what i say when i go to the bar

so i work at lush and the most famous person i’ve served so far is adele. one day i’m just standing there moving some bubble bars and pretending to look busy when suddenly this lady comes in with her child. i think “she looks like adele if adele didn’t wear make up” whilst i go over to greet her. she asks me what a bath bomb is. i think “hmm, she is very unexpectedly cockney, like adele.” halfway through my description of bath bombs i realise holy fuck it’s actually adele, and i end up saying “so these are bath bombs, you drop them in the water mnnnnnnand theychangecolour n fizz…..do stuff……..” and i think she realises i suddenly know who she is because she gently but firmly tells her son to pick a bomb. she gets some for herself as well. i put her through the till and i realise she looks very tired, so i don’t want to bother her, but holy fucking shit this is adele. i’ve ugly cried so many times while warbling her beautiful songs. she’s unwittingly been there through some bad times for me. i want to say something but i’m not sure what, so i fixate on her bright woolly vest and blurt out “i like your vest!” and she immediately replies, very chipper, “aw fanks it makes me look like a rare bird!” she departs and i stand there shaking while i whisper to my colleague that that was adele. this reaches the back of the shop where a birthday party for a bunch of 14 year olds is going on and my 19 year old colleague just shrieks “WHAT” at the top of his voice. all the girls clamour asking if we have security cameras to prove it actually was her and i’m like, the proof is that i have suddenly become 10 times emotionally stronger after being in her presence. i have absorbed her self love and all of my exes have crumbled into dust, dissolving away like the bath bomb she’ll be using later on that very night

Context: our small group of all first time players consists of a dragonkin wizard, a werebear fighter, and an elf bard. The dragonkin has already embarrassed himself with his low charisma after arriving at an inn, so we’re trying to get a place to stay. Our DM agreed that our elf bard could name drop her master from college in order to get us free lodging, although he is not aware of the master’s name.

Elf: I want to name drop so we can stay here.

DM: okay, go ahead, what do you say?

Elf: (to bar keep) So, believe it or not, when I was in bard college I studied under master Nickelback…

(Table dissolves into laughter)

DM: (after regaining composure) you could’ve picked anyone else. Now I have to act impressed by Master Nickelback.

I know we all have different ideas about Lena at the alien bar, hell if she would ever even step a foot inside the alien bar because why would they want her there when her family has done nothing but try to rid the planet of aliens?

But I just got this idea of what if Lena does go to the alien bar and she’s nervous as hell but disguises it with her perfect Luthor composure and Kara’s hand is wrapped tightly around her own and she’s whispering “Lena just say the word and we’ll leave.”

But this is such a big part of who Kara is and even though Lena is terrified, she wants to know every part of Kara. So she walks into the bar expecting the worst…

Only to very quickly realize that the patrons in the bar –after 5 seconds of excruciating silence followed with whispers of thanks, nods and handshakes, and the bartender saying her first round is already covered– they don’t see her as a member of the most famous alien-hating family, but as the only reason all the aliens, all of them, in National City are even alive because she destroyed the Medusa virus.

The more you forget me, the deeper I slip.
Give this silence two more months and it’ll be like we never even met at all. That’s what we both want, right?
The thought of you wanting nothing to do with me still hurts just as much as it used to.
I promise I won’t call anymore.
I won’t even say your name when I’m drunk, alone in a bar.
It won’t be so bad, right?
We always go back to each other, right?

But, what if we don’t this time?

—  Maybe we weren’t supposed to work out
Light Bulb - Part 2

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1,586

Summary: Jensen realizes his crush on the reader is not going away.

-Jensen and Danneel are married in this fic but they don’t have any kids.

Part 1

“Wait!” Jared shouts catching up to Jensen and moving in front of him.

“You’re drunk, man. This isn’t a good idea.”

Jensen rolls his eyes and pushes past him.

Jared sighs and walks close behind, hoping he’ll be able to keep his friend out of trouble.

Jensen is speed walking towards you but suddenly turns and heads toward the  bar.

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Prompt: You accidentally butt dial Dolph while you’re masturbating and leave a voicemail on his phone of you moaning and saying his name. Before you can stop him, he listens to it. Anon.

