#I went to buy my anti depressant

[zooophagous]

So why do you hate the advertising industry?

Hokay so.

Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.

I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.

I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.

Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.

Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.

Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.

I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.

And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.

Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.

Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.

And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.

Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.

It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.

It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.

And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.

Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.

Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.

However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.

I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.

Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.

[hier--soir]

take your medicine

pre-outbreak joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: *tv sales advert voice* so you've been finding it hard to reach orgasm? lucky for you, our best-selling item "hunky boyfriend joel" is on sale at half price. shipping is free, and he is very determined to help you achieve your goals! call the number on your screen to buy now! OR your medication makes it difficult to orgasm so joel (and your vibrator) help make it happen. warnings/tags: set in the early 2000s aka early thirties joel my lover boyyyy, boyfriend joel, depression [nothing dark or sad], anti-depressants, brief discussion of food/eating, cigarette smoking [f], soft!supportive!joel, mentions of masturbation [f], unprotected piv sex, use of a sex toy, ride 'em cowgirl (1939) dir. samuel diege, cream pie, dirty talk, joel talks you through it. word count: 2.9k masterlist a/n: so this one is.... self-indulgent. shout out to all my friends on anti-depressants that are strugglin' to reach orgasm. me too, pals, me too. and there will be no medication shaming on this account, no there will not! so happy sunday, i hope someone else out there enjoys this short little thing with me x follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing

Medication is a journey, they say. Every day will be different.

Medication is not the end all be all, they say. We can always try different avenues.

Six months on, now.

Six months since Let’s try the Zoloft for a few months.

Six months since We can reassess in April.

It’s June and summer has settled over Austin with a hot wet vengeance. April came and went with a mutual agreement that you weren’t ready to be weaned off yet. A gentle hand on your forearm and a softly spoken Why don’t we check in again in July?

A low dose. A starter dose. A you shouldn’t experience too many side-effects dose.  

And she was right – for the most part. There were no headaches, no nausea, no dizzy spells, no changes in appetite. That shallow, low mood that’d been haunting you for months suddenly began to lift. Begrudging exercise in the afternoons, a three-meals-a-day regiment implemented by your boyfriend, and a happy little pill with every morning coffee.

But fuck – you can count the number of orgasms you’ve had since January on one hand.

Countless nights spent alone in your bed, tangled betwixt sweaty sheets, fingers and forearm cramping until you finally give up. Drink a cold glass of water, wet your face, and go to bed frustrated; a routine disappointment.

You’d gotten lucky a few times, of course. Vibrator on the highest setting possible, pussy all puffed up and numb from the rough speed. Frustrated tears in your eyes, lightheaded by the time you finally feel that sweet sweet relief coursing through your veins.

A few times with Joel, too, in those first few months. And ignorance was bliss—quite literally—until he caught onto what you’d been doing.

“What was different tonight?” he’d asked you on one of those nights, laid out beside each other in his bed. Chests heaving, satisfied smiles spread across your faces.

Your hand had paused against his head, fingers twisted up in his sweaty curls, and you hesitated. So quick, the briefest pause before trying to play it off, but he caught it. Always too perceptive, too watchful of an eye; especially since you’d been diagnosed.

“What’s wrong?” Joel frowned.

“I… didn’t… my…” you’d mumbled, face tucked against his pillow.

“Can’t hear you when you do that,” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Baby?”

“I didn’t take my meds today,” you repeated, voice still low, still wary. But you could tell he heard you. Knew from the way his body stiffened beside you. From how when you looked over his smile had dropped, eyebrows pinching inward. 

For a moment he didn’t even say anything. He hardly breathed. And then—Darlin’, why would you do that?—so painfully soft, the faintest tinge of worry in that deep, rasping voice of his. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, and something hot began to burn behind your eyes. Wet, pinching shame. “Just… I woke up and I wanted you. And I wanted it to feel like it used to for us, and I can never… you know I can’t finish when I’m on them, and I hate feeling like I’m disappointing you—”

“Baby,” Joel shook his head, strong hand cupping your jaw. His forehead knocked against yours; a tender but firm kind of insistence. The type that says look me in the fucking eyes and listen up. “You’re not disappointin’ me.”

“Joel,” you sighed, face hot, foreheads tacky where they pressed together.

“No,” he grunted. “I fuckin’ mean it. This stuff takes time, okay? We’ll figure it out the way we always do. Just… don’t do that again. Please.”

“I won’t,” you murmured feebly, nose smushed against his.  

“Promise me,” Joel had urged you. “Promise me you’ll take your medicine.” 

“I promise, Joel.”

You kept strong on that promise. Didn’t get frustrated when he’d stay over more nights than usual, or drag you back to his place in the evenings – all just to watch you pop that little white pill in the mornings.  

It brought out something new in him, the day you’d showed him the prescription. Like some instinctual protectiveness was unlocked and he just kicked into hyperdrive.

Cutting work early to drive you to your doctor’s office, cooking up different meals every night for dinner.

Most days you wake up alone in his bed; wipe the sleep out of your eyes as you wander downstairs. Let him nudge you into a chair at the table, beside Sarah, so he can set identical bowls of cereal in front of the two of you—his girls. Hell, if you had a dollar for every time that man has said Breakfast is the most important meal of the day in the past six months, you’d have more money than you could spend.

Joel didn’t even get mad when you started smoking again in May.

Didn’t bat an eye when he found you at two in the morning, sat on the back porch in one of his sweatshirts with the smell of tobacco staining your fingers.

“Been a long time since I seen once of those in your mouth,” he’d smirked, settling onto the stoop beside you.

“I’m sorry,” you grimaced, remembering how proud he’d been when you quit. He rested his head against your shoulder, eyes watering with a yawn.

“S’late,” he grumbled sleepily. “N’you smell now.”

“I’m sorry,” you’d repeated, stamping the cigarette into the concrete. “Today was just… hard. Couldn’t sleep.”  

“S’okay,” Joel told you. “Just don’t like it when you sneak out on me, yeah? You know I ain’t judgin’ you.”

The only thing that frustrates Joel, is that he comes, and you don’t.

And it’s not a frustration with you. No, it’s a hot faced guilt that spreads through him every time you fuck. Evident in those frantic touches, desperate pleas of your name, of tell me what to do, tell me how to help, of fuck I’m sorry.

Because you still want him, despite it all. Still can’t help your wandering hands, your fingers that tease back his bed sheets and then his boxers and coax orgasm after orgasm out of him, night after night.

Tonight, you thought, would be no different.

Covers strewn across the end of your bed, pillows askew, you sit astride his lap.

It’s hot; the AC in your apartment has been broken all week, and your thighs are tacky with sweat where they press against his skin. Everything wet – sweat in your hair, slick between your thighs, the soft squelching sound that raises with every press of his cock inside of you.

“Fuck,” Joel pants, hands tight against your waist. “I can’t—goddammit, I’m not gonna last, baby.” 

“It’s okay,” you moan, eyelids heavy as you rock your hips over his.

It’s late, and you both have work early in the morning, but the burn is so good like this. The heavy weight of him reaching so far, pushing the limits of what your body can take. For years it’s been your favourite way to fuck him; poised above his body, admiring the way his stomach tightens and his eyes roll when you sink down on his cock.

“What can I do?” his voice is strained, the veins in his neck bulging as he holds his breath – anything to stave off the impending high.

You only whimper pathetically, grinding your hips into his. Can feel everything in your stomach knotting up into a white-hot ball.

“Hey,” Joel urges, hand landing in a soft slap against your outer thigh. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know,” you cry out, shaking your head. “It’s right there, but I…”

“But what?” he murmurs, hips snapping up again.

“I don’t think I can,” you finally admit, eyebrows drawn tight in frustration. Your lower lip is bitten raw at this point, incessantly gnawed at by your own teeth. His grip tightens on your hips and he drags you upward until his length slips out, falling against his stomach with a wet smack.

“C’mon, tell me what you need,” he says quickly, and you’re sure that the desperation you see in his eyes is mirrored in your own. Pupils blown round and fat, endless black—pleading.

You stare down at him for a moment. Watch the way his chest heaves with harsh, stilted breathes. How little dots of sweat have gathered at the hollow of his throat. And fuck, you want it so bad.

“Top drawer,” you exhale roughly, pointing to the side table.

Joel doesn’t question the order. Doesn’t say a word as he spreads a long arm across the bed, yanking the drawer open and shoving his hand inside. You watch him rifle around for a moment, pulse increasing as you wait for him to find what you want. What you need. And you can tell when he does; his shoulders stiffen and he lets out a choked sort of sound, pulling out the black wand and shoving it into your hand.

“Show me,” he says, eyes wild.

Your finger drops down against the button, turning your hand to show him which one to press.

“There’s four settings,” you murmur, slipping it back into his palm.

“Does this normally help?” he asks, grunting softly as you grip his cock, notching the tip back at your entrance.

“Sometimes,” you sigh, sinking down, sucking in the heavy weight of him. “Can still take a—a little while.”

He presses the button tentatively, watching as the rounded head of the wand starts to vibrate. Spread open around him, he can see your swollen little clit so easily, and he lowers the wand to press against it. Your body jolts forward, mouth splitting open with a groan as heat flares through you. Your hips stutter against him instinctively, chasing that intense feeling, and he looses a gravelly moan at the feeling of your wasted cunt squeezing around him.

“Look at that,” Joel grunts, dark eyes trained on your face. That wicked pink tongue slips out to wet his lips and he nods in encouragement. “I know, baby, I know it’s a lot, you feel good?” 

“Yes,” you gasp, jaw going slack as you settle into the feeling. “Fuck, yes, it’s good, it’s good.”

