#stop tobacco

[muckyschmuck]

his first ever binder. ever

[podcastfaggot]

*elias voice* hitting the bong is like sex to me. it’s phallic, jonathan.

[clannfearrunt]

The worm has moved to the bigger buffalo bur... very good at munching

[neechees]

Really stressed about like tiktok ndns sharing Spirituality & knowledge they really do not have to be, or should be sharing. With all the high rises of pretendians & hippies selling appropriated stuff, you'd think they'd be reluctant to talk about this stuff instead of being content to share for likes on tiktok. You don't have to "educate" people on Native spirituality, White people literally do not need to know that, and there's lots of culture vultures who are probably using you as fodder for their pretendian identity theyre about to make up.

[slingerapen]

I need to drink more wine with mommy

- bruno

[todayisafridaynight]

okay no but I will simply NEVER get over the radioactive cancer on the real 😭😭😭 like you’re telling me the people at RGG didn’t think the DECADES worth of smoking, fast food and overdosing on caffeine (or whatever the hell staminan is made of) is not a valid enough cause 😭😭

no you see it was the RADIATION from the RADIATION FACTORY that did him in. fucking DUH stupid idiot

[luvsavos]

random vent(?) in the tags, feel free to ignore i just have a lot of pent up emotions to get out today apparently

[tadpoleatemybrain]

Johnny after getting shit faced on moonshine from the tiefling party

J: (I wonder if Halsin'll share his pipeweed )

[theflyingfeeling]

...💩

[vvatchword]

Only Man: Bailout

It was six in the evening when Sinclair finally thought to grab a bite to eat. The press had been unusually delighted with him, swarming his workplace, his office, his walk to Point Prometheus. Worse than wading through a mud slick—and made him late to every single affair that demanded leaving the office.

“This is the second time you’ve paid Topside’s debt, and it was a real chunk of change,” said one journo. “Tell us, what brought about this kind of selfless behavior from one of Rapture’s greats?”

Sinclair dramatically dropped his jaw and scoffed.

“Why, how dare you, sir!” he said. “We may not have laws against libel down here, but…”

The crowd of journalists laughed.

“Don’t let it be said I did this for anything more selfish than a friend’s company,” Sinclair drawled. “Don’t tell me there isn’t some friend you wouldn’t bail out just for the pleasure of seeing them pleased.”

For sustenance that evening, he chose the Silver Fork, a five-star in Fort Frolic. The only other choice was Tate’s, and he wasn’t feeling that charitable.

He had only just sat down when he glanced up and saw Ryan striding toward him.

“Why, Andy Ryan!” Sinclair rose from his seat, eyes twinkling. “Fancy seeing you ’round these parts.”

They shook, but Ryan said nothing. All that spoke were his eyes.

“Won’t you sit down?” Sinclair asked, gesturing at the table. “I haven’t ordered yet.”

Ryan lowered to the booth opposite Sinclair, only looking down to find an ashtray.

“So, what brings you to this corner of the Fort?”

“You paid off Topside’s debt.” Ryan put his cigarette out. “Again.”

“Guilty as charged.” Sinclair settled back with his menu, legs crossed, one foot kicking.

“Sinclair.”

“M-hm.”

“What do you mean to prove with this Topside business?”

“Prove?” Sinclair lowered his menu, smiling. “Why, I just want to keep a good friend out of trouble, is all.”

Ryan’s expression rarely faltered; it did here. A faint flicker of disgust flashed across his face.

“He is a parasite.”

“He is a fool, and a very entertaining one at that,” Sinclair said. He turned to the waitress, who had just appeared. “I’ll take the Arcadia, red, 1953. Thanks, sugar.”

Ryan waved her away before speaking again.

“You can measure the greatness of a man by the company he keeps,” he said.

“So I hear,” Sinclair said.

“Does he value intellect? Ability? Art?” Ryan cocked his head. “Or is he a beast rutting in the field?”

Sinclair nodded. “Mm-hmm. Very true. How’s Ms. Jolene doin’, by the by?”

Ryan’s gaze snapped up. Sinclair smiled at him over the curl of his wrist. The silence between them stretched for an uncomfortable minute before Sinclair finally cleared his throat.

“Look, Andrew.” Sinclair dropped his foot and his smile, sat back, and gave him the most solemn, constipated look he possibly could. “The kid is harmless. And when I say ‘kid,’ I mean he’s a kid. He has no idea what he’s doing. He can’t do a thing to Rapture except make it laugh.”

“When he flaunts his freedom, the city does more than laugh,” Ryan said. “It sits up. It takes notice. And the darker elements…” He closed his eyes. “The darker elements cheer him on.”

