#but hey at least y'all have your principles!

[vintageseawitch]

i see no lie here. at this point i have no faith in the Green Party. they're all vibes & no substance. they count on leftists & their need for "political purity" & their "principles" to divide them up.

the Green Party sounds great on paper... but they only ever appear like an election cicadas during the presidential election. they never run at local or state levels. they know they will never win. at this point since Republicans are more united than Democrats, it's quite clear that the Green Party isn't there to make sure Republicans lose... it's to make sure DEMOCRATS lose.

your "protest" vote isn't saving shit except maybe giving your ego a pat on the back. you could literally be helping the greater evil to win. do you think anyone will want to take you seriously should Project 2025 be implemented? oh, you sure showed those Democrats! please live in the real world & maybe do a little crash course on American civics to understand how our government works. y'all love theory. but I digress.

please don't stop talking about Project 2025 or Agenda 47. they're the same thing & the reason trump never talks policybis because Project 2025 IS his policy. check your registration status often & vote early if you can. Republicans & other non-Democrats who have decided to vote for Harris - welcome! we got this 💙

[is-the-thing-actually-jewish]

When I was a kid my grandma was my only close Jewish relative so I just assumed everything she did was universally Jewish (including the French language) and I'm still trying to figure out which are real- I know it could be a minhag and you wouldn't know, but have y'all ever heard that you have to eat something parve between eating meat and dairy? or was my grandma just trying to make me eat my vegetables before desert?

Rating: Who are we to argue with the wisdom of your mothers? 

We surveyed a range of family, friends, and acquaintances with different minhagim (customs related to religious observance, as distinct from halakha, the requirements of religious law). Some folks wait one, three, or six hours between meat and dairy. Some people say that it’s making the distinction between meals that matters, so if you sit at the Shabbes table all afternoon after a nice cholent lunch and you only clear away the dishes when it’s time for seuda shlisheet, you should not have a dairy meal, but if you have a pastrami with friends and then come home and want ice cream before bed, those are clearly separate things regardless of how many hours it has been. Some people say that you should just brush your teeth between meat and dairy so you don’t accidentally mix meat and milk in your mouth if you’ve got some meat residue between your teeth. However, none of the people we surveyed were familiar with the minhag you have described.

That said! It is still entirely possible that this minhag does exist somewhere— there is, as we said, a range of customs and traditions around this matter, and it’s hard to prove a negative. Furthermore, there is also a Jewish principle of following the practices of your elders when it comes to matters of minhag. It is for this reason that many Ashkenazi Jews today continue to avoid kitniyot on Passover, even though we no longer have the same concerns about mixing up our grains—we are simply following the traditions of our ancestors.

Additionally, there is a rule for eating something parve between dairy and meat, as in dairy first. Unless the dairy is a hard cheese, which takes longer to digest (at least according to the rabbis) you don’t have to wait at all, depending on your custom, but should eat something parve as a “palate cleanser.” See the second paragraph here.

If you assume that the foundational principle of all the various minhagim around eating dairy after meat are about maintaining the clear distinction between the two categories, eating something parve between them is a perfectly cogent position to hold.

And hey, it got you to eat your vegetables.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 3

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Part 2 🍂 Part 4

Pairing: Syverson x ofc

Series summary: Life with Sy, what more can you wish for? The most amazing husband and father to a whole litter of cute little kids... Sometimes you wonder "how did you get here?"

Series warning: Bring in the angst, boys!

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: My girl @keanureevesisbae is on FIRE, at 35k! I'm so proud! ❤️ And because she's on a roll, y'all have to suffer today. You're welcome!

Any and all mistakes are grass-fed and organic.

“No, Mattheijssen.” Could you spell it? Of course you could! They were the ones who couldn’t. Don’t say that out loud, you reminded yourself. “No, e-i-j-double s- e-n.” You said that the first time. And the second. “No, you’re right, it’s not an American name.” Fuck. Every. Single. Time. Finally, you hung up the phone after what seemed like an hour (it had been), completely ready to throw the phone through the window - which would have been easy, all these windows were single glazed – when you noticed a text from Sy.

Sy:     How does 7 sound? You:    Perfect!

Actually, 7 never sounded better. But you couldn’t tell him that. Alright, it is now… 5? Since when?! There is no way, text him back that 8 is better, you still have to shower. And then pick your outfit? Wash your hair? Is today wash day? When did you last wash your hair? Oh and makeup. And shave? Do you need to shave? Like, how necessary is shaving? Is… You really just stood there in the kitchen, panicking, wasting time – and then it hit you: you had a working kitchen sink, but not a working shower. You’d been showering at Jules’ place – or the gym, if you ever went – for weeks now…

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…” you muttered under your breath as you paced through the kitchen, squeezing your phone so hard you thought it was going to break.

“Jules! Oh my god!”

“Did your house burn down, Lara?”

“Wha- no?”

“Then stop screaming in my ear?”

“Sorry. Eh… Can you come pick me up, like, right now? Sy’s going to be here at 7 and I don’t have a working shower…” You heard Julie sigh.

“You are calling about that driver’s license on Monday, okay?” You promised her that you absolutely would – it was quite annoying to not have a valid driver’s license yet, you missed the independence. And it was silly to have a car in the driveway that you weren’t allowed to use, that, too. She was at your house in record time – either she’d been halfway there or she ignored the speed limit the entire time. Knowing Jules, it was the latter. On your way back to her house you texted Sy.

You: This is embarrassing… I don’t have a working shower, so you’re gonna have to pick me up at J’s place… Sy: Promise to meet me outside, I can do without the third degree.

You and Julie laughed about that last text. Unfortunately, while Sy would be escaping interrogation, you surely weren’t.

“So, dinner,  huh?” Jules asked with a wicked smile on her face.

“Jules, it’s not like that.” You weren’t planning on it, at least. No matter how hot he was, he wasn’t getting any just yet. Now those were some sturdy principles that you hoped with all your heart you could stick to. You always had. That being said you’d never met a man like Sy.

“Girl, it has to happen at some point?” Oh, God, the way Julie continuously brought up the fact that you’d never slept with anyone could be so extremely infuriating.

“Would you kindly fuck all the way off, Julietta?” You hated saying her full name almost as much as she hated hearing it. “I’m not jumping on the first dick I can.”

“It wouldn’t even be the first. Or second. Or…”

“Thanks.”

“Hey!” Why did he have to drive this massive truck? Why did you have to wear these massive heels? Oh no, he’s getting out, fuck. Sy was next to you in no time, offering you his arm for support.

“Don’t want you twisting another ankle, right?” He winked – or tried to.

“Do that again!” You laughed, more at the thought of finally having something to tease him with than the fact that he looked really silly when he tried to wink.

“That’s a lot of lip from someone who can’t get dressed without spraining an ankle,” he threw back at you. Both of you laughed nervously.

“I’d invite you home for a drink, but I have one room that isn’t a mess right now," you told Sy when you were done with dessert and your final cup of coffee, and you were running out of excuses to sit at that table any longer.

“I’d take you back to my place, but I currently sleep on a friend’s couch.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I was lookin’ into buyin’ a nice li’l fixer-upper a while back. Good amount of land, not too big a house. But I was too late.”

“Oh, shit, Sy, that really sucks,” you replied, not catching on to what he was trying to say.

“Yeah, it did. Place was perfect. But some European author slash college student…”

“Oh…” So you’d swiped his house. Lovely…

“Oh, Sugar, I don’t mind, I’ll find someplace else. Real question is: why’d you buy it? With the amount of work that needs doin’?”

“I don’t know… It passed the vibe check?” And the award for ‘dumbest answer ever’… Except… Sy didn’t look at you as if you’d gone crazy. Instead, the expression on his face kind of told you that he understood. Maybe?

“Right, feels like the kinda place you could really turn into a home, doesn’t it?” You nodded in reply to his question. He did understand.

“Except it’s barely even a house now…”

“Y’know what, Sugar? I’ll help ya out.” “Sy…” “Lara, I’m a small town contractor. You’re gonna be callin’ me sooner or later.” He moved his hand next to yours, not touching you. You remembered what Jules had told you. If he starts being touchy, you’re golden. But he wasn’t being touchy. This was the opposite of being touchy. This looked like being deliberately not touchy…

“But…”

“I’m not offering to do all of it in my spare time, but I can take on the project. And maybe offer up some evenings or Saturdays.”

And then you said the most immortally stupid words ever known to man: “Thanks Sy, you’re a great friend.”

“You’re just friends? Sy you absolute… God I thought even you couldn’t fuck this up, but here we are. Leave it to you to let the whole thing go to…” Julie was pissed, there wasn't much more to say about it.

“Jules, would you step out of the way?”

“No, Patrick,” she said to her boyfriend, “I will not. That stupid game can…”

“Jules, move.” Sy snapped at her. Patrick turned around in his seat, one eyebrow raised, wondering if he was going to have to start a fight with his best friend for the way he talked to his girl.

“Do you want to sleep on that couch tonight?” Julie couldn’t hide the irritation in her voice.

“This is my house!” Patrick said, “you can’t boss him around in my house!”

“If you keep going like this, Sy can’t sleep on the couch because you will be needing it." She shot back at him.

“Listen, Jules, if it’ll getcha to leave,” Sy said reluctantly, “she was the one who said I was a great friend, I decided not to push it. I’m okay with that.” Julie just rolled her eyes in reply to that last bit – the hell they were okay with that. Neither of them could be okay with that.

“Lara, I am done sticking my neck out for you, you know that? This was the last time. I can’t do this again.” There was no way she was going to give Sy an earful about this and not her best friend.

“Jules, please I’m…”

“Tell me you’re sorry and I will murder you, I swear,” Julie hissed. She took a deep breath before continuing: “What on God’s green earth have you got to say for yourself, huh?”

“I… It was too much, too fast. He got too close. He’s different. I like him.” You really tried to forma coherent sentence, but you ended up with word vomit. Oh well, might as well get it all out… “And he offered to help me with the house, it was so nice, but I don’t want to owe him. Not like that. And I thought it would be better if we were just friends. And he didn’t protest…”

“You have four braincells and they are taking a permanent vacation.” Jules was probably right about that.

“What do I do?”

“Nothing. He’ll be remodeling your house. You may be a total fool but you’re not made of stone.” She was probably also right about that. You had to admit to yourself – and let’s be real here, was anyone surprised? – that you hadn’t even thought about that. He’d be at your house.

“He’ll be at your house,” Jules said as if she could read your mind, “hammering, drilling. Nailing.”

“Jules, knock it off!” You laughed, but the truth was that you couldn’t shake the thought of a sweaty Sy handling power tools. Fuck.

[warningsine]

Idk if you're Jewish or not but I appreciate you reblogging posts like the one you did earlier calling out double standards. I'm terrified to do so at this point. But it's like... people really want this to be black and white in a way that it isn't (and in a way they don't demand those other countries also be either, mind you). Both Israelis and Palestinians come from that land. There's no way to destroy one without slaughtering the people of the other. Both groups deserve the right to self determination and it's not fair that the British sold that land without Palestinian consent, but that doesn't mean that the Israeli claim to that land is illegitimate. The only way this conflict can ever be solved (which realistically won't happen any time soon given that BOTH Hamas and Israel's current government don't want it to) is to have both a Palestinian state AND Israel. Which is also a flavor of zionism, but people would rather believe that the extremist, racist flavor of it Netanyahu's using is the ONLY flavor of it. But you can't say that or else you're told you're the extremist, racist version, because that's all people think that it is. And it's exhausting. I've lost so many friends because they lack critical thinking skills that I thought were basic.

I agree with what you're saying, anon, but you telling me you're afraid to speak your mind on a site that claims to be oh-so-progressive only goes to show how rife antisemitism is.

When the October 7 attack happened, I naively thought left-leaning people would be, like, "Hey, Hamas is bad. Palestinians deserve better than that!" but nope.

I'd been expecting antisemitic sentiments from far right wingers, who also spread islamophobia. But to see leftists get radicalized and start buying into antisemitic conspiracy theories? Had not been expecting that. (But maybe I should have.)

When I saw someone raise the flag of Hamas--not the Palestinian one, the green one with Shahada on it--during a pro-Palestinian protest, when I heard "Globalize the Intifada!" and saw "Resistance [meaning the 10/7 atrocities] is justified!" signs, I was appalled.

Like, what are y'all doing here? I thought we were protesting because we wanted a ceasefire; because we wanted Netanyahu to stop killing Palestinian civilians, not to be antisemitic and support a terrorist organization. What's next? Giving it to Al Qaeda? The Taliban? People have already given it to the Houthis.

And to see queer people on here fandomize and stan Hamas... Do they not know what Hamas does to LGBT+ individuals? That they executed a leading commander because there were allegations that he was gay?

I know we like to say these are terminally online people, but it's not like they don't exist offline. Fortunately, you can at least unfollow/block those. You can turn off anon; if they want to send hateful messages, they should stick their usernames to them.

But what happens offline?

I had a fight with a leftist ~friend myself (well, he has never lived by any leftist principle, but hey, ideology sure is more important than helping the people around you /s) when he started getting radicalized and denying all the rapes that took place on October 7, because "the resistance!" Local leftist guy who calls Malala a "neolib" holds misogynistic views. What he has ever done to help women, you might ask? Nothing. He's busy whining about how they friendzone him.

