#joke i dotn care

[butchlifeguard]

next year i can get a car do you know how much im gonna be a carabiner butch

[rox-of-iu]

me + mayhem going on a stupid silly hike for my stupid silly mental health

touched grass and i am normal again (lying)

[madness-combat-confessions]

hey gang, that one jeb simping anon again, and this time, im here to say

i REALLY NEED JEB. Its not even a joke anymore bro im just down bad. God i wish he was real. You ever just look at a man and wish you could make him pregnant? Thats me. Right now. Every day. Every year. Augh i would KILL to be with him. I dotn care. I need to hold him. And love him. And kiss his wife ass forehead. I need to tuck him in goodnight. I want to stab him. I wanna shoot him. I wanna braid his hair. I wanna hold his hand. I wanna go shopping with him. I wanna spoil him. I want to cook for him. Make him a sandwich. GOD TJE THINGS JW woulf DO IF HE WAS REAL

Hey anon I just wanted to let you know that your confession lives in the back of my head. Quite literally. After reading/posting it I tried sleeping because it was late at night and all I could think about was your confession. i could hear my voice reading the confession out loud in my head. i close my eyes and all I thought of was " I can't even begin to FATHOM how desperatly I need jeb". I'm being serious btw. And I don't mean this in a bad way I just wanted to say that your confession was literally life changing. Glad to see you haven't changed/j

[restforthe-burdenedsoul]

7 days later, im back to wanting to walk out the door at work.

I don’t think they’ve even posted the jobs yet. They’re continuing to take new clients even tho we are beyond max capacity. I just got assigned a brand new case today and am still getting old cases assigned to me.

I think it would be worth staying if they showed any ounce of compassion and enacted the wait list! What else is it there for?!?! And ive inherited cases with letters that they’re on the wait list/have come off the wait list so I know its a thing they do!!!

Instead, they are continuing to give us new cases on top of the old cases and still expecting us to get all the time sensitive paperwork done while throwing new time sensitive paperwork at us. Gtfo

If any of the new people leave, I am leaving too.

Okay i cant actually do that because I have bills. But mentally I’ll be gone 😅

I dont know what to think about this. I feel like im never going to happy at any job. And pet sitting/walking was such a nice dream in the moment 😞 I did have a groomer call me today to network but I was caught off guard because it was after work. I dotn usually answer my phone. Idk why I did and I was so confused. So I dont know if she will actually refer to me or not.

My brain is super fried and im having trouble talking and not mixing up my words out loud. That is how stressed I am at/from work.

I had my first breakdown at work over work stress yesterday.

It was my 2 month anniversary May 3rd. It feels like its been years. Aside from my very first social work job and my hospital job, ive never cried from stress this early on in A job.

Is that normal? This this normal?

They keep saying its going to get better, but when? When do people stop leaving?

(Dont even get me started on how this affects the clients and their quality of care. Because thats a joke right now. These poor people)

[rotting-sun]

Would anyone even miss me. Am i even worth that.

My gf is bored of me. My friends only reach out when theres no one else to talk to.

What if i do it? I dont think theyd even care. They would probably be better off.

My feelings are such a burden. I am such a burden. If i kms im sure it would be a favor to them. They’d finally have a weight off their shoulders.

I’m boring and pathetic and every bad human trait there is. I am fundamentally unloveable. Everyone is only with me because they pity me. My gf is friends with so many other people. So many interesting people. So many pretty people. Better than me. Idk why she doesnt just. Break up w me and get w them. She says shes “in love” w people all the time so. I should kms and then she wouldnt have to feel bound to me. I could amke her life easier. Simpler. I wouldn’t be stuck to her.

She probably thinks i’m so annoying. All i do is tell her how much i love her. All i do is talk to her. All day. Im so fucking clingy. She probably so sick of me. So sick of everything i do and am. She probably regrets ever wanting to be w me. And i dont blame her.

