#and then at the end it was time for the daily ingesting of glass

[microtyalm13]

Tasya has won my heart I love him so much!!!!!! he’s just a little dude…a little guy

Weird question but how would your ocs react to their S.O. being high or smoking?

HEHEHEHE thank you darling!! <) (the little guy in question being some 8ft creature. ah yes) so! i dont smoke (only one time when i was hammered out of my mind) nor was i ever high but fuck it lets roll yaaaa

deity, naga, monster under the bed, kikimora, fallen god, mothman x gender neutral reader. there could be mistakes and im npt s orrty

gavriil. — literally does not care & nothing works on him (plus he's chill enough as it is). though, beware, he will be annoying on purpose and snatch away your cigarette (he'll return it dw). or teasing you and joke about scaring you while you're high (he won't do it tho. . he's not THAT mean). teases you while you do your little ✨rituals✨.

xiaolong. — will be at least a little concerned. used to smoke in his youth for a short period of time, feels neutral about it. but if you are his beloved, xiao will express his worries. he won't be overbearing about it, nor will he stop you. though if you don't abuse it, he won't have any problems with you smoking\getting high from time to time. won't join you.

taisya\tasechka. — does not know shit about smoking and especially weed\edibles. WILL eat your cigarette\blunt if you offer him one. nothing works on him anyways. doesn't care if you smoke or not. just give him attention + a couple of orgasms once in a while and he'll be the happiest creechur alive.

derzena. — she's a smart woman. knows what certain herbs can do when ingested\inhaled. so yeah she's having a blast while simultaneously connecting with nature. show her a pack of store bought cigarettes and she'll go "nuh-uh, we're having none of that" but she might like weed. so yeah, no cigarettes, but getting high together is definitely a goal. you will have a spiritual awakening with her or some shit.

veniamin. — gets high on daily basis bc he has nothing better to do, so won't be opposed to you doing it. smoking\drinking with him always ends up with you having an overly sensitive, super slow sex, orrr... sleeping. he has a very hhigh tolerance even as a fallen god so he'll look out for you so you don't overdo anything. will hold up a cigarette\glass up to your lips while you sit in between his thighs, his free hand rubbing your knee lazily.

livy. — he saw other people smoke before, so he'll be curious about it. will ask to try it, and then scrunch up his face in mild disgust. maybe cough a little while he thinks you're not looking. after that will let out a set of impatient clicks every time you pull out a cigarette. not fond of the smell, too. just doesn't understand the appeal of it all.

[originemesis]

@poisonedspider xxx

"Ha ha ha. Yeh're soooo funny." He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he realized that his favorite resident bartender wasn't even here. Which only made it even that much more depressing that Adam was at the bar. Alone. "Yeh'd be so lucky. Guess it's yeh' luck that Charles isn't exactly into that sort of thing. Not really great towards the whole redemption look." Not that he would touch Adam with a ten foot pole. Ever. Even if the guy was kind of hot. He hopped over the bar, two of his arms rummaging through the many bottles of alcohol that Husk kept stored up, while one of his other free arms grabbed a glass. He was listening to Adam talk, one of his many other free arms basically mocking the angel, puppeteering his hand in a display of 'blah blah blah', because he really didn't give a fuck what this guy thought. Not after what he had done to himself and his friends. He poured an extra strong double of gin and tonic, finally leaning against the bar, far enough away from Adam, but closer than he had been. Angel and boundaries? Non-existent, typically. But he also wasn't in the mood for a fight today. He'd already experienced that with fucking Valentino earlier. "If yeh' didn't think it was all that great, ah' don't think yeh' would have fought so fuckin' hard tah' make sure that none of us could be redeemed." He pointed out, sipping at his drink in amusement. "Besides, anything has tah' be better than this shithole." He was certain of that, and he wasn't going to let Adam take that away from him. Hope had been something that had started to drive the hotel. "Either way, yeh're stuck here now asshole, so might as well at least try tah' get along with us, yeh' hear?"

With his chin propped on knuckles, the talons below give a flex from forefinger to the last crooked tip and then back again as if the mustered mirth he's met with is but a scuttling roach (heaven knows this dump had em) that had yet to pass by close enough for him to squash with a firm ram of the wrist. Of course, he's technically supposed to play nice to match the whole theme of the place, right?

Yeah right. This was temporary residence until that buffering TV fuck could figure his busted helmet out enough to fashion it back together again. After all, he's not keen on showing his face around hell after all the mass genocide, but hey...it wasn't like hellizens weren't out committing mass murder and other deplorable acts in the brimstone streets on the daily; they could stay hypocrites and mad for all he cared. "Lucky to miss a blowie from a professional whore? I mean, you're not exactly selling yourself as relatively STD-free here, now are ya?" And he's not exactly selling himself as lacking in all the cunt he's providing as a so called 'dickmaster', but hey! That's equality for ya.

As the sinner scrambles over the bar, he considers the amount of arms all performing their own duties, including mocking him and makes a note of which one for whenever he gets the opportunity to twist it, a smug twist of his lips settling at the thought. Nudging the lid of his glass against his lips in a notably awkward fashion (still accustomed to ingesting liquids and the like via a face shield and a well timed, mouth shaped portal) the man makes it a point to annoyingly slurp the last bit of the potent Pepsi before jangling the leftover ice around, which he showed no signs of stopping until there was more liquid to be leeched.

"Spoilers, slutbag: hell is generally the end of the road. Always has been. No one's fighting to keep you here. You and the rest of them chose to be. Not such a great gift- that free will, huh~?" Neither is the persistent sound of ice jangling, but it's what he's getting. "Nothing's ever actually free. Somebody always pays the price..." With a shrug, he leans into his knuckles more, considering just how many of Lilith's last batch of his seed surrendered amalgamations were still scuttling around, blissfully unaware they'd been thrust into a half aware sentience just to fall to the concentrated fury of a creator that cared as little for them as his own.

Maybe God was down here after all.

"There's a lot more to this shit than any of you realize, but be my guest thinking otherwise. Forgive me if I don't make like your landlord and queef a rainbow." Though he will abandon his instrument of half melted ice in favor of shifting a suddenly summoned axe in his lap where he could busy his talons with tuning it with tinkering twists and occasional plucks. "Come to think of it, wasn't that the plot twist of... oh yeah. Season five. 'Taste the Cumbro?'"

[agirlandherquill]

the calendar project - day 7

tell you what, never mind autocorrect, my war is now with the save as draft button (yes it probably is my fault for not reading it when i click, instead of checking beforehand, but i was in a rush, on a roll, writing deadlines to meet and whatnot) but here's what i wrote (and thought i posted) yesterday!

daily page count: 3

time spent: 45 mins (squished it in during a busy day, ended up writing more than I expected)

here's todays pages! (this is technically the start of chapter two, so woo, progress)

She was drowning, but unlike a bath, she had no edges to seize, to cling to, to haul herself away from danger, all she had was Reid, but he was nowhere to be found, she clung to her glass of water for dear life, each gasp of air only slightly longer than the last.

Enjoy the party. Reid’s parting words left her wanting to tear her hair out. Her fury turned her mouth dry, she took a sip of her water, making it halfway through ingesting the liquid before a hand settled on her shoulder. Instead of having a coughing fit then and there and making a scene, she willed herself to swallow the rest of the water, breathe, and see who had decided to bother her.

God save me, Danvers.

“I’ve been searching for you half the night Miss Mirenna!” Danvers’ exclamation made her cringe, the copper-haired gentleman beamed at her, his suit was abysmally over-the-top with an eye-watering green jacket, I can’t take my eyes away no matter how much it pains me, my word, who was his tailor? She met his friendly brown eyes with a polite smile. “And luckily for me, you’ve found me.”

Her eyes sought out Reid, Finally, he had stolen her spot from earlier, and from the curious perch he watched her. That smug little- Reid inclined his head and she glared into her glass, fixing her attention on anyone but Danvers.

Let him take the hint, for once. Please. Once.

He took her glass out of her hand, the casual audacity in how he did it made her teeth grind. He appeared not to notice. “What do you say you and I find a place to chat? Somewhere with a little more peace and quiet.” Her spine stiffened as his hand slid from her shoulder to the base of her spine, pressing against her bodice to lead her in a direction she saw fit. He handed her glass to a waiter in passing and she took the opportunity to glare at Reid, but the window was empty. He’s good at disappearing. I don’t like it. But as irritated as she was, a chat was the least of her worries, a chat she could handle. 

Out of the ballroom the courtly chatter died away, leaving her hearing the disturbing rustle of her gown sliding between Danvers’ fingers as they walked, his hand still at her back. She said nothing as he led her to one of the disused studies a short ways up from the ballroom, in the opposite direction to where she would much rather be, at her treasured library.

The study was lit well by a single candle blazing away on the central desk, the shelves on each wall were bare. No ledgers or books to be found here. Nothing but blank wooden shelving for me to stare at, lovely. 

She flinched at the sound of the door closing, the latch slid quietly into place but it rang in the silence, humming in her ears.

“Danvers?” She watched him walk from the door to the desk where she leant, her palms flat against the wood, hoping the coolness of it would soothe her. “I suppose ‘chat’ was the wrong word, but I really was hoping for privacy.”

His long strides caught her too quickly, her neck twinged with the effort of straining back to look him in the eye. She was used to people towering over her, most did, Isolde was not the tallest by any means, but she was less used to being loomed over, which Danvers did, forcing her spine to dig into the edge of the desk to put some distance between them. “Whatever for?”

“I’m the most eligible man out there, and you, you are-”

“Uncomfortable with compliments? Severely.” 

Her curt reply sparked something in his eyes, “You have no need to pretend around me Isolde. I know exactly what you’re thinking.” 

I very sincerely doubt it, but let’s see where this goes. “Oh?”

“What else would it be?” His fingers brushed against her waist and she jolted, her palms forced the desk back and she moved away. “Danvers, you misunderstand. This is-” His fingers wrapped around her throat, making her stumble back against the desk with a thud that sent pain sparking through her hip. “Do not make me out to be a liar Isolde, or a fool,” Danvers’ vicious snarl caught her off-guard, he had always been friendly, over-eager certainly, but nothing like this. “I know! I know you like to pretend, but you like me, you do, I’ve seen the way you look at me.” 

Who does he think he is? I have been polite. I have been cordial as much as I can tolerate to be. I have been nice. And what does it get me?

“Danvers, calm yourself.” She touched his arm, hoping he would heed her touch if not her words. If he keeps this up it will mark, and that is not a conversation I wish to have with anyone. He eyed his hands, then her face, and let go. “Very well, but can’t you see? We’re alone now. You can let yourself have a good time.”

“A good time?” She asked, taking in one breath, then another, “A good time?” She barked out a laugh and headed for the door, her fingers brushed the handle before being ripped away, her other arm leading her in a painful jerk as Danvers pulled her back. Her shoes slid along the smooth study floor and she reacted rashly, almost on impulse, letting her momentum carry her arm to slap him in the face. He staggered, touching his cheek, and reached for her, “Isolde. Please-”

She flung her hands up, halting his approach. “If you so much as look at me again, or even consider bringing a hand anywhere near me, rest assured you will not be keeping it.”

“Isolde, come on. It’s me.” He moved again, He’s lucky that I have restraint, but it’s wearing thin. “Don’t force me Danvers.” She snapped at him. Last chance. His approach continued and his arm for her waist once more. Isolde sighed and caught his hand, gripping his fingers by the knuckles, she twisted herself and applied pressure to her hold, hearing the pop of his knuckles as she dislocated them from the joint, then she let him go. Danvers yelped but still, still, he tried to grab her. She anticipated it, feeling the movement of air along her arm. She twisted and punched him flat in the nose, he cried out, tripping over himself, and she very nearly lost her temper.

“I warned you. Now get out.”

He left, his disgustingly green coattails trailing behind him. 

Her knuckles were warm, distantly aching as she buried her face in her hands. This will not go down well. Her wallowing was reluctant, but necessary. Reluctant, but interrupted.

By a clap.

A loud, continuous sound.

Clapping.

She turned slowly and lifted her face, horror threatening to freeze her body, her hands fell behind her back and she clutched them tightly to keep herself from shaking. 

Standing at a second door to the study, one neither she or Danvers had realised was open, was Reid. 

[the-rushit-mind]

Eco-Friendly Products and Practices: How to Go Green in 2023

Eco-friendly products and practices are those that have a minimal or positive impact on the environment. They help conserve natural resources, reduce waste, prevent pollution, and protect biodiversity. Eco-friendly products and practices are not only good for the planet, but also for your health, well-being, and wallet. By going green, you can improve your quality of life, save money, and contribute to a more sustainable future.

But how can you go green in 2023? What are some of the best eco-friendly products and practices that you can adopt in your daily life? In this blog post, we will share some tips and ideas on how to become more eco-friendly in 2023. Whether you’re a beginner or an expert in green living, there’s something here for you. Let’s get started!