@lip-sync @emmarablack @lunaticfringe216 @amberhere-hi @thatonegirloncealways @queenreignsempire @debeauxmots @kittencutie245 @ilovesamizaynn @banrioncethlenn @screamersdontdance @redalternativefirefly @filthy-parade @welshwitch5 @nickysmum1909 @msgem @uberduber-loulou @cutester @charlitflair @harleyquinnnikki @lclb12 @imagines–assemble @wrasslin-rollins @xenofi@daywalker666 @heilisk @racheo91

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i. how do we move away from the only thing that can save us? like the pills, and the drinks. The cutting, and the boy at the bar who won’t stop glancing at my thighs. where do I save my ripped out bible verses? how do we say sorry when there’s a cement of lies in our mouth? at what hour does the world go quiet? perhaps one day, I’ll stop screaming and decide to speak. first, what does harmony sound like?

what do apologies sound like anyway?

ii. I thought of him last night. I remember the scar on his arm, but I forgot which one of his stories were real anymore. he was a compass that broke on a northern star burnt out, so he pointed himself towards me. I regret pretending to drown. 

in my thoughts, I took his face between my hands. that seemed real. I relished the pulse that burst beneath this frightened abuser. that was real, too. I delighted in the agony of his crushed larynx.

he had called me a bitch, but I think the boy meant witch.

iii. I say my name in circles. in fey rings. I find my name in the silence of a tiger’s paws. in the moan of a third orgasm. I smell my name in ripe papayas. I taste it in lewd verses. in verses about bad lovers, and girls who can kiss like exhumation.

I say my name as if I love myself.

He says my name as if I am stained in softness.

iv. I love Him for it, 
but I could also hate Him for it.

v. when He holds me it’s not His heart I hear, but the last of my restraints loosening. the last of my wounds closing. the last of my fears healing

vi. I think I hear my body forgiving me.

—  ANTIDOTE // Patricia Camille Antony

So, I just wanna be clear–one of the reasons why I’ve enjoyed supergirl so much is the amount of shipping material

and by that, I mean this show is so focused on women, and the relationships between women. Like there are so many female characters and they all have such good chemistry with each other that in most other shows, there isn’t even the potential for multi-shipping really

so p much what i’m saying is just bc i ship one thing doesn’t mean i don’t care about the other. like just because i’m currently eating pasta doesn’t at all detract that i will inhale a lemon bar, or think about having a lemon bar for dessert. usually i don’t multiship but oh my god there is so much chemistry between all these actresses that i just keep going oh my god *smashes drink* AnOTHER

so yeah, i pretty much ship all things femslash on supergirl ngl

(also i’m just saying why argue over ships when you can make an ot3 and/or “oh my god i’m not at all jealous of you rn (that’s a lie i’m insanely jealous))

Look, I’m as excited as anybody, but it says a lot of how whipped we are as a fandom that when after eight years Dean mumbles to some invisible enemy “Cas is my best friend” (and I mean, let’s be serious - what else would Dean call him?) we’re all losing our collective shit and crying and hugging one another.

If Destiel ever happens, people are going to drop dead left and right, and tumblr will probably explode.

Emimike at the Bar

But what happened when they went to the bar (don’t tell me they didn’t I know they did)

- Emil brings it up right after the programs end (he’s just so excited about spending time with Michele)

- Sara has to drag a very reluctant Michele there, only convincing him upon saying she’ll go no matter what (Michele wants to protect her from the hyenas at the bar after all)

- Michele refuses to get drunk (”I can’t protect you if I don’t even know what I’m doing, Sara”)

- Emil’s out to have a good time, and he tries to challenge Michele to a drinking game again and again to no avail, getting more and more drunk each time

- Michele sulking and turning away from Emil, constantly shirking away to avoid any contact with him

- Emil’s smile just gets wider and wider as he gets more drunk, and his laughs get more boisterous and cheerful

- Michele wonders just how much cheer the guy has in him even when there’s nothing to be happy about, which just darkens his mood even more

- Emil tells so many jokes at random, most of which are what the other two have never heard of before, which impresses Sara and secretly Michele too

- Sara’s just laughing along with Emil, mostly at how childish Michele’s acting, but doesn’t drink a lot, she’s just not a drinking kind of person

- Michele just keeps grumbling about how it’s a waste of time but sputters at one of Emil’s particularly funny jokes

- When it’s time to leave it’s gotten to the point when Emil seems a bit more than a little tipsy, and Sara starts to worry a little

- She’s not strong enough to support Emil alone so Michele grudgingly wraps an arm around Emil and leads him out of the bar slowly

- Emil just turns towards him with bleary eyes and the brightest smile ever Michele has ever seen

