"I require a moment with you." At your confirming nod, she raised from her seat and left to her room. You were quick to follow, leaving the carafe with the girls, who took it readily and saluted your departure.

Once in her lavish rooms, Sylvi sat at her vanity and peered at you through the mirror, an air of drama filled the room and caused you to rock on your toes in an attempt to soothe yourself.

"I see you've met the Prince."

Oh. You'd thought surely this would be a serious conversation, but as you had spoken so few words to the man, you could not see how possibly she could have taken issue with your conversation. Unless the prince had told her about your grabbing the knife, in which you were in deep shit.

"Yes, ma'am." You sat in an armchair and folded your hands in your lap. "He came to ask for wine, and I had some sent with a squire, I believe."

"He seemed to take a liking to you." She brushed off your words just as she now did her hair, her lips pressed into a tight line that betrayed her nonchalant tone. "He asked for you, the next time he graced us with his patronage."

Your throat tightened and your stomach lurched. This can't be. Your conversations were short, and you had nearly insulted him, and then only half obeyed his order by sending someone in your stead with the wine. Perhaps he hoped for a moment alone so he could punish you for your insolence. Perhaps he was just playing at a joke, and Sylvi had taken it for more than he had meant it. Though he did not seem to you a joking type, and Sylvi seemed sure in her words.

Would she sell you to the prince? It hardly seemed as though you would be in a position to refuse, should he insist on a private meeting with you. But perhaps Sylvi had a sway with the prince that others did not.

"I...don't understand, ma'am. I do not-"

"Of course, I told him you were not that type of girl." She reassured. "He listens to me, you know. I'm one of the only he bears his heart to." Her voice took on a dreamier tone. "I'm the only woman he's known."

"I had no idea." I spoke distantly, still reeling at the idea of being asked for personally, and by a man of such high standing.

"What did you say to him? When he came to the kitchens. I sent him for wine, and he comes back without wine, and with a sudden interest in you" She turns around now, her eyes appraising and scrutinizing.

"I did not say anything, ma'am. I had mistaken him for a mere lord at first, I told him to leave. And then he ordered the wine, and I told him it would be done! I promise, there was nothing untoward, and no advances."

You spoke at a mile a minute to plead your case. It was clear this woman had an attachment to the prince, and you would not give the impression that you were there to threaten it. Sylvi was a kind woman, but a burn so scalding might just scorch her heart enough to cast you out.

"I swear it to you, ma'am. I've no interest in the prince, and he none in me. If anything, he only wishes to punish me privately for the way I behaved before I knew he was the prince." She nodded at your words.

"Nonetheless, I let him know you were not available. He did not take the refusal well, but such is his way. Dragons are not used to the word 'no'." She readjusted and smiled at you. "It's nothing to worry at, my dear. Just go about your duties, and do not speak to the prince again. He'll forget you in time." You nodded and stood to leave.

"Thank you. You've done such a kindness for me, and I owe you my life. I would never make such a slight against you, please know that." Her dismissing nod and small tired smile was enough for you to turn and take your leave.

The women had filled their bellies of wine and broth, and some began to make way to their beds, others staying around to gossip. You approached the lingering girls, grabbing a loaf from the table and sitting on a chair to eat.

"So, will you?" Lauryn, who still remained, asked you, as if the incomplete question was all you needed to know. When you only responded with a questioning look, she rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Will you fuck him? Everyone here heard the prince and Sylvi's clash. He wanted you. He begged for you!" The other girls began giggling and wiggling their eyebrows at you. "It drove her mad! He doesn't want her anymore."

"Not wanting Sylvi is one thing, but wanting you is another." Another girl, Maria, a Dornish delicacy, played with her hair as she spoke with a natural coolness. "If you don't want to, of course you shouldn't, but you should consider it. A prince would pay handsomely, perhaps even enough for you to move on."

"I would not do that to Sylvi, I would not do it at all. I wouldn't even know how, I'm not versed in the...fetishes of men."

"She told him such, but he would not hear it. He asked for an exception to be made, perhaps a private arrangement. If anything, it seemed to appeal to him more, knowing you were still untouched." Lauryn jumped back in, eager to return back to her teasing.

"I would only lay with a man I chose. I did not have the option before I left home, but I do now, and I will choose myself who I bed." And with that, you stood to leave, retiring to your room for the night.

[wraithlafitte]

you need to rest

pairing: sam winchester x reader

CONTENT: fluff, established relationship, reader is shorter than sam (but who isn't)

word count: 724

You tiptoed down the stairs from the second floor of Bobby's house, careful not to step on the places you knew creaked. You had awoken feeling the full effects of your dehydration, and needed a glass of water asap or you were certain your mouth would shrivel up and die.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you noticed a faint glow coming from inside the library. The men often stayed up late researching, so you didn't even look to see who it was, beelining to the kitchen to get your water.

The doors separating the library from the kitchen were closed, so it wasn't until you were on your way back to bed when you glanced inside the library.

It wasn't Bobby up late, like you assumed. It was Sam, laying over a pile of books, his head resting on his forearm like a pillow. His laptop was open in front of him, casting his face in a ghostly light that emphasized the tired lines etched into his skin.

You walked to the desk softly and placed your water glass down, leaning over Sam to close his browser windows and turn off his laptop.

You gently shook Sam's shoulder. He jerked upright and grabbed your arm, always ready for a fight. "It's just me, Sam," you whispered. He instantly relaxed and dropped your arm.

"Sorry," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Guess I fell asleep."

"It's four in the morning," you told him sympathetically. "You've been working yourself to the bone over this thing. You need to rest."

"I'm fine," Sam croaked. He looked haggard, dark bags under his eyes and lines carved into his brow from squinting.

A few moments from the past week clicked into place in your mind. Sam leaning against the kitchen counter, arms folded and eyes closed. Sam dozing off in the car on the way to town. Sam with his forehead pressed to a bookshelf, jumping when the book fell from his hand, and insisting that he hadn't been falling asleep. Going to bed before Sam and waking up with him not there.

