#Addiction

[slutdge]

addicts are people with value and things to love about them and deserve a full belly and a warm place to sleep at the end of the day.

[identitty-dickruption]

been thinking about what it means for 'addict' to be a social/political identity as well as a simple statement of fact about experiencing a certain kind of relationship to substances (etc). no matter how long I'm sober I think I'll always be an addict, but not in the way that organisations like AA/NA imagine it. the experience of going through addiction and being exposed to such a wide variety of other addicts and being forced to reimagine the world in ways that most non-addicts aren't forced to reckon with... those kinds of things have turned my addict identity into a political orientation just as much as it is anything else

[ableism]

I know i’m functionally a gay DARE officer at this point but I do in fact feel some sort of way about Cocaine being back in vogue. Surely I sound like a square + narc and I’ll concede ok do whatever you want, nobody can materially stop another person from using drugs if they really want to 🤷🏻 I don’t really care that it’s hip to do party drugs, moreso I want to articulate a general level of caution and concern that I never see a sidecar of harm reduction and safe using practices along with the commonplace clips of people straight up snorting coke I’ve seen for “brat summer!!!1!!”

You 🫵 are not immune to ingesting fentanyl or any number of other additives. Do you think drugs at the gay club are different than the drugs people are taking under bridges and in gutters? I promise they’re not! So if you want to use drugs and continue being alive, do your part to be safe. Protecting yourself protects others and your community.

Do not accept drugs from strangers. Test your drugs with fentanyl test strips. Carry narcan and know how to administer it. Never use alone. Have an exit strategy if you’re using drugs in a public space. Know the contact information for your local harm reduction groups, overdose emergency hotline, and if you need/want it, addiction treatment orgs. This is all the bare minimum for community care if you intend to be out in the world using drugs. Mainly I encourage you all to be buzzkills if it means you don’t have to die of an accidental overdose. Overdose is the leading cause of death for Americans under 40. I have a whole lot of social workers in my network and however bad you think the synthetic opioid crisis is, it’s worse. The war stories I’ve heard from my people on the ground are… The shit of nightmares. Don’t let it be you or anybody you love.

If you live in the state of Georgia, DM me for a longer list of resources.

Fentanyl information (harm reduction.org)

Get Narcan

How to use fentanyl test strips

Call 311 to find out where to get Narcan in your community at no cost to you

[howlingmoonn]

Shout out to people who can't have kids. Not because theyre infertile or otherwise physically incapable of making a child, but those who cant have kids because they couldnt take care of them in the way they deserve.

To disabled people who would be unable to care for a child due to their disability

To mentally ill people who would be unable to care for a child due to their mental health

To violent people who wouldn't be able to stop themselves being violent towards their child

To autistic people whos meltdowns would stop them looking after a child / would make them violent to their child

To addicts who wouldn't be able to look after a child because of their addiction/the consequences of their addiction

To intellectually disabled people who wouldnt know how to look after a child safely and would not be able to learn

To those that require so much care themselves that they could not care for another

To those with mood swings who may lash out at a child and can't raise children because of that

To people with their own childhood trauma who fear their own trauma would cause them to not raise a child safely

To people with childhood trauma that feel having a child would turn them into their abuser

Theres too much stigma around those of us who cant/shouldnt raise kids. Theres nothing inherently bad about not being a safe person to raise children. It's also okay to want kids even if you know you couldn't raise them! It's okay to be sad about it. You are seen and heard and deserve the comfort and support you need.

