#im right there with you gang

[kr-uwu-ssy]

i paused the show to make this

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative 

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

[stargiirl27]

the beatles would have been a lot cooler if they made out with each other on stage every now and then

[kisaraslover]

at the risk of sounding like a Very Hurt Person ill be frank. Seto Kaiba being set up as a traumatized, mentally ill kid with PTSD, who had to cope alone and heal alone and bury his past and reinvent himself, proving to and deeply convincing himself that he can do anything in the process, resulting in this narcissistic double ended blade persona, which, narratively speaking, only gets stomped on, by the good guys, antagonized, by the good guys, and as the Merciful course of action the good guys: Force Him Back Into Accepting And Becoming His Past Self (literally cant imagine a worse fate for anyone who had to erase their past and remake themselves tbh) With Its Past Loves And Past Hurts:

this shit suck lol

[dennisboobs]

my favourite thing about the always sunny podcast is listening to rcg all say something extremely neurodivergent and then agree amongst themselves and convince themselves its completely normal

[unicornsaures]

fell madly in love with @stasiaorleanka 's idea of alex n john reincarnated as girls and so in average Doli fashion im obligated to draw at least one of them

[whollyjoly]

all this dirt, it's been dug before

cause all, all this dirt it's been dug before and all, all you're doing is tracking it across my floor (and let, let my dogs lie)

Another Cowboy Moodboard for a member of the Easy Ranch, James "Moe" Alley.

...let's just say he's tired of all the bullshit, and would rather be a cowboy. And really, who can blame him?

Check out the other #easy ranch moodboards here!

Bull (by @malarkgirlypop) Malarkey (by @malarkgirlypop) Nixon (by @footprintsinthesxnd) Gene (by @footprintsinthesxnd) Speirs (by @footprintsinthesxnd) Alton (by @whollyjoly) Bill (by @samwinchesterslostshoe) Dick (by @bloodstainedsaint) Winnix (by @georgieluz) Sheriff George Luz (by @georgieluz) Babe (by @xxluckystrike) Toye (by @next-autopsy)

Song is Dry Dirt (Stripped) by The Bones of J.R. Jones

Alley screencaps by the incredible @ronald-speirs!!

Other photo sources: x x x x x x x

Tags: @malarkgirlypop @footprintsinthesxnd @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @bloodstainedsaint @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs

[rainwalker-dragonblade29]

After the Spine fight, Raya explaining her six year journey and what all happened so far...

Raya: so when I didn't find Sisu in the boat I—

Tong: wait. So, you're telling me that you've stolen from Fang, bribed a kid, raided the Talon chief's house and now what's left? Plotting against Fang!?

Raya, nervous chuckle: .... ah well... it's not really plotting its—

Tong, shrugs: you don't have a very good legal record for a princess if you ask me.

Raya, snapping back: HEY! THOSE THINGS MAY BE ILLEGAL BUT I DID THEM LAWFULLY!

[sunnykeysmash]

the structure in mac and dennis break up

this is gonna be a short post tbh, I just rewatched the episode and I have a couple of thoughts.

if you need a refresher on what I think the structure is in general, I talk about it here.

I think Mac and Dennis Break Up shows us an example of Mac and Dennis (and Charlie and Frank) working properly in regards to the structure, let me explain why:

First... I don't think there's a need for me to describe the plot of the episode, we all know.

What I want to focus on, is that at one point Mac moves in with Frank and Charlie, and starts bringing his way of life to them.

At first, Frank is thrilled.

"I could use a little structure in my life here." he says.

This reminds me of dialogue from Carries a Corpse.

"Nobody admit this to Mac, but... I feel like he was carrying a ton of weight."

"That would be another one of his annoying identities... the man who could carry stuff."

He's been shown carrying Dennis, on top of generally being inclined to micromanage, take care of others so they're safe, and make decisions or at least demand to be consulted in them (like which movie to watch on movie night).

That's when Mac works best, so I assume that Mac generally brings structure (or is a man of action, as he describes it).

