
#extradirty
Today's Document
YOU ARE THE REASON
Cosmic Funnies
cherry valley forever
art blog(derogatory)
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
i don't do bad sauce passes

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

if i look back, i am lost
Not today Justin
Mike Driver

titsay
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

ellievsbear
Xuebing Du

Andulka

Discoholic 🪩
wallacepolsom

seen from Malaysia
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seen from United States

seen from Netherlands
seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Singapore
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seen from Singapore

seen from United Kingdom
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seen from United Kingdom
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@samanthcalcott

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margjohns:
Margaret went to a dance club, trying to explore more of the city and break out of her shell. She had a few drinks and was walking along the wall by the dance floor, trying to squeeze her way through the crowd. She got outside of the club and took in a deep breath of the crisp October air, smelling faintly of dried urine. She turned to someone else who seemed outside for a break. “Do you want to dance?” she asked.
Being twenty-one meant that she was permitted to access places she had never once dreamed of venturing before and that, precisely, was what Sam had been subtly doing over the past few weeks after her birthday. She hadn’t dipped in too much with alcohol just yet, knowing how much it had wrecked both her parents and older siblings, and instead focusing on inspecting joints that would have barricaded her admission a while ago. This dance club in particular seemed to be an all-age one, but still, there was an additional sense of security in knowing that she would not have to worry any longer about being cared if she happened to weave about too far. Still, even in her current age, Samantha remained to possess her age-old uncertainity, only skirting around before she ended up outside again, a drink clinched between her grip. Sprightly establishments like these didn’t feel as enjoyable without her girlfriend or, at the very least, someone that she knew with her. However, upon hearing a rather familiar voice, Samantha felt herself perking up; turning to see someone she hadn’t seen in awhile. “I can’t, sorry. I’m terrible with dancing.” She chuckled, taking a rather petite sip. “Margaret, how have you been?”
anabvlle:
She was running on fumes today, no amount of coffee was going to save her if she expected to last to the end of her late shift at the club tonight. The dinner service at Hell’s Kitchen had been a double, back-to-back, and it had been the designated day she was meant to check the inventory and direct the orders that would be needed by the end of the week. Thankfully, the late-night staff would be able to receive the orders without her supervision and ensure they were correct, stock up the shelves for her. Anabelle was dressed to the nines to head into the club, a skin-tight two-piece and a full-body fishnet underneath it, partially obscured by her purple fur coat. Her hair was pinned up in a messy bun, faux blue eyes scanning the contents of the refrigerator section of the nearest gas station, unwilling for her wife to see exactly what she was browsing. It would inevitably bring up another discussion of her work life, and she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do about it yet; she needed time. “Are any of these something you would recommend to get through a five-hour shift?” the raven-haired woman asked the person that happened to walk up beside her, gesturing toward the racks of energy drinks.
She probably shouldn’t have been awake--but she was. Eyes half-lidded and browsing through racks of snacks she’d promised to bring home to her newest roommate for a movie marathon later on. It had been a mere few days since her move, but Samantha was surprisingly relishing her time in her brand new apartment, abetted with a twenty-something girl who shared similar interests with her and never seemed to mind it when she had to spend her night talking to Andie. It was quite pleasant to have someone other than her older sister and girlfriend to talk to, easing her initial anxiety when she had to sleep alone at night. It was now Samantha’s turn to provide for the nightly routine, and this gas station was the closest destination that she could reach. Pulling out another Pringles and embracing it within her arm, she was about ready to pay when a familiar voice stole her attention. She’d heard it only a few days ago, when she had visited the--not so new residence of her older sister’s and her family, frankly astonished she had been, to discover the dust and rust of her near run-down childhood house, being redecorated except for that one untouched part. “I don’t usually take energy drinks.” She responded, shrugging lightly, by now--fortunately--she had gotten accustomed to her sister-in-law’s sumptuous attire. That heavy fatigue in her eyes, however, was something she’d just caught recently. “Coffee works just fine, though, though my roommate would these cans of grapefruit--energy water, to keep her all awake when we had to work on homework. Might be able to do something. Hi, Ana. Love the new hair.”

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athenarogers:
“I know everyone is super amped on this pumpkin flavored stuff and Halloween and what not, but I can tell you the only thing that I’m excited about is not sweating my fucking ass off just trying to exist.” She shook her head as she was cleaning off the bar top. “Then it’s going to be winter and I’m going to be living my best life.”
“To be honest, I prefer winter too. It’s a lot comfier. ” Mostly because that was when she and her girlfriend had first met, and not to mention, Sam had always been the type of person who would take all of the possible odds to just curl in and remain inside for as long as possible. She had grown to be a lot more social lately, but she still much preferred the warmth of her own bed. “Halloween---is usually too loud and overrated. People dressing... inappropriately. I can’t handle any of that.”
tarapalmer:
Tara had been trying to treat herself in honor of her birthday, but so far, she wasn’t doing great. She’d given herself the night off from the club, but was still exhausted from the night before and her day job and the lack of sleep between the two. She couldn’t take herself to a bar, considering she wasn’t interested in being an active alcoholic– again– and she was just really bad at allowing herself to spend money for fun. So far, she’d been in Target and Crate & Barrel, and all she had was a pair of $3 Halloween socks and a throw that was on sale for 13.99, which she’d needed for months since her last one had been ruined by someone else’s bleach in the laundromat. “Any tips for self-indulging on your birthday? At this point, I’m considering getting a box of Ding-Dongs, eating them all, and going to sleep at 7 pm.”
Samantha had been keeping herself very occupied and tied to school matters as of lately--with classes returning in full force, and her decision to actually be physically present for them in lieu of veiling behind online subjects, she hadn’t been able to do a lot of socializing, save for several visits to Andie’s apartment and a little babysitting with the new kid at her sister’s place. She had gone from being apathetic to operative, more than she’d ever been, although those endeavors might appear inconsequential to others. That being said, despite the newfound hecticness, Sam remained distant - never really bothering to conjure ideas for a festive birthday celebration or anything like that. So when this girl--she might have seen her at the hospital a couple of times before, asked for tips, her eyebrows rose in a dragged rumination. “That’s exactly what I would do, to be honest.” She replied, her smile petite, though she never had a particularly big appetite. “You could also have a movie marathon with someone? That’s always fun.”

