#tooth pain is fucking horrific

[leonfagkennedy]

i have a tooth infection and i've been in severe pain for the last two days and i just cant just do this anymore. i have never actively wished to die more than now. for the love of god i just want it to stop. i cant eat. i cant sleep. this is actual hell.

[violet-jessop]

i think that after spending $11,691 on my teeth in the last 18 months, if one of my front teeth falls out then killing myself can't be considered drastic or unreasonable action

[rosielav]

Having a seizure at work when Im already short on hours cause we closed for a day for the storm feels unfair

I'm in so much pain rn

[shotmrmiller]

A chance encounter.

Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F! Reader

TW: none other than TOOTH ROTTING CUTE FLUFF

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

You have had a bad week but today has been horrific. You had awoken 15 minutes before the alarm, get up to shower, and the water had gone ice cold when you had shampoo in your hair.Stumbling out after a freezing shower, you were pulling on a tank top when the back of it twisted because you didn't fully dry yourself so that had you fighting it for 10 minutes and you still had to squeeze into an office skirt and button up. You ran as fast as you could in heels to your car and drove at an illegal speed to try and get to work on time— only to have your boss drown you in paperwork before snapping at you about a lack of coffee on his desk. Your only reprieve is that it's Friday and you don't work Monday. Fuck this job, fuck this week, and fuck whoever jammed the paper printer and left it like that.

Looking at the clock, you see the end of your shift has come— and you couldn't grab your keys and sprint out of the door fast enough. All you could think about was going to a grocery store and getting a bottle of wine before going home and ordering some Mexican food.

----

Standing in the alcohol section, you're biting the tip of your thumb as you try to pick which brand of cheap wine would give you the least painful hangover when a baritone voice from behind you interrupts your train of thought.

"I wouldn't recommend you a two-buck chuck for a Friday evening."

Without facing him, you say, "I'm sorry?"

With a lovely British accent, he translates. "A box of red Moscato will serve you in nothing but a terrible headache."

Scoffing, you turn to tell him to piss off— but your retort is caught in your throat. A beautiful man is the owner of that voice. Bronze complexion and tall like a runway model with a cap that had the U.K. flag on it. Chocolate eyes, straight nose, sculpted jaw, lush lips and a 5 o'clock shadow. He looked like a man out of a romance movie.

Your cheeks redden and stammer, "I— uh, don't want to pay for a good bottle I plan on getting drunk on."

He lets out a laugh, straight white teeth with pointy canines— you curse your weakness for mythical creatures— and extends his hand.

"Gaz. Gaz Garrick."

Shaking his hand, you give him your name.

"Well, speaking of wine, I'd love to personally recommend you a bottle over dinner."

'This isn't real,' you think. 'What could a man carved by Michaelangelo himself want with someone like you?'

He takes in your gaping mouth and widened eyes as a response.

"If you want, of course," he falters, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfo—"

"No!" you interrupt, "I mean yes! I'd love to go out to dinner with you, Kyle."

He relaxes his shoulders before letting out another entrancing laugh.

"Right, well, if you like— since I know you've got plans tonight— we exchange cell numbers and we can plan a date when it's the most convenient for you. I'll be in America for a bit."

You're too excited to wonder at what he meant by that and take out your phone, nodding eagerly. You're about to ask him what his number is when he shoves his unlocked phone into your hand and takes yours. Exchanging phones again, you look down at his contact page. Kyle with a blue heart next to it.

You're blushing furiously but look up at him and smile.

"Alrighty, Gaz. I gotta get goin', I got a couch and take-out calling my name. But I will text you."

"I hope you do, love. Otherwise, I'll be gutted."

Grabbing the box of wine, your heels click as you walk down to the register— and you can feel the burn of his gaze on your back. Someone somewhere was looking out for you because you just happened to be wearing the most flattering office skirt you own. Paying and grabbing the receipt, you leave the store with a pep in your step and a silly little smile on your face. You couldn't wait to see him again.

---

Finally at home in an oversized tee and sweatpants, you're lounging on your sofa. Fluffy socked feet up on your coffee table with a full wine glass in your one hand, you're changing the TV from Youtube to the Netflix you never use. Taking a sip as you scroll through the popular on Netflix list when you see a recognizable face.

You shoot up from the couch, spine ramrod straight as you squint your eyes at the screen.

No. Fucking. Way.

"Gaz?"

'Last letter from your lover' starring up-and-coming british star Kyle Garrick---- The letters after that blur together. No shot he's ACTUALLY from a movie!

Slamming your plastic wine glass down on the table, you scramble to your phone before sending 'Gaz' a text.

You: Hey.

Gaz: Hey, love. I didn't think you'd reach out so soon. Can't say I'm not glad though.

You: Yeah well, I just happened to come across something peculiar and I thought of you.

Gaz: Oh? I'm flattered I made such an impression.

You: Yeah! I just saw the preview to 'Last letter from your lover'. You wouldn't happen to be Kyle Garrick?

Gaz: Ah— right. Listen, my name IS Gaz. It's what friends and loved ones call me. You not recognizing me from the get-go was a breath of fresh air. I understand if this could be an issue for you.

You: It just took me by surprise. How about you make it up to me tomorrow evening? You've set high expectations for your choices in wine.

Gaz: Absolutely, love. I promise I won't disappoint. Tomorrow then, at 7.

You grab your sofa cushion and smush your face into it before screaming at the top of your lungs. Grabbing the box of wine, you store it in the fridge and get ready for bed. No hangover for you, after all—You've got a date!

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 15

chapter 26: (check tags for triggers)

1. james’ stab wound will heal, but of course he’s gonna have to use a cane for the rest of his life. my poor darling. but also! CHARACTERS WITH DISABILITIES THAT WONT BE ERASED!!! HELL YEAH!

2. this nurse is pissing me off. sirius is asking if james and reg are gonna be okay, and all she can talk about it appearances and scars. not if they’ll be okay

3. sirius and reg are reunited. thank god. this is what the world needs

4. “"I love you. You're my brother; of course I love you. Always have, always will, and nothing—absolutely nothing in this world could ever change that, do you hear me? You're enough for me, and I love you. Never, never fucking doubt that."” AHHHHHHHHHHHHH reg needed to hear that so bad, and james needed to say it so bad

5. 😧😟 reg is vomitting blood. yikes. wow. that’s yikes. it’s not even HIS BLOOD that he’s vomiting. and i wanna know who’s blood filled that river. i want to know who was killed to make blood for that river

6. “”It's fine. I didn't even like this shirt.” (Sirius really liked this shirt.)” 😭😭

7. 😊 siblings! sirius wipes reg’s face, and reg threatens to vomit on him again

8. reg questioning if he actually made it out. that breaks both mine and sirius’ heart. “"I—I thought it made sense, because why would I have scars if I was dead?””