Eco-Friendly Products: What to Buy and What to Avoid

One of the easiest ways to go green is to choose eco-friendly products over conventional ones. Eco-friendly products are those that are made from natural, organic, recycled, or biodegradable materials. They are also designed to last longer, use less energy, and produce less waste. Eco-friendly products can help you reduce your environmental footprint and save money in the long run.

Here are some examples of eco-friendly products that you can buy in 2023:

- Reusable bags: Instead of using plastic bags that end up in landfills or oceans, use reusable bags made from cotton, hemp, or bamboo. These bags are durable, washable, and stylish. You can use them for grocery shopping, carrying your lunch, or storing your belongings.

- Reusable water bottles: Instead of buying bottled water that generates plastic waste and greenhouse gas emissions, use reusable water bottles made from stainless steel, glass, or silicone. These bottles are safe, hygienic, and leak-proof. You can fill them with tap water or filtered water and enjoy fresh and clean water anytime, anywhere.

- Reusable straws: Instead of using plastic straws that harm wildlife and pollute the environment, use reusable straws made from metal, silicone, or bamboo. These straws are easy to clean, carry, and use. You can sip your favorite drinks without worrying about ingesting harmful chemicals or hurting the planet.

- Bamboo toothbrushes: Instead of using plastic toothbrushes that take centuries to decompose, use bamboo toothbrushes that are biodegradable and compostable. Bamboo toothbrushes have natural antibacterial properties and soft bristles that are gentle on your teeth and gums. You can also find bamboo toothbrushes with charcoal-infused bristles that help whiten your teeth naturally.

- Organic cotton bedding: Instead of using synthetic bedding that contains harmful chemicals and dyes, use organic cotton bedding that is soft, breathable, and hypoallergenic. Organic cotton bedding is made from cotton that is grown without pesticides or fertilizers. It is also dyed with natural or low-impact dyes that are safe for your skin and the environment.

- LED light bulbs: Instead of using incandescent or fluorescent light bulbs that consume a lot of energy and emit heat and mercury, use LED light bulbs that are energy-efficient and long-lasting. LED light bulbs use up to 80% less energy than conventional light bulbs and last up to 25 times longer. They also produce a bright and natural light that is easy on your eyes.

These are just some of the eco-friendly products that you can buy in 2023. There are many more options available in the market for every aspect of your life. When buying eco-friendly products,

By - the_rushit_mind

[rubyalice231]

Vidalista 20: Make Your Private Moments Beautiful

What is the Vidalista 20 Tablet?

Vidalista 20mg Tadalafil high is a powerful medication used to treat male dysfunction issues and furthermore assists with expanding blood stream to the penis area. It's created through Centurion Lab. It's comprised of Tadalafil which is a successful PDE5 inhibitor. Vidalista Tadalafil pills are FDA supported and are suggested by a clinical specialist and ED expert. It is likewise called Cialis, Tadalafil is essential for the PDE5 inhibitors group of. This dynamic fixing further develops blood stream in the penile region.

On the off chance that you're not having sufficient erection, then Vidalista 20 tablets help to work on the progression of blood to the penis district and get a better erection over the intercourse period.

How Does Vidalista 20 Work?

If guys can't accomplish or keep a palatable erection for any sexual exercises men's improvement prescriptions, for example, Tadalafil Vidalista 20 mg can be extremely useful. Vidalista is important for a class of medications known as phosphodiesterase inhibitors. It treats male ineptitude and Erectile dysfunction issues by assisting muscles of the male sex organs with unwinding. Vidalista 40 , Vidalista 60

This considers a more prominent progression of blood to the privates, and thusly permits guys to remain more erect for longer terms of time in sexual experiences. Clients should have sufficient sexual excitement to permit the full impact from the substance to feel, and to feel an improvement in erectile execution.

What Is The Purpose Of Vidalista 20?

Centurion lab Vidalista tablet are otherwise called "End of the week Tablets" which used to keep a firm erection all through the intercourse period. The tablet is made in the Centurion laboratories. The tablets can be taken for 30-an hour preceding a movement of any sort. Find out about the measurements with the goal that you can converse with your family specialist or Ed Advisor.

The pill will be successful in no less than 30 minutes after ingestion and hence, taking it something like 30 minutes preceding your sexual exercise is suggested. Vidalista 20 will be productive for six hours in the wake of taking it, so consuming a tablet each daily is suggested. Moreover, you ought to counsel a doctor preceding starting the program on this prescription.

There are generally various questions and fantasies that are ruminating in the personalities of clients while picking the right pill. We will check out at a couple of them.

How Powerful Is Vidalista 20 For EDS?

Vidalista is a medication endorsed to treat Erectile dysfunction (ED). A medication contains its dynamic fixing Tadalafil which is a PDE5 (PDE5) inhibitor. The viability for Vidalista for ED is different for every individual be that as it may, it has been exhibited to be compelling for a significant measure of guys. In clinical examinations, outstanding improvement in erectile capabilities was seen in 60 to 70 percent of men who had Vidalista. It is fundamental to remember that this medication may not be proper for everybody and ought to be used exclusively under the oversight of a doctor.

Dosages And Use Tadalafil Vidalista 20

The measurements of this medication should be checked and taken according to the guidance of a doctor. A portion of 10 mg is the most widely recognized measurements utilized by patients Notwithstanding, picking the one suggested by your doctor is encouraged.

You can involve the Vidalista 20 tablets related to food or not, be that as it may, you should drink basically a glass of water to build how much it consumed in your body. It is feasible to take the pill for something like 30 minutes as well as somewhere around 10 hours earlier any sexual action you intend to participate in, and you ought to play foreplay for it to be compelling. Vidalista isn't prescribed to be taken at least a time or two every day, and the day to day utilization of this item is exceptionally exhorted against.

Assuming you've taken the medication in abundance it is suggested that you promptly look for clinical consideration since it could bring about grave results. Vidalista ought not be brought with grapefruit juice or liquor since they can are both a medication related connection, changing how it works and can briefly frustrate your capacity to get and keep an erection.

Is VIDALISTA the same as VIAGRA?

Both Vidalista and Viagra erectile dysfunction tablets

Viagra is more costly than Vidalista tablet Vidalista gives similar impacts precisely like Viagra with no regrettable side adverse consequences. Tadalafil 20mg works better compared to Viagra

What are the Impacts Effects of Vidalista 20 ?

Migraine Flushing Stomach upset Torment toward the back Muscle torment

Advice & Warning: Vidalista

There are a couple of alerts and guidelines that are regularly given by a doctor or client while examining any prescription or giving a warning for the patient. Coming up next are recorded beneath:

Keep a solid and sound lifestyle. Attempt to get great rest and eat a satisfactory and adjusted diet. Doing some exercise is additionally suggested. It is prescribed to talk with a doctor before beginning the course to guarantee that you know about the body's prerequisites. Try not to go too far. Try not to take the pill and bite it; all things considered, flush it out with an unfilled glasses of drinking water. The capacity to stand by is a key component. Assuming you are taking this drug, you should stand by 30 minutes before you can see the results. Sexual feeling is essential. On the off chance that you don't have a touch of energizer, not so much as a medication will bring you results. One ought to try not to eat food sources that are high in fats while taking this prescription since they can influence the viability for the substance. Try not to drink and smoking since it can hinder the impacts of the pill.

Storage

Store Vidalista in its unique bundling Ensure your drug is away from youngsters' range Try not to utilize the pills past the expiry date which is recorded on the bundling. Place the tablets in a compartment that is kept at a temperature of 30 degrees Celsius, a long way from dampness

[lovelymagicbutterfly]

Guidelines For Concentration And Memory Improvement

Individuals who tend to forget even the smallest of details face a lot of problems in their day to day lives. But don't forget that there are so many ways through which visit site here you can improve upon your memory.

Experts state that if you want to remember something then you have to concentrate on it for at least 8 seconds. This is one of the main reasons why every memory expert places a lot of stress upon the importance of adopting exercises for concentration. In essence, one of the biggest reasons behind not remembering something is due to the fact that you never actually stored it within your memory at all. Everybody will sometimes take of their glasses or drop their keys and then finally not be able to remember their location. Thus, you end up wasting so much time just trying to figure out where you put them. Now if you'd been paying concentration, you would never have lost the keys or the glasses in the first place. The real reason behind forgetting things is a weak memory which is the result of mostly lack of concentration. One of the most basic methods of improving one's memory is to just pay concentration to what's happening around you.

Therefore, you're now aware of the fact that concentration improves your memory which is why it is a wise idea to learn proper concentration augmenting techniques. Let's define two basic methods of accomplishing the task. Either enhance your concentration powers or simply just make some necessary adjustments within your daily environment in order to improve your memory. However, changing your environs is not universally applicable and will only work in some situations.

You'll be surprised to understand that your brain is consistently changing as you grow older. That is why it is a sound idea to ingest new stuff every day since it strengthens your neurons and brain connections. Techniques for concentration will only work after you have made efforts to change the actual shape of your brain. There are many brain power increasing activities that you can include in your everyday routine in order to achieve this. Some examples are:

Meditation

Meditation is an activity that should be accomplished both before going to bed and when getting up in the morning. Meditation is a sure shot way of boosting the concentration powers of your brain.

Sleep

People who don't sleep well find it difficult to concentrate. You should go to sleep at a time which is appropriate, allows you to sleep without any interruptions and for a long duration of time. Your mattress needs to be new and well designed in order for you to sleep on it properly every night. Also, don't place your television in your room; televisions are a nuisance for folks who require sleep and badly.

Another way of improving your concentration is to say out loud everything that you do. As an example, shout out "I'm placing my car keys on the dining table" and this will help you remember. Television, radio and other such appliances can also distract your concentration making it difficult for you to remember things which is why it is a good idea to remove them from your presence when doing something important.

[weightlosspill]

12 weight loss tips

1. Never miss breakfast. Not eating breakfast will not aid in weight loss. You can be deficient in important nutrients and end up nibbling more frequently throughout the day because of hunger. 2. Consume routine meals Eating regularly throughout the day promotes calorie burning. Additionally, it lessens the desire to munch on fatty and sugary meals. Learn more about eating healthfully. 3. Eat a lot of fruit and vegetables. Fruit and vegetables are high in fiber, low in calories and fat, and all three of these nutrients are necessary for effective weight loss. They are also loaded with vitamins and minerals. 4. Be more energetic The secret to weight loss and weight maintenance is exercise. Exercise has a variety of positive health effects and can aid in burning off extra calories that are difficult to shed through diet alone. Find a habit you can fit into your schedule while enjoying. 5. Consume a lot of water Sometimes people mistake hunger for thirst. When you actually only need a glass of water, you risk ingesting unnecessary calories. 6. Consume high-fiber meals Foods high in fiber can help you feel satisfied, which is ideal for weight loss. Only foods made from plants contain fiber, including fruit and vegetables, oats, wholegrain bread, brown rice, pasta, 7. Examine food labelling Choosing healthier selections might be made easier if you know how to read food labels. To determine how a certain item fits into your daily calorie allocation on the weight-reduction plan, use the calorie information. 8. Use a smaller plate, please. You may consume lesser servings by using smaller dishes. You might be able to gradually get used to eating smaller quantities without feeling hungry by utilizing smaller dishes and bowls. Eat slowly and stop eating before you feel full since it takes the stomach 20 minutes to communicate with the brain that it is full. 9. Avoid banning food. Don’t exclude any meals from your diet, especially ones you enjoy. Food bans will just increase your desire for them. As long as you don’t over your daily calorie limit, there is no reason you shouldn’t occasionally indulge in a treat. 10. Don’t have junk food on hand Do not keep junk food, such as chocolate, cookies, chips, and sugary fizzy beverages, in your house to prevent temptation. Instead, choose healthful snacks like fruit, unsweetened or unsalted popcorn, uncooked oat cakes, unsalted rice cakes, and fruit juice. 11. Drink less alcohol A typical wine glass can have the same number of calories as a chocolate bar. Drinking excessively over time can easily lead to weight gain. 12. Make a meal plan. Plan your breakfast, lunch, supper, and snacks for the week while staying inside your daily calorie limit. It could be beneficial to create a weekly shopping list.

