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to anyone in the areas impacted by the wildfire smoke, my #1 biggest piece of advice as someone whos been dealing with wildfire smoke in the NW united states for years, is build yourself a Corsi-Rosenthal Cube
they perform as well as expensive HEPA air cleaners, and are comparatively VERY inexpensive. all you need is a box fan, 4 air filters, a piece of cardboard, and some duct tape!!!!
i think it took us maybe a half hour to put ours together, if that, and we replace the filters every 3 months. it's really made a HUGE difference, both when the air quality is bad, but also with our allergies
Also just a handy, DIY air filter in general, if a bit bulky. For a less bulky and cheaper (but also less effective) solution, you can simply tape one filter to the fan, cut a shroud if you'd like.
just FYI, this is quite literally what the climate scientists at my work who specialized in wildfire smoke impacts recommend. it works great, it's cheap to make, and it will make a noticeable impact on your air quality.
i have asthma & keep one of these running in my room perpetually. after I set it up the difference in my sleep quality was pretty much night and day. Dont waste your time on proprietary air filters; SIMPLY bust out the duct tape
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summary: After throwing your back out, you turn to your occasional drug dealer, Dieter Bravo, for some relief. He in turn finds his own source of relief in you.
tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, DDDNE, EXPLICIT NONCON, MAJOR DON'T LIKE DON'T READ, like i am not kidding here - at no point does reader ever consent or end up enjoying this, dark!dieter, use of pet namea (doll, babe, baby), drug use, drugging (really just taking advantage of readers state), non-consensual groping, pussy pronouns, copious amounts of victim blaming, unprotected p in v, creampie
a/n: yeah, uhm so this was a fic i started two years ago after throwing my back out before a long trip and... yeah. could really only work on it during my low moments.
this is my first foray into writing non-con and it has been An Experience™️ to say the least. It's been emotional, nerve-wracking, incredibly hard at times, but most of all it is such a freeing experience for me. Very cathartic in a way. I know I don't owe anyone an explanation, dark fic can exist just because. But I am a yapper at heart (well, when no one's looking at me lol) and idk it felt good that I had the control over this story, that I was the one who decided he could say and do these nasty things and it not just be some cruel twist of fate that unfortunately a lot of us are familiar with. It was very cathartic to be the puppeteer and to be the one writing the words that were once used against me.
Title Inspo: The Dark I Know Well - Spring Awakening
you: you in town?
🍃: yeah what u need?
you: idek, tweaked my back, need something strong
🍃: i got u, come over
one brief text exchange and a 10 minute bus ride is all that stood between you and hopefully what will be sweet, sweet relief.
which is exactly what you're looking for as you knock on the door of Dieter's overpriced hotel room. besides being one of the biggest stars in Hollywood at the moment, Dieter Bravo also moonlights as your drug dealer whenever he's in town - normally you're just looking for a good time; weed, molly, shrooms, ecstasy - but now you’re in dire need of something to take the edge off
you hear rustling behind the door before it swings open, revealing a half dressed Dieter, his slightly round tummy peeking over gray lounge shorts, the only other item of clothing keeping him somewhat decent being his fluffy brown coat
he scratches his stomach as he gives you a once over before stepping aside and nodding his head in a manner gesturing you to cross the threshold into his room
you walk further into his room, scratch that, his suite, assessing the scene before you: a cozy living room area, bags and containers of different pills and powders strewn across the coffee table, a couple of lines of what you can only assume is coke already neatly laid out on the glass top. music softly playing in the background. looks like he was in the middle of a party for one when you hit him up
after closing the door, Dieter walks past you, immediately sifting through all the different drugs out on display as he nods toward the couch to your left
“go ahead and make yourself comfortable. said it was your back, yeah?”
“yeah, thanks.” you make your way over and plop down carefully on the plush couch, the soft cushions not doing much to help support your back as you sink into the pillowy surface. a spasm rings through your lower back, your body jolting in a knee-jerk response, further increasing your discomfort. god, whatever he has better be good
he continues to look through his stash, popping a random pill into his mouth, making you cringe as he easily dry swallows whatever drug of choice that was. he goes back to his search, seeming to be looking for something specific as he makes casual conversation
“so what did you do?”
you scoff, slightly embarrassed about the events that brought you here, “if you can believe it, doing laundry.”
you notice the corners of his mouth tick up slightly, a low chuckle vibrating from his throat, before he grabs a couple of pills from a bag in the pile. he stands, making his way to the mini fridge, grabbing a cold bottle of water before turning and heading towards you. he holds out both the pills and water for you to take, confusion getting the better of you
“oh, that's sweet of you, but i was just going to take them at my place.”
