PR's Tumblrdome
roma★
ojovivo
tannertan36
One Nice Bug Per Day
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
@theartofmadeline
d e v o n
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
art blog(derogatory)
No title available
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Sweet Seals For You, Always
tumblr dot com
Mike Driver
Show & Tell
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
JVL
styofa doing anything
No title available
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from United Arab Emirates
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from Brazil
seen from Finland
seen from Canada
seen from Germany
seen from Iraq
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Ukraine
@anthonybreaux
Wouldn’t you just love to know.
However that information is classified and—if caught in the wrong hands—can be very damning to me. So….let’s just say I was caught in bit of a predicament.
Wow, sounds serious. What, did you smash into it while running from a murder scene or something?
Poisoned Youth || Anthony & Gio
“Tony?” Gio attempted at saying his name without moving his tongue again, laughter bubbling in his chest. “Dony.” He leaned his head on the taller boy’s shoulder before lifting his head back up. “I’m not stubborn, I’m right.” He rubbed at his eye with his free hand. “’Cause like, if you just…” Gio trailed off for a moment, forgetting where his train of thought was meant to be heading. “I want pancakes?” He heard the growl of Tony’s chest and almost laughed again, unsure about what he found to be amusing. “Wanna order a pizza I’ve got… something? Or uh, yeah. ‘Cause you’re so fuckin’ nice, y’know? And you’re skinny as fuck…” His words were coming out faster than he could really comprehend them, and Gio was hoping he had enough to actually buy this guy a pizza – did he even have his wallet.
“No, no, no,” He insisted. “You’re really fuckin’ nice, ‘cause listen – listen to me.” He pulled the taller man closer so their sides were pressed against each other. “You don’t even know, like I could – I’m not important? An’ you’re taking me… wherever we’re going.” Gio waved his hands enthusiastically, trying to explain how grand of a gesture this really was. Tony wasn’t understanding that this was a kindness but it was. He had resigned himself to sleeping on that porch, or maybe on a park bench if he could find one; but now he didn’t have to.
Between the two of them, there were no doubts on who the ‘nicer’ one was. Gio didn’t need to be sober to know he wasn’t nice – at least not by conventional standards. He didn’t have the time or the energy to be nice unless it benefitted him, and something like this wouldn’t particularly benefit him in the slightest. Gio pinched at the bridge of his nose and took a seat, all but slumping down in his chair. He was hitting the low end of his high now, feeling extraordinarily – not tired, but sluggish.
“Hm, do we?” Baby blues looked up and stared hard at the train schedule. For some reason he could read the words, but couldn’t seem to take in anything for shit. What train were they even waiting for? Gio stared harder before mumbling, “twenty five,” under his breath, trying to repeat it long enough to remember it. “Hey.” He shifted in his seat to look at Tony, shoving away that drowsy feeling. “Ever had your dick sucked in a train station?”
His eyes scanned the other man’s face, and he couldn’t tell if it was just the Molly or his general taste in guys but Tony was – pretty fucking attractive. Sure they were both scrawny as fuck, but he was covered in tattoos, and he’d be lying if he said tattoos weren’t a turn on. “’Cause you know, we both got a lot of time to kill.”
The thought of pizza was doing all kinds of things for Anthony right then, and he was glad that he lived in the city he did, otherwise pizza at that hour would've been a complete impossibility. He didn't even care if Gio would be able to buy it for him-which Anthony didn't expect he'd be able to anyway-so long as he managed to get his hands on some. What could he say? He was a simple guy with simple needs. He didn't express his excitement, though, just looked over at Gio and raised an eyebrow at his words.
"Pot's callin' the kettle black, ain't it?" He said in response to Gio calling him skinny. The other man wasn't nearly as skinny as Anthony and he knew it, but he was still a pretty skinny guy. He rolled his eyes when Gio tried to call him nice again, knowing it was pretty far from the truth.
"Park Slope." He said, not bothering to correct his other comments. That could happen when Gio wasn't sober. If they still found themselves acquainted by then, that is. He hadn't really thought out how helping some random guy who was fucked up would work out. Really, all Anthony could do was hope Gio didn't steal his supply.
Anthony raised an eyebrow at Gio's suggestion in confusion, then tipped his head back and burst out laughing when it clicked what he had asked. It wasn't that the idea of the other man giving him a blowjob was laughable, just the circumstances under which he'd offered it. If he'd been sober or they'd been anywhere else, Anthony might've seriously considered it.
"Well yeah I have, but I don't think I'd want to again. It felt gross 'cause all I could think about were the diseases and shit. Train stations ain't the cleanest places. Plus you just finished throwin' up a little while ago an' I don't think I want your vomity mouth around my dick." He said apologetically. It really was a shame the situation was what it was.
I just ran into a wall.