It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before; nothing your past boyfriends had ever been comfortable enough to try. It has the muscles in your thighs tensing up already; the thick press of his cock paired with that unrelenting, almost overbearing, vibration.

“Can feel it,” he hisses out, head tilting back into the mattress.

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he nods, expression grim. The muscle in his jaw twitches. “So fuckin’ tight like this. All wound up, y’need it so bad, I know.”

You moan, eyelids fluttering as he presses the button again, notching it to a higher speed. You lift up slowly and then press back down over him, and the two of you groan in unison. His free hand falls against the curve of your ass and he squeezes, encouraging you to rock against him, starting up a steady pace.

One of your hands settles on your chest, fingers twisting and pulling at your nipples. You need more, always more, something, anything.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” Joel mutters, and you can tell how fucked out he is already as he watches you. Dark eyes glazing over, mouth hanging open deliriously. “My pretty girl, so damn good for me.”  

Your heart stumbles in your chest and you whimper, appreciation for him flooding your senses. He’s been so close for so long tonight already, teetering precariously on that edge but holding off for you. Fucking you into the mattress before pulling out and tucking his face between your thighs, doing his damnedest to get you to that same place. Urging you to get on top, to take what you needed, to use him to get yourself off.  

“I love you,” you mumble breathlessly, eyes pinching closed as something sharp starts to tingle at the bottom of your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck,” Joel snarls, hips snapping upward.  

“What ar—” your words cut off with choked moan as he clicks the button again, and then again, taking it to the highest speed. Your shoulders shake and you tilt forward a little, hand gripping his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Joel,” you cry out, chest heaving and stomach tightening.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist, searching for something to ground yourself against. That firm press against your clit doesn’t falter for a second, and you let out a rough moan.  

“Good,” he grunts. “Good girl, give it to me.”

The muscle in his bicep spasms and strains beneath the skin, everything pulled taut as he keeps the wand pressed firmly against you. And it’s almost painful, the way you can feel your high coiling inside you, burning, but never quite reaching fever pitch the way you need it to. 

A symphony that builds and billows and writhes within you. Sloping swells of violins and cellos and trumpets. Up, up, up to that shattering crescendo you just can’t seem to reach.

“Joel,” you mewl, and there’s tears in your eyes, on your cheeks. Hot, fat tears that stain your face now, dripping from your chin to splatter against his chest.

“C’mon now,” he grunts, hips shifting up off the bed, meeting you thrust for thrust. The stretch of his cock is so wide, so deep, and every shift of his body punches the air from your lungs.

“I don’t know if I can,” you shake your head, stomach on fire. The vibrations are so intense, the speed so fast, you can feel your clit going numb beneath it. But Joel doesn’t pull away, doesn’t stop the fast pace of his hips. The muscles in his abdomen twitch under you, tan skin glistening with sweat.

“You’re so close,” he goads, jaw tight. “Don’t fight it, baby.”

“Stop moving,” you beg then, your voice a high keen. Joel stills instantly, wary eyes darting across your face. He doesn’t pull the vibrator away though. Not yet.

“Fuck,” you cry out, hand firm against his stomach. “Just let me-just—”

Knees on fire against the bed, you grind your hips down into his. Gasp as his cock presses hot and heavy against something deep inside of you that sets your entire body shaking, vibrating against him; buzzing at the same high-speed rhythm as the wand between your legs. You rut against him again and again and then something pulls tight and hot at the base of your spine.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, eyes widening. “Oh god, Joel, I think—”

“Shh, I know, I know,” he moans. A bead of sweat rolls from his hairline to his chin. “You’re okay, let it happen.”

“Touch me,” you say, breathless and needy and so so desperate. “Fuck, please.”

Joel groans – a deep, guttural thing. A sound that comes from somewhere in the base of his stomach. It rattles your bones and has your fingernails digging into his stomach, and then his hand is on your chest. Rough fingers squeezing and stroking and pinching and you’re gasping, keening his name as he whispers frenzied words of encouragement and it’s building it’s building it’s building and and and—

Everything goes silent when you come. It’s all blurred vision and deafened ears; an intense ache in your jaw from the way your mouth hangs open. You can feel a vein in your neck, raging beneath the skin; a staccato rushing sound that echoes inside your head.

And you think you can hear Joel’s voice, somewhere beyond it all; Fuck, there it is, good girl, good fuckin’ girl.

When your eyes flutter open, you can only see Joel’s face swimming in your vision. His eyes rolling back, lips parted as he snarls your name.

“Fuck,” he spits. “—yeah, that’s it, there we fuckin’ go.”

You feel his cock kick inside of you; fast jerking spasms and then a warm rush as he starts to come. Your hand wraps around his, pushing the wand to the side of the bed, but he doesn’t fucking stop. He grips your waist and fucks up into you, spitting curses and warbled slurs of your name as he pumps you full of his hot spend.

It’s obscene – a mix of your come and his, squeezing out around his girth and smearing against the inside of your thighs. It pools around the base of his cock and you whimper at the sight, swollen cunt still tightening around him. Only when you start to sag down against his chest does he rest, his thighs twitching and tensing with the aftershocks of his high.  

Joel raises a hand, calloused thumb brushing the tears from your cheeks. Then, carefully, he grips the back of your neck, guiding you down to rest against his chest.

Your shoulders slump and you press a lazy kiss against the jut of his collarbone. And for a moment there’s just this. No sounds but that of heavy breaths and a soft buzzing, forgotten somewhere in the sheets. The swipe of his fingertips down your spine, your lips against his salty skin. A gentle tap against your waist and he’s slipping out of you with a sigh, but not letting you pull away, not letting you move from where you’ve collapsed directly on top of him.

“Missed that,” you slur sleepily, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“Me too,” he mumbles. “Did so good. Made me proud.”

“S’that right?” you smile against his skin.

“S’right, baby.”

You hum, dragging your head up to press a kiss against his mouth. Both of you so exhausted that it’s just a brief, lazy swipe of your lips, but it’s enough. It’s thank you.

“Shower?” he suggests softly, smiling up at you.  

“Or… cigarette?” you respond, eyebrows raised, teasing.  

“Watch it,” he smarts, laying a quick smack against your ass before nudging you off of him. He stands and holds out a hand to help you off the bed, tutting underneath his breath. “Although I guess you’ve earned it.”

a/n: in hindsight, idk why the fuck i wrote that it took them six months to try this but what can you do lmao.

thank you for reading! x

[to-thelakes]

tear in my heart (1)

pairing; frank castle x fem!reader

series summary; when you start on anti-depressants, you didn’t expect to be forced on a roadtrip with the punisher but life never really went how you wanted it to.

series warnings; slow-burn, discussion of depression and reader being on medication, angst, fluff, strangers to reluctant friends to friends to lovers, reader sleeps a lot, reader is emotionally all over the place, frank is his usual self

warnings for this part; description of a fight, reader is a little hungover, mentions of a night-out/drinking alcohol, strong language, men being creepy (not matt or frank)

masterlist

If you were completely honest with yourself, you don’t know why you had come into work. You were exhausted. You had only started the anti-depressants two days ago and you were exhausted. Also, you had a tiny hangover. You weren’t really supposed to drink on your meds but you never really listened to what anyone else said. You were regretting it now that you had a pounding headache and were stuck on shift until closing.

Going out had meant to be just some fun. You weren’t gonna drink but then these attractive men came up to you and they were buying you drinks and you didn’t know how to say no. The night had gone downhill from there but thankfully your roommate had helped you into bed when you returned back to your shared apartment.

It should have been a night that you regretted but didn’t have to think about again. Or at least that’s what you had hoped but as you walked through the bookstore, you heard the bell ding.

The bookshop you worked in was only a few blocks from your apartment. You had worked there long enough to know all the regulars and they knew you. It paid well considering and the owner loved you. He loved to tease you about anything and everything and his smile was one that brought you so much comfort. It reminded you of your dad’s smile even when your dad was halfway across the country, out of reach.

Despite all this, when you glanced up from where you were stocking books on the shelf, you saw a newcomer - not a regular - as he meandered down one of the aisles, blurry images of the previous night started to come back to you. 

He hadn’t immediately spotted you but he would any minute and you knew his face. It was one of the men that you had been drinking with last night and you felt your heart thumping in your chest. It had to be a coincidence that they were here. You tried not to think too much as you continued stocking up the YA section.

The man had been the one that had initially approached you the previous night. He had been charming and suave. He had made you feel special and so even when you were hesitant at the start, you settled into his presence quite comfortably. And when he had asked for you to join him at the table with his friends, you found it hard to say no.  He had been so kind. It was rare to find someone so openly charming and endearing without being overly sexual but he was and you had joined it.

Which as it turned out, was a bad idea. It turned out - according to Matt - that in your drunken state, you had managed to find yourself wedged between criminals. Criminals that were part of a drug ring that Matt had been trying to take down for months. Of course, Matt had only told you this once he had demanded that you get away from them and made an embarrassment of you.

But this man being at the bookstore had to be a coincidence. It didn’t make sense for him to be looking for you but that anxious thought lingered in your mind as you crushed the cardboard box you had just emptied. Your feet carried you towards the door into the back until there was a hand on your upper arm. Whoever it was, forced you to turn around and you came face-to-face with the man from the bar.

“Hi, is there anything I can help you with?” You asked, putting on your customer service voice and smile as you tried to pull yourself away from his grip. But it was strong, bruising and you could feel his blunt nails digging into your skin through your uniform.

“I just wanted to ask you a few questions,” The man responded, a charming smile spreading across his face. But now you could see right through it. In your drunken state, he had seemed so kind but now his charm was more predatory. It was a leer and you shoved your arm out of his grip, stepping away from him.

