well now i’m on an aliens kick. also, i just went in my kitchen to get some ice water and walked in on a fucking roach orgy because no matter how much i clean this apartment is fucking ghetto so let’s talk about how aliens would react to human pest control methods.
“Why is Stacy cleaning the dishware? We have cleaning robots to do that for her,” asked Qwerty (his full name was much, much longer, but because it was written with every letter of one of the more commonly used human alphabets, and something about early digital communications, the humans on the I.S. Dastallria had given him the nickname).
Xorzit’ket shrugged as best as her anatomy could manage the borrowed gesture. “Why don’t you go ask her?”
holster: dude, which of these ties for the banquet?
ransom: well, I’d say this one looks better with your suit, but that one brings out those beautiful baby blues, bro
nursey: how can you not appreciate this? it’s ART, man! it’s a huge fuck-you to society’s standards, to their rules, to their total control over how we all have to look and talk and think!
dex: just admit that you put your shirt on inside out by accident
shitty: as she simultaneously tackles and proves herself in yet another field of art, this is clearly some of ms. duan’s most inspiring work yet. the composition, the lighting, the sheer beauty of the subject-
lardo: all i asked was if you thought this selfie was good enough for instagram
bitty: what the HELL, jack. i thought you were my FRIEND. i thought you had my back. i thought you were my captain, i thought i could trust you…but you betrayed me. get out of my kitchen. i can’t look at you right now. i need to be alone
jack: bits, all i did was accidentally buy margarine
farmer: i was super into yu-gi-oh when i was a kid
chowder: damn that’s weird because i’m super into YOU-gi-oh right now
farmer: that was terrible and i love you
jack: where are a double double and a box of timbits when you need them, eh?
ransom: ugh i know
bitty: what language is this
holster: if i staged a one man production of legally blonde the musical would you come see it
ransom: yes but you have to come to my one man show of wicked
lardo: if you could have dinner with any person who died who would you have it with? i think i’d pick frida kahlo
shitty: whoever invented weed
jack: when i was little i used to have nightmares about global warming because i was afraid the ice would all melt so i couldn’t play hockey anymore
bitty: that is simultaneously adorable and heartbreaking
dex: okay so you literally know how to knit but the minute i play any journey music I’M the old man
nursey: i’m classy old. i’m a gracefully aging angela bassett. you’re a white dad at a barbecue whose secret spice is pepper
So I’m cuddling my cat and all of a sudden I hear this loud ass meow come from my kitchen and it sounded exactly like him. Like don’t get me wrong, cats can sound alike but… my kitchen???? I only have one cat and there’s no way another cat can have access to get inside. On top of that, Tiger is an indoor cat so it’s not like he took another cat inside. So excuse me while I go hide myself in my room until someone else wakes up.
Now that’s some @sixpenceee shit.
please please write a drabble version of your post about aaron distracting robert from cooking!
your wish is my command, anon! a soppy drabble version of this post i made when i was mid-meltdown about how beautiful the mill kitchen is.
“You know,” Robert commented, glancing at Aaron as he stirred the sauce carefully, half an eye on the hob. “We’ve got a perfectly good kitchen table.”
Aaron grinned, at a slight height advantage as he sat on one of their kitchen counters, wearing a pair of tracksuit bottoms, and an old jumper of Robert’s, the sleeves too long on him. Robert would never admit it aloud, but he found Aaron’s habit of pulling his sleeves down over his hands endearing, and even more so when Aaron did it with Robert’s clothes.
(As long as it wasn’t one of his nicer jumpers. The one occasion Aaron had stolen on of Robert’s favourite Ted Baker jumpers and yanked the sleeves down after his wrists had nearly given Robert a legitimate heart attack, Aaron oblivious to the reasoning behind Robert’s meltdown.)
“We’ve got a lovely kitchen,” Aaron agreed, reaching out to steal another piece of the chorizo Robert had on a chopping board, neatly sliced into small pieces. “But I like sitting here.”
Robert rolled his eyes, slapping Aaron’s hand out of the way so he could add the chorizo to the pot he was slaving over. “You’re a child, you know that?” he commented, heart swelling at the bright smile on Aaron’s face as they teased each other.
It had taken them a long time to get to where they were now, happy, and solid, building a real life together. It had taken months, and months, and hours of counselling, and hard conversations, and more than one screaming match, but they’d gotten there.
