#at least i know the drugs are working i dont feel like Awful but now im just annoyed

[lordsardine]

[strawberryraviegutz]

I feel like this needs to be said but..Am I the only one getting annoyed with the “Ame Chan is a bad person/problematic” discourse?? I’m not just talking about the ppl who’ve been complaining about her character saying they “didn’t realize how awful she was”. I’m also talking about ppl being like “lmao yall clearly didn’t play the game of course she’s a horrible person you’re just now realizing that??”

You don’t necessarily have to play a game to be a fan of it. It’s pretty common for ppl to watch gameplay videos or videos covering the story of/analyzing games and characters if they can’t or don’t wanna play it. Second I dont think we should just look at Ame through a black and white lense. Ame’s not a horrible person but she’s not necessarily good either. She’s a very VERY flawed person who struggles with mental health issues and addiction and makes rlly bad decisions and says rlly mean/bad things.

But that’s like…literally everyone on earth. Everyone has flaws especially mentally ill ppl, nobody’s perfect. It’s implied that Ame was literally abandoned/disowned by her parents so of course she’s not going to make the best decision with a “stable” mind especially if you’re desperate.

Ame Chan does terrible things/decisions like taking drugs on stream and self harming on stream and I think she even killed herself on stream too in one ending(tho feel free to correct me if I’m wrong) which is obviously irresponsible and dangerous. And she says things that aren’t necessarily nice or the best(some of it is warranted since some of the ppl in her chat were saying rlly awful, gross and even misogynistic things and calling her “old”).

And while she only wanted to be kangel for attention online, it’s kinda possible that she’s been able to have positive impacts on her fans/audience. We’ve seen how she is with the younger side of her fanbase as Kangel. She’s very kind and compassionate and overall very sweet towards them. Kangel’s entire persona is revolved around reaching out to lonley ppl online who’re struggling and to make them happy.

She may be doing it only for money snd attention, but like most ppl who struggle with mental health issues, they sometimes don’t realize the positive impacts they’ve had on the ppl around them. Hell maybe deep down Ame made Kangel to also help reach out to ppl like her online and make them happy too.

And as for the whole shotacon accusations, Ame Chan is NOT a shotacon. It was a very bad translation error and we all know that most translators aren’t always reliable(especially Google Translate) so please stop spreading that around. It’s been debunked already.

Maybe I’m biased because while I don’t have BPD(at least I don’t think so), have never taken drugs, nor have I ever cut myself in like a very VERY long time(tho I never left any scars cuz i didn’t like pain)and have an anxiety disorder and am autistic, I still sorta relate to/kin Ame Chan.

I’ve had my moments where I’ve had emotional and or violent outbursts(not where I’ve beat someone up or broke anything)due to a rush of emotion and or getting real worked up/frustrated online and irl.

And it’s always rubbed me the wrong way when I’ve been seeing ppl trying to put Ame into the box of “bad/problematic person” whether you’re trying to defend her character or not. It’s a lot more complex and morally grey than that and I think characters like her being in media are important to lessen the stigma of mental health whether it be in Japan or worldwide.

Feel free to correct me and fill me in on stuff if I missed anything or left anything out but in conclusion, Ame Chan is a not a good person, but she’s not necessarily a monster and or all bad either and I think ppl on both sides should realize that.

[tht0nesimp]

Yandere killua x reader- Breathe

tw: medical malpractice, cuts (not self-inflicted), blood, vivisection(?), cursing, SADISM, punishment, mentions of escape

Breathe. You could ignore it, The sensation of the tubes, needles, and other medical supplies that you could practically feel on your skin already even though they all laid docile in the room

"It's going to hurt" Killua barely glanced at you, his hands were instead idly searching for something. "Aha" he whispered when he found the tool he had been searching for in the drawer for a few minutes since he'd strapped you down to this fucking bed

You tried to imagine that your attempt had worked, that you were on a train going to your inherited home on the beach while killua searched for you. But he doesn't seem to care about the tears that continued to form in your tired eyes and instead, he grabbed an IV bag as well as a thick needle, and a securement device he proceeded to shove the needle roughly into a vein in your restrained arms "benzodiazepines" he leaned in and whispered into your ear to speak that god awful drug that seemed to make every muscle relax, your brain felt too awake, but your body was numb and fuzzy, like it was encased in this invisible layer of impenetrable fluff that wouldn't let you move even slightly

"Can you feel this?" he tested, poking your leg gently, "mhm.." the ability to speak felt like it was being ripped away from you. He ran a scalpel across the width of your leg, thin blood masking some of the silver of the medical instrument which he quickly wiped off

This was hell, you regretted everything, He was using your fears against you and it was unfair, You just wanted to go back to being a normal person who dated who they wanted! You wanted to go back to not living on some hell-borne mountain full of cold assassins! Alas, the words quickly fizzle out as your reminded of the burning pain in your leg as killua wraps it in gauze

" 'm sorry" you gasp as he snips at your skin with a pair of forceps unceremoniously, "No your not, dont lie" you nod as much as the drugs would give you in slack for you to move your head. Tears finally start flowing and they only add to the pain since your restrained-not like the drugs would let you even if you weren't restrained- arms were unable to move to wipe them away

He showed you a small ounce of mercy by wiping a few away, even if the sensation of his hand against your skin was nearly hurl-inducing due to previous events. "If you ever lie again, ill cut you open" he extremely gently takes the scalpel and drags it down your stomach until he reaches where your shorts were clad on your waist

"Maybe i should make you wear a hospital gown?" he smiled cheekily as he watched you shake your head gently while groans escaped from your throat in place of pleading "Baka.." he chuckled a little bit and seemed to let the idea rest- at least for now- instead, he chose to adjust your IV "You know what youll need for the next couple months?" your eyes widen at the implication of months of this "treatment"

"A catheter"

Just breathe, dont look at the long tube

Dont feel him slip your shorts and panties down to your ankles

Just...

Breathe

[dizzzydancin]

Step On Me- A John Dory-centric Fanfic

hai again :3 heres chapter two of this fic, it's on ao3 if anyone's interested in that

cw: drug use (i dont know how drugs work)

Rock Your Body- Chapter 2

If anyone learns anything about John Dory, it's that sometimes he doesn't fully think things through. This is how he ended up at this insane party full of trolls he barely knows and the music is so loud that he swears he needs earplugs to listen to.

It's not that he didn't want to be here; quite the contrary.

An old friend, Darnell, had invited John to a party he was hosting towards the top of the Troll Tree and begged him to come on a count of JD always being “overworked and stressed," quote on quote. John wasn't going to go initially; he had responsibilities now. There was no way he could just leave his siblings to take care of themselves!

Alas, upon hearing of John’s invite to the party, Floyd had insisted he go.

“You deserve a break. You never do anything fun!" Floyd points out, which makes John Dory huff out a sigh.

“You don't understand, I can't just leave you boys alone. It's just not right, especially not after…" John trails off, ready to stand up and leave the conversation when he feels Floyd grab onto his wrist.

“You know we're old enough to take care of ourselves, right? We aren't babies anymore, JD.” Floyd laughs but can tell John is still hesitant, and maybe a little hurt.

John bites his lip before nodding, finally agreeing to go to Darnell’s party. Maybe he did deserve some time for himself.

Which is how he ended up here, with a drink of something he can't remember in his hand and suddenly bumping into a taller, dark-blue troll.

The blue troll spins around, long, red hair whipping around with the same intensity the rest of him does, and staring into his fierce eyes makes John Dory nervous.

He takes a step back, only to bump into another troll behind him, who seems to be too busy dancing to even bother looking at him.

“Sorry, didn't see you there!" John yells over the music, putting on his best smile to make him look even the slightest bit more confident.

The other troll stares at him for a second longer, looking him up and down before turning right back around, and making his way through the crowd of trolls to what seems to be the kitchen. Man, that's a relief; John wasn't sure he was trying to fight anyone tonight. This was supposed to be a freeing night for him! And so far it's going pretty awful.

With a loud sigh, JD makes his way through the crowd of trolls just as the dark blue troll had done moments prior, but instead of heading to the kitchen, he leans against a far wall that seems to have the least amount of trolls accumulating near it. John finally feels like he can breathe now that he's not shoulder-to-shoulder with every troll in the pod.

Man, he must look like a fucking loser.

He takes a sip of his drink, quickly being reminded that it's a soda of some kind, and starts thinking of how the hell he can get out of there without being seen by anyone he might know. It seems like an asshole move; he knows he should say goodbye to Darnell, as he was the one who invited him in the first place, but it just seems like too much effort to John who feels like he's been bit by a bus.

Before he can make his escape, the dark blue troll from earlier slides back into the room. He stands out amongst all the other trolls with his long, flowing red hair and heart-shaped chest hair that's weirdly enticing to JD. He doesn't even realize he's staring at the poor fellow and only realizes when it becomes all too clear that this troll is heading in his direction.

Shit, maybe he should have gotten out of here sooner.

By the time John turns around to leave, the blue troll is somehow standing right in front of him, and he bumps into his broad chest with a thump.

John quickly reels back, trying to avoid bringing a black eye back to show his siblings the good time he had.

“Listen, man, I didn't mean-" John begins, throwing his hands up and accidentally sloshing his drink over his gloved hand in the process.

The blue troll sticks out his hand, putting on a friendly smile that makes John's gut feel gooey.

“Chaz." That is all the troll says. What an introduction.

John hesitates, staring at Chaz’s hand before using his non-sticky hand to shake it. “John Dory."

As if Chaz couldn't get anymore weirdly attractive to JD, he bows his head, kissing the back of John's hand and peering at him through his lashes.

“Your name is unique, I like it."

The compliment has John's heart soaring, and a cheesy grin spreads across his warm cheeks.

“Thanks! I like your hair.” John compliments Chaz back, feeling it was the only right thing to do.

"Hmm, thank you, dear.” Chaz rumbles from deep in his chest.

The tone Chaz puts on makes John feel like there are millions of little butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, and it's weird at first, but JD thinks he likes it.

Chaz takes a step closer to John, leaning down right in his ear. The proximity makes John feel weak, and his face flushes almost immediately. Part of him wants to grab this troll's face and study every part of it, but that would be so weird, right?

“I think I know how to make your night a little more fun. Are you up for it?" Chaz whispers to John, who nods excitedly.

When Chaz pulls away, he begins digging through his pocket, which John watches closely. Dude, this guy is jacked, and fuck if it's not hot.

A small package of what looks like candy is pulled from Chaz’s pocket and handed to John, who dumbly stares at it. Okay, not what he was expecting.

Chaz seems to sense his confusion and shakes the package to catch John's attention. “Come on, just try it. I promise you won't regret it." Chaz winks and hands the candy over to John, who finally takes it.

Still skeptical, and now a little weirded out, JD takes the candy and rips open the package. It's a little ring candy, it seems, and it's blue, probably blueberry. After another bought of hesitation, John brings the candy to his mouth and takes a couple of licks across the outside.

“You'll thank me later." Chaz brushes his hand across John's hip, bringing his other hand up to take a lick of his candy, which is red. Has Chaz had that this whole time? How did he not notice that earlier?

Before John could ask what Chaz meant, he felt as if he had entered another plane of existence.

The packed room was stretching and expanding at will, even other trolls' faces became distorted and odd-looking, some of them even changing colors! Oddly enough, John Dory wasn't frightened by any of this, how could he be when his body felt so buzzy and alive? He couldn't help the laughter bubbling in his chest, the wild grin he had spreading quickly across his face. God, he'd never felt so alive!

Chaz seemed to be a bit more experienced with this sort of thing, it seemed since he wasn't as phased by the candy. Instead, he was looking down at JD, his smile quickly building.

“Care to dance?" Chaz purred in John's ear, which earned him an enthusiastic, “Hell yeah!" in return.