I dotn want her to hurt me. Ik on some level that im probably being dramatic rn. Ik that. But ik shes going to get bored eventually. She gonna get sick of how sick i am. Of all of my issues. Shes not gonna find me interesting anymore. I’m gonna drive her away and it’ll be no one’s fault but my own. Ik im not worth staying for. She’ll find someone better. She’s already said shes in love w one of her online friends. Ik she meant it as a joke. Platonic. Whatever tf. But it doesn’t feel like that. She thinks that girl is so much prettier than me. I know that. She probably is. I don’t even compare. I’m not worth anything. I dont deserve anything. She deserves so much more than me and she knows ut too. Shes gonna leave and theres nothing i can do to stop it. I am nothing. Pathetic. Ugly. Worthless. A coward. How much of a coward do u have to be to not be able to pull the trigger when u WANT to. How much?

She didn’t even tell me she loved me back this morning. But she would txt the gc we’re both in. It’s not that hard to shoot off an ily. Anything. An acknowledgment. I dont want to feel invisible. Not to her. Shes supposed to pick me. I’m supposed to be her #1. I don’t understand. Shes supposed to love me. I’m supposed to mean smth to her. Right? She’s supposed to want me with her. Why am I always the last choice? Why do I always get chosen last? Why am I not worthy of love and attention when other people are? What makes me so bad? Why can’t I stop being me for a little while? I just wanna know what it’s like. To be above everyone else for someone. To be worth smth to someone. I just want to be someone’s first; I wanna be someone’s person. Their favorite. I want reciprocation. Why do I always get the short ebd of the stick. I don’t understand. WHAT DID I FUCKING DO TO DESERVE TO BE SO GODDAMN UNLOVEABLE. WHAT DID I DO AND HOW TF DO I FIX IT. Please.

It just. Hurts. Everything hurts. I don’t want it to hurt anymore. I want it to be over. I don’t wanna have to feel anything anymore. I wanna be done. It’s too much and it’s painful. My emotions feel like third degree burns. And no one gets it. They can’t. And they don’t care anyways. I deserve to be shot in tje head.

I don’t deserve to be here anyway. I know god hates me. It’s okay tho. I get it. Just wish he would do smth abt it.

[gayspock]

ok 1 more whinge

me everyweekend i wonder how many weekends it is and how many days it is of just sitting in the dark waiting for the next fucking minute to tick over fucking agony of boredom and fucking fear of the nextweek. im still so fucked with work and i reallyshould have just done ti today so i wouldnt be so screwed but my head hurts and its dribing me into a fucking needless panic and i dont know w hat the fuckign point is. i just dont fuckingcare man. my headaches getting worse i fucking wnat it to be over i dotn know what else to do with myself just ever i fucking hate everything i fucking hate everything do you ever justfeel this fucking . whatever in your chest i fucking hate everything i want to cry icant fucking get a hold of anyhting i feel like everyone else theyjsut have at leas tfucking something i fucking hate everything bro . who saidthat

lllike its notevenabout loneliness , cuz even if itwasnt jsut that i just wonder what its like to existin any sort of capacity. idotn know i wonderwhat its like sometimes tojust dothings and not fucking just . fucking close inon yourself or find somefuckignenjoyment or purpose or interest or godforbid pride andksillor fucking whatever. oh just go away do something with your hands hahayou'llfeel bette ri feel so much fucking worse every time i fucking feel the walls closing in every timei go away and try try try to be a fucking person with interests or anysoet of substanceit feels like im just fucking joke . how many times youve not done that enough you didnt try hard enough i fucking want to killmyself i feel like everyone give a fuck about something everyone has some sort of anything theyre fucking passioante aboutsomething tojust. e ven if theyre dogshit depressed they seemto fucking go back to it i dont fuckng know any more i dont care i could burn it all down and i dont think it would ever matter im thinking about trying to destroy the shit i havbe from years ago that just takes up space cuz why .