Of course they’d gotten there.
Their love, the way they felt about each other, it wasn’t something that could just be pushed aside or forgotten, it wasn’t something to just be moved on from. If it had ever been that simple, their affair would never have gotten out of hand the way it had, they wouldn’t have fallen so desperately in love with each other they way they had.
Their love was worth it.
“You love it.” Aaron laughed, reaching for his half drunk cup of tea. It was a quiet Saturday evening, Liv over at Gabby’s, the two of them with the flat to themselves for once. “Anyway, it’s your fault for picking out cabinets that are perfect sitting height.”
warning: triggers apply. adult language, sexual themes, violence, offensive subjects, offensive behaviors. please read & reblog with caution.
❛ And what exactly does “hooked up” mean? ❜
❛ It’s like a car wreck… you can’t not watch. ❜
❛ What’s that smell? It’s either vomit or fancy cheese. ❜
❛ There is no God. We’re all gonna die. ❜
❛ The hell? You’re supposed to negotiate! ❜
❛ If you’re looking for money, I don’t have any yet. ❜
❛ How do you feel about metal splinters to the eye? ❜
❛ Are you up-to-date on your rabies shots? ❜
❛ I don’t like that you’re getting hurt on purpose to make money. ❜
❛ You’re kidding me? You’re actually serious about this shit? ❜
❛ You’re kinda growing on me. ❜
❛ Wanna see how fast I can unhook your bra? ❜
❛ You make my life a living hell and I want you out of here now. ❜
❛ Half of the world has penises, why do people get so upset about seeing them? ❜
❛ You’re nothing but a warm mouth to me. ❜
❛ I think I’m depressed. I’ve been feeling kind of funky lately. ❜
❛ I never said it was yours. You just wanted it to be. ❜
❛ Wouldn’t be the first time somebody’s disappointed me. ❜
❛ I don’t mean to be an asshole. It’s just… genetic. ❜
❛ Fuck you is what you were invited to. ❜
❛ I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of pussy you’d be in juvie. ❜
❛ I want normal people problems. Like, am I getting enough fiber? ❜
❛ Hey, I think I just insulted myself. ❜
❛ Hey! What the fuck man! He’s/she’s dead! ❜
❛ Oh, could you be a little more vague? ❜
❛ You came all the way down here to talk about my pubes? ❜
❛ How the fuck do you not have a gun? ❜
❛ Sure you’re ready to pop your armed robbery cherry? ❜
❛ You should have seen your face. ❜
❛ You don’t know who you messed with, bitch. ❜
❛ You fuck with the bull, you get an ass full of horns! ❜
❛ I’m not used to having people yell at me all day long. ❜
❛ I have this friend. I think you two might really hit it off. ❜
❛ I’ve seen you put out after the first drink. ❜
❛ You know, I’d hug you but neither of us would like that. ❜
❛ I don’t get why just don’t use her/his face for target practice. ❜
❛ I want a fucking lawyer motherfucker! ❜
❛ You’re covering your own ass and you know it. ❜
❛ You know I used a condom. ❜
❛ Do you know where I can buy a gun? ❜
❛ You think you scare me? Bring it, bitch! ❜
❛ I’m starting to get fucking homicidal. ❜
❛ I will make this kitchen my bitch. ❜
❛ They’re having a party for kids across the street. No booze. ❜
❛ A shrink at school says I’m one of God’s mistakes. ❜
❛ I believe the answer to that question, like the answer to most questions, is fuck you! ❜
❛ Did the two of us finish an entire gallon of box wine the other night? ❜
❛ I can’t handle anything up my ass without alcohol! ❜
❛ I’d be crying right now if I wasn’t so high. ❜
❛ I’m not my dad. You hear me? I’m not my fucking dad! ❜
❛ I would never do half the shit that you’ve done to us. Why are you even here? ❜
❛ Even the homeless get better stuff than us. ❜
❛ I am just as likely as anyone of this family to make something of myself. ❜
❛ You want to get shit faced in the middle of the day. ❜
❛ You have no money yet you’re going into a grocery store. Interesting. ❜
❛ Let’s go get drunk and buy a gun. ❜
❛ It’s a shame when someone you love gets taken away, isn’t it? ❜
❛ If this is a relationship you wanna save, then you gotta fucking save it. ❜
❛ Off to deal drugs on a Saturday morning? ❜
❛ I’m probably biased, you deserve better than him. ❜
❛ If you don’t get out right now, I will shoot you. ❜