Later on, we see Mac take this too far, and Frank doesn't like it anymore. To me, this is because what this episode tells us is that Charlie and Frank don't work well with a set structure, the way that Mac provides. They're more free.

I think this reading is important because it shows me why The Gang Gets Romantic fundamentally fails in its objective (not as an episode god forbid, I mean in the narrative, especially for Mac and Dennis).

It applies the romcom structure to Charlie and Frank, while it doesn't to Mac and Dennis, when it should be the opposite. Throughout the episode we see that Mac and Dennis keep fitting the tropes to the romcom structure, but they refuse to follow it, and thus it crumbles. It can't work.

Here's another thing.

Dennis' back broke in the S15 finale.

That is funny, yes, but what does this mean when I say that Mac is the (his) structure, then?

Well... Carries a Corpse implies that Mac was carrying most of the weight of the corpse, and the corpse is meant to be the show... and most show meta is basically the same as Dennis meta (most meta lines seem to relate to him, whether the fact he left for north dakota and came back, or the fact he's a dad, being between life and death, breaking his back aka the structure, and so on), as I have discussed better in my other post.

Point being, Mac carries Dennis. That's what he's meant to do, and what he does best in their relationship.

This makes me think of another recent scene that I think is emblematic of their dynamic... but in an interesting way.

So, in 2020: a Year in Review, Mac and Dennis work together on a song.

They seem to be in harmony, but eventually start disagreeing and stop altogether to focus on something else. Why?

Because Dennis is working on the backup vocals, and Mac is working on the words. Which means their roles are reversed. Mac is supposed to be carrying the song, like the wind beneath his wings that he is, and Dennis, like the man of words that he is, should be responsible for the lyrics. They're doing each other's job, which means any harmony they reach is still bound to crack a bit the moment the song doesn't work for them.

Their seating position on their sofa reflects this.

Compare it to Mac and Dennis Break Up, which is supposed to be our ideal.

They're in each other's places, in 2020.

This isn't new, they've been sitting in each other's places ever since Break Up. Mac was sitting in Dennis' place in MFHP, Dennis was sitting in Mac's place in Gets Romantic.

So tl;dr... Mac and Dennis work well under structure, when Mac is the one to bring it and carry Dennis. They fit a proper couple structure after all. Charlie and Frank don't work as well under structure, since their relationship is more unique and doesn't quite abide by normal rules because of that.

This does bring me to one last consideration though...

They're back in their right spots, in season 16! Only problem is... couch is different. I would argue an inflatable couch doesn't offer the same amount of support (structure) that a normal one would...

Now that Dennis' structural essence broke, is he gonna feel what it's like when Mac is absent?

Perhaps this is why in Cursed we get Mac as the lucky one while the others as so unlucky they start to believe they're cursed (according to the synopsis...).

So the whole gang needs Mac?

Well...

In Goes To Hell pt2, when they build the human pyramid, it's both Mac and Dennis that end up at the bottom, as its structure.

So maybe... Dennis needs Mac as his structure, and the gang needs them to be in sync so they can both, together, support them (or shut the hell up about it, as both madbu and s15 would argue). Maybe this realization could be what brings the gang to work together in order to get them together. But that's getting into just speculation so imma end it here.

I like these thoughts though... Mac and Dennis being the foundation, the structure of the whole thing :)

[tangledinink]

Leo frowned a bit.  “You know I already tried melatonin, right?” “It’s not melatonin, dummy,” Mikey sighed, rolling his eyes as he twisted the pill bottle open, grabbing Leo’s hand so that he could shake one of the little gummies out into his palm. “It’s weed. Obviously.”

Leo and Mikey take edibles. That's it, that's the whole fic. :) A TMWN one-shot; takes place prior to main fic, so no need to be caught up! Read it on ao3 or below the cut!

Though Leo had, admittedly, been a bit jumpy and out of it today, (okay, fine, the past few days,) he was still pretty sure he was justified in his yelp when a hand latched onto his wrist, yanking him sharply inside the apartment as soon as the front door was open and hip-checking it shut behind him.