“Of course, just give me a minute. I need to dispose of this box in the back,” You retorted. The man narrowed his eyes and he opened his mouth but you had rushed into the back before he had a chance to deny you the opportunity. You slammed the door behind you, heart thumping in your chest and your boss appeared. Those usual kind blue eyes looked back at you and his bushy brown eyebrows pulled down, concern etched across his soft features.

“Another bad date coming to find you?” Your boss asked, a teasing smile on his face. You shook your head, heart thundering in your chest.

“No, I need to-” You cut yourself off not sure how to even begin and explain yourself. So, instead, you just said, “Can I call someone?” Your boss nodded and he watched as you rushed over to your bag, pulling your mobile from your pocket. In seconds, you shoved it up to your ear, calling Matt. You just prayed that he answered.

Your boss watched you for a moment before he decided to give you privacy and he went back to sorting through the new stock that had been delivered earlier that morning. Your eyes stayed closed as you waited for Matt to answer, foot nervously tapping and hand pressed against your head.

“Hey, aren’t you at work?” Matt’s voice filled your ears and the anxiety that was ready to boil over subsided a little. Matt would keep you safe.

“The guy from the bar. He’s here. He said he wanted to ask me some questions. I don’t know what to do. I think they’re going to-” You were panicking and rambling and Matt could recognise that tone anywhere which is why he promptly cut you off.

“Hey, calm down. Are you at work?” He asked, his voice was stern but calm. The fact that he wasn’t freaking out calmed you down and you let out a hum of ‘yeah’. You heard movement on the other end of the phone before Matt sighed, “Is there a way you could get out of the store without him seeing you?” You glanced over at your boss who was still sorting the new stock.

“I can’t leave, I’m on till closing and Lacey’s on shift but she’s still new,” You mumbled. Matt scoffed on the other end and you glanced at your boss who was now cocking an eyebrow at your words. You waved your hand dismissively, forcing a smile onto your lips before you turned your back to him. Making your boss worry was the last thing that you needed right now. He was already too kind to you and this was just something else you didn’t need.

“Listen, if he’s at the store, it’s not a social call. You need to get out before you get hurt,” Matt retorted, “I’ll send Karen to cover for you if that’s the problem.” Matt sounded frustrated and you glanced back at your boss before you sighed. You didn’t even know what to think. It had barely been two hours on shift and you didn’t want to disappoint your boss but Matt was right.

“I’ll work something out. I’ll text you when I’m home,” You decided. Matt let out a sigh of relief and you both said your goodbyes. As soon as you hung up your phone and put it back in your bag, your boss was looking at you expectedly. It was obvious to him that something was wrong and he wasn’t going to let you get away with not telling him. It had always be like that with him. He wanted to know his employees were okay.

“Are you just going to stare at me or are you going to tell me what that was about?” He asked as he gestured vaguely towards your bag. You sighed and ran your hands across your face before letting your shoulders drop.

“Something happened,” You began, not entirely sure how to word it. You didn’t want to worry him but you knew that you needed to give him something so that he would let you get the hell out of the store, “I saw someone at the bar last night and I pissed them off. I was drunk and now they’ve found me here and they’re really not happy with me and they’re not good people,” You were trying to be subtle but the way your boss’ face dropped told you that he understood, “I can’t deal with it. I’m tired and I need to talk to the police about the incident anyway. It’s just-” You were rambling again and you were glad when your boss cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t give me these excuses, just go,” He retorted, a wry smile on his lips, “Lacey can cover for you. It’ll give her a chance to prove herself.” Your boss winked and you chuckled softly at the man before you nodded your head. You grabbed your bag and pulled it over your shoulder, taking a deep breath. You walked up to him and hugged him. He chuckled and hugged you back, “Go get some sleep, okay?” He requested. You nodded and pulled back.

“I’m gonna head out the back, thank you, so much. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it!” You were smiling ear-to-ear and your boss simply waved his hand dismissively. You then rushed out of the backdoor and into the alleyway. You checked left and right before you rushed back to your apartment. The walk wasn’t far, a few blocks, and you were able to keep mostly to alleyways that were lit by the midday sun. You were safe from that man. 

And thankfully, you were soon back in the comfort of your apartment. The whole place was still clean. After you had woken up, you cleared everything up before you headed out to work. Your roommate left before you more times than not and so you always wanted to leave the apartment clean for when she got home off shift. 

The cleanliness meant that you didn’t have to worry about anything. Instead, you locked your front door and put your keys and bag on the side before you went over to your bedroom.

The adrenaline from the brief encounter was starting to dip now you were in the safety of your apartment and the exhaustion caused by your medication seeped right back in again. You grabbed your phone and texted Matt that you were home safe before you got into bed. You only managed to get your uniform off and replaced with a hoodie before you were snuggled up asleep in bed. You really were exhausted.

Hours later, you woke up to the sound of knocking against your fire escape. Your eyes blinked open, squinting across the room and quickly realizing that it had gotten dark. You had no idea how long you’d been asleep but you guessed it must have been at least eight hours since the sun had set. 

You heard knocking against your window again before you let out a disgruntled noise. A soft huff escaped your lips as you reluctantly slipped off the bed and pattered over to the fire escape. You grabbed some shorts on the way over, realizing that you were only in a hoodie and underwear. Matt couldn’t see you but you wanted to at least look somewhat presentable.

Matt’s frame was blocking out the moonlight but you could see that he was in his Daredevil suit. His shoulders were pulled taut but he seemed to relax slightly when he heard you moving around. You grabbed onto the edge of the window and shoved it up with all of your strength, a grunt escaping your lips from the effort.

“Hi,” You mumbled. Your voice was a little scratchy and it was obvious that you had just woken up as you stepped back, pulling the shorts on as you went. You rubbed the crusties from the corners of your eyes as he stepped through into your bedroom and you crossed back over to your bed. You didn’t feel any less tired. The antidepressants were really doing a number on you and you wanted to be awake and alert but there was a cloud of tiredness hanging above your head.

“Hey, was everything okay at work?” Matt asked as he pushed the window down to stop the cold night air blowing through. You nodded your head in response, pulling the covers around yourself as you curled up against the headboard. You really wanted to go back to sleep but you knew that you had to deal with this conversation first.

“Boss gave me the time off,” You muttered. Matt nodded his head and his head suddenly twitched to the side. His face pulled down into a frown but he refocused on you when he realized you had begun speaking, “He loves me too much for his own good and it’s really annoying that he had to come in. I needed that money but no, that just isn’t important, isn’t it?” You muttered bitterly. Matt’s eyebrows furrowed at your ranting and you looked up at him, “What do they even think I know? Why would they want to speak to me?” Matt shrugged his shoulders in response. He didn’t entirely know either but it was his mission for the night to figure it out.

He hadn’t had a chance to listen to their operations between the previous night and now. Otherwise, he would have warned you sooner and he would have told you to stay at home; he would have done a lot more. You sighed and rubbed your eyes with the heel of your hands again.

“I’m so tired,” You muttered. Matt frowned as he looked back in your direction. You couldn’t see where he was really looking because of the red lenses of his helmet but you assumed he was looking at you.

“The new meds?” He asked. You nodded in response. He could tell that they were having an effect, physiological. It was weird but something seemed different about how your body functioned. He had noticed it over the past few days but he felt weird commenting on it, “How long have you slept?” You shrugged.

“A few minutes after I text you until when you knocked,” You retorted. Matt nodded and suddenly his head twitched the side but before he could say anything, your bedroom door opened. Your roommate was standing in the doorway and she stared at you in the gloom of the room before her gaze moved to Matt who hadn’t made it out of sight before he had already been spotted.

Quinn - your roommate - just stared at Matt for a moment. Her jaw had dropped slightly, frozen in place as she took in the sight of The Daredevil in her apartment, in her roommate’s room. Quinn had no idea what to say. Her eyes narrowed before she looked at you. Your face had dropped, unsure what the hell to say to this scenario. You could probably make something up but right now, in your sleepy haze, you had absolutely nothing that you could come up with.

“I always knew you were into some weird shit,” Quinn stated before she shook her head disbelievingly and glanced behind her towards the front door of the apartment, “There’s some guy here for you?” Your eyebrows furrowed and you glanced at Matt but he spoke before you had a chance.

“Tell him to leave,” His voice sounded different. He had made it deeper, trying to be more intimidating. You glanced between him and your roommate and she simply nodded her head and walked off to the front door, too confused and tired to even question why Daredevil was in her roommate’s room. You shot up from the bed and closed your bedroom door but before you could say anything to Matt, his face fell. 

Panic suddenly spread across his face and he pulled the bedroom door back open. You both came face-to-face with one of the men from the previous night. The man’s face twisted in annoyance at the sight of Daredevil and you stepped back into the bedroom. You didn’t know what to do and Matt took the lead, throwing the first punch.

You had seen Matt fight more than once but you had never been this close to it. You took another step back as Matt managed to land another punch. But the man was getting his fair share of hits and the two moved into the main room of your apartment. 

Your gaze flicked off of them to your roommate - Quinn. Her head was bleeding and she looked dazed as she lifted her head up. Her eyelids were hanging heavy and you glanced from her to Matt.

He was fine. You knew he’d be fine so you made a break for it across the room but before you could get to Quinn, the man grabbed your arm. He threw you into the wall by your bedroom door and your head smacked harshly against it, paint chipping off the wall. You cried out in pain, cradling your head as Matt grabbed onto the man and the pair crashed through the dining room table.

From across the room, Quinn whimpered as she watched Matt and the man in horror. The table crumbled beneath the two heavy bodies and you flicked your gaze away from the table to Quinn. You had to protect her even if your head was throbbing in pain. She hadn’t signed up for any of this and it was your fault. It was your fault this was happening. So, while the man seemed to be occupied exchanging punches, you made a break across the room again.

