#except having money part. I like having money

[soupboy9000]

The drug supply in North America is increasingly toxic. I work at one of the only places in my city with an FTIR drug testing machine. We can test a tiny sample and get a full chemical breakdown. We have tested something like 4 to 6 samples of coke in the last week and none of it contains cocaine except in amounts less than 10%.

What they DO contain is meth, fentanyl and other synthetic opioids. These are not drugs you should be unknowingly injesting and can cause complex overdoses that can't be reversed with Narcan alone. This shit is straight up evil on the part of the manufacturers, but you also have to play safe.

SOME SAMPLES didn't even have those drugs. It was all toxic filler ingredients that will straight up poison and kill you if you injest them. That's not something Narcan can fix. You won't get high on this stuff, just very sick, you could die.

Like OP said, get fentanyl strips and Narcan. Get Benzo strips too if you can find them because Benzo overdoses require medical attention. Play safe, stay alive. Whoever is making these drugs and whoever is putting this toxic filler in them doesn't care what happens to the user they just want their money. Some dealers straight up don't know what's in the stuff they're selling and can't warn you about it beforehand. The crisis is only getting worse, keep yourself and your friends safe.

I know i’m functionally a gay DARE officer at this point but I do in fact feel some sort of way about Cocaine being back in vogue. Surely I sound like a square + narc and I’ll concede ok do whatever you want, nobody can materially stop another person from using drugs if they really want to 🤷🏻 I don’t really care that it’s hip to do party drugs, moreso I want to articulate a general level of caution and concern that I never see a sidecar of harm reduction and safe using practices along with the commonplace clips of people straight up snorting coke I’ve seen for “brat summer!!!1!!”

You 🫵 are not immune to ingesting fentanyl or any number of other additives. Do you think drugs at the gay club are different than the drugs people are taking under bridges and in gutters? I promise they’re not! So if you want to use drugs and continue being alive, do your part to be safe. Protecting yourself protects others and your community.

Do not accept drugs from strangers. Test your drugs with fentanyl test strips. Carry narcan and know how to administer it. Never use alone. Have an exit strategy if you’re using drugs in a public space. Know the contact information for your local harm reduction groups, overdose emergency hotline, and if you need/want it, addiction treatment orgs. This is all the bare minimum for community care if you intend to be out in the world using drugs. Mainly I encourage you all to be buzzkills if it means you don’t have to die of an accidental overdose. Overdose is the leading cause of death for Americans under 40. I have a whole lot of social workers in my network and however bad you think the synthetic opioid crisis is, it’s worse. The war stories I’ve heard from my people on the ground are… The shit of nightmares. Don’t let it be you or anybody you love.

If you live in the state of Georgia, DM me for a longer list of resources.

Fentanyl information (harm reduction.org)

Get Narcan

How to use fentanyl test strips

Call 311 to find out where to get Narcan in your community at no cost to you

[haveateadude]

don't say yes, run away now

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ what happens when you invite Ellie to your wedding, and what would you do if she stands up?

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ i mention sex like,, once but nothing happens. homophobia and some white guy named michael.

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ I LOVED THIS IDEA OMGG AND I FINALLY GOT TO WRITE ITTT

I hear the preacher say, "Speak now or forever hold your peace"

There's the silence, there's my last chance

I stand up with shaky hands, all eyes on me

Horrified looks from everyone in the room

But I'm only looking at you

You've wanted to get married for as long as you can remember. You have always dreamed of wearing a white dress, with your arm hooked around your father's while he walks you down the aisle, your whole family and friends sitting on those wooden chairs applauding as you kiss the person you love the most. Except, today is your wedding. And you don't think you want this. A little voice in your head is going: this is wrong this is wrong this is wrong and you don't love him you won't be happy don't do this don't do this you'll be miserable.

Don't do this

Don't do this

Don't do this.

"Don't move," you hear your mother say. You come back to reality as she zips up your dress. It's itchy and uncomfortable and you can't breathe. Is this really what you've been wishing for your whole life? "All done."

You turn around to look at your mother. You chuckle, trying to hide how shitty you're feeling, "This is uncomfortable."

"Oh, shush," She says, smiling. "Bear with it. You only get to do this once in your life—unless you divorce Michael and get married again. Which, you shouldn't because the divorce papers cost a shit ton of money. And he's a good guy, isn't he?"

You nod, "Yeah, mom. He is."

"That's good." She stops for a second, then looks at you: from head to toe. She's still smiling and it's starting to freak you out. "I can't believe this is happening. You look so beautiful, honey. "

"Thank you."

"You know, you scared me for a second. For a while, I thought you were a lesbian when you used to bring that girl back then. What was her name? Ella, Amelia, Bella…"

"Ellie?"

"Right, Ellie. You've invited her, haven't you?"

You nod, "Yeah. She's still a friend."

You don't know if liking each other's Instagram stories counts as being friends. And it might seem cruel, knowing you've dated her secretly in the past, and now you've invited her to your fucking wedding. But it didn’t feel right not to ask her. You've known her since you were in high school.

You take a deep breath, desperately trying to get Ellie off your mind. All you're starting to think about now is kissing under the rain with her, secretly passing notes in the hallway, laughing in between kisses, sitting in between her legs while you read - just quietly existing in each other's presence without having to make it sexual. This is the moment you realize you've never felt this way with Michael. He makes you smile and he kisses you when he comes home from work. But he never laughs during sex, and he never holds your hand except for when you're in public. He never whispers, "It's okay," ever so gently like Ellie when you cry; he never runs his finger through your hair like Ellie used to when you couldn't sleep.

This is the day of your wedding, for fuck's sake. Maybe deciding to marry in church wasn't a good idea.

A part of you knows that you've been longing for Ellie your whole life.