“Jesus CHRIST, Mikey! Were you waiting for me to get home just so you could do that!? Is this supposed to be revenge for the thing with your Twitter account and profile pic? ‘Cause that was definitely Donnie and not me--”

“The thing with the what now?! What’d you-- you know what, nevermind. Shut up,” Mikey said, promptly darting past Leo and ducking under his arm in order to lock the door shut behind him.

Leo blinked slowly.

“Dude. What are you doing?”

Mikey turned to face him, his hands on his hips.

“Is Donnie at his robotics meet?”

“... Yeah?”

“And Dad, too?”

“Yeah? Mikey--”

“And Raph is at football practice?”

“Angie, what is your deal?” Leo sighed loudly, scrubbing at his face tiredly as he tilted his head back in annoyance. What the fuck was with Mikey all of a sudden!? And why was he being interrogated? Like, okay, look, he knew that he kind of spooked him the other day with that whole… falling down the stairs thing. But he was totally fine! Just some bruises. It was so not that big of a deal! Leo just… hadn’t been paying attention.

… And, yeah, okay, sure. You could, in theory, argue that the fact that he hadn’t slept for more than three hours or so in about as many days had something to do with that. But that was all just conjecture! They had no evidence! 

“Good,” Mikey said, quite decisively, clapping his hands together and narrowing his eyes at the other, his lips pursed as he stared at him for just a moment before he pointed at him, almost accusingly.

“You need to sleep.”

Oh, great. Here we go. Leo rolled his eyes, bristling.

“Wow, seriously? You think so? What a crazy smart suggestion! And so unique and original! Gosh, thank you, Miguel, I never would have thought of that on my own! Sleeping! That’s a great idea! I’ll go do that now, since it’s so simple and easy to do, except actually no it’s not!” He hissed, throwing his arms up in annoyance.

What, did he think he didn’t try? Because he had tried desperately! He would love to be sleeping right now! He had spent countless hours over the past week staring at the ceiling in his dark room, meditating, and listening to the endless droning of sleep podcasts. He had guzzled down melatonin like it was going out of style to no avail. He had taken trazodone, for god’s sake, and even that didn’t put him down for more than an hour or two. 

Mikey pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and pursing his lips, giving the other a long look.

“Are you done yet?”

Leo scowled. 

He blinked slowly at the other.

He crossed his arms over his chest, too, echoing the other’s posture.

And then finally he grumbled and nodded.

“Okay, good. C’mon,” Mikey replied quickly, grabbing Leo’s wrist once more and heading up the stairs at a hurried pace. Leo swore softly, stumbling a bit, but followed and kept pace anyway, jogging up to the second floor and following his brother, who didn’t slow down until they were in his room, the door shut behind him.

“Okay,” Mikey said, turning once again to face the other, reaching over to grab him by his shoulders. “You need to sleep. We agree on this. Right?”

Leo raised a brow. “... Right?”

“And you trust me. Right?”

“... Yeah?”

“Because I’m your brother. We’re family.”

“... As far as I’m aware…” Leo said slowly, narrowing his eyes.

“And you!” Mikey added in, pointing accusingly. “Are the one who taught me the snitches get stitches rule, right? That’s your rule. You are the main enforcer of said rule! So you believe in the rule! Right?”

“Mikey, what are you--”

“True or false, Leo!”

“... Yeah. Okay. True. What the fuck are you about to try to do to me, Miguel?” He sighed. “Because if your intention is to knock me out via blunt force trauma, Donnie and I already tried that--”

“Okay, well, we’ll unpack that later,” Mikey chirped cheerily, shoving Leo in the general direction of the bed, gesturing to him a bit before he darted off. Leo pouted, but sat down anyway, kicking his shoes off and curling up. If Mikey was gonna try to hypnotize him or something after all this drama, he was going to be so fucking mad.

