#but seriously condense your thoughts motherfucker

[icypolargirl78]

i loooove going into a fandom tag to try and get some fresh opinions and some random fucking person is just spamming the tags. like every single thought they have about the fandom is a new fucking post. and then when i block them to try and see anyone else, the goddamn search engine is broken because of them. fucking great.

[fuck-customers]

Perfect example of why customer service is a pox on this world and why I hate my fucking job. Sorry this is so long, tried to condense as much as I could.

Guy comes to collect his food, points to the sauces with it and goes "That's it?" Ye. "I want another;" Okie dokie. Take it out to him, he looks pissed, "Seriously? That's all you're gonna give me just one?" We have a policy wherein if customers want extra sauce they have to pay like 10 cents. I explain this to him and say he can have this one extra sauce on the downlow or he can pay for as many as he wants. He sneers and walks away; interaction over right?

WRONG. He comes back later to ask for a takeaway container. I try to be really nice to customers who've been dicks just to make them feel stupid, so I know I did nothing to provoke this when responding by asking what size he'd like: small or large. This guy. This motherfucking guy decided to snark back with "I don't know why don't you be smart and show me the fucking containers?"

I go out back grab both sizes and in a pretty condescending tone go, "Here you go, small or large?"

"Are you serious, was it really that hard to do that? You could've done that the first time without the fucking attitude. Be smart next time."

"Haha k mate, what size container do you want?"

"You know what? I'm gonna go out there and find a manager, I'm gonna report you. You've got a real bad attitude, if you don't wanna be here don't fucking show up."

"Oh you want to report me to my ~manager~? I can call him for you right now! Do you want me to do that sir?"

"Yeah go on, fucking call them! They're gonna look on the cameras and see how you treated me." (He thought the cameras recorded audio, they do not, unfortunatly for me in this instance)

This whole time I haven't raised my voice once even tho he's yelling at me, I'm just keeping that overly saccharine sweet 'you're a moron and I'm patronising you' customer service voice and smile.

Ring my DM and he says he'll be over in five, I relay this to dickhead and he slinks back to the bar to wait.

I go out the back to cool off for 5 then head back out front and resume cleaning. Guess who storms back up to the register in the third part of this shitty trilogy.

"Oh so you're fucking cleaning now are you? Now that you know your manager is coming and you're on camera you're doing your job huh?" (I'm not even exaggerating the swearing, this dude dropped the F bomb almost every single sentence)

"Beg your pardon? I've been cleaning-"

"Yeah bullshit, you just want to look like you're actually working you lazy dog. I know what you're doing."

"Yeah keep talking to me like that and you're getting kicked out the front door!"

Managers showed up at that point and dude was being a dick to them too.

Cherry on top of this whole ordeal? His wife/mother/whoever the hell she was comes up and asks for a container while guy is off to her side arguing with DMs. Me being kinda a dick knowing he's listening/watching go back to default nice customer service attitude infront of him and repeat the same question: small or large? Intentionally neglecting to get the containers in a moment of pettiness. To her credit she did politely ask to see them but when I bring em out has the audacity to say: "See? If you had've just done that the first time he wouldn't have had to react like he did."

No. You. Did. Fucking. Not.

"Actually no, he was the one who decided to make a smart comment first."

"Well if you had've just brought the containers out to begin with-"

"And what stopped him from just asking politely instead of being smart about it?"

"You should've just brought the containers out, then he wouldn't have had to react the way he did."

"He didn't have to react the way he did regardless, he could've just asked me decently and there was no reason to swear at an name call me." At this point I said fuck this and walked off.

Apparently guy made remarks after this to DMs about what he'd 'do to me' if I did that to him again. So if this unhinged motherfucker comes back and reads my body language wrong I could be in shit apparently?? Okay psycho.

Trying to tell my managers to ban him but they're saying unfortunately he'd have to do more then that to be banned so it's off the table atm but they'll review it. They're semi-regulars too so this most likely won't be my last run in with this moron

This is very specific and if, for whatever snowflakes chance in hell, the people who this is about see it and realise this is them and I'm that employee: you're a bunch of dogs with no manners who should stay the fuck home. You've got issues that clearly need sorting out and if you're gonna flip over one fucking takeaway container then stay out of the public thanks.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[redorich]

Out of This World

Niki watches despairingly as her new roommate, one Mr. Wilbur Soot, once again pours water into his cereal. He seems to prefer it that way; Niki can’t help but wonder, not for the first time, whether her roommate is a literal alien from outer space, or just the weirdest motherfucker she’s ever met.

What kind of a last name is Soot, anyway? She thinks to herself unkindly. At least he doesn’t leave dirty clothes on the floor for her to clean up like her last roommate did. But seriously, Niki can’t tell if this man is a crackhead or not.

“Niki, can you pass the salt?” Wilbur says, breaking her out of her reverie. Without thinking, she plucks it from the lowest shelf of the tiny kitchen cabinet and hands it to him. She regrets it instantly when he begins to salt his cereal.

Breathing deeply so as not to grab him by his bony shoulders and shout, “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”, she flees the scene of the food crime. When Niki was in college, she was surrounded by people who asserted they had the world figured out. Atoms and gravity and wavelengths. But Niki knows that humanity is desperate to control the uncontrollable, define that which cannot be explained. Science, Niki knows, isn’t just throwing out what doesn’t fit, but rather taking all the data and asking the question, “Why?” So, she thinks, let’s consider the data. 

-------

Niki sneaks trepidatiously to the door to Wilbur’s bedroom. Who knows what sort of unholy, confusing mess he’s got in there, lurking in wait for its next unsuspecting victim. A pinch of guilt hits her. Yeah, Wilbur may be a lunatic, but an alien? Really? It’s a bit uncharitable of her to think such a thing. Shaking herself, she knocks on the door.

“Yes?” Wilbur’s voice carries from inside the room. “Come in.”

Steeling herself, she turns the doorknob with a sweaty palm and is faced with…

A bed. A desk with a computer on it. Two pairs of shoes lined neatly near the closet. Wilbur is taking off his headphones-- he was playing Minecraft. How… ordinary of him.

“Hi, Wilbur. Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted, uh, to see how you were settling in.”

Wilbur smiles his pretty smile. “Thank you. Quite unaccustomed am I to the comforts of-- apartments.”

What Yoda-ass kind of phrasing is that? Niki thinks. A figurine of the marshmallow man from Ghostbusters stares her down from its place on Wilbur’s desk. She meets its eyes warily.

“Oh! Noticed my Ghostbusters statuette, have you?” Wilbur says brightly. “I have more in my closet, if you should like to see them.”

Niki is filled with a sick sense of curiosity. Yes, she wants to see whatever insane thing Wilbur hides in his closet, but she also doesn’t. She idly wonders if Wilbur has ever read The Cask of Amontillado. She feels like he has. This is not comforting.

Wilbur doesn’t sense her hesitation. A small corner of her brain thinks it’s because he’s unfamiliar with human body language. Without pause, Wilbur opens the closet door, revealing…

Niki’s first thought is, where does he keep his clothes? Because the closet is filled with Ghostbusters paraphernalia. The entire. Fucking. Closet. It wasn’t even that great of a movie?? How much did Wilbur spend on this, anyway?

Her roommate misinterprets her blank uncomprehending stare as a marveling gaze. He puffs up proudly.

“Such a profound impact have these movies made! I am truly fortunate to have met a lass of such upstanding artistic caliber, that you should also enjoy the Ghostbusters franchise.”

“Thank you for showing me this,” she says slowly. “I need to-- water the dog. I mean, I left the stove on. At my friend’s house. Uh, see you later.”

She beats a hasty retreat, leaving her apartment for Eret’s place. Something whispers in the depths of her mind: Doesn’t one of the Ghostbusters movies have aliens in it?

-------

Orange is her favorite nail polish color. Eret paints the nails on her right hand in that soft warm shade of orange as he listens to her complain.

“Am I being irrational? Like, do you think I’m going too far?” 

Eret hums noncommittally, putting a little flamingo sticker on her index nail. “He does sound like an unusual person, but I don’t know if I would say he’s an alien.” 

Niki nods her head, since she can’t gesture with her hands. “Okay, yeah, sure-- but he puts salt in his cereal with water. He has a literal dragon’s hoard of memorabilia from shitty movies that came out like three decades ago. And his vibe is just...off. Like when I talk to him, he’s there, but his head’s drifting off somewhere in outer space. God, I’m the worst.”

Eret protests. “Hey, hey, you’re not the worst. Look. I don’t know why this dude is bugging you out so much, but you said he didn’t seem dangerous, right?”

Niki nods dejectedly.

“So, we can figure this out together,” Eret says with a flourish, screwing the top back onto the bottle of polish.

The tender moment is interrupted by Niki’s ringtone. It’s from Wilbur; speak of the devil and he shall appear. Gingerly, so as not to ruin the wet paint on her nails, she picks up the phone and puts it on speaker. “Hello?” she says, motioning for Eret to remain quiet.

“Ahoy, Niki! Wherefore are mine frog legs gone?”

“What?” Eret mouths at her. Niki doesn’t understand either.

“Sorry, Wilbur, what was that?”

“My frog legs,” comes the crackly timbre of a phone in an area with poor reception. “They are no longer in the refrigerator.”