- He slurs an “I love you, Mickey” before faceplanting into Michele’s chest (my delicate fantasy please don’t try to crush my dreams)

- Michele immediately halts, the words turning his face so red it looks like he could set on fire any second

- Sara’s so happy because Michele finally knows

- Michele can’t bring himself to look at the other two as they head back to their hotel because he’s just so embarrassed and in shock that he just needs a bit more time to process everything (”So that’s what Emil was trying to say all along”)

- Emil mumbling poetic compliments about Michele’s eyes don’t help at all (they leave Michele shaking and unable to compose himself, in fact)

- Sara snickering at Michele’s ridiculous expression

- Emil doesn’t really remember what happened the next day but knows something was up when Michele accepted his hug that morning

- Michele’s just in a daze as the whole day goes and he can’t help but notice how adorable Emil’s smile really is

- Emil takes the chance to express his affection with lots of hugs and pats on the back

- Michele watches Yuri skate his free program and knows that he’s thinking of Victor, which makes him wonder if Emil had ever skated with him in mind like that before

- And then Emil wraps an arm around him and he kind of loses it

- He just cries little tears of happiness at that wonderful thought, Emil’s little confession echoing in his head

- Then he sees a glint of the ring on Yuri’s finger and wonders if he’ll ever get pair rings with Emil

i just love this Emil is so precious help me


@thecraftycracker I guess this is your fault:

“Ok, so it’s an extra large triple Ethiopian Yirgacheffe hazelnut latte with whipped cream, gingerbread sprinkles, cinnamon, and a single drop of sriracha for Wade,” said the handsome barista, sliding the elaborate drink across the bar, “and a flat white for Steve. Enjoy, fellas.”

“Thanks,” said Steve, doing his best to conceal the blush he felt rising in his cheeks when the barista - whose name, he was reliably informed, was Bucky - flashed him a little smile before going back to work. “I don’t know how you can drink that stuff, man. What’s the point of getting the expensive single-origin stuff if you’re just gonna bury it under all that crap?”

“The Yirgacheffe’s got lemony top notes,” interjected Bucky, as he wiped the steamer wand down with a bar towel. “With the hazelnut and cinnamon, it tastes kinda like Christmas cookies. Not saying it’s what I’d ever drink, but… I get it.”

“Thank you,” said Wade, glaring pointedly at Steve. “See, not so ridiculous after all, Mr. Unsweetened Flat White.”

“The sriracha’s just weird, though,” added Bucky.

“Thank you,” said Steve, glaring pointedly at Wade.

“Guess your palette’s just not as refined as mine,“ said Wade, as they settled in at their usual table.

Wednesday mornings were Wade and Steve’s Old Soldiers’ Weekly Caffeinated Bitchfest (as named by Wade), when they met at an agreeable café in the city centre to shoot the shit, reminisce about the good times (though their respective definitions of "good times” we’re not always in agreement), and generally avoid actually talking about any of the struggles that came with being not only combat vets, but the former guinea pigs of a top-secret military science fair project that, it turned out, fared better for some than for others.

“Okay, yeah, that’s good,” said Steve, as he relished his first sip, dark and smooth.

“So, Rogers,” whispered Wade, leaning as far forward across the table as the cramped space would allow, “when are you going to get your shit together and ask that soft barista bear out on a date?”

Steve blushed. He blushed harder than he thought it humanly possible to blush. He blushed with the sort of humiliating intensity that it was probably visible from the space station. Bucky, oblivious to their exchange, was fixing his hair into a small bun just above the nape of his neck, before beginning to refill the muffin display.

“Waaaaaaaaade,” he protested, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” countered Wade. “Guy literally drew a heart around your name on the coffee cup. He’s hot for you, Steve. Bucky Barista probably lies awake at night longing for your beautiful dick.”

Steve had been too busy noticing Bucky to notice the inscription on his cup; indeed, there was his name, encased in a soft heart.

“Oh my god, could you at least please keep your voice down?” said Steve. “Look, I do like him, okay? But you can’t just ask out somebody you have to see all the time. What if he says no? We’d have to find a new coffee shop, and I don’t know anywhere else in the neighbourhood that’s gonna be as accommodating to your… flavour needs.”

“He’s not gonna say no,” argued Wade. “We’ve been coming in here for, what, six months? He’s had your name and your order memorised for five of them. If I were him, I’d have notebooks filled with nothing but our names written together, and so many thematic playlists for every kind of sex I’d have imagined us having while masturbating.”