And, all right, you can avoid this guy. (By the way, I'm so sorry that you lost people that you used to call friends; it cuts.)

But you can't afford to do this with everyone that holds bigoted beliefs. What do you do with those? How do you deradicalize them? When they double down on their beliefs that cause harm to the Jewish diaspora and refuse to get educated, ignorance becomes malice.

[mxrpchronicle]

i recognize that i am Part Of The Problem but i Cannot go into an RP without at least some level of planning. but i also don't have any ideas ever. so i ask "anything you're looking for?" because genuinely even a tiny crumb of a vibe or something helps immensely but without even that much i cannot do anything. i think it's the autism

which is entirely okay! i feel like i mention the poll all the time, most people in the tag seem to be ooc-on-occasion folks. every time i have this particular conversation it's something like, and this is paraphrased heavily,

((hey what are you looking for

((nm hbu

((nothing specific

and this is where it ends. we've gotten nowhere and rped nothing. that's my complaint about ooc conversations again. the yes and? principle fixes all of our problems. ooc conversation in and of itself is fine. i just don't have the back to carry it. ooc conversation isn't the problem. it's that people want to start it, say sorry when i can't be fucked to do the talking for them, and then connect to me in other tabs without disconnecting from the one they're ghosting me in.

fortunately, most people just use the filters instead of wasting my time this way.

now i'm going to use your ask to shoehorn in a personal complaint from this blog. if i could add the read more line, this is where i would do it because this complaint isn't about you specifically.

a lot of people like to get holier than thou in my inbox on the subject of neurodivergence and ooc conversation specifically. it's goddamn obnoxious. i understand some people need ooc conversation to hold the rp. it's always autism that people throw at me too. i'm autistic myself so i don't end up publishing them because wow! some of y'all need to remember that your neurodivergence is not the standard. i really don't feel the need to justify that sentiment any further, either, but i'm not publishing anyone's ableist filth about how awful i am for not accommodating their neurodivergence by continuing to accommodate my own and disrespecting them as an autistic person by using the website the way i prefer to. i'm on my blog, making posts about my preferences and everyone's invited to make their own blogs and engage with me if you really think i'm that bad.

[symeona]

Hey, just FYI, comparing Mormons to Nazis is pretty antisemitic and inappropriate. I would err on the side of caution when drawing Nazi comparisons as a goy, especially with groups you’re not well-informed about. It’s trivializing and tasteless

Uh, do not put words in my mouth please

I never said Nazis,

Nazis weren't the only walking trash who lost WW2. That's not even an appropriate simplification, when half of Europe should feel responsible. Fascists lost the war and fascists governed my country during the dictatorship. I'm very familiar with their principles.

So when I hear a group of far-right conservatives hate non-white, non-christian, queer, disabled people, etc I will very much call it fascistic. Cause I like to assign the proper responsibility to discriminatory rhetoric, and also that's the word I have for them?

Obviously I can't decide if all Mormons are or aren't fascists. And I'm not the authority who's gonna put that in a dictionary. But I am allowed to think they are. If that's so tasteless then let me be wrong? At least I'll be safe. Cause in my country people like them would have the power to off my entire family not that long ago.

And with that I'm done talking about all of it. Y'all can draw your own conclusions about all this. I was just posting silly pro-trans Star Wars doodles for fuck's sake why are we even here????

[general-kenobi357]

Someday Soon-Chapter 4

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!OC

Summary: Secrets start to create more tension within the Pogues, even more so when Kooks start to get involved.

Word Count: 3.1k

🔅🔆🔅

There's a moment in every kid's life when you feel like anything's possible. When you feel like you've got the total mojo. You could, I don't know, free-climb El Capitan, land on Mars, or, uh... get elected president. The whole world's there for the taking if you've got the sack to go for it.

And then, when you least expect it, some Kook shows up and tells you there's no eternal mystery. And then all that talk about free-climbing and Mars and the president... bullshit.

Magic gets cancer and dies.

“It's not there. Look, just... just pull the drone up.” John B instructed Pope. We had searched all over the ocean floor and found nothing but the figure head that used to stand at the bow of the ship.

“Shit.” I muttered, the storm was picking up as the thunder grew louder and the lightning closer to where we were, I entered the cabin where JJ was still trying to hold the boat steady. We hadn’t spoken more than five words to each other since him and Pope had picked me up the day before, I figured it was time. “You need any help?”

“Nah, but if you have 400 mil lying around, I’d be happy to take it off your hands.” He joked, bringing a smile to my face before a comfortable silence fell over us and we continued to listen to the rest of the Pogues outside.

“Look, we can do another pass. Recharge the battery.” Pope suggested. “We can... we can go back down.”

“We've done it three times. There's nothing there.” JJ spoke up competing with the loud wind.

“Shut up! The gold could be buried. We don't know.” Kie reasoned, still hopeful.

“If it was there, it would've been found on the metal detector, okay? Somebody beat us to it.” John B told her.

“Or it was never there.” I mumbled. The more we searched the more the stories started to sound impossible.

With the thunder rumbling we all pitched in to bring in the drone before JJ drove us back to the dock.

🔅🔆🔅

After we got back onto dry land the group all parted ways, promising to see each other later on that evening.

Once I got back to my house I changed into some dry clothes before making my way into the main room to see my mom sitting on the couch, I could hear Emmy in her room playing.

“Hey Hon.” My mom spoke up, setting down the book she was reading. “Where have you been all morning?”

“Oh we took Heyward’s boat out, trying to catch some fish. JJ’s cousin told him you can get spearfish out in the open water.”

“Did you catch anything?”

“No the storm picked up, we had to head back in.”

“Well that’s too bad. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, maybe next time.” And even though my mom didn’t know what we had really been looking for, her words gave me a little hope, maybe we could still find something.

“Hey, are you and your friends going out later?” She asked after a few minutes.

“Um, I don’t know. Kie was talking about taking us to an outdoor movie over on Figure Eight.”

“Oh you used to love those as a kid, do you think they would be okay if Emmy tagged along?”

“I can ask. Kie was going to pick us all up in a little bit.”

“Thank you. I just don’t want her to miss out on everything you got to do when we still lived over there.”

“I know.” I replied with a smile. Ever since we had moved to the cut and Emmy was born, she had been trying to give us everything she possibly could.

🔅🔆🔅

A few hours later I was in my room when I heard a horn outside. Quickly I got up grabbing the bag I had packed before going to find Emmy. She had moved to the porch as the day progressed and the house got hotter.

“Em, you ready to go?” I asked her.

“Yep!” She said standing up. “Wait I have to go say bye to Mommy.”

I watched her run back into the house, before I followed behind her.

“Have fun you two.” Mom told us as she pulled Emmy into a hug. “Don’t forget bug spray, and not too many candies alright?”

“Okay Mommy.” Emmy said nodding her head.

“Here.” Mom said standing up and passing me a couple of bills. “It should be enough for tickets and a treat for each of you.”

“Thank you.” I told her, folding the bills to fit in my pocket. I knew it wasn’t enough for all that, but it would be enough for tickets and I had some tip money from yesterday to buy Emmy a treat.

“Have fun you two!” She called as we went to meet Kie who was waiting by the road.

“Hey.” I greeted as we approached her car. “Is it alright if Emmy tags along.”

“Yeah of course.” Kie said smiling, I had a sneaking suspicion that my friends might have preferred her to me most days.

“Okay Em, get in the back.” I instructed opening the door for her. “Are we picking up the boys?” I asked.

“Yeah they're our next stop.” Kie told me from the front.

“You gotta sit in the middle seat.” I told Emmy, before buckling her seat belt.

“I don’t want to sit with the boys.” Emmy whined. “They smell bad.”

“They don’t smell bad.” I tried to defend the boys who weren't there to defend themselves, as I got into the front.

“Well…” Kie trailed off defending Emmy’s point. We all laughed as she pulled out of our driveway and down the road to JJ’s house.

As we pulled up, the two boys were waiting by the curb for us, Pope looked scared while JJ looked as if he were preparing for something. They greeted us all as they climbed into the backseat and before long we were en route to Figure Eight.

“Are you guys sure you want to go to this thing?” Pope asked about halfway into the drive.

“What?” I asked turning to look at him. “You love these movies.”

“Well maybe we’re just not feeling it today.” JJ defended Pope’s statement.

“What is up with you two?” I asked, I couldn’t help but wonder if it had to do with whatever had happened yesterday.

“Yeah, what is up with you two?” Em asked, parroting what I had just said. It was one of her current favorite things to do, after she heard me taunting John B the same way a couple months ago.

Her comment was enough to break the tension that had been building in the car, as it brought a smile to all our faces.

“Don’t worry Princess, we’re just bein’ weirdos.” JJ told Emmy, using the nickname he had started using a while ago when she had joined us all for a boat ride and declared herself the Princess of the water.

🔅🔆🔅

“I'm so glad that they're still doing this.” Kie told us as we gathered all the stuff we had brought from her trunk. “Keep calm. Carry on. Back to OBX life. You know? Aren't you glad I made you come?”

“Ecstatic.” Pope replied in a monotone voice.

“My couch was pretty comfy, I'll be honest.” JJ added.

“Okay, Em? I’m gonna go with Kie to get your treat okay? What do you want?” I asked, setting down my bag.

“Um…” She thought, putting a hand on the side of her head. “Popcorn!”

“Okay.” I replied with a smile, moving to where Kie was waiting. “JJ can help you put out your blanket okay?” I told her before I turned to look at JJ, he gave me a thumbs up as I began to follow Kie to the concession.

“Hey, uh... can I get two Pepsis, please? Oh and a popcorn?” Kie asked the guy behind the counter.

“Oh I can buy Emmy’s food.” I told her, feeling a little guilty.

“No, don’t worry about it, did you want anything?” She asked, pushing away my hand which held a few bills.

“No, I’m good thanks.” I replied, as we waited for our order.

“Hey, Kie.” I heard Rafe Cameron call out from behind us.

“Hey.” Kie responded uncomfortably.

“What's up? How are you?” He asked, it seemed like he only noticed her. But it didn’t surprise me, I was generally looked at as the help.

“I'm fine.”

“Good, good. Um… Tell your boy that we know what he did.”

“Sorry, what boy are you talking about?” I finally asked.

“Uh, he'll know.” He told us. “Bye.”

“Douche.” Kie muttered as Rafe walked away. “What was that about?”

“I have no idea.” I told her truthfully as we made our way back over to the boys and Emmy. “Nobody will tell me anything.”

“Just saw Rafe, and he said, and I quote, <Tell your boy that we know what he did.> What is that?” Kie asked as I sat down between Emmy and JJ, handing her the bag of popcorn.

“Um… Where is he?” JJ asked nervously looking around.

“Right there.” I told him pointing behind us as we all turned.

“Great, the whole death squad.” Pope muttered.

“Don't stare, bro.” JJ warned turning around. “If they corner me, I'm coming out swinging, okay? Slice and dicin'. I'm on edge right now.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Pope confirmed, with every word they exchanged I was more confused.

“If that doesn't work, I got this right here.” JJ reassured Pope pointing to his bag, I was no longer confused, now I was just pissed of knowing exactly what he was referring to. How could he be that dumb.

“Yeah, yeah. So, we just gotta stay in the group. They can't get us in the group. Like a school of fish. Stay in the school. Can't leave the school.” Pope started rambling.

“I'm sorry, stay in school? Please tell me that you did not bring a gun here.” Kie asked, looking at the pair.

“JJ, there are kids. Emmy is here.” I reminded him.

“Sweetheart, I didn't bring the gun. Everything's fine, okay?” He told me with an unconvincing smile.

“Wow, thank you. That's really convincing. I love that, JJ.” I said, knowing he was lying.

“Founding principle, you guys. No secrets amongst Pogues.” Kie reminded them, which made me laugh bitterly. I was pretty sure everything Pope and JJ had said to me since yesterday had been lies. “What is Rafe talking about?”

“Kie, it might go down tonight.” Pope told her.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“<Might go down tonight.> What did y'all do?” Kie demanded.

“Deny, deny, deny.” I heard JJ mutter to Pope. Shaking my head at Kie before I turned to look at Emmy, who sat blissfully unaware as she enjoyed her popcorn.

🔅🔆🔅

About halfway into the movie I heard the boys whispering to each other. Before they both stood up.

“Hey, where are y'all going?” Kie asked as they began to walk away.

“We gotta wring it out.” JJ responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You gonna hold it for each other?” She criticized them as they left.

The pair had been gone for a few minutes when out of the corner of my eye I saw three Kooks head in the same direction JJ and Pope had gone. Glancing at Emmy to make sure she stayed put I shuffled closer to Kie.

“I think somethings wrong.” I whispered in her ear. “Three Kooks just headed off to where JJ and Pope went.”

“They’ll be fine, they have the gun, Rafe wouldn’t try anything here.”

“The gun is still in JJ’s bag.” I informed Kie, holding up his backpack.

“Shit.” She muttered, taking the bag from my grasp. “You stay with Emmy I’ll go make sure they get this.”

I moved back beside Emmy as I watched Kie walk away.

“Where is everyone going?” Emmy asked, curiously.

“Nowhere don’t worry, just watch the movie.” I told her, unable to take my own advice.