You were wishing she wouldn't come, but as you walk down the aisle you can't help but catch a glimpse of her eyes. It always seemed that you were connected—as if you both had a string attached to your pinkies. If she pulled—if she looked at the back of your head you'd turn around to look at her; if she walked to the room you would be able to feel it—you would fucking feel it. Right now you could feel the string. She was tugging at it. She was tugging and tugging and tugging and she would not leave you alone.

As you stand in front of Micheal you try to smile; he smiles back. Ellie is tugging at the string. She could always tell when you had a fake smile on your face.

The preacher is talking but you're not hearing him.

"Are you okay?" Michael whispers to you.

You nod, still smiling. With teeth and everything. You then whisper, "Yeah, I'm just overwhelmed."

"Me too," he whispers back. "I'm so happy, I can't believe this is happening."

You're about to reply when you hear, "Speak now or forever hold your peace—"

And then someone stands up.

And then your smile drops as you look at her.

Ellie has always been reckless, the little shit. She's always bold and brave and she isn't scared of saying what she thinks but still—this surprises you. You hear an echo of gasps around the place and all eyes are on her as she's standing. But she doesn't say anything. She looks around the room and then looks at you so you look at her. Tug, tug, tug. You can't help but feel like a helpless teenage girl in a secret relationship—this is what you felt when you used to look at her in a party, knowing nobody knew about her and you and also knowing you'll find your ways to meet up later. And then she blinks, and then leaves. Just like that. She walks out.

Michael's eyes are on you. It hits you, suddenly, that you will be married to him. He'll want to have kids and you will agree because that's who you are and then you'll be miserable.

"Woah," He laughs. Like this is funny. Like someone has just told a joke. "Was that Ella? Your mother told me that—"

And then your feet are moving before you can think of the consequences. People gasp again, now they're starting to stand up. You walk out, taking out your veil and heels, and leave them on the floor of the church as you run. You can't help but feel happy, free, proud. Especially proud. Like this isn't your secret anymore—like you could scream at the world how much you like her without being embarrassed or scared. Everyone should know you love her.

"Ellie!" You exclaim as you look at her. She's also running. "Ellie, hold up!"

She stops suddenly, turning around to look at you. Her breath is ragged.

"Did you just—what are you doing here? You're getting married."

"Fuck Michael," You breathe out, hands over your knees, trying to catch your breath. "I think I hate him and I—and I keep thinking about you. And I just—fuck Ellie. I can't marry him."

"You've wanted this your whole life," she says. She knows how much you've wanted to get married, you always talked to her about it. "You've finally got it and—"

And then she's not speaking, because you're kissing her. Her lips feel like home. Ellie chuckles and then you're laughing, too. You press your forehead against hers and you feel like you could cry. Maybe you are. She wraps her arms around you like she just needs to hold you.

"I'm sorry to break this moment," she starts to say as she pulls away, looking behind your shoulder. "But we've got a mad mother running towards us."

You look behind as you see that your mother is running as she screams your full name.

"Run," you tell her. She nods and seconds after you're both running for your lives, Ellie holding your hand gently.

"Thank god I brought my car!" She exclaims as she pulls her keys with her other hand. She unlocks the car doors and as soon as she gets in she starts the engine. You get into the passenger's seat. "I can't believe we just did that."

You laugh as Ellie drives until losing sight of your mother.

You know this will bring a lot of consequences and maybe you'll never talk to your family again. But well—at least you'll live a happy life and will never run out of what to talk about in therapy.

[dduane]

I just read the part where Kirk experiences the Enterprise's point of view in The Wounded Sky to someone else, where she sees the crew as children she is training up to the Great Desire of exploration for exploration's sake, especially Jim. His reaction, essentially: "That was really pretty. ....And then he blows her up."

I hadn't thought about that before! I checked the copyright date, and it looks like The Wounded Sky came out a year before The Search for Spock, so you were writing without knowing that sacrifice would eventually happen.

How did you feel about that? Do you wish that writing decision had been made differently? (If, as a Trek writer, you're allowed to comment on other Trek writers' choices!)

You know, I tend not to think a whole lot about such issues. First of all, because (in the long run) it gets you nowhere in particular that's useful. And secondly, because it's not a thing that, as a Trek writer in any medium except film, you have the slightest power to change.

Now, at this end of time I think we can safely say that no one's going to hire me on to write a Trek film. And also that no one at that end of the creative spectrum is going to pay the slightest attention to anything I say, either. Both of those situations are just What's So, and neither of them bothers me. (Since I have universes of my own to manage at the moment, and that's where my attention properly lies.) So as regards my opinions about other writers' work, I'm pretty much off the hook.

If I had been on screenwriting duty for that film, would there be things I'd have wanted to do differently? Hell yeah. From the premise up. But the important thing here is: would those things necessarily have worked better on the screen / with the audience? Impossible to tell. And speaking as someone repeatedly given permission to work in someone's universe, the main thing to be aware of is the expectation that your chief responsibility is to do what best serves the characters and the IP of which they're part. (There's a post over at Out of Ambit with a lot more of my thoughts on the subject:)

The other thing to remember is that, though I've worn the Canonical Hat in my time, novel work is by definition non-canonical. Doing it, you are at all times working with the understanding that the licensor rarely views your work as anything better than a corporate side hustle—a way for the IP to make some cash on the side—and will ignore you and the stuff you've created unless given pressing reasons to do otherwise. (Such as when they might make some unexpected money off it... at which point you remind yourself as forcibly as necessary that what you did is Work For Hire; they own it, lock, stock and barrel, and you should not realistically expect to be given any credit.)

And, if you understand the rules and enjoy the work enough, all of this is okay. The reward is not in making a lot of money doing it, or even in having aspects of your work openly assumed into canon. The reward lies in being allowed to contribute to a given universe in public (and, yeah, getting paid for it by the licensor). It's not payback: it's payforward. And you're left an astonishing amount of freedom to bring your vision to that universe. (Sometimes... as one colleague has McCoy say... you have to be "very, very careful" to get away with it. But it can be done.)