Don't be so quick to walk away

Dance with me

I wanna rock your body, please stay

Dance with me

The music was loud, but no longer did JD feel the need to cover his ears and shield himself from the noise. He instead embraced it, throwing his hands clumsily in the air and swaying his whole body to the rhythm. John could no longer remember why he was so anxious, now dancing alongside a hot troll whom he'd only gotten the name of not even five minutes ago.

While John was throwing his body around to the music, Chaz was swaying his hips, keeping his arms mostly by his side. He was more focused on keeping an eye on his new friend, making sure he didn't wander off too far or get into any trouble while under the influence. Deep down, Chaz had a feeling that John had never done anything like this before if his cute confused face from before was any indication.

I don't mean no harm

Just wanna rock you, girl

Make a move, but be calm

Let's go, let's give it a whirl

As the party came to a close, trolls slowly made their way out of the pod and stumbling their way back home, Chaz was guiding John to the exit as well. It was late, the moon glowing high in the sky, and they couldn't stay here all night even if they wanted to. Chaz had become quite infatuated with John Dory, and even though he would love to stay with him a bit longer, it seemed like a better idea to get him home.

“Come on, dear, it's time to get you home." Chaz hums, pushing John Dory towards the pod’s door.

“Nooo!" John whined back, throwing his arms around Chaz’s neck, “The party is just getting started!"

Chaz’s laugh rings through JD’s ears. "Quite the opposite, love. Let's go."

John Dory groans, letting go of Chaz and stomping out of the pod.

He's so cute when he pouts, Chaz thinks, smiling softly as he follows behind the grumpy troll.

“Don't be like that, darling. It's getting late, you know." They're holding hands now, fingers intertwined with one another. When did that happen?

“Can I walk you home? I don't want you getting hurt.” Chaz offers, to which he gets an enthusiastic nod of agreement from John, who begins to vaguely remember the direction in which his pod is.

They walk in silence for a bit. It's a comfortable silence, though, not a silence that either of them feels needs to be filled with mindless banter. Of course, with John Dory being John Dory, he talks anyway.

“Haven't seen you around before." He comments.

“No? I live that way." Chaz points behind them, and John assumes he lives past Darnell's pod.

“Ohh, yeah that's probably why. I usually stay home anyway." John shrugs. It's kind of sad to admit, really, but he has people to take care of, he can't just up and leave out of nowhere.

Chaz nods. “Kids at home?"

“Sort of. My brothers."

The conversation trails off after that, Chaz not wanting to pry into his acquaintance's home life, and John not wanting to have to explain his life story to an almost stranger.

Before they knew it, both trolls arrived back at John's pod, which seemed dark from the outside since it was late and all the lights were off. His brothers should be asleep by now, at least he hopes they are; he's still feeling a bit loopy, and doesn't feel like running into any of them.

“This is my stop." John jokes, turning around to face Chaz.

“Will I see you soon?" Chaz smiles at him.

John just shrugs. There's no way to know what tomorrow brings, not with the way he's living. With that, John turns away and heads into his pod as quietly as possible to not wake his sleeping brothers, leaving Chaz alone on the branch in front of his home.

When JD walks inside, he's pleased to find everything is right where it should be. Except for a stray shirt on the couch and a bottle of juice on the coffee table, everything was spotless. He's impressed, to say the least.

As quiet as he possibly can with his clumsy feet, he walks to his bedroom, slipping his shirt off on the way there. When he gets inside, he shuts the door and throws his shirt into a corner of the room, never to be seen again.

As he collapses onto his bed, curling up on the slightly lumpy mattress and pulling a few stray blankets over the top of him, he closes his eyes, falling asleep with a stupid grin on his face.

If he has a dream about a certain dark blue troll with beautiful red hair, then it was nobody else's business but his.

[homestuck-stories]

Wait I want to request a thing for my best friend.

He adores karkat, sollux, and mituna. So If you could write something with any of them for him that would be lovely!

He loves cats and bees a ton, struggles with OCD and being half deaf (missing an ear). Hes an artist too and loves baking.

Just do whatever is easy but make it really sappy and romantic >:3c fluster him ♡

Hope this is ok to request! Thanks in advance!

♡Fox

—SOLLUX WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW. ARE YOU ON DRUGS? Some troll asked on Trollian. The notification arrived soon, being answered by another troll. —… no, iim not iin drug2. why are you a2kiing that riight now, KK? —LET'S SEE. YOU WERE REALLY SPECIFIC ABOUT WHAT YOU WANTED. YOU WANTED TO TALK WITH Y/N. I GAVE YOU HIS TAG. AND YOU IGNORED ME. I TALKED WITH HIM. THEY ACCEEDED TO TALK WITH YOU AND, AFTER PUTTING SOME WORK ON IT, I EVEN MAKE HIM AGREE INTO HAVING A DATE WITH YOU. BUT YOU HAVE TO GO NOW IF YOU WANT TO SEE HIM. The other troll tried not to panic. He knew how important it was to cause a good impression on you on the first date, so he said. —oh. 2o you 2ay that iim late. that make2 2en2e. yeah, ii 2hould go now. thank2 for remiindiing me two go talk wiith hiim, KK. ii dont know what iid do iif ii havent 2uch a good friiend —PLEASE DON'T BE DEPRESSIVE AND SWEET WITH ME. YOU ARE KINDA DISGUSTING. BUT YEAH, SAY THANKS. YOU HAVE TO BE THANKFUL I DON'T GO IN YOUR PLACE. THAT KID IS REALLY NICE AND HAS SOME GUTS, SO I FEEL HE COULD WORK AS A GOOD MATESPRIT. TA disconnected that moment, making his way to the place where you were waiting. He arrived as soon as possible for him and, when he arrived, he was so flustered. He wasn't expecting something so… Appropiate. You lacking a part of yourself (your ear) did make Sollux feel alright in a weird but good way. He was insecure because of his doom player condition, which made him half-blind and half-death in some weird way, so being able to see that his date was not perfect… Kinda fixed his vision. Not quite literally, since he was half-blind still. But it was the best he was gonna feel. At least, before talking with you. He approached while you were working on some art. It was a portrait of Nepeta and yourself surrounded by some cats. You both seemed kinda cute for him so it was time to talk for Sollux —hey. that look2 really cool, 2eriiou2ly. —… Huh?… Oh! It's you. Sorry, could you repeat what you said? Sollux was stupid. Or that's, at least, how he felt. Clearly he was half deaf and talking to him standing on kid's bad side was almost awful coming from someone who should understand his struggles. —… yeah, 2orry. ii wa2 2ayiing that… that your art look2 pretty cool. tho2e are really cool cat2 and ii have two admiit that iim 2orry for beiing late. —Oh, I know that you were, but I already came with my own plan. If you weren't coming, I was gonna keep drawing. I already planned everything so I wouldn't feel anxious if you couldn't assist. That sounded kinda bad and sad but then he remembered what KK said. "HE STRUGGLES WITH OCD. AND NO, I'M NOT TRYING TO MAKE ANY JOKES LIKE OLD CRUSTY DICK OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. I'M TALKING ABOUT OBSESSIVE-COMPULSIVE DISORDER." —2o… how are you? iim pretty bad wiith thii2, 2orry. probably iit2 better iif ii go. my lii2p ii2 makiing everythiing wor2e, iim probably the mo2t obnoxiiou2 troll you ever talked two —No, please! I planned everything because I would find kinda hurtful being alone when I want to spend time with you. Don't feel like you are bad at anything because the only thing you are not good at is making me feel uncomfortable!… Sollux was a little bit confused by your way of wording that, but soon recognized that you were trying to help. —okay… thank2 agaiin. and… ii want to 2pend tiime wiith you two. ii hope that wa2nt corny enough to 2care your a22 haha… You laughed because that sounded really cute. You shaked your head and said, with a smile —A little bit corny, yeah, but not enough. You have to try a little harder than that, sorry. So… I was doing this drawing because I wanted to improve my relationship with Nepeta and, well, I'm doing another one of Mituna. Do you have any request, something do you want me to draw for you? Something that will make you feel better. And that's how you and Sollux spent an evening together.

-------------------------------------------------------- Hey! I hope your friend likes it! I'm sorry if I misunderstood anything about the request, and I'm sorry if I can't capture exactly Sollux's personality! I tried my best and I hope it's good enough to fluster your friend! <3

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Hello India, please feel free to answer this in public. I wanted to ask you something about this post in particular the cleanliness clause: https://www.tumblr.com/indiaalphawhiskey/701448319966248960/if-you-dont-mind-can-you-please-explain-what-a?source=share

I was genuinely terrfied when I read that something like that exists. I mean I think this is legitimate proof that Larry were closeted against their will contractually, what do you think?

Also you said that if they did anything unsavory, their contract would be declared null and void, right? But why is that a bad thing, to me it seems really positive? If their contract would be declared null and void, wouldn't they be free of that awful contract (and have the potential to be a couple in public) and maybe sign to a new and better label?

Hi!

So first off, as I’ve said before, I’m not a lawyer and I have no experience in the music industry, so everything I say is inference based on: i) my general knowledge of the objectives of contracts in general, ii) contractual obligations I’ve seen exercised in my own industry, and iii) observations we’ve made about the inner workings of the entertainment industry over my years in fandom.

TL;DR - take what I say with a grain of salt, please.

So, yes, cleanliness clauses are a thing, and they’re actually pretty standard. They take many forms (from simple brand guidelines to the more extreme version Harry alluded to in BH&G), but at their most benign, they’re usually just a way for brands/organizations/corporations to pragmatically ensure their collaborators align with their image as a brand and don’t do anything to besmirch their name (see: Adidas’ very delayed dropping of Kanye West).

Is that solid, undeniable proof that Harry and Louis were forcibly closeted in One Direction?

Nothing ever really is.

But yes, in the sense that people who know enough about the inner workings of the entertainment industry clearly know what “unsavory” pertains to (considering the image of Harry that was pushed at the time didn’t discourage drinking, drugs, or sex with women by any means, so clearly it wasn’t about making him look like a church boy).

No, in that, as usual, the wording Harry (and most likely, the contract) uses is vague enough not to allude to anything that might, say, break certain anti-Discrimination laws and leave very powerful labels and management vulnerable to legal action.

Which leads me to your next point. I think what people often forget about contracts is that literally 99.9999999% are written with the objective of protecting the company, not the individual. And given what we know about the way the entertainment industry works (you know, the same industry that literally refused to release Ke$ha from her record contract with her assailant), it’s easy to deduce that “null and void” isn’t as straightforward as the wording made it sound.

Rather, what it probably means is that the record label’s obligation to support, promote, and also protect their commodity (the artist) is “null and void”, and now that the artist is no longer seen as a lucrative asset, the label will also no longer see the point in investing in them. But, like I said, contracts are designed to protect the label, and protect their previous investment and any output of that investment in perpetua, which probably means:

I) MINIMUM: a long-standing non-compete clause (so any of the boys who broke their contracts probably would not be able to sign with anyone else or make/own/perform any old/new music for at least enough time for their fanbase and appetite for them as artists to fade),

Or

II) MAXIMUM (and frankly, most common): since contracts are usually based on number of albums produced, being blackballed and shelved by their own label so the artist can’t fulfill their contractual obligations and are bound to their original contract forever.

There are obviously many other details and permutations of the kind of consequences breaking a cleanliness clause could entail, but basically, given how high profile One Direction was and how much money they were making, it’s highly, highly unlikely (read: fucking impossible) that Simon or anyone else from Syco would have willingly let them continue to make music for anyone else, let alone let them negotiate better contracts with any of their competitors.

