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#being out in the crowds no mask
yourbabies-thenmine · 2 years
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Pride wasn’t fun
I got an invite to go to No Requests but when I got there I couldn’t find the girl who invited me and i wasn’t vibing or getting hit on
So I started walking to a new place and ended up walking the wrong direction and ubering to Silverado
Silverado said gay night club on maps so I thought cool, maybe somewhere to dance with friendlier people
There were friendly people in line but getting inside it was a literal bar upstairs and dancing place downstairs
Except they spent like 15 min with drag queens handing out hats (snore) and then some guys in underwear started dancing by the stripper poles. Again, fine, yay pride, but it took all of two seconds for them to be flashing their whole limp penises and taking dollar bills in their g strings.
I get pride is gay and gay things happen but it didn’t feel very lesbian friendly. It did reaffirm my repulsion to white men no matter how conventionally attractive
I did wait in another bar from my Uber and there was a drunk bartender being nice to me but she hit me with the “my husband” phrase and I was out
My Uber was trying to be nice but he was doing the toxic positivity thing and not letting me just have a bad night have to make tons of assumptions about me and what I’m doing ugh
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ophernelia · 27 days
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i went to a fashion show today for one of my old mentees and baby… i don’t miss that scene at all. his showcase was great! he did an amazing job with his recent collection. that wasn’t the issue. that whole backstage life i really don’t miss. too fast paced. too much noise. i just was ready to go. i feel like i just got off a rollercoaster. i don’t wanna do that again.
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landlordevil · 7 months
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and it really is so frustrating bc i'll tangentially see people hitting clubs weekly and going to huge events unmasked and they're like "live your life!! go outside!!" and it's like idc how many boosters i get getting a bad case of covid just once could still fuck me over big time. and remember that you can give it to others? you don't just have yourself to think about?
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laurelwinchester · 7 months
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so. my month from hell got worse. my grandfather died last night. he died of complications from covid.
put on a goddamn mask, people.
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galactikburzt · 4 months
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Truth be told i would really love to be a standup comedian
I think we actually do need more comedians in the world
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senseiwu · 1 year
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Lmao remembering when I told my dad that when i got covid, it was, interestingly enough, after I went into the shops without my mask.
Now, I can't say for certain that thats what caused it. Maybe he is right and it was a coincidence.
But... I haven't gotten sick since, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ what do I know
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fishthegenderwitch · 9 months
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Was talking to She roommate the other day, saying that I'm pretty sure years of [multiple bad things I did wrong] caused me to have a fucked up left hip, so I've basically forgotten how I'm supposed to walk, and nothing I do seems to be making it adjust to "non-painful walking".
She then asked if I'm "doing silly walks, or more like" and sent me this gif:
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YUP. there it is. How I walk now.
It's shiggy wiggy time
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bitchking-of-angmar · 5 months
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I know it has been said, but man, as a first time covid experiencer, can't recommend. and they gave me the mild stuff I hear
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Well I have my bag packed for tomorrow. I found an outfit I don’t think I’ll get too upset in.
Have my portable charger. Just had a shower. Fingers crossed tomorrow goes well and I don’t freak out too much
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kittyhazelnut · 10 months
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I fear I've made a grave mistake
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youssefguedira · 8 months
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so so sleepy
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shrinewreck-moving · 2 years
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u know what. as much as i love my irl friends it DOES kinda suck that they make fun of my interests and my constant fatigue and my need for longer time to socially recharge compared to everyone else. idk how to get them to take me seriously without making them feel like i’m starting an argument v_v
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storm-of-feathers · 1 year
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playing with god by pouring out nyquil and whatever comes out is what i take
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oimatchstickman · 2 years
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Do I like that I’m burnt out on covid news and that I literally cannot take in any more information about this freaking virus or I will have at least a minor breakdown? Nope.
Am I gonna do anything to change that? Also no. Mostly because people have not figured out how to talk to people who were really good about masking, ect. but just cannot deal with that any more vs. the people who never did those things.
I am Tired. I know it’s not good that I Am Done With It. But I am.
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cellobotomy · 4 months
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.
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oceantornadoo · 3 months
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protective ex-husband!simon, implied violence/break-in
“i know! and that’s when i told her-“ you paused, your hand halfway to the keys at the bottom of your purse. your apartment door was open, a menacing sliver of darkness awaiting you. “hey, i’m going to have to call you back.” you ended the call with your friend, slowly backing away from your door. shit. you knew you locked the door when you left for work, and no one else had a copy of your key. a creeping sensation came over you, like someone was watching from within. slowly, you retreated, taking the elevator down to your apartment’s lobby as the anxiety crawled through your body. you wracked your brain, wondering if you should call the police. wondering if they would even believe you. there was only one call to make.
“come on, pick up.” you tapped your foot impatiently as your ex husband took forever to answer the phone. it was all you could do to not think about your home being violated, about a potential stalker or date gone wrong.
“‘ello?”