“Who, Fontaine?”

Ryan’s eyes flashed open.

Sinclair chuckled. “Fontaine doesn’t laugh or cheer. At least, not conventionally. Now, he likes you pissed off—ah, if you’ll pardon the expression—but he doesn’t spend half as much time thinking about you as you do about him.” Sinclair pointed at him with his empty cigarette holder. “Look, Andrew, you’re lettin’ these nobodies eat you up from the inside out. And they’re nobodies, you get me? Nobody’s as big as you.”

“Fontaine is hardly a ‘nobody.’”

“All right, I’ll give you that. But Topside is.” Sinclair looked into his breast pocket, raised his brows, and tucked the empty holder into his mouth.

Ryan’s eye fell to his pocket, drifted up to his eyes. “You yourself, Sinclair… sometimes I wonder.”

Sinclair smiled. “About what?”

“Whose side you are really on.”

“Capital’s, naturally.” Sinclair shrugged. “Thought we came down here to avoid all that, ah… ‘side’ nonsense.”

“There have always been sides, Sinclair. There is the philosophy and there are parasites. There is the philosophy and there are those who make a mockery of it.” Ryan drew another cigarette from his pocket. Oxford brand. He had been their spokesman for a time.

“The philosophy is about the dollar, so I’m all about the philosophy,” Sinclair said. “Look, you have nothing to worry about with me, chief. I’m a sensible man. But I am just a man, with a man’s needs. Same as you’ve got, I reckon.” His accent turned dramatic, his smile sarcastic. “I’d like this boy’s friendship and I can’t have it when he’s dangling from a ceiling. If you take the trouble to paint him up into a bogeyman, well… I’ll just say it: that’s less about him and more about you.”

Ryan’s lip curled. “Are you saying I lie, Mr. Sinclair?”

“Oh, lord, no. Not you.”

“Then,” Ryan said, snapping his lighter, “who is the liar here?”

“If you want to find a liar, I’m sure you’ll find one,” Sinclair said. His own eyes had grown dark and shuttered. Ryan gazed upon the same cold and unreadable expression as his own. Neither man blinked. Their standoff was broken only when the waitress returned with a glass, sliding it in front of Sinclair. It was Sinclair who blinked first, turning with a light cough.

“Ah, thank you, honey,” Sinclair said. “You sure you don’t want a drink, Andy? I’m payin’.”

“No. Thank you.” Ryan waved the waitress away. “Tell me, Sinclair. How much of your money is wrapped up in Fontaine’s matters?”

“About the same amount as is wrapped up in yours,” Sinclair said. “Ask your friends at Mulligan’s. They give you that information already, I presume.”

Ryan’s frown deepened. “You bought into Fontaine’s oxygen supply last I heard.”

“Oh, he’s gobblin’ things up right and left, chief!” Sinclair said, clapping himself on the chest. “And I’ve seen his delivery system. Just spectacular. Improves quality by every measurable standar…”

“Do you hear yourself?” Ryan asked.

Sinclair blinked. “Well, I’d hope so. I just put a helluva a lot of money in that thing.”

“Fontaine is taking the city.” Ryan said it to the table more than to Sinclair. He lifted his eyes. “And you are enabling him.”

For a moment, Sinclair was struck dumb. His eyes locked on Ryan’s, his mouth pursed up in what was trying to turn into a laugh.

“Pardon me?” he asked at last.

“Fontaine cares nothing for the philosophy,” Ryan said. “And he is poisoning this city one charity at a time. Surely you’ve seen it.”

“Andy, I must admit, I’m a mite confused,” Sinclair said, cocking his head. “Yes, he runs charities, but that’s his money. I’m not funding those. I’m funding the end to obesity and the latest synthetics for a pale complexion. Be reasonable, man. Ah, one second.”

Sinclair waved down his waitress, pointed at something on his menu, made a face, muttered something about the cook or the cut, and shooed her off.

“My apologies,” he said, clearing his throat. “Didn’t eat lunch. Are you sure you wouldn’t like…”

“Do you think he supports those wretches on his efforts alone?” Ryan asked.

“His money ain’t my money,” Sinclair said. “Once it passes hands it’s outta my control. I’m gettin’ what I asked for—the cure for, ah—cancer, baldness, even mortality—and a tidy profit on top all that—so why should I demand any more? Oh, I’ll say it, chief: this is unlike you. You gettin’ enough rest down there?”

“Is everything a joke to you?” Ryan asked softly. “Do you not see the city transforming beneath us? There could be no Lamb without Fontaine. There could be no Topside without Fontaine.”