Niki sputters. “Why did you have frog legs in the-- no, never mind. I don’t know what happened to your frog legs, Wilbur.”

The phone line repeats static to her for a moment as Wilbur pauses. “Interesting. Perhaps they walked away, as legs are so oft wont to do. Niki, would you mind dearly to purchase some more? And perhaps, be you willing, some condensed milk?”

Eret silently gags at the idea of frog legs and condensed milk together. Niki doesn’t blame him.

“Okay,” Niki says. 

Eret shakes his head at her, as though begging her not to torture herself like this. The moment Niki hangs up, the first words out of Eret’s mouth are, “That man is one hundred percent an alien. I am so sorry I ever doubted you.”

-------

With frog legs, condensed milk, and an Eret in tow, Niki enters her apartment the following morning with new-found assurance. The rest of the evening goes about as normal as it can, with Wilbur humming nursery rhymes and stirring a pot of, quite frankly, poison. Niki and Eret hide in the living room watching all the Ghibli movies until the only light left comes from the TV in front of them. The front door opens and the floors creak as Will enters. I thought he was in his room?

Eret seems to be on the same page as her. “I didn’t hear him leave,” he says, distant fear in his eyes.

Niki’s ears pick up a faint sound. “Shh!” she hisses. “He’s on the phone.”

Though the apartment is dark (the only light being the TV), Wilbur’s eyes glow like an animal caught on camera. Niki shivers. She only barely catches a glimpse before he ducks back into the entrance hallway, but what she sees unnerves her.

“Philza, calm down,” Wilbur says from the hallway as he takes off his shoes. “It is fine, she suspects not.” 

A pause. The other person on the line, Philza, is talking. 

Wilbur replies, “She was impressed with my Ghostbusters collection, you know-- Ghostbusters is a great movie, fuck off!”

Another pause. Wilbur sighs.

“Aye, I must admit you may have been right on that one. Pretending to be human is--”

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

Wilbur’s head peers around the hallway’s corner in a panic to see Niki and Eret. Niki is pointing her finger at Wilbur with pride on her face, and Eret looks as though he wants to be doing the same thing.

The two in the living room both flush a bit at the outburst, but Niki doggedly continues. “You’re an alien!”

Even though Wilbur’s phone isn’t on speaker, Niki and Eret hear Philza’s laughter from all the way across the room. Wilbur sputters and angrily hangs up the phone, before turning the corner to properly face the two humans. His eyes are actually glowing, it wasn’t a trick of the light, Eret observes. Of course, he also notes that Wilbur’s eyes are the size of dinner plates, and he looks about ready to jump out the window to run from them.

“I am… not an alien,” Wilbur says softly.

“Wh-- but you just said--” Eret says, then cuts himself off when Wilbur phases through the fucking floor.

“He’s a ghost,” Niki whispers, all the pieces clicking into place. Old English, weird taste in food, Ghostbusters are you kidding me. If Niki didn’t just watch her roommate evaporate, she’d be banging her head against a wall and asking her professors to revoke her degree.

Wilbur phases back up through the floor, much closer this time but still hesitant. He sits down a few feet away from the pair of humans nervously. He’s more afraid of us than we are of him, Niki thinks. Like the bears at the zoo.

“For many years, observed the living have I,” Wilbur begins slowly. “I wished to commune with them once again, as one of their own. My father-- Philza-- said unto me that I knew nothing of the modern era. I confess that he was right. Willst you cast me out of your home, knowing now of the spectre that I am?”

Niki tries and fails to suppress the amused quirk of her eyebrow. “How about this: Eret and I show you the ropes of being alive in the 21st century, and in return, you keep the frog legs on your side of the fridge?”

Wilbur smiles that pretty smile again. “Deal.”

-------

“Niki? What is an OnlyFans?”

FIN

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 :p

bitch move but let’s party, there’s exactly one (1) word that I know I use enough to easily find 40 sentences using it

“Owfuckshit gimme a minute, I’ll be right there!”

“Fucking N.E.X.T. Labs surveillance state,” Jessie mutters.

His words spill out of his mouth in a cloud of condensation like it’s deep winter and not the middle of summer, and his eyes go wider than you’ve ever seen them, a split second of delighted what the fuck wonder on your brother’s face before he locks it down, like he always does, so as not to scare you.

“Fuck yes,” she told him.

When she’d settled down again to a less active misery she said, “This isn’t going to make me fuck you.”

Jessie Chilton, that motherfucker…

Now you’ve gotten too cocky, shame the fuck on you for wanting one nice shiny thing for yourself.

“Are you seriously gonna steal a fucking pizza off me?”

If Tash got down on her hands and knees and followed the line of toppled dominos she would never find a single inciting incident; there were hundreds if not thousands of them and the whole arrangement would spell out fuck you, Tash over and over into infinity.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

What the fuck is the next would-be employer going to think when they see that the first chance you got at slightly better retail you decided to haul off and steal something?

Oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“What the fuck do you call this?”

You are twenty four and on top of the world, sinister in sequins, a force to be fucking reckoned with.

“They didn’t have time for me to be mentally fucking ill.”

When you are Jonas are driving away he asks you if it was worth it, and you tell him to fuck off.

“Hey, Jessie,” says your archenemy, who is standing in the hallway of the building where you live in the middle of the afternoon while you are caught unawares in a pair of fucking pajamas.

Bastard, bastard, bastard if he’d done it already knowing what was coming her way; how the hell could you fuck someone knowing their fate was sealed?

“Oh fuckchristshit, not him!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Maybe because you dumped my favorite car in a fucking lake.”

Who the fuck does she think she is, invoking your brother like he’s in charge of you? 

It disorients her immediately, and even when she remembers where she is and who she got there and whose fucking room this is, it hardly brings her any comfort.

You’re not so sure, a smoking crater might be a nice change of pace from the fuck-all you’ve been doing, but that’s not something one says in polite company so you shrug and agree.

Not here, not now, she refuses to die wearing nothing but her underwear and a borrowed t-shirt in Jessie fucking Chilton’s bed.

“Get the fuck out of my apartment,” you say.

She doesn’t have many thoughts about Mothwoman, except for the Mothwoman who exists in a very specific fanfiction series where she’s reimagined as a lesbian vampire who fucks like there’s no tomorrow.

You slam the window behind her, good fucking riddance, and seriously consider flinging yourself dramatically back into bed to take a two or five or ten hour depression nap about the humiliation of it all, but no.

“Well, I’m telling you to fuck off.”

“You took fucking public transit to rob an art museum?”

“What the fuck?”

It’s stupid, all stupid, and you’re angry at N.E.X.T. Labs for installing these judgey AIs in every ATM in town and at your bank account for drying up and at your brother for leaving you in a position to get patronized by a fucking robot.

“I think that your brother and Traceuse don’t fuck.”

“I don’t even care, I just really want to get fucked up and have a burger.”

Sure, it happened this month, several days late and with an apologetic note from Jonas that pointedly did not explain where he was or how he was acquiring fucking drachmas, but it’s time to face the facts and accept that your brother has become a bit unreliable.

“I was born in here because my mom’s a dumb bitch who didn’t want to stop hanging out at the bar even though she was nine months pregnant, so when labor hit her fast and fucking furious there wasn’t time to call an ambulance and Maud made her come in here where she wouldn’t disturb the other patrons and it would be easier to clean everything up on account of the drain in the floor.”

“What the fuck, I know you,” Jessie says, stopping short before she can steamroll right over the kid. 

 “Did you fucking change your last name to match your gimmick?”

“Cover your face, for fuck’s sake!”

In this case it’s the kid, the stupid fucking kid in his stupid fucking hoodie and glasses, who’s still running a few blocks on but doing a piss poor job of it.

[crowsent]

so i started watching kings avatar pt. 2: spoiler edition electric boogaloo

condensed reaction from all episodes but first things first:

i already waxed poetic about the characters and set design of kings avatar in my first post so ill get to the point here:

lowkey thought that the excellent eras logo was the flag of fucking canada for a hot second there i mean

fucking seriously????????????

but enough about discount canada look at this man

look at him

“im very mad” said with a smile

i fucking love him

..

i fucking hate episode 2 timestamp 7 minutes tho

not posting any pictures but

the spiders

so creepy

with the scuttle scuttle sound

ew

no

i know the game has good sound design but was realistic spider animation/sound really necessary???

..

someone who can gif please please please gif that moment where excellent era announces ye qius retirement please. like. the fancy weapon twirls, the fire, the snow, the leaves. that moment was so fucking beautiful

..

xiao tang is uhhhhh so cool?????? what the fuck???? beating players in a game she doesnt play purely off of hand speed and apm???? and then joining that same game to beat ye xiu someday?????? amazing. 10/10

..

i am gaining more understanding of this man as i watch this silly lil anime what the fuck

..

real talk tho

i want glory to be a real game

the mechanics are interesting, the class systems seem p balanced, and there are plenty of in-game systems to take advantage of

would be nice to actually physically play it tbh

..

“the greater the hope, the greater the disappointment”

..

lowkey tho why is steamed bun out here trying to guess everyones sign, trying to get everyone else to guess his sign, trying to attribute everything to signs... bro you aint in fucking homestuck. i see no fucking grey skin or orange horns on you. chill the fuck out and stop trying to astrologise everything

..

mucheng is precious. id kill for her. her devotion. her dedication.