❛ Still don’t want your family to know? ❜
❛ Did I mention that I’m falling in love with you? ❜
❛ You can’t feel a persons headache by touching his head. ❜
❛ Are you robbing me with my own fucking gun? ❜
❛ How can you tell when you’re in love with someone? ❜
❛ Is that supposed to be some kind of insult? ❜
❛ I’m done living the way other people want me to live. ❜
❛ I think I was trying to prove something, not to you but to myself. ❜
❛ If it wasn’t sex then what was the problem? ❜
❛ What do you want me to say? That I’m self-destructive? ❜
❛ Random destruction makes you think of me? ❜
❛ I haven’t abused marijuana like the rest of you, so yes I remember. ❜
❛ Your turf? What is this West Side Story? ❜
❛ All I’m gonna be thinking about while you choke me out is how much I love you. ❜
❛ If I don’t invest in myself, no one else will. ❜
❛ It smells worse than a dead hooker’s ass in there. ❜
❛ I don’t wanna be me anymore. ❜
❛ Why would anyone go to the zoo sober? ❜
❛ I’ve had so many abortions the next one is free. ❜
❛ I’d trade my left nut for one more hour of sleep. ❜
❛ How do you do that? The nice thing? ❜
❛ I’m sick of living in your shadow. ❜
❛ I never thought I’d say this but you were right. ❜
❛ Where can I get knives and blunts? ❜
❛ I can’t share a room with someone in constant state of arousal! ❜
❛ I’m sneaking antibiotics into his toothpaste just in case. ❜
❛ I got tasered for like a second and I crapped myself. ❜
❛ I’ve never seen you put on deodorant before. ❜
❛ I haven’t had a drink for two days…well granted I was unconscious. ❜
❛ I’ll be in the bushes across the street stalking you. ❜
❛ Is there anything more enjoyable on earth than humiliating your peers? ❜
❛ I need to buy a gun. For protection. In case there’s a shooting here. I’m scared. ❜
❛ It’s my job to tell you when you’re making a huge mistake. ❜
❛ Have you ever woken up naked in the street with no idea how you got there? ❜
❛ You’re either boning or you’re waiting to bone. ❜
❛ Doctors are thieves, they just have degrees to keep them out of jail. ❜
❛ You want me to be realistic? Okay, I’ll be realistic. ❜
❛ I confided in you and you told everyone. ❜
❛ I have no idea what that means but I’m enjoying trying to picture it. ❜
❛ I never made any fucking promises to you! ❜
you’re okay. it’s going to be okay. i know that it can feel hopeless. i know that the world can feel too big and you can feel too small but you are so much more than the minuscule thing that you think you are. you are an incredibly important fixture in this place that always seems to be changing. you are a necessary piece. despite what you may think, you are more than your flaws. you are more than your mistakes. you are more. you are more.
you are a world inside of a world and your meaning is larger than you can possibly fathom.
Ace Dex combating the casual aphobia that we all deal with at some point.
“Dude, you’ve never done the nasty?”
Dex rolled his eyes, hard. Whiskey’s tone was just this side of shocked, and it made Dex was to take back the fact that he had said anything at all. It wasn’t exactly that he expected the team to be more understanding than other people, but he hoped that was the case, anyway.
On top of that, Whiskey managed to catch the attention of Ransom and Holster, who were walking past, heads close together.
“Wait, what’s this about someone never smuggling the ol’ bone?”
Ransom gave Holster a critical look, then grinned in that way that only someone on the wrong side of tipsy can. “Playing hide the sausage.”
Holster countered quickly with, “Making the beast with two backs.”
“Assault with a friendly weapon.”
“Entangling the lower beards.”
“Joint sessions of Congress.”
Holster held out a fist. “Bro, pound it out for that one.”
With a solemn nod, Ransom offered tapped his fist to Holster’s. Dex hoped that their (truly awful) back and forth would distract them from what was going on, but instead they plopped onto the couch to join in the conversation. Well, they pushed their way onto the couch, which was already too full, Ransom on one end and Holster in the middle of Nursey and Dex.
Whiskey pointed in Dex’s general direction, and told the captains, “Apparently, Dex has never had sex.”