Steve buried his head in his hands. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that,” he said. He was grateful that Bucky was out of earshot then, speaking in hushed tones to a well-dressed blonde woman. Steve casually looked away when he sensed they were about to look in his direction.

“Fine, fine,” conceded Wade, “but just trust me that this guy wants to do all kinds of wonderful gross stuff with you, like visit Ikea to buy lamps for the attractive little loft you’re inevitably going to rent together.”

“Even if that was true, it’s kind of hard to find anybody with, you know, shared life experience,” argued Steve.

“Have you seen the guy’s arm?” asked Wade. Steve had, of course, noticed Bucky’s arm, though it was not polite to stare. Bucky kept his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows most days they saw him, and the shining metal fingers moved with such perfect dexterity that it was easy to forget that it could not have been anything other than an extension of his own body. “There’s no way that’s a standard issue prosthetic. He might get it more than most. If you don’t make a move, I’m gonna have to go full wingman on you.”

Calm thoughts, Bucky told himself. He was used to carrying himself with an air of ease and confidence, as befits anybody working in a public-facing vocation, but then there was Steve. Steve had been coming in every Wednesday for a flat white and to talk with his friend Wade - who swore loudly, which was oddly endearing - for almost as long as Bucky had been manning this particular bar,

Was drawing a heart around Steve’s name too forward of a gesture? Or was it too subtle? It was entirely possible - probably, even - that what seemed like flirting was actually Steve’s easy, affable nature, and Bucky’s attempt to suggest that they take their relationship beyond the reach of the espresso machine was a critical misstep. Mercifully, there was no time to dwell, as another of his regulars appeared just as he was refilling the muffin display.

“Detective Carter,” he greeted her, with a playfully curt nod.

“Sergeant Barnes,” she replied.

He shook his head. “No Sarge, just Bucky,” he corrected her. “The usual?”

“Uh-uh,” she said, slumping forward onto the bar. “Bear claw, two lattes.”

“Two?” he repeated. “Long day?”

“You remember that case I was working a few weeks ago,” she said, “the one I obviously couldn’t tell you about except there was a whole thing and I had to work with someone from federal?”

“The little red-haired girl?” asked Bucky.

“Well, we closed the case a few days ago, and… we’re meeting for coffee in the park,” she told him.

“That’s great, Share,” smiled Bucky, feeling the milk grow warm and voluminous with steam. “Tell me where you’re registered and I promise I’ll buy you the second-least expensive thing on your wedding list.”

“Come on,” she blushed. “It’s not like it’s going anywhere anyway. She’s FBI, I’m NYPD. I’m not sure that’s wise.”

“Oh please, as if you’d let something as minor as that get in the way of your job,” he argued, weaving the softly foamed milk into an intricate flower atop Sharon’s drinks.

Sharon let out a soft laugh. “Isn’t that more or less what I told you last week about flat white guy? You know, the one you keep making shy faces at whose shirts are all just that much too tight?” she asked.

“Okay, yeah,” he agreed. “I… I drew a heart on his coffee cup.”

“That’s great,” nodded Sharon, resting a hand on his forearm. “At this rate, you might see a movie together in only another five years or so. Talk to him. He’s literally looking at you right now.”

Bucky looked across the bar out of reflex, but Steve’s head was turned towards the window.

“You were saying?” he sighed.

“Please don’t make me talk to him for you,” she said, but inspiration had already struck him.

“It’s okay,” he said, bracing himself. “I can do this.”

Wade had had it up to here with these two assholes mooning over each other in silence. It was gross, and Wade was not usually one to be fazed by gross things. That was just how gross it was. If someone did not do something, this could well stretch on until the end of time itself, he thought, and he suspected that Steve was probably even more fun when he was in less of a state of constant sexual frustration. And if Wade was any sort of judge of character (and his judgment was, of course, impeccable), Bucky the barista most definitely knew his way around a wiener. And any and all other relevant erogenous zones. It was not something Steve readily discussed, but Wade suspected that someone as seemingly normal as Steve had to have at least one weird sex thing. Maybe his hair was inexplicably ticklish. Maybe he liked the feeling of freshly shaven legs against silk bedsheets. This was getting oddly specific, thought Wade, but then again, Steve was by no means forthcoming with this kind of stuff.