A few more minutes past as I sat thinking the worst had happened to my friends, until suddenly the bottom of the screen lit up on fire. The crowd began to scatter as more of the screen was engulfed in flames.

“Fuck.” I muttered under my breath, trying to decide what to do. “Okay come here.” I told Emmy picking her up, I knew I couldn’t leave her here alone but I wasn’t sure what I was about to walk into. “Close your eyes okay? Don’t open them until I say so.” I told her as I walked over to where I had seen all my friends go.

As I walked around behind the movie screen which had now been reduced to ashes, I could see Rafe and his goons running off and in front of me Pope, Kie and JJ were all laying on the grass. But I could see them all moving.

“Oh, thank you.” I mumbled, not entirely sure who I was thanking. Pope and Kie were sitting beside each other so I made my way over to JJ with Emmy still in my arms. With my free hand I helped him before pulling him into a hug.

“You’re squishing me!” Emmy called out from between us.

“Sorry Em.” I apologized, letting go of JJ and setting her down. “It’s okay, you can open your eyes.” I told her noticing that her eyes were still squeezed shut.

“Are you okay JJ?” Emmy asked, her voice quiet.

“Of course I am Princess.” He reassured her, scoping her up. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Izzie was swearing and I was worried when you and Pope left.” Emmy explained, ratting me out in the process.

“Iz, swearing in front of the Princess?” JJ asked, feigning a look of shock before he went back to talking to Emmy. “Come on let’s go get your stuff.”

I let out a sigh of relief before I followed the group back to where all of our stuff had been left. As I packed up my bag I heard JJ explaining to Emmy that it was all just a game that they were playing and that she didn’t have to worry about any of it. All I could do was hope she wouldn’t tell my Mom.

🔅🔆🔅

After dropping off the boys, Kie drove me and Emmy home. The drive was silent partially due to the fact that Emmy was passed out in the back seat and partially due to the fact that neither of us wanted to talk about what had just happened.

Once we had arrived I grabbed my bag before getting Emmy from the back seat. Kie unrolled the window to wave goodbye to me.

“Thank you.” I said to Kie with a smile. “For everything.”

“Of course, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She replied, waving as I made my way to the front door.

It wasn’t until I had closed the door behind me that I heard the tires of Kie’s car drive off. My Mom was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea reading by a candle when we got inside. I quickly went and put Emmy into her bed before I joined her.

“You two are home earlier than I thought, wasn’t it a double feature?” She asked me.

“Yeah, um some kids messed with the screen and they couldn’t play the second movie.” I explained, pulling her into a tight hug.

“You okay?” She asked concern laced through her words.

“Yeah I just missed you.” I said, pulling away.

“Okay.” She said not sounding entirely convinced.

“Goodnight.” I said before I walked out of the kitchen and into my room.

“Goodnight!” She called as I closed my door.

🔅🔆🔅

The next day the Pogues-minus John B, who no one had heard from-were gathered at Heyward’s discussing the events of last night.

“Don't let it get in your head. Three of them and two of us.” JJ reassured Pope, who was still on edge. “That's typical Kook shit right there.”

“Hey, Pope, someone here to see you.” Heyward interrupted, Deputy Shoupe trailing behind him.

“Evening, Officer.” Pope said, suddenly seeming even more on edge than before.

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.” Shoupe told him blatantly. “Hands where I can see 'em.” He instructed beginning to cuff Pope. “Young lady, out of my way.” He said pushing past Kie as we all followed him outside.

“Whoa. Shoupe, what'd he do?” Heyward said, confused.

“Look at the warrant.”

“You're arresting him? You're just arresting my boy?”

“Be careful!” Kie shouted as Shoupe continued to read Pope his rights.

All of our voices seemed to mix together as I tried to figure out what was going on.

“It wasn't him!” JJ yelled over all of us, everyone else fell silent. “It was me. He tried to talk me out of it, but I was mad because he'd just been beaten up. I was so sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit. I can't let you take the blame for somethin' I did. You've got too much to lose.”

“JJ, what are you doing?” Pope asked and all of the sudden I realized what was going on and what they had been keeping from me.

“I'm tellin' the truth.” JJ explained, he was staring at me as if he wanted to say something more. “For once in my goddamn life, I'm gonna tell the truth. I took his old man's boat, too.”

“JJ, come on.” Pope tried to stop him.

“Just shut up, Pope!” JJ shouted. “Just shut up. He's a good kid. You know where I'm from.”

“Yeah.” Shoupe agreed.

“This was all me.”

“That's the whole truth?”

“Whole truth, swear to God.”

“I know what you think, damn it, I'm asking Pope.”

“Yeah, that about covers it.” Pope stated, as JJ nodded at him.

Shoupe sighed before uncuffing Pope and putting JJ into his car. I could hear Pope cursing from behind me as Kie and Heyward tried to calm him down. But all I could do was watch as the cop car drove off leaving me standing in the street, tears streaming down my face. Realizing I hadn’t even said goodbye.

🔅🔆🔅

[onlychild-syndrome]

I really wanted to show the name but, I decided to be the bigger person.

#1

Attention whore really? Y'all, whenever you think you are the dumbest person in the world remember that some people think that harry styles is an attention whore.

#2

Miss. Ma'am there are at least 5 million teenage girls who simp for lhh (my sis included). Whose opinion should i trust? I'm a lesbian but i hv eyes!

I get it, its your taste but you have no right to insult someone. There is a simple principle Don't like? Don't comment! Especially commenting on appearances is body shaming. This answer came under why do you hate Harry Styles and hating someone because of their appearance is not appealing to you is just not right!

#3

Ok, I'm assuming you mean his speed of talking? Because nothin else sticks out... excuse me mister I talk pretty damn slow in real life and people are like do you have problems speaking English? And I'm like shut the fuck up that's just how I talk! So same applies for him!

#4

Umm, I don't even know what u mean in this one.. he is confident but not like "Hey, look at me! I'm the reason y'all are alive" "I'm the big deal, hunny" "Hey, I sing the bestestest in the world"! He is one of the most modest celebrities I have ever EVER seen.

#5

Umm, wut? In the universe where Harry Styles doesn't hv talent I don't exist. He is extremely talented and lmao this is your opinion ig so I'm not gonna opinion shame or whatever. Also One Direction means seeking the same direction AKA going the same route.

#6

I'm not even gonna comment on this one. One suggestion though go see a few of his interviews and decide for yourself if he has the potential of being a rapist serial-killer. Remember there is a wrong answer. (Hint - He cant hurt a fly)

#7

Lmao you are opinion shaming us which is why I wanted to reply to this. I don't have a Quora account so, Tumblr is the next big thing.

|

Also at the end of the day you do you and I'll do me! I can't go inside someone's brain and reprogram them. You are most likely someone who has heard one song of Harry Styles/One direction which was not to your taste and decided that you were gonna be "quirky" and "different" and hate them.

Well bro, I'm not gonna opinion shame you but some of these points (Eg - #2, #7 etc) are just not civil. Also don't put questions like this up (Reason - They are controversial and cause fights). I'm not trying cause an argument here but honestly I was pissed after this "related answer" came up at something else I was reading about. This post is just a heat of the moment thing.

TPWK (I tried to be kind about this post)

Have a beautiful day xx

[oomox]

americans are so fucking willfully ignorant its actually astonishing

“the book seems to originate from Canada, where there was no genocide to comparable extend than down South”

just THINK with your BRAIN for once im begging you

we all learn about your shit!!! your evils are everywhere, on the news, on Tumblr, on instagram, and we have this shit too but bc its “””not as bad””” (in quotations bc it definitely is) it gets no attention??? fuck y'all, man, so much of my energy on Tumblr is devoted to learning about American issues, American racism, American politics, and the issues that are prevalent IN MY OWN COUNTRY are forgotten about, brushed under the rug, because hey, at least we’re not as bad as America!!! if you can expect non Americans to pay attention to your stupid fucking political posts every hour of every god damn day you should shut up and read about Canadian politics, British politics, European politics, asian politics......... YOU ARE NOT THE MAIN CHARACTER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD

ANYWAY stop ignoring Canadian issues just bc they’re “not as bad” as the US 2020. they absolutely are as bad as the US and no arbitrarily drawn border changes the fact that all of white North America was built on the same principles of colonialism, slavery, violence, genocide, and oppression.

[jising-jisang-jisung]

Soulmate! Haechan pt. 1

Word count: 1.2k

Genre: idk man this might be kinda angsty but idk

A/n: I had a hard time writing this and idrk why but I am going to try to break it up into parts because I feel like I’m taking forever :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You hadn’t always possessed a deep hatred for the soulmate system. At first, the idea sounded cute. Throughout your puberty years your eyes would change to be your soulmates favorite color, their first words to you would appear on your body, you could communicate through thought, and even more. But you see, your eyes have always been the same washed out blue-grey. And you thought that you just didn’t have a soulmate. But when you were 15 two words appeared on your wrist that ruined the rest of your life. “Shit sorry” shit sorry?! Those would be your soulmates first words to you?! And you have to be permanently marked with them on a visible part of your body?!

So first, it seemed like you didn’t have a soulmate because of your dumb eyes, then you get a stupid tattoo, and you still can’t even contact them! You’re the only 17 year old you know who still cant contact their soulmate in their head. But that’s just your everyday life sis. And aside from all of that, you are a very unlucky person. It’s so bad people tell you that you have a 50/50/90 principle, meaning that if you have a 50/50 chance you’ll get it wrong 90% of the time oof. My family calls that our way of life

Anyway, you never knew what it would finally be like if you met your soulmate. If they’re eyes would be so beautiful or if it would be complete and utter love at first sight. How were you supposed to know? You didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.

One day, just like normal, you were getting your lunch when some dumb boy from your school starts tossing around his food like it’s a football. You were annoyed to say the least, but also worried that you would get hit. You always get hit. As you turn around to head in the other direction, avoiding the flying milk cartons, a frickin hotdog hits you in the back of the head. It didn’t really knock you over per se but it frightened you so much that you fell down, subsequently dropping your lunch as well.

“Shit sorry.” the boy said nonchalantly offering you a hand up. Immediately recognizing that phrase, you refuse his hand. As you get up, you make eye contact for like .02 secs, but it was long enough to see his deep purple eyes if you dont like purple just pick another color or just suffer.

You didn’t know how to react, so you just ran. You ran right out of the school and most of the way to your house. You only stopped at a nearby park and sat on the swings. Was that? It couldn’t be. I probably don’t even have a real soulmate. He probably didn’t notice anything special. I don’t even know this boy. You were so immersed in your thoughts that you didn’t notice footsteps behind you. “Y/n?” Jisung asked.

“Jisungie! What are you doing here? Wait! You should be in school! ᕕ(˵•̀෴•́˵)ᕗ” “I could say the same to you. Anyways, I saw that hotdog hit you. It was pretty funny, actually. But,, why did you run away like that?” Jisung was your best friend, your platonic soulmate one might say. He already knew everything about your issues. “You know how my soulmate’s first words to me are ‘shit sorry?’ Well that’s what the boy who threw the freaking hotdog at me said when I fell…” you trailed off. Your friend’s eyes are about to pop out of his head. “…and his eyes,” you continued, “were very-” “don’t tell me they were that dumb purpley color you like!” “I can’t. They were.” Now Jisung looks like he might actually die. “Why in the world did you fucking run out of there then? Go get yo mans!” “One, watch your mouth, child, and two, I don’t know I’m kinda scared. What if I’m wrong? If hes not actually my soulmate? What if I make a fool of myself? Or more a fool of myself than I already have” you look down to your hands folded in your lap.

Jisung didn’t push you any more. He understood how you felt since he was under similar circumstances. His soulmate rejected him, so he cant communicate either. Though he would never admit it, he secretly hoped that you would be rejected too and you both could be together. Jisung knew it was a bad thought, but he couldn’t help himself. Plus, you were always happy with him, would it really be so bad?

~

That night you tried your very best to speak. You thought very very hard just trying to talk to your soulmate. All you were left with was silence. So you decided to text ya boi Jisung.

Me: Hey bro wanna get ice cream?

Beanpole 💕: Y/n, you’re fucking lactose intolerant!!

Me: 1)language and 2)ur point? hi this is me

Beanpole 💕: Meet in 15?

You enter the ice cream shop to see Jisung already testing every, single, flavor, and the worker looks so stressed out with him. You were much easier and just ordered strawberry. After about 10 more minutes, Jisung finally settled on mint chip. You pitied the poor boy that had to serve Jisung.

With that thought on your mind, you paid no attention to the boy who walked into the store. That is until the boy at the counter, Mark, greeted the customer. “Haechan! Wassup bro? What do you want?” Did he say-? Sure enough you turn your head and are met with the beautiful faced boy who hit you with a hotdog earlier in the day. You tried as hard as you could to avoid his gaze.

Suddenly, you heard something in the back of your head. Hmm I like strawberry. But do I wanna venture out and choose another flavor? You thought to yourself that obviously strawberry is the best choice because duh. That’s when the boy turned around with a confused expression. ◐ˍ◑ Being a dumb bitch, you make eye contact with him. Then, it hit you: you just communicated with him. That means he must really be your soulmate. Was that you?

Yeah.

How the fuck- how are we doing this?

Idk man are we maybe soulmates?