[themanicgalaxy]

SPN 5X1 Sympathy for the Devil

THUNDERSTRUCK OPENS SEASON 5 OH HELL YEAH

aight, lucifer's back, i got six episodes to catch up on(two weekends) AND YOU'VE BEEN THUNDERSTRUCKKKKK

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT EFFECT AHAHAHA

yeah I see why tumblr likes it, it's the mainstream version of itself

not that that made sense, but IT'S SEASON 5 TIME!

oh this is a NICE lighting effect?

oo interesting transition?

zachariah?

ok so the beam kills the plane ?

why are they on the plane ?

ah yes the late 2000s sure were a Fun Time

PLEASE FUCKING TALK TO EACH OTHER I SWEAR TO GOD I AM SO TIRED OF THIS

YES IT'S MY COPING MECHANISM TOO, BUT I'M NOT HUNTING THE DEMONS

CHUCK FUCKING SCARED ME DAMN

no Sam's Totally not a Demon it's Fine

Cas? Dead?

boy you sure can try

Exploded Cas HAHAHA HE HAS A MOLAR IN HIS HAIR

oh good it's zach

"it's apocalypse now" feels like a reference to...apocalypse now heh

the vessel oho the planting and payoff

O H TH AT WAS C L E V ER DEAN!

WHERE IS C A S WHERE IS THE ANGEL

does...Dean know about Ruby

hey they said the roll credits

o Dean doesn't know about the voicemail

ASFPHSIHF i hate you people

ah Dean the "let's move on let's move on let's move on"

Oh ok the vessel

WAIT THEY NEED CONSENT RIGHT THE POINTED SET UP

hoh that is a lot of blood

IS BECKY A W*NCESTIE SHIPPER WHAT THE F U C K

well this is a very nice portrayal of fans

jesus christ

i mean to be fair, there ARE some fans like this but still bad

what the actual HELL she's in the season premiere?

this is Strange

please god don't bring up the Fanfics

i do like the critique of their own show at least briefly

although it's being made fun of...?

"can you quit touching me?"

scene change scenE CHANGE

SWORD OF MICHAEL

ah macguffin plot

GO DO R E S E A R C H

Dean really wants to Not Think About it

Bobby..?

B O B B Y ?

it's not Bobby, it's not, it can't be

NO HE LOOKS SO SAD

look I get it they need support, but not being coddled is important

some middle ground ig

CLEVER DEAN ! C L E V E R!

yep! not Bobby!

felt WAY too out of character

MEG! HOLY HELL I DIDN'T KNOW SHE SHOWED UP THIS EARLY

MEGMEGMEGMEG

AND IT SOUNDS LIKE HER! OH MY GOD

oo villain hero banter god I love having that

the flirting thing is weird ok fine do your fetish thing

BOBBY?

B O B B Y ?

NO ! NONONO! ARE YOU KIDDING ME THERE'S NO WAY

goddamn i love Meg

what the FUCK happened to exorcisms yall

aww the baby crying woke mina awwwwww

she's a protective fucker

oh the bloody crib imagery is FUCKED it's VERY nice

oh thank GOD they take him to a hospital

I thought castle said CASTIEL lol

also NICE imagery

ok lots of dead guys

"oh thank god the angels are here" pfftahaha

yeah Dean's the michael sword whoopsie

DID YOU FUCK THE MICHAEL SWORD CASTIEL

"wad of insecurity and self loathing" pfft

why didn't they just say vessel

ANGEL CONDOM

oh the Bang and instant leg break is nice

AH CONSENT

C L E V E R D E A N

"it is written" free will babyyyy

ah uses Bobby as leverage

jeez

altho angel power is INTENSE

"are we having fun yet" OH HELL

seriously hbo spn would be INTENSE body horror what do you mean no lungs

C A S! CASCAS!!!

HE'S ALIVE! I MEAN I KNEW BUT CAS

INTENSE CURLY HAIRED CAS

S I G I L PROTECTIVE S I G I L

"no i carved it into your ribs" THE DELIVERY AHAHAHA

just doesn't answer ok then

~I'm an angel~

at least he flagged lucifer, I was hoping someone would

the angels rly do be "gaslight gatekeep girblossing"

i do find a lucifer plot line played straight interesting! who'd a thunk

ok seriously, it was TOO easy to find someone wronged by god

oo the don't lie thing, that's neat

jeez, they rly had the budget of Nothing

Bobby oh my God

THE GED QUOTE! THAT WAS THIS!

"I got no idea, but I got a GED and a give em hell attitude, we'll figure it out" HAHAHA I L O V E H I M

look at least SOMEONE doesn't cut them off

"I deserve a medal for this" pffttt

hey they're framing Dean taller

ALSO HIS HAIR IS A BIT FLUFFY! GOOD! IT LOOKS GOOD!

"I don't think we can ever be what we were"

this feels Real and I HATE it

and they split up with a SHOT OF THE LAMP

god the glass is chewy tonight

1. God+Disillusionment. Ok here's the thing: the whole scene where Lucifer didn't even have to do much to convince Nick? I think? to go against God feels important. Like it feels as if God has abandoned us, and we want to get back at him. Absent Father narrative, mixed with a bit of ye old exceptionalism(you're all mighty and all powerful, why didn't you help me). It...obviously I don't know who's idea it was to go this way, or what lens they were viewing this through specifically, but that convincing(and what Nick believed so he could let himself be convinced) felt important both in the context(vague 2009, after the crash) and in the story. I feel like this theme will show up later.

2. clever Dean. Dean got like three clever moments this episode, and a good pep talk. And I really like the trade off! The "let's not think about it until it blows over I'm totally fine ahaha" fucks him up when it comes time to deal with his relationship with his brother, but this desire to move forward(and the actual intelligence to think ahead like damn) helped them actually get to places. and at the end, he does a pep talk! he's learned how people work a bit! like the nuance and the showing off his good skills makes me happy.

3. lucifer played straight. So I realize this came out like...a decade before the Lucifer show. but having a Lucifer that has quiet daddy issues and have them be played entirely straight wasn't something I thought would be as compelling as it was. The actress for Lucifer was very good, which probably helped, but to have Lucifer be Sincere(seeming) and actually believe in his point was interesting and a bit refreshing

also i liked that the name was recognized, feels more realistic

4. probably need a callout. Like I get it, they're the main heroes, they did their best, but they DEFINITELY needed a call out or at least a chat that wasn't the End of the episode. They did their best, I get not siding with the angels, but SOMETHING has to be done. You can't build the "everything is shit" narrative and say idk we're probably gonna fix it lol in the framing device you have set up. Where's ur power fantasy? what are you gonna do with him?

5. Bobby. Listen, I love Bobby. I can tell how you know it's just a Bit off. And while they did need a bit of chewing out, I do appreciate how Bobby's like "priority one, make sure they know I'm not gonna leave" like it makes him a good dad, if a not great hunter, and I really like that. I like how Bobby's weak spot is surrogate kids, that makes me happy.

7. the confrontation. Ok listen, I need that in there. The framing(like I said, they're framing Dean as a bit taller than they would in later seasons(possibly as writers shift their focus from Sam to Dean, a trend that seems to Keep Going)), it puts him a bit higher. The dialogue felt real, like to the point of, whether or not it was accurate to the story or not, it felt like two real family members talking. Like "I can't get rid of you, but we can't be what we were?" heartbreaking. I love glass. And yeah, that final shot of Dean walking away from Sam is pretty obvious HOWEVER Dean is shot with a lamp. It either means Cas or just the angels in general, and whether that's a "he's the michael sword and Sam's lucifer(invoked in this convo)" type thing or a "cas is on Dean's side, and as Cas is in the right so is Dean" type thing, it's Interesting to look at. And it's SUPER deliberate, this cANNOT have been done on accident.

8. Second Meg supremacy, first Ruby supremacy

ighty night night time to go pry the kitty off of me

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

💎 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Clockwork Syrisquito
Wondrous item, rare (requires attunement) ___ This mechanical insect is three inches long and has the resemblance of a mosquito. It has a pair of tiny wings that silently keep it aloft. It hovers up to 5 feet above the ground and does its best to stay at your side within your space. The syrisquito can enter and pass through another creature's space and doesn't provoke opportunity attacks. The syrisquito has a glass vial at its end that holds up to one ounce of liquid. You can use an action to command the syrisquito to ingest a potion or poison you provide, such as a "potion of healing" or basic poison, which is then stored in the attached vial. You can use another action to remove the glass vial from the syrisquito to retrieve its held contents or replace the vial. The syrisquito has 10 charges and regains all expended charges daily at dawn. While the syrisquito is within your space, you can use a bonus action to speak its command word to expend 1 of its charges and cause it to fly to a creature's space within 60 feet of you and inject the target with the entirety of the contents from the vial. If there are no contents in the vial, it siphons one ounce of the creature's blood instead. If the target is unwilling, it must succeed on a DC 15 Dexterity saving throw to avoid the syrisquito. The syrisquito then returns to your space. You choose whether the syrisquito's injection or siphoning is harmful or not each time you command it. If it's harmful, the creature takes 1d6 piercing damage from the syrisquito. ... Continued in the comment below! ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[izzabeean]

Chapter 1 : Things Never Change

pairing : fushiguro toji x fem!reader

warnings/tags : 18+, alternate universe - office, angst, fluff, smut, eventual romance, alcohol, falling in love.

genre : angst + fluff + smut

word count : 2,569

a/n :  I've re-written the preview making it the official chapter. It's quite honestly the same, just a couple of things added and edited to make transitions between scenes smoother. I'd like to get chapter 2 out soon since there's not much more added to this chapter, but alas, I don't know if I am capable of writing it by the end of this week (Sunday being the last day of the week). I'll try my best though.

I appreciate the kudos and bookmarks, please stay tuned for the series!! xx

18+ minors dni!!!

masterlist  |  ch. 1  | next >>

Condemnation. At what cost does the mind forget the daily ritual of self-punishment? Is it once the body has drunk all the rich desires, feeding off every last drop to find the essence of happiness?

Perhaps for the average man, but not for Fushgurio Toji.

On the contrary, poisoning his mind with stimulants such as alcohol and gambling just reminds him more of that useless entity he embodies. Even the talent he has to undress women he’s said only a couple of words to doesn’t mask the void he feels in his chest. He can’t forget. That is his weakness – his mind in the past and his present only hanging by a thread. There’s not much use for him in this world except for money and maybe the occasional body that he can fuck so he isn’t completely gone.

And yet, darkness surrounds him.

In a room, a tiny desk lamp illuminates his keyboard as Toji submerges himself further into his work. The clicking and clacking fill the room, a dull reminder that once again he is left alone in the office. He hopes that the overtime will bring his check out to a more satisfying sum, but it's always doubtful when his hunger for money doesn't stop. All he does is work and sleep.

Work. Drink. Sleep. Wake up. And do it all over again.

It’s all he’s ever done. All he’s ever known since he walked out on his family. Maybe working himself to the bone is the only sane thing he’s done his entire life. Or maybe he wasn’t man enough to own up to being a father. He tries not to think about it. The thoughts only haunt him, clouding his mind of what’s truly important at the moment.

Money. Drinking. Fucking. Sleeping…

He wakes himself up from nodding off at his desk and checks the time. 8:00 pm. It’s still too early even for a weekday night and he hopes his age isn’t wearing him down. He can’t be one of those people that go to bed earlier than midnight – no, that wasn’t something he would do. Instead, he should be heading to a bar.

So he turns off his computer and scoots out of his desk before turning the lamp off, the only light casting from the hall towards the elevators. He grabs his coat and makes his way out of the building. 

He craves the touch of whisky on his lips. Only the good stuff. He likes it neat – nothing but whisky in the glass. Malty flavors dancing on his tongue, the sting of the liquid running down his throat then warming up his chest. One of the best feelings he can have in a day.

The pub, a block down from the office, is his usual spot. He goes enough that he’s met every bartender and doesn’t even need to order when he sits down at the bar. They give him a nod pouring the golden liquid into a crystal glass and Toji licks his lips. Not even an exchange of words – just the way he likes it. 

Taking a swig of the smokey liquor, his eyes light up at the ingestion of what can only give him peace of mind. He wishes he could just sit here forever, drinking every last drop of alcohol, it’s the easiest way to sulk in existence, the easiest way to forget. But down the bar, in his peripheral, a woman sits drinking alone. She’s chugging back a pint of beer, looking unusually rough, like she’s had a hard day. As she puts down the glass on the bar, she doesn’t look half bad; not quite his type but she will do. Slamming back the rest of the whiskey, he stands up walking toward the woman. She looks a bit startled by his appearance and it brings a spark to his eyes as he pulls the barstool out.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, sitting down next to the woman. Her lips slightly upturn to a smile to the offer and nods with a ‘sure.’

Everything after that goes quite fast for Toji. He doesn’t really remember the small talk they exchanged before both leaving the bar after a few drinks. All he remember’s is her offering to go to her place and getting a cab to her apartment that was halfway across the city. Boy, her cunt better be worth it, he thinks to himself. And it was. She did a good job sucking him off beforehand and when it was his turn, he tortures her clit just until she was about to come undone. But before she does, he grabs his cock and puts it inside her, a hiss exhaling past his teeth. The sex is quick as she hasn’t been one of his favorites, but he would be stooping fairly low to admit he had one. He has no right to. 