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cywreck:
Kora couldn’t help narrowing her eyes at the muttered remarks, not particularly caring for the scolding– of sorts. As if everyone in this city didn’t have to deal with nuisances on the daily. C’mon. “Sorry, no can do. My mother is an adorable bunny, I have to make noise when I eat. Genetically programmed,” the brunette sneered, making a point to tap her fork on the plate as noisily as hse possibly could. Being told what to do was never a good idea: rule number one every teacher in school learned about Kora. That is, until she graduated like everyone else and they didn’t have to see her ugly mug again. Bet they’re loving that. Three years later, they were almost certain to be kissing their own wrists and thanking the Lord she predominantly didn’t care for that she was no longer obstructing the halls, tearing up her papers in class, slamming her locker so hard the other end jutted out. “They can suck it up, they’re big kids now. They’ve got jobs and 401K plans, I’m sure.” Shrugging, her eyes returned to her plate, forking a cube of chicken.
Both his mother and sister, the first one, tended to make noise when they ate; not much but still enough to drive him up the wall and his father would agree with that. Mother mentioned it had an inkling to culture--whereas his sister was just someone who couldn’t even be bothered to have at least an ounce of manners if starved. It irked him, regardless. “That doesn’t make sense. It’s not that hard to chew with your mouth closed. It’s impolite, and extremely irritating. In my household you would’ve been--” Caleb stopped, reminded himself to not converse too much about what had unfolded to maintain pristine reputation onto his family name. Perhaps the loud munching almost roused ire from within, but he’d been trained for years to keep his emotions at bay. He regarded her with an analytical expression, criticizing without a word but decided to just return his attention back to his meal. Some kids were just way too troublesome, he supposed. “Fair enough. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I tried being nice. Someone else might stand up and reprimand you for it.”
Having not traversed around Queens in an immensely long while, it was safe to say that Caleb had nearly forgotten most of the suitable establishments to unwind there; he had become too accustomed to the even more dashing cities and found sole comfort in the warmth of his office or within the cradle of both his two-year old daughter and wife. Things felt a little different here, the air felt homely, but not in a good way--reminding him of the much complicated times, with his parents, two ruffled sisters. He tried to not permit the nostalgia disturb him too much and continued to venture from the hotel room he had booked for the next three days, and down to the streets. “Excuse me,” he murmured, his voice low, evidence of it scarcely being used. “Do you know any decent coffee shops around here? Somewhere quiet would be preferable, I need to finish my work.”
cywreck:
She hated to be dining in public, no matter the circumstances, but it wasn’t exactly like she could just march up to one of her brother’s apartments and say hey, let me crash on your couch and eat my fettucine alfredo, just don’t ask me any questions, dipshit. Granted, she hadn’t paid for this alfredo, she happened to swipe it off the other table while the diner was absent and had the pleasure of watching him impatiently asking the waitress where his fucking alfredo was. Didn’t mean she wanted spectators, on the other hand, she had enough voicemails on her phone of a dozen family members breathing down her neck. Therefore, she didn’t particularly like the fact she could feel someone’s eyes on her even when her own were glued to her laptop and hungrily, ungracefully, slurping the noodles off her fork without looking away. When she managed to swallow, her gaze lifted to the person, raising her eyebrows. “Can I fucking help you? This isn’t a show, take a picture and it’ll last longer. Got a problem with the way I’m eating?”
A two-week work intermission had always been quite the rarity for him; although he would much prefer remaining at home with his wife and daughter who, recently, had just turned one, Caleb thought it would be rather nice to come down and check up on how Samantha had been doing over these past few months--she seemed to have been doing well, enrolling college and scoring gratifying results, the eldest couldn’t have been more proud of her growth. He was also here to bear an unfortunate news, but that could be brought up later, when the timing was a little more appropriate. Loosening his shoulders as he situated himself within one of the restaurants he used to frequent as a child, he’d have to admit that the stranger’s--obnoxious chewing had grated his ears. It reminded him of an ancient time; an ancient, fractured house and rebellious feet. “You’re in a public place,” he muttered, eyes fixated on his own plate, “could you at least try to be less noisy? I’ve lost my appetite just listening to you wack your utensils and chow down your food like that. I’m quite certain I’m not the only one either.”

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