#future weed pineapple strips

[miasmaghoul]

hear me out, speaking of the ghovie… what abt raindrop movie theater employees au? love u btw 🥺🫶

HIllll CRIM ILU TOOOO <3

Pls this is such a fun idea ugh. Kinda suggestive at the end, but mostly just raindrop being raindrop. :))))

"Whaddaya think makes 'em Swedish?"

Rain looks up from where he's hunched over his phone, finds Dew sitting on the counter with a baggie of Swedish Fish. He swings his feet and holds a gummy fish between two fingers, making it swim through the air. Rain can see how red his eyes are from here, and even though the air hangs heavy with with the scent of popcorn he can still smell the remnants of weed wafting from him.

"Dunno," Rain shrugs. He supposes he could look it up, but that would interrupt his valuable mindless scrolling time. There's only so much time between screenings in their dinky little theater, he has to take what he can get. "You should ask someone Swedish."

Dew hops off the counter, stretching both arms over his head. His uniform polo slides up, reveals a pale strip of skin above low-slung jeans, and Rain snaps a quick picture for future reference.

(He has a Thing for Dew's bony hips, so sue him.)

"You're no fun," Dew pouts, slouching over to Rain's side of the concession stand. He drapes himself over Rain's back, sighing heavily. The little baby hairs thay have escaped his bun tickle Rain's cheek, make his nose scrunch up.

"I'm tons of fun," he deadpans, holding up his phone and displaying an article about the mating habits of Atlantic salmon as though that proves something. Dew doesn't even glance at it, too busy snaking his arms around Rain's shoulders and nosing at his hair.

"You smell like coconuts," he giggles, woefully stoned. He sniffs at those dark curls until Rain starts to squirm, reaching back to poke him in the ribs.

"How high are you?" Rain chuckles, still tipping his head when Dew starts drifting towards his neck.

"This's what happens when you don't share with me," the blonde mumbles, chapped lips grazing Rain's throat. "I roll for two and have no self control."

Well, he's not wrong about that last part. Rain thinks back last week, when Dew had spent the night at his place. A quiet evening spent smoking and playing video games, until they were both too stoned to do anything but snuggle and watch TV. Rain had ordered them a pizza, grabbed it from the driver in a haze of smoke and set it on the couch with a quick announcement about needing to piss. He'd been gone for maybe ten minutes - most of which had been spent forgetting where he was while he washed his hands - and by the time he'd gotten back Dew had managed to scarf down six massive slices covered in pepperoni and pineapple all on his own.

"Don't I know it," Rain grumbles, reaching up to give the little guy an affectionate noogie. Dew nips at his jaw in retaliation, slinking around to Rain's front. Dew weasels his way into his lap, slinging his arms around Rain's neck with a smile. He leans in to lick at the spot he bit, and the way the ball of his tongue piercing glides over his skin makes Rain's eyelids flutter. He tosses his phone onto the counter in favor of holding the bony hips he loves so much.

"Y'know," Dew lilts, swaying in his lap, "we got some time before the next show." He scoots impossibly closer, until their chests meet and Dew can rub their noses together. Rain can feel his piercings through his shirt, and a little tingle runs through him. He slips one hand from Dew's hip to give his barely-there ass a quick squeeze, long fingers sneaking up the back of his shirt.

"We do," Rain nods, fingertips grazing the ultra soft peach fuzz at the base of Dew's spine. His eyes drift to Dew's mouth, wide and pink and curled at the corners in a mischievous little grin. "Wonder what we could do until then..."

Dew's smile gains a sensual edge, his eyelids drooping and the tip of his tongue poking out between crowded teeth. He slips his fingers into Rain's curls, blunt nails scratching at his scalp, and Rain shivers when Dew leans in close. He waits for a kiss that will undoubtedly taste of weed and raspberry flavoured candy.

Instead, Dew kisses his cheek and moves to whisper in his ear. His breath ghosts over Rain's skin, warm but shiver-inducing, and he makes his request.