..

i need the plantago seed duel as a separate video. it is immaculate.

the rolling camera pan, the fast strikes, the colours, the music

so good

..

who is this man

“the brawlers style, to put it nicely, is “free-willed”

honestly, its a complete mess”

what a legend

AND he figured out ye xius true identity just from playing one match w him. can i ask for more? i think not

..

..

thank you to the animators that made the ye xiu v jiexi look so goddamn good. the fury and panic that went into the animation of their fight, frantically clicking the keyboard, moving the mouse around, that fire effect where the floor cracks? godtier

amazing

..

lowkey why does steamed bun irl look like that????

..

“the brain is a useful thing, make sure to bring yours next time”

bruh just fucking murder the man why dont you

..

the man aint really subtle tho

..

“lord of analysis”

bruh

you got fucking exposed

“why dont your footsteps make any sound”

yo why is the character design so good???????

this is unfair

every character so far is unique and has good design

this is unfair

..

can the translators fucking

TRANSLATE

i cant read chinese

and there is no way on gods green earth am i going to call my father for every time the translators dont translate the text on screen bc then he might as well just watch the anime with me

its right fucking there man

translate this shit

..

so mr tactician over here said that the upper limit for unspecialised is lvl 95 but methinks that mr ye xiu is gonna find a way to overcome this

..

does

does GLORY have proximity chat or are these morons ‘shhh’ing each other bc they are THAT dedicated to roleplay

..

shaotian

shaotian shaotian shaotian

i love you

fucking chaotic chatterbox bastard

this motherfucker tripped on his goddamn feet and ye xiu IMMEDIATELY made fun of him

can you believe

i want what they have

i want that friendship motherfucker

amazing

“huang shao’s trash talk is magnificent”

and this fucker got everyone convinced he isnt huang shaotian purely bc of his ability to annoy other people and his dedication to keeping his identity a secret

can i ask for more?

i think not

look at this

i want their fucking friendship man

this motherfucker is fucking talking so goddamn fast

what the fuck

“who is chanting prayers?”

BOI you have no goddamn room to speak with this speech bubble wall youve made

“where did you find this clown?”

AND YE XIU CALLED YOU OUT BOI ye xiu straight said “what gave you the right to call someone else a clown” and he is CORRECT

..

okay i know for a hot second i keeep talking about shaotian but like

ye xiu easily slotted back into my favourites list bc this motherfucker is talking to the customers of the internet cafe WHILE HES PLAYING THE FUCKING GAME like

the big dick energy

yes he goddamn is boys and what the fuck are you gonna do about it? thats right. NOTHING. bc hes just that good at the game

..

MUCHENG CARRY

MUCHENG CARRY

MUCHENG CARRY

trap these motherfuckers girl

FUCKING CORNER THEM

CARRY CARRY CARRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

..

so

ye xiu really just ambushing the people who wanted to kill him by waiting outside the dungeons and then killing the players and then he even has the audacity to say “hi”

fucking big dick energy king right her folks

..

"as for that ghostblade,

shaotian with the fucking callouts

..

GET YOU A GUY BITCH

GET YOU A MAN WHO CAN BE THIS FUCKING CONSIDERATE

“mu mu”

mucheng carried and now ye xiu fucking protecting her identity

WE STAN

..

“every opponents weakness... i remember all of them”

my understanding of this man...

..

bro why the fuck does vice captain zhang eat so fucking SLOW

..

so vice captain zhang plays an mmo like a fucking game of chess i see

..

bruhhhhhhhhhhhh

the desert dust v one autumn leaf fight

bruhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

the skill

the mastery

the animation

the SONG

THE SONG

YALL THE FUCKING SONG THAT PLAYED DURING THE DUEL

..

[normal-thoughts-official]

See I think the problem is sweden is just.. cold amshnsdhdj we can’t really grow spices here so throughout the times it’s just been salt and pepper (until we started importing spice from the colonies like we thought we were the brits lmao) but traditional swedish food is like??? Potatoes and meatballs with lingonberry jam and sometimes you make the sauce out of the fat you fried the meatballs in and it’s gross. I’ve never been to Germany actually but that restaurant sounds disgusting I’m so sorry what are they doingggg. THANKFULLy we have so much food imported from pretty much everywhere that most people’s favourite foods is almost always something that didn’t originate here. Like tacos!! It’s a staple in pretty much any household here, at least where I grew up, and one of my friends is obsessed with Indian food, specifically vindaloo which is so so spicy but so good. As for the cream cheese sushi, at the restaurant here they put it in the maki rolls with veggies and a piece of omelet, i cannot stress how good it is ahaha. I love food so much!!! I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything Brazilian specifically, but since we’re talking about it I’m really curious. If you have a specific dish or anything you think I should try let me know!! I’m gonna ask google but it’s always fun to get tips from someone who is living with the culture behind it and everything!! - salmon anon (salmnon? salmanon? Swenson? I actually wrote swenon but my phone corrected me so I’m leaving it skhdkshd)

aaaa okay so when it comes to brazilian food you gotta understand that there’s...... so much stuff. our cuisine is super varied and rich and there’s just... a lot. so it all depends on what strikes your fancy. but i have a few suggestions, although keep in mind that again, brazilian cuisine is varied and rich and it’s a big country, so i have the mos contact with food from my region (the southeast), although i’ve been to the northeast, north, and south as well

so the basis of culinary in most brazilian households is the rice + beans + farofa combo. farofa is basically cassava flour with spices, it is made to add Big Crunch to the meal. we eat that in every meal, except for breakfast. it’s kinda the foundation/pillar of the plate. i do recommend trying it, absolutely. the most likely version of that for you to find is feijoada, which is a little stereotypical as far as brazilian dishes go, but i doubt you’d find regular rice beans and farofa around in a small town in sweden. in feijoada the beans come with pork parts, and it’s black beans, not regular beans. it is also traditionally served with kale and orange slices. it’s really good, personally i love it

[image ID: a plate with kale, rice, farofa (which is sandy-colored and has a grainy consistency), orange slices, and feijoada. end ID] 

another great dish worth a try is moqueca. moqueca is (usually) fish/shrimp, coconut milk, dendê oil, bell peppers, and other spices. it takes cilantro so if you are a little bitch, i mean, if you don’t like it, you might skip that one. it is also usually served with farofa or pirão, which is essentially farofa but moist 

[image ID: a pot of moqueca. it looks soup-like and has very vibrant colors, particularly red, yellow, ad green. you can see pieces of bell pepper and chopped cilantro in it. end ID]

i do recommend trying anything palm-heart related if you haven’t. palm heart pies are one of my favorite things. and okay i know that you probably won’t be able to find this but i doubt you’ll be able to find most things i’m talking about so i’m just gonna dream big here: catupiry is this kind of brazilian... cream cheese, except it’s creamier and tastier and just superior in general. we love putting it on shit, and when it comes to stuffing, palm heart + catupiry or chicken + catupiry are my favorites

i also love bobó de palmito na moranga, which is essentially palm heart inside very creamy squash. the most common version actually takes shrimp instead of palm heart, but i don’t like shrimp and they’re not super accessible in my city anyway lol

[image ID: a carved pumpkin with shrimp swimming in a creamy mixture of squash, coconut milk, and catupiry inside. end ID]

escondidinho is another great dish. it means “little hidden one” in portuguese and it is cassava puree with dried meat inside, gratinated. there’s also a version with mashed potatoes, ground beef, and tomato sauce, but cassava is better. honestly just go for anything cassava. it’s the basis of native brazilian culinary and it’s fucking delicious. fried cassava, roasted cassava, cassava puree.... if you’ve never had them, they’re like potatoes, but better in every way. and don’t get me wrong, cuz i love potatoes

anything from the state of minas gerais FUCKS and is highly recommendable. tutu de feijão might look bad for a gringo but i promise it’s worth a try. feijão tropeiro is amazing, and chicken with okra is one of my fave brazilian dishes. it’s also easy to make so you can make it at home, even. just don’t forego the rice beans and farofa. my eastern european friend had never seen okra so if you look it up, no, that is not pepper. it’s not spicy. seriously i know yall are afraid of everything but it’s not

as for snacks! one of the greatest institutions in brazil is coxinha. coxinha is a potato-based batter stuffed with chicken (and usually catupiry as well although coxinha without catupiry is also commonly found) and deep fried. you cannot have a kids party and not serve it, it is absolutely essential. but it is also eaten as a regular snack commonly. it is super good, everyone loves it, and i highly recommend

[image ID: a plate of coxinhas. they are round-ish thingies with a “beak” on top, making it look almost like a pyramid. they are orange-golden in color and have a distinctly deep fried texture. end ID]

another great institution is pão de queijo, which i’ll admit i’m not a fan of because i don’t like cheese (catupiry doesn’t count) but i can’t just forego mentioning it. it takes polvilho, which is tapioca (which is a derivation of cassava, i’ll get there in a minute) flour, with cheese, basically. it gets a fluffy consistency that is hard to describe and that many people love. it is most traditional in the state of minas gerais, but you can find it all over brazil and also in other places in south america although recipes vary

