#Drug Use TW

[jawsofpleasure]

Need limit pushing sex. Need someone to find the edges of my boundaries and test them. Intox me until I struggle with my words and you can glimpse my internal foggy panic as I lose control. Tie me up for an unreasonable amount of time, lock me in the bedroom for a day or chain me to a table. Hit me, then again, and again, and follow whatever violent urge comes next. Drag out my box of barely touched sex toys and experiment on me. Make me regret my overstim kink. Bite and cut and bruise and bleed. I want to stammer out my safeword like a question, making you pause, and then say in a quivering voice "o-oh... n-nevermind..." to see what you do with an inch more

[nonbinaryaubrey]

this is ooc but i cant stop thinking abt it

[koimurocho]

[mysterycitrus]

genuine q for the jasonheads and jason moots— has he been shown in canon text to engage in restorative community work (ie safe injection sites, exchange programs etc) or support children and sex workers specifically? essentially any long-term community planning in either new52 or rebirth canon

[fxckaubreycarson]

Aubrey & Mack

Aubrey: you ever been in love...nope...lust...in lust with someone and you know it's a very bad idea but your brain just ignores you? Aubrey: Asking for a friend. Aubrey: Also i'm pretty drunk Aubrey: also pretty high...I have edible cookies come hang out @mackmontgomery

[ashintheairlikesnow]

now i’m craving streetkid chris waaaaa

if you have some time and energy, could you be persuaded to perhaps write some streetkid chris with jake and the safehouse? i’ve never stopped needing comfort for him

CW: Heavily internalized ableism, referenced past dubcon and noncon, some internal dehumanization, referenced drug use

(Street kid Chris au pieces here and here)

-

He sobers up, more or less, on the bus ride out of the center of the city, his forehead resting against the cool glass window. It's all a blur that moves through and around him, steel and concrete shifting to grass and trees and little houses placed next to each other like a child's toys.

Baldur hides a smile, imagining a giant toddler hand lining the houses up one by one by one by one, picking doll families to live in the little doll houses. Giant baby god giving this family a dog and this family a goldfish and that one a pretty boy like Baldur to do everything they say-

A laugh catches in his throat, dies there with the chill of sudden grief. What is his Sir doing? Is he at home with some new pet, playing games? Was Baldur replaced that quickly?

Of course he was. He was never special, never really very good even. Pretty, until he got too old. Stupid statue-boy trying and trying to hold still and never winning any of Sir's games. Sir would've ordered someone else right away.

He's probably forgotten about Baldur by now.

His throat tightens even more, heat stinging his eyes, but Baldur fights it back. The only thing worse than his wrong words and his wrong hands is when he cries, of course. Sir always says-

But Sir doesn't want him any longer, isn't there to tell him never to cry and then play games and hurt him until he does it anyway.

"Hey." Kauri, sitting next to him, must catch something in the shift of movement in his throat when he swallows or the stare of his glassy green eyes. "What's up, buttercup? You need some water? I know coming down always makes me so thirsty I could scream."

Baldur shakes his head, curling up as best he can, pulling his knees to his chin with his heels pressed against the edge of the seat, pushing the dirty soles of his shoes against the cushioned fabric. "No thank you," He whispers. "I... I'm fine."

"Yeah, yeah. I've heard that before - or I guess I should say that I've said that before. And you know what, Chris? Never once was I actually fine. So. Here." Kauri holds a bottle of water out, shaking it a little as if trying to lure a stray cat with a can of tuna. "Come on, have a drink. It'll help hold off the headache, I swear."

Baldur's fingers are shaking when he takes the bottle, and it takes three tries to get the cap open, but the water is cool and clean on his tongue and down his throat, and before he realizes it the bottle is half empty, his chest feels cold on the inside as the water trickles through him, and he's gasping for breath.

Kauri's smile is soft, gentle, only a little sad. "There we go. Keep working on it, okay? Hydration is the best defense against hangovers, not that I ever take my own advice. But it is still excellent advice."

By the bus reaches a stop that Kauri declares is theirs, he's had all the water and it's an empty bottle he stashes in his backpack. He can refill it at the first sink he sees, have something he doesn't have to beg for or fuck for to drink later on.

Baldur steps off the bus and into a neighborhood right out of TV.

Houses line the street on either side, and Baldur stares at old trees that rise over his head, dappling the ground with shade that blocks some of the heat of the sun. The air smells like grass, and there's a drone from somewhere nearby that he realizes must be a lawn mower, a sound he's only heard from Sir's windows while watching the landscapers work far, far below.

There's a fence around the yard next to them - a white fence, even, with chips of peeling paint. Baldur moves to it, reaching out and letting his fingertips brush the rough wood, one nail scratching at a bit of paint coming free. He doesn't hear himself humming, low and tuneless, repeating over and over, until Kauri pops back into view in the corner of his eye.

"You never seen a fence before?" Kauri teases, but then Baldur flinches back and away and watches Kauri's smile falter, briefly, before it determinedly returns. "Sorry. I scared you, huh?"