[fortunatelyenchantingtaco]

Its always enchanting to see older people who are not depressed out of their mind lmao. Like i know this sounds morbid or like a joke but this is something i have legit never encountered before leaving Ukraine. Like Soviet Union was so bad about taking care of the elderly. Not necessarily in the health department, i mean in the activities you can do department, and a lot of it stayed

Id youre over forty then youre too old to hire on a job. There are no clubs for interests. There are no places to hand out it aside from around the neighbourhood on the benches near the water fountain and there are less and less of them. Im not joking rn when i tell you my grandmother was severely depressed and absolutely confident all of her life that she wouldnt make it past 50 cause no one in her family ever did. So when she did reach that point she legit didnt know what to do with her life because she have never planned anything for that time

Like its always interesting to hear people say that older generation shares wisdom with them cause mine never did, or havent gotten the ability i honestly have no idea? Like my great grandma met her husband in the army during the second world war and i shit you not they have never breathed no word about it to anyone. I suspect it was paranoia cause national news were heavily curated, but no one actually knows

Soviet Union had a very particular image of “young people thin and strong and sporty and smart” that was supposed to be everywhere, so people who haven’t fit that description simply havent been cared for. Any people left disabled after the war were gathered and shipped to Sybir to keep the fancy public image. Women have been keeping a secret that they served in the army if they weren’t married cause it society assumed they were someone’s war wife there, and it was met with judgement both from men and from women who stayed because its like stealing someone’s husband

A ridiculous amount of stuff was left hush hush in soviet union, both because someone could snitch on you and walls have ears, and because god forbid you dotn support what the political party says

Im sorry to say it but i havent met anyone happy in my lifetime until i went abroad. I have never seen anyone in my home die in peace and have never seen anyone be happy. People were educated, its true, a lot of people with higher education. Does it mean anything when the end result is still getting beaten by your hisband even though you know other languages and teach in school? All the advice i have ever heard from an older generation is that life is shit but you can get better opportunities by having a better education which doesnt even work rn

Sorry lmao im just deeply jealous i guess. I wish the soviet union havent left such deep scars on all of us, i wish we had a better relationship with food than whatever generational trauma we all get cause of holodomor, i wish all elderly people i met weren’t deeplt paranoid and distrusting because they lived in the world where any odd word to your neighbour could lend you in trouble

Idk i may be cause im in UK rn and people here have the luxury of living in one city in generations but it feels so different. Like i went to a drawing club and there were retired people who were legitimately happy and active now that they have free time and excited for whats to come. Their life doenst end when they dont work anymore. Insane actually never seen before i cant believe you bitches live like this and know your family lines. I know barely a couple of generations cause they were all displaced in some points of their lives so i have no idea where they’re from

[mycomori]

seen my classmate and friend from high school art room and she’s doing so fucjing good and thriving and i could cry how happy i am for her but then i just compare myself and i’m like ahahahha ina fuckjng JOKE im a joke off a joke, im proof poor people show led ever be allows fo education, there’s reason i couldn’t afford to go to unindesoute all my har d work and ore t grades. i hate such a fucking api and anguish inside me and i can’t fucning get it out. i’m happy for my classmates that made it and are happy line seriously in so fucking happy they made it but i can’t help b it wish i could even remotely do the same. still all i am is a pathetic mentally i’ll traumatized mess of a bitch who everyone surprised survived and all o can post us my shitty fanart sketches and even shittier fic writing. and i can’t help but hate myself because relaly w hat am i? anymore? what wa si ever? i was so fucked uo even on the safety of that art room. it’s he only placebo cludk safely sleep. i don’t know anymore but i’m not enough. all i know is i am not and will never be enlugh. but that’s okay ya innit it’s OKAY cause i don’t care j can’t care if i want to live i’ll get rink beyond beleive then top it off w weed then sleeo and maybe get uo tomorrow to work hur i relaly dotn wanna but if i do that i would he fucjibgbother people over b it if in not i’ll have to explain myself and assaaaaaaaaa yeah it’s too late for me to text him sayin i won’t be in it would be a dick move now but i can’t do it no i can’t fucjing do it kow i cang dos

[batfaced]

good morning nellis nation

[sofarsogoodsowhat]

buncha shit from my picsart folder + one of my dumbest and most important tattoos

[transvoljin]

varrosh but they're both trans call that t4t (tyrant4tyrant)

[castiels-pussy]

deancas amv to kings of leon knocked up

[itonje]

whatever man i wasnt meant to study history or language or or literally anything else all i can do is media analysis and im not even fucking good at that

[uniquevocashark]

A Good Servant

Part 1 of ?