The truth is that even in the 1980s, I was sharing this level of playing-in-a-universe with a goodish cohort of editors and writers: a big roomful at least. Now I'm sharing it (retroactively speaking) with hundreds of them. With the best will in the world, even in the 80's the licensors (as regarded film) couldn't have realistically polled/listened to all of us regarding our creative opinions about the screenplay end of things. As for what that'd look like nowadays... I'll leave you to your own deductions. 😏

Anyway, thanks for the question. It's always nice to know that there are people who want to know what you think. 😊

[deaconusdelirium]

Simon Headcannons

- now just for yall out there, this is my take on mean Simon, so no hands or anything to any other writers 🫶 -

———

•Simon knows he’s not the best lover to have, and he even warned you that he isn’t anyone’s cup of tea especially for pretty young things. He’d rather have someone who is financially stable, knows how to navigate life and knows how to do things yourself. It saves him the time and his patience. But still, if you pushed to date him, then so be it. He’s told you once and he won’t repeat himself

•Simon who can hold a conversation with people without being a total ass. He knows people are just naturally hesitant about his size and looks. And no, he won’t be mean to anyone who asks a simple question. Except if it’s a dumb question then he’s gonna say something

•Simon who brings home military training because it’s the norm for him. He told you his job and what he does and he trusts (expects) you to remember what rank and position he holds and how it makes him act. He’ll tell you he very rarely comes home, so there’s no warm cozy home for you to decorate. He lives on base and he lives at work, two birds one stone. What does he need an apartment in Manchester for?

•Simon who does not like to cuddle- at all. He’ll let you play a lovely civy life with him, as long as you don’t expect him to drop his personal space and boundaries. He can’t help it, all people live differently. He likes the bed warm, obviously not cold, but if you try to cling to him. He’s telling you to scoot back and he stays on his side. And if you’re one of those people who take up the whole bed, he’s staying towards the edge, he’s throwing your hand that’s in his space back towards you. And if you keep moving as such (which isn’t your fault btw) he’ll up and leave. Sleeping on the couch- or even the floor

•Simon who won’t follow you to the restroom. And no, he won’t wake up when you move just the slightest. He actually sleeps, like every other person does and has to. He knows sleep is important, especially in the military. Whether it’s a few minutes or hours. He’s out. You can talk on the phone with your friends or whoever and he won’t wake up. You can shake him a bit but if actually full on grab his arm or anything, he’s grabbing your wrist. And if you do however make a lot of noise and sees you not there but the bathroom light on. He’s going right back to sleep, lord knows he wouldn’t like you on his tail when he’s using the restroom. Respect his privacy and he’ll respect yours

•Simon who’s not grumpy and mean all the time. He’ll crack jokes, you just have to really understand and get behind his dark and dry humor. If anything, tell a really good joke and he’ll laugh. He’s just like every other man. He’ll loosen up but not enough to make a fool of himself

•Simon who has manners, he knows the military doesn’t care if you say thank you or your welcome. If you do as told and stay quiet, then you’re alright. But he knows civy life is different, if you cook, make or bake, he’s saying his thank you’s and telling you it’s good. What he won’t do, is pull you into his lap and make you sit there while he eats. He finds it awkward and a little uncomfortable. He eats fast, so if you’re expecting him to take his time and actually talk to you. You’re wrong, you can ask and he’ll take it into suggestion. But there’s no guarantees. When he eats, he eats, and again, it’s the norm for him

•Simon who won’t hand you his card and tell you to go ham, instead, you can ask for money. If you’re married that’s a different story, he’ll ask what it is and if you really need it. He’ll let you slide off the hook a few times but nothing too crazy or over the top. Now the marriage part, i think it would be pretty impossible to marry him considering how he’s self aware and tries to help you keep your self esteem high and your self worth even higher. He tells you that he’s not going to make a good husband- he’s not going to come home all the time when he’s at base. He won’t make an effort and go all out just to show you he loves you. Instead, he’ll try and get you to leave him. But easier said than done

•Simon who will sleep with you, if you want. My guess is he’d rather sleep his needs off than act on it if he has the time. If not, he’ll rub one out. If you fully offer yourself to him, don’t get upset that he goes somewhere private to alleviate his stress rather than come to you. He’s still getting use to staying with you. Either that, or he just forgot. If you do however manage to get him to sleep with you. He’s just going with the flow, doesn’t really want anything rough, if you ask him to go harder than he will…. Just not anything animalistic. He’s quiet rather than degrading, he doesn’t choke you, doesn’t spank you. He’d rather have plain vanilla sex without anything too crazy

•Simon who would still love you, maybe a little more than when he first started talking to you. But that’s what “falling in love with you more and more everyday” means to him. He shows you his love in his own way. Always lets you know he appreciates whatever it is that you do for him even though he can do things himself. He’ll take you out for dinner, nothing fancy to where he’ll dress in a suit or tie but nothing where he’ll wear his pajamas. Just a nice casual dinner.

———

sleeping on the floor is S tier btw

[columbidaehypoxia]

Learning more and more there is no "together". Life is a beautiful and horribly stressful collection of moving parts and shifting things and all you really can do is try and make the best day you can.

Sometimes if I look at everything in my life, my partner's life, the world, and I feel like I'm drowning. Now I'm not the only one. And i know that if I stay there, looking down at everything that is,could've been, wants that never manifested and needs that were never met, I could get lost in it all forever.

But at some point, you know there are things you can't change and things you can't do or didn't, but you can't go back. You have today and these moments, and I've really begun to learn to live, or enjoy, the moment, the present. You can't change how much you hurt and wasted 7 yrs of your life being hurt, but you can pause and choose a little bit of peace for today.