“si- simon, it’s me.”
“i know, lovie. that’s why i picked up.” you let out a quiet sob of relief at his voice, the bottle on your emotions starting to leak.
“what’s wrong?” his voice changed, immediately hearing your silent tears. he could always read you too well. “i don’t want to bother you but” you hiccupped. shit. “but my apartment door was open and i’m pretty sure i closed it, i usually do. i don’t know if im being silly but now im in the lobby and im just scared, simon.” there was a fumbling sound, the echoes of simon zipping up his jacket and pulling on his shoes.
“go to that cafe across the street, dove. go get yourself one of those overpriced hot chocolates. i’ll be there in 15.”
9 minutes later, your shaking hands were tapping random patterns on the cafe table, unable to raise your drink to your mouth without spilling it. your eyes were locked onto the wood grain, counting lines to distract yourself.
suddenly, a gloved hand covered yours. you looked up and there he was, your ghost in all his glory. you forgot everything for a second, forgot the past arguments and the strained silences, and flung yourself into his arms. you breathed in his comforting scent of pinewood that masked his cigarettes, a cologne you got him four years ago for christmas. your face was wet, and as he pulled you back to check you for injuries, his thumb brushed a stray tear away from your face. you didn’t even realize you were crying.
“‘s okay, baby. i’m here now. give me your keys.” you fumbled for your keys, purse strap sliding off your shoulder as your hands shook too much to keep it balanced. simon caught it gracefully, finding your keys in the same pocket you always kept them. “stay here. i’ll be back.” you nodded instinctively. only when you saw his figure retreat to your apartment building, clothed in all black like a figure of death, you realized you hadn’t told him your new apartment number.
twenty minutes passed. simon’s presence had worked like medicine as your heart rate has now dropped back down to normal, your hands stable enough to finish your drink. any other person would be worried for simon’s safety, but you knew the only person you should be concerned for was your intruder.
“you’re stayin’ with me tonight.” he was back, looking exactly the same. he wasn’t even winded. “thank you simon, but don’t be ridiculous. i can get a hotel. you live so far from my work anyways.” he approached you, crowding into your space as he leaned over you, even with a cafe table in between. “consider it payment then.” he tilted your chin up with his left hand as he hid his other one, covered with blood, in his pocket. “one way or another, you’re in my bed tonight, dove.” you gulped at that. “and i’ve got riley in the car. you wouldn’t abandon him, would you?” of course he had gotten your cat when he checked out your apartment. riley hated men, but never simon. cheeky bastard.
“you win.”
fast forward a couple of hours and you were getting ready for bed at simon’s, belly full from the meal he had made you. riley made himself at home on the living room couch, of course. “he’s in my spot.” you gestured to your cat on the couch. “wha’ d’ya mean?” your husband simon was now in sweats and sweats only, clean from the shower he had after you both got home back to his place. you pretended not to see him methodically wash blood out of his fingernails, reasoning quite easily with yourself that it was for a good cause.
“my couch for tonight.” simon moved toward you and you avoided his eyes, trying not to stare at how beautiful he still was. muscular but thick, torso adorned with scars you used to trace on sunday mornings when you both stayed in bed until the afternoon. he gripped your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. “told’ya you were in my bed tonight, dovie.” you swallowed and he watched your throat move, memories of you swallowing something else countless times rising to the surface.
“don’t be silly, simon. that would cross a line.”
“what line?” his arms were crossed now, drawing your attention to an unfamiliar tattoo right above his heart. a small dove.
“we’re not together anymore, simon.”
“you’re still my wife.”
silence. he was always like this, pushing you until you broke. he was unwilling to compromise, even on the smallest of issues. usually you’d fight him, spit fire until you lost your voice. tonight though, you were reminded of how he was the only person you were able to call, the only one committing dark sins without asking, all for your safety. instead, you threw your hands up and walked into his bedroom, mechanically stripping as you put on one of his shirts and a pair of boxers. you felt his eyes on you, burning a hole through the fabric. you were tired, so tired of this push and pull.
“what.” you whipped around, all venom. his eyes were impossibly soft, holding yours with a peaceful caress. “you’re as beautiful as the day i lost you.” your fire went out at that. “you’re just trying to get me naked.” you mumbled, looking down as you fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. you watched as his body came into view, pressing your forehead against his bare skin.
“could see you in a thousand layers and you’d still be the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen, dove.” ever so slowly, your hands crept up his body to grab his shoulders and neck. he picked you up with ease, turning the lights off and tucking you both in bed. “when did you get the tattoo?” you asked in the dark.
“3 months and 12 days ago.” what would have been your 3rd year of marriage, your anniversary. you lowered your head and gave him a kiss right where the tattoo was. “can we talk about it in the morning?” you snuggled into him, that familiar scent calming you once again. “always, dove.” he kissed your forehead, smiling in the dark.
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idk why im obsessed with the break-in and simon to the rescue trope but its fueling me lately
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