#and that light switch looks gross I need to clean it

[thaliasandy]

My outfit of the day ☺️

Also, my new leather jacket (fake leather aka plastic 😅 of course bc I'm a vegetarian) was delivered today...Not sure if I like it or not...

#selfie #outfit of the day #ootd #plus size #curvy #fatshion #snag tights #shein #i know its bad but I'm fat poor and feom germany #we dont have many plus size stores #also I buy a light for this room it used to be my nephews room until a few weeks ago when he moved out and he took the light with him lol #and that light switch looks gross I need to clean it

[angelzai]

This was coming and I'm sorry about it but-

I need some brain rot on Akutagawa so I wanted to ask if you could do the nsfw alphabet for him as well, please? you can also do just a few letters if you can't manage the whole thing <3

nsfw alphabet - ryuunosuke akutagawa . . . .ᐟ

wc: 2.7k

cw: switch leaning dom!aku, rough aku, gn!reader, spanking, cum eating, creampie, clothed sex, edging, brat taming, dirty talk, nicknames (angel, doll, darling, ryuu), light bondage/choking/impact play, marking, toys, mention of face fucking, inappropriate use of rashomon lol

reid: my lovely niko im so sorry about the wait! i wanted to do the whole thing for u ehehehe i hope you enjoy

. . . .ᐟ

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

soft sweetie

he’s not super intuitive when it comes to reading what you need, but he’ll ask

tell him, he’s on it

very apologetic if he was rough - he’s got his own little awkward way of being sweet and coming back down to earth with you

“you alright, angel? do you need anything? ‘m sorry if i got a little carried away. you were perfect for me, okay?”

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ASS MAN

adores your ass <3

loves the way his fingers sink into the plush of your asscheeks. loves the jiggle whether it's big or small. loves holding you by your ass even nonsexually. it's just so grabbable, so smackable

he likes his own hands - let him finger you from behind so he can spank and admire your ass while he makes you cum

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he thinks his cum is a nuisance

he’s nervous to cum in you, feels guilty cumming on you, kind of hates the feeling of cumming in his hand - it’s just something to clean up after, he’s indifferent to it.

your cum, however

he wants to drown in it.

your cum is the hottest thing ever to him. squirt on his stomach while he fucks you. make a mess on his fingers. cream on his tongue. he’ll lap it up like it’s nectar.

reassure him what you’re comfortable with when it comes to his - you insist you want him to cum on your face? well, okay, he’s gotta admit you look so pretty on your knees with your tongue lolled out and your lashes fluttering. anywhere else on you? are you sure? he doesn’t want you to feel gross. in you??? god, don’t even make him think about it - i think he’s partially afraid that he’ll find it so sexy and it’ll feel so good to fill you up that he’ll never want to stop. he can’t let you make him any weaker than you already have.

have a firm discussion about that shit and lock those legs around his waist in missionary. he’s a changed man after

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he's very conscious of his body and will probably prefer to have sex with clothes on a lot of the time

not that he doesn't want to see your body - he absolutely does - he just doesn't want to make you feel awkward by insisting you be fully naked while he keeps his shirt on

you might be able to draw this out of him, but don't count on it; he'll probably write it off as a kink thing

(worship his body until he loves it as much as you do, please)

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

V I R G I N

i know, i know. again. i know.

but listen. he just doesn’t really have time to focus on this kind of stuff! not that it never crosses his mind, but until he meets you it’s just something he doesn’t spare a passing glance at

he’s certainly had opportunities among the cohort of the mafia, but he’s just. . .not interested in other people

he’s interested in you, though <3

he gets off very quickly when you first start going at it - he’ll happily build up his restraint though (tie his hands behind his back and edge him til he cums untouched <3), especially if it means making you feel good

takes some practice and instruction, but everything you tell him gets burned into his mind. he can make you fall apart in minutes after a few weeks of getting to know your body

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary or doggy - he can’t pick because they’re both so different and have their own perks

missionary? he can palm your chest, hold your cheeks, bite your collarbones, kiss your lips, and watch the way your face grows more and more fucked out with each thrust

doggy? he can grip your ass, pin your arms behind your back, pull you up by your hair, trace the expanse of your back, and reach so deep in you

probably doggy, actually - he loves watching your ass jiggle while he's blowing your back out <3

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

not goofy, but sassy.

he's serious about it too - can you say brat tamer?

prefers you to alleviate the tension so he can run with his power dynamic <3 mouth off to him a little! make jokes! it makes it easier for him to put you back in your place and believe me, he enjoys doing it

“what was that? think you’re funny? we’ll see how funny you think you are when you can’t walk tomorrow.”

“try to talk back with cock in your mouth.”

“crying now? this is what you asked me for, angel.”

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

coarse black hair that he prefers to remove entirely, even if he’s not sexually active

it’s just a distraction/buffer from watching how deliciously he slides in and out of you

he’d wouldn’t ask you to remove yours if you really didn’t want to - i think he prefers a little hair on his partner anyway - but he likes how it looks and feels on him

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he’s a little unpracticed in romance and he loses himself easily - he can be rather rough and selfish when he’s chasing his own pleasure

when he slows himself down and puts his focus solely on your pleasure, however, it seems to come so easily to him that you wouldn’t think he’s all that inexperienced

he does call you by your name a lot during sex, along with a few nicknames <3 his favorites are angel, darling, and doll

goes out of his way every once in a while to set the mood super right just because it’s something he enjoys and feels like he should do for you. the whole shebang with candles and silk sheets! maybe some aphrodisiac chocolates or a surprise involving something you’ve mentioned wanting to try in the bedroom - when he pays attention you’ll feel like the luckiest partner in the world

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

doesn’t do it much - refer to the top of letter c.

when he does, though -

and okay, okay maybe this is my bias showing -

but i think we have another pillow humper here. . .

just THINK with me for a second about how pretty a sight it would be to walk in on him - he’s not usually so pent up that he can’t wait for you, but maybe you’ve been gone a few days on an assignment. you arrive back in yokohama early, but you don’t even check your phone because you’re exhausted; you just walk through the door of your apartment to hear heavy breathing and shuffling from your room

so you fumble to your bedroom doorframe. . .just to find aku on his knees, straddling your bunched up pillow

his button-up hangs open and you can see his stomach flex as he rides the pillow furiously, his dick leaking through his boxers - you catch a glimpse of his pretty, uninhibited face as he breathes your name into a moan

before he sees you and scrambles beneath a blanket, of course

all you can do is giggle and make your way over to him - sure, you’re tired, but you’ve kept your boy waiting so long! the least you can do is help him get off since he’s obviously so desperate for you, right?

“aww, ryuu, couldn’t wait for me? no, no, keep going, show me how you’d get off on my lap.”

you’ll get it for teasing him, but it’s worth it <3

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

bondage!!!

impact play!!!

marking!!!

rashomon’s a big help here - you don’t need rope, and tying is easy!

tie him up, let him tie you up - he’s a fan of either - he could be a rigger or a rope bunny depending on both of your moods.

he’s not opposed to rope, though - the work and the sensuality that goes into it is often more rewarding. plus, he just thinks you look wonderful with a silk rope harness around your chest <3

when you’re not tied, don’t be afraid to smack him around a little. bite him, slap him, choke him, scratch him up. he’s tough, he can take it, and he won’t mind doing it back if you’re into it, too.

he’s a quiet guy, but he likes sound! the wet pap, pap, pap! of your skin against his while he fucks you is just heavenly to him

bigggggg big fan of spanking you as punishment <3 be bratty, get spanked

(he’ll always take care of your after)

(plus, he swears the marks you leave on him are darker, harsher, and last longer after he punishes you - just how he wants them <3)

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

at home, in bed. he’s a simple guy

optimal for privacy, optimal for intimacy, optimal for snoozing or cooking a meal after <3

(i think he also just enjoys being domestic with you. having sex in your home, cooking in your kitchen after, sleeping in your bed. . .)

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

seeing you in any position of authority

it’s odd because he prefers to be dominant. maybe it’s the thought of putting you in your place, or being the only one to have you at his mercy. he’s not sure but either way, he likes seeing his partner in charge and maybe a little frustrated or bossy <3

you’re heading a report? giving an assignment to your squad during a meeting? in charge of any sort of coordination? you’re getting fucked after. he can’t help himself - you’re so hot and you’re all his.

say his full first name. he knows it’s a mouthful, no pun intended, and he loves when you call him ryuu, don’t get me wrong. it makes him feel cared for a close to you, it’s so important to him

but when he’s in you, fuck - call him ryuunosuke and beg him for it harder. i promise you he’s trying not to cum right then and there

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

public sex

i think you could work him up to an empty-office, locked-door quickie but it’s absolutely not his favorite methodology and he won’t go any riskier than that

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

loves loves loves giving. there’s nothing he can find that he doesn’t like about it

in fact, it relaxes him

loves how you taste, loves how you sound, loves how you smell, loves fingering you and rubbing you while he does it to draw pretty whines out of you - it’s almost like stress relief for him

far from polite when receiving - he’s a face fucker, sorry y’all

he’ll always reward you handsomely after he uses your throat, promise <3

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

pretty rough, to be honest. it’s his nature - he’s done very few things in his life without violence and aggression, and he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t like the control it gives him.

he can certainly be gentle with you after you show him the ropes - otherwise, this is all he really knows

gentle or rough, he fucks fast. he comes to really love the lewd noises your bodies emit together that way <3

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

only at home, really. he’s not a fan of fucking where he could get caught

if you so please, he will split you open against your apartment door before you both leave for work

can’t deny how much he loves watching you disheveled, tucking your shirt back in, as you catch your breath before you lean up to kiss him and say you’ll see him later for more <3

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

not super down to get caught or be watched. he’s much more inclined to remind you you’re his in a place where you won’t be distracted by anything or anyone else

he’ll experiment kink-wise, especially with his existing kinks - if you let him use rashomon to bind your wrists, he only wants to see how much further you’ll let him take it from there <3

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

our chronically ill king, only one or two for him

his stamina isn’t great. but!!!

he can alternate between fingering you and eating you out for hours <3 and he often will

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

edge him with a cock ring on

just do it.

he’s impatient but he can’t deny how intense his orgasms are after you do this to him <3 he’ll bitch and whine and cry through it but he secretly loves it

will surely use toys on you if you’d like him to - i can’t see him owning anything other than maybe a plug or dildo he’s experimented with before (that’s a whole post of its own), so introduce him to whatever you’d like

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

loves teasing, hates being teased.

he can dish it but he can’t take it. gets agitated and impatient when you’re dangling yourself in front of him and he can’t have you right away, but he’s nowhere near above flustering you in public, grazing his hands over your ass after you hug him, or tracing your jaw with a wandering finger for minutes at a time while he looks at you with bedroom eyes

he adores you when you’re worked up and unable to keep your hands off of him - aww, you want him? he won’t say this but it’s super cool ‘cause he loves feeling wanted. <3

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s quiet on instinct - lots of silent screams and heaving breaths out of this one

only really moans when he’s ready to cum - this is part of the reason why edging him is so fun, because you can draw out sounds you’ve never heard from him before <3

whisper-mumbles to you through his climax

“fuck, that’s so good! s- so good, doll, thank you! fuck fuck fuck don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop i love you. . .!”

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

on the topic of clothed sex - sometimes grinding through clothes is even hotter to him than penetration <3 there’s just something about how desperate it feels. . .

plop yourself on his lap to make out and grind on him desperately until you’re both cumming through your pants <3 nghhhh

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

kind of hung and he doesn’t even realize it

girthy and almost 7 inches

two pretty veins that split off from each other on the underside <3

i think he curves up a little and gets a bit thinner at the tip

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

low to average - he doesn’t think about it all the time, and it mostly comes to his attention when you bring it up

regardless, he’s unlikely to turn you down even if he wasn’t particularly thinking of it at the moment. just because it isn’t consuming him doesn’t mean he’ll pass up an opportunity to be buried in you <3

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

sleepy demon boy

he can bounce back from a blowjob, but after fucking you? whew now he calling me nyquil or whatever nicki minaj said

within minutes, baby

hold him and kiss him while he dozes off <3 he'll mumble and grumble about how much he loves you until he's out

#akutagawa x reader #akutagawa ryunosuke x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #akutagawa smut #akutagawa headcanons #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs smut #angelzai original.ᐟ #devilzai hours.ᐟ #reid’s angels.ᐟ #tehe this was fun i need to write for him more

[wheatnoodle]

part 3 :)

read part one and two

—

july 13th, 1989. it was on a pure gut feeling alone that max was biking to loch nora at just gone 9:30pm.

steve had dropped dustin off earlier at the arcade, around three in the afternoon, but an hour in, walkied to let him know mrs. byers would be driving him home. dustin whined and complained into the receiver, only to get short, tired answers from the older teen, and shortly after that, silence. he switched it off.

he’d been doing that quite a bit lately. shutting off. shutting up. shutting down. he’s putting space between himself and the rest of the world. but this time felt…different. it felt wrong, even. and so, max’s scores dropped. she lost at pac-man four times. and she’s barely got even thirty tickets.

she can’t focus. even as she skates home, her brain is heavy with concern for her friend. for her brother. she pushes her food around on her plate at dinner, stares blankly at the table while her mom- while susan cracks open another beer. her homework stays in her backpack and she lays on her back on her bed, searching for advice in the ceiling.

and so she waits until 9:15 rolls around and she hears susan crash on the couch. then max is up and toeing on her shoes, stepping out of her room. she grabs her bag, shoves in two cans of chicken noodle soup, and sneaks out the front door.

she really shouldn’t be riding her bike when it’s this dark out, her glasses only helping in the daylight. but she pushes forward anyways. she has to. she makes it to his house in no time and parks her bike next to the front door.

unlike dustin, max rings the doorbell. few seconds later and the door cracks open about a foot. god, he looks…awful.