"Jesus. How much sleep have you been getting?" you asked concernedly. "You look like shit."

"I don't know."

"Don't know or won't say because you know it's not enough?"

Sam heaved a sigh that turned into a yawn. "Maybe like, three hours a night? Two? I've gone longer with less."

"A year without a soul doesn't count," you said, swatting his arm. "Come on, we're going to bed."

"But-" he protested.

"Sam."

He closed his eyes defeatedly. "Okay. You win."

Sam rose from the chair slowly and grabbed you into his arms sleepily, resting his chin on your head.

You led him by his limp arm up the stairs to the room you two were staying in, although lately it had just been you. Sam didn't bother to put pajamas on, simply kicking off his shoes and falling face-first into the mattress. You giggled, setting your water down on the side table, and followed suit.

Sam peeked one eye open to look at you. You brushed his hair behind his ear. "You gotta take better care of yourself."

He smiled half-heartedly. "That's what I have you for," he teased. As you scoffed, he turned onto his side and pulled you against his chest. You snuggled against his warm body, face stuffed into his flannel, breathing in the scent of him.

You yawned, causing him to yawn as well, sending you both into a fit of giggles. You turned your face solemn again. "Promise me you'll come to bed when I do this week. At least."

Sam looked lovingly into your upturned face and kissed you on the forehead. "Promise," he whispered. His hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you close into his neck again.

You kissed the base of his throat. "I love you. I don't want you to run yourself into the ground."

He exhaled lightly. "I won't. I know you won't let me. And I know it's not your job to take care of me, but... I appreciate it."

Your arm curled around his side, rubbing his back. "I know," you said simply.

As the first pale fingers of dawn crept over the horizon, you and Sam had dozed off in each other's arms, breathing in tandem.

Finally resting.

divider by @saradika-graphics

[jymwahuwu]

Thoughts on Gym trainer Jing Yuan ◉o◉ Thinking like on the first day there's a lot of struggle on the equipment and basic stretching and Jing Yuan pops up to help, but they don't know that he's using this as an opportunity to grope and grind his cock on them as he stretches them that looks like a mating position from an outsider's view hehe

>_< I'm sorry that I updated after the promised time, and I couldn't help but sleep for two nights😹 But I really like the idea and thought about it a lot <3 Jing Yuan loves this fitness opportunity…

CW: yandere, non-consensual contact, inappropriate use of fitness equipment, mention of future non-con

Jing Yuan accidentally - okay, maybe intentionally - hacked your phone and discovered your gym membership credentials (the hacker followed his orders in Xianzhou). You book a day to experience fitness. That's your first day. first. The browser contains your search history for "fitness teaching". Jing Yuan is considerate and has not dug out your more private information. He knows everyone needs privacy! He really just wants to know where you will show up so he can go on a date with you…

That day, you arrived at the Universe Fitness Center belonging to Interastral Peace Corporation as scheduled. Some members are already working out, with an octopus-shaped customer running on a treadmill, while others are stretching. You looked around, biting your lip, starting to feel nervous. There is so much equipment here. How do you use these…? During your hesitation, you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure and your eyes widened. Why is General Jing Yuan here? He also noticed you and waved at you.

Jing Yuan explained that this is his hobby. He has purchased a 100-year membership. You stared at his broad and strong shoulders and swallowed. It turns out that he exercises outside of sleep time… The reputation of a general from a space civilization is well-deserved…

How about you? General asked with a smile.

You stutter and explain that this is your first time trying fitness, and you don't have a trainer. The reason may be that you have wanted to exercise for a long time, or maybe you won a free membership in a lottery… or a friend gave you a free fitness experience and enthusiastically helped you book it… The members here seem to be well-trained. You're afraid of making a fool of yourself. The considerate Jing Yuan of course offers to help you train and become familiar with the fitness equipment. You nodded gratefully.

Um, after warming up, the first step is to learn to use the leg press machine!! You can hear your breathing and heartbeat, slowly sit on the tilted cushioned seat, awkwardly stretch out your legs and step on the platform superior. A warm palm cupped your ass, and you almost screamed, but kept your voice low in panic.

"W-wait?! Jing Yuan, what are you doing?" "Oh? I'm helping you adjust your posture. Don't be nervous." He put on a perfect and polite smile, as if you were just making a fuss and it was normal . You tried to push his palm away from your ass. Jing Yuan still touched your butt before moving to your thighs, lifting your legs and moving you up. You tightened the muscles in your hips and stretched your legs unskillfully at his guidance.

Jing Yuan is standing in front of you, watching you nervously bend your knees and stretch your legs. Every time you get close, it's like you're under his body. His smile widened. Some fitness guests watching from the side felt that he was holding you down in a mating position...

How can you not learn to use hip abduction machine? He helped you sit on the mat. You kept your waist upright, panting from the first round of fitness exercises.

"H-how does this work?" Your eyes sparkled with trust and confusion. "This is - um, to train your butt muscles." Hearing these unabashed words, embarrassment washed over your face. You were about to suggest training with other equipment when you heard him say that you should try your best to open your legs and stretch your body.

You couldn't find a chance to refuse, so you could only grab the chair with both hands and struggle to stretch your legs out, your butt tightening in the process. Jing Yuan occasionally reaches out his hand and spreads your legs wider.

Oops, by the time the teaching process reaches the lying leg curl machine, you are already exhausted. In other words, you can be at the mercy of Jing Yuan. Jing Yuan tells you to lie face down on the machine. You groaned softly, your legs already trembling from lack of exercise. You grabbed the machine, bent your knees and raised your legs. There is a vague feeling that something hard is pressing against your buttocks… The hands are groping your buttocks, slapping and rubbing them. He told you it was for training…

Of course, no thrusting…yet.