Slumped down against the copious amounts of pillows and stuffed animals (his collection rivaled only by Raph’s,) on Mikey’s bed, he watched as his baby brother threw open his closet, kicking a storage bin over to hop up on top of. Once he had the necessary height from his make-shift step-stool, he reached up, rummaging around for a bit on the top shelf. After a bit of shuffling and rearranging he finally pulled down a milk crate, and from that, he fished out a small painted chest-- one that Leo recognized as his music box from when they were little, decorated with little painted rainbows and unicorns on every side that, no, Leo had not been jealous of when Mikey got it at the age of six, thank you very much. 

Holding the music box under one arm, Mikey hopped back down and scampered over to re-join Leo on the bed. Inside the music box was an even smaller box-- this one Leo pegged as the box for the tarot cards Mikey had convinced April to buy him at that craft fair they went to two summers ago. He did readings with them from time to time, just for fun, not that Leo thought that they really meant anything. They were more a pretty trinket than anything else. Though Leo noted quietly to himself, didn’t Mikey keep his cards in a little velvet pouch, actually, now that he thought about it?

“Mikey, if you actually think now is a good time to do a tarot reading--”

“Well, I could after this if you want,” Mikey said brightly in reply, and when he cracked open the tarot card deck, there were, in fact, not any cards inside at all. Rather, there was a little orange bottle that Leo immediately clocked as one from one of Mikey’s Adderall prescriptions. But after a slightly closer inspection, he could already see that there weren’t any pills inside said bottle.

It looked more like candy.

Leo frowned a bit. 

“You know I already tried melatonin, right?”

“It’s not melatonin, dummy,” Mikey sighed, rolling his eyes as he twisted the pill bottle open, grabbing Leo’s hand so that he could shake one of the little gummies out into his palm. “It’s weed. Obviously.”

Leo stayed quiet for a moment, silently processing this.

And then his mouth fell open into a perfect ‘o.’

“HAMATO MICHELANGELO--”

“YOU AGREED!” Mikey shrieked, rearing back to point wildly at the other. “YOU ALREADY AGREED TO NO SNITCHING! NO BACKSIES!!!”

“Where the fuck did you get edibles!?” Leo cried.

Mikey threw up his hands in response. “I’m in the art club, Leo!!!”

Leo gasped. “Sarah is a weed dealer, isn’t she?! I totally called it!!!”

“No!” Mikey protested. “... Well, okay, yeah. But I get mine from Kody. So I think you only get half points?”

“Oh my god,” Leo gaped. “Since when!?”

“Likkeeee, last February?”

“What?!”

“You are being, like, so much less chill about this than I thought you’d be,” Mikey sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. “Look. It’s not a big deal! I promise! It’s, like, a special occasion once-every-few-months kind of thing. And at least for me,” he gestured to himself. “I always end up passing out, like… so hard,” he explained. “You don’t gotta take any if you don’t want to! I’m just saying. It might help. And you haven’t tried it yet. Sooo…”

He sort of shrugged.

Leo frowned, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Okay. Well.

On one hand… If he got caught, by either their dad or by, like, anyone involved in any of his many copious sports teams, he’d definitely be in, like… so much trouble.

On the other hand… Mikey had gone this long without getting caught. And Mikey was, like, way less sneaky than he was. And what were the odds that he was going to be subjected to a drug test or something anytime in the near future, really? He had never been drug tested before, (just threatened with it,) and they were still really early in the season, before any big, high-stakes meets or matches would be cropping up…

And Mikey did have a point. He hadn’t tried it yet. And it might help. And he did, like… really wanna sleep. 

Like. So bad.

… And also. I mean. It’s not like he wasn’t curious.

---

How long until they kick in? He had asked. I dunno if it’s working, he had said. Maybe it wasn’t enough-- should I take another? He had questioned. (No, Mikey had said.)

(That was probably for the best.)

“Mikey.”

“Hm?”

“I want a peanut butter jelly sandwich, like… so much,” Leo muttered dimly, staring up at the ceiling of Mikey’s room. He had been examining the little glow-in-the-dark stars up there for a while there, noting that it had been some time since he had actually taken notice of them. Man. They were so cool. He should get some for his room. Note to self: ask Dad about that later.

Mikey was flopped over on the bed with him, his head sort of laid across Leo’s ankles as he drew something in his sketchbook, and he glanced over at his brother, smirking a little and raising a brow.