“hey, kid. um…’m sorry, but now’s not a good time,” steve slurs as he speaks, runs an uncoordinated hand through his hair that’s so messy it looks like he’s been yanking it all night. her eyes focus in on the red splotches in his cheeks, tear tracks illuminated by the porch light. his eyes are red rimmed and puffy, making them even bigger, even browner. the neck is stretched out in his shirt, the scar across his throat an angry red with scratches up and down his skin. sweatpants slipping just slightly down his hips and showing off more scarring.

“actually, it seems like now is the right time,” max says softly and nudges her way inside. there’s empty beer cans on the floor, couch pillows and throw blankets strewn everywhere.

“sorry ‘bout the…y’know. the mess,” he mumbled and gestures vaguely to the living room. she turns to face him, takes in how exhausted he seems, how he curls in on himself.

her backpack hits the ground and max walks forward, throwing her arms around his neck and holding on as tight as she can. it takes a few seconds before he hugs her back, burying his face in the top of her head. she’s not even the slightest bit grossed out as she feels fresh tears in her hair. her heart clenches.

“I brought soup,” she says into his shoulder. it gets a weak laugh into her hair and she pulls back with a little smile. “i’m gonna go make that, ‘cause i didn’t eat and i don’t think you have either. i think you should come sit at the table while i make it because quite frankly, i don’t trust you to not fall down your basement stairs.”

he nods a bit, cringing at the pain in his head. “fair enough.”

she’s made dinner and cleaned up for her drunk mom plenty of times, it’s like second nature. but this time, it doesn’t feel like a chore. like something she has to do. she wants to do it. she wants to take care of him. she’s helping. he needs a friend, and she is here. just like he always is for her.

it’s silent while they eat. comfortable silence. and soon enough he’s sipping on a hot tea and she’s doing her homework across from him.

“did i ever tell you about the russians?”

she looks up when he breaks the quiet. his voice is scratchy, dry from all his tears. “hm?” she hums, pushes him to elaborate.

“the russians. at starcourt,” steve says casually, like he’s talking about the weather. it happens so often, it might as well be. she puts her pencil down.

“no. do you want to?” max asks. her full attention is back on him. the bags under his eyes are so dark.

“yeah. it’s heavy shit though, so you don’t have to hear it if you don’t want to.” it blows her mind that even in such a state, he offers her an out. he lets her know that he puts her above him.

“tell me about it.” she’s sure in her words. she’s grown too quickly. wise beyond her years. it breaks his heart.

“you know the mall was just a front for the russians and their gate to the upside down. i won’t bore you with how we got there, but we ended up in their like…lab, bunker thing? in like…the basement?” his brows are scrunched and he’s staring straight into his mug, playing with the teabag string. “and…and they saw us. me, robin, dustin, erica. god, i can’t believe i got those two involved-“

“you wouldn’t have been able to stop them if you tried. you know that,” max interrupts him. she knows how stubborn those two are. she also knows how undeniably loyal they are as well.

“yeah…yeah, i know. but…anyways, they saw us. and we’re getting chased by russian soldiers through this underground lab and i’m dressed like a fucking sailor with nothing but an ice cream scoop in my pocket.” max snorts at the memory of his old uniform. (though of course she can’t help but miss the shorts.) “yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry. go on.”

“okay. so they’re chasing us, and we make it through this door. we get is shut and luckily, there’s this like hatch in the floor. and robin and i are using our whole body weight to hold this door closed. they’re pounding on the other side and it’s so loud. i’m yelling at the kids to go down that fuckin’ hatch. dustin just stops. looks like he’s gonna try and stay back. if i could kick him down that hole, i would.

“finally, the kid goes down and it’s at just the right time because they open the door. i don’t know what they did to robin, yelled at them not to hurt her, but they grabbed me and i’m being…dragged to this room. at some point they get cuffs on my wrists and the bench in this room is metal and it’s so, so cold. and they shut the door. big, heavy fuckin’ door. there’s two dudes there.” he pauses, shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“steve…you don’t need to it it’s too much to think about,” max says, reaches her leg across and kicks his shin. he looks like he’s been going back to that room tonight.

“no, ‘s fine. gotta at some point,” he shrugs. “anyways, they start asking all these questions. they start with like, how did you get down here? what do you know? how did you find us? and…and i keep telling them that it was a mistake, that like…our shipment didn’t come or some shit and we went to look for it. said the elevator fell. that wasn’t good enough. they didn’t believe me. and the other guy who’s standing there, he just starts…he’s…he’s just fuckin’…wailin’ on me.”

she watches with sad eyes as he mimics getting punched in the face, his own fist lightly connecting with his jaw.

“no matter what i said. and he’s…he’s asking me who i work for. i tell him the truth, tell him i work at scoops. fuckin’ ice cream, dude. might as well have been telling him the best joke he’s ever heard. the other one just keeps punching me. i can’t hear them anymore. i don’t remember when that happened, but suddenly my ears were just ringing and my eyes were so blurry, all i can see is my own blood. it’s all i can taste.”

his hands are trembling as he scrambles in his pockets for his pack of newports and a black bic lighter. when he can’t get it to light, she reaches across and takes the lighter, flicking the flame and holding it steady. he nods his thanks.

he pulls in deep, holding it in his lungs until it burns. “dude, i’m fuckin’ begging them at this point to just kill me. i can feel the bones in my face just like, breaking every time he punches me. at some point, i pass out. finally, y’know? in the back of my mind, i’m hoping i’m dead. and then i wake up! tied to a chair! and to make things worse, robin hasn’t gotten away because she’s tied to my back. and after i get the life beaten out of me, at some point she reminds me what an asshole i was. which sucked, i was already hurting. then they gave me the ol’ mad max.”

“the what?”

“needle in the neck with some random drug.” a hand covers her mouth. she can feels tears in her eyes that she tries to blink away.

“holy shit…who- who knows about this?” max’s voice shakes as she speaks. she wants to reach out, run her fingertips over the barely there scars. she pulls the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands instead (it’s two sizes two big since it’s technically not her’s but it’s been a hard night and he’s dead, so he can’t tell her not to take it anyways).

“hm…robin, dustin, erica…now you too,” he says, staring off into the distance. she can’t get him to meet her gaze. “every time i close my eyes, i’m back there. i can’t fall asleep without dreaming of being there, or being…eaten…by fucking bats in another dimension.”

“i get that. every day i see that…thing killing him. i see vecna…taking his image and using it to hurt me. i’m hoping the memories from in the creel house don’t come back though,” max mumbles. steve passes her a napkin and she realizes she didn’t do as good a job holding her tears in as she thought.

“i hope you don’t remember it either,” he agrees. “i hate it here.”

“where? this house, hawkins, or life?”

“all of the above?”

“fair.” she nods, takes a sip of her neglected water. “would you leave?”

he doesn’t say anything. just takes a drag from his cigarette and taps off the ash in an empty cup. a look takes over his face. like he’s searching for the right words to avoid hurting her.

“yeah. in a heartbeat.”

she can’t be mad at him. she gets it. she loves the family she’s made in hawkins, but if she had the choice, they never would have moved here. “have you been looking at places? like…outside of here?”

“i…” he sighs. he knows he can’t lie, not to max. “i was lookin’ at this little place out west. it’s all the way out in california.”

max smiles then. bright and crinkling her eyes. “you would love it there.”

“yeah?” he chuckles weakly, clears his throat of the smoke.

“yeah. the sun and the water. you can be a stupid volleyball jock.” that one gets a real laugh out of him, one that’s got him slapping a hand over his mouth and her snorting at him. “but really. if it feels right, like leaving here will…will make life even just a little bit easier, do it. we’ll be okay. you have saved us so many times, it’s time you save you too.”

“max…”

“steve. it’s over. you can take a break from fighting for your life.” she watches as it all seems to click into place. something in his eyes changes and she knows he’s made his decision.

he writes down the address in her math notebook. tells her that if she’s more than welcome any time.

“i don’t know what to do about eddie,” he mumbles with a heavy sigh, his shoulders deflating.

her brows pull together and she looks at him in pure confusion. “what about him?”

“just…i dunno…” he says into his tea mug. she takes a second to look at him, squints as she thinks things through. and then she’s nodding.

“personally, i think eddie will wait until you’re ready. nothin’ wrong with needing to focus on yourself for a bit. besides, you can’t get into a special friendship with a special friend if you’re just gonna drag them down because you haven’t given yourself the time you need to heal from the shit the world dealt you.” max leans back in her chair, sips more of her water.

it’s steve’s turn to squint at her, glancing at her with faux disgust. “since when did it become you giving me advice? supposed to be the other way around.”

she smirks cockily, crosses her arms over her chest. “what can i say, i’m like, really good at it.”

—

they’ve gathered in eddie’s government present mobile home, everyone far too cramped together but nobody uncomfortable. dustin thought it felt like safe ground to break the news to everyone.

they’re sitting around, staring up at robin who’s standing in the middle of the room as she explains the events of the past few days. how steve had acted at the bonfire, to him no call no showing a shift and not answering keith’s calls, all the way to dustin letting himself in to the harrington household.

“…everything was just…gone. it was like he…like he never even…existed,” she chokes on her words, tears overflowing her large eyes. there’s a collective gasp amongst the group. nobody knows what to say.

max leans back on the couch, out of most people peripheral. there’s a soft smile tugging at her lips. proud and in disbelief. he really did it. he chose himself for once.

she looks over to eddie, sitting on the other end of the couch and separated by lucas on the middle cushion. his eyes are wide, every single emotion running through his face until it settles on one.

realization.

slips into another.

desperation.

he will be there when steve is ready.

—

taggie waggies:

@wonderland-girl143-blog @callme-keys @biatcgh @kgne-k @hagbaby420 @24-7shipping @coolestjoy30 @emly03 @v3lnys @sirbackpains @imzadidragonfly @definitely-not-cereal-og @alienace @starlight-archer

#stranger things #steve harrington #max mayfield #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #stranger things fanfiction #fic wip #part 3 #steddie #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic

[yourlocalmerchgirl]

Period Pains

Robbie Reyes x f!reader one shot

Summary: Robbie comes home to find you curled up intense cramps and wastes no time taking care of you.

Warnings: soft Robbie concerned Robbie protective Robbie, mentions of blood and pain. Hurt/ comfort theme

Despite having the spirit of vengeance living inside of him, when it came to you, Robbie was the biggest softy. You were his everything, his comfort after late nights working for the rider, his light when he couldn’t see past the darkness. He couldn’t believe a girl like you would be interested in a guy like him, a mechanic by day and a demon that drags the souls of the damned down to hell by night. Robbie thought for sure the night you realized he was the Ghost Rider that it would be over but your love for him never wavered and you’ve done nothing but firmly stand by his side never giving up on him.

So when Robbie returns home to some of the lights on but no sign of you, he begins to panic a little bit. It wasn’t unlike you to fall asleep trying to wait up for him to come home, something he found cute even though he wouldn’t admit it. He becomes a little more frantic calling for you when he makes his way s to your shared bedroom to see blood on the bed sheets and the faint glow of the bathroom light from under the door.

“Cariño, are you in there? Are you ok?”

So help me god if anyone hurt her Robbie, I’ll burn the city down to find them.

“Ro-Robbie please don’t look at the bed, I-I need to clean it” you managed to whine out between strangled sobs.

“You’re scaring me Cariño, can I open the door?”

“Y-yes” you squeaked out, voice horse and barely above a whisper.

Robbie slowly opens the door to find you curled up on the bathroom floor, sobbing and covering your face in embarrassment.

Robbie’s features soften as soon as he sees you. Kneeling down next you to he tenderly messages your leg.

“Baby look at me”

You finally pull your head up revealing your puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“Oh Cariño what’s wrong?”