Dieter shakes his head slightly, “‘fraid i can't let you do that, can't take this shit unsupervised, i wouldn't feel right letting you go off on your own.”
“oh, u-um, do you have anything i could just take home with me then?” it's not that you don't trust him, but you can't ignore this feeling starting to take form in the pit of your stomach, a heavy weight triggering your fight or flight - unfortunately you were always one to freeze and fawn
he seems to weigh the options silently in his head, his eyes drifting from side to side in thought, before he gently shakes it while focusing his gaze back on to you
“i mean, i could give you something else, but compared to these bad boys anything else would do fuck-all for your pain.”
as you look at the pills in his outstretched hand everything within you is screaming to leave, just tough it out until your back stops spasm-ing. but god it hurts so much, and the remedy is right there. you bite the inside of your lip, mulling it over a second more before reaching out for the pills and water
you look up to see Dieter arching an eyebrow in amusement as you hastily uncap the water and down both pills in one gulp, suddenly afraid you're coming off as ungrateful. he gives you a once over before smirking and heading back to the other couch where he presumably was before you got there. “don’t worry doll, you're about to feel leagues better real soon.”
you stifle a nervous giggle, watching as he so smoothly snorts the two powdered white lines back to back, no break in between
"fuck, that's good," he groans, his thighs spreading open as he leans back into his seat. your eyes fall to his lap subconsciously, suddenly noting the slight outline making itself known in his gray shorts— of course he's not wearing any fucking underwear, the prick
one of his hands lays lazily on his exposed belly, his fingertips scratching the skin there off and on. Dieter coughs, your eyes flit to his face, immediately making eye contact and you flinch just a little; you've been caught. a smirk spreads across his lips and your stomach swoops, you can’t put your finger on what it is exactly, but something just doesn't feel right…
… almost like you're the last person to understand the punchline of the joke
Dieter coughs again, averting his eyes down as he attempts to wipe that goddamned stupid fucking smirk off his face. you turn your head towards your own lap, your hands fidgeting, fingers wrapping around and grasping each other in an effort to distract from your growing discomfort
it strikes you that you have never been alone with Dieter… up until now. any encounter before today had involved other people: quick fix runs with your friends, random parties every now and then when he would be in the area, but never on your own. you're not certain if it's an experience you were ever really hoping to have
it's not that you dislike Dieter… he's always nice enough. something always just felt off around him; you attributed it to your nerves about being around a movie star, whether you were a fan of his movies or not, he was still well-known. it always surprised you to see him pop up at some of the parties you had been to, felt it was a bit… odd. others thought it made him seem more down-to-earth, and you couldn't argue with that you guessed. but it never stopped feeling off somehow
but nothing felt more odd than this. sitting with Dieter alone in his hotel room, on the couch across from him, your body starting to feel heavier, your back spasm-ing in protest from the position you've slouched into. you wince, face screwing up in pain as you try to move in a more comfortable position, a frustrated whine escaping from behind your lips as the drugs start to wear down your inhibitions— your filter faltering as each second passes, your focus narrowing on getting comfortable, or at the very least getting settled in a way that doesn't anger your back
you whimper, just about ready to break down crying in all honesty when you hear Dieter chuckle again. "you doing okay over there?"
"no, not really, my back is still killing me. these pills aren't working."
your eyes flicker back up to his face, catch him pouting in your direction. he stares at you for a few more seconds before getting to his feet and walking somewhere behind you, possibly off to his room somewhere. you hear some shuffling about before Dieter pops back out, a yoga mat in hand. he shakes it out and lays it on the ground, smoothing it out with his foot until it lays completely flat. he then turns around and walks towards you
as he gets closer he reaches his hands out, you stare at him a little confused until you realize he's expecting you to take his hands. he gives you what must be his best reassuring smile, his hands coming down to wrap around yours
"c'mon doll, this will help. that couch is comfy, but not great when you've got a bad back."