[rianafying]

was away from my phone for a day and it feels like i haven’t been on tumblr in ages.

it’s 2am rn, raining heavily, im enjoying this a lot. but i can’t help but feel overwhelmed by all the tasks that await me. just always, generally, in life. they’re not difficult to people, but they’re near impossible to me. i feel very scared very often. stability feels foreign and instability feels awful. cried a lot at the protest today, i can’t do protests they’re emotionally just too much for me. i’ve been daydreaming about falling in love. nobody in my mind, just generally, the idea of love. which is good i guess? it’s healthy to want it. i’m not as damaged as i had feared. but i really need to get a little more control over my life. drinking tea really helps with the nerves. gives me clarity. shuts down most of the chaos in my head makes it so that i can follow and complete one train of thought at a time. feels like a miracle drug but it’s just plain black tea, the cheapest most generic one i could find. crazy i know. i’ve been rewatching bridgerton. i really do love the show. and i have the fattest crush on jonathan bailey. embarrassing i know. it’s my guilty pleasure show. found some good music lately. new stuff. on repeat. added to my coming of age summer playlist. the age being 24. i can’t believe im going to be 24 soon and im so proud of myself not for anything i’ve achieved but instead for starting to let go of my obsession with achievement. there’s no good reason to torture oneself over never finding enough success under the horrible system that is capitalism. nothing is ever enough. makes me think of dc, when he said if you can, take my hand, i promise you’ll find love again, love again. very unrelated but also extremely related to my current situation. not soon though. i really hope it’s not soon. i’m enjoying my solitude. i swear the next time i do this whole love thing it’s going to be so different from anything i have ever experienced before. if there even is a next time. only time shall tell. i think time is the only thing can can be told and do the telling. i might be wrong, there might be a hundred other things. but. back to life as i know it today, i should sleep. i should shower then i should apply my medicine then i should sleep. i should also drink water. very very important. crazy how so much work is essential for the body to keep on living. and how it lets you know very aggressively when it has not had enough. food, sleep, movement, sun, medicine, and the list goes on. there’s so much stuff i need to throw out. so many people whose messages i have to reply to. i often forget because 90% of texting is just formality and roughly 10% is actual information exchange. i don’t think i’ve ever truly been missed by someone. my friends always say they miss me. i miss them dearly, but i can’t imagine being missed. like to think that they felt my absence and “missed” “me”. what a crazy world and what a lucky girl i am. at least in this regard. i wonder why hank and john have not spoken up about palestine. i wonder how anyone i have ever respected could stay silent while witnessing cruelty of this level. i’m not even a sjw or a particularly passionate activist. i don’t normally feel like everyone needs to care about something. but this? this is just. beyond. just beyond. everything. i worshipped hank and john. they taught me almost everything i know and i never thought i could ever be let down by them. yet here i am. learned my lesson about worshipping people. but what about god? god is so much worse, like asfsgshdjdkdldlflkkkl. it’s nearly 3am. i always do this. i always stay up too late the night before an important gig. it’s the over thinking that keeps me from peace. i’ll take some stevia w me to the studio so i can make my tea when im there! my brain.

i hope i don’t have to move back to bangladesh, because it is terrible over there. especially now that im seeing all the election season atrocities. i dont know what will happen in my life but i know that im trying my best. i’m always trying to prove myself, but to whom? who am i trying to answer to? pobody’s nerfect, i need to take it easy. goodnight for now.

[beehive-sys-sus]

If you could relive any of your memories, which would it be?

THIS is the blog we were expecting it for. /gen nm typing quirk Right. This'll probably be a long one, because this isn't specified for any one alter, so under the cut will just have every alter with source talking about memories they'd like to feel again. I'll organize them as best I can, but you know how it goes.

POKEMON ALTERS

Damocles (Glitchy Red Ryan) - Right. Well. I have--a lot of source. I am based off our main timeline version of our Glitchy Red, Ryan (not the host, he stole the name before I arrived.). A memory I'd like to relive is...both a lot of them, and also none of them. I try very hard to stay separate from my source, so really the things I remember SOLIDLY are the bad stuff that give me phantom pains and make me just. Not have a lower jaw for a bit. That being said, I can think of a few. I remember once in source, Character Steven as it were took me out to see the sunrise one morning. Nothing happened, we just sat in silence in the chilly morning. It was...nice. The other, less romantic one would be when I was a professional Pokemon Breeder. My southern ass was so content telling people to fuck off with my 800 dogs it was GREAT. Doomsday (Houndoom)- BARK! Gambit (Jolteon) - pbfbtbtbtbt

Gold (Self Explanatory) - Aw, jeez, uhm. I guess winning the champion match was cool! I really miss that. I miss battling in general :( I DONT miss mt silver tho that place was CREEPY n cold. Not a fan.

Mewtwo -

KILLING THE MEN WHO MADE ME. Mike (Mike Strangled Red) - Sorry, I just got here, and most of the source I remember right now is uh. Dying. That being said, I really enjoyed completing the Pokedex (before THAT) as a whole project. Me and Bill worked on it together--simpler times. Steven (Steven Strangled Red, Custom Story Source)-

I miss feeding Miki breakfast, both the Charizard and the fat calico cat. Does that count? I liked my pokemon....god. My friends...I want to see my pokemon one more time.

Pyrrhic (Demon Possessing Steven)- CONSUMING THE SOULS OF THE INNOCENT. And also my human life before the cartridge, I suppose. I miss that...feeling. The things I did in that world. Rocket (Team Rocket Character Ryan Who also got horribly mauled by his Steven) - I miss my timeline before the distortion world. Yeah, Samson was bad, but at least everything wasn't. AS horrible. My timeline SUCKS, doesn't it. Shit. Uh. I guess I don't have anything specific in that case. Void (Character Ryan that killed God to take his throne) - I don't miss being a God much, I won't lie. There isn't much there for me to talk about in this case. I miss being HUMAN, more than anything. As much as I am TECHNICALLY human NOW, It doesn't FEEL like it. And I kind of miss--knowing. How to be human. In a weird way, I miss watching the fragment of my humanity learn and grow as a real, normal human. Unharmed by the sins of our father. Perhaps something like that.

TTRPG ALTERS

Alexander (Custom World, Pathfinder 2E Wizard Psychic Gnome) - I wish I could see the Eldars one more time. I wish I could make up for the mistakes that I made. But Reliving is not the same as ALTERING. Aegis (Savage Worlds RIFTS, Lyn-Srial Techno-Wizard) - I would like to see my Warband members one more time, like that night before I became a coward. Drinking and Laughing before the ceremony--like nothing bad could ever touch us. I wish it was that simple. I wish I could rewrite what I did before. Despite what I've seen, I struggle to not see the humanity that has followed as Lesser Beings, sometimes. And I wish that was a mindset I could stop at will like so many other thoughts that cloud my mind.

Phantom (1) (Traveller, Resident/"Noble" of Drinax, Psionic) -

Dude that timeline SUCKED. Never ate, never slept, always on drugs, and THEN I became psychic? Fuck. I do miss performing live, though. I was a popular rockstar back then, you know! Or. In that timeline, I guess. That was always fun! Then the voices got me. But, hey, who's counting!

Dark Arts (Traveler, Vargr) - I miss slaughtering my enemies and stealing what was MINE. And perhaps the Passenger Princess who "Employed" me in the end was fun to tease. She was so ballsy, for a rich human! We went gambling, one time! Rigged it. My friend J-Dawg went and purposefully got his ass beat before wrecking someone when all bets were on the other guy and we bet TONS on him! So many credits! Enjoyed Princess. Enjoyed J-Dawg. Enjoyed Crime.

OTHER SOURCES (Youtube CUs, ULTRAKILL, Ace Attorney, Detective Grimoire, Metroid, FNAF, "Dice, Camera, Action!",)

YOUTUBE ALTERS

Anti (Antisepticeye) -

I miss being able to be a menace LET ME OUTTTT LET ME FRONTTTTTTTTTT--

Dark (Darkiplier, custom RP universe) -

I miss my husband tails. I miss him a lot. I'll be back. /ref

As "funny" as that joke answer may be, it's not much of a real one. I miss my wedding night. My husband, John, was always antisocial, to say the least, and neither of us have a lot of real family we'd want to see at a "REAL" wedding. Being what we were, being married in the eyes of the law or "God" meant nothing. So instead we stayed home. We watched movies with the kids and ate snacks. It was a lovely night. I miss them.

Phantom(2) (Phantom NWTB, Custom RP universe) -

I miss being a DRAGON more than anything these days. Yes, I miss my husband and my children, but that ship has sailed and I have moved on. The wound may sting, but it will heal in time. I do miss being able to sit in lava baths and breathe fire, though. And being good at fighting. And being able to change my gender at will. I miss being a demon/dragon, how about that?

For specific memories, I guess I miss being able to flirt freely. Beyond, of course, relationships in reality being what they are, I cannot do that, nor is a traumatized 19 year old female body the IDEAL place to start flirting with anyone I find interesting.

ULTRAKILL

V1 -

I miss being so athletic! I enjoyed being able to jump and run so freely. In that world, nothing mattered but Objective. Is it wrong for me to say it was so freeing?

Of course, not that morals ever played into what I did. I was a machine made for war, after all. That simplifies those things quite a lot.

Gabriel -

There is not many memories I would want to relive. There is many memories I am FORCED to relive, forever. Like a beast hunting me. Stalking me. Safety is never assured, but it never strikes to its fullest power. Always watching.

ACE ATTORNEY

Phoenix Wright -

I miss being a lawyer dawg

Miles Edgeworth - I want to relive a time in which there WASN'T "ALMOST CHRISTMAS MEANS IT WASN'T CHRISTMAS" floating around as a "meme" constantly. /sar

DETECTIVE GRIMOIRE

Grimoire -

The literal first day I showed up as an alter our partner systems host explained Yaoi to me instantly. It's not relevant but I have to get it out there. Anyways as far as "reliving" memories go, I guess I want to relive when I was a detective, yes, but for less...grim, cases, pun not intended? When it wasn't about murder and crime and revenge. Susie -

I should be at the club, bestie. I want to be at the club. /ref

Hawkshaw - I wish to relive a time when my reputation was not tarnished by some murderous hag who used my image to forward her scheme. Does that suffice?

METROID

Metroid - My source is a joke I won't lie. Uhhh. I miss Gron, my metroid brother, does that count? I wanna relive fucking around with him and being annoying to the rest of the swarm.

FNAF

Michael Afton - Uh. Have you seen my source? None of it is good. None of the above.

"DICE, CAMERA, ACTION!"

Paultin Seppa -

I miss my wife tails. I miss her a lot. I'll be back.

[crayonsandclovers]

Hey, I have a genuine question here.

TW: drugs and suicide thoughts mentioned

I'm hanging in a group of friends on our little discord server - there are two groups of dnd players and some of our other friends who don't play too, so not a big community, but 23 people just hanging out and having fun. And there's that one person.

They're autistic and they sound like a low empathy person. And they're also really, really mean to people. It started back when we only hanged out in the first dnd group (let's call it group A). They:

were extremly focused on making our server a safe space, but at the same time they made it terrible for everyone else (even forcing guys with administrator powers to time out others and themselves as in a big community server instead of talking)

calls people fucked up names and even when told to not do that because it's mean and makes others feel terrible they keep doing that because either " but they called me a child!" or "they're just bad as me!!!!" (they weren't)

said that people who smoked weed at least once in their lives are "fucking narcos" and that all the people who do drugs dont deserve to live and should die. They kept saying this despite one friend being visibly disturbed by it and saying that she has other friends fighting addiction. they said they don't understand what it changes.

when we had a big ai discussion and i said that i dont neccesarly think ai is that bad (i had my opinions and some of them got changed, but this isn't the post about it) they yelled at me and called me a monster, a murderer and much more terrible names to the point my suicidal thoughts came back for a short period of time (but they did and that sucked)

constantly states that person who is a friend of a guy who made the bigger server for "only being there because you're friends with moderation!!!!" and calls out their nepotism (when she's genuinely a nice person and we all met on a festival the problem person here wasn't"). One time to the point that person had a panic attack.