And I mean this for goals too, you can achieve almost anything if it's genuine. If you wanted to paint and never learned how, do it now. Make your paint from mud if you don't have the money to buy paint, but make yourself a fucking masterpiece. Write music and do whatever you want with it. Make creepy short films on your phone that you may or may not ever publish. Enjoy the doing and the feeling of choosing you, of choosing the action of love, because you cannot love something if you regret it, and I don't think ppl should carry this regret around. Take a moment to be proud of even the 'small' accomplishments.

There is always hope, every and any day, and we all are doing the same thing, trying to find out how not to carry the weight of regrets with us wherever we go. (Except maybe that 1 person who definitely has it figured out, we don't know what to say about them. They probably don't have laundry to do when they get home either. This is irrelevant. )

Anyways no one asked for this sorry to rant on ur post I'll stop talking sending love

everyone from childhood seems to have carved out a life for themselves. i still feel 15 and completely hopeless

[mariacallous]

The fascist spectacle of Trump’s rally at Madison Square Garden is being hailed as a triumph by members of the MAGA movement. 

To their eyes, it was an incursion into a diverse, progressive city that will overwhelmingly vote against one of their own: the boy who grew up in Queens and rose to fame in Manhattan, who sexually assaulted women in luxury stores and called for the execution of five innocent black kids (the exonerated “Central Park Five”) on the streets below, who one day descended a golden escalator in Midtown to announce his candidacy for president in a photo op that began his shocking ascent to the White House. It eventually led him back to a courtroom in downtown Manhattan, where a jury of his peers deigned to convict him for interfering in the 2016 election by paying hush money payments to a porn star. 

But to former President Donald Trump himself, none of that history matters, except as cause for retribution. ��That is a lot of fake news!” he said to the packed crowd inside the arena on Sunday, pointing to the assembled press corps, calling them the “enemies of the people” for the umpteenth time. 

This was part of Trump’s triumph, too, that the whinging, “woke” media, for all its documentation of his crimes and mendacity, could not stop him from taking this stage at — as Madison Square Garden describes itself — “the world’s most famous venue,” a Trumpian turn of phrase if there ever was one. 

I’ve lost count of the number of Trump rallies I’ve covered these last eight years. Each story I filed attempted to document how the gatherings were teeming with extremists: white supremacists and militiamen. Members of violent fascist street gangs. Apocalyptic Christians and self-appointed apostles who said they spoke to God, who told them Trump was a modern-day King Cyrus. And that sometimes they’d approach members of the press and threaten them, dragging a finger across their throats. Or that, one time, about a dozen Proud Boys surrounded me and demanded I explain why I called them neo-fascists. 

What I attempted to convey at each turn was that these extremists were much less “fringe” than we would like to imagine, that they were firmly part of the MAGA coalition now, and that their crude and cruel talking points were becoming the official messaging of the Republican Party. 

The word “extremist” has become increasingly moot to describe people and beliefs that have gone mainstream. I’ll always remember the nice middle-aged MAGA couple who politely, even sweetly, told me that we should ethnically cleanse the U.S. of Muslims. It’s that sort of memory that’s been behind so much of the reporting that I think I and my HuffPost colleagues have done, trying to scream these last few years how plainly fascist this all was. That it was happening here.  

So, this story — about all the white nationalists and far-right influencers in the audience last Sunday at Madison Square Garden — is, in a way, just another one of those stories. Still, I can’t help but feel that what this story describes is somehow even more alarming than any of the dispatches I filed from rallies in Greenville or El Paso or Colorado Springs. 

But depending on what happens this Tuesday, maybe it’s the final Trump rally story I’ll file at all. 

[curtis-corner]

STAND BY ME (Darry Curtis) PART 11

Fic Materlist Here

This part is definitely the longest one so far! It was really fun to picture the entire scene going down and I hope it comes across in writing how I pictured it. I really enjoy this little world and am so happy you are all enjoying as well. Thank you for every like and comment <3

Taglist : @lovelylegolas2123 @amnestyliketaz @spuffyfan394, @sleeplessskeleton

PART 11

Your interactions with Tim Shepard have, up until today, been limited to him buying things at the store. He is older than you, so you never shared classes and truth be told, he sort of terrifies you.

You are pretty sure Darry isn’t afraid of anything except losing his brothers, so he doesn’t seem shaken at all when he walks out the front door, shutting it tight behind him.

You notice Pony moving into the living room and you peek your head around the corner.

“Can you hear him?” Pony mumbles and Soda nods. Pony carefully walks over to where Soda is standing next to the open window and they both quietly sit on the floor.

You realize they plan on eavesdropping on their brother, and you walk over ready to blow their cover and have them move, when you hear Tim Shepard say:

“Her old man owes over three thousand dollars to Ray Desmond. That ain’t a guy you want to owe.”

You feel like your knees are about to give out. You’re frozen to the spot and unable to stop listening to the conversation. You feel Pony and Soda’s eyes on you, knowing they figured it out as well, but you can’t stop staring at the door.

“She’s got no part in that. I don’t want his goons coming after her.” Darry sounds tough, and angrier than you’ve ever heard him before.

“I already spread it around that she’s Darry Curtis’ girl and she doesn’t have a damn clue where her daddy is. But that doesn’t mean Ray’s boys won’t come asking.”

“If she had the money, she’d pay it just to bail out her dad and keep herself safe. But she doesn’t.” You can’t see Darry but you know he’s likely running his hand through his hair and looking up to the sky in frustration. “Hell, we could rob everyone’s wallets from here to the county line and we won’t get three thousand dollars.”

“I don’t run with Ray’s boys but I know he keeps a tight leash on them and he has enough standards for a bookie that he won’t hurt her if she really doesn’t know anything. But if her daddy comes back to town, he’s sealing his own coffin.”

Darry lets out a swear and it’s quiet for a minute until he clears his throat.