I can already tell Brooklyn’s happy to have me back.
How exactly did that happen?
Dammit— Did I forget the keys again? You can’t be serious…
I'd offer help but I don't think a stranger would like be breakin' in and hotwiring their car.
Poisoned Youth || Anthony & Gio
”Anthony.” The name felt heavy in his mouth, and he found himself having a hard time with the ‘th’. Gio had become overly aware of the fact that there was a tongue in his mouth, and he was trying to work out phonetics without moving it. “Anthony. Tho-Anth… Anthony.” He laughed shoving his free hand in his pocket as they made their way further and further from the building he was nearly resigned to sleeping in front of. “An-honey.” Gio stood still for a minute, overcome by a wave of laughter. “Can’t say your name without movin’ my tongue, tu sai?”
The two made their way into the elevator, and Gio fumbled through his pockets for his metrocard. He leaned against the dingy metal wall of the elevator, unsure of why he had so much trust in this near perfect stranger. Even under the influence, he was usually wary of new people. “I am not,” he said stubbornly, finally finding his metrocard. “I’m ‘onna rise and feel like a fuckin’ king? And then I’ll have pancakes.” The door open, and he stumbled forward before grabbing onto Anthony again. “My legs don’t work.” It sounded more like a confession than it should have, but Gio didn’t notice enough to care. “You’re – why are you so fuckin’ nice?”
He swiped his metrocard emphatically, finding some strange form of enjoyment with it. “Goes like woosh and then DiBlasio steals my money, s’a win for everyone.” Gio wasn’t sure if he was talking to Anthony or to himself, but he was glad he was able to at least voice his opinion on metrocards. As a kid, his mom always used to let him swipe for her because it was his favorite part of taking the subway. That and the ability to crawl through the turnstile.
Anthony snickered at Gio's drunken—well it wasn't just drunken, was it?—antics as they entered the elevator. He made sure the other man wouldn't wipe out in the elevator before he punched the faded, grubby button to go up. "You can just call me Tony, if that's easier for you." He said. He leaned back against the wall, not particularly worried about the diseases that probably lived on it right then, and listened as it groaned and creaked it way up to the station.
“A king? I can think of a few other things you’re gonna feel like, but you seem stubborn so I’ll leave it.” He said, an amused smirk on his face. “Come to think of it, pancakes sound fuckin’ great.” His stomach growled, as if on command. He went through the contents of his cabinets in his head, wondering what food he had in them. He certainly didn’t have pancake mix because he was a lazy bastard who didn’t put too much effort into making food, but he had to have something, right?
He was pulled from his thoughts when Gio crashed into him again, taking him by surprise for the second time. He pitched forward, managing to catch himself at the last second, before rearranging his grip to make it easier to walk. He stopped himself from laughing when Gio called him nice.
“Nice? Not exactly the word I’d use.” He said. “I dunno, you just looked kinda pathetic and you probably woulda died of frostbite or some shit if I left you there.” He explained. Either that or he would’ve gotten mugged. Probably both, though. Tony resisted the urge to laugh at Gio’s little speech as he swiped his metrocard and contemplated recording the moment to look back on whenever he needed a laugh, though he decided against it. He steered the wobbly man to the correct platform and told him to sit on one of the benches, before grabbing a spot himself.
He looked up at the screen hovering to his left and saw that they had twenty five minutes to wait for the next train. He sighed, knowing that even this was lucky, considering it was past normal operating hours. “Looks like we got some time to wait.” Tony said, looking over at Gio.
Poisoned Youth || Anthony & Gio
yogiocaiazzo:
Gio tilted his head to the side, staring at the new stranger. He looked familiar, but Gio couldn’t remember from where – maybe he just had one of those faces. Everyone looked like someone, especially when you’re fucked up. He nearly said no, before realizing he wasn’t in a position to really refuse anyone’s help. He couldn’t remember how to get home if he fucking tried. The back of his throat was raw, and he felt the disgusting bubbling heat of another potential vomit. “Yeah, actually,” He mumbled, swallowing it down and grimacing at the taste. “That’d be – yeah.”
If he stared at the tall stranger long enough he could see the outlines of his body moving from side to side like a bad television connection. This was a lesson learned for next time. His acid to Molly ratio was even and that’s all good and well, but it lasted way longer than he wanted it to. Or did it? How long ago had he been in the club? What time was it?
”Hey, what time is it?” Gio took the other boy’s hand and almost wanted to recoil instantly. Jesus, his hands were cold. “Oh, wait.” He stumbled slightly before laughing. “Shit, sorry. I’m uh… fuck.” Gio was secretly growing frustrated with himself, but tried to shove that aside. “’m Gio.” If he were sober he’d perhaps have some better concept of boundaries, but he couldn’t help but cling to the friendly stranger. His legs weren’t working the way they were supposed to, and if he stared in any one direction for too long then he got nauseous all over again.