he pulls you up to your feet, immediately wrapping an arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip. the pressure on your back eases slightly; you lean into his embrace a bit more, letting him take on some of your weight as he helps you towards the mat on the floor
getting down is trickier than you imagined it would be, your legs wobbling more than you were expecting. it must be the pills, and the fact that your back is still spasm-ing off and on surely can't be helping either. Dieter handles you surprisingly gently, helping you to your back, his hand cradling the back of your head as he helps you to lie down
"fuck," you whine again. it would concern you how much you were whining if it weren't for the sheer amount of pain you had found yourself in. the floor beneath you was firm, but cushioned by the mat. second by second, as your back molds to the floor, your pain starts to ease up little by little, your breathing slowing to a less alarming rate until you can finally take a deep calming breath. your body growing heavier on the exhale
"how's that? any different?"
"so much better. thank you." you're shy in your gratefulness, it felt more vulnerable than you wanted to be with this almost stranger, but he was helping you… so you could trust him, right?
you let some of your worries melt away along with the pain, urging your earlier anxieties to take a backseat, let them be. you let your eyes fall closed, feeling too heavy to hold open anymore. you take another deep breath and, on the exhale, sink further into the floor beneath you
you feel Dieter's warm hands wrap around your waist, his thumbs resting at your sides as his fingers dig into the small of your back. an involuntary moan escapes your lips, your head lolling to the side at the feeling of further relief in your back
"yeah? that feel good?"
"mmhmm."
he continues his ministrations, fingertips kneading and massaging your lower back, focusing in on a knot buried deep there. your body spasms slightly, an involuntary response to Dieter's impromptu massage— the tight muscles contract and jolt, pain and pleasure weaving together as he helps you decompress and stretch your back out
tears prick at the corner of your eyes, slowly gathering at the edge, threatening to spill over as a relief washes over you. you gasp and grasp at his forearms, dig your fingertips into him, searching for a way to deal with the intense sensations in your back
"does that hurt, baby? need me to stop?"
you shake your head, ignoring more of his pet names. honestly, the relief was overdue, he could probably get away with calling you anything right now
you whine, "no. no, please don't stop. please."
even in the blurriness of your tears, you notice a wicked grin slowly grow on Dieter's lips. a tiny spark of unease starts to settle in your skin, perhaps it's just the still present discomfort from throwing your back out. you grip his arms tighter, a surprised moan falling from your lips as Dieter finds success in getting the knot to release. firm strokes start to circle across the expanse of your lower back
Dieter lets out a low groan
"mmmm, good. that's right baby, just let go for me."
gentle sobs rack your chest, the tears finally spilling over and onto your cheeks. you can't believe the pain has finally eased up, something finally worked. soft sighs and quiet sobs fill the silence in the room as Dieter slowly moves his hands lower, dipping beneath the waistband of your bike shorts. you tense under his hold. his firm touch here almost jarring, unwelcome
he must sense your unease, he's quick to try and soothe you, almost cooing. "we gotta make sure nothing's tight here either. everything's connected."
a tiny pit of doubt takes form in your belly; you convince yourself to ignore it. chalk it up to your dramatics and overactive imagination, a thing you were always accused of having since you were young. always assuming the worst, you were once told while being scolded. you push past whatever this uncomfortable feeling trying to take over is. Dieter's only trying to help you, right?
and it feels so good to have help with this pain you've been dealing with
you ease your hold on his forearms, your hands gliding up up up towards his biceps, gripping him once again, keeping a firm hold on his muscles, feeling them contract as he continues to press into you
you moan once more as he finds a particularly angry spot on one of your cheeks, gently coaxing the ache into submission
"oh, Dieter. th-that feels good. mmm- feelss'gud on m'back." your words start to slur, but everything feels too good to care. relief this good must make your reflexes a bit slower, your body slightly heavier… right?
you feel things below you shift, Dieter pulling your ass over his spread thighs, slotting himself between your legs as he pulls you further onto his lap
"fuck baby. say it again."
the edge in his voice strikes a nerve
something's not right
"D-diet'r… w-whuu..what?"