"I'm fine," Baldur says too fast, realizing too late that he isn't answering the question Kauri asked - either of them. The blush heats his cheeks and he turns away, jamming his hands in his pockets as hard as he can, hunching his shoulders. "Fine. I'm... I'm fine."

The word sounds good in his mouth. Soothes his mind. He opens his mouth to say it again, fine fine fine - but Baldur catches himself this time. He can't repeat words he hears, that's wrong. Can't stammer, that's wrong. Can't move, or sway, or use his hands - wrong.

All wrong.

"Right. Well, come on. The house is this way." Kauri walks a little ways away, then looks back over his shoulder. Baldur hurries to catch up, keeping himself hunched. The weight of his backpack is familiar and comforting, all his things in there. The usual headache when the pills wear off teases around the edge of his mind, but it doesn't take hold. Maybe Kauri was right about the water.

Kauri talks, chatting brightly. His hands move constantly, in gestures and emphasis, and Baldur keeps staring at it. Sir would have slapped his hands if he moved them so much, but Kauri doesn't even notice he does it.

The house has people there like them, Kauri explains, although not like them like them, just - other pets. Domestics, mostly. The woman who runs the house, like the shelters Baldur has stayed at but they won't make him pray.

"Trust me," Kauri reassures, "I wouldn't stay there if they did. I've traded a bed and some food for having to go to their church and let them tell me what a bad boy I am enough for one lifetime, thank you. Sinners have more fun, anyway." He winks, and Baldur blinks back at him. "The last time I stayed at one, the pastor hit on me. The very, very married pastor. Which goes to show you - when you are as good in bed as I am, even God doesn't measure up."

Baldur swallows. He should say something - something witty. Kauri seems to have things to say about everything, all of the time, but Baldur's mind is still slow from the pills, even though he's sobering up. He can't think of anything except to say, "Really?"

"Really." Kauri's smile is bright, flash of sun off the hood of a car blinding but with something about it that seems cracked, too. "Once we get there, I'll make introductions. But I promise, everybody is nice."

"... Nice," Baldur murmurs. Nobody is, not really, in his experience. Everybody takes something in return for every bit of nice they offer. Everybody sees his barcode and knows they can do whatever they want to him, and then they do. And if he's lucky it's only to make him eat food that makes him feel sick, or talk to him about how he's walking a dark path, as if there has ever been a lighter one. Or sometimes they tell him to go lay down on the bed-

"We're here!" Kauri's voice cuts into Baldur's thoughts, and he looks up.

In front of him there's a two-story house with white siding, flat-faced with windows that look down on him like eyes. There's a porch with chairs on it, and sitting in one of them is a tall, thin man with a mess of dark hair and sharp, dark almost-feline eyes. He's fiddling with something in his hands, but when he sees them he shoves whatever it was into his pocket and quickly stands.

Baldur hesitates - but Kauri moves right up the overgrown path, flat stones half-covered by grass and weeds. "Hey, Ant! I brought someone."

"I see this," The man says, in a smooth, accented voice. He sounds like velvet. Baldur looks at him, trying to think. Just a blowjob, probably. Easy. Baldur has traded those for lots of things. He barely has to do anything, once they grab his head. "Kauri-"

"Oh, wipe that worry off your face, Antoni, he's one of us." Kauri waves a hand back at Baldur, then grabs at his arm to pull him forward. "I brought him to meet Nat and Jake. Chris, this is Antoni. Antoni, this is Chris."

Antoni looks at him, then turns and silently heads back into the house.

Baldur swallows, shifting to half-hide himself behind Kauri. "... he doesn't... like me."

"Nah, Antoni's just kind of a mood killer professionally. He's a softie once you get to know him, I promise." Kauri half-drags him up the steps and through the front door, into an entryway that has a pile of coats abandoned on a coat rack, shoes on a mat. The house smells like something cooking, and Baldur's mouth waters, his stomach twisting as it remembers how to feel hungry and not just emptied-out and light. "Jake! Hey, Jake!"

"Jake's out," A woman's voice says. Baldur stares as an older woman pops her head in. She has brown hair with bits of gray in it in a braid that lays over one shoulder, a flannel shirt over a t-shirt and ancient jeans, and a soft smile ringed in laugh lines that crinkles at the corners and near her eyes.

She's beautiful.

"Who's this?" The woman looks from him to Kauri, with curiosity - not trepidation, not worry, and not anger. "You brought someone by?"

"Yeah. This is, uh, this is Chris. He's one of us. Chris, this is Nat. She feeds me sometimes."

"Love that description." Nat's voice is wry with good humor, and she steps forward, holding out her hand. "I have hobbies, too, you know. Hello, Chris. I'm Nat, and this is my house. I help runaways from WRU start over."

He stares at her outstretched hand, then back at her, before hesitantly shaking. His grip is limp compared to hers, but she doesn't say anything about it. "I-... I thought... you were... a man."