Rain snorts.

"I am not fucking you with the popcorn butter, Dewdrop."

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[merakiui]

So you know that subtle rivalry hinted between Theo and Nine, like especially about the piano and stuff? I've seen their mini rivalry in personal stories too, but like I think it's pretty funny, cause the calm, peaceful Nine with the cool and collected Theo. What things do you think they would "fight" over? If you do small stories, like maybe a small story over it??

(Absolutely! Their relationship on the AFTER L!FE website says both of them believe the other has “ulterior motives,” which is definitely interesting. I ended up writing a small story/oneshot for this, and I hope it was good enough in terms of what they would “fight over.” Theo and Nine are so fun to write for when it’s in this format.)

Cake (Nine and Theo)

The manager is like cake, Theo thinks as he walks down the hall, a few documents held securely in his gloved hands. Everyone wants a piece of their time, but there’s only so much to go around. I guess it makes sense. They’ve always been sweet when it comes to the Reapers in the 14th Department.

Cake has an expiration date, as does any food. Along with that, it’s messy. Perfect frosting, fondant flowers, and a moist sponge that gets all over silverware and on clothes. Nevertheless, it’s a dessert for any celebratory occasion. Theo knows a lot of the Reapers can be compared to cake. Take innocent Ell and his happy-go-lucky personality for example. If he were a cake, he’d be the most overbearing slice of sugar. Such a simple cake is an insult, though. If you’re going to indulge in something unhealthy, at least make it overly presentable so you won’t have to fuss over the consequences of such a treat in the near future.

But Theo isn’t interested in cakes that have basic layers. He’s much more intrigued by those that have stacks of unique combinations, such as pineapple, vanilla, and even coconut. Each layer can be carefully picked apart, and every flavor dissected before his blue eyes. People are like cake. They’re either sickeningly sweet or spoiled with a rotten attitude, and they fall victim to their own natural expiration dates with the course of time. They can be broken down and devoured as easily as one does to a slice when they’re hungry. More importantly, their ingredients are always different. Opposing backgrounds, conflicting lifestyles, and even the people with whom they associate. When mixed together, it creates a person who holds their own morals, judgements, and rules based on the cards they have been dealt.

Perhaps that’s why children are so territorial when it comes to snacks; they believe it’s their right to be granted the best treat. In a group of three, who is most entitled to the last slice of cake? The two warring sides or the one unknowingly trapped in the middle? Sharing is cast aside in favor of getting the final piece. No one wants one-third of something. You can’t have one-third of a person. But Theo’s not of that age where you assume the world will be given to you on a silver platter. He knows when to choose his battles and when to surrender.

He knows when to savor every bite of cake he can get.

Theo almost drops the files he’s holding when he hears the upbeat staccato being played in rhythmic succession on the piano. That piano. The piano he should’ve found with the manager. If only they’d asked for his help. If only Nine hadn’t ruined it by impressing them with his dexterous talent. If only—

“You’re amazing, Nine!” the manager praises, a grin on their face. “I wonder if the other Soul Reapers have any sort of musical talent, too.”

“It’s nothing special,” he says, politely deflecting the compliment as easily as one discards a slice of moldy cake. “But I’m pleased you enjoy it, Manager.”

Of course, Theo thinks bitterly, drawing his lips into a thin line. Nine’s playing for them again.

“Can I try?”

Nine nods, sliding over on the bench to make room for (Name). While they tap certain keys at random intervals, sheepishly attempting to knit a comprehensive melody, Theo looks on in dissatisfaction. It’s Nine who senses the presence of a third individual, and he cranes his neck to confirm his suspicions.

“Oh, Mr. Theo. A pleasant surprise seeing you here.”

“You’ve been playing a lot lately. Won’t Nyang Lead Manager get angry if he catches you slacking off?”

“He doesn’t have to know,” (Name) says, rescuing Nine from any criticism Theo might have at the ready. “Besides, the day’s been slow enough.”