"tell me how good I'm making you feel."
you try to shake your head, but find it too full, too heavy to move. you pinch your eyebrows and voice your distress instead
"i-i'm not fuh-feelin' t-too g-gud… I… I shu'd prolly g-go home or som'thin'," each word harder than the last, your mouth starting to feel dry, your throat starting to constrict in panic. you attempt to push at his arms, but even your hands don't seem to want to listen to you
a long beat of silence sparks a growing wave of dread. Dieter's voice is a rough, low rumble when he speaks again
"i think we both know that's not happening now, don't we?"
Dieter shifts his hips, pulls at the flesh of your ass and drags you up. the feel of his hardening cock beneath you makes your head swim. the panic quickly spreads and swells in your chest, fresh tears pricking and burning your eyes as your drug addled mind fights to catch up and process what's happening
but… this can't be happening. this is Dieter Bravo, he wouldn't…
he couldn't…
right?
"p-please—" please let me go home, please don't continue, please
but the words don't seem to form, you've lost all control over your own speech it seems. your tongue too heavy, your lips too slack
"c'mon babe, what kind of man would I be if I just let you wander out there in this… vulnerable state you've found yourself in."
you fight to keep your eyes open, watch as his own gaze scans your body slowly, his hands gripping the waistband of your shorts and underwear, gently pulling at them, rolling them down past your thighs, your knees, your calves, throwing them to the side as your lower half lays bare, exposed, on top of his lap
all you can do is quietly sob and stare, your basic motor functions failing you in the worst possible moment
get up get up get up GET UP
and yet you can't, a part of you fears you would still be frozen even without the drugs
"oooooh, now look at this."
the cold air hits the wetness between your legs. the panic rises again, but you still can't move. can't even form words to protest what you're afraid is about to happen. you have to tell him, he has to know you don't want this. surely if you were able to say anything he would stop. everyone you know loves him, he wouldn't hurt you…
his hands move slowly, almost reverently if this were happening under different circumstances, gently guiding your body back to the floor. he drops his face between your thighs, taking a deep breath before swiping at your slick with his thumb
"you're so wet babe, fuck. she clearly wants it. needs it, even. how can i tell her no when she's drooling for me, huh?"
tears continue to stream down, your eyes growing heavier by the second. you muster the strength to let out a strangled whimper, hoping against all odds if you catch his attention, if he just looks at you, he'll understand. he'll realize this- this isn't mutual, this isn't what you wanted when you came here
this isn't happening
Dieter's eyes flick up and meet yours, a small frown forming as he takes in your current state. he settles above you, one hand on the mat next to your head, the other coming up to wipe away at the tears continuing to fall down your face
"shhh, just close your eyes and let it feel good. doctor Dieter's gonna make it all better. i got just what you need right here."
as he's speaking his hand lowers to his shorts, pulling the waistband down until his cock springs free. it's only now you notice the absence of his brown coat
he can see I'm crying. he can hear I don't want this. why won't he stop?
he drags the head of his cock through your folds, spreading your wetness around
this- this isn't happening it can't be. why would he do this?
you feel him notch his tip at your entrance, slowly pushing forward
stop it. stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it—
"fuuuuck me, babe. squeezing me so tight already."
he grabs at one of your thighs with his free hand, making more room for himself as he continues to work himself deeper inside
why won't he stop? why would he do this?
a deep moan echoes above as Dieter reaches the hilt. he drops his weight to his elbows, caging you within the wide breadth of shoulders.
why is he doing this?
he nudges your head to the side with his face, exposing more of your neck to him. you feel his lips and tongue start to mouth and lick at your pulse point, feel his hips start to move as he pushes himself in and out
why?
"oh fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck. you feel so good babe. anyone ever tell you that? how tight this pussy is. driving me fucking crazy."
Dieter's whines and moans fill the air as he picks up speed. his wild pants and gasps are huffed into your skin.
just stop, please
the wet slapping of skin against skin would make you wince if you could. you can barely move, but your heart is racing. if only it would just beat out of your chest, maybe then this could finally be over
please no more
please
you're uncertain if you've lost track of time, but before too long Dieter's pace quickens. one of his hands grips your hip with a brute strength, pushing down and holding you steady
as if you could move on your own. as if you could run away now
he continues to frantically pound into you, only slowing down after his hips stutter
a wet warmth floods your walls followed by a deep, broken moan echoing in your ear
a beat
the only sound you can make out is his labored breathing
another pause, and then
"don't worry baby, you won't remember this in the morning. get some rest now."