[image ID: a bowl of pão de queijo. they are small, round, and white-ish. they have a very thin hard-looking layer on the exterior, but it also has cracks that make you able to see that the inside is fluffy. end ID]

tapioca! you might have heard of tapioca as the bubbles in bubble tea are made of it. it is a kind of cassava flour, but it’s very different from the cassava flour used to make farofa. it is white in color. you just put that motherfucker in a frying pan (no oil needed) and the grains stick to each other, making a sort of... taco-like thing? it doesn’t taste like a taco but it looks slightly like one. then you just stuff it with Whatever You Want. can be savory or sweet, personally i prefer savory but the "classic” one is coconut and condensed milk. another good stuffing to try is what we call romeu e julieta (literally “romeo and juliet”), which is a cheese that we know as queijo minas, but if you have contact with mexican food you might know as queso fresco, and guava paste. i know it sounds weird which is why it has the name as these two things are not supposed to be together but they go WELL together. romeu e julieta is a common dessert and the basis for thousands and thousands of other recipes in brazil

[image ID: a plate with tapioca. it has the form of a taco, but the “batter” is thinner and white. the inside is coconut and condensed milk. end ID]

speaking of tapioca, DADINHO DE TAPIOCA (tapioca dice) is where shit’s at. it is tapioca flour with cheese rolled into a dice format and fried, served with pepper jam, altho you can forego it, but i DO recommend trying it with the pepper jam. it is not super spicy and so so very good. don’t waste an opportunity to try it

[image ID: dadinhos de tapioca. they are small cubic snacks with a golden color and granulated-looking texture. there is also a little bowl with pepper jam in it. end ID]

and an ESSENTIAL brazilian institution: pastel and caldo de cana. pastel is a flour-based batter with a bit of cachaça (sugarcane liquor) stuffed with Whatever You Want (most common tho are ground beef, and cheese. but personally i’m always a slut for palm heart and there’s a local pizza place near my home that also makes pastel with whatever flavor you could possibly want and broccoli with catupiry pastel? PEAK) and deep fried. it is kinda big for a snack but bro it is so very good. and then we usually have it with caldo de cana, which is sugarcane juice. now, caldo de cana is very sweet, so personally i like to put a little bit of lemon in it, which is how we usually make it in the state of São Paulo, but other states lowkey look down on that (brazilians as a whole have a sweet tooth, many of our desserts are Really Sweet) but they are wrong and we are right. anyway, pastel and caldo de cana are usually served at street markets, so once you are done with your groceries, you can sit down and enjoy some. highly recommended altho again i’ll be surprised if you can find any in sweden. but pastel is not hard to make! caldo de cana is tho, you have to have kind of a machine to extract the juice from it

[image ID: pastel and caldo de cana. pastel is a long, golden-colored, thin rectangle with, in this case, cheese inside. caldo de cana is of a brownish-green with a regular juice consistency. end ID]

onto desserts! an all-time brazilian favorite is brigadeiro. that is condensed milk, butter, and cocoa with chocolate sprinkles, essentially. i recommend using dark chocolate as it is otherwise really sweet but it depends on your tastes. do try it tho

[image ID: brigadeiros. they are little balls completely covered in chocolate sprinkles, each places in a smal paper holder. end ID]

romeu in julieta as i already mentioned is very popular and seriously, give it a try

if you’re into sweet stuff, try rapadura, which is our version of piloncillo. it is like 90% sugar tho so seriously, you gotta like sweets

pé de moleque, which literally translates to “boy’s foot”, is rapadura and roasted peanuts, and it’s one of my all time favorite desserts

[image ID: a plate of pé de moleque. they are thick rectangles with almost entire roasted peanuts parts stuck together by a rich brown sort of batter - rapadura. end ID]

paçoca is also grounded peanuts with a little bit of salt and sugar, usually coming in a cork format. they are absolutely amazing and i can’t recommend them enough

[image ID: paçoca. it literally just looks like a small cork, even the color is similar. looks like something totally underwhelming but i promise you it’s so so very good and worth a try. end ID]

and okay i think that’s what i have!! at least off the top of my head (yeah that’s just what i came up with off the top of my head. like i said. brazilian cuisine is RICH) sorry for the gigantic answer that is probably not very helpful, but welp, now you know what to look for, at least lol also if you’ve followed me for over a year you should have known i would do this. BITCH I’M LATINO FOOD MATTERS TO ME

[nyxocity]

please tell me more about spn sims

Soooo much to tell, but I’ll try condense lol

My neighborhood is a combination of Buffy & SPN Sims. I built the Winchesters house from scratch, and it’s got this backstory. It’s decorated in a very heavy 1970’s theme, the idea being that they bought someone’s old house pre-decorated, and it’s both very Winchesters and very anti-Winchesters depending on what room you’re in. 

I did, of course, make Sam and Dean to live in it, and sadly I did not make them brothers as I had it on good authority siblings can’t have romantic interactions (although I get flirt options with Buffy for Dawn all the time so idk). I didn’t even make them separate bedrooms because I had PLANS :D I set up a motel room divider and gave them separate beds in the beginning. I also made Castiel and Meg to round out the house.

Dean is a foodie who’s working on becoming a Master Chef and ripped like a motherfucker because I gave him the active trait to offset being a foodie. Sam is a genius Tech Guru who started out programming but now plays video games for a living. Meg is evil (in the game), enjoys implying people’s mother’s are llamas, and is working on becoming a bartender. Castiel does not work. He stays home and paints paintings and occasionally cries over them. The second painting Castiel ever did (his first “realism” painting), looked like this (center):

And I stared at the screen for a really long fucking time and wondered if the game KNEW what I was doing. Then I framed it and hung it on the wall in their house (note the Winchester-esque 1970’s wallpaper).

Dean and Sam fell in love quickly, started fucking, began sharing a bed and soon after got engaged. They couldn’t wait and didn’t want a real wedding anyway, so they got married in the kitchen (which is a very important place to Dean) while Meg was making bar drinks in her underwear in the next room, and then celebrated by fucking in the hot tub. Twice.

Meet Dean Winchester, male modeling motherfucker:

Most people in the neighborhood like Dean, though he and Meg did NOT get along at all in the beginning. He’s pretty charming and funny. EVERYONE loves Sam. Like absolutely EVERYONE. Even Meg loves him, and he’s got the “good” trait, while she has “evil”--which usually results in mortal enemies. One time I played a different house for a while (life goes on at your other Sims’ homes when you’re away), and when I came back, he was best friends with and had given a house key to one of the local celebrities (my fave celebrity in the game, to boot). He’s best friends with her and Buffy.

Meg and Cas did not hit it off the bat right away. For a while I thought they were going to fuck out of spite. They finally got it together, though. They remain unengaged as Castiel pursues his painting career and leads the quiet artist life, mostly lost in his own world. Seriously, I have to MAKE him go to the bathroom and shower and actually SLEEP instead of making coffee or taking a nap. He requires so much looking after. Castiel is becoming famous from selling his paintings and has begun to develop celebrity quirks. Right now he has a “refined palette” which means the quality of his meals must be “excellent” or else he gets very upset and suffers adverse physical effects--good thing he lives with an almost Master Chef.

Here’s Castiel with one of his masterpieces:

I shit you not. The quality of this painting was actually MASTERPIECE.

Also? Castiel won the fucking in game LOTTERY and made a million dollars.You know, the only one who ALREADY didn’t have a job.

They are ALL a bunch of fucking alcoholics. No lie. They get the slightest bit inspired and they’re running to the bar to make drink after drink after drink, and I can’t count the times I’ve had to REMOVE THE FUCKING BARS from the HOUSE because they would. NOT. STOP. That shit costs money, and they were pinging for $30 to $125 a drink. Basically, one of them will make a million drinks, the rest will wander in, grab one, and proceed to get drunk. One time they did all of this in Sam and Dean’s bedroom, and they were all sitting on or standing next to the bed getting drunk in various states of undress and flirting, and I swear to god it looked like the beginning of a porno. I was worried.

If I didn’t watch these people’s every move they’d all end up drunk, face down passed out on the floor in a puddle of their own piss.

Occasionally the game prompts me to have Sam and Dean try for a baby, and I’m like.. .. .. That’s not how this works. They DO have a big Bernese Mountain Dog which Dean named “Grace” after Grace Slick. I am thinking about adopting for them, but I have my hands so full with the four of them I’m not sure it’ll be soon lol I love them all dearly though, they’re definitely my fave house to play. I have tons of other stories (like Meg pissing off the gnomes on the equivalent of Thanksgiving and they rained down god-like wrath on the house), but that’s the basics.

I leave you with this:

[writethelifeyouwant]

You Got Iced - Chapter One

Pairing: Jared x Reader x Jensen

Rating: M, for language (future chapters will be explicit)

Summary: Inspired in part by the challenge prompt and in part by this convention https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAHS_RJ5Gac (which is fucking hilarious, go enjoy yourselves there). The reader is attending a Supernatural convention during a heat wave and gets her money’s worth out of her ticket that’s for sure. 

Word Count: 3556

Warnings: None for this chapter

A/N: Written for @babypieandwhiskey ‘s Hot as Hell challenge. This is only chapter one of an undetermined number. If anyone else wants to be tagged in the rest of the chapters shoot me an ask! I’ll be posting them over the next couple weeks as I finish them. I’m in the process of moving to a different country so it’s taking me a little longer to write than I’d hoped :) (Also I’ve only been to cons in my dreams so sorry if things aren’t totally realistic in that respect).