His heart sinks when he notices the bento boxes, evidence of two meals that have been thoroughly consumed. One for (Name) and one for Nine... They ate lunch together, and now they’re on the piano—the one he should be playing—acting completely chummy. Why? he thinks, his mind attempting to wrap itself around the concept of work relationships. Why are they so close?

His instincts tell him it’s all part of Nine’s master plan to have you to himself—to take all of the cake and leave nothing but crumbs for the others. It’s so selfishly enraging. Luckily, Theo has reason to stay in the spotless storage room. He sets the files on the lid of the piano, nearly swiping the bento boxes out of the way. There was more than enough room, and Nine doesn’t miss the calculated abruptness in Theo’s actions.

“Hm? What’s all of this?”

“Reports from this week’s patrol shifts,” he explains in a matter-of-fact tone. “I was told to bring these to you for review.”

“Right! I forgot about that. Thanks, Theo. What would I do without you?”

Just as fast as it sank, that familiar cardiovascular muscle skips a beat. Sneakily, he eyes Nine to gauge his reaction. The calm Noctu Reaper is staring right back, a partial smile gathering at the corners of his lips. If a pastry chef adds poison to the meringue of his cream horn and it incapacitates an unsuspecting customer, is he at fault? Does the issue lie with who sold him the poison? Were his intentions outlandishly harmful or driven purely by revenge? In this situation, who would be the chef? Theo’s certain it must be Nine. After all, he’s infecting you with a skill that should be reserved only for him. Playing the piano has always been his speciality. Nine is just a copycat baker whisking all sorts of notes in hopes that it produces a suitable tune.

His talent is poisoning the chances Theo has of impressing (Name) with his flawless playing.

Like a garden that’s been infested with weeds, stripping its sprouts of their needed sunlight, Nine has planted ugly hemlock.

“Is everything all right?” Nine questions, seeming concerned at Theo’s stretched silence. “Mr. Theo?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m flattered you’d worry about me.” Despite the fact that Nine’s older and that Theo ought to respect his seniors, he can’t bring himself to willingly trust the Reaper who’s been stealing the manager’s heart with his dexterity.

(Name) pops up from the seat at once, startled to have caught sight of the time. “Sorry, Nine. I've got to supervise Day and Kati’s cleaning shift. You can never be too careful with those two...” As they grab their empty bento box and the pile of documents, exchanging serene farewells with Nine, Theo opens his mouth to say something.

I’ll go with you, he wants to add, and yet the words evade him.

The manager turns to address Theo, a radiant beam in their expression—the sight of a flower that has wilted once and sprung back to life with a little bit of water and sunlight. “There’s a book I found that I think you’ll like. I’ll lend it to you if you’re interested. Let’s talk more next time, okay?”

His heart just about flips into cardiac arrest. How can his manager be so mindful and generous despite the minimal conversation they’ve shared? Such a gesture is sweeter than any cake the other Reapers may resemble.

“Let’s,” he echoes, watching as they make a swift exit. And suddenly the once dusty, overcrowded storage room becomes a haven. Observing it from his angle, he realizes just how much work the manager and Nine have done in terms of cleaning. That could’ve been a task suited to him. Now it’s as though you and Nine have started meeting up periodically in this room.

Nine rises from his spot on the bench, gingerly closing the lid over the piano keys. “Is there something on your mind?”

Theo raises a brow. “Nothing in particular. Why do you ask?”

“I was only curious. You seemed quite attached to the manager’s reactions. Though that’s just a speculation of mine. Please forgive me if I assumed incorrectly.”

“Well, I don’t want them to disapprove of my work.”

“I understand. You always do your best, Mr. Theo, so don’t let the pressure of appeasing Manager weigh you down.”

“I won’t. Thank you for your concern.” His words are hollow—lacking a soul—but he delivers them anyway. A faux cake needs no decorations if it’s role is not to be enjoyed. It’s merely a placeholder in his acquaintanceship with Nine. Stale enough to be recycled for future use, but also courteous in case of an emergency. “Then, I’ll be taking my leave now.”