9. reg breaking down and sobbing to his brother. wow. i- wow

10. gosh, remus and sirius are already like a married couple. i love them

11. regulus would just wake up and ask for james. that hurts. in no way was my experience any where near as bad, but i know it must suck to wake up, calling for someone, and them not to be there. when i woke up from wisdom tooth surgery, i called out for my mom many times, and the nurses jsut told me to be quiet, and i can’t see her. i was so distressed that i cried. my pain is not anywhere like james or reg’s but i know that it sucks.

12. sobbing. reg needs to shower, but doesn’t want to get in the water. he’s scared of the water. like wow

13. god, james wakes up and starts fighting people. he never should have had to go through that.

14. james is begging to see regulus, and regulus begged to NOT see james. idk how zar could have hurt me any more, but here we are

15. james and sirius have matching scars! that’s horrific! but! they’re matching!

16. sirius’ words before james went into the arena. we get to know them. and it’s both healing to know the memory, but also hurts like a motherfucking truck

17. sirius asking for remus to kiss him! consent!

18. shit. remus realized he loved sirius. like. loved him. wolfstar better be granted happiness in this universe

19. authors end note: “you think regulus is unhinged? sirius is so, so much worse 😳”

chapter 27:

1. god, regulus needs to take a shower. he must STINK. but also, i do not blame him for not wanting to

2. i appreciate remus’ honestly. he will not dance around the point with reg, and honestly, that’s what he needs

3. oh my god. is remus gonna get reg to take a bath? honestly, if anyone could do it, it would be remus. nobody else could do it

4. remus sharing the petty hallow drama 😭😭

5. james and sirius friendship is all i need in this life

6. oh wow. sirius is hurt that james never told him about his crush on regulus. not that james likes regulus. i love when fics do that instead of sirius being angry

7. i love that it’s no issue for james and sirius to share a bed. they need comfort. they share. that’s that.

8. sirius not letting james have a drink cause he knows it’s a slippery slope >>>>>>

9. ✨remus lupin✨

10. 😧 reg but sirius as a reflex from the arena. and immediately apologized. he’s never hit sirius before. and wow. that-

11. sirius is admitting something he never even told james. that he accidentally hit effie. and 😧😧😧

12. AWWWW REMUS CALLED JAMES SWEETHEART

13. honorable mention for all pandora did in this chapter. she is a lifesaver, she is a queen, she is a goddess, and she deserves so much

[factorydefaultlu]

hello! 🧡

i'm not sure if it's allowed, but can i request "Making Love" and/or "Aftercare/Pampering" for Zoro x Nami?

if providing specific context is allowed, i'd like it to be about how Nami has sexual trauma after Arlong, and it's the first time someone is gentle with her, so she is not used to it and is surprised by it, especially since she expected Zoro to be rough (Zoro realizes that she has trauma but she herself hasn't told him before).

I'll Look After You

Nami x Roronoa Zoro

Talk of past CSA, soft sex, p in v, tooth rotting fluff.

AN: Did I use the thoughts of my own trauma for this? Yes, yes I did. Not gonna lie this was good for me mentally.

Nami doesn't talk about her past much, Zoro has pieced things together from what he has said, but mostly from what he's observed.

The relationship started as just someone to kiss when they were drunk, Nami would always push him away before it could escalate. Zoro knows why, he sees how she avoids being touched like lover and how when he kisses her she hesitates for a moment.

It's not him, hell it's not even her. It's her past. It's Arlong.

Zoro can't even begin to imagine the horrific things that monster did to Nami, he can already see the trauma plain as day, what's under the skin must be even worse.

On a particularly bad night for Nami, she climbed up to the crows nest to see Zoro. He barely got a word out before she was kissing him.

Nami straddled his hips and escalated things quickly, he could taste her tears that ran down her cheeks as they kissed.

Zoro pulled her back and cupped her cheeks, she stared at him, almost afraid he'd tell her to get lost.

He wiped her tears and brought her back in for another kiss. Soft, tender, like an apology.

Sorry for what that prick did, sorry you have to live with the scars, sorry I can't take away your pain.

Nami is shocked by his sof touch. She expected him to hold her down and fuck her like an animal. She expected him to fuck her, no- Rape her, like Arlong.

But Zoro is not Arlong, far fucking from him. He's kinder, gentler, better. He's not a monster.

The way Zoro strips her of her clothes piece by piece, kissing every inch of skin revealed. Asking if he can remove each item.

He calls her beautiful, and perfect. He says her name like she's a prayer and not something to be possessed.

Nami wants to cry again, but not like with Arlong, and not like how she was crying when she climbed the ladder to the nest.

She wanted to cry because she felt loved.

Her hands found the front of his pants. Zoro was hard, but Nami didn't feel dirty when she undid his pants, or scared when she stroked his cock.

He gently pulled her close to his chest, wrapping his arms around her and pressing their bare chests together.

"Tell me if you want me to stop. Only do this if you want to."

If she wants to. It's her choice. Nami feels a sob in her throat.

God dammit, she loves this man.

He gently helps her sink down on his cock, sighing as she wraps around him. She whimpers when he bottoms out, her arms squeezing around her neck.

Nami feels so full, in such a wonderful way and Zoro slowly rocks her on his cock.

The two are up in the crows nest the whole night, and Zoro teaches Nami that sex isn't- shouldn't, be painful, or scary.