Either the lesbian with the great hair at the bar had inexplicably ordered them a snack, or Bucky was bringing them an extra for being such fabulous regulars, thought Wade, as Bucky set a small plate of biscuits down at their table. Or maybe it was that actually, Steve, Wade was right all along and Bucky is super in love with you, dumbass.

“Christmas cookies,” said Bucky. “With ground hazelnuts, lemon zest, and a liberal sprinkle of cinnamon.”

Steve took a bite, and let out a little sigh of appreciation.

“Wow,” he said. He was making what Wade suspected was dangerously close to his come-face.

Wade was more than happy to try one, which was almost as good as his coffee.

“Good shit, my man,” said Wade. “So when does your shift end today?”

“Wade, please,” cautioned Steve, which Wade happily ignored.

“Uhh, six-thirty,” said Bucky.

“That’s great, because I’d like to invite you and my friend Steve here to my favourite Ukrainian restaurant,” replied Wade, “except I’m going to get a wicked case of stomach flu sometime between now and then, and you two are gonna have to go without me. Please order the cheese blintzes, and don’t let the waiter’s toupee put you off.”

“I do like blintzes,” Bucky grinned, running a hand over his hair. “Sorry to hear about your stomach flu, pal.”

Steve blushed. “I hope you feel better soon, Wade,” said Steve, turning to Bucky. “It’s okay, you don’t have to - ”

“No, I’d… I’d genuinely love to get blintzes with you,” said Bucky. “Six-thirty?”

“Six-thirty,” Steve agreed. “I’d like that.”

Fucking finally, thought Wade.

We push it as far as what I can and can’t say. I’ll throw in shits and hells and Jesus Christs and goddamns everywhere I can, but even that there’s a limit to. Then they turn me loose. Someone will say ‘Okay, it’s time.’ That’s all I need to know. That’s when I just go fucking nuts and I’ll add all the fucks and all the original Negan language. So I memorize it two ways: I learn what’s okay for TV, and then I learn the Negan way, which is nothing barred, and I will add every fuck, fucking, fuckedy fuck, and more, just to get a fucking reaction.

I’m Not Good For You!

Requested: Can you do a fic where the Reader is at a bar after a mission with Jace and Alec. When The boys go to the bar the Reader talks to a girl Jace brought over and accidentally reveals she likes Jace too. The girls is really mean saying there’s no way he would like the Reader. So the reader decides to not say anything about the girl or her feelings to Jace and becomes upset and reckless on missions. When Jace confronts her she accidentally reveals what happened. Thanks! Hope it makes sense x                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               Warning:None!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Note: I hope that you’re going to like and if you do let me know..:)O and maybe I changed it a little bit                                                                                                                                                                                                         I couldn’t wait to sit down even if it’s been in a bar but maaan this mission was exausting.’Hey Alec where did Jace go?’ He looked around ‘Umm I think he’s waiting for someone.’ I leaned back in my seat ‘Oh okay!.’ And then Jace showed up a beautiful girl by his side and instantly me and Alec looked her up and down ‘Guys this is Becka.’ She waved and we returned the gesture God why is she need to be this gorgeous.She sat down across from me ‘Alec would you help me to go and get drinks.’Alec nodded and they walked away leaving me here in a awkward position.’So what’s your name.’ She asked and I smiled politely “Umm it’s Y/N.’ She smiled back and the things get at the same spot as before so I looked back were Jace was and the suddenly she cleared her throat ‘Sooo Y/N   are you have a thing for Jace or what?’ I looked at her surpriesed ‘Umm what?..Pff No.’ She smiled.’Well that’s good because obviously it would be dissapointing for you.’I looked at her confused but still aware of what she’s been saying..’I mean look at you,you can’t have him you’re not even his type,I am.’ I wanted to stand up for myself but just for my bad luck they returned and I kept my mouth shut swallowing my emotions and trying to hold back tears,on the other side she looked so nice when actually she was a devil itself. I stood up from my seat ‘I’m gonna go back to the institute.’Jace looked at me ‘Are you okay?’ And Alec stood next to me ‘Y/N are you okay?’ I looked at Becka and she had a evil smile on her face but they didn’t notice.’Umm yeah,yeah I’m just tired.’ Jace just nodded but Alec took my hand ‘Do you want me to come with you.’ I shaked my head..’No,no stay,have some fun.’ He nodded and hugged me ‘Text me when you get back.’ I nodded not even looking at Jace but he was busy anyway ‘I will.’ and with that I left with stupid insecurity all over again.                                                                              Tonight we were on a mission against some demon and Jace was leading us but afterall that happened I didn’t truly paid attention I just wanted to get over this as soon as possible,so when I saw a demon I instanntly run toward him hearing Jace yelling ‘No Y/N don’t.’ But it was already to late I was so close to the demon and killed him.Then Jace run to me ‘What the hell you were thinking?’ i looked at him annoyed ‘Not now Wayland.’ I wanted to walk away but he stopped me.’What’s wrong with you,you’re acting strange?’                     ‘Nothing’s wrong now would you leave me.’ He came closer to me ‘No Y/N I’m not letting you go until I found out.’ By now I was pissed ‘You wanna know what’s wrong, fine I’ll tell you.You are what’s wrong.I have feelings for you but I never had a stupid courage to tell you,God Jace she was right I’m not even you’re type.’ He looked at me instantly ‘Who’s she?’ I realized what I said ‘You know what forget it.’I tried to walk again but he grabbed me..’Who was right?” I let out a sigh ‘Becka,she was right about everything she said.’ He came closer and pulled me toward him.’Screw what she thinks,the right truth is that I like you..Like I really,really like you hell I even love you.’ I looked around and shaked my head ‘No you don’t.’ he put a hand on my cheek so I could look at him ‘Yes I do,and I won’t let anyone to talk bad  about you.’I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch nodding my head ‘I love you too.’ He then kissed me and the stupid insecurity dissapeared forever.        