But, the universe really wasn’t on your side, because as you stood up. The man had kicked Matt off and turned his sight on you, grabbing you. He yanked your hair back and you cried out as you lost your balance, falling on your ass. The man didn’t get another opportunity to hurt you though because Matt had wrapped his arm around the man’s throat, cutting off his airway.

You glanced back at Matt before crawling to Quinn. The woman was clearly dazed. Her gaze not quite focusing as you cupped her face, kneeling in front of her.

“Are you okay? Hey, Quinn? Look at me,” You mumbled out quickly. Quinn’s gaze slowly moved away from Matt - who had successfully forced the man to pass out - to you. You smiled softly, reaching out to check her face for wounds. There was just a cut across her forehead.

“What- Who- What just happened?” Quinn asked softly. Matt walked over, lingering over the top of the pair of you.

“You both need to get out of here,” Matt said before you got a chance to answer any of Quinn’s questions. His voice had dropped an octave again, doing his best to disguise his identity. You looked up at him, face crumpled.

“I don’t know where to go,” You stuttered out. He gave you a look and you quickly realized what that meant which quashed any fears that you had of suddenly being homeless.

“I can go to my sister’s,” Quinn said suddenly. You looked down at her, a frown spread across your face, “They’re not after me, right?” You shook your head.

“They’re after me. You’ll be safe, you just can’t be here,” you explained. Quinn sighed and she seemed to have come back to earth, no longer dazed by the fight that they had just witnessed. A hand ran through her hair and she nodded.

“I’ll grab a bag and head out. What are we gonna do about him?” Quinn asked, gesturing towards the man that was knocked out on the floor. Matt glanced at you and then at Quinn before he went back to the man.

“He’ll sort himself out,” Matt said. You nodded and then the three of you got into gear. You probably had a few minutes before the man came back to life and so, you packed a bag and Matt led the both of you out. Quinn was looking at the two of you strangely, as if she knew that it wasn't a coincidence that you happened to know Daredevil. It was like she knew something or wanted to ask something but she wasn’t saying a word.

When she got into a taxi, you both said bye and hugged each other before she disappeared. You then looked at Matt who had a frown on his face. He didn’t seem happy with anything that had happened tonight but he couldn’t really do anything about it. You were in danger and he had to try and do something to help you.

“Go to my place. I’ll be back later,” Matt said, not saying anything more than that. You stared at him, sighing before you nodded. He then disappeared up onto a rooftop while you headed down the block to his apartment. It wasn’t the first time you had gone to his apartment, you had been there more than once. He was one of your best friends but it still felt strange to be there without him or Foggy. The apartment building was eerily silent and when you unlocked the door with the spare key, the whole place felt unsafe.

But you knew that you were safe. You were at Matt’s place, you were safe. So, you locked the door and headed over to the sofa. You dropped your bag and took out the pill box, placing it on the coffee table. Your vitamins were in there, your tablets were in there. It was fine. You had been paranoid about forgetting them but you had them and you were safe.

You were just fine.

And so you curled up on the sofa and waited for Matt to come back.

-

Frank Castle was a fairly patient man but sitting on the roof waiting for Red was the last thing he wanted to be doing with his Saturday night. The two of them had places to be and shit to do. Yet, he was pissing about and leaving Frank in the freezing cold. To say that he was annoyed would be an understatement. He was ready to pummel Matt by the time that the masked man appeared on the rooftop. He looked roughed up already and that made Frank’s jaw tick.

“What time do ya call this, huh?” Frank snapped as he glanced over at the man. Matt scoffed as he walked over to Frank, perching beside him.

“I had something to deal with,” Matt stated bluntly. Frank scoffed and glanced around the city.

“We had a deal. I help you with this and I don’t pummel you. You’re making that real hard, Red,” Frank retorted as he glanced at Matt. Matt turned to look at him, clearly unimpressed by Frank’s frustration. Though, he hadn’t been in the freezing cold for the past hour alone.

“Why didn’t you just leave?” Matt asked. Frank looked at him like he’d just asked the dumbest question.

“I finish the business, I start. Now, where are these assholes?” Frank asked, not wanting to talk to him anymore than absolutely necessary. The next morning he planned on getting the hell out of town so he needed this done, tonight. And if he got his way, it would be.

<3

next chapter

[kittycatboyhalo]

Okay so vampire AU!

The world had a war that resulted in vampires being subjected to a lot of shitty stuff. They have the basic negative stereotypes and the one place that vampires actually rule is a lawless wasteland where all humans die. Most places kill or do not allow vampires to reside there, but Quesadilla Island does, albeit for shady reasons. 

Vampires are allowed to live in Quesadilla Island relatively peacefully, however they must stay at one of three group homes. I imagine BBH, Philza, and Foolish each running one. BBH runs one in the far north where it’s cold and rainy most the year, Foolish in the south of the archipelago where it’s warm and daywalking is more common, and Philza somewhere in the middle, maybe he’s the only one who owns a group home in the city. 

Foolish, BBH, and Philza are all 2nd generation vampires which means they were sired by the “original vampires”. No original vampire still survives which makes the few remaining 2nd generation ones the strongest around making them ideal to run group homes. BBH, Foolish, and Philza are all reasonable and kindhearted in their own ways, which make them ideal to run group homes. Their power also makes them ideal to have under control. 

I haven’t quite divided up who would live under which group home but I think vaguely it would follow purgatory grouping, though I imagine tina with foolish and bagi with bbh so maybe not. Tubbo is a human who got forced to live at BBH’s home for reasons I haven’t fully fleshed out. Bad and the vampires are surprised. Tubbo is scared at first but they all adapt.

That’s basically the bones of my AU. It’s so far completely been in my head so the details are jumbled.

Some plot lines I’ve had are that BBH and Foolish were sired by the same vampire so they were both under his control at the same time. This led to them somewhat trauma bonding. Philza is somewhat of a mentor to bbh and foolish being older than them by a few hundred years. BBh is older than foolish by about 50 and holds it over his head all the time. 

BBH takes in a lot of children who got turned and abandoned, Dapper being one of them. Cellbit was sired by BBH and went on to later sire his husband Roier himself. They both used to stay in Philza’s coven but were forcibly removed and sent to bbh and foolish separately after an incident. They’re both depressed. 

Tina and Bagi are also separated, but they didn’t do anything so there’s conspiracy that the federation wont tolerate vampire couples or something. 

Pac is a newly turned vampire. He lives in a anti vampire city with Mike who is his sole source of food. Pac begins to hunt after Mike gets more and more anemic. Fit is a handsome vampire hunter that visits the 24/7 diner that pac works the night shift at. Fit was in an awful accident where he and his family ended up in the vampire lands. Fit was the sole survivor and really buys into anti vampire propaganda. One night he gets a call reporting a vampire and finds the cute waiter that’s been working the night shift at his favorite diner. He freezes and lets Pac escape. This leads to him questioning all of his beliefs and when he finds Ramon, a child vampire a week later that he can’t kill, he knows there’s only one person he can turn to for help.

[threeofeight]

Turns out my nephew has been stealing from me, found out today. But three! Didn't he just take pokemon cards. Why yes, yes he did.

Here is the thing. I'm poor as fuck. Whenever I buy pokemon cards it's usually as a result of saving up little bits where I can, then I treat myself when I'm able for that anti depression serotonin boost.

I sort through them all, arrange them alphabetically in their own colour group.

Any duplicates get sorted the same way and go Trainer box.

Any special cards, worth something or not, like V, EX etc all get their own little top loader for fun and their own little special sleeve (usually Trainer box ones) and they get sorted alphabetically) and stuck in tins.

I have 3 tins of them currently.

So imagine my surprise when I went to sort out some cards I've been putting off thag the tins were all half full.

2 are full to the top and one 3/4 full.

I should note here, I've bought a couple of his off him in the past whilst I always ALWAYS give him and spare duplicates I have of mine for free.

Turns out he's been sneaking into my room when he visits or stays the night etc and swiping them.

Some are only worth a couple of quid.... others are worth more. Such as the Girantina EX I had. That was going for about £200 without any grade on ebay when I last checked.

Now I got some back. Others he traded.... (and did a shit job. Turns out he traded a £25 card for a £3 one) and others he straight up gave away.

Lmao the perceptive ones of you might notice I said had with my girantina above. Guess what category that one was in. If you said gave away.... ding ding ding. Going to go over to his friends tomorrow to talk to the parents and see if I cant get it back and hope it's still in good condition 😩

First panic attack I've had in years lmao. Fucking wonderful.

Brilliant.

Fucking awesome.

[neoyi]

My friend and I were discussing Crash Bandicoot lore when it hit me like lightning that Cortex is not just a doctor, but a doctor who (given his name) likely has a field in neurology. The conclusion we've come to is that this motherfucker is a medical doctor.

Which is a horrifying prospect given the nature of this man.

Eventually we got into a discussion on whether Cortex worked in a medical center. Which we also concluded he did just because the imagery of Cortex working in a hospital in his younger years would be fucking hilarious.

Imagine his fellow colleagues whispering about this strange dude. Just picture their conversation and rumors. Like did you hear he's been the one taking Chris' (clearly labeled) lunch almost everyday? What the fuck??? But I heard this dude is a goddamn billionaire? Why doesn't he buy his own lunch??? Noooo, dude, I heard him arguing with the head of medicine and like Dr. Cooper can't fire him because apparently he owns this hospital????? WHAT?! Seriously, I think he owns this whole ass land? Dude, that fucking creepy ass castle up that hill? I think he lives in it! Wtf why is he working in a random ass hospital??? Shit helen I literally went to his office one day to discuss a patients upcoming brain surgery and found like blueprints for a machine??? Like it had the words "evolve" and "mutants" written on it. What the fuck is he doing? What the fuck?