[lactating]

The wizard carries on in that way for some time, having been "so lost in the poetry zone. it was flowing out of me like a ballet". NG: so good luck - ; as a spell i cast to your pluck UP: Oh fuck yes, more spells for me? NG: "do whatever you want forever"; advice a true treasure UP: Okay, lest we get too giddy. You've started dreading the adventure ahead. You decide you ought to get it over with. UP: I bid you adieu; I've stuff to do. NG: til we meet again, friend ^_^ You, still smarting, stand and walk out to your railing and fix your vision far away. You look out over your hated Meat City. The unsightly skyline, filled with an lust of reverence to rebar and concrete. Each building full of working drones, sitting, standing, making small talk, eating a cold tuna sandwich by a buzzing florescent light. They raised the prices of tuna again. You've had to start eating half an ounce less each day. In the middle stands a vast and perpetually unfinished trunk of stone, praising you're-not-quite-sure which Ozymandias. It leaves you, at the end of your pondering, with one nagging question. Why? This is profoundly unscientific, even for contemporary equations. What actor or actant could possibly stand to benefit from this display? It towers, twice as high as every other crooked tooth. You fix your vision a bit closer. Not that the middle distance fares much better from the lust. The odd outlier, some hospital or over-eager office building breaks up the horrific monoculture of One-Fives. [4] These noble exercises of cost-optimization overpopulate these great and level valley floors. As much as you ideologically oppose the cogency and soundness of their construction, you admit that the top story of every single one is almost always lousy with blindspots, and railings that rattle whenever some busybody happens to walk nearby. You review your previously explored paths, making note of which ones have had their HEAT INDEX raised recently, and hypothesizing which ones will have their HEAT INDEX raised soon. Some of the paths stop, bortie'd to soon despite their promise. These paths have challenging PHYSICS-A! manipulations that have you stumped. Despite the robustness of biomechanics , some of them are simply too taxing on your physica; others too taxing on your robustness. You fix your vision a bit closer. You look down upon the street from your current One-FIve. Located eight thousand three hundred and seventy meters south and two thousand five hundred and four meters west from Ozymandias. Though you call it "Zero, Zero" internally. The street forms an unbroke, unmoving mass of cars, some parked, others allege to be in traffic from their occasional frenzy of honks. [6] Being without both car and phone, you prefer to travel by alternative means. You fix your vision a bit closer. You gaze upon your hands. You marvel a while at their callouses, miniature testaments to the fourier transform, lusty with their reverence to pain and repetition. Ah, the heart line, keeping watch over the bottom edge of your row of phalangial callousness. Ah, friction. Where would you be without it? At the bottom of each and every wall, unable to physica your way up it. You fix your vision a bit closer, and remember your efflorenscia has a 'scia called "Tome of S.K." Fuck, that's going to take a while to clear out of your queue. You break down the very first task, leaving your room, into its component steps.

#19: >

[endiecutieo6]

-Gorebruary 2023!-

Week 4 (final week)

The final one! Other than the sketches, that is.

Day 22/pills: blood, substance abuse, descriptions of overdosing

Day 23/“smile for the camera!”: blood, mild body horror, bruises, descriptions of torture

Day 24/Rotting: Depictions of decay, blood, maggots

Day 25/old habits: Lots of blood, severe bruising, depictions of self harm, substance abuse

Day 26/breaking point: Blood, eye strain,

Day 27/forgotten: Trippy imagery, eye strain, themes of suicide

Day 28/ the end: mild blood, not really any gore bc I was tired lol

“He knew he should’ve said no, should’ve continued saying no, should’ve pushed that glass away and got the fuck out of there. He shouldn’t have given in, shouldn’t have taken a sip, shouldn’t have had more than one glass. God, he was such a fucking idiot-

He doesn’t know how he’d gotten to his room, where he got the bottle of wine, or why the fuck he had swallowed so many of those fucking “Happy” pills.

He had tried to move, but ended up falling to the floor, the world spinning around him and a horrific dread coming over him. He tried to speak, but his mouth just wouldn’t work, and he feared that if he forced himself, he’d throw up and choke on his own vomit.

Happy pills, fuckin “Happy” pills. Stupid things never worked, just made him tired and hollow. Why had he even brought the damn things to the manor? He had no intention of taking them, and they’d just been collecting dust for the past- past- really long fucking time!

Why did he take them? Why? Why was his memory so fuzzy? People did stupid shit while they were drunk, but guzzling a bottle of pills? Did he have a death wish? Did he- do this deliberately? Maybe- long time coming, really… he should’ve done this sooner…

Nothing hurt anymore. In fact, he felt fuzzy. He could hardly breathe, but that didn’t really bother him. He was warm and cozy, as if he’d tucked himself into bed. Everything was going black around him, but that was okay. He was tired anyway.

He wanted to sleep… he was so tired…

Guess those were pretty happy pills after all…”

PN: very mixed on this one. I don’t think it came out the way I intended it to. It’s pretty bland in comparison to the rest.

“A broken finger, two ripped-off nails, a half ripped off nail, a torn open ear, a possibly permanently fucked eye, and a lost tooth. He’d count the rope burns on his wrists, but that was rather minor in comparison to everything else.

He should’ve been more panicked, should’ve been begging for his life and spilling any kind of secrets he had, but those fucks must’ve punched the sense out of him, because he wasn’t saying a fucking word.

They were getting frustrated, and it dawned on him that he was probably going to die, or get sold off to somewhere. Maybe they’d tear him open alive? Maybe they’d chop off his fingers and force him to swallow them? Maybe they’d do something even worse, something so unspeakable. It wasn’t out of the question- In fact, it was pretty likely.

But, once the camera was shoved in his face, he still forced himself to grin. He could see their eyes narrow, and, as he was being dragged somewhere unknown by the hair, he found himself proud.”

PN: I have long forgotten what story this would’ve been for, if there even was one, just I do like how the image came out. I really do.

“Hungry.

He was so hungry.

He needed to find food.

He walked around, but he couldn’t find any food. Just fog and trees, not food.

He was hungry, he needed food.

He walked around again, ignoring the pain in his head. It hurt a lot, but he was too hungry to care.

Suddenly, he stepped on something soft.

Food?

He looked down.

No, just a… doll?

Why was a doll here? It didn’t look all that dirty. How did it get here? It didn’t belong here, somebody had to have put it here.

Maybe it smelled of them?

As he picked it up, he looked at his hand. How long had he been missing a finger? What happened to his thumb? How long had he been like this?

The doll felt soft in his hand, but it looked strange; stains where its eyes should be, and a mouth gaping open like it was screaming. Was it in pain? No, it was a doll, it couldn’t be in pain. It wasn’t alive.

Alive.

He looked down at his thumb, bone coated in dried blood.

Alive…

Something squelched, and the little white blur wiggled before vanishing. Something was crawling around in his eye socket. A maggot was in his eye, in his skin, and he… hadn’t noticed until now.

Suddenly, he felt like he was going to vomit, and he went to raise his other hand up to his lips, but nothing happened. He looked down at his other hand, but saw nothing below the elbow. It was a stump, a bloody stump. Based on the way blood had crustied to his skin, it had been that way for a while, and he hadn’t noticed until now.