He snarls out a low groan as he ascends to his peak, finishing inside the stranger with his fingers almost bruising her hips. A euphoric sensation fills his mind, much better than any glass of whiskey.  Pulling out, he lays beside her on the bed, his mind high off the toxic dopamine. His chest is heaving as the woman curls up beside him, arm draped across his body and he can feel her starting to drift away into slumber.

Toji remains awake, waiting. Waiting for the moment she’s in a deep sleep, so much so that he can pry himself away from her affection and leave. And he does without a peep, doubtful he will ever see her again.

All is quiet in the city as the winter chill tries to bluster through his jacket sobering him up. He walks down the street taking out a cigarette, striking a light to inhale the toxins. It’s about 2:00 AM now and he has to remind himself that he has to go to work in 6 hours. It’s too late for another drink, and it’s too late to wander around the streets. Plus, it’s unfathomably freezing and he needs to get back to his place.

Spotting a cab, he calls it over, taking out his personal ashtray to put out the cigarette. This was the part he always hated the most, the trek back home, wishing he could snap his fingers and be in his bed. It was also always a pain to pay for his drinks, pay for someone else's drinks, pay for the cab to their place and then pay for the cab back to his place. He isn’t made of money. Though sometimes he wishes he was.

His place is old and unkempt with the paint on the walls peeling and a mess on the floor making it difficult to find his footing where ever he steps. The growing pile of garbage, the atrocious scent upon walking in. It’s clear that Toji doesn’t care. And why would he when he has nothing left to lose?

Upon entering his apartment, his intoxication fades, his hormones settle, and he starts to feel the pressure building in his chest. The never-ending cycle persists with the company of his own thoughts and they just wouldn’t shut up. The constant reminder of his unremorseful indecency, his immoral transactions, and exchanges. There wasn’t a question – he knew he wasn’t a good guy, but at least he could still sleep at night

  Another day breaks and another unfulfilling eight hours are ahead of Toji at the office to temporarily distract him. Though he's running on caffeine and the smallest sip of liquor to energize him, his late-night endeavor doesn't stop him from honing in on his latest project. Of course, he could care less about it, but he knows if all goes well, a rewarding pay grade could potentially be talked about. And if he is driven by anything, it would have to be money. What could he possibly do with extra cash? The choices seem limitless. More alcohol. More gambling. More women. 

“Yo, Fushiguro,” a voice calls out forcing Toji to look up from his work. His co-worker, Shiu Kong, approaches him with a smile – an average build adult man with short spiked black hair and a thin mustache. “Heard you stayed here late last night. The director seems to be quite impressed.”

“I could care less what the director thinks,” Toji mumbles. “You know what I am here for.”

“Power? Your own office to complete your ‘private’ meetings?” Kong replies with a laugh.

"Didn't know I was that predictable," Toji snickers. His mouth twists at the thoughts of his carnal instincts evermore present picking up on Kong's joke about private meetings. What would it be like if he was the director? What would be the first order of business on his part? His current craving includes locking in his office door, blinds open with a breathtaking view of the city while he bites down on a women's inner thigh. She'll squirm and he presses her back firmly into his desk, teasing her aching cunt with his tongue.

“C'mon Fushiguro," Kong says, pulling Toji out of his appetizing daydream. "You’ve always been the same since I met you, you never change.”

“Likewise,” Toji jokes.

Kong and Toji go way back, even before working in the same office. They had lost touch at some point, as Toji began his descent into self-destruction after his wife died. But Kong eventually reached out to Toji, calling him by Zenin, his old family name to which he refuses to go by, and prefers Fushiguro. If it weren't for their friendship, Toji wouldn't be working, instead, he'd be searching for the odd job enough to get him by, without it being insufferable. And for that, Toji is eternally grateful. He won't say it, even so, he doesn't have to because Kong knows.

Toji and Kong's conversation pauses as a crowd of co-workers run across the room to the hallway leading to the elevators.

“What’s gotten into them?” Toji asks.

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Kong starts, looking over to Toji who shakes his head. “They’ve hired someone new in HR.”

“Another? Can’t seem to keep them around here, can they?” Toji utters.

“I suppose," Kong agrees, crossing his arms against his chest. "But rumor is she’s fairly attractive.”

Toji raises an eyebrow.

Commotion from the crowd causes everyone to burst, running back to their desks. The entire office is silent as a hushed ding sounds, announcing the elevator has arrived. The clack of heels hits the floor as low chatter sounds in the background. Toji and Kong wait as the sound of heels comes closer, unsure what to expect. A tension fills the room until the voices reveal two familiar faces - colleagues that were late for work. 

“Guess we won’t know,” Kong sighs.

Toji returns back to his work, unamused. Rumors like that always happen here and it ends up being some deranged old man. It’s obvious people just like to talk, it’s the most exciting thing that happens here. And yet, part of him hoped that the rumor was true.

He’s working late again and he’s the only one in the office. He can feel the end of the project just at the tip of his fingers while typing, but it’s a Friday evening and he’s run out of motivation. He sighs tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. 

“I need a drink,” he says before turning his desk lamp off and putting on his coat. He nonchalantly walks to the elevator and pushes the button whilst thinking about ending the week with a more expensive whiskey, and maybe hitting up a club instead, somewhere where there are lots of women dressed in tight clothing.

“Good evening,” a soft voice sounds breaking Toji away from his thoughts. He looks beside him and sees …

You.

You’re standing straight, clutching your bag handle as it rests on your shoulder. There’s a slight pout on your lips and your brows furrow into a frown, which makes Toji wonder if you’re just trying to look intimidating or you’re actually in an unpleasant mood. He’s never seen you around the office before, trying to put together if you work in another department, or you’ve just gone unnoticed until now. Yet, he knows he would notice someone like you walk by.

“Hasn’t your mother taught you it’s rude to stare,” you say sensing his gaze, eyes still fixed on the elevator. Toji’s a bit shocked by the sharpness of your words, now recognizing the tenacity and attitude behind your appearance.

“Bold of you to assume I actually have a healthy relationship with my family,” he grins, putting you in your place while hoping to edge you on more.

Your eyes turn to Toji with a look so chilling it's as if you're staring right into his soul.

“Sorry, I didn’t get a good look at you,” you exclaim flatly then analyze him from head to toe. Your eyes are caught in a gloom, filled with mystery and wonder, but a hint of uncertainty. You let out a snort. “You have family trauma written all over.”

Toji can’t believe you just said that. The mere distaste on your tongue upon just looking at him sends shivers down his spine. Of course, you weren’t blinded by his looks. Of course, you could see right through him for who he truly is. There’s something about the punishing look in your eyes like you can point out a good-for-nothing man in seconds. You didn’t seem to be like someone easily persuadable, nor like someone who’d get caught with the likes of him. 

When he doesn’t reply, you let out a little chuckle. “I’m kidding, you know.”

Toji's jaw locks before exhaling a scoff. “You should probably work on your tone.”

“I’ve been told that all my life and seems like I’ll never change.”

Your words are unexpectedly warm contrasting the initial impression you put on him and it's puzzling – you’re unreadable.

The elevator arrives and you take a step towards the lift then stop at the sounds of your phone buzzing. You take it out of your purse and then turn to Toji.

“Sorry, got to take this,” you breathe, turning back towards the office. “See you around, loner boy.”

You walk off, disappearing into the darkness of the office like an apparition. And at first, he didn’t believe you physically existed, especially with his eyes stinging from gazing at a computer screen all day. Then he thinks back to your interaction. He can’t help but be in awe of your personality. He’s never met someone like you before. 

As he walks into the elevator, he pushes the main floor button, and the doors slowly close. The smirk on your face stuck in his brain and he snickers under his breath.

In Toji's past, there's only been a specific type of woman that’s driven him crazy. By 'type', he means troubling women that can be a handful, blood boiling with stubbornness and unpredictability. By 'crazy', he means, submerged in irritation, to the point that he could rip all his hair out and not in a good, sexy kind of way. 

You are a different definition of crazy that’s only hit the surface. You're intriguing. Provoking. And he’s hungry.

But boy, did he not even know a sliver of what he was getting into..

masterlist  |  ch. 1 | next >>

[missluckycharms]

What is grief, if not love persevering?

Anon asked: heyyy! i love your writing sm💕 can you write angst please? make it hurt☹

Masterlist.

Summary: in which Harry is a single Dad due to losing his wife five years ago just shortly after their little love was born. Y/N has been there through it all. Harry has a rough night filled with whiskey and tears for his late wife.

A/N: this one is full of Angst and light hearted jokes to not get you too sad … sorry in advance, it’s a real tear jerker. Enjoy!!

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, talks of alcohol and drug abuse, talks of depression and very low mental health, curse words.

—

Five years.

It’s been five years since the passing of Myla Styles, the woman who granted Harry a wish he always wanted, the woman who loved him beyond all the galaxies and the woman who never saw any wrong in anyone, not even the worst of people, she always used to say “deep down, their heart is just aching” and Harry always admired that about her, she always looked on the positive side of life.

She held that same attitude as he held her hand in the hospital room, her fragile and pale body laying on the white bed as she peered up at him, oxygen tube in her nostrils and too many machines to count hooked up to her body, she was a shell of a woman, but she still had a heart of gold, the same hear Harry fell in love with when they were sixteen years of age. He hated seeing her this way, especially when their nearly one week old baby was resting in his other arm, fast asleep as her Mum clung to every bit of life she had left, but not once did her smile fade.

It all happened so fast, one day she was pushing life into the world and eight days later her life was being taken out of this world. There was complications with birth, the doctors and nurses finding undiagnosed ovarian cancer in her ovaries when they had to send her in for an emergency c section. Myla confessed she felt off, her body didn’t feel right, but she knew if something was seriously wrong, she wouldn’t risk the life of her baby getting treatment, she would rather her baby live over her. Doctors and nurses tried their best, trying to refer her to new hospitals to get stronger chemo if she wanted, but Myla refused, she told them to let her go, she was tired and she couldn’t stick around long enough to see if these treatments would work — she knew she was dying but Harry refused to believe it.

The day she left, was the day Harry felt like his whole world stopped, like the curtains were shut and he was left in a dark room with no way out. He promised Myla he would do his best to take care of their love, who they named Honey. He was dealing with the loss, Honey taking his mind off it a little and giving him reasons to pull himself from bed even on the days when he wanted to lay around and wallow in his own darkness — she pulled him out of those days, but two months later it all came crashing down on top of him.

He slipped into a wrong mind set, immediately knowing that Honey had to be taken away from him because he was living in fear he would hurt her, one day he woke up and he looked at her and just cried, he held her and he felt nothing, he didn’t even sympathise with her when she would cry for food, he felt nothing towards Honey and this scared him, terribly. Anne, his Mum took Honey in, letting Harry to relax and blow off some steam and get some help, his and Myla’s family all agreeing and saying he needed help and it wasn’t something to be ashamed about — he just lost his wife, they can’t lose him either.

Harry took the wrong route of clearing his mind and getting help, he found his therapy at the end of a bottle and a line of cocaine. He slipped into an endless spiral of week long benders and debts for drug money along with risking losing his home due to him quitting his high up job at his Fathers Law firm, he completely crashed and burned, he couldn’t live without her, he couldn’t stop his mind racing and the only way for it all to stop, and let him feel numb — was when he was drunk and high, passing out in every room of his home and in his garden, the neighbours finding him sometimes in their yard in a mess. They were the ones who got him help, they called up his family and they all rushed him off in an ambulance to get him sober and conscious again. Here is where he made the decision to sign himself into rehab, accepting the help the hospital offered and a few months later, he was out and clean, he stayed with his Mum until Honey turned one and that was the year Harry found his smile again, found his life and purpose again.

Looking back now, he doesn’t know how he ever made himself believe it was Honeys fault Myla was no longer here, he doesn’t know how he’s even alive because of all the drugs and alcohol he ingested every single night for three months solid, but he knows why everything turned around, it was his Angel looking down on him, guiding him and kicking him in the ass to get up and look after their little love, just like she asked him to do before she left, always look after himself and Honey.

It’s been five years since her passing, Harry is doing better than ever, he started working for his Dad’s company again and now he’s the president of the law firm, alongside his Dad who is the CEO, Harry being second in command and then being the CEO when his Dad retires from the firm. They kept their family home, even if it was just the two of them, they loved the home and it still felt like Myla was living here, her makeup still tucked away in her unused vanity in Harrys bedroom and her favourite paintings still hung up around the home. Harry even hired a nanny, she has been working for him for two years now, she’s even working alongside Harry in his office being his receptionist during the day and she’s Honeys afternoon and night nanny when she’s done in work and Honey is home from school.