My god, this dude could legally prescribe you anti-depressants.

[eyelinerda3euro]

if i think about my childhood past Christmas I realise this thing: my family would get all political and debating because in that time my family was split in two, my father and my grandfather being working class and my uncle being rich, old money kind of rich. i never understood the conversations, but I now get that it must have been about that. my parents were sort-of-hippies, my father went through the not so glamorous 80s heroin epidemic and became a carpenter my mom was a brilliant economy student who left university at 19 to have me as a child and stay at home in a small town in northern italy. the rage was a lot I think.. yet the things they were doing were kind of the same: cook too much food, giving too many gifts, buying useless things, put on some decorations and try to be good catholics.. maybe it was an opportunity for my family to prove them that they could afford everything as they do, and I always ended up being the kid with more toys even if substantially less rich than my cousins. when 2008 crisis came my family was in big financial debt since my family was in the construction field and things between my parents started to get tense.. my father would be so depressed and started drinking, my mother was doing 2 jobs and i would follow her everywhere like a dog. i really think that capitalism destroyed our family, showed how fragile our bonds were and how dependent on capital our happiness was. this christmas will be the first one I spend with them after 10 years, and things are dramatically and happily changed: my father decided to go to rehab this summer and he is clean, my aunt divorced from my uncle, who by the way was a wife beater, and she started to work as a teacher, my cousins and I will be taking care of the food, and we are all vegan. and anti capitalist. and my grandparents are now really really old and sweet

[ceasarslegion]

What is the gift card story?

Oh boy.

So when this happened, I worked at a Kiehl's. To those who don't know, it's a luxury skincare company that charges 80 bucks for a tub of moisturizer. Not even the specialty kind, either. It's honestly stupid overpriced for what it is except for a very small list of products and discount sets and I do not recommend it now that I'm no longer working there and can give my honest opinion of it.

The company also tries to feel special to embarrassing extents. They made us do this service where we'd basically sit you down and stick this machine to your cheek that was basically a flaw finder and we'd spend half an hour telling you everything wrong with you in an attempt to get you to drop 300 dollars on a 6 step routine. In all honesty, just wash your face, moisturize, and use sunscreen if youre going out in the sun. You don't need a 145 dollar anti aging serum, you cant permanently reverse aging, that's not how the science works, and aging isn't a curse or a sign of lesser worth anyway. It's a blessing not afforded to most. The stuff they claim they're "reversing" are usually just skin dehydration side effects. You get the same results from a run of the mill moisturizer. If your acne's persistent and uncomfortable then retinol serums do actually work for that, but don't fuck your self esteem by convincing yourself you need retinol to keep wrinkles from forming. It's not worth it, you'll end up with an empty wallet and depression and none of the lasting results you were promised the second you stop using it.

Anyway, we got quite an entitled customer base because of the combination of unaffordable price gouging and these frilly free services that made them feel special for 30 minutes of their disconnected bourgeois lives. The kind of people who think that theyre better than the employees because they got lucky enough to have a rich husband or nepotism'ed their way into high paying positions and convinced themselves that they're self-made. A lot of them im convinced only spent that much money because they could.

So one day this lady comes in and buys a hand cream. Shes a little rude and off-putting but whatever, she's not yelling at me over prices i cant control so pick your battles, right? I ring it through, ask how's she's paying, she says visa. I hand her the machine. She goes through the whole thing. It gets approved, I give her her reciept and say "have a nice day~!" to which she growls "why didn't you take my gift card?!"

This caught me off-guard, and I kinda blinked vacantly at her and went "I... w-what?"

She takes out a gift card from her wallet, which at no point she showed me or made me aware she had, and said "why didn't you take my gift card?!"

With all the self-control I can muster, I say "I... was not made aware that you had one, ma'am."

Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say. She started staring at me like she wanted me dead. Started going off about how the customer is always right and demanding a full refund while still keeping the hand cream. I told her that this is very much not a scenario where that would be appropriate.

Adult temper tantrum ensues. She calls me stupid and says that I clearly don't know anything. My eye is starting to twitch, and my manager on duty catches this interaction and gracefully saves me from cussing out a bitch by taking over and running a return, followed by a second transaction with the gift card as payment.

You wanna know how much was on it?

Two dollars.

Two fucking dollars. She pulled that shit and called me stupid and started throwing a temper tantrum over TWO. DOLLARS. In a store that charges FORTY for that bottle of hand cream. If you're dropping forty fucking dollars on hand cream in the middle of an inflation crisis worse than that America is going through, you can afford to swallow a toonie. If you're shopping there in 2023, you're not struggling enough that two dollars is a legitimate concern, you know very well what you're doing here, and I'm not gonna fucking have that as someone who was struggling to get by on 16 an hour.

So I got her banned from the store. Fuck off and die, toonie gift card lady.

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Hips'N'Thighs

Kinktober is is full effect y'all! A month of smutty, spooky goodness coming right up. Shoutout to our lovely host, @nahimjustfeelingit-writes for putting her thing down so consistently.

Pairing: Odell Beckham Jr × Crinasia

Tags: Smut, Hypnosis, Sex Pollen?, 🏳️‍🌈 LGBT

A well known viral hypnotist had set up shop and was recording on campus and he'd gathered a lil crowd or whatever. Crinasia was always a skeptic, the type to ask the questions no one else wanted to ask. "I don't care bout ya lil sighin," her lip curled, eyes rolling at her best friend. He was like a happy ass kid who felt like street hypnosis was real and he was ret'ta be made a BooBoo the Fool of on the innanet. Crinasia was not convinced. "No cuz I'm 'sposed to believe these people ain't paid actors? Broke as we college students are? Get ya views, honey, but I don't buy it."

"Girl, you so damn anti. Hold my purse."

It was a lil satchel, but he tossed it at her as he approached the lying ass white boy who had his film crew and was asking for volunteers. 'Volunteers'.

"Odell is here," bestie announced giving his model face to the camera with his best angles. He was eating.

"Ah," her tongue stuck out in pride.

"So have you ever been hypnotized," The hypnotist asked, shoving a mic in his face.

"No," he smiled sweetly, "But my friend says you fakkke," he gritted on her, blinking his eyes back to the hypnotist. "I beliee you tho."

"Friend? Is she your girlfriend by chance," the hypnotist looked between the two.

Crinasia's face said 'tf you think?'

Odell took one look at Crinasia and, "HA," he bleated, "Baby if you can't tell," his wrist bent in demonstration to send the message as his tongue popped. "Ok?! I skipped gold, my star platinum, cut from the pooch no cooch," he held his abs in demonstration. He'd never touched a coochie in his damn life. The audience was on his side already and the hypnotist was eatin it up.

"Friend, don't explain yourself. This a whole YouTube show for views and clicks, ain't shit real."

"Can the friend step up," the mic moved to her face. "What's your name?"

"...Crinasia."

"Crinasia! If it's not real you have no reason not to try it, right? It's fake so there's no problem. Right? Stay right here," the hypnotist gestured gathering four more people. "I need all of you to look behind me at the line of trees, look at them and look far past them in your mind letting your body relax. Arms relaxed, head relaxed, shoulders relaxed, back relaxed, legs relaxed. Focus on feeling your limbs heavy and weighted. Heavy, relaxed. Heavy, relaxed. Sleep," he snapped. Instantly all six heads dropped including Crinasia's. The small crowd went stupid.

He went down the line feeding lies and fake lives. "You're in the middle of an orgasm that won't stop. Sleep... The man beside you is cheating on you with a woman in the crowd. Sleep... You forgot your name and why you're here. Sleep... You're childhood dog just died and you're depressed. Sleep..." When he reached Odell and Crinasia, "You're dating your best girl friend here. Sleep... You think I'm the best hypnotist ever. Sleep..." He winked to the crowd. "When I say wake my words will become you're reality. Wake," he snapped creating CHAOS.

"HUhn~.. hUhn~" The first girl almost moaned holding onto her pussy like it was finna run from her body. She had no fuckin shame hunchin over and cummin on herself over and over, nothin telling her to be embarrassed.

"You fuckin cheatin on me? You cheatin?!" The second girl pushed the nigga beside her, on the ground where she started to stomp his ass out with her boot until the hypnotist whispered in her ear to sleep. Whole time that nigga was looking scared and confused as fuckkk. He stayed his ass down.

The next guy in line was sniffing and wiping his eyes on his shirt like someone really died, his face screwed up with real tears.

Then there was Odell. He looked at Crinasia and smiled holding her face in his hand to kiss her, looking confused when she pulled back with her lip curled in disgust. "Fuck is yo problem?" He tried again. "Crinasia..Stop playin wit me."

"Uh uh!" She pushed him back a third time. "What the fuck?! What the hell you do to him?"

The hypnotist shrugged with a grin.

"Change him back, you got my bestie fucked up!"

"Baby, you so angry that shit turn me onnn," he growled in her ear, the sound deep like a wolf as he grabbed her hips. His voice was not that deep. She ain't like the places it was touchin. "Let go somewhere," he hinted giving her fuck me eyes. She mushed his face and the crowd continued to laugh at her and everyone else.

"Uh uh! OK, you win. You got it, you real. Now put him back!"

"Sleep."

Crinasia and the other four's heads all dropped again. "When I give the word you'll be back to normal. Back as you were, no trauma, no embarrassment, and feeling better than ever. You'll all think I am the best hypnotist ever. Wake."

The crowd cheered and Crinasia was a believer ready to go before somethin else popped off.

"Girl! That hoe was like.. Hnn~, Hoh yes deddyy," Crinasia copied bending over 'bout to throw it back.

"Ok but can we talk about ol'girl who almost stomped a nigga? I Stan, bitch."

"Can we talk about wtf happened to you?" Crinasia cackled as his eyes got wide.