Summary: You would do anything to keep her happy: be it keeping her pet healthy, running her house or making her wine. Everything but for what you both want.

Some content warnings for this part: there's heavily referenced sex/sexual activity, pet play (not with the reader, this is an angsty prologue fic), brief mention of adultery, casual contemplation of murder, brief mention of whipping and a joke made about catholics. If I missed anything that you think should be tagged, dm me and I'll add it.

--

You start down the hallway before you can stop to think, holding the tray aloft in one hand. It's very easy to hear the strangled sounds of Lady Dimitrescu's most recent pet, some twenty something woman from the village, which only makes your job that much harder.

As you had been here for quite some time, you knew one of the most taboo acts was to interrupt her during 'training'. As you got closer you could hear her voice clear as day, offering soothing encouragements before the snap of a crop reached your ears.

You stop just before the door, wondering briefly if she'd use it on you for interrupting. But you couldn't send the heads of the other families away, so you steal yourself, rebalanced the tray and knock thrice.

There's a shuffle and her pet screams louder than before, followed by a half slurred string of begging and moans.

You purse your lips. You knock again, thrice, harder this time. You finally hear the Lady curse, some Romanian word you can't quite grasp yet, followed by quick shushing of her pet. You hold the tray carefully and take a precautionary step back.

She slams the door open and you catch a fleeting look at her black silk underwear before you shift your gaze into the room. Her pet, whose name you don't know and dotn care to learn, sits uncomfortably on the floor beside her masters bed.

"What is it?" Lady Dimitrescu snarls down at you, and you look up at the filigree decorating the wall beside her head.

"The Heisenbergs and Moreau are here to see you, Madame. They bear a seal from Mother Miranda." You handover the letter one of them gave you and fill her glass while she reads it.

You drop a bit of her special wine into it and hand it over. She eyes you carefully, taking a lemon slice. "Help me dress." She says and walks back into her room.

The hallway beckons but you follow her in anyway. She won't kill you, not while Mother Miranda has need of you, but you know she forgets how fragile people are sometimes. Her pet is a keen example; she clearly hasn't slept much due to her servicing, she's bruised all over and the way her lips wobble stirs some momentary pity in you.

Unfortunately for her, any stronger feelings have long since been cut away and seeing her in such a state only brings up questions of how you can improve. Still, you try to put on some faux sympathy for her.

You fill the smaller glass and hand it to her pet with a small platter of apple slices. When you look over to Lady Dimitrescu her brows are raised.

"She hasn't eaten for two days, Madame." You say instead of explaining. It had been one of the cooks ideas, someone that knew her.

Clearly, Lady Dimitrescu didn't realise that, "Of course," she replies crisply, her tone too sharp, "You may eat, pet."

Without waiting, you walk over to her closet to pick a dress. They are the same style and differ in their colour scheme; three are the same shade of light cream, twelve are pure white and three more are tinged grey. You pick out a light cream one with matching undergarments when she calls you over.

You've been working for her a long time, excess of seven years, so you know how she prefers to be dressed after stringent activity. You slip her bra on and her underwear. Slowly, you put her stockings on, as to not rip the expensive fabric, and clip them to her garter belt.

Lady Dimitrescu choses which garter she wears each day rather than have you or her personal amod do so, today it is the one that tangles easily. Its notorious among the staff for how difficult it is to put on. You know your way around it, though, fastening it quickly about her hips and thighs. "Have you put any thought into what I asked earlier, Madame?"

Lady Dimitrescu scoffs, sipping her water, "I have a personal maid." She jerks her chin to her pet, who has been munching as quietly as possible on the apple slices.

"Yes," you say lightly, helping her step through into her dress, "I merely doubt she will have time to deal with any duties other than those of a pet."

She eyes you dangerously and sets her cup down. You ignore the passive aggressive ploy to retrieve the step ladder in the closet. You flick it open and climb it as you pull her dress up, admiring the muscles of her back when she flexes subtly, then guide her arms into the sleeves.