“I-l wasn’t feeling fell so I went to bed, I woke up doubled over in pain with the most intense cramps I’ve had in a long time.” Tears start streaming down your face again as your trying to get your words out. Letting out a ragged breath you continue. “I unexpectedly started my period and it’s really heavy and I got blood all over your sheecheats.”

“Baby it’s ok” Robbie says as he reaches up to wipe the tears from your cheek,his voice as soft as velvet.

“There’s no need to worry, these things happen, I’m not mad or grossed out”

You lean onto into his warm touch as he cups your face.

“Let’s get you in the shower, that might make you feel better huh?”

You nod your head, relishing in the way his warm skin soothes your face as you do.

Robbie steadies you as he helps you stand. Slowly and tenderly he helps you out of your clothes and then rids himself of his as he starts the water. Robbie climbs in the shower then grabs your hand helping you in as well. There’s so much vulnerability and love in this moment, Robbie is so focused on taking care of you, never turning the moment into anything sexual. He switches places with you, watching as you visibly relax as the water streams down your back. Tilting your head back Robbie helps get your hair completely wet before for lathering some shampoo in his hands before working it through your hair messaging your scalp as he does. You rest your forehead on Robbie’s shoulder as he rinses the shampoo out of your hair.

Then Robbie grabs your loofa lathering it up with you favorite soap and gently rubs it over your body until he’s washed every inch of you, going over a couple places twice when you let out a giggle the first time around.

“Stay here I’ll be right back” Robbie says as he slips into the bedroom once the two of you are dried off.

A few moments later Robbie returns with clothes for you, helping you into your comfy clothes and period underwear.

“Ok now by the time your done drying your hair I’ll have the bed all taken care of.”

“Rooobbie no…”

“Shhhh Cariño” Robbie says kissing your forehead.

“Just let me finish taking care of you, you don’t need anything thing else to worry about”

“Thank you Robbie” you breath out barely above a whisper, taken a back by the love and care Robbie is giving you.

When you climb into bed, Robbie snuggles right up to you placing his large hand on your abdomen, rubbing in soothing circles his forehead resting against the side of your head.

“I love you, Robbie”

“I love you too”

Taglist:

@kalllistos @spikershoyo @alongfortheridereader @svittok2 @huskyfox5 @princessmk21

#robbie reyes x f!reader #fanfic #robbie reyes x reader #robbie reyes #hurt/comfort #gabriel luna #ghost rider

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Direct eye contact? 👀

Very random, but I can imagine dabi as the type to get all embarrassed and look away or hide his face. Especially when he’s all dressed up.

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK yes | Oh god you don’t even know |

This one was a sleeper hit

It's humiliating in all the right ways to be laid out on his back, his wrists held to the headboard with quirk dampening cuffs as Tomura holds the thin, lacy nightie up around his hips, his panties just pulled to the side so that he can fuck into him as he calls him,

"My little girl has such a pretty flush on her cheeks." Absolutely humiliating that he's hotter than he thinks he's ever been before as he moans and tries so hard to move back into the hard, rough thrusts that he's getting. But he's pinned so completely under his lover and he can't really focus on anything other than how good he feels. The pleasure has somehow spiked even higher through him now that he's not constantly worrying about his quirk slipping out of control and setting their sheets on fire. He tries to hide his face against his arm, not wanting Duster to see how hot, how lost, he is. He will never live down how good this feels, how much he likes it when he gave the other man so much shit about wanting to dress him up and pretend he was a girl while they fucked. He thought he would be grossed out by it, thought he would have to ask to stop or switch the play because he couldn't get into it, but he's going to cry from how much he likes it now that he's got Tomura's cock buried in his tight-- "Mm, felt how tight your cunt just got. Love having my cock inside of your pussy, don't you baby girl?"

He keens, twisting his face as far away as he can and squeezing his eyes tight to try and choke off the tears, to try and hide how much this is working for him. Dabi's not expecting it when Tomura grabs his chin harshly and twists his face back to him, growling.

"Look at me."

He doesn't want to, but the tone leaves no room for him to argue and he opens his eyes, meets smoldering red ones, with a whimper.

"That's it, princess. I want you to keep looking just like that, right at me as I fuck your hungry cunt full. I want to see those pretty eyes light up as you beg Daddy to cum."

He doesn't end up getting that far. Dabi lets out a loud, embarrassing moan as his balls draw tight and pleasure pulses across his skin as he cums hard inside of his panties, orgasm drawn out with each additional thrust that Tomura pushes into his body. He doesn't know if he's ever had to hold eye contact with someone through his orgasm and there's more of that shaky, embarrassing heat in his gut as he does now, trembling beneath Tomura as his eyes seem to devour him until he's finally spilling against his walls.

Dabi is pretty sure he lays there like a stunned deer for a few minutes, because eventually Tomura starts to pepper soft, lazy kisses across his face, humming softly in the back of his throat.

"Mm, knew you were going to like that. Didn't realize you had such a daddy kink though."

His face flares. "You said it, not me!"

"I said it," he concedes. "But you're the one who came, baby girl. Never seen those pretty eyes so bright. And look what a mess you made in your gift." He clicks his tongue. "What do you say, princess?"

It's so, so much more humiliating when his cock twitches with fresh need as he barely manages to mumble, "I'm sorry, Daddy."

"That's my good girl. It's okay. I'm going to help you clean up your pretty clit."

He pulls out and then starts to pull off Dabi's panties and he realizes that this was just the start of their play and tries to hide his face again. This time he gets a hard swat to his thigh, and whimpers as he forces himself to keep his eyes on his lover as he leans down to lick away some of the cum smeared all over his skin.

#tanco speaks #ask #asks #kink ranking ask #shigadabi #nsft drabble #nsft asks #nsft txt

[theamityelf]

The killing game survivors of Hope's Peak Academy all had their different ways of testing the waters of their new job at the Future Foundation. (Deliberate ones, and ones that just came as a result of who they were as people.) Kyoko tested the waters of being frequently late. Byakuya tested the waters of being frequently insubordinate. Hina ran laps around shared work spaces, Hiro scammed their coworkers, and Toko still wasn't technically a member.

Makoto...okay, he challenged the leadership's patience in a lot of ways, but one example that he genuinely couldn't help was that he was the first of the survivors to have to take a sick day.

And the second.

And the third.

Makoto lay in bed, groaning through a throbbing headache and feeling gross. He hadn't even had it in him to let anyone know he was sick, which just made him feel worse, because it reminded him of another time he hadn't let anyone know he was sick, and he'd almost been executed over it.

(Well, it wasn't like that was really the reason, but he still felt anxious.)

Waking up from his third nap– glancing at the clock, it looked like he was an hour and a half late for work –he heard movement in his suite. That definitely wasn't helping him not think about that one time, but it was probably just Kyoko or Hina or someone, coming to check on him.

It sounded like it was coming from his kitchen. Maybe Hiro, then. He often casually brought up how much money they could make if they sold off some of the Ultimate Hope's used cutlery. Or maybe Hina had peeked in while he was sleeping, seen that he was sick, and decided to bring him something to eat? It did sound like someone was using the stove.

Makoto dozed off again and woke to someone pulling a thermometer out of his mouth.

"101 Fahrenheit," an unexpected voice sighed. "You're usually a tenth of a degree above average, but still..."

"Komaeda?" Makoto said blearily. "What are you doing here?"

"Everyone was wondering where you were, so I took the initiative to come check before anyone more important could be forced to abandon their work," Komaeda said brightly. "I've let your friends know that you're sick. They were somewhat annoyed that you didn't call or email, so I unfortunately had to explain just how out-of-it you were when I arrived, which caused them to realize that you couldn't have gotten up to let me in. I think they're bothered about me picking your locks. Sorry about that. But I made breakfast!"

"Breakfast?"

"Here, open."

"Wait...My...locks?"

"Well, I had to make sure you were alright. I'd be a pretty bad intern if I let something bad happen. Now, here; you should eat something. Even if I made it."

Makoto ate a few bites of breakfast. A flush of pink filled Komaeda's cheeks, and he was smiling so much. A part of Makoto's fevered mind felt glad that Komaeda was this happy, but he could barely keep his eyes open to see it.

Nagito paused, setting the chopsticks down to brush back the hair that was plastered to Naegi's forehead. "Are you still awake?" he asked.

There was no answer, save for Naegi's soft breathing, accented by the quiet rasp of his congested nose.

Nagito took the unfinished food back to the kitchen. He gave into temptation and sucked the lingering traces of broth and the moisture from Naegi's lips off of the chopsticks, then pocketed them. He returned to the room and helped Naegi drink some juice. And he drank what remained in the glass after, then thoroughly scrubbed it clean with a light, giddy head and a chest full of shame.

He wiped the sweat from Naegi's brow and pulled up a chair beside the bed so he could sit there fanning him. Unfortunately, he couldn't switch hands when his wrist got sore, but he didn't mind it.

After all, Naegi needed him.

He was really lucky.

#danganronpa #komaeda intern au #nagito komaeda #makoto naegi #komaegi #my fanfic #thinking of doing a follow-up #where kyoko and hina show up during their lunch break #and find out nagito's still there #(not to mention i'm imagining munakata or yukizome send mikan in to help)

[fiveais]

Unfinished Lethal League Blaze Fic: Unauthorized Maintenance

i started this fic. some time late last year, and i unfortunately ran out of steam while polishing it, but i still would like to share it (it's not written well enough for AO3). it's just about all headcanons despite my best efforts to capture what little there is to their canon personalities, so who knows how well i did there lol. i hope, if u choose to read, u enjoy it nonetheless

Rating: probably something like PG

Warnings: mild self harm mention, oblivious robot friend, fictional programming jargon, and robot body horror(?)

Characters: Raptor&Switch, with a tiny bit of Latch

“So when we do this- could you turn around for a minute when I take it off?”

Switch took a step back and scanned the setup they had made in the communal living space they allocated for this. The couch sat at a slightly lower height than what he was hoping for. He opened up the part of the architecture suite that handled spacial contradictions and disparities- it all came back with a positive return. He slid the chair forward anyway and then turned to face Raptor.

He was talking about his face.

Raptor sighed, hand tentatively posed to itch his arm, but he held back “dude, it’s not a big deal, I’ve seen your insides before”.

“No, man you don’t get it. Like-” He couldn’t explain it. The thoughts snagged and gummed up right as they were coming to a head. Some he could make out and others were harder to find specific words for. He floundered- bits and pieces of half broken syllables and snipped consonants were all that he was able to get out before he gave up entirely on the endeavor with a dejected sigh.

“Please?”

Raptor shifted his weight from one foot to the other and then back. He felt something bubbling under the surface and it burned his throat. Switch looked on at him in that way that he did when he expected a response, but his question had left a hot coal in the pit of his belly. It bothered him that this bothered his best friend. He thought they trusted each other more than this. He thought they were close. He thought they were really close.

“Okay, but can I ask something?”

That took him by surprise, “yeah, man, anything”. He eased into the chair they decided to use for this.

He took that to heart and braced himself, “are you scared what I might think? That I’ll think you’re weird or something?” The questions hung heavy between them.

He took a moment to think- mulling the questions and how he felt. When he melded them together- Raptor brought the malformed thought to light. What he felt was something like that.

“Yeah.”

“Huh? Are you okay?”

He tried again “yeah, dude. I’m scared. I don’t know how to explain it. But I think if you see me without the-“ he made a vague gesture around his face “-piece here, you might- you know. I don’t know.” He kind of did, but mostly he didn’t really want to think about it.

“What? See your robo-skeleton face and freak out?” He gave him a light shove. “C’mon man- it’s just a face. We all have skeletons and it’s not like you have gross stuff like blood or whatever. Just get it over with.” He felt the stress ease out of his shoulders as he turned to sit on the sofa, eying the tools.

Switch flexed his fingers one at a time, releasing them, and then all at once until his joints creaked “can you, like, promise to not freak out. Like, seriously, don’t freak out.”

Raptor raised one of the cleaning tools. Huh, he doesn’t remember this one. “No, I won’t freak out. Can we do this already? I’ve been ready for this since you asked. We kind of need to do this fast-“ or else all the old gunk and dust that built up might just stick to him forever and who knows what that would do weeks or months from now.

There was a series of clicks and a several latches unhooking from the inside- a pneumatic pressure gauge hissed as it retracted. He kept his attention on how everything undid and unlatched and separated away from the rest of his body. There was no turning back now. Next thing he knew Raptor had gently lifted it out of his grip, and held it while just looking at him. A cacophony of uninsulated clicks and whirls were made as he failed to look anywhere else that wasn’t directly at the human that stood over him. He made an attempt to turn his head, but the rollers silently spun uselessly in place. He imagined that this is what a camera on a tripod must feel like. Except he has bare exposed lenses that were out on display in the open along with all the delicate wires and circuits and motherboard; meanwhile Raptor was right there holding his face-

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. He chanted to himself as Raptor sat across from him, setting his now dimly-lit casing aside on the couch cushion next to him, not really taking his gaze off of Switch.