In a sudden panic, he tried to press a finger to his lips. He specifically used the one that was still intact, that hadn’t rotted or looked like it was about to fall to pieces. But, when he tried, his finger only pressed against hard bone. He tried feeling around, desperation rising by the second, but it was all just bone. His lower face was just bone, and he hadn’t noticed until now.

He suddenly looked up, and he wanted to scream. This wasn’t normal, this couldn’t be normal. None of these obvious injuries had been noticeable until now. He should be in pain, writhing on the ground in agony. He should be throwing up, begging to god to make this all end. He couldn’t understand, he just couldn’t understand.

None of this made any sense! If none of these hurt, why did his head hurt?!

In the reflection of the doll's eyes, he saw the red, gooey mass on his head that was still pulsing, writhing in a way that wasn’t natural. It- it was his brain.

All of the sudden, everything clicked.

Everything went quiet, deadly quiet. Not even the sound of the branches brushing against each other as the breeze pushed through them. No birds, no animals, not even the sound of him breathing.

He was dead, but he also wasn’t. His body was decomposing, yet something was keeping his brain alive. He was a walking corpse.

A monster.

He didn’t know how it was still possible, or if he was just hallucinating it, but he could see a tear rolling down his cheek. And the doll just watched.”

PN: the story is better than the image. I do like how it came out, even with its small issues. It’s one of my favorites, especially the hair.

“To say I have any understanding of what’s going on would be the biggest lie I’ve ever told.

Ever since the incident with the “happy pills”, I’ve been acting reckless. I’ve found myself goading hunters into severe violence, provoking them until they snapped and hit me harder. I’ve been acting reckless towards myself; I haven’t been eating, I’ve been smoking more than 2 packs of cigarettes a day and I’ve been drinking again.

But, the absolute worst thing is that I can’t bring myself to care. I don’t care. I’m watching myself slowly wither away, practically putting a sign on my back that says “kill me”, and I couldn’t give less of a shit.

I think the term is suicidal ideation, but it might just be some old habits coming back. Either way, I don’t really care.”

PN: this one originally didn’t have a story but I made one last second because I didn’t like not putting my all into something. I think it made the image better! Another one of my favorite.

“I can hardly think.

For the past month, I’ve been having such horrific nightmares. I can’t even count how many times I’ve woken up screaming, phantom pains all over my body. Sometimes, I swear I can still feel them; barbed wire digging into my neck, pins in my arms, carvings in my back, and so much more. But, when I run to the mirror, desperately stripping my clothing to see my apparent wounds, nothing is there.

I’ve lost sleep, lost my appetite, lost my ability to think clearly, and I’m terrified that I’ve finally lost my mind.

I’ve had nightmares before, nightmares that I thought were the worst things I’ve ever experienced, but they pale in comparison. These are different; too real, too vivid, too consistent. Some even connect to each other, like a story, and I’m the main character.

I thought that only my sleep was going to be affected, that my nights would be full of terror, but at least my days would be spared.

Oh, how wrong I was.

I know I’m a very paranoid man, that my reality isn’t fully accurate to the truth, but I know something is watching me. Everywhere I go, I can feel eyes watching me. I hear clicking sounds, taps on the floor and scraps against the wood. I tried to comfort myself by saying it was just rats, but the scratches on my walls say otherwise. Whatever it is, it must be causing this. It wants to see me suffer, to see me miserable, and I wonder if I’ve seen them in my dreams. But, I can only remember flickering shadows, clawed hands and impossibly pale skin.

I haven’t told anyone what’s been happening to me, and I have no intention to do so. I know all too well that I’ll either be pumped full of so many medications it’ll melt my brain, or I’ll be locked up for the rest of my miserable life. I have to deal with this on my own.

I’m getting desperate. As I write this, I can hear it tapping again. It’s scraping the walls, clawing and giggling. Oh dear Christ, it’s giggling. I think I’m about to throw up, but I can’t seem to make a sound.

Whatever you are, I know you are reading this. Somehow, you can and I know you are, and I’m begging you to make this all end. I’m at my wits end, my breaking point, and I’m about to lose my mind. Make it all end, please, just make it stop. I promise I’ll do anything as long as you get out”

PN: The story is the only good part about this image. I was tired and was starting to reach my limit, which is why it’s so bad in comparison to the rest. Genuinely not my finest work.

“Whoever may read this letter.

As you may already know: my name is Freddy Riley.

I have nothing left but my deepest regrets.

I was certain I could make things right.

Even now, I can see the colors of her voice, I swear.”

PN: GHOST AND PALS REFERENCE! Yeah, the story is based off the beginning portion of Black & White, and the image itself is one of my favorites. I LOVE how it turned out. It’s so wonderful and actually did fairly well on Instagram. I really like this image.

PN: no story for this one! I think I had something planned but was tired and burnt out, so I just did that. The other character is the mascot for that years Gorebruary! I don’t have a name for her but I love her so much.

I’ll post the sketches at some point in October!

[itneverendshere]

I’m a Brazilian girl that lives in the us for college and it’s fucking 3:34 am and I simply don’t know what do to I’m in despair I called my mom and balled my eyes out because I’m scared for my fucking life. Not only mine but for every woman, lgbtq+, people of color, immigrants because we’re fucked, simply fucked. Every single person and I repeat E V E R Y single person that is not a rich old man is completely fucked. And I feel heartbroken and devastated but at the same time I feel the most pure rage because people are allowing this regression to happen, they allowed to go back 100 years of progress for what? FOR WHAT? Right I just need to say something for the people who voted for this obliterated sociopathic of man:

If you’re a woman that voted for this monster, just know that if you get raped, you will be forced to deliver the product of it. If you are pregnant and your life is at risk because of it, you will die because you won’t be able to get an abortion. If you have pregnant and the fetus has a condition that it will not survive you will have to go through the pregnancy knowing very well that your baby won’t survive. If you have a miscarriage you not only will have to report it to Trump’s Federal Government and might be prosecuted for it, even if you have to control of it. If you are pregnant and suffer from a accident you will be refused medical care for the simple fact that the medication that would need to take to survive will affect your pregnancy and guess what if you don’t die but miscarry you might be prosecuted for it.

If you’re a legal, illegal, has families that are immigrants, friends with one know that he plans on putting y’all in fucking detention camps, separate families, mass deportation. And if that happens to anyone you care about, I hope that you live with the guilt that this is YOUR FUCKING FAULT.