Nine bids him a professional goodbye, friendly against the powerful tide of passive-aggressive distrust Theo’s built up. The disarming Soul Reaper closes the lid of his bento box, listening to Theo’s even footsteps as they grow distant with each passing second. He isn’t a fool, and neither is the picture-perfect Reaper in the Day Team. Something’s amiss. Anyone would be able to recognize the tense atmosphere that has ensnared the storage room in its vicious maw. Nine isn’t a stranger to formulated schedules. Ever since (Name) asked to meet him in the storage room for a few coveted minutes of listening to him play, Theo’s been in the distance, looming like a shadow in a child’s nightmare.

His finger taps at the colorful plastic while the gears in his brain turn. Nine doesn’t know Theo well enough to make any rash claims, and he certainly wouldn’t say any of that outright. Perhaps he just doesn’t know how to approach others, or he might want a chance to practice on the piano. If that’s the case, it would justify his lingering near the storage room. Nine has noticed the pattern, though. Theo’s always there when the manager observes his skillful fingers dancing across the keys. He’s never there for anyone else.

“I suppose anyone would think it’s an ulterior motive,” Nine murmurs to the empty air. “I’m not too sure.”

Green-eyed monsters don’t have blue eyes, so what does that make Theo?

Said Soul Reaper waits outside the door of the storage room, pressed against the wall with his ears alert and his mouth shut. To be blunt, Nine’s taken too much of the cake, and Theo’s not going to allow that. Crumbs are messy, and he despises messes. For a moment, the darker side of his thoughts conjure other messes. Crimson messes. Accidents that involve choice words and measured actions. Everything should be exemplary for a delicious result. But there won’t be any cake if he’s lacking the ingredients. The only recipe that makes is regret with a side of loss.

Theo slips away from the wall, quietly moving in the other direction. There are many layers to Nine that he must separate for intense study. The closer he gets to the center, the more personal he’ll get. And if the perfect cake involves a book, a piano, and the layers of a certain someone, he’s willing to forsake cleanliness.

Nine is there in the doorway wearing a faint smile as he witnesses Theo leave for a second time.

Something is definitely amiss with Mr. Theo.

[caliconnected]

Roll-ucation: How to Roll a Perfect Cross Blunt

What’s better than smoking a blunt? Smoking two blunts at the same time! That’s the magical result you can achieve by learning how to roll a cross blunt.

This guide will walk you through how to roll a perfect cross blunt in 8 easy steps. You are essentially going to roll two different blunts (one big, one small) and insert the small blunt through the larger blunt in order to make a cross shape.

If your more of a visual learner, you can watch our in-depth video on how to roll a cross blunt here:

So, cross your blunts and dot your eyes. And by “dot” your eyes, we mean use eye drops because after you smoke this masterpiece, you will surely need them!

Cross Blunt Supplies:

You'll want to start your cross blunt journey by gathering the necessary tools and supplies together on a clean rolling surface. Here’s what you'll need to get started as well as some additional recommended supplies:

Crucial supplies:

Dry Herbs -A generous helping

Two Blunt Cigars/Wraps -Preferably one larger and one smaller -We will use a Dutch Masters cigar and a Cigarillo

Dry Herb Grinder

Poking Tool or Paper Clip

Knife

Recommended supplies:

Filter

Scissors

Razor Blade

If it's your first attempt at rolling a cross blunt, we recommend buying more than one of each size cigar in case you find the need to start over. We also recommend reading up on the history of blunts as a prerequisite to this cross blunt tutorial if you’re new to rolling.

Step 1: Grind your herbs.

If you are living in a weed-legal state, we recommend using marijuana. If you are not living in a weed-legal state, we recommend using CBD flower with a THC content under the federal legal limit of 0.3%.

It is best to use a grinder to break down your dry herbs, leaving them as fine as possible. Using your fingers will result in a coarse grind, ultimately creating a lumpy cross blunt that has a higher chance of boating or canoeing (burning unevenly).