Raptor ran a hand over the tools and slid one of the smaller ones out of its pocket. With a soft microfiber brush tip and squeezable cleaning barrel, it was the first one to use for small sensitive parts. He peered up and beckoned Switch to lean a little further down and forward so he didn’t have to strain to keep his arm still as he worked. Switch inched ever forward in the chair- it groaned and half of his face was now cast in a column of bright warm sunlight, his lens contracting and throwing deep shadows where the light caught on his face.

Raptor’s jaw slackened and his hand got sidetracked. This was his friend, he’s had this face when he was made. It was just under the case that protected it this whole time. When was the last time he took it off? Did he ever get cleaned up like this? Was there anyone to help him then?

Getting a closer look, it reminded him of the old guts of a computer tower with the anatomy of one of those electronic skeletons found in toys. There were several tiny circuit boards- wires that were bundled with electric tape- some in neat tidy strips and others in a haphazard mess, a couple little fans that sputtered in frequent bursts, a couple little speaker-looking parts, a large mess where his mouth would be- it didn’t even look like a speaker, and to his surprise, two lens that were locked onto him.

In a smooth and methodical motion he looked for a place to start, circling around his eye area. The cleaning solution that would clear any dust off and polish his eyes gleamed in the mid-day sun as he closed in on Switch’s face.

He heard the soft clicking and whirling of camera lenses as Switch focused on him and tried to distract himself “is it bad?”

Wow, that brush was getting close to his eye.

He leaned away slightly.

Raptor stopped and hummed “not as bad as we thought it was gonna be.” He raised a brow “can you feel this?” The brush met the outer rim of his eye- tiny raised text caught the cleaning mixture which condensed into a crystalline droplet that slid into his view. Switch flinched back before realizing what it was. He really needed to chill, he could trust Raptor with this- it was difficult to fight off his fraying nerves when a slew of different hardcoded self-preservation functions poked him every few nano-seconds- one after another. In succession.

He leaned back forward, hands resting on his lap in loose fists “no- but-” something in his hindcode itched. He took a glance at it. It was a loop of the company variety. Again. “Just be gentle?”

Raptor seemed only a little annoyed, brush held in the air, “trust me, dude, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you” he slowly returned with gentle contact- Switch heard a series of soft scrapping sounds coming from seemingly right inside his audio input receptors. Everything in him screamed that this was unauthorized, that it was potentially damaging, that he might just explode and die a fiery death (which wasn’t going to happening, but the company maintenance made vague threats like it would). He decided to authorize Raptor as a technician right then and there- he just hadn’t thought about how he had never done this before. He opened a system option and accessed the manual bypass for personnel intel and security. It was so broken and frail it didn’t care that he was the one talking to it. Only the thing had completely ignored him when he reached for the input prompt list.

Wait.

He went after it, but it didn’t even go near the route programs he usually had corralled them to.

>> System: return address; null function; else return “error”;

> error; return data type; void int;

What.

Then he heard it.

“REGISTERING TECHNICAL CLIENT FOR AUTHORIZATION. PROCEED?” Oh that was loud. It lacked all the inflection of what he usually sounded like, too. Actually, exploding right about now didn’t seem so bad. Maybe even an astroid hitting him where he sat.

Raptor froze and went pale, he was stopped whatever he was saying and doing. That was never good. He went straight for a backdoor, deciding not to waste time confronting it.

“Switch?” He said in a small brave voice.

“PROCEED?” The voice asked again. Piece of shit was scaring Raptor, he needed back in right now. But just as the system didn’t care that he accessed it, it didn’t care that he needed a fast way to find the lead to where this program was coming from. Terminate. Terminate you stupid piece of shit software.

Raptor looked lost and terrified like his best friend was taken over by some kind of virus and was about to eat him.

A moment passed. Then another. He slowly took his hand away after realizing nothing was going to happen, and regarded him carefully, ready to launch off the couch if he needed to. He swallowed thickly and then followed the body-snatcher’s lead.

“Proceed?”

“TECHNICIAN DESIGNATION” the voice prompted in its flat buzzy voice.

“Raptor” it didn’t have any of the charm of when they first met, but he found some small sense of bemusement in this second first meeting.

“REGISTERING “RAPTOR”. BYPASSING CONFIRMATION CODE 405.” Almost there. He had a feeling the lack of company server was what even let Raptor interact with the program like this.

Raptor seemed less scared and more confused and concerned “Hey, Switch, are you in there?” For all he knew this thing was now Switch and that the friend he knew was gone.

He wrestled the voice command away “hey, yeah, I’m here- sorry” he would have crawled behind the couch and manually erase all of this if he could.

Raptor gave him a pointed look “dude, that was not cool.” He paused. Oh, his hand was shaking now. Shit.

Switch slowly reached up to try to reassure him.

“I’m okay, don’t worry about it” he didn’t look or sound okay.

“I’m sorry” he elaborated “I was… it was…” he made a learned frustrated sound “I just authorized you as my main technician. You can access everything now” he continued “I didn’t know that was gonna happen. I thought it was all boring internal company stuff and you could work while I deal with it” it was easier to tell when he looked off and away to the side “I know that was loud.”

Oh. This was a Citynetics thing. Switch didn’t ever really talk about them.

“It’s cool, we’re cool… What do you mean by everything?” Getting back to the task at hand, Raptor took one deep breath and then another. He shook his hands out and took a drink. He felt a little better. Everything was okay, it’s alright, Switch was still Switch.

“Everything as in everything” he made a motion with his hand “you know, coding and parts and all that.”

“Oh. Cool.” Raptor didn’t grasp that Switch had just handed him, but that was okay, he would figure it out later.

He picked up the brush once more, gestured for Switch to return to his position, and then started on the other side of his face. He rested his left hand across on the collar of Switch’s neck and used his right forearm to prop up his hand up just below his wrist. Barely squeezing the plastic barrel for more cleaning solution and being as careful as to avoid exposed wire and metal and glass, he went to work. His hand still held a slight tremor- then he noticed Switch clench his fist just a fraction “do you have, like, popups that yell at you or something?”

“Well. Yeah, I guess. Most of the time I can ignore it.”

“That sounds like it would suck.” Raptor snapped the cap back on the brush- saving solution from drying, and reached for the little blue can of electronic air duster. There was a ton of light grey dust built up in little mounds around the fans and boards. He gingerly started working on the tiny metal fans as he held the brush with the attachment up to them.

Switch tried to relax. In the undercode that ran behind his awareness there was a constant stream of now approved movements that Raptor was making. It was weird. There was now something that tracked every move Raptor made and a new library of statements that revolved around ID’ing him. Was this always there and he just now noticed it? He doubted it. Suddenly it disappeared and Switch made a startled noise as Raptor came back from opening a window to air out the room.

“What’s up?”

When he looked at Raptor something popped up in the undercurrent and he went to check it out.

He didn’t need another full-body possession twice in one day “hold on… when I authorized you something weird happened and it’s trying to track you”.

“Wow, creepy, but okay” Raptor said lightly, the ice cubes clinking together as he took a refreshing sip.

Switch sounded distracted “it’s trying to do something here… oh.”

“Oh?” Raptor casually turned over their small can of all-purpose 3-in-1 oil.

What exactly did he open up when he went to authorize him.

“It’s trying to give you some kind of title… you’re my… handler? Creation buddy? Another ex-worker? I don’t get what this is trying to tell me, it’s written in another language from everything else.”

“Dude, you’re bilingual?”

“Something like that, yeah. It’s a computer language that I don’t know” he focused on the oil can, it was new. Where did he get that from? “I should know all of them, so I’m not gonna lie, I’m kinda worried about what’s going on.”

Raptor tried to wrap his head around what he was saying “so the thing that talked to me is speaking to you in a language you don’t know even though it’s your mind- and It’s trying to give me a label even though you just said I’m you ‘technician’”? He grabbed a microfiber cloth and tipped a dollop of oil onto it. It would protect the raw steel from rust “why would it try to call me anything other than ‘technician’?”

Switch wondered why, too. It was broken and twitchy and when he gave it his attention it pinged him. Or it moved. He only understood a fraction of it even when he looked into the transistor part of his code (which almost overwhelmed him to even make the call for in a terminal screen). It kept updating and changing and when he moved it moved with him. Weird.

Then he tried something- bypassing the input-output he spewed a line of code right at it.

Mid-questioning everything up until now, just like that, he was gone.

When he came to- his system already went through the on-off system check. This is not where he was expecting his day to go. Maybe Raptor accidentally snapping off a fan or a bundle of wires coming loose and disconnecting something vaguely important? Well yeah, but not this. Last thing he remembers was sending a line of code that would have crashed that thing that was hanging out with him in his head- oh.

Raptor stood at his side, hovering over him. It took a minute for his vision to clear up entirely. He knew that look.

Now that he got the chance, he noticed that he was on the floor on his side- he tried to get up, but a hand pressured him to stay. What happened?

Raptor’s face was weird and puffy. It left him feeling uneasy- it was off and looked uncomfortable and almost sad? Angry? There wasn’t a lot of red in his face, it was mostly wet like he was crying. Something bad must have happened while he was out. He checked his history bank. It wasn’t there, actually looking for it now- it was out of his reach. He felt like he should be more worried, but Raptor had to come first, he could worry about his system later. How could he make this better? Raptor probably thought he had off-lined him. More than anything he felt guilty- he really messed up this time.

He stammered out a “sup”

Seriously. That was the best he could think of? Try again- what does Raptor need right now.

“I really fucked up, this time, I’m sorry” his voice sounded tinny and crackled. Was his face still on the couch?

Raptor’s voice sounded mildly stuffed up “Latch’s here”

Oh.

He heard someone adjust on the couch, clacking away at a keyboard out of his view “hey” it was cool and impartial. That was Latch, alright.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“You terminating your own code mid-process is what’s up- do you see this?”

Something gave him a jolt and forced itself into his view. It took up his whole vision “yeah, but now I can’t see you”

“Good. Just follow it.”

“So following your responses from that program it looks like your sentience stems from somewhere in the system options and augmenting area of your code. To make this short: you were talking to yourself, but because it was a fraction of an already broken code you fractured more of it and made a kind of mirror of code. It probably acted strange- does that sound right?”

He would have nodded “yeah! It tried to get my attention and kept saying weird half-gibberish to me”

Latch motioned with one hand “think of it as your subconscious- it wasn’t you per se, but rather, like a more complex low level thought process. You have the memory for it.” He paused “I had wrote a user-based function that should keep that from happening.”

He turned to Raptor “it was like a snake eating its own tail, but I made it so he knows not to do that again, right?”

Latch gave him a look that could freeze summer over

“Right”

Was he the system options? Is that where he came from? It was a lot to think about.

Raptor cleared his throat “I owe you one, Latch”

Latch huffed as he hopped down from the couch and brushed himself off

“I know who to bill, you bums don’t have a penny to your name”

“Heh, got us there”

“Thanks, Latch”

“No problem, kid. Next time he does something stupid like that, you can plug him into your laptop, he can figure it from there.”

Raptor saw him out, Switch watched from his position on the floor- Raptor then closed and locked the door behind him and turned and came back “I thought I killed you- you know”

“I’m sorry-“

Raptor exhaled with a shuddered breath “I tried everything, nothing worked-” he started to pace, not really looking at Switch. Words barely tapering off above a hoarse whisper- grabbing at his hair with one hand and positioning his other near his mouth “-I thought you forgot to charge, but plugging you in didn’t work. I thought-“ his eyes were getting shiny and his words started to choke up and all thought was devoured by a wall of emotion that he had holed up in his the entire time that Latch getting Switch to just turn on. He held onto hours of storming thoughts when Latch managed the first time he boot up where Switch wasn’t really Switch. Then they tried again. The second time looked promising, but it still wasn’t clicking in place. By the third he was starting to lose grip with his nerve, hands turning numb as he tried to keep his cool. He had obviously mostly failed on that front from the looks of it.

He never told Switch, but sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night with this specific dream- one that when he sat up he felt as though the wind was knocked out of his body and the floor was pulled from right under his feet. Like a waking nightmare coming true. Like Switch never turning on from a crash.

“I thought you were dead- you. You weren’t coming back. That-“ That he was gone and the only person who had given half a damn about him had left him alone in a world where no one cared what happened to some kid who played ball and had nothing else to his name but a bat and a helmet.

“Raptor-” he faltered, thinking on the best words he knew. The ones that’ll balm Raptor’s hurt- he kneaded and mulled over the words in his mind that would reassure that he would never leave Raptor like that, but his own stupid mistake and shallow foresight had almost lead him to his end. Again. He would be the master of his unmaking and he felt helpless to the knowledge. It made for some choice alerts in his under-code that paid attention to every little thought that crossed his mind. Nonetheless, even if the logical pathways left errors- he chose to ignore them for the one good solid truth he knew.