Y/N is Honeys nanny, she takes care of the little lady and feeds her daily, even taking her to the playground and to the movies when Honey asked her could she go. She would do anything for Honey and Honey loved her endlessly, she loved the way she would allow her to eat sneaky chocolate bars after dinner every now and then and how she would always play dollies with her, kneeling down on the floor of the den and playing with the small girl until they were both in fits of laughter. Harry also adored Y/N, her passion for her job at the law firm along with her passion for looking after Honey is something he admires, she never once complains about being exhausted even though he can tell when she is, she didn’t have to think twice when Harry offered her the job as Honeys nanny, she knew the little one from her being in the office every now and then, and Honey was instantly drawn to her, the way she was so kind and the way she cared for Honey.

Tonight is a hard night for Harry, it’s Myla’s death anniversary and he’s been having a bad day, his mind racing and his heart breaking all over again, but this time he’s stronger, he’s able to power through until he could be alone and just let his emotions go, have a glass of whiskey and just cry a little flipping through old photo albums — he does this every year on her anniversary. Honey is tucked up in bed and he’s sat alone in the den on the sofa, the photo albums on his lap and his hand clutching a small glass of whiskey as he sips on it flipping through many photos from their wedding and from when they were teens and drunk in love in high school — so many memories can be attached to one person, and Harry knew one day they would be memories, but he didn’t know it would be so soon.

“Honey is fast asleep, left her door cracked open so she can shout if she- Harry? Are you okay?” Y/N stops suddenly, her eyes landing on her boss who was hunched over a photo album on the sofa, curtains drawn and the only light coming from a lamp beside a framed wedding photo of him and Myla on the table by the sofa.

“Yeah, thanks for putting her to sleep” Harry says weakly, not turning around which alarms Y/N, she’s seen him like this last year, she let him be as she was only new to it, but this year she’s determined to sit with him all night if he needs — he needs to have some company.

“That’s you?” She asks sitting next to him, Harry not moving or telling her to leave, he accepts her company as she looks down at the photo his eyes are laid upon — two teenagers at a party.

“Yeah, m’hair was a curly mess” he says with a low laugh, looking over the photo of a seventeen year old version of himself, smiling cheekily clutching a red solo cup and Myla wrapped under his other arm holding him around his waist, both their smiles wide and cheeky and their cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol in their bodies.

“I think it looks cute, pitty it’s not as curly now” she says with a light laugh, watching as his ring clad fingers turn the page, taking a sip from his whiskey as he goes.

“This was our prom, she made me wear a pink fucking bow tie — absolutely hated it” he laughs, the crinkles by his eyes evident as Y/N laughs along, looking down at the curly headed teenager in a black suit, white shirt and a bright pink bow tie, matching Myla’s floor length dress next to him, a shawl over her shoulders matching as the corsage around her wrist match the pink of her dress also.

“She hated that dress a year later, she was packing up for college and I was helping her when she found it, immediately burst out laughing” he says laughing loudly, remembering back at the memory he has, Y/N beside him happy at how joyful he sounds speaking of the memories.

“Oh here we go, Frat boy Harry!” Y/N says with a loud laugh, pointing down at a shirtless twenty year old Harry, backwards cap on his head and “Myla’s Bitch!” Wrote on his stomach in paint, two beer bottles in his hands and Myla on his shoulders cheering with her hands up in a red bikini, matching his swimming trunks and baseball cap.

“Some of the best years of m’life, raging parties and no more curfews, we were two hormonal teens absolutely smitten for one another” he says shaking his head with a laugh, his eyes bright as he flicks them over the photos ranging from Harry dancing, Myla being pushed into the pool by him and Harry passed out with a mustache drawn on him with Myla next to him holding the marker with a bright smile mid laughter.

The book is filled with their college days, to their graduation day from college, their photo in their first apartment, Harry on his first day of work and Myla on hers. They took photos of small things, but at the time they meant the world to them, they were milestones in their lives and they never wanted to forget them. Harry is forever grateful that Myla had an obsession with photography, otherwise he wouldn’t have these to look back on and hopefully show Honey one day what her Mum was like, even if she’s drunk and half naked in some of them at college parties.

Harry and Y/N are in fits of laughter, tears falling from their faces as Harry explains every single memory behind each photo, one photo containing a memory of Myla at her bachelorette party, Harry coming out as a stripper and giving her a lap dance as she slaps his ass and throws money all over her husband — that one will definitely not be shown to Honey. Harry is like a whole different person when he speaks about her, his laugh becomes louder and his eyes become brighter, he even ditched his whiskey after one glass to speak about his late wife, Y/N looking at him with pure amazement and proudness of how far he’s come, how he pulled himself from a hard time and carried on life for the sake of his baby girl. He’s truly inspirational in her eyes.

“It should be easier than this by now, right? Like I shouldn’t be still grieving” he says when their laughs and stories come to a stop, their eyes hooded with sleep and faces hurting from laughing.

“What is grief, if not love persevering? You were both childhood sweethearts, you’ve loved her since you can remember and you always will, she’s your whole world, of course you’ll still grieve her, you still love her, and that’s okay” Y/N blurts out, her words quick as she blabs on while Harry watches her, a smile on his face as she explains and accepts his feelings.

“Never knew you were Shakespeare” is all he says, she rolls her eyes laughing, slapping his bicep a little as he shuts the album, tucking it away in the drawer again before turning his focus back onto Y/N beside him.

“Seriously though, never tell yourself you’ve been grieving for too long, it’s okay to grieve and cry yourself to sleep some nights, I get that, I do. You lost a person who made you who you are, but don’t forget, you still have a little one that will need you to be the person who makes her who she is”

Harry thinks she’s amazing, she’s smart and she’s so empathetic towards everyone and anyone. She has a heart of gold and she will never let anyone explain hers or anyone else’s feelings for them, she always allows people to express who they are, heck, one night she brought Harry to a gym after hours, explaining how her brother is a trainer there and he gave her the keys on the condition that she does his laundry for a month, she let Harry rage out and punch the shit out of a punching bag one night because he was so upset. She cheered him on and he was smiling as he was punching towards the end, she helped him release the emotions that built up and would of lead him back down a dark path.

She’s been an Angel sent from above, he knows Myla sent her to him because of how much they’re alike, Harry knows for sure they were sisters in a past life, their kind hearts and understanding natures alike but they have their differences, Myla was very out spoken and loved to party but Y/N is reserved and would rather stay inside with a hot chocolate and her crosswords while watching TV, but that’s another thing that Harry finds fascinating about her, she’s younger than him by eight years, when he was her age he was partying.

“Thank you Y/N, I needed this tonight” he says with a smile, her own smile on her face as she nods leaning over to rub her hand over his in a comforting manner, the pair looking at one another as they soak in their presences.

“It’s getting late, I should go” she says realising it’s nearly midnight, Harry and her need to be in work tomorrow morning and Harry has to wake up to get his little lady ready for school also. He gets a bit saddened when she says this, he secretly wants to hear more of her own college years and her own prom much like he told her earlier.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow” he says with a smile, watching as she gathers up her bag and throws it over her shoulder, car keys now in her hand as she smiles at him once more before heading for the den door. She pauses and looks back at him, his eyes meeting hers as they hold contact for a few seconds before she speaks up.

“See you tomorrow, Harry”

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 6

Hannibal sits in on a regular conversation between y/n and her family. Y/n insists it could have gone worse.

⚠️Bigass trigger warning⚠️: Verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, blood, mention of alcohol abuse and suicide

Anna lived her life believing that she was the main character, constantly denying personhood to everyone around her. She was the romantic hero, and everyone else existed to forward her plot.

This metaphor was imperfect, however, because in all the books you'd read, the main character must overcome some kind of challenge. Nobody ever said no to Anna. Nobody ever criticized Anna. Nobody but you. So you were pigeonholed into the role of antagonist for it. You had to give her credit; growing up on the receiving end of her and Theresa's torture was a compelling villain origin story.

It was obvious that she only wanted you at her wedding to present her with an obstacle. Heaven forbid her story progress without some semblance of petty drama out of her control. She'd cornered you into a painful catch-22; you wanted vengeance, but you couldn't give her the satisfaction of having her special day ruined. What was your play? Ruin it just a little? Walk away?

These thoughts passed through your mind as you sat through the boring ceremony. You wanted to lean over and whisper everything to Hannibal, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. The vows seemed to drag on forever. Liam's English accent grated on your ears and you wished that he would just shut the hell up.

The ceremony concluded and you hoped to skip out on the reception with a purse full of mini cannolis, but fate had other plans. In a last-minute reach for some kind of scene, the blushing bride waved you over to the head table.

"[F/N]!" Anna shouted, with a big smile across her face. "Come on!"

You fought the urge to feel endeared by this. She looked too happy to be harmful. Your guard was all the way up as you and Hannibal approached the table.

Hannibal pulled a seat out for you while you studied Anna's expression. She fixed her doe eyes on Hannibal. You knew from experience that Anna had the same powerlust as grandma and Theresa. She was just better at keeping a lid on it.

"[F/N], you remember Liam?" Anna said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"Yeah." You nodded, scooting your chair up. "Nice to see you again, Liam."

"Good to see you again, too [F/N]."

"Liam is from Birmingham." She bragged, her smile somehow growing wider.

"Alabama?" You piped up before taking a drink from your water glass.

Every time you were forced to interact with Liam, she reminded you that the man with the strong and unmistakable English accent, was in fact from England. And every time, you slipped in the Alabama comment. It was never not funny.

"Liam, Anna," you said. "This is my fiance, Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"Many congratulations to you two." Hannibal offered.

"Dr. Lecter, thank you so much for coming." Anna returned. "And thank you for taking such good care of our precious [F/N]. I hope she's not giving you too much trouble. She was quite a handful growing up, but we made it work."

"Don't flatter yourself, you're only four years older than me." You hide your passive-aggressive jab beneath a smile. "You can't take credit for a job you didn't do."

Grandma always thought Anna's protective, borderline maternal behavior towards you was adorable. Of course, it disgusted you. You were little more than an accessory to her. A baby doll she could simulate motherhood with. But, in fairness to her, that was all you were to the adult in the house too. Monkey see, monkey do.

"So have you two set a date yet?" Grandma interrupted your thoughts, just trying to keep the tension down.

"Goodness, no." Hannibal answered. "Ours is a long-term engagement."

"Yeah." You added. "Not until I finish school."

"Well, it's not my fault you aren't expected to graduate on time." Grandma said into her wine.

You tightened your grip on your water glass. "Well, changing your major halfway through will do that."

"I'm just saying," Grandma continued. Whenever she was 'just saying' anything, you knew she was raring to stir things up. "If you had just stayed the engineering track, you wouldn't have to keep Hannibal waiting."

"Well!" Anna cut in, offended that the attention was off her for more than a minute. "Liam and I waited until after college."

"Yes, Anna," Grandma said dismissively, before turning back to you. "Y'know, Dr. Lecter here could probably tell you that psychologically speaking, women are more likely to drop out of college and become strippers when they change their majors?"

Now it was Hannibal's turn to down his entire glass of wine. "Ms. [L/N], where did you get that information?"

"Oh, it was an article I found on Facebook." Grandma answered. "I'll have [F/N] send you a link."

"Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal cleared his throat. "Are you familiar with the concept of misinformation?"

"Of course." She looked offended at the implication that she could possibly not know something.

"See, social media websites like Facebook are inundated with misinformation campaigns." Hannibal explained. "Your claim is not rooted in any psychological fact."

"Yeah, also," You cut in. You scanned the area for escape routes if your attempt to change the subject went awry. "There's a wonderful documentary about how Facebook misinformation campaigns targeted rural counties in England leading up to the Brexit vote."

"Oh, we have a funny story about Brexit." Anna interrupted, taking the bait, hook line and sinker.

Before she could recount the same boring anecdote about being at some regional chain restaurant when the vote was cast, Theresa and her husband joined the table.

"Sorry we're late," Theresa sat down. "Damage control is a twenty-four hour job. What were we talking about?"

"Misinformation." Liam said.

"Perfect timing." You muttered.

"Finally, all three of my girls are together again." Grandma threw her head back and rejoiced. "When was the last time we all got together? Just us four girls, huh?"

"Remember the day before prom, we all went out go get manicures?" Anna reminisced. "And we took pictures of us all dressed up?"

"Oh I remember." You scanned the area for any alcohol to ingest.

"Oh, this is so funny." Grandma laughed hysterically. "Dr. Lecter, did you hear this story? [F/N] went to the prom with a boy who had all along been using her to get close to Theresa! They got together that night! Dated for two whole years after that."

"I've heard an iteration of it." He said, looking over his shoulder. He flagged down a waiter who was holding a bottle of champagne. "Leave the bottle, please."

"Don't drink too much, [F/N]." Anna scolded. "Save some alcohol for the rest of us."

You made sure to maintain eye contact with her as you filled your flute to capacity. "Grandma's paying, isn't she?"