"No, that's Jake," Kauri corrects him. "He insists on having a life outside of waiting for my beautiful ass to show back up, so we'll see him later."

"... Okay." Baldur studies the woman - Nat - thoughtfully. Then he offers, "I can... do women, too."

Nat's expression changes - so subtly he can't tell what the change is. But he sees it. Baldur knows how to tell when the mood of a room goes sour, to try to protect himself. "Romantic," She murmurs. "I see. Kauri-"

"Don't say he can't come here," Kauri interrupts, bristling, and Baldur stares at him in open terror as his heart drops to his knees. He's angry at one of them. Baldur didn't know you could do that. "He's got as much a right as anybody else does, and you let me come here, and he could use the help, Nat, so don't you dare-"

"Kauri. Hey." Nat puts her hands up, as if surrendering in a fight. "That's not what I was gonna say. I was going to say, Kauri, how about you set him a place at the table for dinner. Okay?"

Kauri's jaw is set, and it takes him a moment to stop looking ready to keep up the argument that isn't even happening. "I-... yeah. Okay. Yeah, I'll do that. Just-... Nat, you know that a lot of places won't-"

"I know. It's okay, honey. It really is okay. Just go get him set up. And you." Nat smiles at Baldur, and he tries to see the mean she's hiding, but it isn't there. Too buried underneath a kind face, maybe. Baldur can't imagine there just isn't any cruelty there at all. "We take all kinds here, and you're welcome. No one touches you here, and I'd prefer if you kept your hands to yourself at first."

Those words don't mean anything. The shelters say that a lot, too, but Baldur still wakes up to a hand over his mouth and a voice whispering to him to be quiet sometimes when he sleeps in one. He'll find out the real cost of staying here at some point.

But he'll find out with food in his stomach, and that's worth something.

"Yes, ma'am," He murmurs, looking up and around at the high ceiling in the entryway, carpet-covered stairs that curve up and disappear around an angle. Bookshelves, and off to one side the corner of a living room with a TV playing.

"Just Nat is fine. Kauri?"

"Got it." Kauri gives a mocking, if still friendly, salute. It makes Baldur smile - but he hides it behind his serious face when he sees Nat look at him. "I'll get him settled in. Maybe we'll stay over tonight? If that seems like a good idea, if not-"

"It sounds great."

Baldur watches her go, heading up the stairs - that creak as she walks, giving away the house's age. Wondering what she'll want him to do later on, to pay for the food, to earn the bed he'll sleep in.

He has more pills in his pocket. He can take some, and drift through whatever staying here costs, let his body and training do all the work. He's done it before, over and over again.

He'll always have to do it again, sooner or later.

When Kauri takes his hand again, he lets himself be led.

He doesn't notice the dark-haired man, Antoni, watching him from a doorway as Baldur digs out two small pills and swallows them dry while following Kauri into the kitchen.

[studysnorlax]

Why can't pokemon drink wine :( this is so sad :( :( they can't get drunk or anything

[ex0rin]

Hughie & Butcher injecting TempV | The Boys S03E06: Herogasm

[ovwechoes]

Twin Obsessions: Sombra x Reader (Fem)

Thank you for the request @dolenjoyer304 ! Here's a short yandere fic - any opinions or suggestions are always accepted, and my requests are open for anything/everything overwatch related c: Themes: obsession, stalking, mutual feelings, WLW, blood, drug use/mention & suggestive slightly. Enjoy!

Sombra was everything you wanted. That much was clear to anyone who knew you. All you wanted was her, and your love for her to be accepted, nourished, cherished. You were willing to do anything you could to achieve this, no matter who you had to walk over.

It was something instinctual when you first saw her, as though she was made perfectly for you. You were just enjoying your day, exploring your newfound home in Dorado, trying to stay safe away from any violence that passed your way when you noticed her in the shadows. Her hair glowed in the darkness, underneath her hood. You didn't know who she was at first, and when you tried to take a picture to show someone else incase they knew, she was gone. It was just a split second, and yet you were already left feeling lonely, as though part of you was missing. All you could truly remember about her, was her eyes. Her eyes spoke to you in a way no one else's ever had. 'I want you'. That's what you saw when you looked into her brown, intense, almost black eyes. You were mesmerised from the moment you saw her in Mexico, and you wanted nothing more but to be hers, to show her the love she deserved. You spent weeks trying to find out her possible identity, and even went to extreme lengths of blackmailing Los Muertos members into telling you who she was. It was all worth it; you had found out her name was Sombra, she's from Dorado as well, and she's an infamous hacker who was especially known for her skills with manipulation and blackmail. She was perfect for you, and you knew from that moment on, that you would do anything to make her yours.

Part of that was perfecting your hacking skills and making sure you were up to par to be in her realm. You knew she would trust you more if you knew what you were talking about, so you made it your mission to hone in on your skills and master your ability to hack, manipulate, and control media at your whim. It was something you drove yourself insane trying to do, and went through hell and back to get done, but it was worth it when you were able to get through to Sombra's personal computer. Using every connection you could in the hacker realm was finally paying off.