The convention hall, also known as the shabby ballroom of the Hilton on Main, was clouded in an ungodly, sticky heat that had descended, seemingly from nowhere, the previous night. Even the oppressive heat hadn’t dampened the palpable excitement of the hundreds of people that were crowding into each other’s personal space, waiting for the boys. A dance, so identical it was practically choreographed, spread throughout the audience as the minutes slipped by. People’s heads nodded up and down as they checked the clocks on their phones and then checked the stage again, finding it still empty. 

Then a shocking scream erupted from a corner of the room where a ripple of the curtain had announced the imminent arrival of Rob and his band of merry men. Shouts rang out as the band populated the stage and without introduction, cranked out discordant rock chords. 

“How you all doing today?” Rob shouted into the microphone and answering hollers echoed back. “No one melted yet?” 

An answering “No!” came back from the crowd. 

“Alright well let’s get this show on the road before that happens!” 

Cheers erupted as the music started, Rob introducing himself, Michael, Billy and Stephen, and Rich who had popped up from behind the curtain in the meantime. 

“So hey,” Rich had grabbed his own microphone, “I saw a couple guys lurking backstage, I think you guys might know them, those two really tall motherfuckers that are on TV all the time?” The shrieks that flew out of the crowd must have made the band glad they had earplugs in. “I’m gonna assume that means you guys want them up here too?” Rich prodded with a smirk. More screams. “Yeah I thought so, everyone give it up for Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles!” 

The boys, somehow dressed in flannels despite the god awful heat, jogged out on stage, waving and smiling and lapping up the outcry from the nearly hysterical audience members. Picking up the microphones that were waiting for them on the chairs in the centre of the stage, they settled themselves in, Jared flipping his chair around and earning some extra swooning screams because he somehow managed to make that simple movement incredibly seductive. 

To be honest, you were glad you had a railing to lean against as you watched them. Terrified excitement gripped your chest as you stared up at them enjoying the turmoil they had engendered, and you felt sweat pooling at the base of your spine that had nothing to do with the sweltering humidity you’d been standing in all morning. You were in one of the two lines of incredibly lucky humans stood near the front of the room, with your question scribbled on a piece of paper in case you totally lost your mind when it was your turn to talk to them. 

Just as the noise finally began to die down Jensen grinned into the mic and said, “Hi guys,” pulling a whole new wave of cheers from everyone. 

“How are you guys doing?” Jared asked, nodding along to the answers of “great, amazing, good, boiling” that were making their way back to him. They both laughed. “Yeah, it is pretty hot in here isn’t it?”

“Sorry guys, that’s my fault,” Jensen smirked, and Jared shot him a teasing look and fanned himself wildly. 

“Seriously, is this normal for here, did we just totally miss a memo?” Jared asked. The crowd shouted that this was completely not normal, it was some sort of sign of the apocalypse, curse from God, that sort of thing. “Oh good, so we’re not total morons,” he nodded, shaking the front of his shirt to encourage some airflow. 

“You know what might help, man?” Jensen asked. 

“What?” Jared’s face told the crowd that he genuinely didn’t know where Jensen was going with that question. 

“If you took the fucking beanie off.” 

Laughter rang out followed by hollers of encouragement as Jared shook his head but pulled off the wool knit cap, shaking out his hair and pushing it back out of his eyes. 

“Yeah okay, the hat was a stupid move today,” Jared admitted, tossing it casually straight into Jensen’s face. “Do you guys like not know what air conditioning is or…” laughs rippled through the audience and a garbled shout you couldn’t make out made its way towards the stage. 

“What was that?” Jensen asked, leaning forward as if that was gonna make it easier to hear. You heard the words repeated but you still couldn’t understand them. 

“Bring back strip question?” Jared clarified. The boys chuckled as answering shrieks reached a heightened level of hysteria. 

“Honestly, I don’t think we’re gonna need the prompting this time, the layers are just gonna start melting off eventually,” Jensen laughed. 

“No but, on a slightly more serious note,” Jared interrupted, “Thank y’all so much for being here. We love you guys and we really appreciate it but it is hot in here so, take care of yourselves, drink water if you have some. If you have to get up and go cool off or get a drink, please, please do, don’t feel bad. We don’t want anyone collapsing out there.” 

Jared’s thoughtfulness really touched something in you. He was so unendingly sweet it just showed how much he really felt everyone there was his family. You felt like you mattered and that spread warmth through your limbs that was altogether separate from the heat of the room. Lost in your thoughts briefly after Jared’s PSA you noticed that they had started to take questions from the line, and you shook yourself out in time to hear a small girl’s trembling voice ask, “What was the hardest thing you ever had to do for the show? A stunt or something emotionally difficult or scary to film?”

The panel trickled by, and you tried to absorb every second of it. The minute expressions that Jared and Jensen shared, the laughs they broke from each other, the looks of adoration on every fan’s face, the feeling of gratefulness that swelled in your chest at being anywhere near these two and surrounded by such an incredible amount of happiness. The heat was the constant companion of everyone in the room, and Jared and Jensen were frequently leaving their chairs to make trips to the jugs of iced water that had been set up by the band. 

As you neared the front of the question line, Jensen got up for another water break while Jared finished answering a question about the mechanics of one of his favourite shots from last season when he was suddenly interrupted by a growl from Jensen. 

“Son of a bitch!” Even without the microphone he was incredibly audible, especially since you were very close to them at this point. 

Jared turned around, confused and amused, trying to figure out what the hell Jensen was doing. It quickly became apparent as Jensen pulled from a jug of ice a slim white bottle, shaking the condensation off of it. Jared burst out laughing, clapping his hands together and pointing in mocking. 

Walking back to his mic, Jensen twisted the cap off the bottle. “Did you do this, man?” Jensen accused Jared. 

“No, I swear,” Jared choked out still laughing. Jensen rounded on the band and Rob and Rich just shrugged, with unapologetic smirks on their faces. “Hey man, at least it’s cold,” Jared offered. 

“Ugh I hate these things,” Jensen complained, but he sank to one knee to raucous applause and tipped the Smirnoff Ice back, downing it in an impressively short time. Rob and Rich grinned at each other and shared a surreptitious low-five behind Rob’s back. You were right next to their side of the stage now and they heard you laugh at them. Turning they gave you a thumbs up and Rich looked around, leaned in to whisper something to Rob, then pulled back with a pretty evil smile. 

On the other side of the stage, Jared and Jensen had returned to answering questions and you tried to pay attention to the anecdote they were sharing but you kept getting distracted and glancing back at the band, because you could feel Rob’s eyes on you. Looking around you realised that Rich had ducked behind the curtain and now he was rounding the corner of the stage on the audience level, sneaking along bent over so his head wouldn’t be seen over the side of the stage. He was coming right at you. 

He stopped to check something with the volunteer that stood at your side of the stage, then continued to creep back towards you. You stood there in stunned silence as he approached with a wide, conniving smile and whispered an introduction. 

“Hi there, I’m Rich.” 

“H-hi,” you gulped, completely stunned that you were standing so close to an actual Supernatural actor. 

“So, you’re gonna have the last question,” Rich cut straight to the point, keeping his voice down so he didn’t disturb the proceedings around him. You nearly choked on your breath. 

“That, that means,” you struggled to compute for a second. “I go up there?” You pointed up to the stage where Jared and Jensen were sitting, laughing, looking like giant gods. 

“Yup,” Rich popped the ‘p’ on the end of the word. “That okay with you?” You could only manage to nod. “Okay, so, we play the little jingle, the volunteer will walk you up, we’ll have a chair there with a mic, all good?” Again, you only nodded, clutching your question in your hand, eternally grateful that you had thought to write it down, and hoping the sweat pooling in your hands didn’t smudge the writing. 

“One more thing,” Rich ducked his body behind yours and brought his face close enough to full-on whisper. “That dress have pockets?” Completely confused by his question you squeak out an answer. 

“Yeah, why?” You felt something cold at your elbow and you looked down. Rich was sneaking you another Smirnoff Ice, indicating with his head that you should put it in your pocket. 

“Think you can give that to Jared for us?” 

“Oh,” you breathed out, understanding now. “Yeah, sure,” you giggled. 

“Thanks kiddo,” Rich clapped his hands on your shoulders and squeezed before darting forward and launching himself back onto the stage so he could situate himself with the band. 

After an exchange of looks from Jared and Jensen and back to Rob the music kicked in and you were ushered forwards by the volunteer Rich had spoken to a moment ago. 

There were no real words to describe what it was like to stand right in front of Jared and Jensen. You felt like your heart had stopped and like it was beating a million times a minute at the same time. Up on the stage with lights beaming down it was even hotter than it had been in the audience, and when Jared and Jensen each placed a hand on your upper arms and guided you towards your chair and mic, it felt like their hands were burning into your skin. You almost hoped you had scars a la Dean’s from Castiel. 

As you sat down, the faint buzzing that had stuffed your ears started to dissipate and you realised that Jared was talking to you. 

“I’m sorry, can you say that again?” You were so embarrassed that they were affecting you like this but Jared just smiled gently, practically radiating a safe, warm encouragement. 