Before leaving, you "promised" to Jing Yuan that you would attend "private fitness classes"…even though you said with tears in your eyes that you didn't want to exercise after that. The general has already planned for you to bring a small vibrator as part of your workout next time. He can’t wait for the day he penetrates you<3

[legy]

hi! i'm caelum. you might know me from @goldentruths-pod or from posting online. im in a financial quicksand pit and i really, really, really need help.

i'm disabled and receive approx ~$950 a month from social security. this has gone from "rough but survivable" when i first started receiving SSI to "i am literally not making ends meet" in 2024. right now my current status is that i am covering my basic needs but any kind of extra purchases are impossible. and the extra purchases i need to make keep piling up because i just can't afford them. some things i need include, in vague level of priority:

dolphin, my cat, is years overdue for a vet visit. this is going to be $300 minimum, possibly more because she has an adversarial relationship with the vet. she needs dental work done which they had quoted me as being $1500 but ive been putting it off for so long that i would not be surprised if that's more expensive too

i have learned today that my gold crown needs to be replaced. really unhappy about this one. it was a miserable experience the first time (everything that went wrong did go wrong, i'll spare you the details) but what is relevant here is that my insurance does not cover this and it was $900 last time. insurance also does not cover extracting the tooth either so that's cool. i have some time before this one is due (my next consult is in july)

my phone is approaching "unusably broken". i've had it for close to 4 years now. the call speaker no longer works (i can only use the phone on speaker mode) and it struggles to run apps or a web browser which makes things like GPS pretty dire. this would be like ~$100-$150 probably, i havent done serious phone shopping yet

my driver's license is expired and i need to get a new one. this was $110 last time. note i havent driven a car in years due to the disability but it's really valuable to have a universally recognized form of photo ID and ive already been hassled over it being expired

god this one is so embarrassing to get into but i had to flee my previous apartment last year due to it escalating into a DV situation. the other tenants did not pay the heating bill, which was in my name (and my dumb ass didnt close the account because it was the middle of february and i didnt want to freeze them to death) so i have a $250 utility bill in collections. i might be able to dispute or debt forgiveness this one but tbh ive been so fucking drained given everything else going on and also my phone barely works so i havent pursued it. especially since i can't afford to pay it if i cant challenge it

i would really like to have a passport again. my previous one was destroyed by my landlord in 2018 but even if it wasnt it'd also be expired now. not sure how much this one costs. likely $200?

my food stamps were slashed in half (covid emergency ending lol) and do not cover my food costs for the month so im paying like $150 a month on food that i didnt have to previously. i can maybe fix this one but im slowly losing my mind from malnutrition from trying to not go into debt and also eat. so i havent had it in me to go 1v1 welfare bureaucracy and possibly make everything even worse

my shoes are probably two months out from fully decomposing. they were $100 three years ago and id like to get something comparable given they lasted me this long

the rest of my clothes are also very literally becoming threadbare, falling apart, or are too big and keep slipping off. i legitimately feel embarrassed to go in public these days because i dress so shitty all the time

insurance doesnt cover my HRT anymore so that's $30 a month i didnt used to have to pay

im sorry this turned into such a ramble. i'm in such a bad way right now, i have been for quite a while and the dental work news is really just the final straw. i can't really have a fundraising goal because due to the SSI asset limit i can never own more than $2000. & i'm aware both that this is the poor people sending each other the same 20 dollars website and that there are people urgently trying to raise money to escape an active genocide. but i held off from making this post as long as possible & idk what else i can do

anyway if theres anything you can contribute to help me i would appreciate it more than anything. at the very least i need to do something about my tooth.

http://paypal.me/hivehum

[qin-qin16]

My computer is possessed?! Oh, wait, it's just my out-coded skeleton boyfriend!

Summary: When some of your work in progress goes missing, you decide to start investigating whether your computer has a virus. That is until you realize that the few remaining works are of one character: Error Sans. cw: comedy, kinitoPET and creepypasta vibes, Error is an asshole and Reader is stressed, gn!reader, dark jokes about suicide, but nothing serious, we have a bit of jealousy Error, writer Reader…  note: I finally wrote down this idea from weeks ago lol and the divider is from @sister-lucifer (Part one) (Part two)

You would never forgive yourself.

Five hours of work. Five. And it all vanished with a simple power outage. The entire neighborhood was in the dark for hours — and when the power finally came back, everyone heard the lengthy stream of insults and curses you hurled at yourself when your computer screen went blank; there were no files saved in the cloud and no trace of everything you had written.

Your body glides over the wheeled chair as you slowly spin in circles, “Eu quero me matar…” You murmur, without any genuine or serious inflection in your words, even though deep down in your mind, there’s a certain desire to end the emptiness that lingers from your anger.

“Three pages… three damn pages…” You run your hand over your face, resting it on your mouth as you feel your eyes sting from the static white of the computer screen. “I can’t believe it.” You finish, still in disbelief over the unexpected blackout.

You know that old saying, “I’ll believe it when I see it”? Well, the problem was right in front of you: a completely empty Word document, except for a few notes saved before everything was lost. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe what you were seeing.

“I’m not going to write all that again! I can’t even remember the last thing I wrote!” you rant to no one but the lifeless machine in front of you, running both hands through your hair and tangling it with unnecessary force — leaving only irritation in certain spots on your scalp and strands of hair sticking out in every direction.

Settling into the chair — legs crossed and leaning forward like a shrimp — you start closing all the tabs left open on the computer, not caring at all about what’s saved or not. All you want to do right now is shut off that old piece of junk (that can't even handle an internet outage) and go grab something to eat. Maybe that would help you relax and distract yourself from this mess.

However, the large ERROR 505 flashing on the screen interrupted your ongoing stream of frustration. 

The damn title, accompanied by a series of codes that made no sense to you, was plastered on the last tab of your browser, just waiting to be closed. But even after you clicked the little red box three times — eager to shut the window as quickly as possible — the page stayed open. 

It felt almost as if it were mocking you. Almost…

“Perfect! Just what I needed!” You don’t hesitate to slap the monitor, taking out all your anger on the old machine. “Now even the damn Google isn’t working!” Your grunt is muffled as you bury your face in your hands, holding back the scream that desperately wants to burst from your throat.

