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📱 — seeing as you think Google is a legitimate source for intellectual knowledge, how about I educate you. This textbook is Modern Sociological Issues by George Ritizer (published 2016). Surprise, saying “the colour of your skin doesn’t matter” is racist and as Ritzer has informed us: RACE MATTERS. // @drivcs
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im still salty someone stole my oc idea and made them shit
“at least let me clean the wound!” (drivcs)
@drivcs
“Absolutely not!” Okay, Baby wasn’t exactly a baby when it came to these things, but he definitely tried to take care of himself instead of others doing it. Honestly, the gash on his arm was a hard to reach spot for him to take care of himself and knew he’d have to ask for help eventually, but for now -- fight was being put up. “I can do it myself. I just need some peroxide or alcohol and some damn gauze. Ill be fine.”
'I want the K' (Tf y not)
5: Kiss With Tongue
He was younger, almost too young for his tastes. Joseph caught him by the waist and pulled him close, pale eyes holding a question that was quickly answered with that irritating challenging look Baby always had for him. Joseph almost pulled back then, knowing he shouldn’t, but his body acted without his permission and before he knew it, he was dipping down, swiping at those pink lips with his tongue before fully closing the gap between them and sealing his lips over Baby’s.
“Plan of Escape”
He’d been drugged before. He’d drugged himself into oblivion before. So Eggsy was pretty certain which one of those situations it was this time.
“Fffuuuuu…”, he groaned, keeping his eyes closed against the pounding headache and the threatening nausea. Slowly, he flexed his hands and felt pain shoot through his shoulders.
Taking stock, he realised he was sitting up with a hard, cold, rough wall at his back and his wrists were encircled by cold, hard metal. Drugged, chained up and, squinting through half open eyes, no idea where he was. Had his stomach not protested, he might have joked about it.
A small noise alerted Eggsy to the fact that he was not alone. His body tensed on instinct and he moved his head towards the sound. Too fast, as it turned out and the sour taste of bile rose to the back of his throat. It took him a moment of breathing through his nose with his lips pressed tight until he fought the nausea down far enough to actually look.
Beside him, just as chained as him, was a young man he had never seen before. “Well, shit.”, he commented.
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                         “I trust my own two feet more than...”
    Trailing off, he shakes his head and leans back into the seat. Okay, he literally trusts his own two feet to get him out in a jiffy. He can make it in and out within a matter of minutes, and still have time to spare. But apparently a bust this big required others with experience, and he wasn’t about to expose himself. Unless, well, things went back and the boy was being overly hyped, then he’d definitely ditch without a second thought. Gaze narrows as instructions are further given, and he starts becoming distracted, the man’s voice becoming a mere chirp in the background that’s far too easy to ignore. @drivcs for liking this post.