If you’re a lgbtq+ that voted for him, your protection, right to live the way you are will be repealed from you. If you’re a trans person in the military you will be banned from it just for the simple fact that you’re transgender. Know that after today your life will be at risk and that if something happens to you, you will not be able to fight it

If you are a POC that voted for Trump just know that with the police immunity, now more than ever horrific scenes like George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and many others, will not only happen more frequently but the difference is that now no matter how much you protest, you scream for help and justice YOU WONT GET NOWHERE BECAUSE YOU FUCKING VOTED FOR SOMEONE THAT WILL PROTECT THE CRIMINALS SCUMS TO GET AWAY WITH IT.

I’m sorry for the rant but I needed to get this off my chest. I also have so much to say but I can’t not even process right now and put in enough words what I’m feeling rn

I feel every single word of what you’re saying.

this isn’t just political, it’s a matter of humanity and basic rights. to think these decisions could rip away the autonomy, safety, and dignity that so many people fought tooth and nail to secure over generations is devastating💔

i completely understand what you’re describing, that feeling of pure, righteous rage. it’s really scary to think about being stripped of agency, especially as a woman, especially as an immigrant, especially in a country where people are supposed to be free and protected???

to watch this regression happen because of one man, one agenda, and those who enable it, it’s devastating. the thought that basic human rights are on the line for anyone who isn't in that tiny, privileged demographic.....absolutely insanity.

people who look away or deny it are in for a harsh wake-up call if this continues. it’s especially painful because there's innocent people who don’t want to just sit around and wait for that to happen. again, what you're feeling is so valid. it’s not okay, and no one should have to scared for simply existing.

if you ever need anything we're all here to let you guys vent, it's not much but i hope it helps a little <3

[r1999-transcript]

A Nightmare At Green Lake 04 - Cheap Syrup

Blonney: “AHHHHH!!!”

Anne: What was that?! Did someone scream?! My God, Jason, we have to check it out! I know they like to fool around, but we are here now …

Anne lowers her voice and looks into the depths of the shadow. She remembers the terrible story about the woods.

Jason: Michael, stay here and take a rest. Shh, don’t make any noise.

Michael: Uggh … uggh, alright. They will all be fine hah?

Jason: Hope so.

…

Anne: Blonney! Blonney! Stop playing hude and seek! This is not funny!

Jason: Wait, look over there.

A waist-height bush shakes suspiciously. It’s lush enough for an adult to hide behind.

Anne: Blonney? No, Freddie? Are you there? Not funny at all! Not cool! You two always like to spook people like this. I will not believe …

Butcher: Huh … hah …!

Jason: Anne, stay back!

Anne: Aaaaah!

The sharp blade cuts through the bushes, and their noses instantly catch the grassy smell. They stumble backward and fall to the ground.

Jason: What the hell was that! Fuck! Those stories are all true, all true! How’s that possible? It is not in compliance with the law of nature!

The smell of blood hits them. Anne looks up and sees her friends, who are lying behind the bushes and looking lifeless.

Anne: Oh, no! No no no! This is not happening! Oh, Lord!

Jason: No more crying Anne! Stand up, run! I will look out for you, run!

Anne: They … both of them are dead! My God! Jason … the blood is all over the place.

Jason helps his trembling friend get back on her feet. His legs are shaking as well, but they have to keep on running, as they dare not look back.

Jason: Don’t think too much. Don’t look back. Run, speed up!

Anne: Jason, head down!

Jason: Uggh…

Butcher: Hah…

Anne: No! Don’t … Heavens! Jason!

The blood of her dear friend fiercely spews out of his body like a can of shaken soda was finally opened. The body without a head falls backwards. The air is fishy. Anne keeps retreating, one step after another.

…

Giant Critter: *roar*

Horropedia: Damn it! It’s catching up!

Sonetto: It’s moving too fast. I’ve never seen a critter this big! Not only the size, its strength and speed are also much enhanced from what we learned in the arcane creatures class! It took Ms. Tooth Fairy’s velvet pocket. We have to bring it down before it’s too late!

Vertin: Horropedia, do you have some cobweb bullets to trap it?

Horropedia: Only one left. Are you sure we have to fight it in the woods? We don’t have an edge. The campsite was completely destroyed within 15 seconds. I don’t suggest that we kill ourselves in this way.

Vertin: According to the map, there is the other campsite built in a wider region. We can fight it there! Turn left here, keep going for a hundred meters, and then cross the bush!

Giant Critter: Hiss!

Horropedia: Wow!

Vertin: Shoot that bullet! It’s going to get you!

Horropedia: What a pity! I was thinking of catching something else!

Giant Critter: *roar*

Sonetto: Excellent! It’s trapped!

Vertin: The bush is right over there. Follow me. Let’s speed up!

…

Michael: Coo, uggh … Hah …

Michael suffered an agonising death. He lied between bushes, moaning in pain as he lost more and more blood.

Anne: No, no, no …

As for Anne, she is like a tape player which only plays repeated screams. She monotonously repeats her denial of the situation, and circles the camp rounds after rounds. But the butcher’s blade always lands on the ground one inch behind her heel, not even touching one bit of her body.

Butcher: Heh…

Anne: Don’t, don’t get closer! No, don’t! Wait, you people are …

The figure jumping out of the bushes is coming straight at her. Anne closes her eyes in desperation.

Sonetto: Aaaahhh! My apologies, I didn’t mean to intrude … My God! What, what has happened here?!

Before coming out to the other side of the bush, none of them has ever expected such a horrific scene.

Horropedia: A crazy murderer? Student campers? Oh, this is much more interesting than I expected.

Vertin: Protect the victims. Get ready to fight!

Anne: Who are you?! And the bushes? Why did you come out of the bushes?

Sonetto: Worry not, Miss. Please get behind. You’re safe with us.

Anne: No no, that’s my friend! And they aren’t …

Sonetto: I understand. They deserve a decent funeral, after I take care of this demoniac creature.

Sonetto grasps her wand, keeping her friend behind.

Sonetto: May the peace be with us.

Tooth Fairy: Sonetto, calm down.

Michael: No! Don’t bury me … I don’t … wanna die …

…

Sonetto: What …

Michael: Hmm … *puff* hah! Ahem ahem … this taste of cherry syrup is killing me!

Sonetto: You … You’re still alive?

Michael: Ah? Of course, what kind of question is that!

Sonetto: But you were vomiting blood, and that gentleman over there doesn’t even have a head attached to his body.

Tooth Fairy: That’s a prop. It looks like a real one, nicely done. You add bloody-taste substitute into the cherry syrup which makes it smell like the real blood. Be prudent about the dosage because it’s slightly addictive … *smells* You’ve used too much.

Sonetto: What on earth is happening?