[ru-i-n]

[only-knives]

ngl if i do survive to old age i don't think i want the story of my life that i tell the youth to be "oh no yeah i acted like everything was normal by sacrificing my own humanity and the safety of my loved ones through neglecting and perpetuating harm. i'm so sorry about that though. it was a different time."

i would rather sit there and tell them about the pain. the impossibility of normal. the desperation to just live happily, comfortably. the persistence of my life despite it all. all the things i learned about being human and love and pain and hate and violence and gentleness through this. i want to tell them about the hope and joy living in all of the darkness.

idk. i'd rather be a fuck up and risk dying young, than stand in line and follow the footsteps that have led us all right to this damn awful point. maybe that's cynical, maybe that's careless, maybe that's just me justifying me hurting myself with substance use.

or maybe. this is me hoping against all the pain inside me that one day i will have a story to tell that helps a young person survive whatever the issues of their youth are.

because they will have someone who is like them, who is old, to show them they are allowed to exist - beyond the past, beyond the present, and into the future. maybe they'll see their story continues with or without them, because humans have suffered and loved this way since the dawn of our time... so they may as well be here for it.

or maybe all this is just what i need to hear right now to stay alive. who knows. it's up to reader interpretation at this point.

if you're reading this: i'm glad i'm alive at the same time as you. thank you for surviving this hell with me so i am not alone. i hope you know you're not alone either. we're in this together. always will be.

[gulano]

This is very relatable

After I stopped using Twitter, I developed the weirdest addiction ever

Google Solitaire

I did an experiment on myself

I like to browse social media, but it's not really me who likes that. It's some baser, more lizardish part of my brain. It does not even know what it's looking at, or care -- it just knows it gets little dopamine snacks from it, and likes them.

I decided to do an experiment. I wanted to see what that part of my brain would do if I deprived it of what it usually likes. I blocked all social media in my desktop browser via an extension, uninstalled all my social media apps, and even blocked the websites on my phone just for good measure.

So, what would I do now?

It turns out I start going on wikipedia. I liked to look at the "on this day section," and use the random page button. It's kind of like social media because I never knew what I was going to see. It scratched that same itch.

But I wanted to go farther, so I blocked wikipedia too.

Turns out, after that, I start going on google maps streetview and exploring random towns in Chile or Mongolia. I see hotels and restaurants with 1 review. Who are you, reviewer. Why have you decided to give this pizza restaurant that just looks like a normal house this digital baptism.

But I wanted to go farther, so I blocked google maps too.

Then, I started going to my local library. The library had more information than I could ever read about practically anything I wanted to read about. I started reading about French history. The region we know today as France may look pretty innocuous, but you wouldn't believe some of the shit that went down.

But I wanted to go farther, so I stopped even going to the library. What would this part of me, that so desperately craved a constant intake of information, do now.

It was then that I descended into the sewers, and became the Rat Man.

I quickly became a legend in my town. Some teenagers saw me clamber out of one sewer grate and then into another across the street. They told their parents about it. Their parents didn't believe them. Truth be told, I almost didn't believe them either.

A woman eating oreos on a park bench once dropped one near a sewer drain at the local bike path, and yelped when she saw my arm reach out from the drain and swipe it. However, later on, she left another oreo there. She took pity on the Rat Man. I saw the Man that was left there, even though it was mostly Rat.

Ultimately I decided to allow myself the library.

[identitty-dickruption]

the problem with addiction is not that it's pleasurable. it's not "having too much fun" disease. it's not even a requirement for addiction that you have fun at any point in the process at all and to be honest it is incredibly common that no pleasure is gained from substance use. imagining that addiction is about pleasure does two things: 1) demonises feeling good (there is nothing wrong with wanting to be happy/comfortable/etc), and 2) frames addicts as people who Like Having Fun Too Much. it's simply not useful to frame things this way as well as just fundamentally not being true

[berryispunk]

Meet The Characters

*drumroll* Now that Rain Down on Me has wrapped, it’s time for a new challenge—and a new pairing. Starting in May, I’ll be joining @thedrabblecollective’s drabble challenge (again). But instead of keeping it simple with a cohesive story, I went full chaos and built an entirely new AU to set these in.

Today, you’ll meet the female OC and the AU version of Frankie. Tomorrow—before the challenge officially kicks off—I’ll post the intro story for the Like A Song Stuck In My Head universe.