“God, if you exist, why are you punishing me like this?” Your murmurs are heard only by the computer as it continues to mock your suffering with the bright white screen — and that damn ERROR 505 displayed at your face.

“Know what? Screw it, I don’t care.” With your hands thrown up in defeat, you finally surrender, tired and out of patience to battle this cursed error.

This is worse than when the Ao3 is down—no, I can't exaggerate like that, you think to yourself as you crouch in your chair searching for the charger’s plug. If this page won’t close on its own, then it’ll have to be forced; nothing beats unplugging the old computer directly from the outlet.

Which turned out to be a challenging task, not only because of your awkward and uncomfortable position in the wheeled chair, but also due to the mess of wires and cables under your desk. You didn’t even know which one belonged to your computer, let alone where the outlet was.

“Maybe it’s best to just yank everything and hope the outlet comes with it.” You go back to your original position, stretching your spine and letting out a quiet grunt as a pop resonates from your back. “I need to stop spending hours sitting in front of the computer.” Your grumble is nothing more than a hollow promise, unlike your spine, which was definitely promising to develop some kind of scoliosis.

“Okay, here we go— what the hell is this?” you exclaim, and even though your voice lacks any emotion — probably exhausted from all the shouting earlier — your jaw drops, matching the widening of your eyes as you see that the once flashy ERROR 505 screen has now changed to a completely different tab.

What had once been a white background filled with bold text was suddenly replaced by your Tumblr homepage... featuring countless fan arts of Error Sans scattered throughout your feed.

It wasn’t unusual for you to search for fan art and fanfics about him; in fact, the number of tags you followed with his name was far too many to count on both hands!

However, today was not one of those days. In fact, you had been trying to set aside your obsession with the glitchy skeleton to focus on other Sanses. Those three pages you lost forever were actually part of a fanfic about Cross x Reader that you had been working on for a few days.

So… why did the page load with this theme that you had been ignoring?

It doesn’t matter, I’ll just close this tab and—oh my God, what a gorgeous fan art! You quickly get distracted by the artwork on your screen, and without hesitation, your finger starts clicking rapidly on the mouse, liking and reblogging as fast as you can.

You must have been very tired not to notice the muffled sound coming from your computer — different from the noises it made when starting up or running a virus scan. No, no, this sounded oddly like a stilted laugh, as if the audio had been chopped into pieces.

But why would you pay attention to that? Computers couldn’t laugh, especially not at your half-closed eyes and the sentences you’d written incorrectly because you were sleepy…

Right?

Tagging the people who wanted to see a fanfic of this:

@snastheskeleton64, @moonpieandfries12345, @lostsoulsofdragon, @mrcatmario, @something-random1-1-blog, @joonebugg, @crunchontoast, @honeybubbletea33, @what-have-i-unleashed, @leafwateraddict, @sweethoneybear, @sleepy-batz

If you want to be tagged in part two, please let me know :D

[auberylis]

Something seriously overpowered is brewing... >:3

You know MyArtGallery? A thing i made for neocities so that artists could easily run their online galleries? Well guess what..

i'm slowly but steadily developing an application that runs on your own computer and lets you install the latest MyAG version automatically, and post to it without ever manually uploading images through the neocities file browser or touching XML. It's gonna be so cool - almost like deviantart, but you own it almost completely and can change anything if you want!

I also want to add couple more "channel types" to this system - like an update log and a text blog, that could also be ran from this panel... but first, to make MyAG as comfortable as possible.

Follow if you want more updates on this system.

P.S. oops, forgot to remove the funny test tabs for the screenshot. Whatever, i stand by my tf2 soldier jokes. It's ok, i keep finding painises around my code all the time anyway - pretty sure there's a couple in MyAG right now

[multixsposts]

Roommates.

Context-> This is about roommate Gojo Satoru being a pervert! he’s overly obsessed with the reader, he invades the reader’s privacy and steals the readers clothing.

kinks mentioned-> bondage, over stimulation.

Fandom-> Jujutsu Kaisen.

Ship-> GojoSatoruxReader!

->please keep in mind that the readers gender is not specified through this short story.

a/n-> this is my first time ever writing something like this, go easy on me! 🤠

this story is for 18+ minors DNI

You were off running your usual errands of the day, getting hygiene products, groceries, Necessities that you need for the house and so on, but during this time while you were out in your own little world. You had no clue that your roommate, Satoru Gojo, was snooping through your room.

Invading your privacy.

Going through your drawers specifically the night stand next to your bed. His eyes widening as the shock never fails to leave him every time he opens this drawer his mind wondering off to what you do with all of this toys you have hidden away.

hidden from him.

yeah he knows his obsession with you is completely one sided, but who is to say he can’t enjoy himself when you go out?. He needs this time. He has to have it.

But lately his mind has been screaming at him to search through your laptop. He’s never gone that far before, never even dared to look through it.

He checked his phone just to see how much time he had left.

You’ve only been gone for about 25 minutes. 10 of it was him waiting in his own room just in case you came back because you left something and or wanted to double check that he didn’t want to come along with you, which happened a lot. and it made his heart swell with more love for you.

But to you?. You were just being friendly. You didn’t think anything of it. never have.

The other 15 minutes?. He’s been enjoying your room.

He walks over to your desk and takes a seat in your chair.

Carefully and slowly opening up your laptop, The excitement he was feeling diles down some when he gets hit in the face with a login credential.

Of fucking course you would have a passcode on this thing. Why didn’t he think of that?.

He huffs out a sigh as he carefully but quickly looks around and in the drawers of your desk just to see if you so happen to write it down anywhere and be so careless to leave out for him- anyone- to find.

He searches for a good 5 minutes finally finding a small piece of paper taped to the underside of your desk drawer. He smirks to himself.

You’re sneaky.

The thought alone made himself twitch in his pants, But he ignores it for now and eagerly types the password in a smile dancing its way onto his lips as it lets him in.

He moves the cursor towards your photo app almost instantly.

He freezes, his dick hardening underneath his sweats as he stares at the nude picture you took just a couple of days ago.