“We have the stuff to make one if you want,” he pointed out. (I mean, technically, they only kept almond butter in the house, because this was a peanut-free space, thank you very much, but basically the same thing.)

“Fuck yes,” Leo enthused. “I love those things, dude. Do we have-- do we have the raspberry jelly? ‘Cause that shit is honestly so good.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” Mikey hummed, setting his sketchbook to the side so that he could begin to get up.

“Hey,” Leo said, frowning a bit as he rolled over onto his side. “... I think grape jelly is a scam.”

Mikey snorted softly, raising a brow. “Uh, elaborate?”

“Okay,” Leo agreed, eager to lay out his logic. “What’s your favorite fruit?”

“I mean, I don’t not like grapes--”

“No no no no!” Leo protested, shaking his head sharply. “What’s your favorite fruit though?”

“Uhmmmm,” Mikey tilted his head to the side for a second. “Cantaloupe. Or lychee! Or mango. It’s a three-way tie,” he declared, and Leo pointed a finger.

“Exactly!” He cried. “Exactly! See? No one’s favorite fruit is grapes! Like-- they don’t exist! No one’s favorite fruit is grapes!”

Mikey laughed. “So?”

“So!” Leo threw out his hands. “No one would want to get grape jelly! ‘Cause it’s no one’s favorite fruit! There are so many other better fruits! So they had to figure out a way to get rid of all the grape jelly! So that’s why they tricked us all into thinking that grape jelly is, like. The jelly. And made peanut-butter-jelly sandwiches with grape jelly. Instead of any other jellies. Which are better. Because peanut-butter-jelly sandwiches with raspberry jelly is like? So much fucking better, dude. Or strawberry, even. Or anything! Because grapes are just okay! So they have to make the people think that that’s the default ‘cause otherwise grape jelly would be completely screwed, bro!”

“Wow,” Mikey hummed, grinning, resting his head in his hand as he stared at the other. “You are so high.”

Leo just giggled in response, letting his head fall back down, pointing at the other. “You did this to me, Angelo. This is your doing. You must reap what you’ve sown… You made me like this…!”

“Heck yeah I did,” Mikey confirmed, puffing out his chest proudly as he got up to his feet. “Come on. Do you want the sandwich or not?”

“Yessss…” Leo hummed, pulling himself up into a sitting position. Oh wow. Moving was great. Everything felt kind of tingly and wobbly in this really fun way? It was like one of those aluminum sheets that you wiggled and it made that really funny wub-wub-wub sound. Except, like… instead of just sound it was just…

Everything.

Yo, weed was kind of dope, actually. 

“Yo, weed is kind of dope, actually.”

“I told you,” Mikey said, seeming rather smug with himself. 

“I’m having a good time.”

“Yeah, it’s fun,” Mikey agreed, reaching to grab the other by the wrist, beginning to pull them up to their feet.

“Bro, why didn’t you take any? This is great. We could do a Smash Bros tournament except high,” Leo enthused, and Mikey scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I can’t get high, I’m watching you!”

“Why?”

“I dunno. To make sure you don’t freak out or whatever. You’ve never been high before,” Mikey reasoned. “That’s just basic weed courtesy! It’s weed 101!”

Leo blinked slowly, considering this.

“Well, how long have I been high?”

Mikey shrugged a bit, fishing out his phone to check.

“Uhhh. Like. An hour and a half?”

“Well, then, am I good?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I probably would have freaked out already if I was gonna, right? So, like… am I good yet?”

Mikey wrinkled his nose, considering this for a bit.

“Well… I guess so. You’re probably fine.”

Leo reached over to grab his little brother’s shoulders, shaking him.

“Then let’s do Smash Bros Tournament except high!”

Mikey snorted, laughing loudly as he batted the other away.

“... Are you sure?”

“Yeah! I wanna do Smash Bros Tournament! Except high! I’m so good, Mikey! Lookit how hard I’m not freaking out! I’m being, like… so normal right now.”