Drabbles start after that, and then we’ll keep their story going. I’m so excited. Join me?

Okay... let's start

Firefly (Elena Quinn, 27)

Elena grew up in a small town on the East Coast. Her mother worked two jobs, her father wasn’t around, and she was raised in the back corners of bookstores and the cramped quiet of the public library. She fell in love with words before she ever believed in people. She got a scholarship—barely—made it out and into a university. Studied literature like it could save her. It almost did. But when her mom got sick, everything changed. Bills, part-time jobs, a sudden drop in grades. She left school, just for a semester. The semester became a year. Then forever. She drifted for a while. Waitressing, bartending, couch surfing. Ended up in a city she never meant to stay in, thinking it’d be a stopover. It wasn’t. She found The Shack by accident—needed a job, and they needed someone who could throw a bottle at a drunk without flinching. She stayed. Against all odds, she found something like home in the noise and neon. She’s sharp-edged and world-weary, but loyal as hell. Still reads poetry on her breaks. Keeps a notebook under the bar, filled with half-finished stories and old quotes that remind her who she used to be. She has poetry tattoos, too—like “no rain, no flowers” inked gently along her collarbone. Her hair’s been dyed red for years, and despite the sticky Florida heat, her favorite weather is rain. Autumn is her season. Always has been. She’s a hopeless romantic who pretends not to be. Keeps everyone at arm’s length—everyone except Donna, the owner of The Shack, who stepped in like a second mom when her own passed. She’s a free spirit through and through, with a soft spot for strays—people, pets, all of them. That’s why she volunteers at the local shelter, no questions asked. She doesn’t tell many people her real name. Most just call her Firefly. Maybe because she glows a little, even when she doesn’t mean to.

Francisco Morales "Fish" (36) and Thorns of August

Band Members

Francisco "Fish" Morales – lead guitarist

Santiago “Pope” Garcia – vocals / rhythm guitar

Benny Miller – drums

Will “Ironhead” Miller – bass

They didn’t start as a band. They started as soldiers. Brothers. The kind who bled for each other—and for things they still don’t speak about. Frankie had always had music. His dad taught him guitar when he was a kid, and it followed him—into war, into addiction, into every broken piece of his life. After getting kicked out of the army for coke and smashing his last guitar in a rage, he thought it was over. Until the mission with Santi went south. The drugs stopped working. The music came back. Pope gave him a guitar, and they started jamming in his garage. No plan. Just grief, noise, and the hope something might stick. They named themselves Thorns of August, after Tom—their brother, their glue. His death haunted everything. So they played. The Shack was the first real stage. The crowd was small, but it felt like something. That’s where Frankie saw her—Firefly. All red hair and poetry tattoos, sharp tongue and soft eyes. She didn’t care about the music or the band or his damage. She cared about who he was when the noise stopped. And that terrified him. He was high most nights, drowning in the abundance of nothing fame offered. But he still showed up—for her, mostly. Until he didn’t. One fight, one broken night, and they were banned from The Shack. He lost her and never said what he meant to. Now their songs climb charts. They’re on movie soundtracks. But Frankie still mourns the girl behind the bar—and every song he writes is about her, even if no one knows.

main masterlist

tags: @speaktothehandpeasants @kakiki3 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @capuccinodoll @almostfoxglove @jolapeno @whirlwindrider29 @sheepdogchick3 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @brittmb115 @greenwitchfromthewoods @diabaroxa @glycerinrivers @biapascal @copperhalfcent @beaniebailey @thepilatesprincess @axshadows @kirsteng42 @joelsgoodgirl @ellenmunn @matchalov3 @canadianfangirl-95 @picketniffler @hotforpedro @tuquoquebrute @noovaarq @warmdragonfly @theanothersherlockian @littleluc @76bookworm76 @inept-the-magnificent @confusedpuffin @wheatmaze @rav3n-pascal22 @picketniffler @lostinmyownmaze

[aesthetic-olive]

TW: Trauma & Drug Use, Brief mention of SA

**disclaimer that this is all stream of thought and will most likely not be very polished**

Okay so I've only watched through Ep5 of Andor S2 and I already have so many thoughts but for now I just want to focus on one part:

Bix.