“Andy, what the hell…”

“There could be no poorhouses, no orphanages, no bread lines. Already I see their little signs: ‘Ryan Does Not Own Us.’ For instead of raising themselves, they seek to degrade me. And if you believe they will stop with my head…”

“Let me stop you right there,” Sinclair said. “Now I read your essays on the philosophy. I even read your attempts at fiction, god bless your soul. And I’m tryin’ to think of a single instance where honest businessmen were cowing others into givin’ ’em more of a hand than they deserve. You should remember them, seein’ as you wrote it: those were the villains.”

“You accuse me of offering bribes?” Ryan spat.

“What do you mean by asking how much of my money goes into Fontaine’s coffers, then?” Sinclair asked. “Tell me, Andy—you’d rather I pour all my money into Arcadia? Well, Demeter’s been pushin’ 30% more O2 than Arcadia for the last six months. More O2, faster, with better CO2 scrubbers, better moisture entrapment and recycling—hell. You name it, they’ve built it. I’ve started running it through my Drop locations and it’s startin’ to look like air quality is better down with the homeless than it is up in Apollo. Look, I’d be a fool not to invest. Hell, you’d be a fool not to look into his tech.” He threw his arms open. “Why, I figured all this was the aim of the game. As I heard a wise man say once, ‘The strong will not be constrained by the weak.’”

Ryan sighed and rose slowly to his feet. “I understand your folly now, Augustus.”

“Oh, do tell,” Sinclair said, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and jamming it into his holder.

“You believe in the dollar and nothing else,” Ryan said. “Not human integrity; not the narrow path.”

“I don’t believe in metaphysics, it’s true,” said Sinclair, and snapped his lighter. “And I thought you were the same.” He blew out a stream of smoke.

Ryan laughed soundlessly, mouthed his cigarette.

“Someday, perhaps soon, there will be a reckoning,” he said. “I will be watching you, Sinclair.”

Sinclair cracked a smile, leaning back in his booth. “Hope you like what you see. But if you don’t, do feel free to stop by for a chat. You know my door is always open.”

UPRISING: BLACK SCRAPBOOK HUB

[hiimcanadia]

Every time I see my extended family I am reminded how little I have in common with my extended family

[caeliflammae]

refusing to buy a new vape bc i dont want to contribute to exploitation in the congo but also still being addicted to vaping leads to me just chiefing on the deadest oldest nastiest vape and wondering why i feel like shit every time i hit it

[jynersq]

i know that medical knowledge =/= better health-related behaviors but it feels SO fucked up to know so many cancer researchers — who have never and would never smoke a cigar or a cigarette — vape like there’s no tomorrow……… perhaps a hot take but vaping is not and will never be completely safe. it was intended to be a temporary tool to help people quit smoking, until companies like juul realized they could make bank marketing it to kids by making it taste like cotton candy. i cannot stress enough how much you should not be inhaling unknown chemicals into your lungs!!!! especially during the global spread of a virus known to cause severe cardiopulmonary issues!!

[timeisacephalopod]

Funny that every single fat person is accused of promoting obesity for simply existing- but somehow tobacco companies aren't held similarly responsible for selling a product that causes all kinds of health risks and cancers- fat people are held accountable for their "cost" to the healthcare system but never once have I heard anyone argue for shutting down tobacco companies under the grounds of promoting and glorifying cancer and only existing to sell poison to addicted customers for the sole purposes of their own profits.

Like it's very strange how little we shit on tobacco companies for doing everything we accuse fat people of down to actually costing the healthcare system money, which I doubt fat people do more than anyone else as fat people report delaying doctors visits for as long as possible to avoid weight based discrimination. I just think it's baffling that fat people face systemic oppression for existing because we think we can Individual Choice them into being thin, but we can't Individual Choice tobacco company execs into shutting down a business that exits entirely to get people addicted to cancer causing products to the point of being an ongoing public health crisis. We can't shut up about The Obesity Epidemic ™️ but them stats on tobacco deaths? Well I guess no one can be Systemically Shamed into fixing that except the smokers whom we shame via disgusting images on the back of cigarette packages. Because somehow that's how tobacco companies can be held responsible for getting people addicted to cancer causing products, acting like the customer is responsible for the company selling it.

[mailmiocuoredipietratremaancora]

x: cannabis has to be illegal bc it makes you an addict and it’s a gateway to other drugs

me, a smoker: fuck u joints didn’t make me an addict but I haven’t smoked a cigarette in 24hrs and I’d kill for one

[mothpdf]

I bought watermelon cigarettes back in the fatherland and let me tell you Europe was right to ban this