You had access to her photos, her plans, her data breaches, her intel on other organisations, everything. So, you started digging. Digging for anything to help you figure out how she felt about you. You found her exes, she still kept them saved in her emails and contacts. Pathetic. It's somewhat adorable, but you knew you were going to be better for her, and knew you could make her feel something entirely different to them. They were nothing compared to you. And so, you kept digging, searching for something you can use to figure out where she was, where she was going to be, who she was going to be with. Anything you could get your hands on was yours. And that's when you found it - an invitation to an underground rave, being held in an abandoned nightclub in the outskirts of Dorado. This was your chance, maybe your only chance. You noticed another name on the invite, one you didn't recognise at this moment; Carmen Reyes. Whoever that was, they didn't deserve to be going with Sombra. It made your stomach drop seeing someone else possibly with her. Your mind was flooded with the possibilities of what might happen, and it made you feel nauseous, like it was cosmically wrong. You had no option but to fix this mistake, and show Olivia who she truly deserves to have in her life.

The night of the rave, you made sure to wear something you could easily dispose of. Something revealing though, to show off your curves and show Olivia how desirable you are. Maybe she'll leave this Carmen and choose you once and for all. Just maybe. It's something you were willing to try before resorting to it. That was always still going to be a possibility, so you brought with you a pocket knife - nothing fancy, but just enough to rectify this mistake if needed. All you were now focused on was meeting Olivia again, and showing her how much you love her. This rave was the perfect place to go.

You had doctored an invite based on Olivia's with your own name, and made sure it was undetectable as an entry pass. You weren't willing to risk being stopped at the door like you were nothing. You had an objective, and you would do anything to complete it. As you entered the club, you noticed truly how beautiful it was. You don't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't this. 'Sombra has impeccable taste' you thought to yourself. And she truly did. The nightclub was high-tech, despite looking decrepit and ruined on the outside. Lights flickered across the room, highlighting the bodies squashed against each other like sardines in a tin can. You were transfixed by the level of tech you saw being sold around the edges of the warehouse; optical enhancements, AR implants, biometric scanner bypassers, nanotechnology, and synthetic drugs meant to induce an acid trip that lasts days on end. You knew this rave was a front for the black market, and yet you weren't scared. You were surrounded by criminals, and yet never felt safer knowing Olivia was somewhere in the room with you.

That's when you felt it; a cold, metal hand holding your shoulder from behind. You somehow knew it was a familiar woman, someone you were looking for. Deep down you knew, and yet you were terrified to turn around. When you did, you were greeted by Olivia's cunning and slick smile. Confusion set, and you stared on at her in awe. She was more beautiful than the first time you saw her - her eyes looked pitch black when the lights of the rave weren't shining on them, her skin soft and delicate. You wanted to touch it, feel it under your fingertips, trace every outline of her body, but needed to keep yourself composed.

"I know why you're here, mija." She said in a sly way, as though she was a wolf toying with it's prey, observing it's every move to analyse it's reactions. She savoured in your confusion, and you felt tiny underneath her gaze. How could she have known? Does this mean she doesn't feel the same way? You couldn't stop thinking of the negatives. You felt disgusted knowing she knew and yet still came with someone else. How could she. Before you could speak, and unfamiliar voice chimed in and interrupted your moment. It was her. You knew it was. Carmen Reyes. You already felt sick to your stomach looking at her - the total opposite of you. How could Sombra, of all people, have good taste in events but have such terrible taste in women? It confused you, but not long enough before she uttered something to Olivia in an abrupt manner.

"Come on, what are you doing? I thought we were going to get a bump. Who is this anyways?" Carmen spoke, before moving her gaze from Sombra to you, with her expression shifting from confused to disgusted. You were appalled that Olivia would accept someone like her into her life, it was deplorable. You stared back at her, eager to somehow make her regret her choices. Sombra laughed, didn't bother to reply to her but kissed her cheek and spoke to you in a soft, kind manner. "Enjoy yourself for me, you deserve it." She said, before being led to the bathrooms by Carmen, leaving you high and dry, feeling nauseated and sickened by what you just experienced. You gave yourself some time to think logically what to do next, but the anger inside you couldn't be tamed, and you had no other option but to do it. It's lucky that you prepared for this scenario.

As you watched them fade into the darkness of the nightclub, you calculated your next moves carefully. You let the anger inside you drive your desire to get rid of Carmen. Sombra didn't deserve her, she deserved you. You could make her happy, and could make her feel whole. You could give her everything she could possibly ever ask for, and yet why is she following Carmen? As she walked away, you noticed her eyes returning back to you, a smile plastered on her face, tempting you. She wanted you to follow. You knew she did. Just like you knew the first time she wanted you from her eyes.