"Anna, baby," Grandma said, rubbing her temples. "It's fine. Let [F/N] drink herself silly. It's a party, right?"

"Wow," Theresa sneered. You knew exactly what she was going to say next. "Like mother, like daughter."

Everyone at the table had enough decorum to recognize that Theresa went too far. You crushed the champagne flute in your grip, letting shards of glass dig into your skin. You glared at Theresa, blood oozing from your palm and dripping onto the white tablecloth.

Wordlessly, Hannibal removed the offending glass from your hand and swaddled the affected area in a napkin. He put pressure on the cut, letting the blood absorb into the cloth.

"Is this the famed '[L/N] woman telepathy'?" Liam whispered to Anna.

"No, [F/N] is just mad because her mother was a drunk who killed herself." Anna thought she was being inconspicuous.

"This has been fun." You stand up from the table. "Really. Great way to spend a Saturday."

"[F/N], sit down..." Grandma ordered, sounding exhausted. "You know Theresa didn't mean that."

"No." You said, each syllable out of her mouth pushing you a step closer to your breaking point. "Y'know what? No. I don't have to put up with this anymore. Anna, congratulations. I hope you and Liam have many long years together."

You turned around to exit as quietly as you could, Hannibal at your side. Your grandmother, who somehow hadn't hit her daily allotted dose of confrontation, wouldn't have it.

"Dr. Lecter, tell [F/N] she's being unreasonable." Grandma pleaded.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. In his long-spanning career, he'd never once met a person as tone-deaf as Beatrice [L/N]. He kept his quiet composure as he slowly approached the table.

"Beatrice," he said, beckoning her to lean in. He whispered something into her ear that left her stunned and quaking.

You could hear your grandmother's hysterical sobs growing softer as Hannibal hurried you out.

"Keep pressure on that cut, love." He instructed, talking over the increasingly loud shouts of agony from the head table. "You'll need a few stitches."

Once you were far enough from the venue, you had to ask. "What on earth did you say to her?"

"Nothing that you don't already know." He answered, facing forward.

[baladric]

In re: "iana whump": What have you Done to him?!?

nothing that kaddison hadn't already done :')

The prelude to the Trio of the Sprites swirled to life with a breathy trilling of flutes in concert, settling into a mischievous dancing of violins and viols as Iäna opened his mouth.

Out came the barest beginning of his bird-bright voice, and then a jarring crack that split the sound in two and proceeded into a breathless silence from which he did not recover for two measures altogether. From behind him came a susurrus of tittering children’s voices and he felt his ears heating.

The conductor cut the orchestra off and raised his eyebrows at Iäna.

“Once more, Mer Pel-Thenhior,” he said, and Iäna nodded, leveling his ears. He cleared his throat—a nervous habit for which he had been often censured—and tried to sink again into the swell of the orchestra beneath his feet.

He breathed and began, and found the crack worse the second time. He pushed through it, flushing as irrational tears pricked at his eyes, and by the time the Second Sprite joined him, his breath had moved too high in his chest, his tone going thready and sharp with panic.

Because as sudden as this felt in the moment, everything had been off already. The entire past week, his voice had felt strangely thick in his ears, and he could barely manage twenty minutes of practice before he could no longer fight off a terrible tension in the muscles of his throat. His teacher had posited that he was developing a cold and had prescribed daily trips to the municipal baths to partake of the steam room, and the methodical ingestion of far too much garlic, about which his mother had grumbled even as she crushed three extra cloves into his dinner and roasted a whole head in the oven. While he wasn’t overly fond of reeking interminably of garlic, any singer worth their salt knew the healing magic of a surfeit of garlic, and so he wore the unfortunate perfume as proudly as a war veteran wears his medals.

Apparently, the magic had failed him.

The conductor released the cast to a half-hour break after the final strains of the Trio of the Sprites—the end of Act I—and Iäna made every attempt to slink away before anyone could speak to him. He clutched his water glass between both hands as he passed into the wings, sights set on the stairwell and the thought of the dressing room he had been assigned and its novel luxury of a locking door—and nearly jumped out of his skin when someone slapped his shoulder.

“Bad timing, Iän,” said Malu Vessavar, a sixteen year-old who had recently graduated to the adult chorus. His smile was warm and sympathetic, but his eyes were bright with a mismatched mirth; over the last six months, Iäna had been possessed of the idea that Malu was the height of earthbound beauty, but something about his expression made him so uncomfortable that he was tempted to rethink that stance. “A week out from opening and a month left of runs after that, and here is thy voice dropping at last.”

Iäna swallowed, his eyes widening. Voice dropping. And here he had been convincing himself of a bout of sessiva—and in sooth, he would prefer a plague to this.

“But hey!” Malu continued, his grin widening to something sharp and coy. “Wilt have hair on thy balls at last!”

A chorus of laughter followed, the older boys of the Children’s Chorus having gathered without his notice, and it was all Iäna could do to escape without bursting into tears.

[philipkindreddickhead]

I often seen critiques of make up from an existential/philosophical perspective, but I rarely see criticism of cosmetics from a stand point of the very physical bodily harm it does. I think this is because the number of dangerous ingredients is so massive, and overlapping its an absolutely daunting task. So I've compiled the information I've found and bear with me its a lot. (This is from an American perspective. Sorry, thats what I know. However I would love it if people from other countries had things to add.)

First I want to get the "simple" stuff out of the way. I think almost everyone has heard about bacteria and fungi in makeup and that makeup causes acne from clogging pores. Makeup has a pretty strict shelf life, yet consumers are entirely supposed to self-police as Ive never seen a single expiration date on any cosmetic packaging. (I guess consumers are meant to pull this knowledge out of the ether or something. I only found out about it in a tumblr PSA. I did read that expirys are on products in Europe.) Beauty blenders are the worst offender because theyre almost always moist. When I was taught makeup I was told to wet my sponge so it would soak up less product. If you apply makeup daily your sponge is likely constantly damp. USA Today had an article which said that 96% of sponges had fungi and over 60% had E. Coli in them. But I think what people talk about less is the complication of problems from using other products in conjunction with dirty beauty blenders. USA Today warns its especially dangerous to use beauty blenders if you have damage to your skin like acne, cuts, or dry skin. However the most popular beauty products for washing your face contain walnut pieces for literally scrubbing your skin and creating microabrasions. If youre a frequent makeup user you probably know about the cyclical nature of applying foundation, breaking out, and then applying more foundation to cover the breakout. You may even be using scrubbing cleansers more frequently to combat the acne creating more tears. This can lead to "blood poisoning" and, though neither USA today or Forbes mentions this, blood poisoning (not a medical term btw. Its sepsis.) according to numerous medical sites has the potential to be extremely lethal. The symptoms are so similar to a regular flu its nearly impossible to self-diagnose.

The very first thing I was told when a friend handed me a jar of finishing powder- popular with many beauty gurus for the "baking" technique and considered a must have- was a joke about "clown lung." This was a reference to the main ingredient talc. Talc causes lung problems including cancer and respiratory illness. If anyone remembers the large Johnson and Johnson lawsuit from 2019 it was because theyd been putting talc into baby powder. Talc is dangerous because it's impossible to mine and seperate from ASBESTOS. Some high-end finishing powders will try to sell you on safe talc-free formulas but all the products I looked into contained mica instead which causes pneumoconiosis, colloquially known as "black lung disease." Like fucking coal miners get. Its not just present in finishing powder either. In my research it turned out that talc/asbestos are also present in many eyeshadows and other powder products. [Googleable, evidenced in J&J lawsuit]

Another industry to examine is nail salons. Toluene, Formaldehyde, Dibutyl Phthalate, and Methacrylate compounds are all dangerous ingredients and present in various salon products. These ingredients cause a range of problems from dizziness, drowsiness, birth defects, slow fetal growth, future intellectual disabilities in the fetus, eye skin and throat irritation, coughing, allergic reactions, asthma-like attacks, short-term memory loss, nausea, dermatitis, cancer, and misscarriage. Some nail products advertise that they are 3-free meaning that toluene, formaldehyde, and DP should be absent but often the labels are found to be completely inaccurate. It should be noted that the risk is mainly to salon workers and not patrons but ask yourself if it is right to place other people at serious risk for your aesthetic. OSHA does make an attempt to mitigate these risks however not once in my years of makeup queen did I see a salon following these directives which include constant air monitoring, half mask respirators with chemical cartridges, gloves, long sleeves, and safety glasses. (And Im not even going to touch issues of human trafficking/slave labour out of nail salons one case of which occured 5 days ago two hours away from me) It should also be noted that formaldehyde can also be found in hair relaxers and hair dyes. [Found articles in Scientific American and NYT]

I also found on the FDAs website that many cosmetics include heavy metals like arsenic, mercury, and lead. (Usually accompainied by a picture of lipstick so I assume that is the product most likely to contain it, however campaign for safe cosmetics lists foundation as containing heavy metals, and The Guardian has an article about skin lighteners from Asia and Africa containing mercury.) The website stated that the amount of these heavy metals in cosmetics is "safe" if used as intended. (and I'm going to come back to the concept of "intended use" later because thats a can of worms too) However, when searching for info on heavy metal safety I found this quote in regards to metals in food:

"Certain metals, such as arsenic, lead and mercury, have no established health benefit, and have been shown to lead to illness, impairment, and in high doses, death. Understanding the risk that harmful metals pose in our food supply is complicated by the fact that no single food source accounts for most people’s exposure to metals in foods. People’s exposure comes from many different foods containing these metals. Combining all of the foods we eat, even low levels of harmful metals from individual food sources, can sometimes add up to a level of concern"

So like, which is it? Is it a "safe amount" or is no amount of metal safe? I understand that in the case of certain foods like fish some amount of mercury poisoning is always expected but fish is also something you feed yourself and nourish your body with while cosmetics are completely unecessary to your survival. The mercury problem in fish is also mitigated by health warnings when mercury levels are particularly high but cosmetics have no such warning. Another warning on the site indicated that children should ingest NO amount of lead AT ALL because it is particularly harmful for kids yet theres no effort to stop children from using lead-containing cosmetics. I worked next to a Five Below where I was shocked to find they sold Jeffree Star and Anastasia eyeshadow dupes for five dollars which amounts to fucking pocket change for a lot of kids and kids do buy that stuff. I also think its ironic the FDA would have anything to say regarding cosmetics because in the very same article about heavy metals in cosmetics the FDA says that they DO NOT REGULATE cosmetics beyond the color additives.

Mascara, eyeliner, lipstick, and brow tint often contain carbon black. This is a color additive that is an incomplete combustion of carbon-based products. It can cause lung disease, cancer, and organ system toxicity, and eye, nose, throat irritation. The effects are mainly studied in rats and those at biggest risk are industrial workers but why do other workers have to endure lung problems for something so unecessary? [Easily googleable, NIH, CDC, WHO Europe]

This next bit I only want to mention briefly because I didnt find any particularly reputable sources about it, but its a claim that cropped up repeatedly and I think its an interesting one. Parabens, estrogen, phthalates (again), and pesticides in cosmetics are apparently linked to endocrine disorders and hormone dysregulation. Im not entirely sure what is meant by this accusation. Endocrine disorders include female diseases like PCOS and possibly endometriosis. None of these diseases is very well studied and the female endocrine system itself is not well studied either. Im not saying "cosmetics cause PCOS" because we dont know if PCOS or these other endocrine/hormonal disorders are genetic or environmental or both (it appears that PCOS is largely genetic and Endometriosis is likely autoimmune related) AND we dont appear to know for sure that cosmetic ingredients cause endocrine disorder. But I include anyway for a number of reasons:

If you happen to struggle with hormonal problems you may want to know cosmetics is a potential environment factor.

These conditions are incredibly painful. It will be a battle getting your doctor to even acknowledge that pain for diagnosis. PCOS is linked to diabetes, and heart disease. [Thanks @mother-of-pearl ] There is no cure and the treatments are often throwing hormonal birth control at it and hoping for the best.

I dont anticipate the link between cosmetics and endocrine disorders being studied any time soon or any endocrine disorders studied at all because the medical/scientific field is sexist. I dont want women to suffer in the mean time.