“What’s your name darlin’,” Jared asked again. 

“Oh, uh, Y/N,” your name came back to you, finally. 

“And Y/N,” Jensen asked now, “what is your question?”

“Okay, um, so my question is for both of you and I’d like to extend it to Rob and Rich too if that’s okay?” You glanced around at everyone’s faces and all four seemed to be nodding their heads that that would be okay. When you looked over at the band you caught Rich’s eye and he quirked a brow at you, a small reminder of your other purpose on the stage. Clearing your throat you pulled out the your question but kept your other hand in your pocket with the cold bottle. 

“But, before I ask it, I’ve been asked to give something to Jared by a friend.” 

“Oh cool, what is it!” Excitement took over Jared’s face like a puppy dog who heard the word ‘treat’. That joy was quickly doused when he saw what you pulled out of your pocket. “Oh, God,” Jared pulled a hand over his face, scrubbing at his cheek adorably in annoyance. 

“Sorry,” you did feel a little guilty, but mostly it was funny. 

“Which one of those douches was it,” Jared pointed accusingly at Rob and Rich. 

“You’re welcome!” They shouted in unison, giving Jared a big thumbs up. 

“You suck,” Jared shouted, but good-naturedly sank to one knee, upending the Smirnoff Ice and draining it as quickly as possible. What made you absolutely lose your breath, and nearly your mind, is that when he dropped to his knee he used you as his brace. His long fingers wrapped almost all the way around your knee, and he squeezed gently, almost teasingly, as he gulped down the icy drink. You couldn’t take your eyes off the way his neck was pulsing as he swallowed, and a small drop of sweat was running achingly slowly down past where you knew you could find his pulse if you just reached out your fingers and touched. 

When he finished, he exhaled on an over-exaggerated ‘ahh’ and his eyes locked straight with yours. He maintained eye contact, his hazel irises twinkling in the bright lights beating down on the stage, and he rose slowly back to his feet, giving your knee one last squeeze before reaching out for his microphone again. 

“Now, Y/N, since we’ve got that out of the way,” Jared flared back at Rob and Rich, “what is your question?” 

The rest of your time on stage was an absolute blur. Jensen answered your question first, quickly followed by Rich. Jared and Rob took a few seconds each to consider before offering their best answer and then before you could process what was happening Jensen was pulling you to your feet and wrapping you in a burning hug. Jared came around the other side and stretched his arms around both you and Jensen, briefly trapping you there between them. Then all the sudden you felt a rush of air as they pulled back and you were being ushered off to the side by a volunteer. 

Your eyes took a moment to adjust back to the lack of blazing spotlights, so you kept following the volunteer without giving much thought to where she was leading you. It was a shock when you found yourself being pushed through a gap between a curtain and the wall, moving back behind the stage. A little holding area was filled with everyone who had just been on stage, and a volunteer passing around water bottles.

“Why am I back here?” You whisper shrieked at the volunteer. She laughed at you. 

“You want to take a picture with the guys?”

“Oh wow, you’re not serious,” you panicked, smoothing out your hair and patting over your face, hoping your makeup hadn’t sweated off too much.  

“You’ll be fine,” she laughed again, good-naturedly though. She must be used to dealing with fangirling freaks, you thought to yourself. 

“Hi Y/N,” Jensen called when you were just about level with the group. 

“Ready for your close-up?” Jared asked, waggling his eyebrows at you. 

“Um, yeah I guess,” you gulped, trying to organise your thoughts as you followed Jared and Jensen over to where a camera tripod was set up against another wall. You were walking between them, the bare skin of your arms brushing against their hands, because they were that much taller than you. “It is so nice to meet you guys, seriously, I just want to say thank you for being like, amazing and wonderful. You’ve made such an amazing family,” you stop talking and try to rein yourself in, knowing you can’t guarantee you won’t say something monumentally embarrassing very soon. 

“Well, you guys are all pretty amazing too,” Jared smiled, clapping a hand on your shoulder and giving it a comforting squeeze, clearly sensing you could do with a little calming down, not that having him touch you actually accomplished that. Your heart felt like it was trying to jump out through your throat. 

“So, where do you want us?” Jensen smiled warmly at you, but there was something else peeking out from behind his bright green eyes. Mischief, maybe. 

“Oh god, I don’t even know,” you tried not to giggle hysterically, which was your usual defence mechanism when you got nervous. 

“It’s okay, just come over here,” Jared pushed you forwards slightly towards Jensen. They stood together, arms slung around the shoulders that were touching and pulled you in front of them. Stumbling a little, like a total idiot you berated yourself internally, you fell back against them. Assuming they’d want a little more space, you started to take a step forward but then you felt solid warmth pressing against your back. Jared and Jensen had both pulled you closer into them and they were pressing you back into their bodies. You felt more than heard a chuckle roll through Jensen’s body, and he slung his left arm around your body, settling his hand against your right shoulder. Jared mirrored him, crossing his arm over Jensen’s to hug you tighter to both of them. 

“Okay, say ‘bacon’!” The photographer snapped a few photos of you all absolutely laughing your asses off, because who says ‘bacon’ when they take a photo? But as the laughter settled you felt a sense of incandescent calm spread through you. Jared and Jensen were still pressing you against them, and the laughter had broken the tension you’d been holding in your limbs, allowing you to settle into them without so many nerves. 

When the photographer indicated that he was done the boys released you and each other, Jared ruffling his hair mostly to give his hands something to do. You felt more relaxed now, and a little more confident that you weren’t going to start babbling nonsense so you took a chance to ask for a favour. 

“I’m gonna ask since I’m here and I know I’ll kill myself later if I don’t… Do you think it would be okay if I got a photo with the band?” 

“Oh, sure, yeah,” Jensen said, obviously having expected something much more out of left field. He waved over to the guys still milling around in the holding area. “Hey, Rob, get your guys over here!” 

When they were in better earshot Jared pointed his thumb at you and said, “Your new minion wants a picture.” His voice was scathing but hid his amusement pretty poorly considering he was an actor. The band plus Rich all crowded around you for a photo, going for a giant group hug approach and pulling loads of stupid faces, helping you chill out even more. 

As they released you from the crush you turned back to Jared. “Sorry, again, about that,” you said, referring to passing on Rich’s prank before, and blushing a little. 

“Yeah, bullshit,” Jared laughed, his eyes crinkling and fuck, why was that so sexy.  

“Well did you want to give her this for your revenge Jared or…” Jensen let his thought trail off, swinging a cloudy white bottle by the neck between his thumb and a finger. 

“Jay, we cannot Ice a fan,” Jared laughed exasperatedly. 

“Sure we can,” Rob grabbed the drink from Jensen and tossed it at you. You screamed a little but by some miracle you caught it clumsily, clutching it to your chest to keep it from smashing to the ground. 

“Y/N you really don’t have to drink that,” Jared insisted, trying to protect you from his ridiculous friends. 

“No it’s okay, fair’s fair” you laughed, twisting off the cap of the cold drink, confused as to how this was your life right now. You brought the bottle to your lips, taking a moment to shoot Jared a reassuring smile because he was still looking worriedly at you. Before you managed to actually drink any of it though you heard Jensen clear his throat, and he looked pointedly from you, to the ground at your feet. 

“You forgetting something?” Jensen grinned as he watched you, arms crossed over his chest. Of course, you thought, you were supposed to take a knee when you downed it. 

“Someone’s bossy,” you chided, but you let yourself fall, landing on both your knees instead of just one like the challenge technically called for. Glancing up at Jensen for permission to down your drink now you saw him exchange a fleeting look with Jared. For just a moment, something had cracked through their smiling exteriors. It was dark; hungry. The change had been infinitesimal and before you could swear it had been there to begin with, their warm, encouraging smiles were back. You tipped the bottle back, keeping your eyes locked with Jensen’s the whole time, like Jared had done with you earlier on the stage.