Everything we've seen of Bix up to now has made me like her as a character, but Eps 4-5 have made her one of my favs. We start out seeing her in season 2 go through so much torture and trauma, from her partner dying right in front of her (And I'm absolutely a #Timmhater but staring at your partners dead corpse for hours does things to a person) to being forced to listen to the genocide of children as a form of torture. She is clearly and demonstrably an incredibly resilient person but those experiences aren't things anyone can just shake off. I knew that part of her character arch in S2 would have to be dealing with these traumas in some way but then the SA scene in S2Ep3 happened and I just. Like Holy Shit my girl just survives so fucking much and still keeps fighting!! She lives through some of the worst experiences imaginable and never once thinks about giving up. And honestly? I never once expected her to. Even though she'd have every right to give up and run away (like Cassian tried to do in Niamos) I never for one second thought she would. But you know what I never expected to see?

Her using drugs to sleep.

Those scenes with her by the window and in front of the TV completely out of it meant So Much to me. As someone who used to constantly use drugs to cope with my traumas I couldn't believe how much it surprised me to see it represented in Andor but I was So So glad they did because it's so real! I've been the one passed out on the couch while reality TV blasts over me before. And no, it didn't fix my problems. It didn't even make me feel good, as much as I wanted to pretend otherwise. What it did do was stop me from feeling bad. There comes a point in living through trauma where you stop expecting or even understanding what feeling good would look like, so you spend all your energy just avoiding feeling bad. And Bix hit that point somewhere around halfway through Andor S1 tbh. The Dr. Ghorst flashbacks, the living in a safe house on the galactic capital of the government your a fugitive of, the Everything of it all makes it impossible for her to imagine a world where she could simply be at peace. Not while this war is going on. Not while the Empire reigns. And not after everything she's lost just to live this long. Her one comfort is Cassian, who seems to be changing before her eyes, becoming so willing to kill just to protect her, constantly leaving for Luthen's missions. And we see at the very beginning of Ep4 that she doesn't even sleep well with him there. So when that small comfort leaves where does she have to turn but escapism?

And I think this is so incredible for who she is so far because to me at least it's her incredible will to survive turned against herself. I have a terrible feeling this is foreshadowing her inevitable death this season (her ODing would, imo, be the empire killing her). And that shit is gonna Haunt me. Getting sober is one of the best things I've ever done for myself but I just can't find it in me to blame her for making those choices. It's all just so. Real.

[stephanidftba]

Info on medicated assisted treatment:

Some Alternatives to AA

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy - https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/cognitive-behavioral-therapy

smart recovery - https://www.smartrecovery.org/

EMDR Therapy - https://psychcentral.com/health/emdr-therapy

Existential Therapy - https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/therapy-types/existential-therapy

[mattslvrxo]

first series!!

{secret addiction}

part {1 }

꣑ৎ { insta famous user x chris sturniolo } ꣑ৎ

{ ! } contains: sex, stalking, nsfw content, adulatory , only fans, swearing, .. etc

based on the song

╰┈➤ ❝ . ۫ . my strange addiction . ۫ . ❞۫

by billie eilish

{your pov }

a few years ago, i kind of blew up without really meaning to. it started with a few instagram posts — random selfies, outfit pics, nothing groundbreaking — but for some reason, people latched on. called me an “it girl.” an “instagram model.” whatever the fuck that even means.

i didn’t fight it. i leaned into it. posted more, gained more followers, brands started reaching out. next thing i knew, i was verified, making money just for existing online. and when the offers came to start an onlyfans… i didn’t even hesitate. it wasn’t some deep, complicated decision. i had the face. i had the body. people were already staring — might as well make them pay for it.

the money was stupid. the attention was overwhelming. but i couldn’t lie — i loved it. the attention i got from it. the way it made people lose their minds. the thing is, i barely dipped into youtube. maybe a vlog once a month, if i remembered. nothing serious. i wasn’t trying to be an influencer. i was just me. so when i was mindlessly scrolling on tiktok one night and a random edit popped up — my face mashed next to some guy i’d never seen before — i was confused as fuck.