“Guess I owe you pretty big then.”

“It’s set for next Saturday. Clinton Park at 7.”

“I’ll be there.”

Soda and Pony move quickly, both clamoring to stand up and away from the window, but they aren’t quick enough. Darry walks in, sees the three of you in the living room and sighs.

“Are you kidding me.”

“The window was open,” Pony tries.

“What’s set for next Saturday?” Soda narrows his eyes at his older brother.

“Did you tell Tim Shepard to find out who my dad owes money to?” You ask, knowing the answer but needing to hear it from Darry himself.

Darry looks between the three of you and shakes his head, walking towards the kitchen to the forgotten supper.

“Can we talk about this later?” Darry’s irritated, but he’s not off the hook with any of you. All three of you follow him.

“Is it the rumble with the Carter boys? Are you fighting with the Shepard gang?”

“How do you know about that?” Darry asks Soda, who shrugs and raises his eyebrows, waiting for confirmation. It clicks for you exactly why Darry would be fighting in a rumble, and you see red.

“Did you make a deal with Tim that you’d be in a rumble for him?” You know your voice is getting louder, and somewhere in the back of your mind it registers that this is your and Darry’s first major argument.

“We’ll talk about it later.” Darry starts scooping mashed potatoes from the pot and slamming them on to a plate. “Y’all start eating.”

“You can’t be in a rumble by yourself, what if you get hurt!” Pony looks worried.

“Don’t worry Pony, I’m going with him.” Soda is confident and you swear his chest puffs out a little. “Steve and Two will too.”

“What about me?” Pony asks.

“No.” Darry shuts him down and he gets a piece of chicken fried steak. He turns to Soda. “And we’ll talk about you and the others. Make a plate.”

“Come on Darry!” Pony whines.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to talk to Tim?” You ignore Darry’s request to talk about it later.

“Damnit, can we just eat before I get an interrogation from every person here?” Darry’s voice is loud again, but it doesn’t scare you. It just adds the fuel to your fire.

“How could you agree to a rumble just for information on my father? What in the world would make you think I would be okay with this?”

Darry slams his plate on the table and takes a deep breath.

“Tim did something for me, I’ll do something for him. It was my choice and whoever choses to fight, it’s their choice too.”

“I choose-“ Pony starts.

“Not you.” Darry cuts him off.

“Well I’m so glad y’all have your choices.” You can see in Darry’s expression when he realizes your voice has gone from hot anger to ice cold.  “Seems the only one without a choice is me.”

“That’s not true-“

“And when someone gets hurt? It’s my fault because this was all done for me. And I don’t want it!” Your voice is back to anger and you can feel tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.

Across the table Darry seems to be cooling off. You’ve always been good at reading him, even when he was just an acquaintance coming into the store. The angry glint in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a warm look of concern.

But while he is calming down, you are heating up.

“Do you think I feel better because I know how much my dad owes? Who he owes?”

“Honey,” Darry steps around the table but you take two steps back.

“How am I going to get that money? Three thousand fucking dollars. Jesus!” You know you’re breaking down, and your mind is yelling at you to stop but you just can’t. Words keep coming out of you like a faucet you can’t turn off. “This is such a goddamn mess!”

“Sweetheart,” Darry is within reaching distance of you know but you furiously shake your head.

“I need some fresh air.” His face crumbles and even though you are angry, you take a breath. “Just the porch, Darry. I promise.”

Darry had once confided in you that ever since Pony ran out the night he slapped him, Darry had been terrified of people leaving and never coming back. That the days Pony was gone were some of his worst, even worse than the days after his parents died.

You were upset, but you still loved him more than anything. And you would never try to hurt him on purpose.

You walk out the door, shutting it firmly behind you and throw yourself into the old lawn chair. The sun is hanging low in the Oklahoma sky, casting a brilliant mix of colors across the neighborhood.

A pack of cigarettes and an old lighter lay on the overturned cooler-turned-table. You recognize the brand as the one Pony favors, and you reach into the box, taking one and lighting it up before you can really think it through.

Smoking isn’t something you do often – you’ve tried it a few times and never liked the aftertaste, but you can’t deny that it does take the edge off when you need it to.

The door opens and put your cigarette out in the ashtray. You are both surprised and somehow not surprised to see Soda and his kind smile.

“Mind if I have a seat?” You nod and he hands you a blanket. “Darry didn’t want you gettin’ cold.”

“Thanks.” You recognize the old plaid blanket as your favorite one in the house and your heart warms a little that Darry must have caught on that you always gravitate towards that one.

“You know, I love my brothers the same. And I’d do just about anything for them. But glory, they are stubborn.” You let out a laugh and his smile grows.

“Especially that older one.” You sigh. “Soda?”

“Yeah?”

“What happens in a rumble? I mean, I know y’all fight but…how bad does it get?” The longer you sit out here, the more it bothers you and you can’t shake the feeling of dread.

“Aw, it ain’t so bad. Especially a skin rumble. Steve’s broken his nose twice, and Two Bit usually gets a black eye for running his mouth while punching. But Darry never gets hit too bad, he can knock a grown man out with one punch.”

“I don’t know how much better I feel about that,” You admit, but the pit in your stomach does get a little lighter. “Why won’t he let Pony fight?” Soda’s expression falls.

“Last time…well, last time Pony really shouldn’t have fought at all. He had just gotten back from bein’ on the run, and he was real tired and got pretty sick after. But Johnny and Dallas died that night too, so it was just…” He trails off.

“Just a lot going on?”

“Yeah. Darry was real scared about it though, so he doesn’t want Pony anywhere near a fight. Even a clean one.” You mull it over for a minute.

“Soda, if any of you get hurt…I don’t see how I can forgive myself.”

“You’re not makin’ us do anythin’. Darry agreed for Tim, and we got his back. Just how it goes.” He says it easily, and you guess he had a point.