Once he got mad that someone from the group chat said they can't wait for a series on Disney+ so bad that he started yelling at them "A KILLER! A MURDERER!" and other fucked up names because they thought that person bought a service and supports israel, but in reality they just reedeemed a code for a free month and were just too scared of the guy to say anything. When I went to dms of that autistic person to talk with them about being way too harsh on the other one, we spent 2 hours just for them to state that they didn't do anything wrong and that "you achieve more with people by fear than by talking".

when one person mentioned that they saw some birds in the park ("i don't know what are these, i dont care about races") the autistic person called them rasist and started comparing them to hitler? i don't remember now, but some dictator and we had to spend 3 hours explaining them that calling someone racist without a reason is a shitty thing to do but they only oblige because the entire server approached them about it even their closest friend.

every problem they take personally, even if it isn't and we usually have to spend multiple hours to explain them this

after calling someone a murderer, monster, or other they talk on a different text chat like nothing is going on and they're still best friends with others, even the people who they accuse of terrible things like 30 seconds ago

and many many more...

The problem is that they always say they dont understand where lays the problem and why are we making the fuss about it all. Recently it got so bad that we discuss banning them from the server once and for all because most of all the people feel either uncomfortable or straight up terrified of this guy. We try to explain things to them in a really patiently, and for some time it worked but they're still calling people awful names and then refuse to apologize because they didn't do anything wrong in their eyes. They make fuzz out of anything and it's hard to say something without them yelling and being awful to others.

We know they have autism and we respect that, that different autistic people have different autistic traits (because they're not the only autistic person in the group). They are going to therapy and say they acknowledge their communication problems. But I don't feel this should like this. That around 20 people fears one guy and then we call all of ius friends. And honestly I struggle with telling if they're like this because they're autistic or if they're like this because they're toxic. (i'm not saying being toxic = being autistic, but i am saying that they express toxic behaviors and i genuinely wonder if they have autistic source or toxicity)

Please, if you have any ideas on how to speak with them so they can understand they're wrong and stop being like this, let me know. I know it's a long post but we are desperate.

Can we please normalize some people not having empathy, or having low empathy.

Sorry that the low to no empathy neurodivergent person doesn't understand why they should apologize for your dog dying. Sorry that they don't see how it's their fault. Maybe you should've asked to vent too, because I know your ass didn't.

[peralta-guaranteed]

good trope or bad trope: one of them waking up from surgery or something and being so high on drugs they forget they're together and the other has to explain it

good trope GOOD trope good trope! and this was probably just a question but I couldn't resiiiist

-*-

It's kind of sad to think about the fact that Amy is already used to monitors beeping in a cold hospital room around her squad and, mostly, around her partner. They've been in so many horrible situations, so many little moments where she's had to worry about them, that today she's almost glad she doesn't have to. Jake's surgery had neither been scheduled nor planned, and there had been a whole lot of panic leading up to it when she drove him to the hospital wincing in pain, his arms clutched around his lower stomach, but the doctor's told her they came in early enough for it to be a more routine procedure rather than an emergency. And now his appendix was out, and he would be hurting and healing for a while, but the trepidation about that is nowhere close to the fear she's used to feeling while sitting in these uncomfortable hospital chairs, wondering when the person in the bed next to her would wake up. The last time she'd been in this position, Rosa was hooked up to so many many more machines, and she looked like a bad wax figurine of herself, all pale and stiff.

Jake looks almost fine, no breathing mask or tube down his nostril, just a little beeping heart monitor and some infusion in his arm. The nurse told her he'd be waking up soon when she lead her into the room, and that they could probably go home later that evening already.

(She also told her that he'd been one of the more amusing patients she'd had under anesthesia, which was not a surprise, and that he'd been asking for her every time he groggily opened his eyes for just a few seconds, which was not a surprise either.)

He blinks awake slowly, eyes darting around the room as if to figure out where he is, before they land on her and stay stuck, his forehead creasing in confusion for a second before he grins.

"Heyyyy, it'sa Santiago!" He tries in a croaky voice, and Amy reaches for the cup of ice water the nurse brought in to hand it to him. He's shaky, but he can handle it alone, she notes almost subconsciously - she remembers enough moments where she's had to feed him ice chips instead because he could barely move his arms.

"Hey." She answers with a softer smile as he gulps down almost the whole cup - considering he still hates water, he must really need it. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, just splendid, thanks." He quips before trying to sit up more and wincing, the stitches in his stomach upset. "What the hell did I do this time to end up here?"

"What?"

"I mean, I don't remember a chase or a fight, but it sure feels like I took a knife to the stomach or something?"

They look at each other, equally confused, before Amy shakes her head.

"You dont remember-? It wasn't a work thing, Jake, your appendix almost burst."

"Ah dang. That's not even a cool story for a new scar." He sighs as he leans back a bit against the pillow and carefully palms the space where she knows the skin is going to be light pink and rougher than usual from now on. "Sorry they made you wait around for my stupid ass to recover, or is the squad at least taking turns?"

She stares at him, her mind racing, and it seems to make him nervous. He's still trying to go for that usual grin, but his eyes are darting around, sticking to parts of her without looking directly into her eyes, and she can see he's getting fidgety. Mixing that with what he's saying, and the way he's saying it - his voice is different, somehow, more - guarded, or distant, it's hard to explain, but she only remembers it from a long time ago - makes her suddenly realise.

He's been given some very heavy duty painkillers and narcotics, she hears the nurse's voice in her head, so he might be disoriented or confused for quite a while. It shows differently in lots of people, so I can't tell you what to expect, but he'll be back to normal once it passes through his system.

He doesn't remember, she thinks. He doesn't remember... a lot.

"Jake." She gets his nervous attention back, trying to school her voice into something calm and friendly, instead of the equally nervous and somewhat excited giggle she wants to let out so bad. "I think you're still working through your medication. Can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?"

He leans back again and stares at the ceiling, and it's hard to read the emotions on his face.

"Just... regular work stuff, to be honest. Nothing big."

"Okay, then what is the last big thing you can think of?"

"Uh." He swallows, and Amy refills his water cup, but he doesn't take it. "I, uh, I remember Hoytsman kidnapping me." He laughs a short laugh, obviously trying to make it seem lighter than it ever was, but that's not the only reason Amy feels her heart jump.

His mind is stuck before their relationship. After Sofia left him. He thinks he's woken up after being injured at work, and there's no one there waiting for him except for a work partner who he's been trying so hard to pretend he doesn't like anymore, and for whom he obviously has to play the "I'm okay!" role still.

"Wow. Uh. Okay." She babbles, trying to find a way to be gentle and not confuse him any more. "Then, uh, I guess, well, your medication should pass soon, I think, and you'll remember more, so don't worry-"

"Amy." He's staring at her when she finally looks up, and notes her shorter hair, her far more comfortable outfit than the pantsuits he sees her wear at work, and even while high on drugs it's not that hard for him to put two and two together. "How much am I missing?"

"Quite a lot." She finally admits, but drops her look down into her lap, to her folded hands, and she unconsciously covers her wedding ring before he can see it. "A few years."

"Years?!" He squeals while leaning forward and then groans, because that has definitely upset his wound.

"It's okay, the nurse said it would happen." She quickly tries to calm him. "It's - you'll remember when the anaesthetic passes properly, so it's alright."

"Alright, yeah." He nods and finally settles into the pillow again, as silence envelops them for a few awkward moments, in which Amy's mind races through all the things he's missing right now.

"Okay." He interrupts her sad little mental storybook of their life's drama. "Let's play a game until then, huh? I call it 'Shock&Tell'."

"Jake-"

"It's easy, you'll get the rules. Basically, you tell me stuff I don't know right now and see how shocked you can get me."

"That's not funny-"

"Oh, I think it is. I know how much you like to have me speechless." He grins at her, and she can't resist.

"Title of your sex tape."

"Amy Santiago!" He gasps with a laugh, but there's hesitation in his eyes, and she remembers they weren't exactly at a flirting stage back where he is right now. "For that alone, you have to play a round with me."

"I can't think of anything shocking at the moment." She lies, and he sees right through her.

"Okay, then tell me the worst thing you think happens to me in those years, and the best. From your opinion."

She sighs and stares at her hands again, but she knows he won't let up - he's not gotten any less obnoxious from back then to now.

"Alright. The worst thing. You went to jail." She states, matter of fact, and watches his eyes practically bulge out of his head.

"Holy shi- WhAT?! Like, for a crime? Or-what-did I-what?!"

"You were innocent!" She says as fast as she can, and watches him deflate only a little.

"I sure fucking hope so! But still, what- how- why- ?"

"You and Rosa were framed by a criminally corrupt cop. It took us a few months to get evidence against her and have her sentenced instead."

"A few months." He whispers and stares at his hands, scrunching up the blanket he's wrapped in.

"You weren't alone." Her voice is soft and calm now, seeing him in such a state of unrest, and it takes all she has not to pull him into a hug - it'd probably both confuse and actually hurt him right now, given the stitches. "I mean, you were alone in prison, but we- the squad - we were all fighting for you and Rosa, and Charles and I visited you, and we- I- we never gave up on you."

He smiles, soft and a little broken, but he nods, as if that was something he'd always expect.

"Okay, now the best thing. Because lemme tell you, Santiago, you have to make up for that suckerpunch."

She smiles much wider now, almost grins as she leans forward to finally reach for his hand, entangling their fingers (to which he goes along almost automatically) and feeling her rings clink against the one on his. Jake's eyes are frozen on her hand in his, where he can see a shiny wedding band over what is clearly his Nana's old engagement ring, and he's barely breathing.

"Oh my god." He whispers a moment later, squeezing her hand almost painfully tight as he looks at her again, and she's still smiling.

"We're married?"

"Yeah."

"To- to each other?"

"Yeah, you doofus." She laughs.

"I'm- I'm your husband." He whispers again. "Even thought I went to jail?!"

"Well", she still laughs softly at the absolute shine in his eyes, the awe on his face. "You proposed after that. But I would've married you before, anyway." I would've married you before a lot of things you don't remember, she thinks but doesn't dare say, for fear he'll ask about those other things.

"You're my wife." He says, still stunned, and she nods. "We're married."

She nods again, and watches as the confused awe on his face turns into an almost relieved joy, and his bottom lip trembles as tears start rolling down his cheeks.

"Jake..." She whispers in turn now, her free hand (that is not currently being gripped by both of his) cupping his face and wiping away some of the tears that keep flowing.

"You're happy?" He asks with trepidation in his voice, and Amy wonders if the emotional rollercoaster is another side-effect of his medicine or just his lowered inhibitions. "I'm a good husband?"

"I couldn't wish for a better husband. You make me very happy." She's almost close to tears now herself. "I love you so much."

He gasps at that, and pulls her still gripped hand up to his face, pulling her closer to him in the process.

"I love you, Amy." is his answer, and she realises he means it, even with all the things he doesn't remember, all the things he doesn't know yet. "I love you so much. I can't believe I get to marry you."

His tears have calmed down a little by now, and she fixes her awkward pose of leaning forward and having both arms reach for his face by climbing up onto the bed with him, as he lowers their hands and looks at her with stars in his eyes and so much love on his face, she can't resist to pass the last few inches and kiss him.

His eyes are still closed when she pulls back and touches her forehead to his, and he's whispering again.

"Wow."

"Well, that's certainly an appreciated reaction." She giggles.

"Don't tell me I don't react like that every time you kiss me, because there's no way I'll believe that."

"Yeah." She smiles again as he opens his eyes and smiles back. "Yeah, you kinda do."

And just to prove it, she kisses him again.

[2021fuckitup]

“ WE GET HIGH WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM OUR FRIENDS”

Helpful hints for newborn to old fuckers...