“Raptor, I’m still here.” It was all that he could afford.

He propped himself against the couch with his arm outstretched as an open invitation for Raptor- a small plea to close the gap. Raptor haphazardly collapsed in the familiar angles of Switch’s embrace. He melted into his side and pressed himself as close he could as he was wracked with a quiet upset.

“I’m here” his voice had tempered into something soft and warm and solid and repeated it until Raptor lulled himself into a stupor. Limp as he was held Switch noticed the little wells that his teeth left on his arm and the red angry skin around his sutures.

What was he thinking doing that to some part of himself he didn’t have a clue about. He should have ran a diagnostics to see what that even was. At the very most they would have called Latch together ofr him to have to section off that part of his system options. It would have been annoying, but nothing compared to this. He gently scooped Raptor up with very little effort- reaching behind himself to unplug some wires he was still hooked up to. Raptor only stirred a little, but some light coaxing got him to settle down. He eased him onto the couch, working off his helmet that he then laid on the coffee table next to their mess.

When that was done he closed the couple laptops Latch was using earlier, wrapped up the cords in a neat little bundle, and made space for himself on the floor by the couch. If there was anything left from cleaning his electronic components- they were quickly forgotten about. There would always be another time for that. Settling down Switch let his arm rest on the cushion next to Raptor. He took comfort in the sensor that gauged the mild influx of psi as it rested well, a nudge had let him know that there was the tiniest bit of resistance against it. Raptor was pressing himself up against his arm.. After a few more minutes he then picked up on the gentle slow snoring. It was late afternoon- almost time for dinner if he had to be frank, so it would probably be next to impossible for Raptor to go to bed on time, but after this, he figures one personal day wouldn’t hurt. He’d help Raptor catch up on any of his homework if it came to that.

With the dying light and the sulfur lamps blinking on one by one he let himself sink into the thought of tomorrow and the day after and the day after.

#my writing #asper writes #lethal league blaze #llb switch #llb raptor

[dahliarosebud]

- Bucky Barnes x Reader

• Angst

• MAIN-MASTER-LIST

Warnings: sh description both scar and fresh, gore, mention of a knife, stitching wounds, dissociation inspired, anxiety, hints of depression, guilt, grief, hinted sleep walking??, blood

Synopsis: After waking up alone you go and look for Bucky after hearing a loud clattering in the kitchen. In the kitchen you discover Bucky in what can only you can describe as a tear jerking twisted scene. You clean and patch him up and eventually he comes to only he is riddled with a gut twisting guilt.

A/n: Not really interlinked with the MCU other than the fact that Bucky is the character -reader and Bucky live together in a gross flat thing

———————

I sat up feeling the cold emptiness at the side of me. My eyes squinted as they skimmed over the dark room. The cold caused the familiar chill to travel up my bare arms. 

My fingers wrapped around the edge of the duvet, comforting, whispering to me, asking for me to lie back down and go to sleep.

My shoulders slumped in a fatigued sigh. My eye lids growing heavier and heavier by the minute. My head occasionally trying to roll and nod forward. 

The room was warm like a well needed blanket. The desire to sleep teetering on the edge of my slowly slipping conscience. 

I could feel my fingers began to slip, only now resting on the soft material. I contemplated laying back down allowing for the endearing of sleep to swallow me whole. As I began to be pulled down by the hugging arms of drowsiness I could feel the relaxation of it all intoxicate me. 

Suddenly I shot back up. The clattering in the kitchen startling me. I was wide awake now. Eyes fully open. My fingers wrapped back around the edge of the duvet. 

Drowsiness released its dangerous hug. I shuddered as the freezing travelled through out my blood stream. The floor boards creaked under my feet as I carefully crept forward.

The whole house was dark. The ominous black beckoning me forward ready to eat me whole. I pressed my hand against the door frame giving myself some more time to wake up. 

Venturing further my heart pitta-pattered pitta-pattered to the beat of my padding feet across the floor. I dodged the furniture that mapped out the living room. Ringing my hands as I grew closer.

The gnashing teeth of anxiety gnawing on the back of my mind. The impending pulse of an already forming headache spread across my skull. I felt the shift of atmosphere as I pushed open the slightly ajar door. 

I swallowed down the fear as I felt my breath leave me and my quickening pulse to fend for ourselves with the horrifically twisting shadows.  I reached my hand back. Feeling my breath return as I felt the plastic under my finger print.

I flipped the switch. The old lights flickering on. “Bucky?” I whispered into the yellow covered room. My gaze flicked over each surface and crevice. 

The tainted glint of shining silver caught my eye. I walked forward. One foot in front of the other. I watched as red spots began to lead my way.

I could feel the acidic bile creep higher and higher, my breath growing ragged. I stopped just before the black handle. A bloody kitchen knife lied before me. Removed from its wooden blocked home where it belonged.

I crouched down picking it up. Breathing deeply through my nose, allowing the breath to get uncomfortably lodged in my throat. I opened my mouth, but shut it. My breathing replaced with another’s.

My grip on the knife’s handle tightened. Turing around the curved corner of the island. Instead of a knife at my feet there was now a slouched man sat in front of me. Leaning against one of the walls of the island. 

The top hung over him, casting a dreary shadow. Crouching down once again -to be at his height-. Putting a hand on his shoulder, “Buck?” 

Placing the knife down gently at my side. I leant forward; trying to meet his eyes. Yet he just stared past me into a nothingness. His mouth was agape slightly, eyes dim, but the steady rise and fall of his chest gave him away. 

“James?” I moved to crouch in front of him. My hand flew over my mouth. My feet rapidly moved me, shuffling me away. The bottom of my back colliding with the counter top.

I fell to the ground pain flourishing through me. My hand still pressed tightly to my mouth as a sob broke free, tears falling like a melancholy waterfall.

My eyes were fixed onto the metal arm, unable to look away. The blood the dribbled and dripped, staining the floor beginning to crust into ruby red jewels. The skin around where his arm is  was red and swollen. 

He tried to tear his arm off? How did I not hear him? How did he not cry?

A sickening mess. My stomach twisted and plummeted. I looked up my eye lids flickering as the image permeated itself, engraving itself into my soul . The skin was teared into. A steady stream of crimson still flowed from the deeper cuts. 

Claw marks and knife gashes littered the skin. “Oh...my love,” I muttered. Crawling forward to sit back in front of him. I placed my hands on either said of of his face. Pulling his head forward softly, 

I closed the gap kissing his forehead gingerly with trembling lips. Pressing our foreheads together as I continued to cry. Turning my head planting repeated kisses on his cheek, my right hand tucking the hair that ghosted over his face behind his ear. Once then twice, repeating the action while I proceeded to look into his desolate.

I stood up, rushing to draw a bath. The dingy damp little room was lit by the water damaged light. I worked quickly. Putting the plug in, drawing the bath, skimming my hand through the water making sure it was just right.

 I rushed to the cleaning cupboard under the sink pushing everything out of the way finally finding the med kit. I threw it next to the bathtub. Jogging into the kitchen.

Come on, I heaved slinging his good arm over my shoulder. Dragging him into the bathroom , grunting. Once we were back into the tiny space I sighed in some relief. He stood still unmoving. I moved past him turning off the tap before helping him undress. I held onto his arm as he stepped into the beige tub. 

I sat by his side, the separation weighed on my shoulders even if it was just a chunk of plastic. I unzipped the med kit taking out: the disinfectant, bandages, the needle and thread. I gulped as I sanitised the needle. Shaky hands trying one, two, three, four times before finally threading the needle.

 I tied it off, reaching a blood stained hand up. I gently pinched the skin together, feeling his shoulder jerk slightly. I breathed bracing myself as the bile crept back up as the metallic small burned my nose.

I stitched the deep cuts together. Fighting off the constant need to gag as the squelch of flesh echoed in my ear drums. Finally sewing shut the last one of the three, biting the thread to separate it. 

I dropped the bloodied needle into the lid of the med kit, reaching over the ledge of the tub. Grabbing the floating wash cloth. Ringing it out. I ran it lightly over the skin of his back, ridding him of the blood, sweat and grime that riddled his body.

Dipping it back into the ever growing reddish-brown water. Ringing it out once again. Soothingly wiping the wash cloth over his stomach, dragging it cautiously over the flesh arm then his chest. 

Dipping and ringing it one last time. I grabbed the bottle of disinfectant soaking the cloth in it. I braced one hand on his other shoulder. He flinched as I pressed it to the angry searing skin finally waking up from his nightmarish state.

I ran it over the skin, cleaning his wounds. I heard him breathe in a sharp breath through his teeth. The sound of wincing was soon overcome. Soft whimpers and cries scurried out from his mouth.

I dropped the wash cloth into the tub. His head turned as he now faced me. His eyes looking into mine. More tears burning at the back of my eyes.

 Tears trickling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he whispered ashamed. “I’m sorry!” His shoulders shook as he sobbed, leaning forward. I leant to meet him half way.

He rested his head on my shoulder sniffling and crying. Continuously whispering sorrowful woes in my ear. My heart broke even more. A little bit of us both broke for each other today.

“It’s okay, Its okay.” I whispered back. My fingers running through his hair. “Its okay.”  He sobbed impossibly harder. His hands wrapping around my wrists, his thumbs drifting across my skin.

“I love you,” he spoke into the my hair. The light flickering above us, ready to give up. I felt him tuck his head further into the crook of my neck. Feeling the way his chest shuddered to the stutter and squeeze of my heart.

I chewed on my bottom lip as we continued to cry holding each other like a grieving family to the memory of a loved one...

This is something I will never forget. Forever in the forefront of my mine. Carved out in my mind mirroring the way it was carved into his skin something to haunt me for the rest of my life with jagged white lines.

But I’m happy. It’s sick and sadistic, but I’m happy that he is still here with me. I’m relieved. Scars or not he is still as beautiful as the day I met him.

And so with a tearful sigh I said “I love you too.” 

#in love #angst #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #james bucky barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barns x you #x reader #x you #x y/n #bucky x reader angst #bucky x you angst #bucky x y/n angst #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes x you angst #bucky barnes x y/n angst #dahliarosebud #carved mind scarred skin #sad #bucky barnes angst

[bonniebird]

Billy x Reader

Requested by anon

Masterpost

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You stared at Steve. For so long that Robin got up and waved a hand in front of your face. “Is it that bad?” Steve asked from his slumped spot on the floor against the icecream counter.

“Your face looks gross. What happened!” You asked.

“You broke up with your psycho ex. Again.” Steve snapped.

“In my defence the first four time he didn’t seem to hear me when I said we’re not dating anymore so it was probably a shock to him.” You said sarcastically as you set your bag down and leaned down so you could look at him better. “You need the hospital? Because I only have enough gas to get halfway there.”

“He’s not broken anything. Just swollen and split a lip.” Robin said.

“Can you take my car and get some ice from the store? Meet me at mine. Here.” You snatched a napkin and a pen off the counter and wrote down your address. You fished in your bag for your purse and gave her ten dollars, telling her to get some snacks too. You helped Steve out to Steve’s car and drove him home to your house. The lights were still off. Your mom was working the night shift again. Turning on the lights as you went, you made your way to the kitchen.

“For now you’ll have to make do with frozen peas.” You said as you fished a bag out of the freezer and handed them to Steve. You went to find a wash cloth so he could clean up his face a little.

“Thanks.” He muttered as he went to the downstairs bathroom. You leaned on the wall outside, hearing him turn on the tap.

“What’d he want? Before… you know. He smooshed your face?” You asked.

“To know where you were.” Steve said after a moment of hesitation.

“You could have just told him.” You muttered. He was quiet. You swallowed guiltily. Steve stepped out of the bathroom, turning back to switch off the light. He looked much better now the smeared blood was gone. Robin was right though, his face was swollen. He followed you back to the kitchen and accepted the bag of frozen peas.

“I have your back.” Steve muttered. You winced and nodded.

“You know I think my mom has some clothes of yours from back when your washing machine broke last year and she did the laundry for you and your mom. No promises though.” You said. Steve shrugged.

“It’s fine. I already got beat up in my uniform and might as well wear it with pride.” He said sarcastically.

“That’s good because I’m not sure if she didn't give that stuff to Dustin. She wasn’t sure if it would fit.” You said as if it had just occurred to you. The sound of a car pulling up outside the house and the glare of headlights passed by the front of the house. Assuming it was Robin you didn’t go to the window to check.

“Are you sure that you’re ok?” You asked Steve.

“Best I’ve ever been. He’s not the worst I've gone up against.” He smiled at you and you chuckled.