Now again, take this with a grain of salt because I couldnt find scientific or news sources for it. Dont fucking come for me. Im not gonna respond to you. [Most reputable source was a paper from the library of medicine at the national institutes of health but it was behind a paywall and I dont have 39 dollars to be right on tumblrdotcom]

Avoiding these ingredients is not as simple as scanning the label for them. As many beautubers and the community are no doubt aware considering multiple scandals over veganism. Products advertised as vegan or cruelty free but contain non-vegan carmine or are sold in China which legally requires the products to be animal tested. Cosmetic companies will hide ingredients claiming they are "trade secrets" or they will be placed under "fragrance." Many ingredients will be known by six or seven different names and asking consumers to be aware of seven different names for multiple ingredients requires consumers to be aware of innumerable different, often complicated ingredient names. I shouldnt have to point out that's a ridiculous burden to place on women. The EU banned 1,300 hazardous ingredients that the US did not. Cosmetic companies rely on women being unwilling/unable to bring in a list of 1,300 ingredients- with multiple names- every time they pop in to the drug store, sephora, or wherever. Buying "natural" products will not help you either. Theres no established criteria for natural/organic in costmetics, the FDA doesnt test these products, and "natural"=/= safe anyway. Plenty of plants and minerals are poisonous. One good example is traditional kohl products which advertise their natural status but also naturally contain lead and reiterating that natural powders contain mica. US courts are rarely on the side of consumers either. I found an interesting lawsuit against St. Ives for their apricot scrub taken to court for their "dermatologist tested" label despite it causing breakouts and cuts to the skin. The courts ruled that this label was fine because it only indicated that the product was TESTED not APPROVED by dermatologists. However I think any rational consumer would look at this label and assume the tests concluded it was safe for use or else why put the label on there?

[Googlable XMONDO drama, googlable laws wrt china and eu, already stated about FDA, FDA website about Kohl. Googled St. Ives lawsuit.]

I want to return to the idea of "intended use." This is sort of a fucky concept a lot of companies have ways of getting around. My "last straw" with makeup had to do with a run-in I had with Anastasia over their "Riviera" eyeshadow palette. In this pallette they had two colors that were the real feature of the palette, an electric neon purple and a radioactive pink I mean every photo, every promotion has these two colors swirled together around the eye. Because again, its an eyeshadow palette. When I buy the eyeshadow palette of course there's a little insert warning in the package that says these two shades are not intended on the eye area. In an eyeshadow palette. Contacting their customer service they told me that these two shades were meant to be used as a blush. neon purple blush. Not only that, but their website and instagram featured NO models wearing the shades as blush while EVERY model one or more of the shades as eyeshadow. When asked about this discrepancy ABH stopped responding. What I find egregious about this is the amount of people who dont know, and then more staggeringly; dont care. The sephora clerks didnt know, the in store abh representative didnt know, their customers didnt know, and when I told them they would respond with "oh, [brand] did the same thing with their [shade]." Sure enough, when I demanded that store clerks open the packaging to look for warnings nearly every product had an "eyeshadow" that was not intended for use on the eyes. Relegating dark, red-toned teal to "contour" and neon grean to "highlighter" US-based cosmetic junkies will say that these pigments have been approved for use by the EU however I found absolutely NO evidence of that. I googled it a thousand ways but all I ever found were blog posts, reddit comments, and one quote from an apparently nonEuropean layman in an Insider article. I even changed my location to France on ABH's website and the Norvina palette still contains the same warnings (not to harp on ABH in particular. I just know which shades in particular are the problem there). The Insider article noted that brands who were selling pressed pigments declined to comment. If the pressed pigments were EU friendly, I would think companies would be clamouring to say so. It also still makes their market as eyeshadow colors illegal in the US. (If any Europeans would like to chime in I'd love that.) Another problem I find with cosmetics companies and their reps is the claim that the worst thing that could happen is eye irritation for those with sensitive eyes and staining. How could they possibly know? The FDA doesnt test, or approve these cosmetics in the eye area, so ostensibly no one should be using it that way.

The next one is a bit of a "duh" but I'm going to talk about it anyway. Counterfeit cosmetics are a booming market full of untold dangers. Untold primarily because these products could contain literally anything. Ive read about glue, arsenic, lead, feces, staph, and horse urine to name a few. The labels and ingredient list on these products are fake. Legitimate brands often unintentionally play into the counterfeit market. They create artificial scarcity by making less of the product than is actually needed for consumer demand to create an even higher demand. If consumers miss out often their only chance at getting the product is to turn to counterfeits. I found examples of women who had their lips superglued, lips "turned to goo" and burned to blistering, throat closures, women with stys, contact dermatitis, eye infections. I think we as a society turn a blind eye to this problem because we think "hey, if youre buying counterfeits for a discount and you get hurt you deserve it." We imagine idiots buying products for 4 dollars from ebay or perusing Canal street for FEИTY beauty. But these counterfeits can be really convincing. I myself received a gift of a huda palette that I only recognized something was weird about it because I'd swatched it at sephora about five times earlier that month. The person who bought it for me actually paid MORE than the usual cost for the palette because it was advertised as a newer, better edition. The websites can be disturbingly similar. For instance Kylie Jenner's legitimate website is KylieCosmetics.com but you can find fakes at kyliecosmeticsshop.co.uk. These fakes can buy ad space and be one of the first sites that populate when you google the products instead of typing the legitimate site into the address bar. Counterfeits can also be bought and sold through third parties on websites like ebay, wish, and amazon. (My gift actually came from Amazon.)

[Netflix doc "Broken" ep "Makeup Mayhem" Corroborated by personal experience and google]

[mxvladdy]

Lost Affections: Part 3

Ayyyyoooo. Here is the last part to @marymaryroo's request!

On to the next one :)

Magic is a beautiful and powerful thing. It permeates the Devildom like an eternal fog. For the residents, it is as common as breathing. From the strongest of their kind down to the lowest inhabitants, it is integral to their culture and daily life. Mistakes and accidents happen daily with young and old alike learning or experimenting. Magical rebounds and mishaps mean very little to them, especially the brothers. From the Celestial Realms down, they have seen it all.

Sometimes they forget that to you, magic can be a volatile and dangerous.

Beelzebub

Beel would never call himself accident-prone. He didn’t trip and stumble like Belphie when sleep deprived. He most certainly wasn’t as bad as Mammon when he was without his glasses or contacts. No, he would never say he was that bad. While not clumsy he knew he could be careless, especially when food was in the picture. He didn’t think twice about eating random things. It did hurt anyone, not physically. Sure, Luke and Satan got a little put out when he swiped something, but it didn’t hurt them.

He just forgets sometimes that you are different. You and he go together so well he forgets that you aren’t a demon. You don’t have the steel stomach or fast recovery time that he has. You make up for it. When you go out to eat you always research the place ahead of time. Does the place have non-enchanted food? Human grade options? If not, you make sure that Beel has his fill before taking him somewhere more appropriate for your stomach. Neither of you thinks about residual contaminants.

His life with you unravels with kisses. It is a slow, inconspicuous death. It builds over time with each brush of his lips to yours. Neither of you notices the taste of magic clinging to his mouth or tongue, neither of you thinks of the implications of all the weird potions and food he samples.

It starts small, you forget simple things about him. When his club activities ended, or what his favorite post-game drink was. He brushes it off, it’s trivial really. You are busy and these things can happen to the best of them. He keeps brushing off the nagging worry until he can’t.

It comes to a head one night at the door to your room. “Beel?” You yawn, pulling your robes closer around you. “What’s up?” You glance down at the box of snacks and pillows in his hands. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s date night.”

Your brows shoot up, facing heating. “What.” You sputter. Beel frowns, placing the box at his feet. With slow movements, he places his hand on your forehead. You were a little warm.

“Mmmmm.” His hearts flutter with nerves. Was his little human sick? He ignores the way you stiffen when he touches you. “Do you need a doctor?” He asks bending down to look you in the eye. He catches a whiff of something when you exhale. It is faint but clings to your breath, it’s sickly sweet and sharp to his nostrils. “You need a doctor.”

Without a second thought, he grabs your arm and drags you out of your room. His food forgotten in the hallway with your protests buzzing in his ears. “Beel...Beel!” You stumble after him. He ignores you each step he takes determined and picks up speed. Before you know it you are sitting next to Gluttony in Purgatory waiting for Solomon, beyond confused and anxious.

You fidget on the couch, peeking glances at the troubled look on the red-heads face. This wasn’t like him. He was a man of few words, sure, but this was new. Beel left you to your devices mostly, a few polite conversations here and there, but you two never hung out a lot. You zone out when he starts talking to Solomon. You were still half asleep from Beel waking you up. You had been sleeping so soundly beforehand. “Are you alright?” You jerk awake unaware that you started dozing again. Solomon crouches in front of you.

“I think so?” You had no idea what this was about. “I’m just tired.” The mage says nothing to you, instead turning to glance at Beel. He jerks his head to the door, a clear signal for the old demon to wait outside.

With one last pitiful glance, Beelzebub leaves the two humans to converse. “Now then.” Solomon rounds his piercing eyes back to you. “Tell me how's your stay in the Devildom?”

You tell him confused but willing to play along with his odd request, the sooner you wrap this up the sooner you can go back to bed. An odd feeling of missing something begins to grow as you tell him. Soon you began to fumble, the harder you try to recount something the harder it was to collect. You still were convinced anything was seriously wrong but the growing look of concern on Solomon’s face was making you think otherwise. “So,” You finish rubbing your knees with sweaty palms. “I’m I dying or something?”

He laughs dismissing the notion with a wave of a well-manicured hand. “No, no your soul is still firmly in place.” He rubs his chin. “But you have lost your memory, only when it comes to Beelzebub though. It is very peculiar. Have you ingested anything weird of late? Done any experiments with Satan?” You shake your head. To the best of your knowledge, you have been really careful with your food intake while down here. Devildom foods were delicious but had potential side effects for you and Solomon.

Solomon nods. He figured that. “Could I draw some blood? It sounds to me like you might have trace contamination of some kind. Diavolo and I discussed that this might happen but I wish to double-check.” Well, that’s worrisome, you nod and begin to roll up your sleeve. Solomon bustles collecting a few vials and a mouth swab for extra measure.

“Thank you.” He smiles looking at the samples with scientific glee. “I will let you know what I find. Until then, I guess just go about your regular day. Unless you feel ill, in that case, come to me immediately.” With that, he leaves you depositing you back with Beel.

The walk back to the House was more subdued, both of you were confused as to what to do next. “So,” You flounder. “We were-are an item?”

He shrugs looking down at you. “Yes. We’d hang out in your room on Saturdays, and get brunch on Sundays... do you still want to?”

You shrug feeling awkward. You felt nothing but platonic friendship to the large demon, though Solomon did fill you in on what you apparently have forgotten. “If you want to? I’m up now, and too nervous to sleep.” Beel grunts clenching his fists at his side.

“No,” He shakes his head. “You should rest, even if you can’t sleep. This is overwhelming. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow?” You feel bad. He sounds so hopeful when he asks, like a good night’s sleep was all you needed to fix whatever this was.

You reach for his big hand and squeeze it. “Sure, Beelzebub. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He lets you go watching you head back into the house. Running on instinct he turns and heads into the dense forest surrounding the house. He needed to hunt for a bit.

That’s how his twin finds him, gorging himself on the fauna of the forest. Belphie’s socked feet pad loudly over the dried grass and scattered bones of the once lush lowlands. “You know Lucifer is going to be pissed. It takes forever for the wildlife to come back after one of your benders.” He tosses his oversized pillow onto the dead grass and lays down. Belphie doses for a moment, the sound of his brother’s many mouths and whistling of wings a white noise to him. Up until an obnoxious locus landed on his nose.

“Beel.” He flicks the bug off his face, shooting the swarm coating his brother’s skin a sour look. “What’s going on?”

Forgot. Me. One of his mouths rattles out, flecks of meat and vegetation falling from between crooked and jagged teeth. Another opens near his rib cage to speak. They. Don’t. Love. Me.

“I’ll kill them.” Already Belphie is back on his feet. He feels for his brother and his plight, but the thought that you betrayed him after you promised to never hurt Beel took precedence. The storm of bugs goes quiet, all the millions of eyes now turn to him. They jerk and twitch in unison before converging back on the mass of leathery gaunt skin of his brother. His human form takes shape slowly, shiny wings and many mandibled skulls melding together to create his flesh.

Beel grabs Belphie’s shoulders. His claws dig into the soft fabric of his nightshirt. “It’s not their fault.”

“Then who?” Beel chuckles weakly at his brother’s blood lust. He couldn’t deny that he felt it too, but he had no idea where to channel this anger.

So he ate. It calmed him a little. If he could get into the village and eat there...no. The last time he siphoned the emotions from the populous at large Lucifer got mad. The whole of the Devildom had to shut down for a good week to recover. He rubs his stomach a feeling of agitation growing in the pits of them. “Don’t know. Solomon is taking a look at it.” Belphie snorts a sneer growing on his lips. “He is helping, Belphie.”

“Sure-right. That boy meddles in all shorts of shit he shouldn’t. Careful he doesn’t try to bargain with your skin for this.” He eyes where your mark rests on his brother. It would be a perfect lure to entrap his twin in a pact.

Hmm.

No, none of this would do. Belphegor would rather die than let some human-like Solomon meddle anymore in his family’s affairs, and as far as he was concerned the moment you started seeing Beel you were as another sibling. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the house. I’ll bring dinner up to our room.”