Why A Torch Lighter Is Ideal:-Your product liquifies, then smokes, almost instantly

-It is MUCH easier to control the direction the meth flows, as well as what is receiving heat

-You can get MUCH bigger hits

-You can avoid burning it so much easier than with other flames

-No flickering flame

-Butane refills are cheap as fucking shit (I got a hairspray-sized bottle of Zippo butane for the price of 2 disposable lighters)

-Don’t burn your thumb as much

-Sessions can be initiated and/or finished faster

Downsides-If you don’t pay attention, you can burn the shit out of your product, or yourself. BE CAREFUL, PAY ATTENTION, AND BE PATIENT

-Smoke through your stash quicker

-Possibly worse burns because its hotter than a bic

How to smoke meth with torch lighter for beginners:

1)First ensure that your pipe is clean.

Why?

For the ice to smoke properly. DO NOT load fresh product in a pipe with product that has been smoked, burned, or otherwise heated. If you load fresh on top of a still smokable bowl, the new and old will melt/smoke at different speeds/temperatures (can’t remember which is which right now, but I think old smokes faster), ensuing that it is very difficult to evenly heat the product. Then you get spots where part of the crystalized mass liquifies and will move with the flame, but some of it needs more heat, and for me at least, some always gets burned or darkened, and has a bad taste. If you load fresh product in a pipe with burnt shit in there, IT WILL TASTE LIKE SHIT. It will often also not melt/smoke right, AND your new stuff will taste like burnt stuff, which is THE WORST taste in the world (IM0). (FYI-I’ve heard that blowing cigarette smoke through a oil pipe (like you were going to hit it, but exhaling smoke through it instead) removes the taste. I have tried with pot smoke and it didn’t work, but have read many people say that cigarettes work.

How to Clean the Inside of A Pipe-If it is not clean, a very easy method is to fill a microwavable container (like a coffee mug) with 50% water, 50% bleach, and put the pipe (bowl facing downwards) in the water.

-Put it in the microwave for 4 minutes (yes, seriously that long-I tried after 1, 2, and 3 minutes and it didn’t work. May even take 5.)

-Let cool. Once cooled, remove from mug and drain all water.

-Using Q-tips, insert through carb hole and “mop up” the stuff left in the bowl. This may take several qtips depending on the bowl. If there is still black/brown stuff in the bowl, apply more pressure

(be careful not to break the bowl by pressing the q tip too hard on the sphere, OR accidentally pressing on the side of the carb when trying to reach around inside with q tip.) If there is still stuff in there, I have read that small bits of Magic Eraser stuffed in, and manipulated with a pole (like a q tip) work wonders, but also have not tried.

How to Clean the Outside of a PiPE

-Using a wet rag, or balled-up wet paper towels/toilet paper/napkins/etc, rub the outside of the bowl. This should cause the stuff on the outside to transfer onto the paper.

-If this doesn’t work, steel wool may work.

Handling/Prepping Product

-Dont handle meth by hand. It’s bad for your skin, and little amounts will dissolve. Instead, use:

Ideally: a 7/11 straw (this is a straw whose last inch or so is a scoop, sometimes used for slurpees or w/e those frozen drinks are; these straws I have found to be ideal for handling all sorts of drugs).

Realistically: Normal Straw: Straw been sealed on one end (tape, seal it with flame), and on the other has a 45 degree angle (45 degree is diagonal; if you cut a square in half diagonally, the diagonal line is 45). This allows you to scoop small fragments out of a bag, tin, or other carrying device easily, as the angled mouth scoops up crumbs, especially in corners of bags; while the sealed back prevents any from accidentally spilling.

Size/Shape

-Make sure your product is all of the same consistency. I find it best to use one crystal, preferably large (but not to large). I find the size of a tic tac, or slightly larger, to be ideal. Also, cubic or rectangular is best possible shape IME. I will often break long, skinny crystals because they dont burn as well as more square ones, and broken into small squares, they will smoke more evenly.

-While you can load bigger crystals with smaller bits/shake, I generally find it is best to load similar sized rocks. That is, load all shake, load two or three crystals of equal size, or put one crystal in there (usually a big one).

-If you need to break a crystal into smaller bits to make equal sized crystals (or to make odd shaped crystal more square), place a sanitary, nonabsorbent material on top of/around the crystal (no dollars bills here, printer paper works great.) and either snap it in two, or push against a surface. If pressing, you can use a finger, debit card, whatever, just slowly apply more pressure so you can crush to consistency of your liking. If you crush it all the way, you have shake(aka powder).

Differences Between Methods

Single Crystal (often large): Crystal will slowly lose mass as it melts, evenly becoming a pool (as long as you thoroughly spread it around the bowl).

Multiple Little Ones: If you evenly heat them: Will slowly melt into each other. Will be left with a very spread-out puddle, possibly multiple spread out ones.

If unevenly heated: There will be areas meth of varying thickness, accompanied by uneven melting and probable darkening/burning,.

Shake: Will liquify very quickly; little bits that haven’t yet been heated may go to weird parts of the bowl when you begin twisting, so you end up with tiny blotches and a single large or a few smaller puddles.

Loading Product

-Using straw, scoop your product into the chamber. Keeping upright, grab oil pipe and tilt at an angle so that the carb is pointing sideways, or angled down slightly. This will allow you to insert straw opening into carb before tipping the straw, ensuring you don’t miss the hole and lose any.

-Once inserted, twist pipe (while holding onto straw of course) until carb is once again pointing up. Tap straw to get all the little bits into the pipe (if meth is still sticking, use a scraper of some kind).

-Remove straw, and put pipe on level surface, BETWEEN TWO OBJECTS. THE PIPE WILL ROLL PEOPLE, AND WILL SPILL ALL YOUR GODDAMN PRODUCT AND/OR FALL ON THE FLOOR AND BREAK. UGH!

Now that you have a loaded pipe, ensure that you are ready to begin. Suggestions include

-Water

(lots of it!!) Both meth and smoking dehydrate you, and the more dehydrated you are, the more you will suffer from dental damage and brain damage (neurotoxicity). A large amount of methamphetamine neurotoxicity (and most dopamine toxicity) is temperature-dependent, as it often induces hyperthermia (This is similar to MDMA, aka XTC, Molly, rolls, etc). Water cools your body.

You should be urinating with irritating frequency, and should be voiding clear urine, otherwise you are already dehydrated (unless taking assloads of vitamins or something).

-Music

I can’t even describe how much music enhances the experience of smoking meth. It synergizes well-the meth makes the music sound insane, and in turn the music intensifies the high, making me feel even more intelligent/strong/attractive/cool/special. This is the part of the high I crave, and it rarely occurs (at least with the intensity I like) without music.

-Spare lighter/butane refill

When smoking meth, you are always running out of fuel. The spare lighter is also useful because lighters get really hot when ignited for long periods of time (like when smoking meth) and you can swap them out.

-Wet (but not sopping) rag or bundled tissues/paper towels/toilet paper/etc

This is to set the pipe on when not using it (a hot pipe will burn fabrics, fucking up whatever its on as well as the pipe), and to cool down the pipe after a hit. The pipe stays hot for a while, and if you don’t hit it, drugs are being lost/wasted. If you cool the pipe, it will stop heating the drugs faster (duh). Do not do this immediately after getting the pipe really hot-heat and cold on glass can break it. Wait for it to cool slightly, then use it.

When you use the rag to cool underneath liquified dope, it will emit a lot of smoke while crystalizing I read somewhere that the meth actually vaporizes/produces smoke when it hits cooler surface, but I don’t know the validity of that. I do know that cold makes it smoke more though.

-Salt Water

Swishing and gargling salt water while smoking meth (ie after a hit, and definitely after a session) will help prevent canker sores, help kill bacteria (which will inhibit meth mouth) clear mucus in back of throat (which will build up from smoking ice, and may possibly absorb some of it), and prevent sore throat. Its really easy-just add table salt to water (not too much). Some people say to use hot water, but there is more bacteria in hot water pipes, so I use cold.

-Biotene Products

These are oral healthcare products designed to combat dry mouth. There is an oral gel that you kind of spread in your mouth and coats it to act like a artificial saliva. It tastes kinda bad (not awful) and feels weird, but it beats dry/cracking skin, and is good for oral health. They also make alcohol-free (alcohol makes dry mouth worse) mouthwash that I find makes me produce a bnch of saliva for like 10-30 minutes, which can be helpful. They have toothpaste, but that is only to not irritate dry mouth. Finally, they have oral mouthspray, which is apparently the best, but I have not tried yet.

-Weed

Weed makes meth smoking more fun I find. Its hard to describe. Go slow as you may have negative anxiety reaction

Positioning:

The pipe will need to be twisted back and forth, so for me, I hold it in the middle of the stem between my middle finger and thumb. This allows me to easily roll the pipe back and forth. The carb is facing the sky/ceiling, and I have the pipe slanted, so the bowl is slightly closer to the floor than the mouthpiece. This allows me to put my index finger over the mouthpiece. so that when I first heat up the bowl all the initial smoke (that you will not yet inhale because it is not super thick and you want to build up a good hit) goes up the stem and is trapped by my finger rather than out through the little carb hole (which it will do when the stem is filled with smoke). Finally, it also allows me to use my pinky to cover the carb (I rarely do this because often the carb is hot).

Lighter

[Torch] Lighter is held in the other hand, underneath the dope in the bowl. Adjust your flame to lowest setting (if you can). While initially hitting the bowl, since your mouth is not on the mouthpiece, you can hold the pipe in front of you while you heat to gaug distance between flame and bowl, and make sure the flame is under the drugs. However, once you begin inhaling, you have a much worse view (through the bowl), and it is easy to hold the lighter too close (or far, but usually close), or to have it not even under the bowl. Due to poor depth perception (which I assume is from the drugs), or some visual warping from the curvature of the glass, its really easy to do this, and happens a lot. A mirror is helpful so you can see yourself. Another option is attaching flexible tubing (like aquarium tubing) to the mouthpiece so you can inhale through that while holding the pipe in front of you. This will also enable you to make meth bongs (search it).

Philosophy of Smoking Meth

Meth becomes a clear liquid when heated, then vaporizes into a white smoke. The idea is to heat whatever you placei n the pipe evenly so that it all melts down to liquid, then, by twisting the pipe, spread the liquid all around the bowl, so that it doesn’t stay in a hot place for too long and burn. Once liquified, the pipe can be twisted. This allows you to put your flame ahead of the liquid (think of the liquid chasing the flame), so that once the glass is heated, it will fall/roll down the curve towards your lighter and smoke. As you get close carb, you begin to twist the other way, keeping the liquid following your flame. However, with a torch lighter, you can soon twist the pipe without the flame and the liquid will still run for a while, and when it doesn’t is when you reapply the flame.

Quick Info On Torch Lighters

Torch lighters are very hot, much hotter than bics. Their flame is much more intense, and the heat above is much hotter than a bic. Therefore, you must keep much more distance between your lighter and pipe than with a bic. It will vary according to lighter type, pipe thickness, and especially flame size; but my flame is maybe between 1/3 and ½ of an inch, and my lighter stays 1-3 inches away from the pipe; with me increasing distance the longer its lit.

-Also, you do not heat the bowl with a torch lighter for long periods of time like you do a bic. Once it begins to smoke, quit using the lighter, and only reapply once the liquid quits moving when you twist the pipe. Also, be sure to twist pipe while lighting the whole time with a torch lighter, even if it is slowly. You cannot really get away with heating in one spot for a short period of time like you can with a bic.

Smoking

Premelt:

-Keeping your flame 1-2 inches below the bowl, roll flame in a circle around the perimeter of your product, so the outermost portion begins to liquify. Remember to continue moving the flame.

-As it begins to liquify, begin twisting the pipe back and forth. You want to heat the edges of the product and then the glass adjacent to the edges to make it flow there. However, when reversing the direction of the twist, make sure to heat the inside/middle for a moment as well so that it will melt once the dope bordering it has melted.

-Eventually you will have a puddle of liquid that is mobile-stop heating! COntinue to twist the pipe to spread the stuff around and wait for it to recrystalize (turn back into a liquid). You can speed this up by touching pipe with damp rag/paper towels/etc, but I like to let it cool by itself the first time. Wait for the pipe to cool down-its worth it.