You decided to wait longer, give yourself some more time to create distance between you and Carmen. You fiddled with the pocket knife in your hands, tracing the blade and recognising the feeling of burning blood seeping from your fingertip. That's when you realised, it wouldn't be enough. You decided to find something else, something better, to punish Carmen with at one of the several venders selling illegal weapons. 'If I'm going to kill her, I might as well do it with something worth my time', you thought to yourself. As long as it hurt her, and made clear to Olivia how undeserving of her love she is, it would work. You saw the perfect weapon after spending 10 minutes window shopping; a holo-dagger. It was an infamous stealth weapon, with a blade that was near invisible when retracted from it's handle. It was small enough to be concealed, and deadly enough to do exactly what you wanted. It was a hefty price, but nothing could cost as much as Olivia's love for you would in the long run. You bought it, and ditched your pocket knife. There was no need for it anymore, and you were ready now to follow them into the bathroom.

As you entered the bathroom, you immediately could smell the air was thick with the familiar scent of sex and neuroflare, a synthetic drug that had the same effect as Adderall with a euphoric high like weed. It was a sickly sweet smell, as though you mixed vanilla with sweat and bodily fluids. It was enough to get you high alone, but you made sure to focus. You saw littered along the walls graffiti tags from all kinds of criminals (none of whom you recognised), with the tiniest symbol that you knew was associated with Sombra and her line of work on the very last stall. No one else was there, and you knew they were cooped up in that last stall based on the sounds of sniffling, and coughing you heard coming from there. This was the perfect moment to strike, and nothing was stopping you now.

As you slammed on the door as hard as you could, you heard shuffling and scattered swears in a mixture of English and Spanish. As they slowly unlocked the door, you were greeted with the familiar, comforting sight of Olivia, looking dishevelled and messy. Her eyes were cunning, hiding something inside her. And just as she was about to speak, a familiar, rotten voice bombarded your ears. "I knew you'd follow us, who even are you? What do you want, freak?" Carmen spoke, her words filled with venom as her hands rubbed her nose restlessly. Her ugliness shone through from inside her, and it reassured you that your plans were justified. You stood there silently, watching Carmen shove herself past Olivia as though she was a guard dog - not much of one though.

As she shouted cruel, vile things at you, pushing you against the sinks across the stalls, piercing you with her nails in a pathetic attempt of dominating you, you prepared the holo-dagger and pushed the blade from it's handle. She had no idea what was to come, and you felt adrenaline rush through you body, encouraging you to do what you had to this whole time. The blade pierced her stomach quickly, subsequently quieting the harsh voice that pierced your ears before. Her hands grabbed at your clothes, desperate to hold onto you to keep herself up. You kept moving the blade and subsequently covering yourself with her blood. It felt... euphoric. Who needed drugs when you could get rid of someone who stood between you and your loved one? Your soulmate, even? As she slid down your body, and went limp, Olivia stepped over Carmen's body and moved closer to you, barely paying attention to the person she was once loved up on. What was she going to do? Run? Hide? Cry? You didn't know, and the anxiety killed you deep down.

"I didn't think you had it in you for a second, cariño. And a holo-dagger too? Must've cost you a pretty penny." She stated, her smile growing bigger and stretching as her hands wandered towards yours, touching the blade of the dagger with admiration. Her eyes looked into yours and that's when you realised something. "You knew I hacked you didn't you? That's what you meant before, right?" you asked, somewhat impressed, and somewhat nervous. Your stomach had butterflies, and you couldn't think clearly after everything that happened in front of you. All that Olivia did was smile, and place a hand on your chin, holding the gaze you both held in place. "Of course, do you really think I wouldn't see everything you were doing? Who's to say I didn't let you hack me? I saw it all, I'm just surprised you didn't know I was watching everything you did too." Her cunning personality shone through her words, as she continued explaining herself. Everything was starting to piece itself together.

"I wanted to test you, see if you felt the same way I did about you. From the moment I saw you in the street, I knew you were the one. After I saw you, I couldn't stop thinking about you, mi vida. I watched everything you did, everything you planned, and saw the anger on your face when you read her name on the invite. You're the only one I want, and you've proven yourself to me." Her words were sophisticated, carefully crafted, as though she read your mind and knew exactly what you wanted her to say in an idealistic world. A sudden wave of relaxation hit you, and you finally understood she was just like you. She was enamoured with you, faking her affections for Carmen just to see what you'd do. It was both infuriating and incredibly considerate. You finally felt the way you wanted to - loved and understood. This wasn't the end though, and as you both stood there, stained with crimson blood that seeped into your skin, you both knew that this was just the beginning. There's no going back, Sombra made it clear that you couldn't leave now after your twin obsessions were finally exposed for what they truly were.