"Bitch, I'm scaredt. Who tf was that?"

"Babyy, it was giving straight!" She laughed more. "The way I need the video LINK. It was lowkey sexy.. lowkey 👌🏾."

"Girl don't- I don't even knoow."

She got that link a few days later. They checked YouTube and the whole lil vid was there. She replayed the hip grab over and over and Odell was ret'ta go gay for his damn self watching.

Of course shit don't always go so smooth, there's always hiccups when dealing with the mind, it will take a new idea and run for the border. Unbeknownst to Crinasia, Odell's brain was skatin.

Fast forward through normalcy, what Crinasia ain't know was that Odell was still battling the outta pocket thoughts that had been implanted and accumulating in his mind. They both thought he snapped out of it. Only he knew the thoughts and feelings that remained toward his best friend.

So when they went to a party together, he was still for the niggas. That didn't change. He felt the same, he liked getting slutted out by a tall trade hood niggas and wasn't nothing on a woman that he wanted. Maybe titties. He looked down at Crinasia's in her push up bra, almost half out her halter. He'd seen her titties many times and she had some pretty ones. Lately he'd been paying more attention. He liked to grab and play with them, watching as she changed. That wasn't weird to him, in his mind all men liked titties gay or straight, just like all men liked ass. Crinasia had a fat ass. He told her many times, slapping it, she knew. In the party especially, her ass looked good in that jumpsuit. He had to grab it. He had to!

He danced and found a sexy ass nigga from the football team who he suspected was on the DL 'cuz he kept lookin. He was determined to pull him, talking football to draw him into taking his number. Maybe he'd call him to "hang out" and they could pretend he ain't know he was really coming over to get his dick slurped on so he could still feel straight.

The nigga poured Odell liquor that the wrong thoughts and feelings. The more he drank, the better he felt but he also had a hard dick and a desire to fuck this nigga.. not only this nigga, but Crinasia. He gasped and set his cup down walking away to clear his mind. He never thought like that before being hypnotized. He'd already messaged the hypnotist days ago for help to fix him and make him fully gay again, but the bitch ain't answer yet. It was left to him to manage his erections and thoughts himself.

The best course of action was to just go ahead and tell Crinasia, plus he was loose and feeling sexy with a hard ass dick.

"Fuck it," he approached his bestie snatching her up and pulling her to the side. She was still dancing with her red cup in hand until he kissed her on the lips, she stopped stunned. "Best friend I'm drunk and feeling sexy. I'm tryna experiment. What you think?"

"Boy bye, I thought you were gay."

"So did I. I think I still am I just wanna sample the pussy."

"You sure," she asked just as tipsy. "You gone lose yo stars."

"Girl," he sighed, "Honestly I don't know, but I wanna see what it's hitting on I never had the meow."

"Shit, I have, ah," her tongue stuck out. They found a lil closet to dip into with Odell giving Crinasia lil cat licks like he was scared until she grabbed him by the head. Usually he'd have some bleached curls but he'd recently gotten a haircut.. after the hypnotizing. Slowly Odell started to get into it, working up to using his whole tongue and Crinasia only had to walk him through it a little. "Put yo tongue under it and suck it. Just like that," she rubbed his head with her thigh on his shoulder. He basically knew what to do from all the hoe stories she'd shared. "Don't be scared put ya finger in there, you feel that spongy part? That's the g-spot.

"Oh I can fuck up a g-spot," he bragged doing his best work there. He wasn't bad at all. It wasn't great, but it was his first time with a girl.

To her surprise the aggression returned when he turned her to face the wall, kicked her legs apart, and bended her over like she was another nigga. His dick slapped across her asscheeks, spanking em. She had never seen his dick, but now she was feeling the weight and the length as he spread her ass and spit between, letting drool slide down to her pussy and sliding his shaft up and down between her cheeks.

"Play with your pussy," he said sliding his tip over her asshole briefly and sinking it into her kitty. Feeling warm wetness, he closed his eyes and didn't see man or woman, he felt ushy gooshy tight hole and instinctively thrust his hips rolling them against that ass to get deep and feel the soft walls massaging and squeezing like a satisfying hug. The suction as he slid out pulled him back in, he just had to let his dick get sucked back. He'd pull it back out and push it back in deep making sure his whole dick felt pressure. He slapped that ass hard with a loud noise and grabbed it going faster and creating friction against her walls the way he knew he liked to feel. He pressed on the back below him and nearly climbed it getting deep strokes. He moved the way he liked niggas to move when fucking him.

The moans reminded him that he wasn't just fuckin, he was fuckin his bestie. He opened his eyes. Maybe he shouldn't go so hard. Her hand was clamped over her own mouth. He was fuckin her up. Okay, maybe a lil more, he thought pulling her neck in his hand as he clapped her cheeks. Her wig was too laid and it would've been a crime to pull it though it was glued. Her hand dropped to hold the wall again and she was moaning openly like that girl who was hypnotized. Odell's nut was on its way up. He'd forgotten a condom so he held it back.

"Crinasia," he moaned and she instantly nutted nearly falling over but he had a grip on her. He pulled out and almost jumped back when she spun to take his leaking nut in her mouth, sucking the head of his penis.

After that party she couldn't tell him he wasn't a bi king although he still never had a sexual attraction for any other girls and wouldn't entertain being with one romantically. He was turned off by it. Anytime she'd say something smart as was her loving way of talking sense into him, his response was along the lines of "But I fucked you tho, so.. ah. We love a bi king."

"Once don't count, that's an experiment boo. You don't like pussy, you like ME because you like yourself and we one," Crinasia gestured. "You gay bitch."

He had told everyone including all of TikTok that he'd dipped his finger in a lil kitty cat meow meow and aside from never wanting to do it again, it was good especially due to the girl. She was dope.

Everyone knew it was Crinasia because she told them. "Ya girl fell in love with the D," she joked. "You'd have thought he was straight. Ooh girl he got bomb dick." Had the girls and the girls wanting to try it.

Unfortunately Crinasia wasn't totally joking, she really wanted that dick again. He didn't just fuck, he fawked. Who'd have thought. She always saw him as a bottom. She joked about them Netflix n Chillin while they binged The Order and felt him look at her a lil sideways when she put her hand on his thigh. Still, they ended up fuckin again with her head and shoulders on the floor, back propped against the sofa, ass in the air. His leg was on the sofa and he was squatting dick into her because they were freaks and wanted to do it. He'd said that's how his football nigga had him the previous night and she'd wanted a visual demonstration so he gave her the 4D experience. They moved to the floor where she got on all fours and threw it back taking control and fucking him. All platonic.. They became sex buddies, fuckin when they were horny or just bored.

Crinasia was hooked, but not just because of the sex. At least she didn't think so, maybe it was. But she wanted Odell. Suddenly she was having dreams about him and blushing when he'd touch her. She had to stop herself, the shit was sick. He'd kissed a girl and liked it, but he was still gay. Straight as a car doin donuts.

"Dell, this a problem for me," she admitted since they were still best friends. They were walking through campus together to meet someone important. "I think I'm starting to want you.. as more... than a friend," she stared, vulnerable. "I like being with you.. and I like being with you." She sensed he already knew, but what would he say? She was nervous with a smile like she could hide it. She had a nervous laugh anyway.

"Babe," he stopped walking and held her hands. She had butterflies but didn't get her hopes up. "I'm attached to you too. Aww!"

She smiled feeling the but as he hugged her.

"Hey you know I love you but not like that."

"I know," she admitted. "You're not bi because it's just me and not all women. You still hypnotized."

"Speak of the devil," he guided her to the hypnotist who finally showed up after getting their messages. "I'm a beat yo ass," Odell told him making him laugh. "It better work this time I ain't got room to be losing friends."

"I got ya buddy, look just past me and focus on the top of that high tree in the distance. Relax, relax your shoulders, your arms? Your hands, your legs, your back. Allow yourself to dissociate and SLEEP." He yanked him putting a hand on his back. "Breathe in and out deeper. Sleep. In a deep sleep. Deeper sleep. Your not mad at me.. You're a hot and sexy college boy with better things to do than beat my ass and you're definitely not sexually attracted to your best friend, pfft, what was that? When I say the word my words will become your reality and you'll feel refreshed, better than ever. Wake. HEY BUDDY! How ya feel?

"I feel good," Odell stretched feeling at ease. "Thanks man." He looked at Crinasia for the true test, squinting his eyes. "Babe. Shake ya ass right quick?" His finger twirled.

She twerked on request and he screamed tackling her. "AHH! BITCH I'M BACK," he half twerked standing while she was on the grass fussin.. "Sorry," he whispered helping her up. He was happily back to being pussy repulsed and craving dick more than ever. He had an appointment to makkke. "Bestie I love you ❤️," he hugged her feeling nothing funny inside other than love. She couldn't be mad at that.

"Hypnotize me too," she said for good measure to forget her feelings. She woke happier.

Overall a good experience but neither Crinasia nor Odell would fuck with hypnotists or nagicians again after that.

The End.

@ogbritbrat @dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @localtrapgod @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @miyuhpapayuh

[arctic-hands]

So like from fourth grade on up, I stopped caring about fashion. Or at least that's what I told everyone, I really did care about my appearance but I wanted to be as anti-fashion and unfeminine as possible and put on an air of uncaring to do it. This included a pair of bright red Crocs in high school when they first came out that I then put as many obnoxious and clashing jibitz into, my own little rebellion against the absolutely ludicrous and drug hysteria-induced dress code that didn't think to cover Crocs and decorations thereof. This lasted until junior year of high school, at which point my fashion just became Depression (genuine).