Smoking

(this is assuming you are covering the mouthpiece and have the pipe angled like I mentioned in positioning)

-Now you should have a thin puddle of clear crystals stuff. Once again, heat with flame around the perimeter (much bigger this time, but it will also melt faster now because its thinner). Once melted, it should soon begin to smoke. Cease lighting once it begins smoking a fair bit and continue to twist.

-Because you have your finger over the mouthpiece and the pipe angled, the hot vapor will travel up the stem, and be trapped. Once vapor begins to emerge out of the carb hole, quickly take your finger off the stem and begin inhaling (do this quick because the stem is filled with vapor).

To Inhale:

You do not need to actually suck most of the time. With the pipe angled, simply forming a seal on the mouthpiece is usually enough, and if you have to inhale, do not suck like smoking. Instead, inhale like you are breathing but VERY slowly/softly. It takes very little pressure and the bigger hit you get, the better IMO.

Reheating

Use the torch for very brief periods of time. Once the liquid is moving and smoking agian, stop. You can also use more, but never use less once its burned.

Finishing your hit:

If your lungs are full and it is still smoking, cover the carb and mouthpiece and continue twisting. I like to hold my hits for 4-8 seconds, some say blow out right away, but I dont like that. You can also use a damp rag or damp paper towels/toilet paper/napkins/etc and wipe the bowl, to cool it down and make the liquid recrystalize faster (dont do this when the bowl is still super hot because it can break it). This will make it smoke a lot for a second so I like to do it while inhaling.

For Experienced Users:I have found the torch lighter to be far superior to the bic. With the bic, I would experience uneven and slow heating/melting. Now, I have almost instantaneous liquification, followed by thick smoke, and as long as I use the torch sparingly, no darkening of product. The trick is to be patient and methodical:

-Use the torch 1-3 inches away from the bowl

-Move it quickly

-“Encourage” the liquid to trael all over the bowl by leading it with the flame

-Use inward swirling movements, especially during the melting phase

-I recommend using single, squareish crystals for this.

[impaladolan]

What if y/n tried to sneak out again and ends up opening a door and it’s literally a conference room and grays ins sitting head of the table and it’s filled w mafia men lmaooo and she’s just like oh sorry was looking for the bathroom which is an obvious lie cos girl has one in her room and she runs away and one of them catch her and take back to grays I mean does he punish her in front of the men girl that’s up to you but even if he doesn’t I feel like it’s like a lowkey funny concept like poor girl she just tryna escape hahaha

Anonymous said

i think it would be fun if y/n just constantly winds up him now in hopes he will get sick of her antics and just tell her everything hehe like maybe one day she steals his rolex, smashes all the plates lmaoo idk now that i type that out i feel like he won’t care and just spank her ass every time (which i highly doubt she’s gonna complain about lol)

Capture - Grayson Dolan [7/-]

summary: y/n has always been a curious women, but when she stumbles upon something she’s not supposed to.. things become too much to handle...

warnings: swearing & humiliation/degradation..

a/n: do y’all want to do tags @?? and also, thank you sweet anons for the prompts! love you all 💕

The events to which had pertained early this morning continuously played on a loop in your head. Rerun after rerun, and you never ran out of film. It really made you question your decision-making skills, or rather any of the skills and manners you have acquired in your short time of living. You couldn't help the "imbalance of homeostasis" moreover your impulsive, fluctuant feelings that would come over you like a rushing water at times. It really made everything a bit more difficult to understand. In shorter terms;

What the hell even happened?

You couldn't deny or even feel guilty for the wrongdoings of this morning, but nor could you exactly excuse them. Yes, it was a heat of the moment type of thing and you really should have expected him to come barging in like that, but it still had taken you off guard. Although, when you think back to what happened, you don't regret it.

You miss it.

You miss the way it felt, to be sat atop of him and needing for his scared touch. He was like a drug. An addictive, life sucking drug that wouldn't wash away from your mind. He was all you could think about.

He is all you can think about.

The wanting demand to know his name, the request to see his godawful handsome face, the aching of his touch. Everything about him was mysterious and daunting. He drew you in, like a magnet against steel. The burning desire you have for him doesn't make sense.

How could you be in love with someone you barely know? Someone who had taken you away from everything you've ever known. A man that knows the ins and outs of you, yet you couldn't even recognize his name?

It feels like a game. A stupid, twisted fucking game that you're bound to lose to.

Sighing to your intrusive thoughts, you blow a wavering piece of hair from your face. You were stuffed under the lengthy duvet and your eyes were directed at the spinning ceiling fan above. The industrial, artificial wind-making machine upwards reminded you of a similar one placed in your room at home. Of course, this one didn't have a squeak but it still made the pit of your stomach drop in an agony-filled remembrance of home. It feels like forever ago when you used to run every morning. The feel of the harsh wind against your cheeks and the subtle pumping of your heart was washed away with the same old gray walls that you were enclosed by every single waking moment.

The sudden thought of just that sparked energy within you.

You were pretty exhausted from prior events and you thought you’d be able to get a nap or two in. But your overthinking and legitimate thoughts clouded your head and you just couldn’t find a way to sleep properly. Although now, you were ready to explore.

Well, explore the kitchen.

The mere thought of a tall glass of iced water sounds satisfactory. Especially for your often dry throat. So, you hassled out of the flooding white covers and marched straight to the door, pulling down the only thing that covers you; a large white t-shirt— presumably his. The urge to soothe the parchedness that swirled within you only strengthened as you trekked past the door and into the ominous hallway. You werent for sure if he was home or not, but at this point it really didn't matter. You were thirsty and you were gonna do something about it, one way or another.

You retraced your steps from only a few days beforehand, when you had tried to escape, which had ended in complete failure. Thinking back to it, it surprises you that he actually knew you were in the walk-in pantry the entire time.

It seems like he knows just about everything.

Like you remembered, the hall opened up into a large, modern looking kitchen that could possibly sustain an expensive restaurant if it really had to. Before you could pause in absolute awe by just gaping at it, you get straight to work in finding a glass. You swung open most of the cabinet doors, opening to mainly spice racks and pots/pans that looked pricier than your own vehicle. You finally found something that could fit the desired contents and you went straight for the fridge. Just as quickly, you dip your cup in the little boxed formation and listen to the ice cubes soothingly fall. You didn't even worry about the deafening bangs of the cubes as they fell from the dispenser, or the crackling or the cool water slipping down and around their entirety.

God, it looks like heaven.

You bring the cylindrical shape up to your lips and let the freezing water slip down your tongue and throughout your body. It cured any and everything that seemed to be wrong, at least for the moment. You dont stop your drinking until the water is fully ingested and the ice begins to burn the tip of your nose. You place the glass carefully on the counter and deeply inhale, shutting your eyes for a brief moment to think.

You’re tired of staying in that room all damn day, and you need a change of scenery. You know there’s got to be way more in this house than just the couple rooms you’ve ventured in, and what’s the worst that could happen?

Aww, he spanks your ass again?

Like that would solve anything anyway. He should know by now that it affects you differently. He seems to know everything else about you. It’s actually really frustrating. For him to know all the details and you’re left in the weird gray area that’s clueless and dumb. It makes you so aggravated and angered, and you wanted to oh so bad, put your foot down in some way.

So, that’s what you’ll do.

A devilish grin comes across your face as you leave the kitchen, waltzing into the dining area with scouring eyes. What could you possibly do to make the “almighty capturer” upset? The first thing to come across your head was unorganization.

He seems like a perfectionist, someone who likes everything put in their exact places and to not be tampered with. You share that similar quality, but you aren’t an extremist like him.

You first lay your eyes on the dining room table, the centerpiece along with the runner looking a little too nice. With a sense of urgency, you decide sabotage. Firstly, you grab the extravagant-looking art sculpture and set it on the floor. After, you crumple the cloth underneath it. With an odd smirk, you pull out all the chairs in not so orderly fashion.

Wow, Y/N, you really did some damage..

Taking a couple steps back to look at the petty mess you've made, a chuckle erupts from your mouth and you sigh yet again. You shrug the simplicity away from your head and continue your walking. You come about a spiraling staircase and instantly begin to climb it, eager to see the upper floor’s decor. Your hand slides against the railing as you become steps closer to your desired destination, another chic and modern looking domain before your eyes. Unlike the downstairs, this room held a lot more art work and a certain professionality you couldn't begin to explain, but you continued to move forward. You approach another hallway, except this one withheld a deadend, large double doors that open outward. It somehow gained your attention and you couldn't help but want a quick look inside. Nothing was really stopping you and there are no signs of him around, so why not?

You didn’t really need an answer, you just went ahead and did what was on your mind. Exerting the small amount of force needed to push down the handles, you pull the doors open wide and focus your eyes on the room’s interior.

Men, sat all along a table that led all the way up to him.

Your eyes widen in immediate shock and your jaw drops open. All of their heads turn in the direction of a barely dressed girl standing in the doorway, disrupting the importance of a meeting with their leaders.

You.

Papers were strung all over the long piece of oak and there was bustling before you rudely interrupted their transactions and communicating, but you were too frozen to react or runaway.

“What the fuck are you doing up here, Y/N?” He said your name with such a deep and dark mannerism, it made your pussy throb unexpectedly. “I- Uhm, I.. Bathroom?” Words wouldn’t come out straight, no matter how hard you tried. You felt the stares of a million, but you could only focus your gaze on him.

And he looks furious.

What could you do to escape all of this? Well, running actually. You take off just as you see him get up from his seat. You speed back down the hallway you first walked down and curved through the different paths you had taken prior. The faint “go fucking get her” that spilled from his lips had made it to your ears and a certain fear ignited within you.

You could hear the footsteps behind you, but you didn’t stop. You were almost down the steps, until that menacing touch of someone grabbing you right before freedom— immersed around you. You knew it wasn’t his arms wrapped around you, but you didn’t dare look back to see whose it actually was. You wanted to cry, struggling to stay in his grasp as he lifted you back up and into the meeting room from whence you came.

“Let her down, Marc.” His wondrous voice filled your ears and you’ve never felt so secure yet troubled in your entire lifetime. The large arms unraveled from around you and you were softly placed on the ground. You didn’t dare to look up, but instead focus on the ground beneath you.

“Get your ass over here, slut.” His dark voice filled the quiet room, and your heart plummeted at the sound of such a slur. Sadly, you could only listen to him, so you walk carefully around the table, making your way to his perch. You weren’t even fully near him until his arm reached out and clutched your wrist, forcefully pulling you towards him. He roughly laid you over his lap, in front of everyone, and pulled up the bottom of your shirt, allowing every eye to see you lower half nakedness.

And just like the early morning prospects, an echoing slap to your ass filled the room’s silence. “This is what fucking happens, Y/N. When you disobey me.” You could tell his jaw was clenched and his face was red with anger by the way he was talking. Tears began to form in your eyes, but not from the pain, but from the embarrassment.

How’re you supposed to face all the people in this room, after getting an ass whooping for the second time today?

“Guess you don’t know how to fuckin’ listen well, do you Y/N?” He kept saying your name like it was some kind of extravaganza, which humiliated you all the more. You didn’t want everyone to know who you are, laid across a grown man’s lap and getting seriously aroused amidst people.

Out of the blue, he wraps his hand around the back of your neck to pull you back up to face him, a dark red spread across your cheeks. “Lucky I don’t make you suck my fuckin’ cock in front of all of ‘em. Then they’d know you aren’t such a bad little girl, wouldn’t they?” He whispers against your ear as he sets you on his knee, facing the direction of the stone cold men veering their eyes on everything but you— away from the awful scene.

You shake your head to his words, feeling his large hands linger under your shirt. “Don’t think so? Would that embarrass you, sweetheart? Cause I couldn’t give a less fuck about that right now.” His hands continue to travel upwards, wrapping around the both of your unclothed breasts, the thin shirt material not doing much justice.