Step 2: Gut and prepare your larger blunt.

Moisten the outer-leaf of the cigar.

Carefully unwrap the outer-leaf of the cigar.

Split open the inner-leaf (a razor blade works best to cut in a straight line) and dump out the filler tobacco (A.K.A. “the blunt guts”).

Cut off the rounded end of the inner-leaf so that you have a clean rectangle shape as seen above.

Step 3: Roll the big blunt.

Place the optional filter tip at one end of the inner-leaf and fill the rest with a generous helping of herb. You want this blunt to be thick enough to fit another blunt through it perpendicularly, so don’t skimp on the herb.

Carefully pick up the filled inner-leaf and gently begin to roll the inner-leaf up and down between your thumb and index finger to lightly compress the contents.

Once your dry herbs are in a more compact shape, starting from the filter end, hold the end of your soon-to-be-blunt and slide your thumb fully across while simultaneously rolling/tucking the paper into its cone shape. Remember to slide your thumb the full length of the blunt with every roll to make it tight and smooth.

When the non-filter side begins to have limited paper remaining to roll, pause to lick/moisten all the way across the inner-leaf. Then finish the rolling process.

Tamp down the ground herb in the inner-leaf.

Grab the outer-leaf. Lick/moisten one side of the outer-leaf and lay it down on a clean, flat surface, with the moist-side-up.

Lay your rolled inner-leaf perpendicular (or a 45° angle) to the outer-leaf and tightly roll the outer-leaf around. Make sure to seal it well.

Cut off any extra outer-leaf with scissors. You can use this extra leaf later to seal any unwanted airflow from your cross blunt when the smaller blunt is inserted.

Blunt #1, done!

Step 4: Gut and prepare the small blunt.

Carefully break open the cigar down the seam (a razor blade is helpful). As a reminder, we chose to use a Cigarillo.

Dump out the filler tobacco.

Step 5: Roll the small blunt.

Spread ground herb onto the empty leaf, distributing evenly for a straight roll. Remember that this blunt has to be skinny enough to fit through the big blunt.

Gently compress the herb into a straight, cylindrical shape.

Slide your thumb fully across while simultaneously rolling/tucking the paper into its straight, even shape. Remember to slide your thumb the full length of the blunt with every roll to make it tight & smooth, and leave some extra space for sealing.

Moisten and seal while keeping the roll tight.

Blunt #2, done!

Step 6: Cut a hole through the big blunt.

Now for the fun part!

Carefully cut a hole through the big blunt using your knife. The hole should be about ⅓ of the way down from the end of the blunt you intend to light. (Opposite the filter if you used one)

Gently make the hole big enough for the smaller blunt to fit through it. Shimmying a thin poker tool in the hole helps to carefully enlarge the hole to the desired size.

Step 7: Poke a hole through the small blunt.

Poke a much smaller hole through the small blunt using your poker tool. This hole should be placed directly in the middle of the small blunt and go through both sides. The function of this hole is to enable sufficient airflow so that the cross blunt burns correctly when lit.

Now you have two hole-y blunts, and you’re ready to create a holy shape!

Step 8: Assemble the cross blunt.

Gently stick the small blunt into the hole of the big blunt and slowly twist, turn, push, and pull until it is positioned halfway through and looks symmetrical.

You can now use any leftover cigar leaf from step #3 to seal unwanted airflow around the intersection of the blunts!

Pro Tip: You can cut your excess leaf paper into smaller strips and work it around the cross for a better seal.

Final Thoughts:

Now you're ready to enjoy your perfect cross blunt! If you're not sure what to do next, we’ll let Saul from Pineapple Express explain the rest:

“What you do is light all three ends at the same time and then the smoke converges, creating a trifecta of joint-smoking power. This is it, man. This is what your grandchildren are gonna be smoking. Future. The future...”

Keep in mind--these instructions are not for the roller who is faint of heart. Rolling a cross blunt requires patience and precision. This is, after all, like, the apex of the vortex of blunt engineering.

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