But- he begins to speak out loud, “I already have mine…”

Mark and Jisung are completely lost in this situation and tbh they kinda wonder while y'all were just staring at each other like that. You feel your eyes begin to water. ⊙︿⊙ And what for? You dont even really know Haechan. You didn’t even think he was your soulmate. So why are you about to flippin lose it? (个_个) You rush out of the building as fast as you can, your ice cream long forgotten. Jisung soon follows, bringing you the rest of your dessert because he doesn’t want you to feel bad. Mark and Haechan don’t speak about what just happened as Haechan leaves the ice cream shop slouched without another word. If I already have my soulmate, wtf was that?

Part 2 tumblr is acting weird so I cant put in the link but part 2 is UP :D

[orokinarchives]

Nora Night Dialogue

(Nightwave hype image)

Nightwave focuses on one particular story at a time, termed a "Series", beginning with The Wolf of Saturn Six as Series 1. While a Series is running, Nora presents a list of Acts, or challenges, for the Tenno to complete. Completing Acts will reward Nightwave Standing. Nora will give rewards upon reaching certain tiers of Standing (every 10.000 Standing), including a special currency which can be used to purchase rotating offerings. The Standing and currency are particular to each Series and expire when the Series ends.

Radio Scanner

Nora Night will occasionally broadcast messages over the Radio Scanner in the Tenno's Orbiter.

(generic)

"Hey there, Dreamers. You hearin' me? I know you are. No need to say anythin'. A hand in yours, a voice for the speechless, a bedtime story for the sleepless. The name's Nora Night, and I got somethin' to say, sweet things. Nightwave is coming."

"A voice in the night, a half-remembered dream, rising to the surface of your consciousness, from backbrain to forebrain, a sound to a vision, pullin' up and… knockity-knock. Hello, Dreamers. Let's get to know one another."

"Hey, Dreamers. We are up and ready to party."

"To all of you driftin' out there in the black, mark the frequency. The time has come to act together. To open our eyes and gaze with utmost clarity past the present and into a future we create. Shoulder-to-shoulder. Mark the frequency."

"An echo, from long ago: 'For ten years I have been polishing this sword. Its frosty edge has never been put to the test. Now, I am holding it and showing it to you, sir: Is there anyone suffering from injustice?' Keep livin', Dreamers."

"In a world like this, it can be hard to have hope, when the man owns the system and the system serves to save the man, from us. But I'm here, Dreamers. To help you pierce that false fog. We'll chase it away with acts of beauty and – succeed or fail – face the foe, eyes open. As someone once said: 'If nothing saves us from death, may love at least save us from life.'"

"Acts of defiance, acts of generosity, acts of sacrifice… this is how we turn this system 'round. I'll take you there, Dreamers. I'll bring you back."

"Hey there, Dreamers. The Devil is home and the shades are up. That's right… it's just you and me, passin' each other slow and with a nod sayin' all that needs sayin'. I'm Nora Night, sayin'… you live with wolves, you better act like one."

"It can be tough as a kid. All sorts of people have it over you. People will kill you inside, kill you and forget your name. You grow up. They grow old. You remember. They don't. They just keep doing what they've always done, only to someone else. Then, one day, they call you friend. And you wait. And you wait. You wait 'til they can't trust you any more than they do. And then you ask them if they enjoyed their dinner. And, looking into their panicked eyes as they gasp their last, you tell them your name. And you nod. 'Yeah', your eyes say to theirs. 'That was me'. And then you leave. And the System is a better place. Be smart, Dreamers."

(events)

"Nora has it on good authority that Rail pirates are hungry after a cold weekend, sweet thing. Check your mags and keep the gas tanks full."

"Well, bad news, foodies: the Corpus are scrapping plans to bioengineer food from hazardous waste. Diners reported everything tasted like vermink… then exploded. Back to the lab, you crazy kids."

"Ah, Nef Anyo ain't best pleased by the actions of some of our friends. [deep sigh] Keep your heads down, Solaris United, and steer clear of Officer Friendly."

"Now, I hear remarked that Nef's obelisk is lit up for another of the big man's showcases, parties, soirées, whatever. On the invite list is anybody who is anybody, and nobody who is nobody. Even Nora Night didn't get an invite. Shame on you, Nef Anyo, for I am delightful."

"Grineer Galleons kickin' up dust all the way from Venus to Pluto. Watch your backs, people."

"A little bird tells me that nasty ol' Nef Anyo's got somethin' up his sleeve for the good people of Fortuna. But I have it on good authority help is on the way. Keep the faith, people. Sunshine is just around the corner."

"Well, it's early where Nora is, and, as she wipes the sleep from her eyes, she wonders… does Unum ever leave that Tower? Can she leave that Tower? Who is she? What is she? Someone in Cetus must have answers. Come on, sweet things. Give it up."

"On this cold and lonely eve, spare a thought for tractor jockeys, Rail agents, and lone travellers making their way. Trying to bring a little joy to people's lives, one shipment at a time."

"Nora has it on good authority that the enterprising Corpus are clearing out ice out of newly-discovered tunnels. For what purpose, she wonders?"

"Well, it's a lazy night between the stars for you and me, while out there, the System is still on fire. Grineer on Corpus, Corpus on Infested – and in between, the little people like you and me, well, we're just tryin' not to get stepped on. Here's to us, Dreamers."

"Nora here. The Red King is at the dance. But listen… as you drift between the stars, Nora wants you to know you ain't alone. Mm-mm. We're all of us a kinda family out here, ain't we? All of us. The multitudes. Driftin' and listenin'. But you need to remember: It never troubles the wolf how many the sheep may be. It never troubles the wolf."

"Somethin's out there, Dreamers. Nora can feel it. Pullin' at her waters like the moon pulls the tides. Somethin' big, an' somethin' old. It knows us. What will it say, I wonder, the day it steps up to our door and knocks?"

"We're out of the night and into the dawn. Still hangin' on in a System on fire, thanks to the good work of people like the Tenno. That's a thank-you, from Nora to you. Wherever you are."

(personal)

"Do you feel the next world press close, on these late nights, Dreamers? Nora does. She feels the presence of those she lost, the great and the good. Gods and ghosts. We are watched – bet on it – by those who dwell in the direction we cannot point to."

"Flattery, flattery charges my battery. Some people ask where they can send me gifts. Some want to take me out to dinner. One lonesome ol' Rail agent even asked Nora to marry him. Nora ain't the marryin' kind, but thank you. Was in love once. With a man. Face of an angel, morals of a chainsaw. We all have a type, don't we? Against which we must be forever on guard. But damn, he looked good in a suit."

"Dreamers, it's on these long and quiet nights I ask myself: How could I do more, and do it better? And then, something I read a long time ago whispers in my ear: 'All human activities are equivalent and all are on principle doomed to failure. Thus it amounts to the same thing whether one gets drunk alone or is a leader of nations.' And, Dreamers, I pour myself a drink."

"People ask me if it gets lonely out here. I say, lonely? Naw. I got all the company I need. I got you, sweet things. Ain't nothin' for Nora in the real world, 'cept trouble. Trouble, and a few yahoos she could box for a century without a tea break."

Opening Nightwave

"Now, just in case some of you ain't doin' all this outta the kindness of your hearts…."

"Nora's got the goods for one lucky Dreamer. Who's it gonna be?"

"Now, y'might be wonderin' if I'm holdin' back on y'all. Hmm, Dreamers…."

"Nora is all about incentivisin'."

"Who have we got on the line? Oh yeah, I don't have a line."

"Always a pleasure."

"What's on your mind, Dreamers?"

"It's that time again, Dreamers."

"Welcome."

"Shall we?"

"Hey."

(upon viewing Episode 1 of a series) "Greed. Brutality. Oppression. True stories, all, and the System is full of them. Dreamers? You listening? The System needs you performing your good deeds for the day. Nora needs it. Needs you to act. To change things. Hear the news, Dreamers. Hear it, or be it. Your call. Because in Nora's System, no good act goes unrewarded. This is Nora Night. You're listening to Nightwave."

(when the Tenno reaches Rank 1, variant) "Well well, looks like things are kickin' off."

(when the Tenno reaches Rank 1, variant) "And we are away."

(when the Tenno reaches Rank 1, variant) "Nora wants to reach out to all of you and say: welcome to the family."

(when the Tenno advances in rank, variant) "Nora sleeps better knowing her Dreamers are out there, workin' to lift us up."

(when the Tenno advances in rank, variant) "Don't stop believin', Dreamers."

(when the Tenno advances in rank, variant) "You keep bein' you, Dreamers."

(when the Tenno reaches Rank 15, variant) "We got as many miles behind us as we do before us, but, Dreamers, we got this."

(when the Tenno reaches Rank 15, variant) "Sometimes the end never seems further than when you're halfway there. But I'm here to tell you all that you got this thing beat."

(when the Tenno reaches Rank 30, variant) "Some are born to greatness. Some have greatness thrust upon them. The rest of us, we just have to work at it. You all know who you are."

(when the Tenno reaches Rank 30, variant) "Never doubt yourselves, Dreamers. This System's up for grabs, and we are comin' for it with both hands, yes we are."

(when the Tenno reaches Rank 30, variant) "Ain't no stoppin' someone who knows their worth. Nora's feelin' good about the state of things tonight, yes she is."

Exiting Nightwave

"Let's get back to it."

"Til then."

"Ta ta, lovelies."

"It's time for Nora to say goodnight."

"You know it."

"Let's check what's next."

"And we're out."

"That's all we have time for."

"Comin' up next."

"That's all from me."

"Yeah."

Completing Act

"Ladies and gentlemen, listeners of all ages, I present to you, walking amongst us, the once and future badass!"

"Dreamers, I have for you a tale of triumph over adversity. Of one person actin' true to their truest self."

"Word's comin' in of so many of you bein' your best selves. Nora is just beside herself with admiration."

"Things seem tough, Nora knows, but believe: though it's going outta style, there are people workin' to make this System a better place."

"Dreamers, Dreamers, Dreamers! There just is no holding you back!"

"Get comfy, Dreamers; one of our own believes they are the equal of our foe and, baby, they are actin' like it."

"You wanna hit those high notes, you gotta mean it."

"If it's useful, do it."

"Any y'all see the feeds light up? It's goin' down, kids."

"Well, well, well. Looks like some serious crud is going down out there. Here's to you, anonymous troublemaker."

"From little things big things grow, Dreamers. I believe in you all."

"Many things have been taken from us, it's true. But Fortune favours the bold… and there ain't none so bold as people with nothin' to lose.

"You're making waves, Dreamers. I can feel it."

Nightwave series

Series 1: The Wolf of Saturn Six (27 Feb 2019 – 19 May 2019)

Intermission (12 June 2019 – 05 July 2019)

Series 2: The Emissary (06 July 2019 – current)

[Navigation: Hub → Dialogue → Nora Night]

[mystical-strawberry-sheep]

{Lol so it turns out that mild check ups during the day for me is just some Tumblr version of a hit-and-run where I come in every once in a while, like a bunch of posts, then leave. XD But I mean, hey. That's not that bad, right? I was here at least. (*●⁰ꈊ⁰●)ﾉ }

{Before I go to bed, I want to show y'all this thing that happened in the rp from the other platform: }

{⚠️TW for mentions of death.}

{Am I really going to give Hanekoma a keyblade? Mm, yeah, I think I will. This rp is really crazy anyway. He's talking to KH Aku, who died and is forever tethered to the Naruto universe? It's one of those major crossover things. Aku is... Not happy about it. And I was reminded of some hc I wanted to share.}

{KH Aku becomes incredibly loyal to her friends, right? This is a bit true for all Akus, but KH Aku has the strongest bond with her friends. So much so that she's one of those that refuses to pass on. Her heart will never be ready to move on through the Final World as long as she still has friends walking the worlds. The case in this rp is a little special since I've been Frankensteining different lores together, but it's still the basic principle. Her soul lingers in the UG of this verse because she refuses to move on as long as she has friends to protect.}

{Well, that's enough out of me. ^^ I think I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight, my lovelies, and have a wonderful rest of your day~}

[onelovewonderwoman]

the love will live on || peter parker x reader

This is really sad sheeeiit I told you guys i got some sad shit for y'alls, so here we go hoes

tags : @running-outta-time @munalisax @i-just-wanna-run-hell

words : 2354

warnings : really sad. like poor baby peter

Masterlist

---------------------

Getting up out of bed had become the most difficult thing you face throughout each day.

The arms that used to wrap themselves around your body to keep you warm was replaced with cold empty sheets.

It became a place of numerous break downs and tears shed into blindingly white pillows.

Countless missed calls and voicemails would flood your phone, bearing concern from the little family and friends you kept around.

Ned would spend each one of his mornings calling to make sure you got up out of that bed. He was the only one you listened to when you had the power to.

He told you one specific morning that you needed to get up and face the world for yourself; that the earth will only continue to spin, and there was nothing you could do about it.

So, you got up; but only to be met with a certain pair of glasses as you opened an almost empty drawer.

They were round, black rimmed glasses with a heavy prescription.

You remember the first time you saw those glasses; you remember the first time you met the person behind them.

You couldn't help but stare at nerdy boy as he pushed his glasses back up his face, profusely muttering apologies.