“fuck..” he says a small whine following after his vulgar words.

His hand reaches for his phone as he snaps a picture of it to keep for later while he cums into a pair of your underwear that he keeps underneath his pillow.

He continues to lurk through your photos, pictures of you and your friends, candid photos they took of you. Snapping quick pics of the ones he favored the most.

Something came to his mind.

What kind of porn do you watch?. Vanilla?. No..he believes you’re an absolute slut in bed. You just hide it underneath that do-gooder, personality you have making everyone think you’re as innocent as you look, but he knows you’re not and he’s about to prove his point.

He makes his way to your browser history heat rising to his cheeks when he didn’t even have to scroll down that far.

Holy shit..he looks over to your bed and then back at the laptop. You…couldn’t have done anything before you left right?. He would have heard you.

Like he’s done before. Listening through the other side of your door quietly as you come undone, the soft mewls and whines that leave your lips have him bust in his boxers without him even touching himself.

He groans loudly as he quickly remembers that he took a shower before you left, how could he miss something so important?!.

He curses himself as he clinks on one of the links and he smirks. This is the type of porn you watch?..

Bondage?. You like watching people being tied up?.. as he continues to watch the video his smirk grows even wider.

Over stimulation.

Satoru is 100% sure there’s a lot more than just this video, but just from watching this one ? he could tell right away that he was right. When has he ever been wrong?.

You were an absolute fucking slut in the bed. If only he could experience it in person, He wonders if you’ve actually tried doing this with someone before? He closes his eyes, imagining how you would look tied up to the bed a blindfold over your pretty eyes and his cum all over your-

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You had come home to find satoru in your room, your private space. Your face was beat red with embarrassment and anger.

His eyes snap open and he stares at you, eyes wide, hands shaking, heart racing at the fact that he got caught. After all this time of sneaking around he finally got caught.

“y-y/n” he stammers out as he stands up from your chair and looks at you with apologetic eyes.

“it’s n-not what it looks like”

“really?! because it looks like you’re going through my laptop watching my…p-porn!” Fuck, the word porn leaving your mouth just made you want to die even more. This was something you kept private from everyone. and he invaded something so personal, you feel disgusted knowing that someone now knows of your guilty pleasures. That someone being your roommate that just so happens to be a really good looking guy, but that doesn’t matter right now! you are furious! and little hurt at the fact that he would do this to you.

“shit- y/n i’m sorry! i really am.” he defends himself and you scoff. Your eyes glancing down at the very obvious bulge in his pants, the shiver that went down your spine went ignored as you glare at him.

“out.” you tell him sharply.

“y/n-” he pleaded

“OUT” Your voice bounces off the walls as he quickly makes his way out of your room and into his locking the door behind him in the process.

He couldn’t lie though..the fact that he got caught by you made him so hard it hurt.

He knew he hurt you, embarrassed you. He hated being this way, a pervert, but he couldn’t help it. He knew it was wrong but if you’d just let him fuck you like he’s dreamed about every night he wouldn’t be this way.

His dick is pulsating at this point. Though he does something that he’s never done when it came to you. He decided to take a cold shower.

He didn’t deserve to cum to that picture of you, especially in your underwear.

Even though that was thing he wanted to do the most.

[peachesofteal]

Combat Baby

Dead Disco Masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2.7k words 18+ Minors DNI. No smut but this fic contains mature themes. Feelings of fear, sadness and anxiety. Discussions of blood and injury. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals. Comfort and fluff. Angst. Established throuple. You get a phone call in the middle of the night. This takes place sometime before Chapter 1 of Dead Disco. It can be read as a standalone.

It’s the middle of the night when the phone rings. It vibrates against the nightstand, the rattle slowly bringing you to consciousness and you blink a few times to shake free the fog of sleep. 

The screen displays a blocked number. 

Your stomach becomes a pit. 

“Hello?” A British man says your name on the other line, the accent different from Simon’s, but still heavy, still thick. You don’t recognize it, and that lone fact has you sitting straight up. 

“Yes?” 

“This is Captain Price. I’m the commanding officer of the 141 and on scene at St George’s hospital.” Your body jolts, heart stopping dead in your chest. Oh no, god no please. Don’t let them be dead, don’t- “Ma’am?”

“I-I’m here.” You half swallow the words to try to prevent the panic from spilling out of your mouth. 

“Soap asked me to call ya, see if you could come down here.” 

“What’s going on? Is he okay? Where’s Si-“ 

“I can’t tell you anything else, just that he wants you to come down.” Your fingers fly onto a web browser to look up the hospital, a tiny sliver of relief twisting in your gut when you see it’s not incredibly far away. Not close, but doable with a few trains. The sleep that has been trying to spring free has completely evaporated, leaving your eyes wide and pulse racing, fear rapidly spreading through your veins while your mind conjures every single worst case scenario it could come up with. “Okay?” The captain’s voice is gentler now, encouraging, and you nod in the dark. 

“Okay… y-yeah. I’m on my way.” 

The hospital is bright. When you run through the lobby doors, it’s the first thing you notice. The walls are white, too white, and well lit, illuminating everything, every person in the giant room. You search their faces hurriedly, throat tight with worry while you decide that none of them are Johnny or Simon, and you practically throw yourself at the front desk. 

“Hi, uh, I’m looking. I’m looking for my partner? He’s-“ A British accent calls your name and you whirl to see a man in uniform standing behind you, his hand waving the receptionist off and gesturing for you to follow him through a set of double doors. 

“I’m Captain Price, we spoke on the phone.” Of course. 

“Yeah, where’s Johnny? And Simon?” You blow past his pleasantries because you honestly don’t care. You want to see your guys. You want to know what’s going on, and you want to know right now. The captain considers you thoughtfully for a moment, a short second that feels like an hour, before another set of doors is banging open to reveal- 

“Darling.” It’s Johnny. Johnny’s here. Johnny’s standing a few feet in front of you with his arms open. Johnny’s wearing his uniform that has a giant stain on the front. Johnny’s wearing his uniform that has a giant red stain on the front. 