“Oh yeah. You and Dustin hunted… evil dog monsters?” You asked. Steve made a face and then winced as he pulled at his split lip. You both jumped as the door burst open. The frame around the lock splintered and Billy stepped into your hallway. Peeking out from the kitchen you glanced at Steve in panic. He’d jumped to his feet. Before he could hurry out you grabbed at an old battered baseball bat that sat by the back, kitchen door, leaning against the fridge.

Grabbing it you raised it, stomping out to confront Billy who hesitated and stepped back. “What. The fuck!” You shouted at him.

“Why is he here?” Billy asked calmly. He waited for an answer as if he had let himself into your house with a key and you weren't brandishing a bat at him.

“Because he’s my friend and you messed up his face. I wanted to make it up to him.” You snapped back wearily.

“You don’t care about me anymore?” Billy asked. You scoffed and glanced at Steve who was waiting for you to look like you needed him to jump in.

“No you absolute nutter butter! We’re done. We’re over. I don’t care about you and your psychotic feelings. Leave me and my friends alone.” You insisted.

“But if he just stopped sticking his nose in our business we could work things out. You know we could.” Billy stepped towards you with his hands out to try and be non threatening. You tapped the bat against his chest as a warning for him not to come any closer.

“Get out.” Your tone was calm, steady but sharp. Billy smiled and put his hands down.

“I just want to talk.” He muttered, his voice soft as if he thought he could fool you.

“No Billy. You had chance after chance and now it’s too late. Get out and go away.” Your voice had a tone of finality that made a shiver of rage ripple through Billy. 

“Fine. Make me your villain.” His face twisted with anger and he snatched the bat. You found yourself jerked to the side by the force that he had pulled at the bat. Steve moved to jump and tangle with Billy for the second time that day. But you had a flash of when Joyce Byer had taught you and Nancy to defend yourselves. She had tackled Jim and taken him by surprise, leaving him breathless and on his back. With a firm movement your knee collided with Billy and he grunted, covering his crotch as he gasped for air. Then using your balled fist you struck him. He fell, toppling onto his back.

“Hold this.” You said handing Steve the bat.

“Yes ma’am.” Steve said with a touch of adrenaline fueled excisetment. You rounded the wheezing Billy and grabbed him by the shoulders of his shirt and dragged him out onto your drive. Robin was running up with a few bags.

“Stay away from us Billy! Or next time I won't just kick you.” You said angrily. Billy looked up at you, tears pricking his eyes. He got to his feet, jumping as if he hadn’t noticed Robin who hurried to back you up.

“I won't.” He muttered. You felt, for a moment, a little guilty. But then you turned away as he got into his car. Steve was waiting at the door, bat in one hand, bag of peas still in the other. 

“Let's get Steve fixed up. We’ll have to come up with some excuse for the door being broken.” You mumbled.

“We could say that you came home and found the door busted open and that we came over and stayed with you until someone else was home.” Robin suggested. She followed you into the house and Steve tried to close the door as much as it would with the busted lock and frame. You use two tea towels to wrap up the ice and insist that Steve sit down and put it on his face while Robin poured the snacks into bowls and flipped through the TV channels to find something good.

Billy tags:

@lisainhell @spiderwebs-blog @gryffindorqueensworld @rockyrascal @twerp8999 @theletterhart @boardstomymood @big-galaxy-chaos @greekktragedyy @ietss @alexxavicry @daughterofthenight117 @sarcasm-n-insomnia @multi-fandom5 @skylermoyer @justice-for-the-kaldorei @favmeyou @kaylantus @supernatural-wolfie @yougottalovefandoms @alwaysadreamingoptimist @love1deandra @archaeologydigit @im-eating-rn @bucketbunny @littlefreakingfangirl @hardladyheart @gillybear17 @lchufflepuffcorn

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #bonniebird

[bonfire-at-the-crossroads]

Everything is a battle.

It’s exhausting.

I know the entire world is a dumpster-fire right now. I get that. I have absolutely no agency to impact that mess in any way.

None.

And so….

I’m here to say that the level of gross incompetence of every professional, every civic group, every member of any organization designed to help the general population - is positively beyond the pale. I’ve never encountered a nation of useless wankers before - but here we are, and they are LEGION.

Dentists. In NY you can’t swing a cat without knocking down at least three dentists, and an orthodontist.

I lost a crown six months ago, and when I carried it in to my usual dentist in Sligo - he sucked in his breath, hemmed and hawed, and told me “I can’t re-glue it. YOU’VE broken the top of the tooth the crown is glued onto. It’s a REALLY TRICKY TOOTH. Difficult to extract, and I don’t know if there’s enough left to drill into for an implant. I’m going to refer you to a SPECIALIST.”

Allow me to say that to assign personal blame to ME for having a crown come off (YOU’VE broken the …..) - is silly and slightly rude. But I digress.

“The specialist is in the process of setting up his new office in LONGFORD - so call this number and begin the process of making an appointment.”

I’ve probably spoken to Ahmed, the receptionist at the new place - 30 times in the last six months. He’s very nice, very lonely - and completely incompetent. We’ve made appointments, switched appointments, had appointments cancelled - none of these have been my doing…but yes - we finally made the TWO HOUR DRIVE TO LONGFORD a few weeks ago to meet with “the specialist”

He wasn’t there.

Two pleasant women with masks took x-rays, looked in my mouth - and told me in tones of horror “You’ve got a LOT of old crowns in your mouth.” I looked her in the eye and said “I am an old person. And yeah, I’ve had a lot of dental work in my 68 years.”

They blinked. They didn’t say anything. Smh.

I paid €275 for the pleasure of this visit - and made the next appointment to consult with THE SPECIALIST who only visits once a month - and to have one of the women “clean your gums and address those pockets along the back teeth” She made this sound as though it was going to be some sort of highly specialized oral surgery - she is a very serious young woman, and wants to impress me with the gravity of my situation.

€275. Just gonna leave this here….

Waited another MONTH for the next visit - two hours down and two hours back. The “specialist” looked in my mouth, commented about “a lot of old crowns” in my mouth - WTF is with these guys? What are they expecting to see in there? Kittens and unicorns?

And…..

He starts talking about how he’s going to start the implant. Say what? When did anyone ask me about an implant? I was here after six month to address a broken crown and discuss options. I asked “How much are we talking about?”

“€1200. And then an additional €1300 for the crown.” I am confused and think he’s discussing the crown just in front of the broken off one - it has been badly chipped and needs to be addressed too.

Nope. The cost of the implant does not include the toothy-bit on top. This is the “crown” he’s talking about.

“€2500 for the implant?” Says I. They nod. I laugh. “That’s not gonna happen.” They seem saddened.

“Let’s discuss other options” I say. There’s a palpable chill in the air.

“Can we replace the chipped crown in front with a new one?” I ask. The specialist is not delighted and quotes me €1400 to make a new one. I ask if he can seal off the broken tooth that will NOT be getting an implant - and we can talk about next steps.

“I’m not sure I have enough time” he actually SAID THIS TO ME, after I’ve waited six fucking months to see him. One of the masked ladies assures him that “your next patient is waiting in the reception room” Out of the goodness of his heart, he relents - and applies a wad of amalgam over the broken gaping hole in my mouth - applies the magic blue light to harden it - and the entire process lasts less than six minutes.

I am now shuffled back to reception, to wait for the serious young woman who’s going to “address those deep pockets along your gumline”

Into the tiny, former closet - into the chair, and she has the audacity to do the demonstration with the little toothbrush and the plastic teeth. “This is how you must brush your teeth.”

I did not kill her.

Suffered in silence while wanting to punch her in the throat. …but telling myself that she honestly believes she is helping me. I got through it.

She needled me in three places, waited ten minutes and we were off to the races. I’m expecting scalpels and sutures. I got the usual steel picky-things, and some scraping. Not even followed by the little buffer-thing with the gritty toothpaste - you know the final polish…

Here’s where it gets interesting.

She cleaned my teeth.

And charged me €575.

————————————————

When I called my own original dentist this morning to make an appointment to talk through this situation.

He’s moved. He’s joined some sort of consortium of other wizards, and the new phone number dumps me into a voice messaging system.

So

Just to recap. When I told Brian a few weeks ago that I felt as though I’d been turfed-out by our usual dentist - dumped onto some other guy….he told me I was wrong. He told me to wait for the “The Specialist” that I had been “recommended to”

I was turfed. Eight years of seeing a decent enough dentist in Sligo - he KNEW he was moving to a new practice, he KNEW the specialist was going to take my wallet for a ride, and he KNEW all of this BEFORE HE TOSSED ME INTO THE DITCH.

The fuckery of the people who are meant to have your health and best interest at heart - is profound,

[lifewithasideofdepression]

When You Wake Up Feeling Depressed Already…

I’ve been having some days where I just wake up feeling depressed already, and it feels like I don’t even stand a chance to have a good day. I take my antidepressants every morning, but sometimes those days just sneak their way into the week. As someone who has been fighting depression for over 15 years, here are a few tips on how you can combat this that have helped me recently.

Find that one thing that gets you up in the morning. 

For me, it’s coffee. I love the taste of coffee so much it always puts me in a slightly better mood. Even if I’m feeling really down, it helps a little bit. Honestly, if for you it’s eating a cookie, then get up and eat a fucking cookie, who cares. It could be something like feeding your cat or walking your dog, though you should also feed your dog. My cats never let me sleep past 9:30am, so that’s also a helpful tool! 

It could even be something like getting up to pee. If that’s the case, maybe spend some time making your bathroom really nice. Pick a theme - ocean, vampires, whatever does it for you - decorate a little, make sure it smells nice and is clean. That way, when you get up to pee on those God-awful mornings, it’s at least nice in there. Bathrooms can be a bit sad when they are a gross, off-white color and just have the bare essentials. Invest in some nice toilet paper. I honestly don’t know why anyone buys anything other than Cottonelle. I mean, I understand wanting to save money, but I personally like to invest in a nicer version of something I use every day on some of my most prized body parts. 

Bottom line is to prioritize something that you can look forward to when you wake up in the morning, no matter how small it is.

2. Introduce a “non-negotiable” into your morning routine.

I heard this on a podcast that I love, and it has made a huge impact on my life. A non-negotiable is a good habit that you must do every day, otherwise you would feel weird. Think about any habits that you currently have - is it drinking coffee? Smoking a cigarette? Turning a light switch on/off thirteen times before you leave for work? If there was something healthy that you could be doing every day that you think would help your overall routine and productivity, then you can form it into a habit! 

For me, it’s 10 minutes of yoga in the morning. I wanted to be more active, but working out was a little too extreme for me at the time, so I thought about trying yoga. There are millions of free yoga videos on youtube that you can use for any skill level. I tried a challenge where I did 10 minutes of it every morning for 30 days, and now I feel weird throughout the day if I don’t do it! I love how stretching makes me feel and it activates my entire body before starting the day. 

For you, again, this can be something as simple as a cup of coffee or tea, a nice bath, a puzzle, or walking your dog. Something that is short and easy to do every day, is helpful or healthy for you, and can help you feel accomplished before your day really even starts. It would only take about 2 weeks for your brain to realize that this is something that you need to do every day, and it will form it into a habit.

3. Go outside

No, I am not an “outdoorsy” person by any means. I enjoy the occasional hike (LA hike, not Colorado hike, let’s be clear), but it all ends when I see a bug and need to run back inside to my spoiled, air conditioned life in the city. However, this is true for any human: fresh air and sunshine is a necessity. I think we all learned that from Covid, right? If you still disagree, try and prove me wrong by spending a few minutes outside every day for two weeks and tell me it didn’t make a difference. It won’t solve depression, but I think it’s incredibly helpful when your depression starts to cripple you and keep you locked inside more than usual. 

Whether you are in 0 degree or 110 degree weather right now, bundle up or strip down, and have your morning coffee/tea outside for a few minutes. If your job or other life responsibilities bring you outside occasionally, then great, but if you’re like me and are working from home now and go days without leaving the apartment, then I encourage you to try this. There is nothing quite like the real outdoors. It smells weird, the temperature is never quite that perfect 72 and sunny, there’s lots of trash, a kid is always screaming, but it’s our world and there’s something out there for everyone to feel at home and comforted.

4. Find a smile or laugh in between all the crying and anger.

Look I know the hopelessness feeling all too well. There are days when nothing matters, nothing works, it all is just hopeless, useless shit. You are just laying there waiting for a good feeling to come but it never does. We’ve also had good days, and we all have something that would make us laugh or smile, even if it’s just for a moment. I encourage you to find yours if you don’t already know it. Some of mine are: watching my cats fight, fun coffee memes, and New Girl no context youtube videos.