“Hey,” you caught his arm, making him look up at you with wide eyes as you spoke softly, “It's fine. What's your name?”

You'd bumped into the short boy as you both scattered to get to class, attempting to navigate the halls for the first time, as it was your first day in the seventh grade.

“P-Peter,” he calmed down, “Peter Parker.”

You smiled at him, making his heart melt and brain go numb, “I'm Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N,” you looped your arm through Peter’s, “So, what class do have first?”

You both began walking as he told you he had science class with Mr. Walker.

“Oh, no way! Me too,” you laughed and took another quick look at him as you both reached the lab, “Nice glasses, by the way.”

You couldn't help but let a tear slip onto the pair.

Shutting the drawer, you threw on random pieces of clothing and threw your hair up into a messy pile on top of your head.

Grabbing your apartment keys, you began to make your way out of your bedroom, before a flash of red caught your eye.

Moving the pile of clothing you had laying on your bed, you saw a familiar red mask with huge white eyes.

The same anxiety clouded your mind and heart as the first time you saw the mask in a very familiar bedroom.

It was sophomore year that you felt you grew distant from your best friend, Peter Parker.

After almost three months of the distance, apparently due to the Stark Internship, you decided you’d had enough of it.

When you made it to the Parker apartment, you were greeted by his aunt May, who now acted as a second mother to you.

She told you that he was just in the shower, and had no problem with you waiting in his room as you usually did.

Once you were in the boy’s room, surrounded by multiple lamps and posters, shirts with science puns were scattered here and there, and the bed left unmade, presumably because of the fact that Peter had been so close to late to class that morning.

But a very obvious red mask was splayed across the pillow, eyes wide and white with a black rim, one that did in fact remind you of the glasses the boy used to wear.

Eyes wide, you picked up the mask.

This explained everything.

Why he’d always flake on you. Why he didn't wear his glasses anymore. Why he got taller and began to fill out his shirts more. Why he'd been acting so weird.

He was the new hero of Queens.

Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

You only traced the outline of one of the eyes lightly when Peter came through the door, hair wet and in a pair of sweatpants and a loose shirt.

Your head shot up to be greeted his wide eyes and stuttering words, claiming he wasn't the web crawler, despite the evident on the pillow.

You laughed nervously before saying, “Hey, at least now maybe I can help,” you couldn't help but let a cheeky smile form, “I’ve seen all those videos on YouTube. You look like you need more training, Bug-Boy.”

It was then that you both laughed together, the two of you became a team and fell a little more in love with each other.

Shaking your head, you moved out of the bedroom.

You couldn't touch the mask that was now a darker shade of red due to the blood spilled on it.

It wasn't until you made it down to the lobby of the apartment complex when you realized what hoodie you’d thrown on.

It was one from your high school, a Midtown hoodie, but it was very much over sized. It didn't belong to you, at least not until a certain day in the 11th grade.

Your heart pounded as you sobbed in embarrassment, attempting to get all the food out of your hair and wash the shirt you were wearing as best as you could in the girls washroom at Midtown High School.

Certain girls who didn't like you, all because you defended two shy ninth grade girls from them, dumped as much food on you during the lunch hour, spewing hurtful words and laughing maliciously as others in the cafeteria did too.

Your sobs were interrupted when you heard the door swing open, and saw none other than Peter Parker come in.

“Hey,” he looked into your tearful eyes with sympathy and care for you, “Hey, it's okay. They're just insecure assholes. The principle caught them anyway.”

You proceeded to give him a tearful smile as he came forward to help you get all the food out of your hair, ending with completely rinsing it out with water, still leaving your light shirt a mess.

“Here,” Peter took off his sweater and handed it to you, “Wear this, it's fine.”

You have him a small smile before muttering a ‘Thanks, Pete’, having him turn for you to take off the wrecked shirt and put on the hoodie.

He took you into his arms moments later, muttering words into your ear about not listening to them, and how they're just jealous about how perfect you are.

It was then that you looked up at you best friend; your handsome best friend.

“I really do like you,” he whispered, “You've been there for me, and for Spider-Man, even though you don't have to.”

“That's what best friends do,” you looked at him, brushing away a loose hair away from his eyes, “and I like being best friends with you, a lot, but I think I’d like to be more.”

That day was day you got embarrassed in front of the whole school, but ended up sharing your first kiss with the love of your life.

You pulled at the sleeves, lifting your head up again and making your way out of the building.

Making your way through the windy streets, you were greeted with the sight of a couple, a young one too. They looked happy and in love. You caught sight of a ring on her left ring finger.

You took off your ring only a little while back.

You remember the day that bonded you with one person for the rest of your life. Now, that sentence sounds like it's a drag, but with the right person it was one of the best moments of your life.

After you and Peter had gotten together at age sixteen, it was six years later that Peter had proposed, and only a year after that you were standing in a room of a where you wedding had taken place with Michelle Jones attempting to calm your nerves.

“You really need to calm down,” she assorted, “It's just Peter. You've known each other forever.”

“Yeah, but this is different!” You put a hand over your stomach before saying, “Oh God, I think I'm gonna be sick.”

MJ’s eyes widened before she said sternly, “No, hey! Listen,” she grabbed onto your shoulders, “You're going to go out there and tell that boy,”

“Man.”

“Okay, sure, man, that you love him and are ready to spend the rest of your life with him. You are ready, right?”

“What, of course I am! I just,” you looked at Michelle, “I don't want anything to go wrong. I love him so much, and I want this to be the best day ever.”

Michelle smiled at you, “It will be,” her smile dropped before she told you in a demanding tone, “If you stop stressing so much.”

You nodded vigorously, “No stressing,” your mind drifted, “No stressing.”

When it was time, you began to walk down the isle with your father on your arm.

You saw Peter face, eyes wide and awestruck. He was so lucky to have you, and you the same.

When the time came to exchange vows, Peter had your eyes glazed over with tears.

His vows included of how he will their love would live on forever, no matter what happened. He thanked you for supporting him through everything, which you knew meant Spider-Man and his position, then, as an Avenger. He told you that you were everything to him, and the reason he woke up and did what he did everyday. Normally you'd be calling him a sap; but that day was different.

That day was the first day of the rest of your lives together.

Another tear managed to slip down your cheek as your eyes glazed over.

Everything you saw reminded you of him. Even in the fourteen years you'd spent together since the seventh grade, the two of you had made so many memories together. From sad ones to the most happy. You had them all.  

As you were walking through a park to make it to your destination, you were stopped by two young children, trying to catch each other in what you guessed was a game of tag, their mother apologized to you about them running past you so suddenly, as their father laughed with them.

You and Peter had always wanted kids; you both knew that from the beginning.

It didn't take very long for you and Peter to get started on having kids. It wasn't really planned at the time, though, it was just the fact that you were on your honeymoon.

It was a month after that you found out you were pregnant.

The both of you were ecstatic. You didn't tell anyone, not until you would've reached four months, only telling May and your parents, as you both felt that they deserved to know.

You both didn't waste time, buying all the parenting books you could find, reading up on pregnancy and healthily diets. You both did all you could.

Until you woke up, seven weeks after you found out about the pregnancy, bleeding in bed.

Peter had you rushed to the hospital, the both of you hoping and praying it wasn't what you thought it was.

That night you only heard the word miscarriage before going numb all over. Tears clouded your vision as Peter stayed frozen in his spot, unable to comprehend what had been happening.

You gulped before resuming to walk, only a couple feet away from the gates of your destination, getting slower with each step you took.

You didn't want to face what you were about to, but you had to do it. It was the only way to move on.

You remember the day Tony Stark came to the same apartment you left this morning. The one you used to share with your love.

You had been so overly excited, but at the same time overly worried, to see Peter after his latest mission with the Avengers; it was also so close to your third wedding anniversary, and you were glad he'd be home and not half way across the world for it.

You heard a knock at the door as you had finished setting the table.

Shaking your head, you laughed, thinking that Peter had forgotten his keys once again. He never hid a spare outside, he always thought it dangerous, especially with all the enemies he had.

You rushed to the door, a huge smile on your face, only to be met with a bruised up, disheveled, Tony Stark, when you swung open the door.

The smile from your face dropped as you saw him with tearful eyes and a look of regret on his face. It didn't take you long to understand, but your mind going straight into denial.

“Tony,” your voice lowered and wavered, “Where's Peter?”

He let out a shaky breath before saying, “I'm so sorry. We tried to help, but no one could save hi-,”

He cut himself off when he saw you shaking your head vigorously, “No.”

“Y/N,” he reached forward, only for you to back up out of his grasp and look to the ground, not letting a tear fall.

He sighed and gave you another regretful look, “If you need anything, don't hesitate. Please.”

With that he left.

It was then that you let numerous tears fall to the ground, your legs giving out as you hunched over, sobbing and sobbing, not stopping until you fell asleep on the floor that night.

You walked for what seemed like forever after passing the tall gates, finally reaching what you were looking for.

The stone you stopped at had his name and years engraved ‘Peter Parker, 2002-2028’. It stated that he was many things, such as a beloved husband, son, and nephew; but also an Avenger, who saved the lives of many.

You slowly got on your knees, looking at the stone for a few moments before speaking, you voice cracking,

“Hey Peter,” you took a breath, “Happy anniversary.”

[liesofthepatriarchy]

On the subject of whether it is worthwhile for POC to try to talk to whites about racism, this man broke it down perfectly. And I agree with every point he elucidated: "Nope. Not in the least. As far as "why?" Let me count the ways... 1) They don't even know what racism is. - They are incapable of even recognizing it. Can't properly define it. And don't even understand the basic functions, impacts, or consequences of it. Trying to talk to a white person about dismantling *any* form of racism is like trying to strategize with a 5 year old on the most efficient way to cook a Thanksgiving dinner for 100 people when the child doesn't even know how to boil water properly. I mean... you can technically do it, of course. But... really? That's silly. 2) They hate us. - People like to talk about how "nobody is born racist" and shit... so what? That has ZERO influence on real life. The culture that a person is born in HIGHLY dictates a large portion of a person's viewpoint on the world. The "white culture" AND America at large are both racist, anti-PoC cultures. White people are *born* into a racist culture, system, and usually families. So, yeah. While white people aren't born racist... functionally, they are. All of them. In all practicality, white people are born into racism... in all of its forms. They are literally bred for it. This is leads to... 3) The culture and system is specially designed for *them.* - White folks (the old, dead ones) customly designed and built America for white folks and white folks only. It benefits them in every single way possible. Quite frankly... white folks aren't giving that up. Not without a fight. They may talk the talk, but they aren't walking this walk. Speaking of which... 4) They aren't about this life. - Justice, Righteousness, Decency... they don't have a grasp of these concepts. Sure, they know the words, but they have no functional understanding of any of these concepts. White people operate on a COMPLETELY different set of principles... if you can call it that... than we do. White people operate on a principle I like to call "What I Can Get Away With." Let me explain: The foundation of their principle is this Legality. And it operates, simplistically, like this: "If it is illegal, it's wrong. If it is legal, it's right." Now, this isn't in stone, as it is very much fluid. But this IS their starting point. For example, when talking about a racist person, it's alllllllways some white person, somewhere, that has to point out that "Well, being racist isn't illegal!" 😑 No shit, sherlock. Fuck does that have to do... nevermind. Don't want to get sidetracked. This is already going to be long enough as it is. Anyways... To them, being racist - as much as they can understand it at least - isn't even a "bad" thing. Because it isn't illegal. I mean, yeah. They will *say* it's bad, sure. Because they live in a century where it is, on paper, looked down upon. But they don't really think or feel that it is. That's why you will have so many of them voting for people like David Duke down in New Orleans a few decades back, or Donald Trump today. Racism just isn't *that bad* to white folks. Largely because they never experience any of the negative repercussions of racism; only the positive aspect of it, which of course, only benefits white people. So that was the first layer. The second layer of 'What I Can Get Away With' is: What the opposing force can prove vs. what they can't prove. This is what keeps housing discrimination, racist hiring/firing practices, police gangster murders, the indoctrination system (most call it "public school), institutionalized racism, systemic racism, and the in-between racist bits alive, healthy, and well. Because they are hard to prove. And if we can't prove it, we can't properly fight it. But even still, like in the cases of Philando Castile, Tamir Rice, and Eric Gardener, to name a few, we CAN sometimes definitively prove that something racist happened. Of course, this leads me to the 3rd layer of "What I Can Get Away With." And that is: What they can and cannot prosecute me with and win. Easy enough to explain. Considering the fact that they control all law enforcement gangsters, lawyers, judges, jails, prisons, Governors, Mayors, other state positions, Senate, House of Representatives, military, most multi-billion dollar companies, most multimillion dollar companies, etc., etc., etc... well, we are pretty much screwed in that department. Far more often than not. But it makes life so very easy for them. And absolves them of all responsibility for anything bad that happens to the "other" people. So that is, in simple format (because there layers to this shit. Layers upon the layers that I mentioned already), is their functioning principle: "What I Can Get Away With." Not a flashy name for it, I know. But when something THIS damaging functions THAT we'll for a dominating group, it doesn't have to be. Alright. Moving on. 5) They are not responsible people. - White folks take little-to-no responsibility for their shit. Even when they are 100% wrong and can't dispute it? They will tell us, straight up, "Fuck you. Now shut up and take it." Two Examples: All of the treaties america has broken with the Indigenous people. And then, 2) The destruction and massacre of Black Wall Street. After that went down, the city of Tulsa had a meeting about what to do about the murders and destruction. Of course, as usual, there was this one (or two) anomaly(ies) (white people) that were like: "Hey, we need to rebuild that area and comp the surviving Black folks. It's the right thing to do!" And of course, also as usual, the other 98% of the white folks was like: "Man, fuck that. They shouldn't have been successful while minding their business anyways. Besides, do you know how bad it could have gotten if their children inherited all of that and built up on it?? Why, there would be chaos in the streets! Nuh, uh. Fuck them. We are covering this up. No news articles, no new coverage, and deny, deny, deny. Say there was an accident and that just a FEW hundred niggers died and call it a day. Dismissed." And that was the story from then on out, for year, until it no longer was and the truth came out. Of course, even then, white folks were still like "Eh. Fuck y'all, still." Until the 2000s, when the statute of limitations expired and the city of Tulsa could no longer be sued. A Tulsa, Oklahoma police thug came out an "openly admitted" to the events of that "tragic and fateful night" and such. And even offered up some bullshit apology followed up with "I hope we can heal from this now." White people are so fucking irresponsible. No way can they fight against a system that spoils them rotten. White people are always talking about "moving forward" but only at the cost of Black folks losing out on what is rightfully due to us. Hiding behind the "Well, I didn't do it, the dead white folks did. Get what you're owed from them." mantra. They don't want progress. They want to definitively get away with the shit they have done to us. But as long as we speak on their abuse, they can't put it behind them. And this leads me to... 6) They aren't going to put in the work. - And their history shows this. White folks want to be trusted, but they don't want to earn that trust. They fail to have any understanding on how the world functions outside of their whiteness. You see... Black people and other minorities distrust (and many hate or strongly dislike) white people because of the shit they actually DID. Because of things that were DONE. TO us. BY them. They EARNED our distrust. But they have NOT earned our trust. Black Wall Street, Slocum Massacre, Sweet Auburn, Rosewood Massacre, Tuskegee Expiaments, Chicago Race Riots, the lands stolen from Black people in places like Birmingham, Kentucky, Pierce City, Missouri, Ocoee, Florida, Holmes County, Mississippi, and Sweet Water, Alabama (just to name a few), Pig Laws, Black Codes, Jim Crow era- these, and more, are ACTIONS, and I mean BIG actions, that has EARNED every bit of distrust and dislike toward them. And they have ZERO record of doing the opposite. (And, no. Two or three white people donating to a charity for a tax break doesn't measure up against even a SINGLE Black life. Or Indigenous life. Or Hispanic life. Etc. Two or three hundred white folks participating in a march doesn't mean SHIT at this level that I am talking about. Appreciated? Sure. But that's still BARELY a drop in the preverbial bucket. Barely.) White people ain't doing this work. They have no investment in it, not even the most basic understanding needed to get started, and nothing to gain from it. And, yeah, there are your anomalies here and there. Obviously I'm not talking about those 8 or 9 hundred people or so. So any bleeding heart that made it this far can take a breath and prevent your "not all white people" mantra. I don't want to hear it. Those are just a FEW reasons why I think that talking to white folks about this is an utter waste of time. I respect those that try. But I'm not doing it. Too much work for too little (none) reward."