[ct4cd]

Being born in the late 80s or very early 90s is kind of strange, culturally, because you've spent your whole life watching the popular conception of "the past," "the present" and even "the future" barely change. If you want to know what I mean, think about the 80s. By the mid-90s, we'd already kind of adopted the 80s as part of the conception of "nostalgia." It was only the previous decade, but the 80s were so immediately, clearly defined as an aesthetic in every area of culture that they kind of became an abstract ideal the moment they ended. The 90s were also a clearly-defined era (although the early 90s and the late 90s are two very different beasts even here), but 80s-ness is a strange thing. It suffuses every memory of its entire span. There are plenty of events that happened in the 1970s that I can think of without immediately pairing it with bellbottoms, mirrorballs, LSD, Led Zeppelin, et cetera. But if I think about something that happened in the 80s, it's aggressively assaulting me with its 80s-ance. Imagine going to a party where the theme is a decade. Which decade do you assume? Yeah, exactly. The 80s is so crystallized in the culture that when you think of the mere concept of packaging up a decade of pop culture, your framework for how that works is defined almost entirely by how the 80s has been enshrined. So when we did hit the 20-year crest, around the mid 00s, it hit HAAAAAARD. Of course 80s nostalgia was so vast that it's actually one of the things you think of when you think of THAT decade. Why wouldn't it be? We had been preparing for it since about 1995. Then, sometime around 2013, the first drips of the 20-year-cycle hitting the 90s began to become evident. I'd actually peg the Scott Pilgrim movie as the very first moment of 90s nostalgia, since a lot of the video games referenced were technically products of the very late 80s but that era does tend to blur a bit. But. ...we still also have 80s nostalgia. Stranger Things is just one example. Look at the things we're remaking. Ghostbusters? A new IT film, shifted into the 80s to fit our current idea of childhood? Outside of a bizarre preponderance of 90s sitcom revivals (which is mostly a factor of that generation of actors not being depressingly old yet), we still tap into the 80s more than the 90s. In TWENTY-SEVENTEEN, a year when 90s nostalgia should logically be waning, not ramping up. In three years, going 20 years into the past will take you to 2000! Which is why it's interesting to have been a child in the early 90s. Because when you were first becoming a consumer of culture, the past was the 80s. And then, several years later, this only became more true. And now it still is. More importantly, there are plenty of ways in which the 90s is still the present. The Sapir-Whorf hypothesis in an idea in linguistics that the way we use language helps shape the way we perceive the things we're talking about. The converse of this is deeply interrelated and also less controversial (the idea that the circumstances of a culture shape their language), whereas Sapir-Whorf itself is often derided, and completely fairly, as being myopic and often a tool to pigeon-hole certain ethnicities into differing from others in ways that can be used to dismiss them intellectually. But I do find one thing interesting: what do you call the years between 2000 and 2010? Or the years between 2010 and 2020? They don't really have good names. The Oughts and the Teens just aren't catchy. "The 2000s" is stupidly broad and "the 2010s," its natural companion, is less confusing but still clunky. Picture what the 80s were like in your mind. Yes, a totally inaccurate, condensed, cartoon version. Not even what you would see in a one-scene flashback in a cheesy sitcom, but what you might see in a parody of one. Now, do the same with the 90s. You can pretty easily come up with something. Now try the 2000s. Don't bother with the 10s, obviously, because we have no abstraction of that yet. For all we know, something will happen in 2018 that people forever will associate with the whole decade, like the brief peak of disco infects the whole 70s. But seriously, try to picture the 2000s. You very well might be able to. Hell, I watched Ginger Snaps the other day (released in 2000) and thought God, I would have known exactly when this was made even if I hadn't seen the year listed. But there's not really a Rubik's Cube, a Flock of Seagulls haircut, a Miami Vice suit. There aren't the kind of Platonic icons you get with the 80s, the 70s, the 60s, the 50s, or even the 90s. And if you think it's an issue of proximity, remember what 1987 looked like from 1993. It's really, really not. What were young people like in the 90s? Bitterly sarcastic? Obsessed with technology? Too cool for everything? Hard to sell things to? (If you think that's a millennial thing, look up the origins of the term Generation X.) Listen to an alternative rock station. It's still 1996, just a shittier copy of it. You think EDM being a major force is a new thing? 1998 would like to have a word with you about house music being pop radio. Hiphop is still divided HARD into warring factions, and its detractors still project their idea of its dominance over every other genre onto a reality that does not reflect it (hello Jewel, I mean Taylor). LGBT rights are still yet another generation's civil rights movement. We're in transition from a young, charismatic centrist Democrat to a Republican who got shoehorned in by the electoral college despite being known worldwide as the dumbest motherfucker we've ever seen. Today is still 1998 and yesterday is still 1985. No wonder anybody born after Back to the Future doesn't feel like an adult. To grow up, time has to pass.

[geminimdma-blog]

That one time @CrushAZ2k16

TLDR; Attended a rave on three tabs of a research chemical that had some crazy effects compared to real Lsd. The adderall accelerated the comeup, and the molly caused me to feel a lot more vibes and energy than I knew even existed. I ended up being escorted to an ambulance where, as jumpman was played through the radio, I was tranquilized and strapped down, thus removing me from the rave and into a hospital. During the hospital encounter I had some awesome hallucinations that were quite honestly life-changing but when I woke up I was very angry that I wasn’t at a rave. The end.

For starts, I was an 18 yo male at the time with a bit of experience with psychedelics. A year before this I had my first roll at a rave and a few other rolls that followed as well. Mdma is my fav. Lsd however showed me some darker corners of my imagination that I don’t necessarily like seeing. Fuck research chemicals btw. Those dumb things cause me to loose my shit apparently. The first trip I ever had wasn’t too long after my first roll in the spring of 2015. Mind you, it was also a few weeks after suffering from a severe fracture to the skull playing a bit of smash-mouth Rugby. Fuckn luv that sport m8.

Anyhow, later that fall I had made quite the connection to some really pure mdma and lsd as well, so I was able to have some much better suited experiences at some dope concerts I attended.(That pure lsd hookup eventually moved, so I had to resort to some dumbass highschooler selling some other shit he had no idea about)

Btw I love Edm. #mellogang

So skipping to the day of my “crushing” experience I had been anticipating this night for a long time. Seeing that it was the middle of february and I hadn't been raving since NYE i was really excited to get back into another event. Quite frankly after my previous psychedelic encounters I was ready to see some shit. At the time I felt like I was only scratching the surface of this unforscene world that is my imagination. Boy lemme tell ya, this trip was quite the wake-up call to what the mind really has to offer us.

Getting to the come-up I pre gamed a bit with some homies playing some casual BP and having a couple brews. (Mabey alcohol isn't a good mix with this stuff? Haha fuck it!)

During the car-ride to the event we all popd the mollys. It was supposed to be synchronized but my tabs had been in my mouth for an hour at that point. I was ready to get this candyflip started and my dudes were taking forever.

(All three inserted at once, yes they were bitter, but I ain’t no quitter [This may or may not have fucked me over])

By the time we were close enough to the event my group and I attempted the synchronized pop for the mollys(not that it mattered) and I ofc dropped it early and fucked it up for them haha

Getting into the parking lot we decided to elect someone as the group banana. We had a banana suit, yes, and naturally I was best suited to be the banana. I wore that shit like a champ.

Getting into line, I realized I forgot my drawstring bag, this could be considered the point I start to loose my shit. I had to make two separate trips back and forth to our car because apparently I didn't have all my shit together. First it was the whole bag, then it was the entry ticket.

I finally get into the event and that's when the effects start to kick in. The adderall had also been taken around the same time as the 100mg of mdma so my body was having a wonderful time trying to process the multitude of psychoactives that were all still in their come-up. Walking through the grass lawn trying to get to the stage I started feeling a really heavy burden in my stomach. As if my body wasn’t ready for the load it was carrying i kept bending over into trash-cans that I saw and couldn’t stop feeling like I was gonna throw it all up. Never threw up, and fortunately enough that vibe didn’t last and my crew brought me inside to the main stage where the rave was taking place.

Genius crew btw, they take a motherfucker dressed up as a banana about to trip balls straight into the middle of the goddamn crowd of this big ass rave. and what do ya know, my shit starts kicking in with the power of a freight train driving through a nitroglycerin plant. (If you get that reference I LOVE YOU) Think of this part as a very accelerated come-up for the mdma and RC’s together, the candy-flip was definitely happening. I was dancing, moshing, having a fuckn blast. Tripping the fuck out i was also waving my arms into other people's space tagging them without knowing, I really felt bad about that after I realized what I was doing.

This was the fun part, we start moshing and dancing, headbanging our brains into eternity and really feeling the music. Also the effects definitely started to kick in for me at a much faster rate than anticipated. My body temperature was definitely rising and I was seriously exhausting myself quite quickly. Hydration was also an issue.. Never go to a rave without a camelback. That is fucking rave law. You will fuck yourself over sooooo hard if you don’t stay hydrated throughout a roll or any other experience that requires energy for you to continue going.

Looking around I was seeing layers of the atmosphere as if there were different phases of existence I could walk through. If thought patterns and vibrations are actually real, I was able to see those strange lines and geoglyphs crystal clear. At that point my senses were in a tangle, especially since the mdma was sluggishly making things almost too fun to handle. The roll had been engaged at this point too.

I was looking at the animations and stage-craft at one point and I kid you not, it was literally growing, not like a slow poke flower or anything. I seriously saw the stage expanding and as the music progressively got more intense, at the same rhythm of the songs that were being played. That stage was becoming a fucking entity, and my hallucinogenic-state-of-mind was telling me that it was a “vibe-war”.  As if to say the totems, props hanging from the ceiling, and everything else there was vibrating off of each other and exchanging energy. And I was witnessing that exchange between EVERYTHING. Now this is where I lose my shit, I was dancing really really fucking hard and I eventually danced my pants off. Literally. There was a moment where my shorts that I was wearing were around my ankles and I had a complete boner expanding through the compressions I was wearing. If there was one banana that didn’t give a fuck, it was definitely yours truly.

I got to see fucking sound. Sound has got to be the most beautiful thing in existence, because not only are you automatically able to hear it as a human, but seeing the movement of music as it traveled amongst the headliners of a crowd of ravers had to be one of the most beautiful experiences of my life. Imagine it as a wave from the ocean, except that wave is colorful, fluid, and transparent. Sound was going through everything. It was bouncing from head to head, totem to totem, body to body, wall to wall. The sounds of this rave became the rave, and my mind was only able to grasp it as it was. It was fucking beautiful lemme tell ya. That my friends, is sound.