You launch yourself into him without a second through, without a care about anyone watching, and press your face into his neck to take a deep breath. 

“Are you okay? Where is Si? Is he okay?” You babble, pulling away to get a better look at his face. He looks exhausted, and weary, and sad and you want to fold him into you again and never let go. Johnny is strong, he’s so strong even when he doesn’t want to be and right now, you can tell, he doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want to be in command, doesn’t want to hold everything up. Guilt burns into your brain when you realize it’s for you, the strength is for you, even though he’s off balance, off kilter, he’s holding it together in this moment for you. “Johnny.” It’s a whisper, soft and raw, and he brings you back into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around your body and holding you to him while he presses his nose into your hair, shuddering a barely contained exhale. You hold him back, desperate to wrap your arms around him, stroking a hand up and down his spine slowly while you take deep, measured breaths. You bite your tongue against the overflowing bounty of questions you have, pausing to just be here, in his arms, his face buried in your neck. You try not to push him, try not to force it out of him. He’ll tell you, you know he will. He speaks every love language that exists between the three of you, communicates clearly when your head is a mess and your thoughts are all jumbled, sees you when you’re lost and pulls you back to shore. He makes Simon tea at one in the morning when he can’t sleep, he forces you to put your sneakers on and then pushes you out the door in the middle of the day so you can enjoy the sunshine. He gives you more than you could ever give back, and this moment is a dark, glaring reminder of that fact. 

He pulls away, giving someone a nod, you assume the captain, and leads you over to where a group of chairs sit. 

“Where is he?” You haven’t let go of him, gripping on like he’s your lifeline, and he lowers you into a chair before sitting down in the one next to you. 

“He’s in surgery.” 

“Okay. Is he going to be okay?” 

“Love.” You slam your eyes shut. No no no. “The doctor thinks there is a good chance he’s completely fine, but it was a very serious…” he pauses, and you know it’s because he’s trying to choose the right words “injury, and he had to go into surgery right away. He wasn’t conscious.” 

“A good chance.” You repeat it and he nods. A good chance. You try to fight the emotion that wells up inside your heart, but it’s no use, and you’re choking out a sob within a second, Johnny nestling you back into him, palm rubbing up and down your back. 

“Shhh. Everything’s alright now. Ye know he’s a strong bastard.” You bob your head in a halfhearted nod, but it’s hard to keep yourself afloat when you think about Simon alone in an operating room, with “a good chance.” Your lungs suddenly feel tight, the air in the room becoming a flimsy, feeble thing you’re not even sure exists. A good chance. A good chance? That’s… a chance. A chance he will be okay. A chance he will live. Not a given. Not even the starting point, just a chance, a good- “Darling.” Johnny’s fingers pull your chin upwards, until he’s forcing you to look at him, a warm palm moving to cradle your face when he’s satisfied he’s got your full attention. “I need you here, with me. Stay with me.” He doesn’t need to say anything else; you know. You know what he’s asking. You know he’s coaxing you to stay present, to not go down a long dark path, to keep yourself with him, and not below the cresting waves of your own heart, your own brain. 

You swallow the saliva that’s building in the corner of your cheek and squeeze his hand. You can do it. You can do it for him. For Simon. For them. For all of you. 

“Hard to kill right? Like you’re always saying at home?” The whisper brings a glimpse of a smile to Johnny’s face. 

“Thas’ right, love.” 

You wait for a long time. Johnny holds you, and you alternate between rubbing his shoulders and clutching his hand, your anxiety turning you restless as you shift relentlessly in the uncomfortable chairs. He slowly starts to tell you what he can about what happened, how Simon got separated from the team he was with, how he ended up outnumbered in an impossible situation, how he fought like hell and won. He recounts how he heard Simon calling for him over the radio in a moment of desperation, a pure loss of control, a last-ditch effort to hear his voice, and vice versa. He tells you that Simon made him promise in the helicopter to call you, as soon as they landed, because he wanted to see your face before he went in for surgery. He knew you’d be scared if Kyle or Price was the one to wake you up, and he didn’t want that. 

“He was still… talking, in the helicopter. I didn’t think… he was in that bad of shape, on the way. I think he was bleeding. Internally. And that’s why he faded out when we got here.” You nod, tracing a pattern of dirt on Johnny’s forearm methodically, timing it’s ups and downs with your own breathing. “Everything changed so fast. I’m sorry I had Price call. There was paperwork and they needed it as soon as possible and I didn’t want to wait to get ya here, I didn’t do as he asked but I-“  His voice chokes to a stop abruptly, and there’s a tear, on his cheek. Just the hint of one, shining beneath the awful ceiling lights of the hospital and you press your lips to it, trying to keep them from trembling against his skin. 

“It’s okay, Johnny. It’s okay.” You’re about to tell him to forget it, that he didn’t let Simon down, that everything is alright, when a doctor in a white coat comes through the doors with a smile on her face, her long legs carrying her over to stand before the two of in a blink. 

She’s smiling. The chance was good. It’s good. He’s good. 

“Mr. Riley?” She says, and you choke on a surprised gasp before you look to Johnny with a raised eyebrow. Uh… what? He pats your thigh affectionately before nodding and pulling you to your feet alongside him. 

“Yes, is he okay?” He spits, over eager, anxious and rushed to hear whatever it is she has to say. He too, has no time for pleasantries. 

“Your husband is out of surgery and stable. He should make a full recovery. We’ll go over discharge instructions and he’ll be here for a few days until I’m comfortable with his progress on antibiotics but, he’s in good shape.” Your husband. You bury the word deep, covering it with a whole mountain of other thoughts before you dwell on it. They would have told you, right? They wouldn’t have gotten married without you, would they? On a mission? The notion makes you feel nauseas, and then the guilt swallows you whole. Get a fucking grip. Simon is hurt. 

“When can we see him?” You blurt. 

“He’s still in post op right now, but I can bring you to his room to wait for when he’s settled in, how does that sound? He’ll probably be asleep for a while, but you can be there while you wait for him to wake up.”  