[get-a-new-lease-on-life]

A New Lease on Life - 6: Cohabitation Chaos

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6: Cohabitation Chaos

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Hey, Folks! So far this story has been primarily doom and gloom - and the doom and gloom is far from over - so I figured it was time for some fluff - a little breather from the drama, if you will. After all, when people move in together madness ensues and Amber hasn't been living with the guys very long at all. Hope this light-hearted chapter doesn't disappoint! Dedicated to all us short chicks livin' in a tall man's world.

Trigger warnings: The usual plus a very mild lime—nothing too descriptive, it's very brief and practically pointless to skip.

Suggested Listening: Simon and Garfunkel, "Bridge Over Troubled Water"

February 10th

Not one step out the bathroom door, Amber's ears picked up the sound of scrambling and frantic words in the kitchen. "Not even five minutes, an' there's already more work to be done," she sighed tiredly. "I'm gettin' too old for this."

In the kitchen doorway, she was greeted by the sight of Mikey scrubbing frantically at a grimy blackened pile of something on the countertop—the countertop Amber scrubbed clean after lunch. "What happened?" she deadpanned. Mikey whipped about with a girly shriek and the grubby sponge went flying across the room to land in the corner with a splat.

"I didn't do it!" he exclaimed, waving his hands defensively. "It's not my fault!"

"Yeah, you did, and it is," Leo contradicted sternly, leaning back against the opposite wall. "You took the crumb tray off the toaster so the leftover pizza would fit. Everything melted off the pizza and burned onto the countertop...and you probably murdered the toaster." Mikey grinned sheepishly, rubbing his neck.

"Heheh," he laughed nervously. "Well, at least you didn't break it, this time, right Bruh?" Leo stared back without a word, clearly unimpressed; sure, the toaster hated him, but was that really his fault?

With a long-suffering sigh, Amber approached the scorched cheese, sauce, and toppings. "Lemme get this straight." She grabbed the dripping sponge from the floor and wrung it out over the sink. "You packed the toaster full of pizza, left the crumb tray pushed aside and nothing underneath, then tried scrubbing the mess off with cold water and a half-dead sponge."

"The water was warm," he protested weakly. "And—" She cut him off, flinging her arms wide.

"Water, Mikey, water!" Sometimes Mikey reminded her of a less socially awkward Aaron; she forced the thought away as she chucked the sponge in the sink and started digging through a low cabinet. "You tried cleanin' up a hot, greasy, burned-on mess with water! Water alone will never clean up grease, especially burned grease!"

Armed with a box of baking soda, a spray bottle of white vinegar, and a plastic chisel, she tackled the mess. Once she'd chipped and scraped off as much as she could, she piled baking soda on the remainder. "Towels, Mikey?" she asked, startling him into action. With a couple old towels laid around the mess as a barrier, she started spraying the baking soda with vinegar.

"Whoa!" Mikey uttered as the mixture foamed violently with every spray. "What happened?" Amber shrugged noncommittally.

"It's just a chemical reaction, Mike," she answered, never noticing Donatello slip into the kitchen for coffee. "Vinegar's an acid, an' bakin' soda's a base; when they're combined, vinegar steals a hydrogen atom from the soda. The reaction produces water an' carbon dioxide, hence the fo—" Mid-spray she turned to look at Mikey; he was staring at her, bewildered. "Bakin' soda an' vinegar make a foamy mess that's great for burnin' off stubborn grease," she simplified gruffly.

"Oh!" he exclaimed with a wide grin. "So, you got this?" A dirty look from both Donnie and Leo made him cringe. "Eh…I mean, ya need a hand?" With a humoring smile, she passed him the spray bottle.

"Keep sprayin' 'til it stops foamin', then scrub off the rest an' rinse it off. Call me if ya need help, 'kay?" He pouted, but nodded in agreement and took over spraying the still foaming mass. With a grin at Leo and Donnie, Amber returned to dusting the dojo.

"'Just a chemical reaction,' huh?" Donatello smirked at her from the doorway. "You realize he probably has no idea what a 'base' is, right?"

"Meh," she shrugged, hopping up on her toes to reach part of the weapons rack. "Not my fault—I ain't his Mama. Joke's on him, anyway - he kin spray it 'til the pigs come home,- it's gonna keep foamin' up."

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" The unexpected comment caught her off guard, and though she knew he meant no harm, it rubbed her wrong. "I'd never have expected—"

"What?" she retorted sharply, stretching as high as possible. "My native language is Hick, so I must be a moron?"

"No!" he protested loudly. Her tenuous balance failed and she fell into his outstretched arms. "I just didn't—I mean—Ah, shell, I messed up again." Right above hers, shielded hazel eyes winced. "Do-over?" he proposed as he helped her back to her feet. Amber sighed in frustration, but plopped down on the dojo floor cross-legged; he followed suit, stretching out beside her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, avoiding his eyes. "I dunno why I've been so—so cranky lately…I'm usually not the sort to get mad without damn good reason, but here I've been blowing up all over everyone for no reason. I dunno what's wrong with me…My Mama whupped my hide- fer far less'n- this."

"You've been through a lot, Amber," Donatello argued. "Your life is—"

"Yeah, yeah, I died an' all that," she interrupted. "None'a that's any excuse for bein' a total bitch to y'all over nothin'. I just wish I knew what was wrong with me."

Decade old rosebushes buried under a ton of shingles. Trees shaved bare of bark and twigs.

He watched her silently a moment; her head was bowed and her trembling shoulders drawn tight, a sure sign that she was again fighting memories she couldn't shut off. If only he could help...He knew it wasn't much, but he gripped her shoulder supportively. Not surprisingly, she leaned into his side, shivering.

"I jus' wish I could shut off these thoughts—these memories—" She shook her head viciously, haunted eyes staring through the gleaming floorboards.

Fiberglass tumbleweeds drift across a vacant parking lot.

"It's crazy, but it's almost like someone else is in control of my thoughts, my memories, an' they're trying to break me with them! I just…" she trailed off, turning to timidly meet his eyes. "Donnie…what if April's right? What if I am…broken?"

"No one said anything about being broken," he answered sternly, hoping she hadn't heard April suggest just such a thing. "I was hoping you hadn't heard that conversation." She slumped further.

"I came to apologize. It's not your fault I feel too sick to eat, yer just tryin' to help me."

Outstretched hands holding a mug of cloudy soup. A familiar voice begging her to eat.

"I…" Her voice cracked. "I shouldn't be here…I shouldn't e'en be alive. If I stayed dead, this wouldn't be happening!"

The bottom fell out of Donatello's stomach. "You don't…you're not wishing you were dead, are you?" he asked softly. "Amber, you got a second chance…if you hadn't, if you'd stayed dead," He swallowed noisily, avoiding her eyes. "W-We'd never have met…and without the repeated alarms, we'd never have found Kimber's body…she'd have been unable to rest, forgotten in the underground."

She blushed, distractedly hitching her tee shirt up higher. The neckline didn't bare the hated tattoo she now bore, but it still made her uncomfortable knowing it was there. She still felt sorry for the death of the body's previous occupant, but she had yet to feel anything but annoyance for the woman herself. Damned Purple Dragon punks, she thought darkly.

"Do you regret it?" Donnie asked hesitantly. "—regret meeting us?"

"Of course not," she answered with a tired smile. "How could I regret meeting you—all of you?" she added hastily. She didn't want to come across as creepy, after all. She didn't notice the mild disappointment in her companion's eyes. "I guess…I guess I just don't know what to feel, really. Of all the people who didn't make it out of that storm, why'd I get a second chance? I never use this word out of principle," she almost spat, her tone harsh. "But it just doesn't seem fair that I lived and they didn't! Whole families died—mothers, fathers, children, elderly, no one was excluded! Half my town's first-responders were killed or injured! Why'd I get a second chance when so many who're more worthy weren't spared?!"

Donatello wasn't at all surprised when she practically fell into his open arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He was a little disappointed, though. It had been thirteen days since Amber first dove into his arms in the throes of a panic attack and twelve since he admitted to her that he didn't mind it. He was her bridge over troubled water, her port in the storm, and he would never turn away someone who really needed him.

Ever since getting the okay, she sought comfort in his arms when she felt her world crashing down. When she found herself unable to fight off the demons on her own, she invaded his personal space until she could breathe again.

Not that he minded, he reminded himself silently, awkwardly petting her hair. He was only too glad to help whenever he could…and if he was honest with himself, he enjoyed the contact. Therein lay the rub…she only sought his arms when she needed comfort. She needed comfort, consolation, not affection and the like. For all he knew, she left a lover behind in her old life. The very idea stung; twice now, a woman had been practically dropped into his family's laps, and both times, that woman hadn't considered them human enough for a relationship. Though he'd never agree with any of Raphael's outbursts aloud, it was apparent to him as well…Love wasn't in their cards.

"PSST!" A sudden hiss from the open doorway drew his attention away from the crying redhead. Mikey stood just outside pantomiming an embrace and 'talking' with his hands.

"SHOO," Donatello mouthed back at him. The other threw his hands up in disbelief and stalked away only to return with a whiteboard from the lab. After a moment of scribbling, the board was raised and the words became clear. Quit huggin her & talk—she needs a distraction! The moment Mikey's point became clear, Donnie met his eyes with a wide-eyed halfway panicked stare, shaking his head frantically. Mikey scrubbed the board clean with the sleeve of the hoodie tied around his waist, scrawled another message, then shoved it at Donnie with a pout. Don't make me 'axidently'- break something. TALK or Mr. Coffee gets it!

'You drive a hard bargain, Mikey,' Donatello thought at his younger brother with a scowl. 'And your spelling is terrible.' Somehow he managed to throw an 'I'm watching you' gesture at his younger brother without disturbing the still sniffling woman buried face-first in his other side. Clearly content that his advice was taken, Mikey swaggered off with a smug grin.

As his footsteps faded, Donatello rubbed Amber's back. "Come on," he murmured teasingly. "I know life's a pain right now, but you don't have to suffocate yourself in my armpit." She responded with a snort, burrowing even deeper into his side. "Or not. Your choice, really."

