In one misfortunate year I ended up getting into several car accidents. It cemented my general fear and anxiety in cars, because in each case I was either in the car but not driving or driving safely when suddenly something hit me.
One was my ex driving in an unfamiliar city and cutting someone off on accident that resulted in a sideswipe. Another was getting rear ended when I came to a required stop.
The last was when I had a green arrow at an intersection. I turned and was smashed into by someone running a red light, T-boning my little car.
Dazed and in shock I tottered out of the car to behold a crusty older man eating a donut step out of the offending vehicle. A fire truck arrived to block us off from traffic since my car could no longer move under its own power.
“Were you on your way home from work?” The firemen asked me.
I shook my head, struggling to focus on them, “No,” I said vaguely, “I was on my way home from volunteering at the animal shelter.”
In an instant they were closing ranks around me, glaring at the ambivalent donut man who would dare to hit a tiny frail angel who volunteered at the animal shelter. They asked if I needed to get anything out of my car. I did.
“It’s… uh. It’s a little weird though.”
They gestured for me to proceed. I grabbed a bag with snacks and books and filled it with things I couldn’t just leave in my car. Last out I pulled my cutlass.
“Is that a sword?!”
It was. They were instantly like giant puppy dogs, excited and delighted but trying to mind their manners. The bravest said, “Can we…?” I held out the sword. They whooped with delight, unsheathing and marveling at it.
“Why do you have that in your car?”
“I honestly don’t remember, it’s just a fun thing to have at a party now.”
“Is your wrist okay?”
My shock was wearing off and I realized I was cradling my wrist to my chest. “Oh.” I rummaged into my bag and pulled out a wrist brace.
“Wh….why do you already have that?” I was starting to confuse the firemen. I volunteered with cats, had a sword offhand, and kept a wrist brace in my car bag.
“Sometimes I try to hold books in a way that sprains my wrist? So I have this in my car just in case.”
They stared at me. Maybe, like my wife, they assumed it was for masturbation induced injuries. They handed my sword back as the tow truck arrived and thanked me for letting them play with it. They gave donut man one last glare and drove their big truck away.
Jinshi @ maomao: i !!! will !!! marry !! you!! you are perfection incarnate, the aPPle of my ✨eye✨ the most beautiful goddess i have ever seen !! i am uncontrollably in love with you !!!! please step on ME
Maomao: sry dude didn’t catch that, checkout this herb over here tho😍🥰!!!!
I don’t know why this is something we apparently need to re-explain to parts of the CR fandom every few years, but if I see one more post that implies that the way Samuel Oscar Riegel is approaching his character’s faith journey is “culturally Christian” I’m gonna McFucking lose it.
Think I’m making communication a non-negotiable for 2024. If you don’t know how to properly communicate like an adult we quite literally can’t be friends
Good afternoon/evening/night everyone! I hope you’re well! I need $500 dollars for bills. I’ve started my new job but I’m barely getting by because that automatically went to paying the rest of my rent. I’m also doing instacart, but I don’t know that I’ll have enough money in time next week. Please donate and reblog if you can please!!!
If I see one more fucking idiot make this stupid “argument” on this post again I’m turning off reblogs because this is the 900th moron comparing ships to guns as if there’s no fucking difference between a weapon designed with the intention to kill/hurt people and a vehicle. It’s a weapon you dumb piece of shit it has no purpose other than to kill people. In what fucking way is that in any way similar to a mode of transportation. “Oh you see an airplane and an atomic bomb are exactly the same because they can both be used to hurt people” ass take. I hate this post I just wanted to admire some sexy ships with their pretty sails and their wood I have gunfuckers in my notes because of it
This was supposed to be for an au that I honestly just never shared.
side not: after I wrote this it kinda turned into a (terribly written) story and less of an explanation, so sorry for that
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whole point of it was that a small, little thing that Wally and what would be the rest of the neighbors (along with you or whoever else you’d like to image it would be) were additionally running a small puppet show that would air on Sundays Thursdays from 7am to 9am on a rather unknown channel.
though by the time it gained any popularity, even if just a little piece of some sort of fame. The main writer and voice actor was killed
And right in the studio as well, which left a bloody mess.
none of the others could continue the show. They couldn’t live with the idea they’d be working in the same studio their friend was brutally killed in.
so they left.
but Wally’s soul didn’t. He was still there. Unaware of his own death but aware enough to understand he couldn’t find a single other person.
And he was confused, but by the time he understood some of the situation of not being able to leave or find a single person, he was just mad and scared.
why would they leave him so alone?
He needed to see them. He needed to find them. They couldn’t just do this to him.
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this was the additional ending that I hated myself for
well he pulled a Joey
and drew out a plan and letter
Get it?
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if you couldn’t tell by now yes this was partially based off bendy and the ink machine.
I’m so sorry you’ve all had to witness what I’ve write but I’m laughing my ass off about my own jokes
Anyone have tips for safely catching stray cats and kittens? The owner of the mother has figured out where mama cat wandered off to and will take them all off of my hands, but I can’t get them all at once. 😬😭