Anthony started to tug the two forwards, and Gio dragged his feet along. He was momentarily fascinated in the dragging sound his shoes made against the pavement. If he timed it just right he could hear the beat to We Will Rock You, but also Ice Ice Baby, or maybe it wasn’t either of those, the more he tried to focus the more it sounded like Feel Good Inc. “Do you usually do this? Y’know pick up dudes on the – whoa I’m fucked up.”
Anthony nodded and pulled the man up slowly, not wanting him to throw up again. He felt the flinch when their hands touched and knew it was probably because his hands were cold enough to indicate that he could be dead. He probably looked like death too: boney and pale with tattoos everywhere, wearing all black. It would be funny if it weren't so morbid.
Anthony almost fell over when the stranger put all his weight on him, but managed to hold himself up by some miracle. He pulled one of the man's-Gio, he'd said his name was-arms up over shoulders and placed out of his own around Gio's waist to hold him up. His nose twitched then, and he realized there was probably some dried vomit on the man.
"I'm Anthony." He responded, not sure why he was bothering. Gio probably wouldn't remember his name considering just how fucked up he was. He started pulling them forward, his job made infinitely harder due to the fact that the other man was pretty much all dead weight at this point. Gio spoke then, and Anthony let out a snort and then chuckled at his words.
"Yeah, I'd say you're pretty fucked up right now. You're gonna feel like shit in the morning" He said, though he was sure the man knew that already. He somehow managed to get them to the train station and thanked every god that came to mind that the elevator actually worked in this station, or else he'd have had no idea how to get the stranger clinging to him up the stairs.
Poisoned Youth || Anthony & Gio
Anthony pulled his jacket closer around his bony limbs as he walked through the nearly empty streets. There was really no such thing as a truly empty street in Manhattan, not even where the rich people lived. He listened for a moment for any signs of people in the streets and was greeted with a distant "Fuck," and nodded in satisfaction.
He jammed his hands into his pockets, fingering the bills he'd stuffed into them after delivering some guy Marcus' weed. Maybe he'd use it to actually buy himself some gloves instead of complaining how cold his hands were all the time.
He was a bout to round a corner when heard the unmistakeable sound of vomiting and stopped for a moment to debate with himself whether to keep going that way or to walk the extra block so he wouldn't have to encounter some homeless guy that would throw up all over him. He decided to take his chances because it was cold and late and he just wanted to get to bed.
Anthony continued walking and saw that the vomiter in question didn't look particularly homeless, though he did look pretty pathetic with his back against the brick of a building, moaning incoherent words. Anthony raised an eyebrow and approached the man slowly so as not to spook him.
"Rough night?" Anthony asked, his voice cutting through the silent air though he'd tried to be quiet. He winced when the other man answered him by vomiting again and took a step back so as not to get any on his new sneakers.
"I guess you can say that." The man responded. Anthony looked around at the darkened streets and back at the man in front of him and sighed.
"Need some help?" He asked, only because he knew how shitty it was to be left to your own devices while fucked up, especially in a neighborhood you definitely didn't belong in. Plus, he'd probably freeze to death if left alone. He held out his hand for the other man to take, thinking he was definitely gonna use some of that money to invest in gloves.
I’m just gonna lie here till things stop spinning.
Usually a good idea. Unless you're in someone else's house. And she didn't know you were there. And her boyfriend got pissed and chased you down the fire escape.
Trying really hard not to knee you in the balls.
Sure, that's definitely how you should respond to this. Instead of going with the simple solution that hasn't occurred to you for some reason.
Here, I'll clue you in: Ask nicely.
I’m telling you to move the fuck over instead of taking up two seats with your spider legs. It’s basic train etiquette, Jackass.
Oh sorry, I'll move right now. [He spreads out his limbs even more, out of spite.]
Don’t be that dick that takes up the whole fucking seat to spread your legs for your chestnut balls.
What are you, the seat police? Listen, I've been on this train since fuckin' Canarsie an' I'm not about to move just 'cause some uppity chick started bitchin' at me. In case you didn't notice, this train's got plenty more cars with seats in 'em.
Height has nothing to do with the width of the seat.
Thing is, I need to be able to stretch out all my limbs comfortably an' I can't do that with some guy next to me. You can prob'ly do that shit hedgehogs do and curl up in a ball.
You’re a stick. You can fit better over there.
But I'm pretty tall, you see. You're nearly pocket sized.
I’m sure he’d prefer yours a lot more.
Dunno, I think you're more his type. Just a feelin'.
You’re taking up most of the seat. Move over.
There's a seat over there next to that charming lookin' homeless guy. Sure he'd love to have your company.
You’re kind of in the way.
In the way o' what? Plenty o' space around me.
Can I help you?