After settling Beel under the covers of his massive bed Belphie went on the hunt for more food in the kitchen. He stops by your bedroom door picking up the box of goodies still left in front of it. He piles more things into the box when he reaches the kitchen. Swiping up snacks at random Belphie piles the box sky high. His hand stops over a few of your favorite human snacks. Should he? Honestly, it was a blind shot in the dark if it would comfort his brother or not. After a bit more debate Belphie puts the chocolates back, a different idea already turning in his head.

Back in their shared room, he listens to his brother run down the last week between huge bits of sweets. As he recounts every little thing that has gone down they both began to notice just how strange you have been. Both twins sit in the aftermath of Beel’s words, a wasteland of wrapper and silence stretching between them. “Think it will come back?” The twins lock eyes, Beel’s large and unsure but simmering with foolish hope.

“Possibly.” Belphie grits out, breaking their eye contact. He could never lie to his brother, at least not to his face. “Get some rest. I’m sure someone will have a plan in motion by tomorrow.” He’ll set his plans in motion tonight.

Lying in wait some hours later Belphie listens through the walls of the massive house for your quick little human heartbeat in your bedroom. He matches his shallow breaths with yours feeling yourself slip into slumber and his realm. Once you are completely under he drifts off himself.

He enters your dreams and scowls unused to stumbling inside of a dreamscape. Your dreams are muddled and clotted with stick webs of confusion and hazy memories. Odd bits and pieces of images drip around the edges of your mind. This place was a disgusting mess. With a deep sigh, Belphie begins trudging through the quagmire.

He peers around making note of the black holes in your mind like canvas ripped from their frames. Rotten magic assaults him from all sides. Stopping in front of a particularly deep gash in your mind he rolls up his oversized sleeves finding what he was looking for. He knew this memory was in it, just on the outskirts of the scene playing out. He could knit this rip back together easily, after that it should give him some clarity on the others he couldn’t place.

This was going to take a lot of energy. No one would notice if he stole some energy to get things started. Belphie smiles to himself already tapping into Lucifer's dreamscape, taking a bit more than he needed. You deserve only the best after all.

__________________

“Morning everyone.” You chirp plopping down in your chair. The brothers reply with groggy acknowledgments, completely unlike themselves. You look around at the bunch. “Are you all ok?” The group grunts collectively yawning or rubbing their weary eyes.

“Tough night.” Lucifer looks up from his newspaper. He was half-dead in his chair, a cup of coffee shaking in his hands. Asmo sits beside him looking on the verge of tears as he gently pokes his swollen cheeks and eyelids. The only two that seem to even be remotely coherent were the twins. The youngest of the two sleeping oblivious to the turmoil of his siblings while his brother stares at your every move. “Good morning Beel.” You nod feeling awkward in this shared space.

“Morning.” He smiles at you, a few crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth. Something ticks in the back of your mind at his look. A foggy image comes to mind. It feels like a dream, but so real at the same time. It makes you nauseous, a weird sense of dejavu fighting its way to the forefront. “You ok?” He puts a hand on your shoulder.

You blink noticing the room at large turning their gaze to you. You nod, reaching across from him for some leftover food. The moment a bowl of cereal was in your hands Asmo swept you up in a conversation about his “fading” looks. You don’t think of Beel and your predicament for the rest of the day, not until Solomon invites you over to his hall for tea.

“You were poisoned.” He states simply over his sorry excuse of scones. You pause in the middle of trying to break a piece off on the table.

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing to apologize for, unless you did it intentionally.” He laughs. “It appears to be through slow ingestion over a long period of time. The levels in your blood are staggering but not lethal. It looks like the magic took root in the temporal lobe-much like a tumor, really quite fascinating- and has been eating away at the memories of the person, or in this case, a demon that poisoned you.” Beel had been poisoning you? Solomon waves his hand at your look of concern. “I am quite positive that it was not intentional. Mind you he does find the most wondrous things to shovel down his gullet. The fact that it mixed perfectly into a potion instead of a lethal toxic is sheer dumb luck on your end.” You breathe a sigh of relief finally tossing the baked good away as a bad job. Well that's...something. At least you’d be alive to stumble around your apparent “forgotten boyfriend”.

“Any chance of fixing this?”

Solomon shrugs. “Possibly? I need more time to figure out exactly what components are involved in your test results. Then making a tonic to undo all the magic is another thing entirely.”He discusses a few other options with you for a few hours, going over in great detail the ins and outs of potion-making. Soon the windows of the sunroom grew dark, the glow of the lamps outside growing brighter so you could see the pathway back to the house.

“I better head back.” You stretch looking out into the pitch outside. Hmmm, if you remember correctly Levi should be off of work by now. He said to call when he was done to come to pick you up. As if on cue a sharp knock on the door disrupts you. Instead of a shock of blue hair, you are greeted with orange. “Oh-hey Beel.”

“Hey.” The corner of his mouth twitches in a facsimile of a friendly smile. “Ready to go?” He picks up your forgotten school bag and takes your sweater from the coat rack. With a well-practiced motion, he slings the bag over his shoulder and holds your sweater open for you. He obviously did this a lot before…

You stare back wide-eyed at Solomon who only smirks, nodding at you to hurry up.

Out the door and into the chilly night you sneak a peek at Beelzebub walking quietly beside you. He catches your look and raises a brow. “Sorry.” You feel your cheeks heat a little under his thoughtful gaze.

“About?”

“All of this.” You wave at yourself. “Please don’t feel obligated to hang out with me. Until we can get this settled. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

Beel grunts, stopping in his tracks by a low garden wall. “I was hurt-am still hurting.” He admits. “But this isn’t your fault, so what good does it do to blame you for it? Even if you don’t remember me as your partner, you still remember me as a friend...right?” A warm smile spreads across his face when you nod. “Then I’m ok with this. I haven’t lost you completely and even if you don’t ever feel the same way about me anymore, I think I will be ok.”

“I- thank you Beel. That means a lot.”

“Of course.” He hums. “Let’s head back. I think Asmo left some food out.”

You dream of Beel again, a weird amalgamation of scenes all tossed together in a great pile with you in the middle of it. You could do nothing but watch like a film as they rush by you in a blur. Some scenes didn’t line up right, bouncing around like a scratched vinyl, but it still made sense in a way only a dream could. You play out each dream like an actor, the script coming to you naturally with each little venette. You sit outside his locker room, a basket of food and drink in your lap, your heart fluttering in your chest. You and Beel were watching his brothers on the beach, his broad hands rubbing sunscreen into your skin. Beel walking you back to your room after a long night in the library holding your hand in his strong, sure grip. Saturday afternoons spent hopping from one cafe to the next sampling the sweets and drinks to both of your heart's content.

It grips your heart but slips away with the rise of the young morning moon.

When morning comes the night is nothing more than a few smudges in your mindscape. Yet, a light, sweet feeling stays with you. You found yourself smiling more around the redhead and gravitating to him during the day. He accepts you back with a friendly hug and a friendly ear.

He treats you no differently than you remember. It’s nice. Even if a part of your yearns to see how he treated you when you were more than friends.

You begin to get excited for when your head hits your pillow. The dreams become clearer and clearer each night. Some new pieces show up and fall into place as the weeks progress. You start seeing bits of your dreams in the day too. After-images of you hand in hand with him walking down the other side of the street. The taste of something sweet on your tongue or a familiar scent in your nose.

After one particularly vivid dream, you wake determined not to let the contents of this dream slip through your fingers. This time you dreamt of the kitchen, dirty bowls, and units scattered about the cluttered counters. You had been baking something, and failing miserably.

Sneaking down to the kitchens you pull out all the things you could remember. For some reason, this dream lit a fire in you, like it was the last piece of the puzzle to getting it all back. You don’t think, instead, you just let your body take control. You baked a cake.

Well, it was supposed to be a cake. The center was too spongy and collapsed inward while the sides were dark and cracked. The icing was badly blended and melting from the still-warm pastry. It was almost exactly like the one from your dream.

You stare at it waiting for some great revelation, but nothing comes. Great. Now what?

“I smell food.”

“Gods!” You jerk smacking your knee on your bar stool. Beel’s deep voice scaring you half to death. “Should put a bell on you.” You grin. Beel peeks his head through the door brows furrowed.

“This is familiar.” He walks in pulling up another chair to sit next to you.

“Ye?” You look back at him.

“Yes. This was our first kiss.” You drop your icing spoon. “You wanted to surprise me before a big game.” He put a finger through the thick black and purple icing and pops it in his mouth. “Ah- You forgot the bane extract...I had thought that perhaps you remembered.” The hope in his voice stung your chest.

Oh. You look down at the mess you made, whatever feelings of satisfaction are lost. “I thought I was forgetting something, but my dreams are all blurry.”

“Dreams?” Beel pauses reaching for a slice. “You dreamt of this?”

“Yes. Been dreaming about you a lot of late.” You flush. “Little things that are starting to build a bigger picture. I just had this dream of a cake and the urge to make one...so- here we are.” You wave your hand out over the messy kitchen. Sighing plopping your chin down on your palm. “Guess I can sleep on it a bit more huh?” You shoot him a quick wink and sad smile.

“Or just ask Belphie.” He shrugs, taking another large slice of the disaster. “Sounds like he’s been meddling.” That realization hits you like a ton of bricks. Damn, you could have slapped yourself. “I’m sure he meant well, but he shouldn’t force you if you don’t want to. I could tell him to stop.”

What! No! You shake your head. “No. I-I don’t mind it. Solomon has yet to figure anything out, and whatever your brother is doing seems to be helping a little.” Beelzebub said nothing to that and just continued to eat while you started the dishes.

“Do you want to end tonight like we did before?” He asks sometime later, half of the dishes now drip drying in the rack. His long arms box you in on either side holding on to the lip of the sink. His head dips low, his chin resting on the top of your head. Deep down you knew that you could leave at any time. His grip was loose and easily breakable, considerate as ever to your comforts.

You turn to face him, a soft look crosses his face. “And how did it end?” He grins moving closer. You would have to thank Belphie for his interference. Just, perhaps later. You doubted he would want to be in your dreams tonight.

[entitycradle]

DRINK

Something a little different. India ink on bristol. Transcript below. PAGE 1 - Panel 2 Squid: greetings - Panel 3 Squid: you seem like a monkey at a crossroads Pilgrim: Humans aren’t monkeys. - Panel 4 Squid: hmm Squid: an ape at a crossroads then Pilgrim: Sure. Squid: how do you wanna fee Squid: wasted bubbly shadowed - Panel 5 Pilgrim: Can I just get one of, whatever the skull is. I’ll open a tab. Squid: haha everyone wants that one Squid: you gotta order another drink first though c’mon Squid: how do you wanna feel PAGE 2 - Panel 1 Pilgrim: I want to value myself without having to feel special. Squid: ah - Panel 2 Squid: well sadsack ape or not I got spirits for you - Panel 3 Squid: here’s uhhh platonic lotus-wine Squid: you may detect notes of an ontological understanding of yourself as an endless four-dimensional pattern in spacetime Squid: supremely and cosmically unique Squid: in the back of your throat that sublime uniqueness becomes a pit of alienation from which no feeling or truth can escape - Panel 4 Squid: oh and this is malt of primordium Squid: about two fingers depending on the label has you feeling your intrinsic oneness with every object in reality Squid: as well as the insignificant gasping death of your own ego Squid: don’t drink it if you’re not prepared to lose track of which one of us is you - Panel 5 Squid: high-shelf labels pay a chorus to sing hymns of ancient gods into the still Squid: the words condense into small black cubes that sit at the bottom of your glass like boba PAGE 3 - Panel 1 Pilgrim: Can I please just get the skull. Squid: ooh I don’t know - Panel 2 Squid: that’s annihilation Squid: it uh triggers a metachemical process in your brain that pays your debt to the universe for being born Squid: its instant death at the cost of Squid: instant death Squid: mel out there chugged a whole pint - Panel 3 Sign: [ Drinks this way ] - Panel 4 Pilgrim: Well I refuse to pay 23 dollars for a beer. Squid: platonic lotus-wines are made from fermented lotuses grown in the ribcages of dead time travellers - Panel 6 Squid: I don’t know who’s out there murdering time travellers for wine Pilgrim: Okay give me a shot of the primordium and a glass of the platonic stuff. Maybe they’ll balance me out. Squid: they won’t but I admire the attempt PAGE 4 Pilgrim: Is there no compromise? Squid: I ingest psychotropic substances daily as part of ongoing health treatment community decentralize chained to causality systemic forces small Self Supremacy You Can Do It Final Individualism Great Men Conquer History Alone Free Willpower together no one’s fault part of something context Violently sick of selfhood One drop of annihilation to taste the thing outside a quarter inch of skull [ DESPERATE ACC ] [ EPT VOID LOOP ]

End transcript.