“Please, no. I-I’ll do whatever you want, just please— not here.” With those words of plea, you cross your arms over his hands and train your eyes to the floor in humiliation.

“Get back to you room, and don’t leave it. You’re on thin fucking ice, princess.”

to be continued...

a/n: don’t ask me why, i really don’t know why he has such an affinity for spanking her 🤷‍♀️ and it’s also 1:00 am that I finally finished this.. procrastination at its finest..

[angeloncewas]

Setting a Trap

Wilbur & Tommy - based on this post

Read it on Ao3

-

"You're cheating!"

"What? No I'm not."

Wilbur slams his hands down on the void-floor and the cards rustle slightly, as though they're reacting to his outrage. He points at the last one Tommy placed - a five of hearts - with an accusing finger.

"You can't put two reds together."

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Not with that attitude you can't."

"Tommy I swear-"

"Wilbur," Tommy interrupts. "Big man. Big W."

Wilbur picks up the offending card and shoves it toward him. "What?"

"I," Tommy announces dramatically, "never learned how to play solitare."

"Wh- How do you not know how to play solitare?" Wilbur's voice pitches higher, indignation raw in his tone, and Tommy laughs before rifling the cards so that they layer over each other in a haphazard mess.

It's been weeks now, according to Schlatt. He shows up occasionally, with a strangled groan and muttered words in the very same voice that once kicked Tommy out of his country. Mexican Dream comes running by sometimes too, always boisterous despite everything, but mostly it's just him and Wilbur.

The void is dark. Tommy's eyes have adjusted to the dimness, for the most part, but there are moments in which he'll remember where exactly he is and what's happening and it'll all feel suffocating again. The space is endless and that only makes it more restrictive; in a sense, death is just a bigger prison cell.

Tommy breathes in a shaky breath at his own thought-spiral of what came before, a bruise across his ribs and the fabric of the universe pulling him apart. He's grateful that Dream is not with him, he will put up with a hundred loops of Mexican Dream's music for that small grace, but he still shudders at the memory of his final death.

"Go see him," Dream had said, about Schlatt. Schlatt is, frankly, the least engaging part of the overall experience. The man has slept through all of Wilbur's speeches and Tommy's shouting and Mexican Dream's... whatever. It's almost impressive.

That doesn't change the fact that Tommy was killed with a purpose - meant to be some kind of interdimensional messenger or something - and he can't shake the feeling that Dream is waiting on the other side.

"What happens if he brings me back?" Tommy asks abruptly.

Wilbur seems unfazed, not even looking up from his reset of the game. "He brings you back, that seems pretty obvious." As he rapidly separates the deck into seven neat little columns, it's made clear how much time Wilbur's spent doing that repeated motion.

"Alright dickhead," Tommy pushes the cards closest to him until they fall out of line and Wilbur scowls, nudging him away. "I meant, what happens to you?"

The silence settles with heavy weight between them, a faint snore from Schlatt somewhere out in the void the only distraction from the sudden still of Wilbur's hands.

"Why do we need to worry about that?" Wilbur says lightly, amicably, distantly. "We're here together. We have solitare." He gestures to the space in front of him and laughs. "We have all the drugs in the world."

Tommy sighs. "I dont - and I can't believe I'm saying this - but I don't want drugs. Drugs won't fix anything."

"Try telling Schlatt that."

"Wil."

"This place isn't so bad, you get used to it-"

"Wil."

"-we were everything wrong with that world and now they're free of us-"

"Wilbur."

"Tommy," Wilbur echoes softly. They're always doing this, always pulling back and forth. Both of them came into the void begging, each for something opposite the other.

They've managed to fall into their old dynamic surprisingly easily, but no matter how many times they discuss it, Wilbur never seems to understand why Tommy still wants to be more than a limp body on an obsidian floor.

"You've gotta have a plan," Tommy insists. He knows Wilbur too well to believe that there's not at least a hint of an idea buzzing around the man's head. "You always have a plan."

Wilbur's answering smile is small and secretive and Tommy, for a second, feels caught somewhere between pieces of the past. Like he's still in his revolutionary uniform, or he's sitting down in a ravine surrounded by a cloud of cigarette smoke, or both; Wilbur's right-hand man in every possible outcome.

"I don't know if it's gonna work," Wilbur warns. It's a rare bit of humility, but maybe it's just for the sake of it because his fingers twirl a queen of spades with nervous energy.

Tommy leans back. "Spit it out."

"If Dream, somehow, does bring you back, Wilbur says carefully, "I need you to act like I'm awful."

"You are awful," Tommy scoffs. "Who plays cards for this long?"

"Tommy."

"Sorry, sorry. Act like you're awful, right. Evil. A 'wrongun.'" He shakes his head. "Why?"

Wilbur presses his fingertips together and leans forward like someone's gonna hear them if they're not careful. Like it's all that time ago again, the two of them forming a plot to corner the drug market in a world that was only just getting to know them. Something about it makes Tommy hurt, but he pushes it aside.

"Dream is never going to give you what you want," Wilbur explains, as though he's pitching a deal. "So you have to get him to believe you don't want it."

"...How?"

Wilbur huffs out a laugh. "That's what the lying's for. Pretend that the thing you want most in the world is for me to be dead and if I know anything about Dream," he gives Tommy a pointed look, "he'll make sure I'm anything but."

"Isn't that..." Tommy hesitates, the image of a distant isle and a trident flight and dynamite sharp in his mind. Those memories will probably never leave him. "Isn't that manipulative?"

The cards in front of them are swept together into a perfect pile with ease and then they're basically back at where they started. Wilbur, the one who knows the game so well he could win it in his sleep. Tommy, its ever-reluctant central player.

"I think," Wilbur says, with all the bluntness of a man who's long-dead, who hasn't seen sun or life or other people in a theoretical eternity, "it's a little late to worry about playing fair."

[withhowsadsteps]

Safe at last - Matthew Connelly (HATYM)

AU Fic. So, HATYM but in the 2020's because I'm a slave of the modern society, lmao.

Warnings: Kearney. You know. Everything that comes with him. Drugs, alcohol, the usual HATYM stuff.

As usual, not proofread. I get the urge to write and if I have time I just write. Bad habits die hard. And it is like 4 am and I'm sleep deprived. Also, please, someone: I dont want to read my texts, give me some new Dean content

-

Matthew and I grew up together. He used to shelter me from any bullies, including one of his best friends Kearney. Kearney wasn't always as awful as he is now, but growing up in a household like his... well no wonder he turned out all twisted. Partying is not my thing, though. I prefer to stay at home or just have a game night with my friends. Or turn on Netflix and watch bad comedies or horror movies. And there was no way to escape the parties anyway. Everyone's snapchat and instagram stories were always filled with videos and pictures of stoned and drunken people.

I was sitting on my bed, my best friend lying next to me, talking about her most recent tinder match, but honestly, I wasn't listening. My eyes were glued on the newest picture Matthew had just minutes ago posted. It was a bit blurry, the neon lights of a party painting his face half blue and half pink. Jen's arms were around his neck. I couldn't help but feel jealous. I wanted MY arms to be around his neck, I wanted his arms to be around my waist.

As soon as my friend noticed my mental absence, she grabbed me by my arm and yanked me up from my bed. "Let's go. You have to tell him. You know their thing did not work out, they are not dating" she basically scolded me. Any of my attempts to stay home were ignored. Soon I found myself at the party, awkwardly standing alone. My friend promised to stay near me, but the tinder-boy was there and, well, he got her attention.

I let out a quiet curse when I spotted Kearney watching me. He winked at me and that made my skin crawl. Hell no. I turned around and started my way to the patio doors. At least I could try and get away from him. "Hey, Y/N, come back here!" Fuckk. You blocked him on every social media site you had. This would not be the first time for him to try and get under my sheets. As a kid, he would bully me relentlessly. But as soon as my boobs grew, the bullying turned to border-line harrasing. He is the reason why I don't hang out with Matthew or Rez too much anymore.

For a while I thought I was safe. No sign of my friend or Matthew, though. So I sat outside and watched the sky or played games on my phone. I was deeply focused on a hard level of my game when I smelled Kearney's cologne and the alcohol in his breath. I felt his arms come and embrace me. "FUCK OFF Joseph, don't you fucking touch me" I screamed and tried to get away from the situation. Obviously, even after lord knows how many drinks and whatever he had taken during the night, he is still stronger than me. Panic kicks in and I start to feel like I'm suffocating. Kearney is not afraid to do whatever he wants to. He is able to grab my face and force his lips on mine, but luckily he is not able to do anything more before my friend with her new fling grab me away from the shithead.

I did not expect to get bruises where Kearney grabbed my face last night, but the bruises are very visible. I turn away from the bathroom mirror, tears burning in my eyes. What the hell was I thinking? Obviously sitting outside alone was not a good idea. Kearney could've done anything. My phone vibrating in my pocket breaks my moment of despair. Matthew. He is facetiming me. I can't show him my face like this. No way. Hell, I will have to put a shit ton of makeup on my face just to hide the bruises from my parents.

Every five minutes my phone rings. It is Matthew and I don't pick up. Apparently he is not going to give up, though. The doorbell rings and I got no choice but go and open it. "I'm so fucking sorry" Matthew looks basically even worse than you. "I should've been there Y/N. I fucking should have been there" his voice breaks when he grabs me and hugs me tightly. And then I break down and the tears start flowing.

For the rest of the day, I stayed in Matthew's arms. Sometimes I cried. Sometimes I laughed at something he said. And sometimes we just sat silently and watched the TV. "I promise I'll never let him touch you again" he whispers in my ear. "And how are you going to do that, huh? Mattie, you're never around me. You're partying, smoking whatever and drinking. Making out with Jen. Oh, how do you think she'll react when she finds out you're here comforting me?" "Jen is... it's just a friends-with-benefits situation" "You didn't answer my first question" "What if I'll make you mine? Do you think that would solve the problem?" I turn my head quickly towards him, shocked. "Mattie, don't you fucking dare prank me" "I've loved you since we were kids, Y/N, why would I lie to you?"

I don't know what to say to him. I'm completely speechless. And so tired, too. The shock of yesterday drained me completely. He very gently presses his lips on one bruise, then the next. "I'll make sure no one hurts you, ever again" he mumbles against my skin, sending shivers down my spine. Before I can say anything, his lips come up to mine. And I feel safe. At last.

[rowanwhitethornisbae]

Liabilities Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for taking so long for this next update!! Warnings for this are the same as all other chapters. Beware this is heavy chapter! I promise it pretty much goes completely uphill from here. 

liabilities masterlist

Rowan Whitethorn had never been this bored in his entire life. Or at least since 8 o clock, when Aelin had kissed his cheek and abandoned him to suffer through calculus all alone. She had been bouncing on her toes all morning, nervous beyond belief about seeing Lorcan for the first time since they'd slept together. Rowan had tried to calm her nerves while simaltaneously trying not to vomit and the thought of his two friends doing ... well that.

Now, he was sitting in the back of Mr. Faliq's class, doodling aimlessly on the front of his textbook. Math had never been Rowan's best subject anyway. Infact, the only reason he'd taken it was so that he and Aelin might have at least one class together. With her wanting to be a doctor and him wanting to be a lawyer, their senior year courses didnt exactly cross over. Unfourtunately, it hadnt worked out, and Rowan had a whole semester to suffer through whatever this was without his best friend beside him.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the bell to signal the end of first period sounded throughout the room. Rowan was out of his seat and across the room before the rest of class had even begun packing their books. Once he was out in the hallway, he felt like he could finally breathe again. Rowan really needed to think about dropping that course, he'd even take art at this point. An image popped into his head of the last thing he'd tried to paint, a picture for Aelin that had turned into more of a brown blob than anything. Laughing, he walked down the hall towards Aelin's class. Students were beginning to pour out of classrooms and he spotted his friends down the hall.