Mikey seemed to consider this for a little bit, and then he shrugged.

“Yeah, okay.”

---

Leo had found that, in the time that he had been high thus far, he had a lot to say. He had a lot to think about and lots of thoughts to share with everyone around him (ie Mikey,) and while he overall just felt really cool and floaty and good, there was also an ever-so-slight element of brightness to it. Like-- everything was just kind of really funny right now. He was feeling very thoughtful and imaginative, so to speak. His brain was all scattered, but not in a way that felt bad-- just loose. He just wanted to discuss things! Like! Dude, IHOP? That place is the best. We should talk about that. And what’s better, pancakes or waffles? And dude, who do you think would win in, like, an actual for-real battle, Ho-Oh or Lugia? Be honest.

He was a bit surprised to find that Mikey, when high, wasn’t really any of those things.

For the most part, he was pretty normal.

Just… slowed down.

When they spoke now, it took just a tiny bit longer than usual for Mikey to respond, and his manner of speaking itself had shifted slightly to drag, allowing for longer pauses in between each word. He just seemed so very content and unbothered that he was in no rush to do anything at all, including thinking or speaking, and there was this slight shade of lazy amusement layered over everything he did. Leo, of course, found this all to be very funny. He spent a good deal of time just asking Mikey random questions and then giggling over the way he gave his answers, finding it absolutely delightful how he paused to think about it and then reported his opinion in this soft, humming tone.

And they were having so much fucking fun.

The pair of them were all piled together on the couch in The Lair, half tangled in each other’s limbs. The bid for pb-and-j had evolved into quite the cacophony of snacks, and the carnage of their munchies laid at their feet in tatters as they battled their way through their fourteenth round of Smash Bros.

“Dude, how do you keep beating me?” Leo whined, leaning in slightly towards the screen, as though that might help.

“‘Cause you always choose Kirby,” Mikey hummed in reply, slumping against the pillows in contrast. “And you suck at playing Kirby.”

“I do not!”

“Yeah-huh.”

“I’m great at Kirby. I’m the master of Kirby. Me and Kirby, we understand each other. We’re basically family. Kirby is basically my long-lost brother is how good I am at Kirby.”

“Then why do you keep losing?” Mikey countered lazily, grinning a little bit, and Leo giggled in response.

“You have an unfair advantage of not being high for the first time ever,” Leo countered, and Mikey just laughed in response.

“Kirby is cool. He’s like-- a little guy. The coolest little round dude ever. I love that dude. And I can make him blue!” Leo enthused. “And he’s. Like. My dude. Once you find your guy, you have to stick with that guy, Mikey! It’s. Like… a calling. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“You’re only a year older than me.”

“Okay? So, like… give it a year.”

Mikey snorted softly, shaking his head a bit and sticking out his tongue as he wrapped up the game neatly, murdering the shit out of blue Kirby and bringing home yet another Smash Bros victory. Leo groaned loudly, flopping back over the couch and kicking his legs up, comfortably contorting himself into an absolutely asinine position-- one of his favorite things to do. 

“We should play Mario Kart next. I’ll beat you at Mario Kart.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mikey agreed easily, waving a hand a bit. “Put it on then.”

“Why do I gotta do it?”

“‘Cause I gave you free weed.”

Leo groaned loudly, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, okay, finneeeeeee,” he mumbled, getting to his feet, (with only a little bit of a wobble,) making his way over to the console so he could begin picking his way through their, quite frankly, ridiculous collection of video games, looking to fish out Mario Kart so he could get it set up.

And, like, yes, okay. Maybe he got a little bit distracted. But someone put the Red Dead Redemption 2 disc in the Cyberpunk case and obviously he could not let that stand! That needed to be corrected, like, immediately, and then the disc that was in the Red Dead Redemption case had to be relocated, too…

But, I mean, it didn’t take that long. Probably. 

And now their DVDs were organized!

“Okay, all set,” Leo hummed, turning back around to face his brother… who had an absolute hundred-yard stare, gazing off into nothing with his mouth slightly agape. Leo frowned a bit.

“Mikey.”