[saulweissberg]

availability / anyone! / 5 out of 5. setting / outside of the labyrinth; monday, july 8th, around ten pm.

it wasn’t like saul was going to drug test himself. he owned his practice, and while he had to adhere to the rules of the bar association, sneaking a joint he bought off of a barback earlier that night wasn’t going to tank his career. especially not after his decades of harder drug use when he was a younger man. as he always said: find me a lawyer that doesn’t do coke. weed was different, though, practically a baby’s drug, and not exactly popular among his crowd. or, if it was, no one shared with saul (which was just plain rude). sometimes, he felt a bit of nostalgia for his college years when he couldn't walk around the columbia campus without smelling weed coming from every direction, and in his mind, smoking a joint was equivalent to his nightly glass of bourbon. having left the bar behind him, it had been a slow night inside and the street outside was equally deserted. so, fuckin’ sue him for not waiting until he got home to light up his pre-roll. inhaling the familiar taste eagerly, he kept the smoke inside his lungs for long as he could stand before slowly releasing into the night air.

his solitude didn’t last for long. just as the smoke left him, he heard footsteps to his left. though it was legal in illinois—it was bullshit to imprison anyone for weed possession in saul’s opinion, so the midwestern state did have that over some others in the country—it wasn’t a good look for a prolific small town lawyer to be caught smoking on a public street. welp. saul regarded them with a sheepish smile. “would you believe i’m just holding it for a friend?”

[epphfervescent]

Omg, Rene with the munchies tho. And didnt you say hes lactose intolerant? Cuz I'm imagining high Rene being all 'fuck you, body, we're eating this cheesecake' or something

It’s like u knew I wrote a fic where René smokes to even out & then downs some ill-advised milkshakes…

[seth-whumps]

reasons why your whumpee can't get care: a list

allergic or intolerant to necessary medication

afraid to take medicine for addictive reasons (if the med isn't addictive, a solid fever could make them believe it is)

they really, really hate the taste of cough syrup

too afraid of medical instruments (injections, stitches) (can be easily overcome by holding them down)

snowed in/can't be on roads due to weather

too isolated in wilderness/no signal to reach out

alone. no one to help, and too whumped to do anything about it

no known cure (for poisons and illnesses)

that one ingredient/supply/pill is the only thing they don't have access to

"too far gone" (is it worth trying to save them? is it a waste of resources that could help several other people on someone who probably won't survive anyway?)

no caretakers with accurate knowledge of human physiology (aliens)

refuses care from anyone except for the caretaker (who is not present)

refuses care from anyone period

caretaker cannot reach whumpee due to a physical barrier (cell, glass wall, etc)

caretaker cannot reach whumpee because of a threat, if caretaker is near them, they're also at risk (bomb threat, fires, etc)

caretaker cannot touch whumpee or risk getting the same illness

whumpee is too beat up or sick to ask for help

whumpee is Simply Too Proud to ask for help

whumpee isn't aware/doesn't believe they can ask for help

hope this is helpful to those who get stuck like I do!!! or those who need a spark of inspiration. enjoy <3

[winter-seance]

Killing Bono (2011)

[byrdstrolls]

Record Skip

Your name is Raerae Daling, and sometimes a thought gets stuck in your head like a skip on a record, like accidentally clicking speed backward on a grubtube video, like losing your spot in a paragraph and reading the first sentence over, always in threes. Today's thought is thus-

I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend,

I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend,

I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend,

-That was what you would say to the bouncer. It had to be playful enough for intrigue. The bouncer would probably be Nafisa. You know most of the bouncers in the entire west side, and the comfort of firm arms shoving you out into the gutter. But Nafisa was his go-to for these kinds of parties. She’s got a sense of humor, she’s got a want for chaos- You had to play their game for a moment. I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-grlfriend, you would say. 

No shit, she would answer. Give me one good reason to let you in.

I brought booze, you would say, holding up your shopping bags- your six packs are across the bathroom, you had put them down after purchasing this morning like they burned your hand. But you’d say-

I brought booze, 

-And Nafisa, or whatever bouncer, whoever was guarding the party would say

Shittt, can’t argue with that.

And let you in. Deep down, they all wanted to see you kick that bastard in the nose. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction, but you’d prey on their thirst, their desperation for your comment, your reaction, the showdown that was always meant to be. I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend. 

You didn’t plan on talking to your ex. There wasn’t a thing to say. You finish the slow circle of eyeliner around your eyes. You’ve never had a steady hand, but it's supposed to be messy, and you take a hand and smear it slightly across your knuckles. You stare into the bathroom mirror, your slit pupil eyes wide. Feeling like one of those dogs freezing at the sight of its reflection. You look so much like drunk Raerae your fight or flight kicks in, but it's just a costume, it's just a costume, she's just a costume. 

Don’t go to your ex’s party, your sponsor had told you, Quincy had looked tired, but he always looked tired, so it wasn’t your fault, and you couldn’t be held accountable for how you answered. Your sponsor said don’t go to that party, and then your client had said 100$ an hour, 500$ bonus if you catch him in the act. And you told them both I’m not drinking and you meant it with your whole heart, and mind, and empty bank account. 

When you make it to the outside of the mansion, the highblood estate where hive music blasts into the unforgiving darkness, the night is young. The bouncer is Nafisa, like you knew she would be. 