Tooth Fairy: This is a … theatre. Or, it is a filming site. These young people are busy with their business, while we just interrupted them.

Anne: I’m Anne. Are you two the actors Jennifer recruited?

Tooth Fairy: I’m afraid I don’t know this Jennifer you are referring to.

Anne: Ah. My bad. She sometimes goes by the name Blonney. It was just me who always call her Jennifer.

Blonney: Fuck it! Damn it! You idiots! Get your ass up. There’s no way we can use this take!

The “bodies” covered in blood get back on their feet one after another. A girl with blonde hair and blood stains on her face rushes angrily over.

Anne: Here she comes! Sorry, excuse me.

She quickly wags her hands horizontally in front of her chest, turning around and trotting towards her friend like a fluttering little bird.

Blonney: You! Who are you?

Vertin: Vertin.

Blonney: No, no! That’s not what I’m asking!

Horropedia: Ha? Are you asking me? I am Horropedia.

Horropedia’s eyes light up, looking at each one of the people standing before him.

Horropedia: And you are … the big one, the athlete; the smaller one, the fool; and the slim one, the scholar. The only girl who’s standing here. It seems like the first girl who lay down, I’m talking about you, a … ahem, alright, a blondie.

Blonney: What the hell? What is in your shrinked brain?! I’m asking who the hell you are, why you are here, and what do you break into my film site for?!

Vertin: Film?

Anne: Yes, we were in the middle of shooting a movie, a horror movie. Jennifer is our dire … director? And playwright … is that the word?

Horropedia: Horror movie? Here?

He blinks. His face is suddenly lit by an unusual glow.

Horropedia: Where is your gear? What’s the story?

Blonney: What’s your business here?

Horropedia: What? Or, aren’t you confident enough?

Blonney: The gear is right here! And the script too! Take a good look at it, smartass!

Horropedia: … Recorder CCD-TR57? The latest version, a pretty one. It costs quite a lot and has many features. Optic camouflaged outer shell, long stand-by time for operating independently, and hand gesture triggered flashlights and lighting adjustments … Wow! It’s the first time to see a real one other than those advertisements printed on magazines. Wjat a coincidence. How do you use the flash?

Blonney: Hey! Wait! Take your hands off me!

She was not quick enough to avoid Horropedia, who pinches the edge of her sleeve and drags her arms moving up and down.

Horropedia: With a snap? A wave? Or adjusting your glasses? Or an applause?

Blonney: Let go of me!

Horropedia: Ahahahaha, it’s the applause! Now it’s easier!

Blonney: Unbelievable! What the hell do you think you are doing?! Piss off!

Giant Critter: *roar*

Horropedia: … 5’31”, the sticky bullet should have been four times more powerful than this, but still within my estimation. Hey! Blondie, clap your hands!

Blonney: God! Damn it! For freak’s sake! Look what you brought here!

The blonde girl shakily claps her hands.

Giant Critter: Hiss …!

The autofocus Recorder ascends, generating a strong light as Blonney claps her hands. The gigantic critter roars in pain, aimlessly waving its claws in the air with tremendous force. The Recorder is hit, and exploded into pieces.

Blonney: My camera!

Vertin: Good. Now it’s time!

[oukido]

Think he forgot a gift? Absolutely not. He's been working on it for ages, actually. Actual years. He'd even involved half a dozen people trying to search for her. It's been a long fucking time, and this is absolutely not the majority of the gift. It just so happened that... she showed up at this time. And he didn't want to wait.

'Two gifts. One will be bittersweet. One will be for you, okay?'

He carefully hands him the small wooden crate, stuffed with Mareep wool. He'd had the urn made from Mt. Silver's silver. So now? His mom could come home.

'Sorry it took so long.'

But Green's not going to be mad about that.

He collects his composure and also pushes the second gift for him. It's a basket with a new, real leather bomber jacket, and new belts he'd made himself. There were warm socks, in case he ever wanted to join him again to walk the mountain.

And he'd included a rare gem that took just as much effort to find. One of those ancient photo booth machines had been on the SS Anne when they were kids. The damn thing was still there, and the Captain hadn't erased the memory.

So he printed the one photo they took, and framed it. Them as kids, smiling. Red's missing a tooth, and has a bruise on his cheek. Green is grinning and saying something dastardly.

He'd gotten two pictures framed. Their wedding photo, them impulsively eloping but grinning was the second.

They don't have a lot of pictures from the past, so it matters.

'Good?'

It's a lot more than he was expecting, but Red always went all-out, especially for him.

The past is still something his mind lingers on. There are things almost impossible to move on from, and then treasured memories he'll keep tucked away in his heart forever. There had been a lot of pain, and confusion, and anger, but also a lot of love. A lot of people who had been patient and kind to him. He doesn't remember a lot of their names, or faces, but he remembers the kindness just as much as he remembers the sadness.

Green runs his thumb over the top of the urn. Her name is engraved in the silver in kanji. He didn't think he'd ever get to bring her home. Dad's still kept in Daisy's house, at her small shrine. Sometimes, if he's in town, he prays. Now he and mom can be together again.

There are tiny, pesky tears forming in his eyes and he roughly wipes them away with his sleeve. A deep breath is taken.

The jacket is pulled on next, adjusted over his shoulders and arms, and he runs his hands over the material. It's real. The quality is top notch. It's damn comfortable, too, and while Green doesn't have a mirror on him he's sure he looks good in it.

And the photo — this one was a vivid memory. Both of them at twelve-years-old stuffing themselves into one of those tiny photo booths on the Anne. He can't remember what he had said, but he does remember it made Red laugh right after the photo was taken. Green had been taller than Red then and it shows here. They battled after.

... Then Green had impulsively kissed him and dashed away. A secret they'll both keep.

Being a kid was confusing. They would fight and Green would yell and they would get mean, but then sometimes they'd meet on the road and camp out together, and Red would share some of his food, and their Pokémon would play, and they'd pass out latched onto each other ( Green was always horrifically embarrassed when he woke up ).

Those tears again. And then more when he sees the wedding photo. Green sniffs.

"Ugh..." Green places the photo down delicately. "You always gotta show me up, huh?"

He wipes his eyes again. Since when was he so damn sentimental?

A moment of silence. Green leans his forehead against Red's shoulder before he speaks again. His voice is uncharacteristically quiet.

"... Thanks."

It means the world to him. He doesn't have to say that. Red will know.

Love you.

[ralfmaximus]

Yes! This! An important point.

It's been mentioned here (many times) that other EVs brick themselves and yes indeed, virtually all of them have had teething pains.