Silence.

“... Mikey.”

Nope.

“... Mikey!”

There he is. Mikey blinked a bit in surprise, glancing back over at him, processing for a moment, and then laughing. “Oh. Sorry. I wasn’t listening. I just had a really cool idea for a mural… Hang on. I wanna sketch it out so I don’t forget…” He said, quickly fishing out his phone and beginning to draw with his finger, his tongue stuck out in concentration. Leo huffed a bit.

“Okay, fine, just don’t take forever. I wanna do stoned Mario Kart,” Leo insisted, moving to flop back over onto the couch, curling up on his side. Mikey gave a little hum in response, but didn’t spare him much else, clearly sucked into his project.

Leo did his best to entertain himself in the meantime. He scrolled blindly through Instagram for a while, liking a bunch of pics that he would probably get in trouble for later, though who’s really to say? Once he got bored with that, he drafted and deleted about eight different tweets, just barely managing to wrestle his inner demon down into its cage and exercise some impulse control. And he flicked through TikTok for a while, but didn’t really find anything of interest on his ForYou page. And Mikey was still going strong, so…

For a little bit. He was just. Bored.

He hummed softly, curled up on the couch, pulling at one of his curls absently and examining it as he went-- pulling it out straight, and then letting it bounce back, giggling a tiny bit to himself at the motion of it. He remembered when he was little and he and his brother’s would have arguments over who had the curliest hair-- as if it were really ever a competition. They’d do that for everything though-- always trying to see who was the ‘most’ or ‘best’ at any one thing.

He remembered, vaguely, back before April’s mom taught him how to do it properly, his dad sitting with them for hours in front of the computer, one by one, watching YouTube tutorials and trying to tame their hair for them. He smiled a bit at the thought. He had hated it at the time, whining about being bored and having to sit still, annoyed with his father messing with his hair and pulling at it… but now, the memory was… kind of sweet.

He hadn’t thought about that in a really long time, he thought vaguely to himself, sighing very softly. 

It was almost weird to suddenly confront such an old, forgotten memory like that out of the blue. But not unwelcome. It was nice, actually, and he laid his head down against the pillows with a sigh, allowing himself to bask in the warmth of it for a while, running through images of his childhood, playing them on loop.

And somewhere along the way, he realized, vaguely in the back of his head, that he was sleepy.

Usually, at times like these, this moment would be followed swiftly by disappointment. He’d be laying in his bed, trying desperately to get to sleep, absolutely praying for it to take him and knock him the fuck out, and he’d realized that it was happening, he was getting sleepy-- only for the excitement of it to promptly kick a shot of adrenaline through his body, spooking the sensation and scaring it off, leaving him perfectly awake once more and writhing with frustration (which of course only worsened matters.)

But he didn’t feel that right now. He was just kind of aware of it, smiling the tiniest bit at the thought, curling up a bit tighter in on himself and wrapping his arms around the pillow he was snuggled up against to cling to.

Everything was so oddly calm. Pebbled and loose and wobbly, but in a good way, and right now, mostly just calm. And sleepy. His eyelids were heavy. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. Like he was sinking into sleep rather than fighting his way into it tooth and claw. Like it was inviting him in instead of him kicking down the door with a battle cry, bloody and bruised. He was just… ready to sleep. He was never ready to sleep.

Man, this was cool. Marijuana fucking slapped.

He played with his own hair for just a little longer before he yawned, humming very softly.

“Mmmm… Hey Mikey?”

“Yeah?” Mikey replied, after a long beat of delay, not looking up at him.

“‘M gonna go to sleep now, I think.”

“Okay. That’s a good idea.”

“Okay. Thanks.” 

“Yeah. It’s cool. G’night.”

“G’night,” Leo mumbled, laying his head down and allowing his eyes to slide shut.

[plan-3-tmars]

okay i know I preach about voting however you want because that's the point of milgram but I genuinely don't know how you can listen to kazui's voice drama and then vote him guilty

kazui is litteraly asking es to give him a reason to stop lying (cough cough an innocent vote)

an innocent vote is NOT going to make Kazui think what he did was right, nor that lying was a good call. He didn't think that in Trial 1, he hasn't shown any signs of thinking that in Trial 2 and that is not the thought process he will go down in Trial 3!!!