“Yes, please. Thank you.” Johnny wraps an arm around your shoulder and presses his lips to your temple with a fierce intensity. “Thank you, so much.” She gives the two of you a smile before leading you down the hall, and Johnny holds you close to him the entire time. 

Simon’s okay. He’s going to be okay. 

He looks too big in the bed. His shoulders stretch the width of the mattress, his hospital gown not even snapped closed, just draped over his torso, covering the white bandages are wrapped around his ribs. You stroke the side of his cheek, fingers tracing along his jaw line gently, pushing some strands of dirty blonde hair from his face while you whisper lowly. 

“We’re here, Si. We’re right here. Everything’s okay.” You’ve been trying not to watch the clock, trying not to count the minutes, over eager and impatient for Simon to wake up and finally open his eyes. You want to see him, blinking, breathing, speaking, before you finally feel at peace, and you can’t stand to see him unconscious, immobile, in a bed. He’d hate it. You know it, you know he’d hate it if he was awake, know he’s going to hate it, when he does wake, and you’re anxious to soothe him, even in his sleep. Anxious to lay your ear against his heart and count the heavy thumps of the muscle, eager to wrap yourself around him so he knows you’re here. You’re anxious to see his wry smile, see the flutter of his lashes, hear his voice. He’s so beautiful, so… unearthly to you that sometimes when you look at him you think you might be in a dream yourself. He’s your rock, your immovable force that never falters, never fails you, or Johnny. Holds you both steady. He looks so peaceful, so serene in this moment, even though you know in his mind, it’s far from the reality, and you hope he’s not dreaming in hell, experiencing his nightmares trapped in sedation. We’re here, I’m here. It’s okay. 

On the other hand, you’re not eager to wake Johnny, who’s asleep in the chair opposite you, Simon’s hand clutched in his, his head sideways on the bed next to Simon’s thigh, mouth open with a slow drip of drool pooling from it. He’s exhausted. Hasn’t sleep in 29 hours and he stayed awake for four hours after Simon was brought back to the room, trying for as long as he could until he just couldn’t keep his head up anymore. He needs rest. Your heart flutters when you look at him, the scruff of his mohawk laying against the white blanket wrapped around Simon’s leg, his features blank as he drifts in a dreamworld far away. He’s so sweet, so perfect that it makes your heart hurt, like someone’s emptied ice into your chest cavity and you can’t help but reach across and stroke a thumb across his knuckles in time with your other against Simon’s cheek. 

An hour later, Simon’s hand spasms, and you watch his eyelids start to twitch, body tensing in the bed as both you and Johnny jump to your feet so you can see his face. 

“Simon? Hey.” You stroke your fingers along the inside of his palm gently, trying to ease him into consciousness, while Johnny hovers closer, knuckles white against the rail, his free hand on Si’s shoulder, the touch gentle and reassuring. Simon slurs your name, then Johnny’s, then Johnny’s again before groaning: 

“Darling.”

“We’re here.” You rush out, the swell of your emotions rising up the back of your throat while you wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand. “Right here.” 

“Are you in pain?” Johnny asks, but he’s already pushed the button, and you both step back when the nurse comes in so she can give him pain meds and check the monitors. When she’s finished, the two of you surge forward, retaking your places and you finally get to see that crescent moon smile on his lips, the ghost of his happiness surfacing from beneath everything else going on, the pain, the trauma, the sedation. 

“You’re here.” He whispers, eyes moving between the two of you. Johnny lowers himself to touch his forehead to Simon’s, before tracing the lightest kiss across his lips. 

“Of course, we are, ya mad bastard. Don’t ever fuckin’ do that again.” He says and Simon grunts, hand shooting out to grab his with a squeeze while his other palm presses to your cheek. You hold it there with one of your own hands, tears dripping from your eyes while his thumb strokes back and forth across your skin. 

“’m sorry I scared ya.” He grits out and you break into a soft, relieved smile. 

“Don’t be. We’re just so happy you’re okay.” 

 “I’m alright, darling. Can’t be leavin’ you two alone anytime soon.” His eyes droop, lids trying to shut and you know the pain medicine is pulling him back under, where he can sleep and heal until it’s time to wake again. He fights it, but it’s a losing battle. 

“It’s alright, Si.” You soothe him. “Go back to sleep. We’ll be here while you rest.”

“Y’promise?” He sounds a little spacey, a little loopy, and Johnny smiles while you stroke his hair in a rhythmic pattern, just how he likes at home. 

“We promise.” 

[mrsjobarnes]

Not the Only Cowboy - Chapter 5

Summary: Jake had never been the type of guy to fall first, maybe you’ll be the one to change that. 

A/N~ Sorry this took so long guys, I had writer's block, and then uni started and it got put on the back burner! However, I’m back and ready to finish this story! Also a huge Thank you to @angel-0f-verdun for helping me with this!

Jake Sersin x Nurse!reader 

Word count: 1,172

Warning: Abuse, Angst, Violence 

Likes & comments are welcome! 

Please do not steal my work! 

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

2 weeks. It took you two weeks for you to leave the guest room. You requested time off and were granted 2 weeks but after that, you’d have to go back, back to the place that no longer felt safe since Blake had found you. 

He had crossed the country to find you, he didn’t care about the restraining order or that you had only packed the essentials and moved. No, you were still his, his to control, his to break, his to own till death, and even after that. You were his baby, his honey, his sugar, and he needs you back home. Your love hasn't always been like this. He was your college sweetheart, you were his tutor. His smart, kind, patient, and outgoing Y/N/N. After he graduated he went into the Navy to be a navigator and you continued your nursing school. Once you had graduated you became a civilian nurse serving on base. It was picture-perfect if you ignored the screaming matches and the occasional pushing and shoving. It didn't get bad until you were treating some of the naval men and he saw them flirting with you. 