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“So... We got the exploding diarrhea. Here's my advice for anyone who doesn't have it yet:
It's going to take a minute for the government to pin down where this is coming from, and then issue a recall, because the FDA has been gutted. But, I can tell you, without a shadow of a doubt : this is coming from Taylor Farms produce, and you will see them recalled.
You'll want to avoid all Taylor Farms produce in the grocery store. They supply McDonalds, KFC, Pizza Hut, about any fast food place you can think of.
Raspberries, watermelons, cilantro, and the veggies you're hearing about are not causing this many people to get sick. It's the shredded lettuce, specifically, that's the problem. But, you'll want to stay away from every type of produce this company puts out, because one strand of shredded lettuce is all it takes to contaminate bushels.
Taylor Farms is the source. Taco Bell proactively pulled their produce from their restaurants. You're going to see other fast food places doing this, and probably will see that before the government names a source. The FDA knows this, but they can't come out and tell us all until there's proof, which takes resources and research, which takes manpower, but the FDA has been cut by about 20-30%
During the Biden term, onions at McDonald's had ecoli. We knew this because DNA testing was done quickly and they were able to narrow it down to one place that caused the outbreak. And, it was traced back to Taylor Farms. This isn't going to be solved as quickly though.
When you get this, make a virtual appointment to your PCP - a "same day sick" appointment. Tell them someone in your family just tested for this and was positive and was prescribed Bactrim. If you go in person, they're probably going to make you poop in a cup and wait until results come back to prescribe.
You'll know when you get this. Trust me on all of this.
You'll want to stay hydrated because this parasite damages the lining of the small intestine. Your small intestine, in turn, secretes more water into the gut, and less nutrients and liquid are able to remain in the body. So no matter how much you shit, you're going to want to drink. A day of this leads to dehydration if you don't increase your fluid intake, and a few days will land you in the hospital.
If you have headaches, weakness, muscle cramps, dizziness, or an increase heart rate - hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Go to the ER for fluids if you can't drink enough.
Thank you for coming to my Ted talk. Brought to you by America's 250 birthday celebrations, workforce reduction in the FDA and CDC, and viewers like you.
Please feel free to share this.
And, MAGA - don't blow up the comment section. I argued with y'all on COVID bc I was afraid y'all would die, but I really don't care if you get explosive diarrhea.
- you’re gay
- can read
- support gay people
- want to hold a match between your fingers as you wander the halls of an ancient castle because it’s your only source of light amidst the ghosts of people long past
- are an antelope
- or want a chocolate bar.
I keep seeing this shit all over today, from Trump and others, and I just keep thinking--burned into the back of my eyelids, I dream about it, is this twenty-second video clip I saw when LA was on fire last year. I was born in Anaheim, so the fires hit me hard. I saw video after video of my home on fire, I was checking base with a dozen Californian friends every day because nobody was sure where they were going to end up, and in the midst of this wailing horror, where I would wake and sleep and both would feel much the same, came this video.
It was a hillside, viewed across a gully. The recorder was on one ridge, looking out over the hills. It was late at night, and that mattered not at all, because the picture was ablaze with light. There was so much fire.
Fire's noisy, you know, if you haven't seen the recordings coming out in their hundreds from that nightmare. Fire roars, it screams as it devours all the oxygen it can get to and makes it into more of itself, so at first I couldn't hear the airplane. When it appeared, engine roaring, very low over the ridge, there was only a moment to understand what it even was before it dropped its payload of water on the burning hillside, and all at once the picture went out. The fire went out. The screaming brightness was replaced with gentler dark. In an instant.
The airplane was one of the Canadian Super Scoopers, piloted by a Canadian fire pilot of incredible skill--you know what kind of mastery it takes, to fly a plane that size, that low to the ground, at night, in a place where it's being buffeted by horrific and uneven fire-spawned updrafts and turbulence, carrying a payload of over fourteen thousand pounds of water, and then to dump that weight and still be able to fly straight instead of being suddenly slammed around by the weight change? And this was a person who with others like him had come to California to fight a fire that had nothing to do with them, for no reason other than human fucking decency.
When I saw the video the first time I burst into sobs. I have cried more than once thinking of it since, feeling again that incredible relief as the light went out. My home was on fire. I couldn't be there to do anything about it; it doesn't belong to me anymore. And here came brave strangers to save it.
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