They were standing by Lorcan's locker, the tall male leaning his head against the wall. He looked positively miserable as he toyed with the strap of his bag, doing practicaly anything to avoid Aelin's gaze. Still, she was looking right at him, gesturing wildly with her hands. Rowan hung back for a moment to watch, not wanting to interupt. After a few more seconds of talking to no one, Aelin socked Lorcan in the arm. Rowan could almost here him groan as he finally looked down at Aelin. She looked relieved as she launched into speaking all over again. When she was done, Aelin paused, apprehension shining in her eyes. Lorcan hesitated a moment before sighing and folding her into his arms. Her shoulders slumped with relief as she hugged him back. When they finally pulled away, Aelin was positively beaming and Rowan couldn't hold back the smile that tugged at his lips in response.

Still smiling, Aelin grabbed Lorcan's hand and pulled him down the hall towards Rowan. Just before they got withing hearing distance Aelin said something to Lorcan that made his head tip back in laughter. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they reached Rowan.

They stopped infront of him and Lorcan looked up at Rowan slowly. Aelin surveyed the two males tentatively, as if preparing to seperate a fight.

"Hey." Lorcan said at last, his low voice rougher than normal.

"Hey." Rowan replied, nodding his head slightly.

Just as the silence became unbearably thick, a cheerful voice broke through the haze.

"Hey guys." Fenrys said, throwing his arm around Aelin. "I haven't seen any of you since the party, how were your weekends?"

"Totally normal." Aelin blurted at the same time that Lorcan said. "Nothing special."

Fenrys brows narrowed but he didnt push it. "Um okay. What about you Rowan?"

"Shitty." He admitted, avoiding anyone but Fenrys' gaze.

"Aw sorry about that man. I saw you leave the party alone, that sucks. It's been a while since you got laid huh."

Rowan couldnt stop the blush forming. "Uh yeah I dont know, I guess it depends on your definition of a while."

"Wasn't the last one Remelle?" Fenrys asked. Gods sometimes he just wanted to punch Fenrys out.

"Remelle." Aelin blurted. "Rowan that was all the way back in July. Its been like three months."

He was definetly blushing now. Remelle had been his last failed attempt at getting over his being in love with Aelin. He’d thrown up as soon as he’d left their room and from that moment on just touching other women had made him feel slightly nauseous. 

“Yeah well I just haven't really clicked with anyone since I guess.” He stumbled over his words. Lorcan was shooting him a knowing look that Rowan pointedly ignored. 

“Whatever.” Fenrys said shrugging. “Where’d you two disappear off too. I could've used some help with clean up.” 

Instantly all three of them looked down at their shoes, shoulders tensed. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Rowan decided to put everyone out of their miseries. 

“They fucked.” He said, his voice carefully exempt of any emotion. 

Fenrys mouth fell wide open. “What.” He paused. “Um Wha- How?” At last he sighed. “WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK.” He half yelled. 

A few freshman walking by giggled and scurried down the hall. 

“Well we were both drunk and not really thinking and somehow we ended up in his bed. But we’re good now so let’s just all forget it ever happened okay?” The plea in Aelin’s voice tightened something in Rowan’s chest. 

Fenrys, who was still staring at Lorcan, his jaw practically on the floor, said nothing. Lorcan swore under his breath and grabbed Fenrys, dragging him down the hall away from Aelin and Rowan. Good, let Lorcan deal with his best friend and Rowan would deal with his. 

They walked down the hall in silence for a few seconds. Rowan fought to hold back everything he wanted to say. He could feel their friendship slowly falling apart, like a burning house. Yet he couldn't say or do anything out of fear that the whole thing would come crumbling down with one wrong touch. Instead, he allowed himself to focus on the pattern of footsteps against the school tile floor. He watched Aelin’s hands swing back and forth, shaking violently. 

“Aelin are you okay?” He asked tentatively. 

She jerked her head towards him, then down to her hands, and then back up again. Eyes still on him, she pulled her sweater down to cover her shaking hands. 

“Um yeah its just... well I stopped the drugs and everything very suddenly and it’s a little hard on my body.” 

“How hard.” He asked, concern shining in his bright green eyes. 

“Most people phase out of the shit I did slowly. Stopping it all at once is hard.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” He didn't raise his voice but his tone was firm in the way that demanded answers. 

She took a long breath in through her nose. “Some vomiting, cold chills and sweating, a pounding headache, shaking, a couple fucked up dreams.” 

“So you’re in withdrawal.” 

“Yeah from like three different things at once.” Aelin let out a small laugh, as if this was all funny for her. 

“Do you want me to take you home?” He offered. 

“What no.” She rolled her ankle around in a circle. “I’ll see you at lunch.” 

Then she was gone. 

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Rowan Whitehorn had thought calculus was the worst class he’d have to suffer through. French, made that course look like a fucking summer breeze. Honestly this class wouldn't even have been that hard if he could speak the language at all. Aelin and him had always wanted to go backpacking through Europe, so when he said he couldn't speak French, she practically signed him up herself. 

“Rowan.” A voice snapped him out of his daze. The principal was standing in the class doorway, panting, as if she’d ran here. The look in her eyes made Rowan’s heart lurch forward in his chest. 

“Yeah,” He said, already walking towards her. 

“Come with me.” Then they were walking swiftly down the hall.

“What’s going on?” A part of him didn't really want an answer. 

The principal swallowed and began jogging down the hall. “It’s Aelin.” 

A part of him had already known. Had wanted it to be false, but known all the same. Still, it didn't stop the panic that seized him so completely, had him practically running down the halls now, feed sliding on the freshly cleaned tile. 

The rounded the corner and Rowan stopped dead on his feet. There, sitting against the wall just outside her art classroom, was Aelin. Her arms were wrapped around her petite frame, as if she could hold herself together. She was shaking uncontrollably, her head buried in her knees. Even from a few metres away, Rowan could hear how she tried and failed to gulp down air. There were no tears on her face, just blind panic. Fenrys was kneeling in front of her, a panicked expression on his face and he tried to calm her down. 

Rowan ignore the small puddle of vomit on the floor as he pushed Fenrys away and kneeled before Aelin. He was close enough now to hear her muttering something, words he couldn't decipher. 

Ever so carefully, he grabbed her violently seizing wrists and pried them from her knees. Her hands were freezing cold, and Rowan resisted the urge to drop them. Instead, he covered them with his own and waited for her to look at him. 

“Aelin” He said softly, failing to hide the pain in his voice. “Look at me love.” 

She didn't. Some of the shaking in her hands had ceased though, becoming more tremors than anything. 

“Aelin everything is going to be okay. I can help you alright. I just need you to look at me.” 

Slowly, so slow that he felt as though time itself had been warped, she lifted those blue eyes to his own. He stared at her broken face, letting her know that he saw every part of her and was not afraid. 

“Just breathe with me.” He took one of her hands and placed it against his chest. “Just like this.” 

He inhaled slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. After a brief second of hesitation, Aelin did the same. 

“Good.” He murmured softly, and repeated the action. “You’re doing so good.” 

He continued to breathe in and out until Aelin’s own breath had steadied. Even then, he refused to remove her hand from his chest. 

At long last, she spoke. “I don't know what happened.” The words came out scratchy. “One second I was painting, green flowers like your eyes. Then someone spilled red paint on the floor. It looked like blood Rowan. Like his blood all over the tile. Suddenly the walls started closing in and I couldn't breathe. There was blood everywhere and he was dying all over again and I just couldn't fucking breathe.” A strangled cry broke from her lips on the last words. 

“We’re going to go home now okay? I’m going to take you home.” He paused to weigh her reaction. She tried to stand up but her legs were shaking so much that it didn't work. Instead, she collapsed back down withe another small broke sob. Rowan’s fucking heart was shattering. 

“Can I pick you up?” He asked. Her small nod was answer enough. Leaning down, he curled one arm under her legs and the other below her neck. Still shaking slightly, she buried her head in his chest, as if hiding from the rest of the world. 

The principal was still staring at them in shock. Fenrys must've gone to get Lorcan who was now watching Rowan and Aelin with pure devastation on his face. “We’ll be by later.” Lorcan said as they passed. 

“Alright.” 

When they reached Rowan’s car, he placed Aelin in the passenger seat before climbing in as well. 

“Thank you.” Her words carried some of that fearless strength and determination he’d missed. “For everything. You have no idea what it means to me. I honestly don't think i’d still be here without you Ro.”

“Anytime.” He tried not to focus on the deja vu of this situation. Tried and failed to forget that it was barely two days ago when he’d placed a shaking Aelin in the front seat of his car. He was always saving her, not that he had minded much before. But now, as they pulled out of the parking lot, Rowan wondered if maybe there was more out there.

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tags: 

@queen-of-glass

@courtofjurdan

@fictional-horan

@bamchickawowow

[smitethestate]

oh if you dont mind saying, what did you not like about the game? i thought it handled some issues pretty well, i liked it better than the first one

Okay this is about Life is Strange 2 and I’m gonna have to include spoilers so WARNING LIFE IS STRANGE 2 SPOILERS AHEAD WEEOO WEEOO WEEOO:

The thing I liked least about the game ultimately is that there are really no good endings. It’s clear that the ending that is supposed to be the best one is you surrendering to the cops and going to prison for 15 years, and even at then end of the cut scene ending on that when you’re back camping with your brother when you get out, for some reason they felt the need to throw on Sean leaving for somewhere who even knows where or why and Daniel crying. I get that this series is like anti-happy endings but COME ON.

Then there are so many things that either aren’t believable, don’t make sense, or aren’t explained. 15 years for a Mexican teen who they think killed a cop on top of many other crimes? He would have gotten life, if tried in Washington. 

I think a big part of the problem for me is that I really wanted to play the game as the world’s best big brother. I focused on protecting Daniel and doing everything I could to keep him safe. I didn’t refuse to steal money from a drug lord because Crime is Bad, I refused because it’s morally wrong to put a nine-year-old in that kind of danger, because the drug lord clearly had no qualms about killing people, and because no amount of money is worth exposing my little bro to that kind of danger and potential trauma.

But at the same time, knowing what I know and feeling like this was SUPPOSED to be a realistic game, I really wanted the brothers to escape to Mexico and live out their lives together way from the US police and government. This resulted in me initially getting the ending that was the opposite of what I wanted. Oh and can we talk about Sean’s sudden undetected stroke that made him drive to a fucking normal border checkpoint after escaping the border patrol instead of the hole in the wall they got caught at in the first place??? Or anywhere else to make another hole???? I know Sean’s not naive at that point Square Enix.

Oh and the other really unbelievable thing is that the government would ever leave Daniel alone after so many people witnessed his powers. Like, by chapter 4, I felt like no way staying in the US was an option because they would have disappeared him to some government black site for experiments and shit, right? Nobody would have ever seen that kid again. Omg it would have been Beyond: Two Souls 2.

And all that is only the complaints I have outside of the game’s political content. I really had high hopes for it after I played season 1 like a year ago, but it totally went fighting cops and racists = bad, following the law and helping racists = good. You can practically map out the liberal attempt to make the game somehow politically neutral, not realizing that what is neutral to them actually has a political agenda. The message ends up being that you have to surrender to the system, no matter how unjust and awful it may be. I hate it.

Now keep in mind that I am an anarchist who wants to abolish the police. I’m also white. Those with different perspectives may still enjoy the game, or absolutely hate it. My desire to protect Daniel above all else may have been a large part of the reason why the game didn’t work for me, and someone with different priorities might have a different experience. But I can’t personally recommend it to anybody, especially people of color. Really for anybody vulnerable to abuse by the police and the state, there’s a lot of potentially triggering content and just a lot more potential political cliffs to fall off of than the other Life is Strange games. 

That being said, I’m playing it again to try and get the “Blood Brothers” ending. Fuck the USA.