Holster threw a big arm around Dex’s shoulder and turned toward him. Dex could smell tub juice wafting off of him. “Dex! My dude. My man. Bro. We gotta resolve this.”
“It’s not a problem. There’s nothing to resolve.”
On the other side of Holster, Dex could see his boyfriend’s concerned face. Nursey knew that Dex’s sexuality (well, his asexuality) was still a touchy subject. On the best of days, it was hard for him to have a conversation about. On the days after a game loss and with a group of drunken and less than subtle frat boys, well…. Chances were that it wasn’t going to go well.
“No, but Dex. Dexy. Dex. Sex is so good. Tell ‘im, Rans, tell him about… Shit, what’s a good one for Dex? Crab fishing in the dead sea.”
Dex scrunched up his face. “Dude, that’s fucking gross. And no, whatever fucking euphemism you use, the answer is no.”
On the other side of Holster, Nursey stood up and held a hand out to Dex, and yeah, that sounded like a better idea than having a discussion about life choices with a very drunk Holster. Dex pushed off the couch with a solid fist to Holster’s thigh, maybe a little harder than strictly necessary. He followed Nursey under the caution tape and up the stairs to Chowder’s room.
They spent the rest of the not-kegster (because apparently it could only be a kegster if they won the game) hiding out, watching Brooklyn-99. Dex could feel Nursey sending him concerned looks, but he ignored them. They fell asleep together, cuddling on the thin mattress.
I am a single adult human living in a house with two corgis. Got Girldog from a shelter when she was about a year, year and a half old maybe; got Boydog a few years later as an 8-week puppeh. And let me tell you something, from Day One, this has been a three-way psychological experiment. I no longer know who is manipulating who on a daily basis.
One of the first things I trained Girldog to do was not to bark at the dinner table; if she barked at me while I was eating, I put her in The Quiet Place (her crate) where she couldn’t see me. She learned almost immediately to subvocalize her barks, to let out a breath with just enough vocal cord vibration that I wouldn’t QUIIIITE consider it a bark and move her further away from the food. It’s a sound like this: “Hrrrr. Hrrrr. Hhhrahhh.” I didn’t realize how odd this was until my aunt came over and said, “That dog hissed at me.” “Yes,” I said, “she does that.”
Boydog learned to do tricks by watching Girldog. I never taught him to sit. He learned by watching Girldog get a treat for sitting. Once, I told both dogs to sit at the same time, while I held a treat in each hand. When Girldog didn’t sit quick enough, Boydog put his paw on her butt and pushed her down.
I hung a bell on the door and taught Boydog to ring it when he wants to go out. Girldog sees no reason she should ring the bell, as it is beneath her dignity, and she can get her way by barking instead. Boydog, however, will ring the bell for Girldog when she lurks around by the door, although he has no interest in going outside himself. Girldog has made Boydog her personal slave in this matter.
Boydog rings the bell when he doesn’t need to go out but thinks I have been at my computer too long. By the time I get to the kitchen, he’s nowhere near the door, but hey mom, as long as you’re up, let’s play! He obviously does not believe I can see through this extremely clever ploy.
Girldog once climbed onto a sofa, crossed the back of it, leapt from the sofa to my desk chair, leapt from the chair to the desk, and knocked all my stuff off the desk. (I wasn’t there, but it was obvious from the trail of destruction what route she had taken.) Then she got down and proceeded to ignore the bag of corn chips she’d encountered and focus her attention on biting my phone charger in half, chewing up a USB memory stick, and eating a pen. I still have no idea how she could be so smart and so dumb at the same time.
Boydog will chase a laser pointer (not uncommon for dogs introduced to them as puppies! Pro tip) but only when Girldog is not around, because she hates it for some reason and will tackle him for it. Girldog also likes to be outside while I want to be in, and Boydog prefers to have us both inside. Boydog will lead me to the laser pointer, pester me until I get it down, and then run around chasing the laser and barking madly. No matter how stubborn Girldog has been about staying outside, she wants to know what he’s barking at and immediately comes inside. (It is always the laser pointer he’s barking at, Girldog. Always.)
There is a chair in my bedroom that I cannot sit on. The dogs take turns sleeping on it, depending on who gets there first. The only hard and fast rule is that if the human sits on the chair, they will both lose their cool. The chair is for dogs only. I have not even tried to sit on the chair for about six months now.
I suspect I’ll be adding more of these as the three of us continue to train each other.