“Excuse me Miss” She huffs. “You got an invite?”

“You know me” You accuse. “You know me, Nafisa, I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend”

“Uh-huh. And why would I let you in?” She says, crossing her arms. 

“I brought boozeee” You grin, flashing your bags, she’s so on script you feel like kissing her, but then she ruins it. She squints at you, your running makeup, your permanently offset dress. 

“Girl, did you pregame?” She asks. 

You frown your way into a lopsided smirk, hoping she doesn’t notice your momentary disgust and confusion. 

“You know me,” You joke. You lie. “I started pregaming two nights ago.” 

“You know I’m like security, right?” 

“You know I like, brought booze? Out of the goodness of my heart? Out of the bottom of my wallet?” 

“If you go in there” She warns. “And do some stupid, insane shit like you pulled at the new sweeps party or fright night, everybodies gonna be like, who let Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend in here?” She huffs, adjusting her hijab. 

“And then Nafisa, darling Nafisa, you say, not me! You say, I’ve never seen that bitch in my life! And your lips stay shut, and my lips stay shut, and everyone wins and everyone lives a little.” You plead. 

She stares at you, but then, with a patient glance around as if to check if anyones watching, she opens the door for you, and you walk into the party. 

The place is a minefield. But that’s why you came in with two plastic bags of seltzers in your hands, with two grenades pressed into your palm pin-first so you can keep the pin tight and close and hear its heartbeat against your skin. You’ve gotta make it to the upper floors- there's got to be an elevator. The alcohol is heavy, and no way in hell you’re going up the stairs in these heels. You wander from hall to hall, from pockets of giggling drunk girls, past trolls lounging on chairs and beanbags passing back and forth pipes, the inescapable smell. You press the elevator button once, twice, three times. 

The top floor, the penthive, that’s gotta be where the seadwellers room was, it was Hesdie’s party, but it’s not his bedroom you’re breaking into. The elevator door opens to a crowded living room, but you don’t skip a beat. 

“Booze runnnn!” You slur, dumping the two bags onto the floor, to which they perk up like vultures. 

“Yoooo!” One says, a cerulean you don’t recognize. He squints at you. 

“Aren’t you that girl who jumped off the building into that hot tub once??? DUDE I remember you” 

“That’s me” You grin. “I’m Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend.” 

“Come sit with us,” He says. 

“I gotta pee” You say, walking past him further into the hive.

“Where have you been?” He says. Like you would tell him. “Nobodies seen you for months.” 

“Living it up in some rich girls apartment down east.” You lie. 

“My man,” He says. 

“I really gotta pee” You repeat, and keep walking down the hall, till you run into a long row of bedroom doors. The first bedroom you check is empty. The second has a couple in it, but they're so trashed they’re not even speaking. The third has a pair of jade’s playing cards. 

“Girl” One says, “Wtf the fuck is up with your eyes?”

You roll them, your sideways goat pupils going to the ceiling. 

“They’re contacts, ofc. Literally grey. I’m anon” You say. 

“Why not get normal ones?” 

“I’m quirky that way.” You reply. 

“Those look real dude, they’re fucking freaky.” the other one says, and you realize you’ll have to do your whole little show, one you knew by heart but still right now feels like a waste of time no matter the adrenaline rush it’d give you. 

Your hand goes to your contact case in your pocket, slyly reaching inside. The contact case had rust lenses in it, you never left home without it and you pick one up with your ring finger, balancing it delicately on the tip. 

“Here” you say, “I’ll take one out” You promise, lifting your index, the rust contact still concealed, turning your head upwards such that your fingers are obscured to the two jadebloods. You put the rust contact in your eye in one quick motion, blinking, and lift your index finger, pretending to hold a contact that is simply not there. 

“See” You shrug. “I’m a rustie” You say. Staring at them with one red and one gray eye. And you see their shoulders fall with ease and relief. You would feel more satisfaction with tricking them if you hadn’t done this one billion times, in the backs of bars, in closets and sidewalks and way, way drunker than you are now. 

“Wait, hold on a second.” The first jade says. “Aren’t you Hesdie’s ex-mate? He’s talking mad shit about you dog. Where have you been?” 

“I went on a cruise, actually. R&R for months” You lie. 

“Did you really try to steal his grubtube channel?” he asks. 

“What? No.” You say, so unsettled by the question you shut the door in his face.

Who cares, who cares, who cares what he says about you to his millions of followers, his channel will crash and burn without you. You head back down the hallway, and open the fourth door- but it's just Maindy in there, and talking to Maindy makes you sad, because you really did like him. 

“Raerae,” He says, voice laced with concern. “Is that you?” 

And how dare he be concerned, really- how dare he- whatever Hesdie said on grubtube, he was complicit- he was the editor. Hesdie never had the skill to do it himself. You like to imagine he portrayed you kindly when he could. But you had deleted grubtube off your phone months ago- you didn’t know what they were saying. 

“No.” You answer, slamming the door.