That's when the abuse started, he’d beat you within an inch of your life in places no one could see. He’d even threaten to shoot and kill you if you ran away. No one noticed till you were wearing long sleeves in a Virginia July. That's when your charge nurse Maggie asked you. You tried to lie but the 55-year-old saw right through you. She slipped a paper in your locker later that night with several phone numbers to call for help. You knew that she was just looking out for you but, at the moment you felt hurt and angry. Thankfully, the calm part of you kept that note and hid it in your locker. After six months of plotting with Maggie, the clouds parted and Blake was given orders to be deployed for 2 months. You took that as your chance to run. After saying your goodbyes, you sold your car and changed your phone and phone number, opened up a new bank account and purchased a plane ticket to your new haven.  

It was your haven until he showed up. Destroying all you had built up, all of the work you’d put into making this place feel like a safe place had just been squashed by him. So here you are lying in Phoenix’s guest room, scared he’ll break through the second-story windows or the door.  He’d threatened to kill you before who’s to say he won’t kill Phoenix to get to you? You need to start over again, how far would you go this time? Coast hopping didn’t work, maybe you needed to go to a northern state, he did hate the cold. Maybe in a small town in Montana, get a job at a hospital this time. Yes, that should work. You’ll just choose the smallest town possible, maybe ditch your phone and switch to a pager, they still had those right? You hear a knock at the front door. Your blood runs ice cold, and quickly you run into the ensuite bathroom and lock the door. 

“Hey, Y/N it’s just me,” says Phoenix. “I bought groceries, what do you want for dinner?” she asks from the kitchen. You slowly exit the bathroom and start to head to the door, placing your hand on the handle you stop. Maybe you should just run at night and just take what you had here, grab your car, withdraw most of your money from the bank and run. By not telling anyone it would keep them safe right? Turning around, you text Phoenix that you’re not hungry and ask if she is going out tonight. She replies that she is, unless you want to talk. You tell her to enjoy her night and start researching on a private browser about where to go, maybe Sidney, Montana. It seemed small enough that no one would think to look there, now to look at apartments. After googling for about 30 minutes, Phoenix shouts that she’s leaving. Walking over to the window you peer out waiting till she leaves. Once the coast was clear you quickly started packing a bag and making a mental checklist of what you needed to do. 

Pack 

Shower 

get food

Leave a note 

Call Uber to the base 

Bank and gas 

— 

25 minutes had passed and all you needed to do was get food and gas then stop at the bank, but first, you needed to get your car.  You bring all of your things to the door. When all of a sudden you hear someone knocking at the front door. “Fuck” you whisper under your breath. Quietly you grab a kitchen knife and look through the peephole. When you are met with the most perfect green eyes. It was just Jake, you sigh and put the knife down. “Go away Jake,” you say through the door.

“Phoenix gave me a key, I’m coming in,” he asks. 

“No, go away,” you say. He doesn’t listen and slowly enters the apartment. You grab the knife and point it at him, enraged he didn’t listen. “I said don’t come in Jake,” you say, clenching the knife for dear life. As he crosses the threshold, the two of you make eye contact. He has never seen someone so broken and scared, it breaks his heart.  

“Hey Y/N” he says slowly approaching, you clench the knife trying to push back the fear. It's Jake, he’s not going to hurt you, but you thought the same thing of Blake. How could you have been so stupid? “Y/N Imma need you to put the knife down darling, I just want to talk okay?” he said, itching closer to you. 

“Jake please leave, I don't want to talk. I just want to be left alone” 

“No it looks like you're trying to run” he says pointing to the suitcase and backpack next to the door”. 

“Why does it matter if I do? I have only brought trouble into the team's life. I've taken over Phoenix house and probably have a write-up at work for causing a scene. So just let me go, you’ll be fine without me.” you say hesitantly placing the knife down. 

“No” 

“No? What do you mean, No?” you say looking into his eyes. 

“No, what about me? I know that’s selfish but you can’t leave me. I was an ass before I met you, I didn't care if I died on a mission as long as I went out in a blaze of glory, but now you’ve given me something to care about, someone who wants to come home too. So please stay, we can get you help. Cyclone says he could look into it, he just needs your permission.” Jake hesitantly walked up to you and cupped your face. 

“Can you promise that you won't hurt me? '' You say as your eyes glisten with tears. 

“I promise,” Jake says, pulling you into a hug. 

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[the-64th-gamer]

I feel like the last year has been a great push for me to slowly detach myself from giant companies and ensure what I do is in my control and ownership

Finally switched over to linux permanently

switched to firefox

enabled adblocker, sponsor blockers, and tracker removers

disabled autoplay and the recommendations sidebar on YouTube (highly highly encourage, though I still keep the homepage open so I can choose when to browse new suggested content rather than it pestering me)

downloaded all my tumblr posts and now host them parallel on my website (stuck here until we find some decentralized way of doing social media right)

cleared out 99% of my online storage to now be on multiple hard-drive backups

downloaded locally all my music

removed myself from basically every data tracking social media platform except this and YouTube

And now currently I'm trying to consolidate all my feeds into just an RSS reader.

It takes a long time and a lot of planning, but its very rewarding to take control over what you want to see, how you see it, how its formatted, ect. I find these are my steps to an easy transition off a certain service:

Download all your data and back it up. Now your account can be deleted at any time with no remorse.

Find browser extensions that enhance and modify the experience to what you might need. Use that to tangibly guide your preferences. Go ahead and remove the app on your phone if its there.

Research every alternative service and try them out. Begin moving certain activity exclusively to the alternative. Take time getting used to it and see if its better to try more alternatives.

Completely jump ship, delete the account, move all feeds or settings over.

Its an ongoing process but there's still probably a few more years of this to go through. Future plans are:

Completely remove all prior emails and self host a new one

Get off Discord entirely except for running the wiki server. It sucks that Discord is so prevalent. Probably move to various forums. Maybe look into some sort of forum management software such as how RSS feeds tame articles and videos into one place.

Setup adblockers directly into my router so ads won't even appear on phones.

Setup my phone to just straight up also run linux. There's a few mobile-designed linux platforms to look into until I decide.