But here's the thing: other automakers honor their warranties.

For many reasons.

Firstly, because (unlike Tesla) other automakers use the franchise model of sales, wherein dealers purchase the right to sell a company's vehicles in an exclusively protected region. You won't see, for example, two Ford dealerships next door to each other. This is because regions are jealously guarded and franchisees will sue the living shit out of their franchisers for breach of contract.

Yes. I know. It is extremely weird thinking of automobile dealerships as the good guys. But in this case? It works.

Because, unlike Tesla, where every Tesla dealership is owned by Tesla, and run 100% by Tesla employees, those evil bastards will fight tooth & nail to protect their franchise. It's a profit motive.

So when your Chevy self-immolates or bricks itself or the paint falls off under warranty YOU CAN REST FUCKING ASSURED that the dealer you bought it from will fix it as fast as humanly possible because:

it doesn't cost them a dime (Chevy reimburses)

they actually profit off warranty repairs (Chevy pays their labor)

they have the chance to upsell you on other stuff

they want to cement themselves as Your Best Friend Forever™ so you will give them repeat business

Another reason is that US car makers learned some valuable lessons (had their asses kicked) during the 1960s/70s at a time when workmanship was in the toilet.

GM, for example, was famous for their 1970s cars rusting through their paint on the dealership lots.

Ford made some supremely dangerous vehicles in the 1960s and got called out on it (re: Ford Falcon).

Chevy's Corvair was the topic of Ralph Nader's book Unsafe At Any Speed, an explosive 1965 exposé of grift in the auto industry. Nader's book & subsequent congressional hearings were instrumental in making cars safer. We have Nader to thank for airbags, crumple zones, and 5-mph bumpers.

Then in 1975 the Magnuson-Moss Warranty Act got passed (otherwise known as the Lemon Law) that demanded product warranties MUST be honored, with horrific penalties if they weren't.

All of these factors combined to make US car companies liable for their fuckups, and to at least try and address customer grievances sincerely. It was a come-to-Jesus moment that has lasted ever since.

And because all auto makers work on that same level playing field, and birddog each other neurotically for violations, and have robust mechanisms in place to honor warranties... we've had relative peace in the automotive sector.

Yeah, sure, occasionally somebody gets burned. But usually the [evil, capitalist] system kicks in to correct the issue.

But not Tesla.

Tesla has been discovered to be actively hiding their transgressions. Making shit. Blaming the customer. Lying about warranty coverages.

And powerful people have finally noticed.

All of this, obviously, is from a very US-centric perspective. I cannot wait to see how the EU tunes Tesla up for their many transgressions.

Yee fucking haw.

A Tesla driver has brought his wife's Model 3 in for servicing because the power steering ceased operating after the car went over a normal speed bump. The service manager (note that Tesla, unlike other car manufacturers, owns and operates all of its dealerships, so the workers there are Tesla employees) identifies the culprit: A system component has become corroded—probably, he says, because the car went through a car wash. The repairs will cost $4,400. The driver observes, reasonably, that he has never heard of a car's wiring being damaged by simply taking it through a car wash.

Reuters did a huge receipts-padded article on the grifting operation that is Tesla, that they have been knowingly selling shoddy, defective, dangerous cars. Then, when those shitty cars break within the first few hundred miles, Tesla blames the owner for "abuse" and won't honor the warranty.

[pancakes-talks]

I can't believe I'm still getting likes/reblogs on my old Nico posts. Like I'm shocked people are still finding them since it's been so long. I'm shocked that anyone saw them when I first posted them I thought the pjo fandom was dead. And like it makes me happy that other people like the same character I do and they like the stuff I made. But it also makes me sad. Cause I just haven't had the energy to be as crazy into the series as I used to be. I'm trying to rekindle that fire but it's hard sitting myself down to read and making stuff inspired by what I read. I want to enjoy things again. I want to be insane about something. So invested, so enthralled, I end up spending hours writing stupid stories and drawing goofy shit to make myself giggle.

I want to sit down and take in everything. Feeling completely engrossed in a story watching it unravel. How it's carefully sewn plots together. Just experiencing how more alive characters feel the further you get into the story. I want to furiously type out my developing theory's of where the story is going and tying those threads together as they're revealed. Just going completely feral when I'm proven right or wrong. Caring deeply for the characters ambitions and rooting for them.

Feeling your heart drop to your stomach as you see the ledge they're about to leap off of before they do. knowing there's nothing you can do to stop it from happening. Watching them fall. Watching them struggle to get back up on their feet and forging on anyway.

Cheering for them as they finally make their way back home safe. But having that bittersweet feeling wash over you as you realize there's no adventure left for you to follow.

Like, Goddamn! I don't want to watch a 20 minute YouTube video giving me a chopped up synopsis of a book for 1/4th of it and then give me a surface level analysis they pulled from Wikipedia nearly word for word for the last quarter. That's like licking the condensation off the outside of a soda bottle. I want the whole deal. I don't want to have to settle for less because I'm exhausted and in pain from work. It's kinda bullshit I can hardly enjoy my hobbies, which consist of mostly sitting down! That's crazy. Don't get me started on AI bullshit. Like no bud I don't want a computer to steal images and then muddle them together to make "art". The process of creating something is the whole point of CREATING SOMETHING. Typing words and instantly getting a garbled emotionless picture is not going to give me the same joy as drawing a horrific Freddy Fazbear as an old timey Chuck e cheese animatronic inspired by meat canon but in my own glossy style. Spending hours detailing his shiny rubbery skin and jagged tooth that's somehow rotting even though it should be plastic right??? Setting his eyes and eyelids further back into his gapping sockets to make them seem more uncanny. And having them look sideways at you even though he's placed forward on the stage. And then posting it in every discord I'm in. Forcing my friends to look at him as he gazes back at them. And then all reacting with "..oh my god? oh mY GOD! OH MY GOD" followed by "YOU MADE THAT? THATS FUCKING AWESOME" like no dude typing words on a keyboard will never make me feel as close to godhood as creating funny little cursed drawings does.