“Rae!” He calls back, shutting his husktop, following you into the hallway. Can you really be mad at him for videos you haven't even seen?

“What are you doing here?” He says, as he stalks you down the hallway to the last bedroom. “Where have you been?” He asks. “Nobodies seen you in months,” He says. 

And it's Maindy, and he's this barkbeast grub of a man, with big wide dark eyes and curls cascading down his back, and he looks at you like a guilty pet, and you can’t lie to him. 

“Rehab.” You say. 

“Oh” he says, stopping, and you try the door of the last bedroom, but it’s locked. 

“Did that… go well?” He says, taking in your state of dress, makeup, and demeanor. 

“Really well” You say, pulling a bobby pin from your hair to pick the lock. 

“I’m sober. I’m sober. I’m sober.” You say, with a different inflection each time. But it’s true. 

“I just wanted to lure everyone into a false sense of security so I could break into this hive.” You say, and the lock clicks open. 

“Oh.” He repeats. It’s so easy for them, it’s so easy for them to believe the worst of you, and why wouldn’t they?

The worst of you has millions of views. However many livestreams on Hesdie’s channel. MINECRAFT DRINKING GAME WITH MY GIRLFRIEND (gone wrong) (gone crazy). 

“Why break in?” Maindy asks. 

“For a client of mine.” You say. “Moirail of the fushia who own’s it’s matesprit.” You say, walking in and rifling through the fushia’s drawers, for a husktop- preferably a husktop. The fushia had a name, but it wasn’t important to you. 

“Oh… I forgot you used to do that Private Investigator thing” He says. 

“I’ve got bills” You answer. “No longer the luxurious grubtuber’s girlfriend.” You find an ipad plugged into the wall- bingo. You start looking through his messages. 

“Hesdie’s um,” Maindy pauses. “Saying a lot of stuff about you.” 

“So I hear” You say, flipping through the text messages, just long enough to confirm this guy is indeed cheating on his matesprit, just as your client suspected. Most PI gigs are cheaters these days. They bored you. It was always too easy. It was always too easy. It was always too easy. 

“He said that um” He stares at you as you work. “That you, um, demanded he give you his whole channel, and accused him of hemophobia when he didn’t. (he made me leave that in)” He says softly, and you can’t even stay mad, because Maindy was paying off student loans, and Hesdie pays him well, because Hesdie knows he’s not actually funny and his channel will crash and burn without Maindy’s editing, just like it will crash and burn without your hilarity. Just give it time.

“I did none of that” You say. 

“Well what happened?” he asks. 

“None of your business” You say, texting screencaps to your client, plugging the ipad back into the wall, you walk past Maindy back into the hall, and shut the door on him. 

“Go fuck yourself” You say, and it doesn't matter to you much whether you or he earned it or not anymore, its a night for slamming doors, and suddenly you have to be out of this party, you want to not be here more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life. Why didn’t you listen to your sponsor? You begin the long trek back to the elevator, and past the living room, and to the front door, and very few minutes someone stops you and says hey, aren’t you that hemoanon who chugged a bottle of capiers on a dare? Aren’t you that girl who did a line off a pocketknive in a livestream? Aren’t you that troll who set fire to Hesdie’s kitchen last New Sweep party? 

Aren’t you Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend? 

Aren’t you Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend? 

Aren’t you Hesdie’s crazy ex-girlfriend? 

And you don’t run into him the whole night, you just hear his name spoken again and again like it’s your own, but you know that by three am most nights mid-high he likes to mellow out in jacuzzi’s and hot tubs, and the pools are on the third floor, and you know he’d be there, and you avoid it like the plague. Right now, somebody, maybe one of those jades or those guys on the living room floor is walking up to him and they’re probably saying hey, your ex-girlfriend was upstairs with two six packs, she was opening bedroom room doors, 

And he’d lean back, running a hand through his hair and he'll say 

Damn, she really is obsessed with me

Nafisa watches you head out the front door at a brisk pace to where you’ve parked and she tries not to look too disappointed.

[goldenboybridgers]

// @gollldrush gets a lil high school!au thing bc i felt like it

Aurora's head is spinning. He's laid flat on the ground, staring up at the ceiling, the way it warps and pulsates. Everything in him is upside down. Topsy-turvy. He can hardly even speak without it sounding like mere gibberish. A small laugh reaches his lips still, quickly turns into a fit of giggles.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," ze laughs, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to laugh, it's just..." Squinted eyes peer over at Leo, a wobbly grin plastered to zir face. "I can't remember the last time I felt this happy."

Before zir mum got sick, probably. Back when life was much simpler. When ze didn't need to work two jobs just to help zir mother pay the bills, to try and find a way to get her help. A low hum of a sigh, easing off from the laughter.

"You do this a lot? I mean, like...All the time? Or just some of the time? It's really good."

[nekrophoria]

When you hit your 30s and you start looking like a twink version of Rob Zombie in the Dragula vid.

I know man, it's rough.