He's not asking for his lies to he forgiven, he's asking to be FREED from them. The guilt of what his lies caused now more then ever is waying so heavily down on him that he just wants to see a reason that tells him that telling the truth will be okay and that his 'sin' is not this horrible thing that he or others around him chalks itself to be

[randomgooberness]

Gordon should NOT get a biological hand back(if he does it’s busted to all hell and mostly numb). And any prosthetic he gets sucks ass unless it has a cartoony switchable feature that lets him adapt to certain tasks because even high tech prosthetic hands with the correct reaction speeds will never beat gun arm if your goal is shooting something.

What im saying is he makes a million different hands for himself to the point where he has “fork hand” and “screwdriver hand” and “scissor hand” ect

[pinkyjulien]

Mitch Anderson | 255/?? | 🧣🌈

[emily-mooon]

Happy birthday Will!

In honorary of this day, I shall share my favourite moment/quote of his:

The time he asked his brother the reason why he has no friends is because he’s a freak.

And the time he woke his friends up at the crack of dawn on summer vacation to play dnd because all day yesterday they said no.

[akkivee]

skimmed thru the guidebook myself!!!! here’s what i thought was neat about it!!!

the book cover was warning text all over it lol and it reads:

‘hypnosis mic has the power to interfere with people’s minds. when handling it, please be mindful of the extent to which its users’ influence can reach. furthermore, possession of a hypnosis mic that is not authorised by the chuuoku is subject to strict legal penalties’

within the pages, there’s another warning that’s partially blocked off by the graphics, but is advising to thoroughly read thru the guidelines for optimal functionality for failure to do can cause errors, malfunctions and other issues lol

pretty sure said pages are of the box the hypnosis mics are delivered in lol

the current era relationship chart is insane lmao like there are so many arrows. if it’s important, there’s probably an arrow for it lol

a handful of timeline events were removed in favour of including info about everything all the way up to the music festival. most of these removed events were when individuals met each other, eg dohifu meeting, rei and otome meeting

i think it’s just funny lmao but the section in bb’s story talking about jiro and saburo’s jobs to get ichiro to consider making a team with them, they included a silhouette of some woman to represent hifumi’s stalker LOL

did they update the official site with rei’s blood type??? if they didn’t, he’s type a 🤔

according to dh’s most important persons page, rei and otome stopped seeing eye to eye about the true hypnosis mic and the ramuda clones

the explanations for nagosaka’s abilities are neat!!!

🎋: makes the other person laugh, weakening their abilIties (tho interesting to note it’s not written with the english word ability to imply the hypnosis abilities)

🍮: informs allies, strengthening their power

0️⃣: manipulates any number of people to his own advantage

📿:enters a meditative state that increases concentration to block the opponent’s ability (ability here is written in english to imply it’s the hypnosis abilities)

🌙:gathers courage that restores own power (parallels jakurai’s ability to restore to normality when tled literally)

⚖️:with a shout, repel all attacks back at the opponent and away from allies

otome’s likes are gardening, tea, and antiques. she doesn’t like bugs or coffee. her favourite foods are pasta and risotto and she doesn’t like meat

ichijiku’s likes are ribbons, general goods, and fashion magazines. she doesn’t like pigeons or roller coasters. her favourite foods are sweets and she doesn’t like curry

nemu’s likes are making sweets and aquatic sports. she doesn’t like tobacco or lizards. her favourite food is hamburgers and she doesn’t like shellfish

the guidebook says the effects a person experiences after the true hypnosis mic is used on them varies from person to person. there are plenty of unknowns about it, including why hypnosis abilities disappear once under its influence.

the guidebook actually doesn’t have those pics of shakku and co we got in arb lmao. tho to that point it’s kinda interesting the people’s photos they do include are yotsutsuji and hanabi

[aq2003]

tlovm opening x your turn to roll (hd)