If you’re feeling particularly heavy after waking up and can’t pull yourself out of bed, you should try to distract yourself by finding something funny or enlightening online. I play a small mobile game on my phone in bed when I wake up, and once I lose a level, I’m distracted enough for a little bit to pull myself out of bed and start my day. You could play your favorite music or watch something funny or uplifting online. I would discourage scrolling through social media or the news, because there are a lot of triggering things out there. Be very particular about what you expose yourself to first thing in the morning.

5. Do something different each morning.

This sounds like a lot but I really mean switch up something so that your mornings aren’t all the same. For example, try a new outfit combination you haven’t ever worn before, alter your breakfast, change your Starbucks order every morning, walk around a different block for your morning walk, etc. The goal here is to make every day feel slightly different from the last. On my good days/weeks, I wake up with the optimism that it’s a new day and I am in control of how it’s going to go. However, when I am in a rut of depression every day, this is key for me. 

Among other things, I really feel my depression when it feels like my life is going nowhere and nothing is improving. If I wake up and have the same breakfast, or wear the usual comfortable, low-effort clothes, it hammers that feeling in. If I switch something up, it helps sell to my brain that it really is a different day, and things can in fact go differently than they did yesterday. 

Depression takes a long time to get under control, and for a lot of us, we will struggle with it for our entire lives. I personally think one of the key things about getting through the day to day with depression is appreciating the little victories and being patient with ourselves while we work through it. If I have a really bad day where I’ve neglected my responsibilities, my friends and family, and the things I usually love, I desperately want to have a better day the next day. It is my sliver of hope when I go to bed. Miracles and solutions don’t happen overnight, so these small changes and alterations we can do for ourselves are sometimes a big step in that direction.

#depression posting #depression is real #mental illness #coping #depression relapse #mental health #self help

[juliethefinalgirl]

"Who's There?": Short Drabble

◆ Wanted to post some of my short drabbles on situations I imagined Julie in. Don't know if these are scenarios I'm going to continue but I'm keeping it in my notes here. tw: None, just spooky. Setting: Mall, Underground Movie Theater, Garage. ⋯

It's late night, and the last showing has finally finished, making it closing time for Julie, who needs to put the stuff away. She was meant to leave earlier, but she needed the extra cash, and there had been some financial strain lately at home.

The theater is located beneath the mall, connecting to a driveway leading outside that Julie would normally leave from to go home. It was a bit of a walk, but the driveway led her closer to the bus outside the complex; thankfully, she was wearing her running shoes.

Alone at the theaters, Julie starts to collect the life sized cardboard cut-outs of a slasher from a recent horror movie that just dropped a couple weeks ago, and the fever for it was still riding high. It was to the point that masks of the slasher and popcorn buckets with a dedicated design had started to litter the gross carpet that she needed to sweep up.

Julie puts the creepy cardboard cutouts into a closet near the concession stand, the radio playing some love songs while she hauls everything back. Although the work was tedious, she preferred it over doing the dishes or moving the garbage out.

The carpeted hallways were long, leading to theaters 1 - 10 with 2 bathrooms located at each end. As Julie collects one of the last few cut puts, a particular one annoys her as it was wearing the killer mask that she had been collecting all night.

"Damn kids,"  but she wouldn't be surprised if the act was done by someone her age as well.

As the song from the radio continues to play, it switches to the radio host discussing the recent disappearances of several Austin residents. All of which are given the radio host's best wishes to them and their family.

It had been since the start of September since their disappearance. It was now four days before Halloween, and the air had gotten colder since then. Although it was warm within the theater, Julie would feel a cold chill run up her back whenever she heard the news of those people disappearing. The radio host then moved to a story about an Old Mill that had been vandalized and abandoned, leading the state to want to take action.

It was nothing new compared to the eerie disappearances of residents going missing or the mysterious white lights that hung over the town of Newt. 

Julie felt that it was just the host trying to be creepy because it was the week of Halloween. With a scoff, Julie had pushed the remaining cutouts into the closet, shoving them all in as it was hellish collecting each of them all night. Her ear catches the sound of something in the distance.

It was like a commotion but  muffled, it was hard to make out the details, but it was very out of place in a mall that was supposed to be closed for the night.

Looking over her shoulder, Julie drops her arms and turns her body in the direction of the empty carpeted distance, giving the walls a mix of red and purple paint, a deep hue paired with a lining of posters of upcoming films. Other than a sparse amount of other movies being featured, the current slasher film was dominating each corner of the theater.

Julie hated horror movies.

It was probably in her mind though, shrugging it off as just the janitor making his rounds cleaning the floors upstairs.

But the sound happens again, this time closer and it snatches her attention. Julie pauses, the song from the radio still playing at the concession stand. Nevertheless it was overall silent.

Julie visually scans her environment and sees nothing but there was something within herself, something innate, that triggered off.

It was like something inside Julie felt threatened as though her position in the food chain was becoming threatened. 

"It's all in my head, it's a late night--just finish this up and catch the bus Julie."

She'd quickly reassures herself, returning back to shoving all the cut outs again as they were cluttering up the space. With all her pushing and shoving, Julie was struggling against the cutouts while the radio continued to play music.

She'd curse under her breath, making a final shove before one of the cylinder cleaning bottles would fall to the ground and roll away pass her shoe. Julie was frustrated, finally managing to push the group of cut outs back into the closet before going for the bottle. Her eyes was casted down, looking down at the dirty dark purple rug printed with abstract shapes. She makes a quick turn, lost for a second not seeing the bottle.

Only then, Julie finds the bottle resting on the carpet some small ways ahead of her. She'd go over towards it, almost crouching down when she had gotten closer but something unfamiliar and eerie makes Julie do a double take. There in the distance was another a lone cutout of the killer with the mask on, standing there staring at her.

Julie was confused, stuck in her place, as her mind was reeling back all the moments she collected from each piece.

Why was there still one out if she was certain she had collected them all? Better yet, why was one standing in the middle of the hallways conveniently there? This had to be a prank, right?

Julie is silent when picking up the bottle off the ground, her gaze filled with suspicion and locked on the distant cutout that appears to be returning her stare.

She snatches the bottle and backs up to the small space, putting it back as she kept her focus on the cutout. She had only taken her eyes off it twice to make sure she was putting the bottle away right, still confused.

She didn't want to approach it; she'd collect it later and instead clean up the leftover popcorn on the floor.

As the radio still sounded, Julie couldn't stop looking at the cutout that was just standing there in the middle of the hallways underneath the buzzing dim lights overhead. Despite being made of cardboard, the cutout appeared to be more detailed with deeper shadows and eyeless holes in the mask that gave the impression that they were tracking her.

But who put it there?

It was all Julie could think of as she quickly finished the rest of her tasks, throwing away the popcorn into the garbage, only to hear the volume of the radio begin to increase and the commotion rise again.

It was louder.

Julie feels a shiver up her spine, an awakened primal instinct that haven’t been aroused before.

"Okay, time to go."

This was enough to send Julie marching up to the final part of her task—popcorn on the floor, be damned. She had to complete the task even though a large part of her inner voice pleaded with her not to.

Julie didn't even bother to take the mask off as she collected the cutout and stuffed it in the closet behind a now shut door with a loud slam for good measure. It was an unconscious action to help reassure herself and let anyone around her know that Julie was aware of their presence and had heard them. With quickness, Julie had collected her stuff, turned the radio off, and beelined to the fire exit, one that led up to the driveway out of the mall.

But upon pressing the door to the exit, there was that commotion again--a sound from a distance—Julie couldn't tell where it was coming this time; however, it had gotten closer. Julie lets out a quick breath, collecting her book bag and jogging over to clock out for the night, rationalizing to that part of her racing mind that there was essentially no slasher out here to kill her; it was too convenient. She had recently cleaned up a whole slew of horror junk dedicated to the movie so it could’ve been all that exposure that was influencing her thoughts.

The noise was from the janitor, the paranoia was from the horror theme, and Julie was working a late night shift for a friend who couldn’t do it.

That was all there was—no killer, no hunt, nothing. This mantra would be repeated over Julie’s mind as she took off the tag from her chest, flinching from the stab of the pin. 

Julie watches as a bit of blood surfaces from her finger, her free hand pressing on the steel handle of the exit. She lets out a defeated breath, recognizing how silly she was being.

“It’s all in my head.”

Turning the handle, Julie was initially going to step through that door, but she paused again.

It looked too dark beside the dying office lights overhead. She was facing a stairwell that climbed upwards to the garage level. 

“...”

Julie gags a little as the hint of old piss assualts her nose but she needed to go home. With a turn of the handle, the door gives in and bounces behind her with a heavy slam, given the bad bolt on the hinges. She closes her eyes, the sound making her jump as it carried upwards to the higher floor. Julie was only needlessly stressing herself out.

“Okay, Julie, one step at a time.”

She braces herself, bracing that muggy, humid air of the stairwell and closing the door behind her. The brunette fixes her bag onto her shoulder and starts up the stairs, sneaker squeaking in protest to each step, leaving behind the exit.

Her mind was easing up a little, and thankfully, it was starting to push away those paranoid thoughts from earlier. Yet, Julie was not going to ignore the odd placement of the cutout, mask on and everything. It was strange and the pinnacle reason why she felt so on edge.

Julie makes a face at the rancid smell again, one hand covering her nose while she fights against the urge to hold the green railing. 

“God, it stinks in here.”

She was doing her best not to inhale too deeply through her nose, and with each step she took, the smell of stale piss became stronger. 

Julie shakes her head in denial, mind stuck on the suspicious cutout.

“I’m just tired, and I probably missed it.”

The stairway echoed Julie’s footstep, the sound reverberating off the beige cement walls, stains, and scum caught between seams. 

A creak is heard, the sound of a door opening, Julie abruptly stops in her place and immediately turns her head up.

But when the door closes, the hallway carries the sound upward.

Julie turned her head, her blood freezing as she hazarded a look over the rail, looking down. 

The door was bouncing, and the bad bolt on the hinge was shaking.

Julie didn’t think—she moved immediately on instinct and started up the stairs in a panicked sprint.

Being on the night shift, Julie was aware that she was alone and had not even seen the janitor. There was no one, so she had to close up.

It was her alone, or so she believed. There was someone coming, they were behind her.

“Oh God, oh God.”

Julie’s eyes were focused upwards, not wanting to look behind her as the fear of seeing whoever it was would slow her down. Her legs already burned, hand slapping on the rail with little care for how filthy it was nor the rancid piss smell in their air. She wanted to leave, Julie NEEDED to leave.

They were coming.

The red door to the fire exit above was just right ahead of her, making Julie skip steps until she slammed her body onto the surface. Hand immediatel going for the handle as she pushed her whole weight onto the surface.

But it wasn’t budging, it had the same issue as the door downstairs with a bad hinge. 

Julie was sweating, frantically pressing herself against the door as she tried to push it open.

“It won’t open, come on you piece of-!” 

And it did, the door opens and Julie looks over her shoulder daring a glance at whomever was following her. 

But given her frantic state, Julie slams the door closed behind her and turned around seeing the familiar dark scenery–she was on the wrong floor.

The driveway exit had a gate, sealing it off from the outside.

“Oh fuck, okay, okay.” 

Julie puts her hands on her head, nervous and legs trembling from the adrenaline as she looked around again. Abandoned cars were left in the black shadows, collecting dust; a mildew smell filled the humid air.

"Think, Julie, think.”

Her eyes looked around again, and Julie saw the elevator. There was no one at the small station booth up ahead; the lights were dim, but it was hard to make heads or tails if someone was really there.

Julie needed to make her decision; someone was coming, and the elevator was too far away.

She needed to try something and judging from how fast she flew up the stairs, there was some distance.

“Okay, okay.”

Julie makes a beeline towards the toll booth up ahead; there just had to be someone there tonight, right? A nightguard or something.

Julie’s sneakers cry in protest as she races to the booth, her footsteps echoing off the pavement as she races ahead. Her breath was becoming uneven and legs felt like heavy weights attached to her hips. The strain was too much; she needed to jog to a stop to catch her breath again, hand grabbing onto the railing as her throat had begun to dry up from her erratic breath.

But she was here, and she made it.

Julie takes a deep breath, clears her throat, and steps heavily in the direction of the window.

“Hello? Help, help me. Someone is,” her voices catches in her dry throat again.

Hands pressed on the cold window, her eyes couldn’t stop looking over at the fire exit she had burst out of earlier. 

“Someone is following me. Hello?”

With a panicked expression, Julie looks from the door into the booth and says, "I need help. I need some…”

Julie’s words drifted off into confused silence as she realized that there was, in fact, no one standing in the small room. Her bewildered green eyes dart across the room, seeing no one at first, then again at the distant door. 

She reaches to the doorknob of the booth, holding it with both hands and a racing heart, as her gaze couldn’t be ripped away from the fire exit.

The door to the booth opens, letting Julie step in and then silently closing it right behind her.

“Okay, okay. Call for help. I can call for help and then—”

She quickly takes a step over to the desk, her hands pushing through all the paper and an empty box of donuts as she unearths the phone.