“I’m sorry I yelled at Darry in front of you and Pony. And that I dropped the f word.” Soda gives you that movie-star smile and shakes his head.

“We have heard that word before, you know.” You both share a laugh. “Darry’s just always trying to fix everything. We called him superman even before our parents died.”

“I do love that about him. Even when…” You trail off.

“Even when he drives you crazy?” Soda offers and you nod. “That’s alright. My dad used to drive my mom crazy all the time. But they always worked it out. That’s what love is.”

--

Darry is attacking the laundry when you softly open the door. You see four piles – Darry, Soda, Ponyboy…and you.

“Hi,” He looks up at your quiet greeting. His eyes are guarded, but kind.

“Hey.” Darry answers. He puts down the faded high school shirt into the Ponyboy pile and jams his hands into his jean pockets. You know that’s a tell-tale sign that he’s nervous.

“Can we talk?” He nods. “I apologized to Soda and I’ll talk to Pony tomorrow, but I never should have yelled at you in front of them. Or swore. I’m sorry.”

“What? No baby, you don’t have to be sorry.” Darry takes a tentative step closer to you and you realize you need to feel his arms around you more than anything. So, you close the gap between the two of you and sink into his embrace. He lets out a soft relieved sigh when you do. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice. And I should have told you I went to Tim.”

“Why did you go to him?” You ask and Darry pulls back a little, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Because I was scared to death. When you showed up in the middle of the night, and I hear Steve screamin’ and you’re covered in cuts and can barely breathe?” His eyes are darker and even though you were there, hearing the events of the night from him sends a shiver down your spine. “That night when I dropped you home and the house was dark…I didn’t have a good feelin’. And then everything happened…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” You reach up to touch his face and his eyes close for a minute as he leans into your touch. “This is all my dad.”

“And I went to Tim to confirm that the men were after your dad, not you.” Darry’s expression is pleading, needing you to understand. You feel tears start to form again. “I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe, and if that means knocking a few guys from Louisville Heights, that’s not a problem. You’re worth it, you hear me?” You swear his captivating eyes are staring right into your soul. “You’re always worth it.”

You nod and he pulls you closer, lifting you slightly from the floor as he moves towards the bed. He sits at the edge of the bed and pulls you on to his lap. You take a few deep breaths as he runs his hands up and down your back.

“My dad’s not coming back, is he?”

“It’s…probably better if he doesn’t.” Darry is putting it delicately and you appreciate it. You know you can never go back to your house, that you would never be able to sleep and always be terrified about another break in, or worse. As if he’s reading your mind, Darry pulls you a little closer. “You can stay here.”

“For how long?”

“Forever?” Darry asks and you can feel your eyes go wide and mouth drop slightly open.

“Darry Curtis, you can’t just ask me to move in! We just had our first big fight!”

“And now we’re makin’ up.” Darry buries his head in the crook of your neck and you can feel him grinning against you.

“It’s one thing to stay a few days while things get sorted, but move in permanently?”

“People do it all the time.” Darry starts kissing up and down your collarbone.

“Married people.”

“Well-“

“Darry, do not finish that sentence.” You hear his low chuckle and you feel like this whole evening has given you emotional whiplash. He leans his head back again and smiles up at you, one of those lazy smiles that you so rarely get to see.

“I’m not asking right now, but honey, you know I already planned on doing it one day.” You certainly did not know that. “And if you’re more comfortable moving in with a ring on your finger, we’ll just speed up the timeline a bit.”

“It’s not about--oh my--I mean--Darry.” He’s back to kissing your neck as you are having a near-crisis. “If we get married, I then become another guardian for Pony and Soda. You need to talk to them about it, make sure they are okay with it, before we even think about…you know…timelines.” You finish lamely and it doesn’t help that you can feel him smiling against your jaw. He leans back and rests his forehead against yours.

“So you’ll stay?”

And you hear it in his voice: how much he wants this. How the need to protect you may have been the catalyst for you moving in, but staying for the long haul is something he desperately wants.

You understand the feeling because you want it just as bad. You want the good days and the hard days and the regular old days in between. You want to come home to Darry and you want Darry to come home to you. It seems simple when you really think about it.

“I’ll stay. Always.”

NEXT: Settling into the Curtis house/life, thinking about Darry's talk of timelines and the outcome of the rumble with the Shepard boys.

[malenjoyer]

I just had a passing thought about my own stuff from an outsider POV. I wondered if anyone who’s not a huge fan of dick questions why Dick Grayson in most of the stuff I post…

Why all of a sudden Dick Grayson is the bus driver- because I hired him!!! I want to see him! I’m gonna put him in everything!

[fuck-you-too-world]

I have a thought,

Tim is the embodiment of Gen Z and the reason why DC disrespect him a lot is because they saw the potential and how chaotic he could be because he's just so... How do say this, he had the most normal past (as normal as any Gotham kids could get and being a nepo baby) compare to others who had tragic back story.

Tim tragic back story didn't start until he take the Robin mantel, so I think DC is scared of Tim's potential especially with his mentality that is so flexible. Like, this boy is labeled as the coffee addict-sleep deprived-tech guy-that has too much money-too much work-and could drop dead anytime, just like gen Z (except the money part).

Then the chart just made me think of it even more! Tim is literally us as gen Z but he has money, training and no adult supervision! The intelligence is debatable cuz I think he usually has the brain cells but most of the time lost it, he can be as harmless as he is apocalyptic danger level all just because he felt like it. He's mostly harmless cuz he lacks motivation.