So I finally watched Arrival.  They didn’t just go full Sapir-Whorf (never go full Sapir-Whorf); they went light-years beyond it.  So that was… interesting.

I will say, though, that when Louise drew an arrow from the end of the What is your purpose? question to the beginning, I was horribly afraid that she was going to try to teach aliens WH-movement and try to X-bar their language (yes, I just verbed X-bar; sue me) and was pleased when that didn’t happen.

My biggest WTF with the Zelda fandom is how people will automatically make the Gerudo out to be rapists when there is. 0% canonical reason for that.

I listened to some guy explain how in OoT the Gerudo “go to Castle Town to find boyfriends” <– actual thing the canon states, and then the guy literally says, “So basically they kidnap dudes and rape them.” 

And I’m just like ????????? There is nothing in the canon that implies what you just said. Sounds more to me like the kid-friendly version of saying they go bar-hopping for one-night stands. There is nothing that implies non-consent in the original explanation.  

Like I’m all for people’s edgelord theories but you can’t just twist canon’s words and then call it true. Yet people keep doing this. Stop it. Matriarchy is not patriarchy in different clothes. Why are you like this.  

Dear followers,

With the recent election in the U.S. and what is sure to follow I would like to remind you all to stay as safe as possible. Many terrible, loathsome, racist, sexist, xenophobic people have been emboldened by the results of the elections tonight. They are going to be feeling validated and brave for quite a while and we’ve seen time and time again what happens when these people feel big. As such I’d like just say, be safe. Do what you can to keep yourself protected wherever you are. Use the buddy system, travel well lit and busy paths when you can, and (as much as I, a creature of pure spitfire, piss, and vinegar, hate to say this) pick your battles. We do need to kick and fight and speak out when we can but telling that jackass in the bar to shut his racist mouth isn’t worth your life. While we’re at it, look out for each other. We are strongest together and we all need each other right now. So please, do what you need to to stay safe and look out for each other.

Much love,

Carrie Fisher, an actor and writer who became iconic in the role of Star Wars’ Princess Leia, has died after suffering a heart attack at age 60.

Fisher’s intelligence and warmth shone through in the Star Wars films; her chemistry with Ford and Hamill helped the films transcend their b-movie inspirations and set a new bar for quality in action and adventure films. When last year’s The Force Awakens was released, she delighted fans with her deadpan quips in interviews like a Good Morning America spot where she brought her pet dog and kept host Amy Robach in stitches.

Asked in that interview about returning to her Star Wars role, Fisher replied, “I’ve been Princess Leia for 40 years. So, what, I’m going to stop now when it’s really ridiculous to be someone named ‘Princess Leia’?” Fisher went on to say that “I got in character and I never got out again — and really, I’ve tried everything.”

$1 stories - A is for abuse - N is for non-con



Rape, abuse, drugs.


Don’t read this, it’s mean.


[ when it’s cold I’d like to die - moby ]


@rengenano ❤️


‘What are you doing here?’

‘I just thought I’d come to say hello.’