The vibration and drum of the bass and electronic fuzz’s, wuzz’s, and wips and snares were really having their way with me. My mind reached a point where it just couldn’t keep up with everything. Trying to fathom the rave and looking at totems that I could relate to(especially one with stewie from family guy trying to sell his shirt for a grilled cheese)[That was a beautiful totem btw] was really becoming a struggle. I literally started to get bored with reality. My mind was starting its journey into a deeper and darker corner of existence. Things started to get fuzzy. My imagination was urging me to let it become reality, and what do ya know, I gave into the experience. I sort of stopped giving a fuck about what was happening in the outside world and went onto this expedition of my soul. And that was only the beginning. I decided at one point to remove the banana suit, that could essentially be considered my game over in a sense, however I would have just put it back on if it wasn’t such a heavy trip. Removing that banana suit for me was a figurative gesture of my trip, as if to remove the condom to my soul allowing my energy to just splooge into the entire environment. No I was not a bomb, but for a minute during my trip I definitely thought my energy was condensed beneath that suit and when I removed it ya may as well consider it a splooge. Weird, but non-existent. It literally had no affect to reality, but in my mind I thought I did some dope shit. Who knows.

After my friends noticed me continuously dancing with my pants around my ankles they definitely knew I was tripping out harder than I could control. The boner may have given it away..

My buddies helped me out by giving me a major wedgie from the rear literally lifting me into the air by pulling my pants back on. I was seriously in such a heavy trip at this point that not only did I consider that a new phase of existence, but I couldn't even button up my own fucking pants.

One of my crew at the time helped me out by escorting me to a grass area. This is where i definitely went down hill. Its honestly tough to think about this part because of how lame it got from this point on. I literally stopped considering reality real and felt as if that my trip mattered more than anything in the universe. Not only was I still dancing around and waving my hands at this point vibing the fuck out but I was even being confronted by old classmates from high school I didn’t even recognize because I was too deep within my own spirit to consider them relevant or even real. At this point my actions were a direct result of what I was experiencing in my mind. My mind was literally absorbing the environment and relating EVERYTHING to my own life. That rave was me. That scene was real because of my energy and that energy was so pure and so positive that if there was ever a party to be considered a party, it would be complete SHIT without my presence and vibes. That’s how selfish my hallucinations and thoughts became. For a moment while i was sitting in the grass, I had actually thought that I turned into an engine that provided the rave with positive energy that people could feed off of if they made connections with me.  Everything that I thought I knew became this weird sense of reality that caused me to think I was a GOD. Eventually ground control found my trippy ass fuckn around in the dirt with my friend who had no idea what to do with me. They tried to calm my shit down but my mind was more or less doing circles around these people. The addy molly and three tabs were in their full effect. I was gooooone. Like, reality was meaningless at that point. Whatever happened was happening because it was happening. They had no idea how to approach me. It was as if I was dumber than a fifth grader. From this point my mind had taken me to a place where I had a bird's eye view of my entire life. From the point i was born and to the present moment. Don’t get me wrong, none of us can remember what the moment of our birth was like because of how underdeveloped our brains were at the time, but my mind was racing so fast that I was having memories return to me from when I was in elementary school. I was watching a slide-show of events and memories of my life that had a lot to do with that moment and more so of recent events. I didn’t even realise it, but there was a group of about 4 EMT gentlemen escorting me to an ambulance. I don’t really have many details of this period of time since time became an essence, and not a feeling in that memory. But I apparently had a very difficult time being strapped into the chair where they were gonna tranquilize me. There were multiple attempts on their part to inject me with an IV and by the time I was strapped in I was definitely feeling a bad sense of urgency to get back to reality. That was out of the question though. There was no going back to the rave for the banana who took off it’s peel. The ambulance had already engulfed me, and Jumpman was blasting in the cabin. That was my only sense of pleasure at that point, hearing Drake and Future through the radio was actually calming me down. And the tranquilizer hit around that moment too so there was no question about it that I was done raving for the night. FML.

The hallucinating continued however, except it took on a more nightmarish nature once the opiates of the benzos mixed in with my already rolling face took me into a different perspective of my imagination. The ambulance ride was more or less a hallucination that I was aboard a submarine. That was weird. Then once we got to the hospital itself I couldn’t stop seeing my soul. It was like a transparent ball of life that my mind was seeing as a sphere of water, except the water had a darkness within it like a corruption of the soul. It moved and breathed as if it was representative of all of the negative things I’ve done in life. Now that I’m actually typing a trip report on these events I’m very concerned for the well-being of our planet. What we consider to be good/bad in life is completely perspective and opinion.. Being able to dive that deep into my imagination was something that changes people's lives. I for one found it as an inspiration. Whatever the negativity in my soul represented is only something that society would consider evil. I hardly remember anything else from the events of the hospital since I was knocked out not too long after they checked me into ICu, but the lessons I learned because of that experience are something that I will surely take with me for the rest of my life. Quite frankly, I have a greater sense of respect for the things that people within the medical field put up with and do for safety of our future. That adderall and molly would have done some serious damage to me if they hadn’t taken me into the hospital, and some people even were speculating that I was going to overdose because of that experience and maybe even die. Honestly though, waking up at 3am asking if i could be taken back to the rave was really a buzz-kill. My friend brought back my gear and other items that were left at the time when I was removed from the rave. Then the best thing happened to me. I checked my pocket to find a still-full baggie of mollys and couple tabs of acid. Nobody had fucked with it or thrown it out. I immediately put that shit back in my pocket and continued my journey onto the next rave.

If there’s a lesson to be learned from me, it's hydration. I would not have lost control if I had my camelback had been with me and full of water. My honest theory is that my body was overheating at a rate that wasn’t being compensated for with the use of water. H20 is our friend you guys. And there’s only so much of it on this planet that is safe to drink. Take care of your water, and don’t waste it. Countries go to fucking war over that shit. People die because of the lack of water in some nations of our planet. Water is the best thing in our fucking cosmos right now, it is the job of every human being to have a sense of respect for such a beautiful thing like water. And other than mars and a few other moons in our solar system, I don’t think there’s a whole heck of a lot of water near our planet in case we run this shit dry....Don’t waste that shit. Don’t spit in that shit, don’t piss in that shit unless it's a goddamn urinal. And please, for the love of god and his almighty domain we inhabit, SHARE that fucking shit!!!!!!!! I love all of you who have the courage and focus to read all of what I’ve just posted. I apologize if some of this doesn’t make sense. Psychedelics usually don’t make much sense anyways because of how different people are. Individualism is real whether we like it or not. Lsd and other research chemicals have completely different effects on each and every individual soul in existence. The things I experienced are not something to go out and obtain for yourself. This was merely an event that took place in my life that I have decided to share with you for the common sharing of knowledge and experience. Don’t drop 3 tabs of acid, a molly, and an adderall. Subtract the adderall from this equation and I guarantee you I would have had a much different experience. My heart rate was fucked all night because of that amphetamine. The things I was being forced to see within myself were not at all entertaining or pleasant in my sober opinion right now. Mdma is all you need. Please heed my warning about mixing substances with research chemicals such as 25i-nbome. That was not pure lsd I took that night, and an estimate of 200ug of that shit is more than enough to cause some dangerous neurotoxic effects to our minds. The brain is a very powerful tool in our existence and is constantly firing millions of neurons without you even controlling it. Respect your mind. Respect your body, and respect the world in which you inhabit. Go make a difference, and give back to your reality somehow. Each and every one of us has a certain array of talents and skillsets that are unique to our character as we have developed over the course of our lives. And if you think you can just freeload off of this godly existence we all share in, your wrong. If you haven’t discovered the meaning of PLUR. You have much to learn in these cosmos you inhabit. Don’t take these words for granted. The shit that you experience in life will only lead you on the track of life that you choose to create. We all make our decisions. Yet in the end, our decisions make us. Live life in the moments that still exist and enjoy them for the respective value they contain. Peace. Love. Unity. Respect. That's all you fucking need to get along with any goddamn soul in existence. I love you, now go spread some more of that love, the world is in short supply as of lately. AND DON’T FORGET TO FUCKING HYDRATE YOU FILTHY ANIMALS. The end. 0

[cracksofmtdoom]

Sunday the fifth of July two thousand and twenty. The time is currently 8:40 pm. After spending most of the day in a funk over my behavior and actions, I got a service call for no AC. Local people, done work there before. Social acquaintances from the neighborhood bar. Was able to take care of their problem, bad condenser fan motor. Made a quick $200.00. Not too bad for an hour and a half. Since I’m already in a funk what else would I do but call up the dopeman. Need to punish myself even more I guess. It’s just so very pathetic. The craziest thing is that I am absolutely 100% fully cognizant and aware of what I’m doing and how terrible it is. It’s like watching a horrible car wreck. You don’t want to see how bad it is yet can’t tear your eyes away. So as I sit here on the shitter, putting all of these thoughts to screen, I ask myself; if I’m fully aware of what I’m doing and the extreme wrong of doing it, WHY THE FUCK AM I????? Seriously. This is so utterly ridiculous. And why did I put myself back into the most utterly toxic environment, a place I know I stand zero chance of succeeding? Soooo many questions. Not a single motherfucking answer. Maybe I’ll find out after that first blast.