"Who do you recommend, my gracious head of staff?" She croons when you work your way up the buttons of her dress.

You overexargerate your sigh at her playful tone. You catch her smile in the mirror and go back to buttoning. It is much harder to accept some days that this cannot last forever.

"Jessica is a cheery and dedicated worker with a strong back for lashings should she ever disappoint," her pet looks at you with mild horror that you file away and you try to strain your voice a little more towards reluctance, "Mihaela may suit your temper better, she has a quiet nature, has little care for material things and does her best to avoid punishment." That and her aggressive asides about the Lady would stop if she wanted to live.

Lady Dimitrescu moves over to her vanity, and you follow, grabbing the scissors attached to your chatelain and three roses from the vase on her desk. "Who else?" She asks, flicking the cap off her lipstick.

"Louise may suit as well," You say as you clip the stalks, "but Miss Daniela has taken a fancy to her. It would not be the wisest choice. There is also Rachel but she is pregnant with the gardeners child."

"Leave it to humans to rut like base animals on my property," she taps her lips thoughtfully,  "Wasn't Rachel married?"

"She is, Madame."

"Do you remember to whom?"

You pause in your arranging of the flowers on her breast and she catches your eye with a smile that burns you, "It was to the southern most butcher. One of the Bradleys, I believe."

She clicks her tongue, breaking eye contact, and you move to brush her silky hair out before she repins it. "Tell Heisenbergs retainer to have her husband brought here. It may be time to cull that wretched family," she paused, sipping again at her water, "Also, Mihaela will do, inform her after the meeting."

"Of course, Madame." You set the brush down, and grab her powder, dusting it onto her cheeks as she fixes the curls back into her hair. She is most beautiful like this, when her face turns delicately pensive and she stills almost completely. You almost wonder what it would be like, with her, and have to take an extra second to cool your heating face.

When she turns to you, with that deliberate, unabashed affection stealing the faux indifference from her face, it makes your heart quake in a way you haven't felt before. You have to look away before you both do something stupid. Deliberately, you plant your hand on her shoulder to keep her at a distance and stare intently at her ear as you put her earrings on.

Her pet has come to sit at your feet, Lady Dimitrescu running her fingers through her hair and you vaguely wonder what it would be like. What if you were there instead and what if this and that and everything else you could want but can't have. Neither of you will cross Mother Miranda.

Her pet gives you the dishes, the glass and plate empty. You move away from them, so that you're not tempting anything again and refill the glass.

"Shall I also have inquiries made about a new gardener, madame?" You ask as you hand the glass back, then move to gather together a suitable outfit for her pet.

The softness is gone from her face and you tell yourself you're glad of it. "Yes, someone more appropriate."

"Not a Catholic then?" You ask innocently. She chuckles warmly and you go about dressing her pet with a little smile. "And would you prefer the current one be brought to your daughters or sent straight to the cellar?"

She regards you seriously in the mirror, and you stare back into her golden eyes before returning to fixing the bow on the back of her pets dress, "Bring him to me when I'm next available."

You usher her pet back to her seat, putting the cups back on the tray, "That would be after dinner for today, or at three tomorrow evening."

"After dinner will be fine." She replies, eating the rest of her lemon. She hands you the skin, her fingers brushing yours deliberately, and you take longer than needed to deposit it on the plate.

"The families are gathered in the dining hall, Madame. I had the kitchen staff prepare a light brunch."

"Tell them I'll be there momentarily."

"As you say, my Lady." You curtsy as you leave. You make a note to have Rachel serve dinner and to watch the Lady's pet while she's busy. You may even go so far as to ask the cook to make a broth; this pet seems to make her happy and you are determined that her pet remains able to do so.

It's all you can do, after all.

Hey, little note:

This is a multi chapter fic with a planned unhappy ending because Courtly Love Trope doesn't usually end well. There will also be references to Resident Evil lore from previous games. Do I care if its accurate? No, not at all. Resi purists beware this fic. And thanks for reading!

[thelaughingmerman]

I dotn watch markiplier or care about fnaf but "was that the bite of 87??!" Jokes kill me

[ccorymonteithh]

We match on timber