[astarab1aze]

💙 for kaede and ming.

who curses more?

they both curse horrifically, both of them. hello- their mha verse is the biggest indicator of that omg

who is more patient?

neither of them are patient, lbr. BI they are both enormous pains in the ass when it comes to anything. anything! but they love each other so they put up with it, grumpily, and by saying fuck

who does the driving?

kaede likes to walk everywhere or take the train, so i'm going to say, if they have a car, ming. otherwise, they just go places together on foot, or maybe sometimes they have a driver - perks of marrying rich unu

who is louder? who is quieter?

yet again-- boffum, boss. they're both just so - complicated. noisy and loud, but also broody and do not talk to me ever about things

who is more physically affectionate?

i should say, ming, i think. kaede's so particular, but he does have his moments when he's needy and wants attention. he's just so damn cat-like, and ming comes at him from the other end in her birby ways. they both are and aren't, y'know? one more so than the other and vice versa depending on when and in which verse. i like to think they're equal :)

who is more likely to tease the other?

ming is for sure more playful than kaede in general, so i really feel like she is more likely to tease him. he's so serious sometimes, he can be a bit of a buzzkill r.i.p. so someone's gotta do something! it can either piss him off or endear her to him, there's really no in between with him. his mischief is so rare... ToT loser, no fun allowed ass

who is better with time management?

i think they're probably about the same tbh. very capable of mishandling their time, but also capable of scheduling, setting time aside, getting the most out of their day...etc. i think they can both be very pressed, too, urgent in everything they do for a bit 100% even silly stuff

who wins the arm wrestling matches?

kaede plays dirty and gives zero shits about it, and ming absolutely meats him with that same energy, so if ever they throw down on an arm wrestle, i imagine it being fucking wild. sore ass losers the both of them, too omg

who controls the music in the car ride?

ming, probably. kaede doesn't care a whole lot even though music is big for him when he has the time to play or really listen. again also: do they even have a car?

who covers dinner when they order in?

i guarantee it's kaede. it's always kaede, or at least most of the time because he's rich and wants to provide, husbandly man shit u kno. it's not about power or anything, he's just. let me take care of you

who is more outgoing? who is more shy?

i don't think either of them are shy so much as they are highly specific and complicated about certain things. both deeply emotional beings, and expressive too. private, but not shy. arrogant, ballsy, assertive at times-- they ain't shy, they're just awkward!

who has the more outlandish fashion sense?

neither of them omg

who starts the tickle fights? who ends them?

i think ming would start them, and kaede would end them, and vice versa but only occasionally. i see ming doing this moreso than kaede, since she's more playful than he is as a general rule, but i don't see him not doing it so

who has the darker/more “edgy” sense of humor?

i'm going to say kaede, but also ming, but then kaede, but ming--

who is more competitive when it comes to games?

are you kidding me? omg. they're both ferally competitive

who has the bigger appetite? the bigger sweet tooth?

i'm going to say kaede since he eats all day, but ming has the sweeter tooth - until it comes down to boba

who is more likely to get in a confrontation in public?

this needs no explanation, both of them omg

who hosts the parties/hangouts? who organizes them?

they live together omg. they're married. they just talk it out and make plans as a unit skjdhfsf

who is better at cooking? do they ever cook for each other?

i think ming likes to cook more than kaede, who can but isn't particularly interested in it beyond necessity. aside from going out to eat at restaurants and the like, i'm pretty ming does most of the cooking at a like, 53-47% rate between the too skjdfh

who is more likely to engage in dangerous and/or illegal behavior?

they both get up to no fucking good oh my god. verse to verse, one or both of them are getting themselves into absolute bullshit nonsense. it's like they can't help themselves, so yes. boffum, 50/50

who is more likely to notice when something is wrong with the other?

i think it really depends on the situation. as i said, they're both highly emotional creatures so it's not like it's not obvious when something's wrong. they would both notice, and try to react and care for the other as best they could, but they would also butt heads at times so it really just depends on context

who does the talking in public settings (i.e. to the waiter at a restaurant)?

they are their own people and treat each other as such (mostly; kaede's very very protective of ming in his current iteration so there are some obvious differences between verses)

who is more likely to extend a helping hand & provide emotional support?

once again i say it depends on context, not that they aren't there for each other. they're just sometimes idiots

who is the bigger prankster? do they get the last laugh or do they suffer for it?

ming! but her pranking invokes his competitive spirit, and so they end up fucking with each other forever. sometimes they each suffer, and sometimes they each have a good laugh together or separately

[gravestonesundertheocean]

I'm struggling really fucking bad with eating lately >_<

Tldr: medical anxiety and past tooth pain have triggered eating disorder behavior even though my teeth shouldn't hurt anymore, and I'm probably healthy. I just have very serious brain worms and I'm tired of being hungry and struggling to keep myself afloat.

It's a miriade of things- I have pretty horrible health anxiety and im losing my insurance by the fall (shout out turning 26 and living in late stage capitalism 🙃) so I'm pretty fucking stressed out, but slowly getting all my medical visits taken care of. Unfortunately, this includes dental work, and I have a phobia of the dentist and more, I had really bad dental work done a little under a year ago, and I've had to get all of those teeth re-done which has been horrible for my mental health- but ALSO since it hurt to chew on one of my teeth and all the pain I was in when the first dentist fucked up my teeth has made me anxious to chew!!! And those teeth should be all good now, I just had a visit on Friday- so I'm fucking praying to whatever forces that can do something about it that I'll start feeling less afraid of chewing because this is triggering pretty horrific eating disordered behavior

First it was not eating because I am stressed and anxious and afraid of hurting- but it's developed back into heavy eating disordered behaviors. I'm just not eating. My friends brought pizza over last night and I barely got any (everyone also got seconds and thirds before I had even had a single slice :/ so by the time I went back for a second slice of pizza it was all gone)

I literally ate 5 pieces of snacking pepperoni out of the bag this morning and called it breakfast- that's not good.

[bunnakit]

I'm just venting about life idk

Ugh this week has been something. Started the fitness routine and I'm still very out of shape so I can't do as much as I'd like immediately

Dieting is fine, eating healthy food never bothered me.

Dropped a desk on my foot and my toe looks like it's broken (it's fine, it barely hurts)

Have horrific tooth pain randomly throughout the day and it kinda feels sinus related but I JUST got over a sinus infection - it doesn't hurt if I lay on the opposite side of if I exercise and get my blood moving elsewhere idk it's weird

I fucking hate dentists so I'm not going unless I absolutely can't take it

Feeling really tired today but it could just be the week of diet and exercise catching up to me. I changed everything about my activity and eating habits on a dime.

But hey - I lost 10 lbs in just a week. 1/10th of my goal is already done and that's fucking SICK AS HELL. I'm so proud of myself.

Also making more friends in the KP server I think? Idk, I'm at least being friendlier. It's hard after I've been abandoned by a lot of people I considered friends, but I'm trying.