“omg they would be SO tea tg.”

“they match each other’s energy so bad.”

“manifesting this.” the comments were insane. i didn’t even know who the hell this guy was.

curious, i searched his name. “chris sturniolo.” apparently, he was a youtuber. a triplet, which was… weirdly hot. i clicked through his instagram, half-expecting to be unimpressed.

nope.

he was attractive. way too attractive.

the kind of boy you try to convince yourself isn’t your type just so you don’t have to deal with the consequences.

messy brown hair, effortless smirk, not too tall but not too short, great style , kinda broad shoulders but still looked like he didn’t take himself too seriously. only one tattoo — clean skin, sharp jawline, heavy-lidded blue eyes that looked like they could ruin your life without trying.

i hated how quickly i was interested.. i hated how i scrolled back months on his profile without even realizing. seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours.

i told myself it was just curiosity.

just research.

but every time i posted a new story, every time i dropped a new set, i’d wonder would he see it? would he care?

i never followed him, never liked a post, and never commented. i just watched, silent, invisible,like a fucking coward.

and what i didn’t know — what i couldn’t have known — was that he was doing the exact same thing.

{chris’s pov }

saturday night, absolutely nothing to do.

i was half-dead on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, thinking about how much i fucking hated social media.

everything felt recycled lately. nothing new. nothing exciting. i was looking at my mentions until something caught my eye, i kept getting tagged in one specific video,

a fan edit.

me… and this.. girl?

the caption was some dumb shit like “soulmates fr.” what the fuck? how the fuck would i be soulmates with a chick that i don’t even know. i almost scrolled past it, almost.

but something about her face — the way she looked at the camera like she already knew how attractive she was, her smile wasnt bright.. her sharp eyes stared into the camera — made me pause.

who the fuck was she? i clicked her account that was tagged in the caption.. next to my @ , and before i could even blink, i was on her instagram page. 2.5 million followers. verified. full-blown star.

she was gorgeous. not just pretty — dangerous. the kind of gorgeous that makes your chest hurt a little. i saw the link in her bio. clicked it without thinking.

onlyfans,of course. because why the fuck would anything ever be simple?

i didn’t subscribe, but it didn’t matter, her posts were enough.

bikinis, short skirts, tight tops, sometimes baggy pants, her style was fire and it was fucking torture. i hated myself for not being able to look away.

i stalked harder than i should have, found her tiktoks. her youtube. even her pinterest.

it was bad.

i knew it was bad.

but i couldn’t stop.

i never followed her. never liked her pictures,

never commented.

i just watched,quiet,obsessed,paralyzed.

it became a sick routine, open instagram. check her page. close the app. pretend i didn’t just waste another twenty minutes memorizing someone i’d never met.

i told myself it was harmless, but deep down, i knew.

written by adeline!

part 2 coming soon..

[nondivisable]

some of yall need to understand that "my body, my choice" also applies to:

addicts in active addiction with no intention of quitting

phys disabled people who deny medical treatment

neurodivergent people who deny psychiatric treatment (yes, including schizophrenic people and people with personality disorders)

trans people who want or don't want to medically transition (yes, including trans masc lesbians with top surgery and trans women without bottom surgery, yall are so weird to them wtf)

and if you can't understand that, then you don't get to use the phrase

[danewsea]

justLikeMyBabe & ourSummerVibes 🌿