Like imagine! (He has so many war crimes I wanted to add more so he can have a special folder with more folders inside dedicated for one war crime saperated based on timeline, planet and dimension)

Tim : Feeling bored, might piss off Luther later cuz his life is too peaceful rn

*proceeds to take over the economic world and become a shadow emperor and open up charities just because*

Also Tim

Tim : Feeling a bit feral and kinda want to have a historical vibe today

*save planets and became emperor of several planets and he rules it really well to the point he has religion that worship him*

Then he's also

Tim : This family (Waynes) is so fucked up, they need help fr fr

*blackmail Batman after he failed to blackmail Nightwing, become a therapist cuz he can't fix his family so fix others*

Near death experience? You wish!

Tim : oh, look it's Jason in- is that a cheap Robin costume?! Ew!!

*got beaten cuz he's too busy thinking about something else instead of focusing in the fight, plus he saw the kid he sort of replaced still alive -a bit murdery- but alive which is good news for his 'fixing Wayne family project'!*

Tim in his depressed and apathic era

Tim : Hm... He said no killing but is it killing if I gave them warning but they choose to ignore me and got caught up in the explosion? No, no it's not. *shrug* Good enough.

*proceeds to bomb Ra's bases and make the creepy immortal rat man loses hair and gain gray hairs at the same time*

Near death experience number unknown? Nah~

Tim : oh wow, I manage to finished all of the assignments and mission right on time! Damn, this is a record! Oh, look at that, the sky looked so clear! Too bad we can't see starts in Gotham, welp, not a bad day to sleep! I can finally sleep!

*sigh out in disappointment when He got caught and land safely on the ground, mourning the sleep he'll never get*

His response is always so relatable and mood to the point I need gen Z artist or something to get inside DC and just let out your chaotic-idgaf-feral-racoon-self so Tim can just be his true self and grow into his potential! I need to see him in his more chaotic nature with flexible moral because dang, he's just so US sometimes.

Or is it just me? Honestly, I saw this post on Pinterest and immediately went to search the original post on timblr -pun intended- just so I can let this out of my head.

Alright, thank your for coming to my Ted talk. Scatter!

i find the dischotomy between the batfam's potential to kill vs their real-world willingness to kill very interesting! so I made a graph because I'm a nerd

[gloriousmonsters]

ok listen. listen. hear me out. what if Angel was the one to propose the contract

like.... the intensification of heartbreak and guilt when Val tells him 'I own you, or have you forgotten that?' as Angel looks at his signature, the heart he drew next to it. the extra layer in 'what's the worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself'. and above all it plays well with my observation that their contract had to have been composed with some level of input from Angel, because... why on earth/in hell would Val have given him control of his life outside of the studio; and while Val invokes the contract to put Angel back in 'his place', Angel invokes it to remind Valentino that he can defy him. It's actually similar in composition to a kink contract/agreement--if I'm in this specific place, you hold all the power and call the shots; but outside of it, I don't give you that level of control. Angel can straight up tell Val to fuck off in front of a crowd and all Val can do is say he'll make Angel regret it next time he's in the studio (and isn't that an extremely dark variation of the classic kinky romance beat of 'sub misbehaves when they're in public and can get away with it, dom promises they'll pay for it later'?)

so like. all of that about the contract also works if Val proposed it, but I love headcanoning that their relationship was on the rocks around the time it was signed, and one of the factors was Vox coming onto the scene... and so now i'm just thinking about Angel in his peak era of both-sides-ing their relationship problems, knowing his 'commitment issues' (partly real, partly consisting of val's 'you know other men??' issues) are a major cause, furious and disconcerted at someone else drawing so much of Val's attention, wanting to make a stupid desperate Hail Mary pass to save their relationship but devoid of the usual options of 'have kid' or 'impulsively propose marriage' or 'move to a new house that's inevitably haunted' i watch too much horror, going for the option of '...hey do you want to make the kind of binding contract that is accessible to us?'

and surely it's not that stupid! he's only really giving Val a formal version of the power he gives him already, right? Val's his dom and his director and manager, and maybe there's... problems but it's mostly been great for Angel so far, so if having it on (magic eternally binding) paper would make Val happy and make him understand that Angel really wants him, wants them, the risk is toooootally worth it. just, best not to tell Cherri about it she'd definitely think it was insane.

(and when, much later, she learns about the contract and berates him for being an idiot and not telling her when Val brought it up, maybe don't correct her assumption. just keep it to yourself and feel even worse.)

[energysynergymatrix]

Ok I bit the bullet and made an Ososan OC and his full name is Len Kanemaru.

He's the so-called perfect guy, pretty boy barista type turned up to 11, who might as well have manifested from thin air, who has genuine fanboys and fangirls, and most of the Matsunos want him fucking dead. He's oblivious to both of these aspects of the public opinion and seems kind of empty headed for the most part. He is also struggling just as badly as them but literally no one would believe him if he told them.

He also wants to kiss the oldest DESPITE the fact that his brothers are so jealous of him for being so perfect. Shenanigans ensue.

If you want a more detailed write up about him read the cut.

OK SO . Len is a guy trying his best to pretend to be an adult despite wanting to be anything but it. Unlike the Matsunos who dont pretend to be an adult and are anything but it, Len is trying to push through adult life while wanting to return to childhood when things were easier.

Sure he has a job as barista, but he's poor with money, spending it like he's still a teenager, struggles to maintain contact with people he’s befriended outside of work, DESPITE thinking people hating him is the end of the world, and surprisingly, still lives with his parents.

The thing is that he's REALLY good at pretending to have it all together. He has quite a few fanboys and fangirls and is often described as a prince. (It’s because of his charmingly good customer service skills that is his only real social experience post highschool.) But, despite being in his mid twenties, hes kind of poorly equipped socially and is unable to pick this up, despite it being clear to literally everyone.