“Call for help and get the hell out of here.”

Julie’s fingers quickly rushed to the wall, turning the lights off while she tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder. As she enters numbers into the dialer, her mind starts racing with potential doubts and questions. She knew she was doing the right thing, but would the police even believe her? Whatever was happening, Julie felt it was some sort of harassment. 

They were also trespassing, so that would mean something, right?

Her thoughts were loud, but what sounded louder was the silence from the phone. It also felt a little slack in her hands, like the chord didn’t give a sense of resistance.

“...”

Julie stares at the phone dumbfoundedly, looking at its white plastic shape as her fingers tug at the connecting chord, drawing her eyes downward. Like a snake, the chord slithered across the desk, and its curled tail end fell off the edge. Julie takes a confused step backwards, eyes squinting in the dark—-was her foot steps so sticky? 

“What…what the-” her hand hurriedly turned on the poor lights overhead, dim orange light illuminating the inside of the green booth.

She couldn’t breathe.

She felt sick.

At the end of the snipped off phone chord, the scene was forever burned into her mind. 

Her ears hear the firedoor in the distance open, the door bouncing shut from the poor hinges. Julie looks in that direction, her face pale, her hand clenched in a vice grip around the disconnected phone, as the slam catches her attention.

“...”

✀ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  - - - - - -   - - - - - -   - - - - - -   - - - - - - 

This had been playing in my head for a while and I wanted to put it into writing or else it flies away 🕷 might make a part two when the juices come back.

#julie crawford #tcm #mun writes #fiction #who's there?

[timeoverload]

I had a great day. :) I am happy to be home. I didn't think I was going to have a good day when I woke up because I had nightmares last night again. My dream was very realistic. In my dream I was at work and I went to my locker to change my clothes at the start of my shift. I opened it and my stuff wasn't in there. There was a picture of me in there with some random girl that I have never met. For some reason I didn't think it was a big deal and I didn't try to look for my stuff. I just got changed and went upstairs anyway. I felt like everything was so tall and I couldn't reach anything in my department. It was much louder than usual and I couldn't understand what anyone was saying. I got trapped in decontam somehow and I couldn't turn the light on but I had a little candle. I thought that was ridiculous because you can't have candles anywhere in the hospital. I woke up when I was trying to use the light switch. It was a very unsettling dream and I did not want to get out of bed after that.

When I got to work, I was surprised to see a notice on the OR board from the eye coordinators stating that the surgical techs have to set up for each doctor on their own now in order to help me out. It was very tedious to set up pans for 8 different doctors because they all have different preferences. They don't all work on the same day luckily but it can be a lot to keep track of by myself while trying to clean the instruments properly. Now I don't have to look at the schedule constantly and I just have to worry about organizing the instruments in the bottom of the pan. I am keeping them in a specific order to make it easier for them to grab things more quickly. I finally typed up a new count sheet because the last one was 4 years old and there was a lot scribbled on there so it was hard to read. I was able to move more quickly and not get behind which was amazing. One of the techs was complaining to me about how the process has changed. I had to put my foot down and I reminded her that we have been doing things wrong for 20 years and I couldn't let that continue to happen because it was gross and it bothered me. I'm glad that nothing bad happened during that time. She used to work in sterile processing so she should know that it wasn't right but when I explained she understood. It's important to do what's right for the patient. I have made a lot of changes since I took over but it was all necessary and I'm glad that the director has helped me do that.

I was also happy because my boss came to tell me that I could have Wednesday and Thursday off. I wish I wouldn't have been anxious about that all weekend but at least I don't have to worry about it anymore. She did seem annoyed about it so maybe I will refrain from trying to take any time off for a while. I'm not trying to inconvenience anyone.

They had pizza for lunch and it was actually good so I enjoyed that. I also went down there late enough to avoid unwanted company on my break. The afternoon went well too and my cases got done at 5 so I got out of there right on time.

I just need to make it through tomorrow and then I will have 5 days off so I'm really looking forward to that. I don't really have anything planned other than my tattoo appointment on Wednesday and I'm pretty sure I have a follow-up appointment with the spine specialist on Friday. Hopefully I can find something else fun to do.

I think I need to relax now because I'm sore and tired. I don't want to go to bed early but I probably will anyway. I stayed up too late last night. I hope that tomorrow is a good day and that I have better dreams tonight.

I hope everyone else has a good day tomorrow too!!! :) 💖💖💖

#personal

[hastingsrussell]

Is There A Hidden Message? Hurricane Irene - Hurricane Lee

In decay resistant trees, major canopy damage doesn't always pose a problem either. These trees naturally recover well after storms, even with up to 3/4 of their small branches broken or removed. If you have the option of building your home, look into hip roofs. This provides a less wind resistant surface and allows the wind to pass by with less strain on the structure. If the hip roof doesn't appeal to you, you can check in which direction the wind normally blows in your area and position the pitch of your roof to raise the wind like a wedge. This is a much better move than letting the gable of your home catch all the wind. Wind forces against your gables are most likely to cause your roof to fold over like dominoes set up in a pattern and then ultimately blow away. If your home is always in the path of one of those spiraling headaches or you're tired of picking up shingles out of the yard, check to see if you have Hurricane rated shingles. Your shingles are the first line of defense of a hurricane and when they go it doesn't take long for the rest to follow. This type of investment of course would be a good one at that. Not only would it help with the structural integrity of your home but is also known to lower your homeowners insurance after switching your roof top. A little research for material preference will let you know different options and prices that are available.

blackman florida That be said it is also an industry that you can make a ton of money from. How do I know this? Well I made over $30,000,000 in gross sales in my first decade in this industry. It is a great industry and there is still great opportunity for anyone looking for small business opportunities. help me with roof tarp are known for leaving a residue on the carpet which then compounds the problem because it attracts residue to it which totally defeats the original purpose of cleaning the carpet. Once you have taken an inventory of your family, made arrangements for evacuation, anticipated and accommodated failures, and gathered all your needs for seventy-two hours, you need to review and practice your plan each year. emergency system response The electric vacuum and washing machine were invented in 1903. Most families had these appliances, and a few had a mangle, an electric appliance that ironed flat items. Commercial laundries had dryers, but they weren't avaiable to the home market yet. Housewives dried their laundry on outdoor or indoor clotheslines. These stains may not be visible when you send your dress in to be cleaned and preserved. It's important that the company you use not only does a careful visual inspection but also a black-light inspection to reveal any hidden stains. And that the company completely removes all of the stains in your dress.

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[the-firebird69]

We're going after stuff Trump things you took for my son and stashed in the UK we're taking it today tons of challenge you to life cycle races and you backed out and our son says they should be posted and at the light cycle track itself he wants the videos posted and played on the videos that they have there and they do play that kind of thing and today so BG is racing there now. He's going to be there in about 2 minutes and you're too late

Terry Doyle is presenting a lawsuit against you but you did to her in the mental hospital and how you got her there and what's Chris on the lawsuit and wants to talk to him about it and he wants to Sue and he wants to sue Dr Curran it was actually you and you are abusing your position you were told not to by the director of the CIA no life is love to hear your excuses in court everybody's against you and you get cleaned out the whole time when Court's going on it'll be a massive win for Massachusetts to get your influence out of there and our son says it's probably not for the money cuz it won't be that much but then again he started thinking about it it's a ton of money and he's wondering if she would accept an absentia because he can't get up there and doesn't want to go up there for that and she says yeah I'll be too hot and they take Massachusetts over so we're going to look at it and we appreciate her input and she's smart and savvy it will be way too hot it'll be there right now but nobody's there right now and he's not there and she's not there and the max needs to get beat up this is not that bad but okay just filing the lawsuit this morning and needs to talk to him. And yes email is not hard to find and I see what you're saying so I'll probably email you and you'll be really surprised and I can use some language were using. And Tim says we should probably do that he says the place will be a war zone he realizes that but it is anyways if you all be sucked in there and we get rid of the Puritan so this might explain the pirates of the Caribbean the Nina the pinta the Santa Maria :-) that's carried oil for you huh Carey Doyle for you and it's just like Carrie oh my God terrible who the hell is that. That's really not the story Carrie the story is what happened that night in that bed.

And that was my husband and Thor was saying the above with Freya and I say this somebody slept in that bed after we did it's kind of a nightmare feels weird I feel dirty and he says he feels sticky and smelly

Hera Zues

Well that's gross but we see what you're saying Trump is into that kind of stuff it's into a hot tub and not changing the water out he got sick a lot from that he'll probably start doing it now since he got dan bugs.

Dan is also going to sue and for a bunch of stuff he wants to sue him for the roof job because he didn't pay her son enough he had him work for a smaller pay than he should have and he told him to and he wasn't concerned about safety but our son was and he switched to shingles out and bitched and complained and was trying to bounce the check and was harassing him and there's some other stuff he was doing he leaves into other things and we're going to prove that he's a man dressed as a woman is harassing in the whole time that guy needs to be shot and I'm going to mention that too he fell off the roof because of him the other job then assume for that

So I'm at work cut out for me and I'm saying the whole thing sort of and I'm way top way up at the top I got to compile all these lawsuits and people want to sue them that do them and hung out with them and our son wants to sue him for Mike benedetto and construction for not paying him a correct wage for what he was doing and for having him do things incorrectly and blaming him and for poor and shoddy construction techniques and he was telling him and he was berated for it and harassed and for working to the Bone actually late hours and overtime we have a huge list we're going to sue for I'm going to bring it against him too his company and he knew the people at Sakura Tokyo when he got the job more or less so I'm going to sue for that and a****** is going down people that assume all over the place cuz they want the cash also just wants his money and he's got his money and a couple of these characters have it might have been a ditto has some of his cash but $500 he owes them it was suing for that and he says we can't he says no we can we have we sued major institutions and we have the buildings now you've been in one and we put you in the institution the mental hospital kept you there for two days an examined you it was our facility so you can try and attack it we're going to just get rid of you

Bitol and Goddess Wife

[geminidesk82]

How To Choose Coloured Contact Lens For Eyes

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Colored contacts will enhance your natural eye color whenever the mood strikes you. They outline and intensify the iris, the colored a half of your eye, by mimicking and changing the sample of your iris. By increasing https://www.magicontacts.com/blog/cheap-colored-contact-lenses-for-you on your eye, your eyes look sharper and brighter than before. To improve your look even additional, although, you’ll even have to make use of the best make-up techniques. Here are some simple eye makeup strategies that can complement your colored contact lenses. There are each vision-correcting and Plano colored contact lenses. Opaque contact lenses are the best suited choice as a result of they're specially designed with three tones that look natural and don’t permit the unique color of the eye to seem. These lenses let you experiment with different eye colours and see when you like them without committing to them long term. Color Tint – These lenses offer opaque shade that completely modifications your eye color whether or not your eyes are dark or light. If you’re on the lookout for a bold, dramatic transformation, this is the finest way to go. Air Optix Colors and FreshLook Colors are wonderful examples of color tint lenses. I actually have a quantity of hobbies that require an uncommon focal distance. Dr. Tran was very understanding and fully explained how she would make vision corrections to accommodate my present and future needs. Could not be happier with the expertise and knowledge wrapped in warmth and caring. I am even switching my youngest daughter from her present eye doctor to Dr. Reneau. This supply is applicable to the regular price of contact lenses on the order and doesn't apply to transport costs or gross sales tax. Inverse Geometry lenses have their steepest base curve within the periphery so as to match and fit post refractive corneas, hence their name. Keratoconnus corneas still have the steepest part of the cornea considerably in direction of the middle of the cornea, but advanced cones can have it within the periphery as nicely. I favor the hydrogen peroxide disinfecting methods such as Clear Care since they clear as they disinfect. The one step solutions do not clear successfully and can lead to pink eyes from a response to the protein buildup on the contact lenses. I additionally favor the cleaning agent referred to as Miraflow for those patients that become sensitive to this protein buildup. To help preserve the healthiness of your eyes and superior imaginative and prescient, it is important that you rigorously follow the directions of properly caring for your contact lenses. Clinical studies have shown that the chance of great antagonistic reactions is elevated when daily put on lenses are worn in a single day. While there isn’t a specific pair of contact lenses for light sensitivity, you can find quite a lot of eyewear choices at your local optical retailer. From an anti-reflective coating to polarized lenses, there are many choices for you. Clearly Contacts, a subsidiary of Coastal Contacts, is amongst the world's quickest growing on-line vision care suppliers. With its world class operations in North America, Europe and Asia, Coastal Contacts presents a unique blend of personal label and branded products to over one hundred fifty international locations across the globe. Already #1 in a lot of its markets, Coastal is rapidly advancing towards its aim of changing into the "World's Optical Store." Special-occasion wearers may even like every day disposable color contacts.

#Enhancement Tint Contacts