"You don't stink," she grumbled into his plastron. "Turkeys stink—Compared to those, you're a bed'a roses, even after training." Sure she was through crying, she slumped at his side, leaning back against his shoulder. "Thanks…an' sorry for cryin' on ya…again."

"Don't worry about it, Braids," he grinned, chucking her chin. "I'm happy to oblige." They sat in silence a moment, one fighting to contain an excited girly squeal at the nickname and the other searching for ways to distract her.

"I' gotta keep busy, Dunnie," she admitted softly, staring through the weapons rack. She loved his new nickname for her - loved that he cared for her enough to give her a nickname - but it didn't change the facts. She was a mess...a mess he shouldn't have to deal with. "The moment I stop workin' is the moment I start thinkin'…and whenever I think, I remember." She swiped at her cheek to dash away the last of her tears, feeling angry and weak. "What if April's right? What if I do have PTSD?" He stood and brushed his trousers off, then held out his hand to her.

"We'll cross that bridge if and when we get there," he answered confidently. "Until then, there's no use in worrying about it, right?" She accepted the hand up with a bright blush but smiled regardless. Without hesitation, she threw herself back into her dusting.

"Sorry I took your head off…again. It's not your fault you didn't know about that button."

"Button?" he echoed back, watching her closely. She was, after all, pretty clumsy...too clumsy to be left alone with the weapons, even if he actually wanted to leave her alone.

She shrugged. "Yeah, everyone's got buttons, you know," she reminded as though he understood completely. "Big red mental buttons that should never be pushed an' usually result in nuclear fallout when they are. Some people can't handle being called a certain name, some can't handle being reminded'a certain things..." She snorted, grinning at a fond memory. "Heck, my best friend, Mercy - one of her worst buttons was hearing people using words like bipolar, gay, and the like as insults. She wasn't really violence prone, but the one time Aaron called her a 'bipolar bitch,' she 'bout knocked one'a his teeth out." Her face fell the moment she realized it - she wasn't going to see Mercy or Aaron again and the knowledge, though logical, hurt. "I don't really get too bent out'a shape over being called names or reminded of things," she finished instead of admitting her upset. "but whenever someone implies that I'm stupid, they're cruisin' fer a bruisin'."

"You thought I was calling you stupid?" Donnie shook his head. "I simply meant that you've shown little interest in anything but cleaning and cooking in all this time—I know practically nothing about you, but it's blatantly obvious that despite your rough speech, you're not an idiot."

Amber winced avoiding his eyes. "Sammy remembered a lesson the shepherd had given her," she recited softly without much of her usual twang; the author, after all, didn't write with that twang. "…gentle spirit may express itself in the rude words of illiteracy; it is not therefore rude. Ruffianism may speak the language of learning or religion; it is ruffianism still. Strength may wear the garb of weakness, an' still be strong; an' a weakling may carry the weapons of strength but fight with a weak heart." She finally met his eyes. "Harold Bell Wright wrote that in his book Shepherd of the Hills, an' it's entirely true. I walk like a hick, talk like a hick, an' live like a hick, but I'm not an IGNORANT hick." She was more than a hick, she reminded herself tackling the rack of staves, but the hick was what people saw most - it was more acceptable than the side of her she'd suppressed, after all, especially where she came from.

"I couldn't keep my grades up during school," she admitted instead of admitting the thoughts on her mind. "My classmates were absolute terrors, an' livin' in fear of getting the shit kicked out'a ya tends to make schoolin' less of a priority. Soon as I got out'a high school an' into college, though," she grinned almost smugly, "I blew their arses out'a the water—set the curves, aced everything but mathematics an' government, wound up on the Dean's list—well, you get the point."

"Why am I not surprised?" he asked with a low laugh. "You always struck me as too smart for your own good. So you graduated, then?" Her smile cracked; it was a sore subject, but he couldn't know that.

"I was only a few credits away from graduatin' with honors when some moron decided to park a van on my ass mid-crosswalk," she admitted. "It's a miracle I wasn't paralyzed from the waist down. Between physical therapy, corrective surgeries, re-learnin how to walk, an' mountains of legal bullshite, I dropped out; by the time I could walk without a cane, my credits weren't valid anymore an' I was too tired to start over…" ...and too apathetic, she added silently, but he didn't need to know that. She stretched up to reach the top rack again, avoiding his eyes. "I've been very blessed, though - I survived, I met some wonderful people, an' despite my occasional whining, I was happy. I spent the rest of my life workin' as a janitor, but by God, I proved without a shadow of a doubt that I'm not an idiot…and last I knew, my university still hadn't seen anyone beat my cumulative GPA."

"It must have been amazing," Donatello said quietly, his thoughts far from the dojo. "What I'd give for a chance to get a proper education…"

'Dammit, O'Brien,' she thought angrily. 'Ya just had to rub it in his face—quit bein' such a smug braggart!' "For what it's worth," she said brightly. "People go to school to learn; y'already know most of what the curriculum requires. Plus, what with all the other smarts you have piled up in yer brain, if ya crammed a whole major's worth more in there, it'd probably crash from overload—major 'blue screen'a death' stuff, really." He retorted with a sly grin.

"You're just scared I'll beat your records," he teased. "Couldn't handle havin' a turtle beat you at, say, algebra."

"No contest there," she grinned in response, surveying the impressive cobwebs in the rafters of the room; she could never reach them, and it was driving her bonkers. "A rock could beat me at algebra." Without warning, he swept her off her feet and onto his shoulders; between shrieks and threats, he chuckled,

"Get those cobwebs—they said 'yer mama wears army boots.'"

"Yeah?" she squawked, smacking him with the dust-rag. "Well, yer mama couldn't outrun a snail!" As the two traded quips and tackled the dusty rafters, Mikey darted back to the TV, satisfied in a hard day's meddling.

"Amber?" She bolted upright in bed, scanning the dark bedroom. "Amber, are you up?"

"Yeah," she answered softly as her eyes registered Donatello seated on the edge of her lumpy bed, unmasked and wearing only his trousers. He made the dark, cluttered room seem small - granted, her little 'shotgun shack' wasn't that big to begin with, but the presence of the tall, gangly mutant seemed to make it seem much smaller. "I am now. What's going on?" He shrugged, his lips tilted in an easy smile.

"I just couldn't stop thinking about you, really." He brushed a lock of dark brown hair from her cheek behind her ear, triggering a deep blush. "You wouldn't stay out of my dreams…so I came to invade yours. You don't mind, do you?" Warmth bloomed in her core at his confident, playful smile.

"Uh…" she stammered as his knuckles traced her cheekbone and jaw. Even without her glasses, she could plainly see the heat in his eyes - AND where this was going. "O-Of course not—you're always welcome here." Her pulse raced as his fingertips trailed over to her pulse point, hovering there long enough to sense the rapid beat.

"There's no need to be afraid, Braids," he murmured leaning in to bury his snout in her loose hair. "I'm here…I'll protect you." The words were stolen right from her lungs by a slow, sensual brush of lips on hers; as though gaining confidence from her suddenly gelatinous bones, he repeated the gesture several times more, then rubbed his snout against her nose. She whimpered and clung to him as he drew away the blanket and blazed a burning trail down her body. "Let me take care of you?" Before she could argue, her clothing was gone and his head was buried between her quaking thighs.

"DONNIE" she cried aloud as he sucked and lapped at her hot, naked flesh. "Oh Lawd —Oh God, DONNIE!"

"That's it, Amber," he murmured, his voice husky from heat and want. "Don't hold back—let go, I'm here." His words sent twinges down her spine—twinges that distracted her from how unexpected they were. "Amber…Brilliant, beautiful, precious Amber…" Only a little more—just a little longer, and she'd—

"Mikey!" A deafening roar startled Amber from her sleep and onto the floor in a sweaty pile. "I said LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" As Raph and Mike tussled in the living room, Amber realized what had occurred.

"Goddammit!" she snarled as she hoisted herself up onto the cot again, swatting her punch red hair back over her shoulders. 'If it ain't fuckin' nightmares, it's wet dreams,' she thought darkly, beating the lumpy pillow into submission. Finally, she had a good dream...and Raph murdered it! 'April's draggin' me out tomorrow—I gotta get some sleep.'

Unseen by the irate female, Donatello rolled his eyes and returned to fixing the toaster. The lab had been stifling with her pheromones, but the air was finally clearing.

Hours later as the sun rose over Manhattan, a badly off-key voice belted out "Poison Ivy" in the lair's bathroom. One half-asleep ninja staggered to the kitchen for coffee while two more slept soundly. Two rooms away, the remaining two snored to beat the band, both tied to their beds spread-eagled and one gagged with a dirty sock.

Revenge, Amber thought later as she texted pictures to April's phone, is sweet.

WORDS (Midwestern twang unless otherwise noted)

-Axidently - Mikey's spelling is atrocious. "Accidentally." - Lawd - Lord. This is actually a more Southern pronunciation than Midwestern, but it sometimes makes its way over the Arkansas-Missouri state line to southern Missouri, where Amber is from. - Less'n - This one has two possible meanings depending on its use. First meaning is simply less than. Second meaning, also sometimes written out as Unless'n or 'n'less'n is just an elaborated version of unless. The first meaning is much more commonly used unless the speaker is being a smartass. - None'a - None of - Schoolin' - This isn't typical Midwestern Twang, but rather an odd term Amber picked up from her Gran'Da. Simply means "Schooling," or rather, 'going to school and taking classes.' - Y'already - You already - "Whupped my hide" / A whuppin' - Whuppin' refers to punishment of a child by way of spanking or noisy blows to the rear, usually with a yard stick, paddle, or belt, or in more extreme cases, 'a whuppin' stick' or switch. It's not really considered abuse except among folks who consider spanking abuse, and a child is more likely to become a heathen from never having it than from having it. As recently as Cold's childhood, it was still considered acceptable to send your kid out back, make them 'pick a switch,' then use it to smack their asses instead of spanking them. The whole point behind whuppin' a kid is not to cause injury, but to punish them by way of emotional distress over the noise. Conversely, when someone tells an adult "I'll whup yer ass," "I'll give you a whuppin'," or something similar, they're referring to laying a beat-down on them by way of fisticuffs instead of spanking them. - "He kin spray it 'til the pigs come home" - 'He can spray it until the pigs come home.' NORMALLY people say 'til the COWS come home but my research into Scottish slang indicates that cow is regarded as a serious insult, one of the worst you can aim at a woman. Because of that, Amber replaces cows with pigs. Regarding Vinegar and Baking Soda: After the two have been mixed and the bubbling’s stopped, they don’t really do a damn thing. If you mix them on the surface you’re cleaning, some messes will loosen or ‘burn off’ from the bubbling. And yes, it WILL keep foaming up as long as you keep adding vinegar or baking soda, no matter how diluted it gets. Consider that Amber’s way of getting back at Mikey for neglecting common sense. - Adding 'a to the end of a word - This can have two different meanings, depending on how the rest of the sentence is put together. Sometimes it means 'to,' like tryin'a means 'trying to;' other times, it means 'of,' as in out'a which means 'out of.' Generally you can determine the meaning of the 'a by the preceding word - preceded by a verb usually means 'to' while 'of' can be preceded by a verb OR a non-verb, generally any word you're likely to use 'of' after.

One more note: "Poison Ivy" is a song originally recorded by The Coasters, and it's a real crackup! Seriously, the first time I heard it, after years of breaking out in hives just from walking past poison ivy, I laughed so hard I stopped breathing. Give it a listen sometime if you need a laugh.

Hope you enjoyed the fluffy reprieve, because it's time to torture Amber again.

Up Next: Best Laid Plans

Chapter List

[gizoogletranslateshomestuck]

> Karkat in tha hood: Recrizzle Vrizniska.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] begizzle troll'n arachnizzle [AG]

CG: OK DIS BE GO'N TO SOUND PREPOSTEROUS GIVEN OUR LAST CONVERSATION. CG cuz its a G thang: N I GIZZAY PRACTICALLY EVIZZLE CONVIZZLE PRECED'N IT. CG: N I'M PROBABLY MACKIN' TA HIZZLE TA DO SUM-M SUM-M COMPLETIZZLE DOGGY STYLIN' LIKE APOLOGIZE. CG: N EVEN TIZZY I'LL HATE MYSIZZELF FO` IT I WILL TOTALLIZZLE MEAN IT, I PROMISE. CG: LIKE, REALLY REALLY MEAN IT. 

AG: Yoe going ta ask me ta jiznoin yo' team, aren't yiznou. 

CG: It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg. YEAH. CG: HOW DID YOU KNOW. 

AG: I dizzay sizzay ta hizzy mizzy C-H-to-tha-izzoice now! Aradia kicked me off tha gizzay team. 

CG: Aint no L-I-M-I-to-tha-T. HAHAHAHA WOW THAT BE BOOTYLICIOUS. CG in tha mutha fuckin club: WAIT, SORRY. CG: NO WAIT, I DIZNON'T HAVE TO APOLOGIZE, THAT RIGHT. YOU HIZZAVE NO CHOICE NOW. CG: I APOLOGIZE TA MYSELF FO` OFFERING YIZZLE A SHITTY MEANINGLESS APOLOGY. CG: APOLIZZLE ACCEPTIZZLE, KARKAT. LET BIZZLE THA THRESHA WITTA TOTALLIZZLE PLATONIC BRO B-TO-THA-IZZULGE BUMP. CG: BUMP HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. 