(Like he thinks he’s being bad at pretending to be a well put together adult, and then turns around and can handle rush pretty well understaffed, not make any mistakes, and still keep a pleasant demeanor that his admirers swoon over. Anytime someone does act like a fan trying to get his love it’s met with confusion and just. “Huh.” more than anything. He doesn’t even reject them because he doesn’t realize so many people are in love with him)

This includes quite a few Matsunos who are jealous of him for being so popular (and admittedly kind of cool), find his princely yet oblivious attitude almost annoying, and somewhat creepy because of how much he knows about them from highschool. And those who aren't irritated by him are relatively apathetic towards him.

The only reason theyre so aware of him is the fact that he and Todomatsu worked at the same cafe before the latter quit. It was after he quit that Len properly met the sextuplets, having a chance encounter with the boys sometime after. Todomatsu was already irritated by him, by again, seeing above, but also because he already seemed intimately familiar with Totty during his highschool years.

It's like they had a whole classmate just manifest into being while skipping the "actually go to class together" part.

(They did actually go to school together but literally no one knew he existed during then. Not to their fault though, Len was basically that one vine that's like "I can't I have so much to do tomorrow" *fucks around on the keyboard. Because of that Len ended up being bad with people by the time he graduated and was ushered into the work force by his parents. As a result he can't really keep friends, often times contact dying off on accident. A lot of the time spent working is him TRYING his best to maintain relationships as an adult but it never really works out. Deep down Len wishes he could redo highschool, so he could not only get this skills but also find some memories that he so clearly missed out on. Because he willingly opted out of making those therefore other people don’t remember him. As far as he knows he hasn’t really had a friend since middle school.)

But like after the two and Totty's brothers encountered each other in public a whole bomb got dropped and nothing was the same.

Despite generally not liking him the Matsunos keep him around, mostly due to Totty's insistence saying they can use him (so they cant kill him yet!) but because Len is kind of bad with people in general outside of having a fandom (that, again, came with his customer service skills), and the Matsunos are the Matsunos, this never ever goes well.

Despite this and how much shenanigans the Matsunos end up dragging him into, he considers them friends since its the closest relationship he's maintained outside of his house. On top of that, he almost admires them for being NEETs. He's kind of ashamed of it, because he knows they have to be an adult, but because he's struggling so much as an adult, he wants nothing more than to be like them. He wants to stop being an adult and return to highschool.

It's why he takes to Osomatsu so much, since he seems most open about how shitty he is and how much he doesnt want to grow up. Like weirdly enough, his man-child behavior is what makes Len likes him so much. Sure he also has a big heart and loves his family, and Len can acknowledge Oso’s best aspects, but it’s the worst parts of him that loves.

And that admiration for having his character laid out flat and embracing his childishness despite his age and situation, how he practically will just grow up when he wants to rather than when he has to (unlike Len), makes the perfect man fall for the loser guy.

The more he hangs around the Matsunos the more they encourage him to tap into his evil side, and may end up making him worse, but for now he's Mr Perfect and most of them hate him for that. He doesn't get the message though so he's just kind of hanging around them for now.

Anyways he and Osomatsu are literally I'm Glad You're Evil Too to me . And also look at these sketches of him .

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

Some mild existential dread in the house today

[loop-hole-319]

I believe that there are several types of immortality. Regeneration, Reset, Respawn and Soul Lock

Regeneration- classical super healing to keep you alive, even if it's a shot to the head.

Reset- you wake up in some alley covered with blood with holes in your shirt, but no injuries. Think the Ajin: Demi-Humans

Respawn- You wake up in your bed after a robber shot you in the face. Think groundhog Day

Soul lock- Your spirit will live forever, but you're probably locked in your body. You don't have super healing, but you're not going to die from the 37 stab wounds either. If you ask for immortality from a monkey's paw type wish giver, this is what you get.

Kenny - Respawn, when he dies, he gets an entirely new body void of any of the damages. Although I believe the lack of body and awareness of his death is part of a different curse.

Wade - Classical Regen, can't die from physical damage and often unaffected by aging. Is very much alive during healing and does not ever actually die. Wolverine has this type as well.

The Aftons - they are all soul lock or soul bound. Trapped in their corpse and forced to pilot it.

Like that one eternally suffering mummy SCP which I don't remember the name of

Starsceam - Soul/Spark lock, His spark is functionally immortal and can never go out in most continuities. Except for animated where he is the Reset type.

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

Non-true immortals

Janon - Reanimation, must be redone if he dies.

Danny Is straight up a ghost. He has fucked up anatomy. We aren't counting him.

Optimus Prime - Plot Armor, "Shit we just killed our main money maker character!" *Bullshite the character back to life*. The Winchesters also do this

[thegreatyin]

who is the scoundrel? I see you posting about them(it? Idk) all the time but I haven’t figured out who they are

my fallen london OC! i made them by accident a few months ago and as you can tell ive very quickly developed scoundrel brainrot. it's a terminal illness for which there is no cure and the symptoms are instead of brain there is scoundrel.

in terms of actual character rundowns, their full moniker is The Bandaged Scoundrel, though i tend to call them "the scoundrel" for short. their real name is D█████, but they'd sooner die permanently than respond to or even acknowledge its existence.

they are! a bastard! a rat! a son of a b___! a motherf______! they are vain beyond your wildest imagination and they think they're the most infallible perfect being in all of existence and they have the exact attitude of a saturday morning power-hungry cartoon supervillain on cocaine.

and also, perhaps most importantly, they're Really Fucking Stupid. because of course they are.

they are resplendently awful. they are inevitably going to cause their own demise in an act of pure karmic retribution. they are a speck of dust in history that desperately keeps trying to insist they're actually a tornado. i love them dearly.

in loose conclusion while also acknowledging ive explained literally nothing; my goofy silly victorian london browser game player character that deserves to get timetraveled against their will to the 21st century specifically so they can get hit by a truck

[chrisbangs]

hello... (and bye ig 👋)

[imgonnagetyoubacktv]

spending my whole life trying and trying and trying and trying to be good enough for people who don't give a fuck about me