Then come about nineteen years old and I figure out time to grow up and dress like an adult, which to me and my budget meant dressing in black skirts and various demure dresses and unintentionally looking more like a devout Christian school girl than anything. Then I decided to embrace my lesbianism and wear a lot of plaid. Then I decided to embrace my genderqueerness more but a lot of my clothes were given to me by women in my life because I hit harder times, so a lot of my clothes were very feminine and that's all I had to wear. Then I got fat and most of those don't fit anymore but even when they did I didn't feel right in these clothes even tho I still tried to dress like an acceptable adult. But now I'm thirty, and while I never want to be a kid again I really want to go back to my ridiculous, vibrant, outlandish clothes I had growing and I really fucking want these Crocs

[Image Description: an etsy listing for a pair of basic black Crocs foam clogs... Basic, but for the fact that the backing (that is raised up to convert into into a flip-flop) is rowed with bronze studs and the Crocs logo on it are purple rhinestone-studded, there's a band of flat silver studs around the top of the Crocs, followed by a band of gold chain, at which point there is a mishmash of purple round gem, big rectangular white gem surrounded by gold and smaller white gems, a bunch of gold studs to the side, and then the body of the Crocs before that is covered in distressed and frayed blue denim, at the top of which is a band of chain made of gold thread where a gold shaped heart charm hangs, and towards the toes are multicolored gems surrounding a rhinestone-studded cursive "love" charm in the middle. The sole of the Crocs are studded in small round bronze. I hope I conveyed the gaudiness of these shoes adequately. End I.D.]

I want these so fucking bad 😭

Unfortunately these custom Crocs are two hundred dollars. Which, fair, plain Crocs are like sixty bucks and I don't know the quality of the materials gone into this and their prices, not to mention the time and labor that went into designing this. But damn it all if it doesn't want to make me buy some Crocs on sale and bedazzle them up because holy fuck these are great.

Anyway if you like them too and want to snag a pair for yourself here's the Etsy listing

[inherstars]

When we first started dating, my husband told me a story about his Mom and his sister.

His sister, in every way a good girl and a good student, had made some small teenage slip-up of smoking a cigarette or maybe having a drink with her friends, and her parents found out.

Their mother took her out of school the next day, and they went out to get their nails done, their hair done. They had a nice lunch together, she took her out and bought her a cute outfit. Afterwards she sat her down and said, "Did you have a nice time today?" When his sister agreed that she had, their mother said, "Good, I'm glad. You can either have it this way, and enjoy nice things, or you can keep drinking / smoking, and you won't have these things anymore."

Sister decided that nice things and nice days out were the way to go, and it was never a problem again.

When we moved my parents here, I feel like this is the conversation I should have had with my mother.

When we moved them here in the summer of '18, my Mom was still all-in on a steady diet of Vicoprofen and some kind of anti-depressant that I don't remember, the combination of which alternately turned her in a zombie or a rage monster, and had some other unpleasant physical side-effects as well.

It took a good year to get her off of both these drugs. It helped that our area has a huge opioid problem, and doctors are gun-shy about prescribing unnecessary narcotics. Not that she didn't put on a VERY good show. Every day she was wincing and sucking her teeth over some new excruciating pain -- her hip, her back, her shoulder, whatever. When one failed to illicit the reaction she was hoping for, it miraculously got better and something else would start to pain her.

It also helped that when I would take her to these appointments, I would pull the nurse aside and let them know that she has a history of drug and alcohol abuse that she will not personally disclose.

She went through a LOT of doctors those first few months. You could tell the instant she asked for narcotics and was denied, because it was immediately a snappish declaration of, "I don't like this doctor, I don't think he knows what he's talking about."

Eventually all that shit got out of her system. The pains all suddenly went away, no more ooch'ing and ouch'ing, no more falling asleep slumped over her chair, no more shitting herself constantly and losing her dentures constantly.

For a long while, in fact, everything was fine. Which isn't to say she was always pleasant, because she's often still miserable and ungrateful, but she definitely became more tolerable. And for a while we had a pretty decent relationship.

I would take her out shopping, and introduced her to stores that she'd never been to before, and enjoyed. I would bake things for her and buy her little gifts. We would send each other memes and funny cat videos back and forth on Instagram. It was probably as good as it had ever been.

The problem is, I let my guard down. And that's where I fucked up.

She had an unrelated medical event (unrelated, although directly caused by her love of self-diagnosing and self-medicating herself, this time incorrectly), which landed her in the hospital, and which she managed to parlay into two separate prescriptions for Oxy, plus some muscle relaxers, plus some barbituates.

Suddenly she was spending all day slumped over her chair passed out, waking up only to argue with me or her husband, or shit herself.

I called her newest PCP, who -- surprise! -- had no idea that she had ANY history of substance abuse, and prescribed Narcan. Then we had a fun trip to the hospital, where we got to spend a fun 4 hours of her alternately vomiting into an emeses bag, howling that she was in pain and that everyone there was an idiot, and insisting that she hadn't taken a single pill that she shouldn't have in the past 27 years.

The level of delusion is astounding. Addicts live in their own reality.

All this to say that it's been a rough month or so of ER visits, hospital visits, rehab visits, medical ups and downs, caring for her and my stepfather while trying to also hold down my regular full time job and not just come home at 8:30 and immediately go to sleep.

She was released from the nursing facility on Wednesday, and immediately got snippy with me, demanding to know where her fucking pills were. Because I guess she assumed I'd just... what, leave them behind?

Right now, tentatively, she is back to taking care of herself and her husband, and I'm trying to get back to what was previously my normal life. She still can't drive, so anything beyond puttering back and forth is still left to me, but at least I don't have to make the trip there twice a day, and get an eyeful of my stepfather's naked 90-year-old ass and balls, because he refuses to wear pants.

But she's also doing things like sending me memes and funny cat videos on Instagram. And it's clear... she wants that back. She wants to have it both ways. I think she thinks I'm "mad at her" and that's why I'm not responding, that's why I'm going through the motions and doing what needs to be done, but declining to hug her or send her heart emojis or be her friend.

I don't want to be her friend. She had the choice of the good life -- shopping trips, little gifts, day to day conversation -- or drugs, and at the very first possible opportunity, she decided she wanted drugs.

I'm not sure if she'll ever ask, but I'm trying to formulate in my head how I'll explain to her, if I need to, that it's over now. The station is closed, the lights are off, the train doesn't stop there anymore.

You had a choice, and you made it, and you are already way, way past your lifetime allotment of do-overs.

[zorasthoughts]

agggtm and midnights part two: anti-hero

as usual, spoilers under the cut

skipping past maroon because with the exception of a couple of lyrics (the mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones / the lips i used to call home = pip and ravi during the time they were apart at the end of agad) it's not a song that really applies to them

anti-hero, on the other hand, is definitely one for pip

i have this thing where i get older but just never wiser / midnights become my afternoons

the way pip is on a case every few months (which really disrupts the poor girl's sleep because she'll end up working in the middle of the night), but even when she thinks she's prepared for what life will throw at her, she still ends up running face-first into problems

when my depression works the graveyard shift / all of the people i've ghosted stand there in the room

i'm kind of squinting with these lyrics because pip didn't choose for anyone to become ghosts to her - but the trauma of emotional responsibility means that she feels incredibly haunted by all the people that got hurt either before, during, or after her cases, even if she had literally no responsibility or involvement with what happened to them. andie. sal. becca. cara. naomi. stanley. nat.

i should not be left to my own devices / they come with prices and vices / i end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

this makes me think so much of the scene in agad when pip is trying to catch her stalker and ravi points out how unhealthy that attitude is

i wake up screaming from dreaming / one day i'll watch as you're leaving / 'cause you got tired of my scheming (for the last time)

pip was really going through it in agad. it's not until after ravi comes to green scene after jason's murder that pip realises she can't have secrets from him anymore, and confesses about her burner phones and buying xanax

it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me / at tea time, everybody agrees / i'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror / it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

the way pip thought of herself of maybe just having done more harm than good for everyone. the fact that people that were once her friends (ant and lauren) turned against her because of general perception, rather than being there for the person they'd been friends with for literal years. the way that pip was so full of doubt whether her actual friends would help her when she asked, even though that's literally all they wanted to do the entire time. god, i'm so emotional about her :(

did you hear my covert narcissism i disguise as altruism / like some kind of congressman? (tale as old as time)

i don't think pip is narcissistic, but i do think that in her podcast in agad about jason's murder that she was maybe playing god, and definitely playing with fire, and at this point she was definitely looking over her shoulder a lot (hawkins does make a point to ask her about her podcast about jason's murder, asking why she'd do that when he knew that jason didn't like her, and pip hadn't spoken well of him in her first podcast)

i wake up screaming from dreaming / one day i'll watch as you're leaving / and life will lose all its meaning (for the last time)

there's such a fragility and sense of disconnectedness in pip in agad, and understandably so, because she's been through so much trauma, and i think she's definitely scared of being abandoned by her friends, and most especially ravi, considering everything she went through, and how she was trying to cope with it (i.e. unsuccessfully), and then everything else that happens

the end of the song is mainly just a repetition of the it's me, hi, i'm the problem, it's me, and i'm too tired to type it all, but it really just hammers home pip's state of mind. i'm always rooting for this anti-hero though.

[thanook]

I like to imagine Cave Johnson as a good guy.

Cave Johnson here. Trans rights are human rights (disagreeing with that is a quick way to lose your job), but, as my research of the American legal system has led me to believe, healthcare isn't. To solve this contradiction, aperture science is now sponsoring gender affirming care to anyone who may request it. You are welcome.

Cave Johnson here. Remember that story about the "ultra cheap HRT" that made its pacients "report instantenous gender euphoria"? So, the FDA got it tested; it turns out it's mostly dopamine. The bad news is that there will be no refund to anyone in the testing team. The good news is a new anti-depressant is on the way, and boy, it's the best bang-for-your-buck you'll see coming from this company. You're welcome.