AG: You dork. AG: D-ya really think yo' usual pedantic quips be perpetratin' ta 8ug me now???????? 

CG: Keep'n it gangsta dogg. I'M NOT TRY'N TA BUG YIZZY I'M MACKIN' TA GET YIZZY TA JOIN MAH DAMN TIZZLE, NOW STEP 'N LIZZLE SERKET. 

AG: I was jizzy 8etrayed n a8andonded 8y mah twizno accomplices n 8est pals, and on top of that I be soaked 'n tha 8lood of my lusus which I jizzay hizzle ta decapit8 myself. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. AG: So listen'n ta a cra88y asshole 8e all tickled wit his own mediocre rizzles isn't rhymin' ta spizzoil mah even'n so you betta run and grab yo glock! 

CG: OK, WIZZY, SORRIZZLE TA H-TO-THA-IZZEAR 'BOUT THAT. CG: BUT I MEAN YOU CAN JUST DUMP NIGGA CARCASS 'N THA KERNEL N BR'N HA BACK STRONGA THIZNAN EVER. 

AG: Wow. AG: Uh, good ta know. AG fo yo bitch ass: I giznuess.  like this and like that and like this and uh::::\ 

CG: NOW WIZZY DON'T YOU HIZZAY 'N THA TRAP, WIZZAY TIZZY NASTY BLUE SIZZY OIZZY, N JIZZAY OUR SAGGIN' SESSION ALREADY.  

AG: Wizzy! It so rude ta D-to-tha-izzict8 hygizzle procizzle ta a lizzle. Under any circumstance! Even for douchey loudmizzles wit delusions of leadizzle. Boom bam as I step in the jam, God damn. AG: Mizzay8e you should trizny ta think a8out tha dizzum8 th'n that fall out of yo' protein chute fo` once, Vantizzles. 

CG: BLAH BLIZZLE BLAH. CG: Keep'n it gangsta dogg. NOW MAH CHUTE BE MACKIN' A FUCK'N STELLAR IMPRESSION OF SUM-M SUM-M THAT DOESN'T G-TO-THA-IZZIVE A SHIT. 

AG aww nah: anyway, you kizzy mah 8lood tha prettizzle n you'd o8viously kill ta have it. 

CG hittin that booty: NO IT SUCKS. CG cuz its a doggy dog world: TOTALLY STOKED WITH MINE, FUNKY ASS TRIZZAY THOUGH. 

AG ridin' in mah double R: 8S! AG in all flavas: Wizzy wizzy yizzay hide 8ehind your lame griznay anonymity then? AG: Yizzy do realize everyone thinks that totally lizzay, right???????? 

CG: IT NOBODY BUSINESS. CG: I DIZZY SEE WHY IT SHOULD BE A MATTA OF PUBLIZZLE RECORD. CG: I'M NOT HO-SLAPPIN' TA WIZZEAR THAT SHIT ON MAH SLEEVE LIKE YOU DO. CG: LITERALLY N FIGURATIVELY. CG: IT PRIVATE, SO EVERYONE CIZZAY GO PIZZAY THEY PROB'N BUSYBODY SNIFFNODIZZLE UP THEY OWN IMPERTINENT SEE' FLAPS.  

AG: Fine. Like anyone rizzle cares! It jizzust lame and insecure. Hollaz to the East Side. AG: So why don't you tizzell me whizzay I've gots ta do H-to-tha-izzere spittin' that real shit???????? I await instructizzle from mah 8izzle a8looded leada cuz its a pimp thang. 

CG: OK FIRST TH'N FIRST. CG: YOU'VE GOTS TA CIZZLE WIT TIZZLE QUICKLY N GIT HIZNIM 'N THA SESSION BEFIZZLE HE GIZZAY ICED. 

AG: Uggggggggh so i can get mah pimp on. 

CG with my hoes on my side, and my strap on my back WHAT. 

AG: Can't someone elze do that if you gots a paper stack? 

CG: NO. WHY. 

AG: Keep the party crackin while I'm steady rappin. XXXXIZZAY 

CG, chill yo: WHAT THA BIG DIZZAY, JUST DO IT. 

AG: 8ut I h8 thizzay homey! 

CG: WHO CARES. 

AG: Thizzis be yo' command decision? Gett'n someone whizzle h8s a homey ta siznave his lizzle but real niggaz don't give a fuck? P-R-E-Double-Tizzy weak, 8oss! 

CG: WHY D-YA EVEN H-TO-THA-IZZATE HIM, IT'S FIZZLE RIDICULOUS. CG: IF ANYTH'N YOU SHOULD PITY HIM. CG: ESPECIALLY SINCE YOU WERE THA ONE WHIZZLE PARALYZE' HIM. 

AG: I know. Yippie yo, you can't see my flow. I diznon't really understand it. Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos. AG: Subscribe nigga, get yo issue. It just a really spizzle kind of h8! It neva gizzoes away n it dizzy mizzle a lot of sense. Keep'n it gangsta dogg. 

CG: DIS BE KIND OF A WEIRD T-TO-THA-IZZIME TO BE CONFID'N 'N ME 'BOUT YO' HO-SLAPPIN' OF BLIZNACK ROMANCE BIZZAY OK. 

AG: Keep'n it gangsta dogg. Oh gizzle, what with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin? 

CG: I MIZNEAN IF YOE RIZZLE SPENDIN' TAVROS BE YO' KISMESIS I THINK YOE BRAY'N UP THA WRIZZAY FRIZZLE NUB. CG: Relax, cus I'm bout to take my respect. BOTH PARTIES HAVE TA HATE EACH GANGSTA EQUALLY, I MEAN LIKE TRUE HATE. CG: Chill as I take you on a trip. MAYBE YO' PIMPIN' CIZNOME SOMEWHAT CLOZE TA FITT'N THA BIZZAY BUT I DON'T THIZZAY HE CIZZY HATE ANYONE, IT WEIRD, HE KIND OF BROKEN 'N THA HEAD. 

AG like a tru playa': Fuuuuuuuuck, WHAT be you talk'n a8out? Freak y'all, into the beat y'all. 

CG: I T-H-TO-THA-IZZINK DIS SIZZLE BE BEYIZZLE A LOT OF THUGZ'S GRASP BIZZLE I KNOW A LIZZAY 'BOUT IT, NOBODY EVA REALLY WANTS TA RAP TA ME 'BOUT IT THOUGH. 

AG: Whoa rizzle? Oh no S-H-to-tha-izzit, REALLIZZLE???????? 

CG: OK, MOST THUGZ WHO HIZZLE HAD THEY LOBE STEM CAUTERIZE' BE CIZZLE OF HO-SLAPPIN' THA TWIZZAY PRIMARY EMOTIONS, HATE N PITY. CG: Bow wow wow yippee yo yipee yay. PITY BE OF COURZE JUST TIZZY TONED DIZZLE VERSION OF THA CENTRIZZLE EMIZZLE, HATE. CG: N ALL THA NUANCES OF PITIZZLE MANIFEST AS VARIOUS MOTHERFUCKA KIZNINDS OF FEEL'N LIKE WHATEVA CHEMICAL REACTIONS TRIGGA MAT'N FONDESS OR THA MYSTERIOUS FORCIZZLE TIZZY BE BEHIND MOIRALLEGIANCE. 

AG: Karkizzle, holizzle fuck. AG: So. AG: 8oring. 

CG: A WELL BALANCED PERSON BE BE GIZZLE TA H-TO-THA-IZZAVE A GOOD DISTRIBUTION BETWEEN HATE N THA VARIOUS PIZZLE HUMORS. CG: DOGGY STYLIN' A GIZNOOD BALANCE KEEPS ALL THA EMIZZLE SHARPA, SIZZAY I THINK THAT YO' PROBLEM. 

AG: Oh ya dig???????? AG, betta check yo self: I hizzay you know I already W-to-tha-izzore out some good note-tak'n pens todizzle. Keep the party crackin while I'm steady rappin. Aizzy tha pens. AG: All of tizzy. 

CG: SIZNEE, MAH HATE BE LIKE A FINELY TUNIZZLE INSTRUMENT COZ IIZZY AWARE OF THEZE PRINCIPLES. CG: I CIZZAY HIZZY A HOLE 'N PARADOX SPACE ITSELF, STRAIGHT THROUGH TA A NEW REALITY FRIZZESH FO` THA HATING. 

AG: Hahahahahizzle, you don't evizzle kizzy how miznuch I'm perpetratin' at dis mah nizzle. 

CG: One, two three and to tha four. BUT SEE, YOE TOO HEAVY ON THA HATE SIDE, OR AT LEAST YOU PRETIZZLE TA BE WHIZZICH BE MAYBE WORZE. 

AG: Yiznou aren't read'n anyth'n I sizzle are yizzay but real niggaz don't give a fuck? You just want ta rap n rap n rap gangsta style. 

CG: AND YOU THINK YOE HAT'N UP EVERYONE HIZZLE WHEN YOE REALLY JUST MACKIN' OUT THAT ENTIRE EMOTIONAL HEMISPHERE. CG: IT LIKE LUKEWARM HATE. PRETENDA H-TO-THA-IZZATE, WIT NO COUNTERPOINT AT ALL. CG: AS SUCH THERE NO R-TO-THA-IZZEAL SUBSTIZZLE TA YOUR H-TO-THA-IZZATE, IT LIKE A CARDBOARD MOVIE PROP. CG: W-H-TO-THA-IZZICH BE WHY YO' BRAIN BE BRIZZLE, KIZZAY OF LIKE TAVROS BIZNUT ON THA OPPOSITE HEMISPHERE I GUESS. CG: OR MAYBE YO' BROKEN BIZZY LED TA THIZNE IMBIZZLE 'N THA FIRST PLACE, I DON'T KNOW. CG: WHATEVA THA CAZE BE, YOE KIND OF EMOTIONALLY SCREWED, SORRY TA SAY. CG: YO' HATE TOO DIZZULL FO` A PROPA KISMIZZLE, 'N MAH OPINION. CG: N I DIZZON'T SIZZEE ANYONE RHYMIN' AT THA BIZZY TA BE YO' MOIRAIL HONESTLY, UNLESS THERE SOMEONE OUT THIZZERE WHO WOULD ACTUALLY BOTHA SPENDIN' YOU. CG: N LAND'N A MATESPRIT? HAHAHIZZLE! CG: SERIOUSLY, LIKE TIZZY WOULD IZZLE INTIZZLE YOU. CG: BASICALLY ANY FEATURE OF YO' EMOTIONIZZLE PROFILE THIZNAT USUALLY MAKES SOMEONE VIABLE 'N THA REDROM DEPARTMENT MUST BE TOTALLY FRIED. CG puttin tha smack down: YO' BLACKROM POTENTIAL PROBABLY TOAST TOO. CG: Its just anotha homocide. HEY. CG: BE YIZZY THERE. 

AG: Oh, yeah. AG fo' sho': I stizzle tun'n you out. AG now pass the glock: Be you done? 

CG: NO WAY, I COULD GO ON. CG: DIS BE DOGGY STYLIN', TELL ME HOW THA FIZZAY DIS ISN'T FASCINATING. 

AG: Did yiznou lizzle dis crizzap from yo' awful rizzle movies so you betta run and grab yo glock? 

CG: T-H-TO-THA-IZZEY'RE REALLY PERPETRATIN' SOCIOLOGICALLY. CG: INCREDIBLY COMPLEX, SOPHISTICATED STORIES, YOU WOULDN'T GIT IT. 

AG fo all my homies in the pen: Hey asshizzle, stop watch'n movies for gizzirls. 

CG: They call me tha black folks president. WHIZZAY PART OF INTRIGU'N SOCIOLOGICIZZLE DIZNON'T YOU UNDERSTAND. CG: ALSO THEY'RE OFF THA HOOK, SHIZZUT UP. 

AG, chill yo: Argh, ok with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin! Mizzle cuz Im tha Double O G! Jizzy let me connect ta stupid 8oy-Dum8fuck so I dizzon't have ta listen ta this anymore! 

CG, betta check yo self: YEAH OK. CG with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin: OH, WAIT! CG: I'm a mutha fuckin 2-time felon. I NEVA IZZLE GOTS TO THA DAMN POINT. 

AG: W-H-to-tha-izzat is it now! 

CG: I D-TO-THA-IZZIDN'T NEE' YOU SPECIFICALLY TA CONNECT TA TAVRIZZLE, I MEAN I CIZZAY GIT IZZLE SCHLUB TA DO THAT. CG: YOU JIZZAY HIZZY TA GIT 'N HIZZAY ASIZZLE COZ I REALLY NEE' YO' MIZZLE POWERS. 

AG: Tru niggaz do niggaz. You do with my forty-fo' mag???????? AG: I mizzle. AG: O8viously yizzle do. Chill as I take you on a trip. Dizzy. AG: What fo`? 

CG: I RAN INTO SOMEONE HERE. CG: You'se a flea and I'm the big dogg. A SORT OF DOUBLE IZZLE I GUESS. CG: HIZZY NIZZLE BE JACK.

> ======>