‘Go fuck yourself.’

With that, he stood, weaving through the crowd and pushed through the doors of the smoky bar.

His hands shook.

His eyes burned with tears.

He needed to get as far away from this as possible.

He was fumbling with his phone, trying to unlock it while simultaneously attempting to remove his keys from his pocket.

He was two buttons away from making the call when the man caught up with him.

He grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

He stumbled but was caught by the wrist.

The man pulled the phone from his hand, looking at the screen.

‘Seriously? The cops?

He Tian tried to pull his arm back.

‘What’s your fucking problem?’ The older man demanded.

‘YOU! You are my fucking problem!’

‘You’re being dramatic.’

‘I have a RESTRAINING order against you.’

‘Yeah, that’s not a magic spell. It only works in the company of certain people.’

He lunged for his phone.

He’d never been fast enough.

The man pulled back, laughing.

‘Good try.’

‘What are you doing here, man? Seriously.’

‘Just checking in. You’ve made this much more difficult that it needed to be.’

‘Ok. You’ve checked in. Are we done here?’

The man studied him.

‘You’ve changed.’

He Tian shook his head slowly.

‘Really, you have. Look at all this new found confidence. You’re standing up for yourself.’

‘No, I-’

‘I don’t like it.’


‘Please just let me go home. I won’t call the cops, I won’t do anything.’

‘I’ll come with you.’


‘You sure about that?’

He Tian knew he was making a mistake.

He could just take him home and when it was over he could just shower and go to bed.

He couldn’t do it.

He needed that safe space.

Unsoiled by all this.

He nodded.

He felt himself begin to regress.

The man shrugged.

‘Suit yourself.’

He scanned the area for a moment before pulling him into a dark alleyway.

He Tian breathed deeply.

He wasn’t fast or strong enough to escape.
He never had been.

So he willed himself to relax.

If the doesn’t fight back, it’ll be over faster.

The man shoved him against the wall, kissing him deeply.

He felt the same.

Smelled the same.

Tasted the same.

He thought he might vomit as he parted his lips for his tongue.

A rough hand slid under his shirt, pinching his nipple.

The other expertly opened his jeans and reached inside.

‘Aw, what’s with this lack of enthusiasm?’

He Tian squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the tears down his cheeks when the man fondled his flaccid cock.

‘Why are you crying?’

If he didn’t know better, that gentle voice would have sounded sincere.


‘Use your words.’

‘I d-don’t want to do this.’

The man removed his hand from his shirt and wiped the tears from his cheek.

‘I know, sweetheart.’

He looked up at him, knowing nothing he could say would make a difference.

He felt like a child again.

‘Please don’t. Please just let me go home.’

He pulled He Tian into a gentle hug, kissing him on the side of his head.

‘It’ll be over soon, baby.’

He Tian nodded, feeling like the last three years had been nothing but a pleasant dream.

The man reached into his pocket, pulling out a small metal box and a pocket knife.

He pried the lid off, opening the knife and using the tip to scoop out a small amount of white powder.

The image swam in his tears as he leaned forward, holding a nostril closed and inhaling the bitter powder.

‘One more?’

He Tian nodded.

The scoop was larger this time.

He was feeling generous tonight.

Nostalgia, maybe.

When he pocketed the paraphernalia again, He Tian let his head fall back against the grimy brick wall.

He’d been sober for nearly three years.

He hadn’t needed it.

He’d forgotten how good it felt.

The man ran his fingers through He Tian’s hair, just the way he liked it, until he was sure it had kicked in.

He Tian felt very little while the man gently pulled his jeans down his thighs and lifted him up to wrap his legs around his waist.

He felt nothing but a dull discomfort when he shoved himself inside.

He didn’t feel the sticky warmth of the blood between his legs.

Or feel his skin break under sharp fingernails.

He couldn’t feel the pressure of the sharp, brutal thrusts.

He didn’t want to hurt him.

He wasn’t trying to make a point.

He wasn’t trying to scare him.

He was doing this because he could.

That was the satisfaction he wanted.

He Tian couldn’t feel the fingers in his hair.

Or the lips on his.

He simply stared into the dark, empty, eyes of a shark.

It didn’t hurt.

Not yet.


When it was over.

The man dressed him.

Offered him another bump.

And drove him home.

He carried him up the stairs.

Made sure he had his things.

And deposited him at his doorstep.

He rang the doorbell.

Kissed him sweetly.

And walked away