Cave Johnson here. As it turns out, a lot of you where you were using the aperture gender affirming care thing to fund your personal healthcare. Some of you have your names on a list, and should expect nothing from this company from now on. You know who you are. Some of you, however, were doing this because of chronical disease you simply don't have the money to pay for. As a result, the Aparture Science Healthcare Plan is now available for people with most chronical diseases. Yes, cancer counts. You are welcome.

Cave Johnson here. You can now spank racists. That's right! If you can proved to us that what you did was against a bigot, which, by our definition, includes transphobes, homophobes, xenophobes, flat out racism and a lot more, and as long as no bones were broken, we will do jack shit about it. We will claim there was no footage of the event and will say that what you did was in legitimate defense. Be careful still. If they go to a hospital, it comes down to us, so no going too hard on them. You're welcome.

Cave Johnson here. We are now switching to a fully free, open source environment. I don't have the slightest idea of what that means, but it does mean we pay 200 bucks less per computer we buy in Windows licenses. Apparently, my laptop was the first to undergo the change, except I wasn't told. I didn't notice a change. I hope it goes down as smoothly for you as it went for me. If it doesn't, try youtube. Also, apparently, this thing doesn't run most games. It's part of the reason for me to be so happy with this change. We pay you to make science, not no-scopes.

Cave Johnson here. Since the healthcare program, the company as a whole has grown a lot more. So, like my dad always told me, if something makes money, do more of it. So, long story short, we are now paying for botherline everything you can do at a hospital. Seriously. Convince us you need it and we pay for it. You're welcome.

[dearemmett]

Dad? Is it really you? I don't know if you remember me, but I remember you

It is! I've changed @ so many times by this point ;3; But yes, it is in fact me~ (life updates under the cut, where I've been, what my plans are, etc)

TLDR; I left Tumblr for quite some time, as I made changes to my life and dealt with everything else. I'm finally on anti-depressants and trying to get back into the art grind.

But to fully update you all, I went to a really bad place mentally. I didn't want to keep going or do anything. The pandemic made things inherently worse as I was kept inside with nothing to do. I turned to streaming, but there's only so much that can do for me. I had a fight with my mom, moved out and to another state to live with friends, where I barely left the house, barely went outside. I was chronically online (Twitter mostly), and without a job, I had nothing to distract me at all. There weren't even any sidewalks where I was, so I wasn't able to walk anywhere. Shoutout to my friend Aimee for taking me Pokemon hunting or buying me gifts because it boosted my mood a bit.

My physical health also tanked. I do not have a single tooth that is not decaying and/or broken. I dealt with a few UTIs, and since I had no insurance, I had to deal with it by myself, that led to a kidney infection. I was in pain for a whole month. My knee is fucked up because I slept on a tiny couch. My sensory issues have gotten worse. My eyesight has also gotten worse. Apparently I'm also allergic to animals, so that explains why my breathing and allergies were super bad while living with my friends.

Another thing that tanked my mood were the gacha games. I got into Genshin, and lets just say the RNG hates me. I'd get increasingly frustrated and upset at having to pull till damn near hard pity, or losing 50/50s, seeing everyone have this amazing luck, that it was depressing. This one's no one's fault but my own, of course.

Now, though, I'm back in with my mom. She's a hell of a lot more understanding, I think, or at the very least we came to an understanding. She still struggles with my being trans, but we're working on it. My dad calls me Q, or Cubone (q-bone, get it?). I'm still struggling to find a job, and so I stream every night on Twitch, as well as having art commissions open. I also have a Ko-fi. As I stated, I'm on anti-depressants now, after so many years of being without, on the max dosage of Lexipro. We're in an AirBNB right now, as my dad was transferred up here, and is going to get transferred again at the end of summer, so moving isn't done yet.

All in all, things are (hopefully) getting better. The Pasta Mafia is still here, it's just changed shape. My current community molded it a little bit, so it has lore now, blah blah. You can find the blog here at @slimesyndicate, and I plan on posting shenanigans when I finally get the chance. Other than that, here is all the places you'll be able to find me! :) I do plan on coming back to Tumblr, slowly but surely. I miss it here. It's mostly still just going to be binges here and there for the time being.

For those who are still from the glory days of the Pasta Mafia, please know that I've remembered you and keep you in my heart to this day.

I love every single one of you <3

Twitter Twitch Ko-fi Instagram Discord Server

[lovemesomesurveys]

When’s the last time you ate bread? I'm about to eat a sandwich.

What’s the last movie you watched on your own? I watched Mrs. Doubtfire earlier and now Freaky Friday is on.

What about the last movie you watched with another person? My mom and I watched some of Avengers: Endgame last night before bed.

How many coats do you own? I have a few. I kinda feel ready to go through my clothes again and try to get rid of some more.

What about shoes? I have 6 pairs of shoes.

One word to describe your most recent ex? Funny.

Where, in your current country, would you like to live, other than where you do now? I'm honestly not sure. I know I don't want to stay here forever. I'd love to move in the very near future, but that probably won't happen.

Do you like snow? Yes.

Do you like sheer clothing? No.

Have you ever seen anyone famous in the street? When I first saw the Jonas Brothers early on I did actually see Joe and Kevin behind the building near their tour bus. I acted like the awkward weirdo I am and waved at them like a giddy idiot, ha. I was too nervous to actually go over there, though. Trust me, I kicked myself forever after that for not going up to meet them and getting a picture. It was the perfect opportunity.

Are you hungry right now? I am, so I'm gonna take a break from this and eat my sandwich.

Are you regularly tired? Yes. In fact, after I ate my sandwich I ended up taking like a 3 hour "nap." So, this is now being done much later, ha.

What was the last thing to upset you? I've been been extra irritable and sensitive again lately, which is something that I actually felt my depression med I started taking last year was helping with. I was also prescribed Rexulti in additon to what I'm taking, but I haven't taken it as consistently for different reasons and I'm wondering if that has something to do with it. I'm also on an anti-anxiety med, which had been helping with that as well so I don't know. And I already know I won't be able to get an increase in the dosage for any of those. Sigh.

How’s the weather been today? I didn't go out at all, but according to the weather app it was like 93 F today. Not fall weather at all that's for sure.

What was the first tattoo you got or what would be the first tattoo you’ll get? I don't have any, but since I was a teenager I've wanted to get 'free bird'.

What was the last store you went into and did you buy anything? It's this store called Daiso, which is kinda like a Japanese Dollar Store or a little more. It's got a lot of cute stuff. I always get a little carried away whenever I go in there.

Have you ever been late for school or work? Yeah. I hate being late so it wasn't a common occurrence. I used to be really anal about that.

Do you prefer to shower in the morning or at night? Always at night.

What is your favourite kind of fruit cobbler? Not a fruit cobbler kind of person.

Is there a basement in your house? If so, what is it used for? No.

Have you driven a car today? I don't drive.

Do you have a small, medium or large bedroom? It's too small. I've definitely outgrown it. Or maybe I have too much stuff but no it's just small okay shhh

Where was your first job and how old were you? I haven't had a job, yet.

Have you eaten soup this week? No. That doesn't sound appealing still it still feels very much like summer and I hate it.

Are you a fan of The Office? I just couldn't get into it.

When was the last time you started a new medication? A couple months ago.

What is your favourite type of nut? I very rarely eat nuts, it's been quite awhile since I've had any like I don't even remember. But anyway, that being said I do like a few like peanuts, cashews, pistachios, and season (not plain) almonds.

Do you know anyone who doesn’t have a middle name? Yeah.

Have you put your phone on silent today? No. The only time I do that is when I'm at the theater, and admittedly not always then. Not like my phone is blowing up with notifications.

Can you name all 50 US state capital cities? No, but I can name all 50 states in alphabetical order.

Do you read John Green novels? I only read a few.

Have you ever been to Universal Studios? I went once when I was like 7 and don't remember a whole lot to be honest. We also went to Disneyland after that and that I definitely remember.

Can you tie balloons? I can, but it can be hard sometimes.

When was the last time you were at a pet store? It's been a long time.

[1ntr0v3rted]

Bro I’ve been long gone

I haven’t posted for like a week- and 22 states passed a anti-trans law??

Okay here’s my problem, it’s awful to make it illegal for somebody to be themselves, in their position they think being trans is a mental illness. I see how they think that for being trans has our downfalls of bullying etc which leads to anxiety and depression but being trans isn’t a mental illness

I myself is trans, I haven’t gotten testosterone yet, on birth control and I have a binder thankfully I live in a state that has abortion and trans rights legal, My state has many queer’s tbh and no homophobia

Churches specifically here are very accepting so we don’t have any homophobia unless it’s a personal opinion, unfortunately I came out about a year ago, and during that year I went to gender clinics, doctors, and buying binders online and lowering my voice to fit in as a boy, I felt as if all of my work went to nothing cause in the middle of transition the abortion laws were set. I’m even happier now for my lower voice that I force on myself and I wear clothes that make me feel like a boy.

I still need to wait to figure out how to get testosterone. I want it at least soon before any of these laws pass my state (which I hope they won’t)

I’m not old enough to get chest surgery, and my own other side of my family (my moms side) doesn’t exactly support me.

I have a name change and I have many queer friends, but it’s unfortunate that I can’t be myself in public spaces anymore. I get scared a lot when going in public if somebody sees me and thinks of a girl or if somebody ends up misgendering me I end up wanted to melt in a puddle

If you really cared for children you would’ve just let them be themselves. The suicide rates are most likely gonna go up because of this and you could’ve stopped it by giving these children the right care they need.

Thank you - a pissed off introvert 3/14/23