#substance abuse tw

[wheatnoodle]

TW//

substance abuse, addiction, self medicating

-

eddie munson does not trust steve harrington.

more specifically, eddie munson does not trust steve harrington to be driving his sheep.

now don’t get him wrong, eddie likes steve, he really does! they get along wonderfully and spend a lot of time together since dustin brought them together. thats not the problem.

the problem is that when billy hargrove rocked harrington’s shit a few years back, eddie gained a new customer. a customer who asked for “something stronger” because weed wasn’t helping his migraines and his night terrors.

when robin notices eddie staring daggers into the side of steve’s head because he watches him wipe his nose on his hand as he steps out of the bathroom, she tells him it’s a nervous motion to calm himself down. eddie doesn’t buy it for a second.

he stares at steve all night. waiting for his nose to start bleeding or to catch a glimpse of something dusty on his hand or around his nostrils. but he doesn’t say anything though. at least not until it starts getting close to curfew and steve is standing from the couch.

“alright, kiddos! time to pack up before your parents start to panic,” he claps his hands together before reaching into his front right pocket for his car keys. eddie’s up in an instant with a nervous smile, ignoring the groans of protest in the wheeler basement to focus on steve.

“hey, why don’t i drive the rats home? you- you said you’ve got an early shift, right? go home, go to sleep.” he hopes he sounds convincing. eddie shoves his hands in his back pockets, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his feet. steve’s brows pull together in confusion and he lets out a chuckle.

“it’s alright, man. you drove them, i can take them back,” steve says and shakes his head. eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“i just mean, you seemed tired during the movie. sort of…nodding off…” eddie can see the tension in steve’s body. his jaw clicks closed behind his lips and he’s suddenly staring at eddie with a stronger intensity than he would like.

“i’m fine, munson,” steve says firmly, quiet for only eddie. eddie holds his ground. this isn’t king steve, this is just steve. there’s nothing to cower from.

“steve,” he says softy, almost pleadingly, “i’m not okay with you driving them tired.”

“i’m. fine,” steve punctuates. his eyes are wide, hurt, as they flick between eddie’s. he knows he won’t back down.

“steve.”

after a few beats of silence, steve scoffs and turns on his heel. without even a goodbye to the group, he’s out of the basement and out the door.

eddie turns back to the party who’s staring at him like he has three heads.

“…okay. rats, buckley, let’s head out.”

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1332

TW: Substance Abuse | Overdose

Anon asked:

Do you have some prompts for a whumpee struggling with substance abuse after some bad things happening in their life, and their friend / caretaker supporting them through it?

A few:

Maybe the caretaker notices erratic behaviour and decides to address it gently. This could lead to a discussion, or even an argument if the whumpee tries to deny it despite the evidence being clear. (Why do they try to deny it? Are they ashamed? Embarrassed? Worried about what people are going to think?)

The caretaker could find out about the abuse when the whumpee hits rock bottom. They could get a call from the hospital/a concerned friend etc. Maybe they haven't heard from the whumpee in a few days, so decide to do a welfare check of sorts. They could get there just in time to witness the whumpee overdosing.

Does the whumpee relapse? Do the caretakers threaten to give up on them?

^ I like the idea of the caretaker saying that in private, but the whumpee accidentally overhears.

During recovery they celebrate small victories - a day sober, three days sober, a week sober etc etc. It becomes tradition to get a cake for every milestone. Maybe at a longer milestone - when the whumpee as gotten much better - it's not until late at night that they realise it's a milestone day. Their only option is to go to a gas station to find a cake, but their only choices are the questionable hotdogs, flowers, a chocolate bar, or even more questionable sushi.

At first the whumpee rejects professional help, but seeing the strain it puts on the caretakers, they decide to seek out a therapist.

Don't forget the withdrawal symptoms.

What kind of coping mechanisms do they put in place? Chewing gum? Knitting? Folding laundry?

On the emotional side - the whumpee has to work very hard to repair the relationships they damaged.

[thehateman]

might get easier, but you don't get used to it

[maskednerd]

[para-normalcanine]

hey daily reminder that being pro-bodily autonomy means people can do whatever they want with their bodies - including harmful things such as substance abuse and self harm. Forced recovery goes against advocating for bodily autonomy. Would I prefer people recover and not hurt themselves? Yes. Can I make them? No. Is it my place *to* make them? Hell no.

[the-whumping-hour]

Day 1 - Helpless

@febuwhump day 1!!!

CW: Mean caretaker (who is caretaking against his will), said caretaker making whumpee cry, multiple mentions of drug abuse, one mention of broken glass, one mention of broken bones, little hints of classism and ableism, annoyance at whumpee's fidgeting. 

Notes: Top ten men who break the Hippocratic oath by being fucking losers. Happy Febuwhump Day 1!!!! As this challenge continues, I may link related stories together. For those who are new, welcome to the hellscape! 

***

They’re still awake. Of course they’re still awake.

And sure, Seiah may be a medic, clinically certified and all, but hell if it means he can’t be pissed off at Felic Fucking DiMaggio.

“You got percs?” That idiot, the little whiny rat quietly digging a hole into the sofa cushion, hadn’t talked in almost fifteen minutes, which Seiah had hoped meant they’d be falling back into half-sleep soon enough. No such luck.

“No,” he snaps, hazel eyes tinged with streaks of insomnia roll up at them over his laptop. “Forty minutes and you can have more meds. I’m trying to study.”

Back to silence. Or almost— he swear he can hear threads ripping with every quiet tap of Felic’s fingernails against the seam. Just because it’s an old couch doesn’t mean anything. Just because they’re a 'friend' doesn’t mean anything. 

“Do you need a stress ball or something?” He’s trying to be nice. He really is. 

“You got one?” They still sound seconds from crying, or maybe that’s just the city drawl, thick in the back of their nose like they’ll hack it up with a hairball. They sound sick, look sick, they always look sick. Sick when they’re tweaking in meetings and sick now, bits of glass and two fractures in their leg and still they’re acting like they’re using every little scheming wrinkle in their brain to act normal. Not normal; something worse. Someone competent, or well-off, or anything other than a leech tagging along with the Rift Guard to seem like a savior.

And they reek like burning plastic.

He digs through his desk drawer. “Best I’ve got is a box of paperclips.” It leaves his hand with a rattle, a tinny sound that makes Felic twitch their head with a grimace, as the box hits their leg and falls into the cushion divot. They seem to paw it like a cat. “I can check the bedroom, but I need Gabe to rest…” he trails off.

“Nah, ‘s fine, ‘s fine.” They’ve maneuvered into some other horribly contorted position, leg still dangling off the couch like something dead. He hopes they’re content. He swears, if they’re not… but no, now it’s back to his pediatrics assignment, back to… reading this same section, again, and...

Holy fucking shit.

They’re using the paperclips. To pick at the fucking couch.

“No. No, you know what? Screw this.” Maybe it’s that stupid ugly couch, or his own lack of sleep, or how disgustingly pitiful they look in an oversized hoodie and bandages down an entire pale, skinny leg. “Done studying. Not even gonna try. Is that what you wanted? You want my attention? Gonna keep me up another three fucking hours because your tummy hurts when I don’t let you take every pill in this city?”

Maybe he should’ve thought that through more. Maybe, but it’s too late. Sue him. If this bitch wakes up Gabe, if they disrupt the final second of peace anywhere in this world at all—

They’re crying. No, no, no.

Shit, they’re crying.

“Felic.” His whisper-yells get more frantic. “Felic. Felic. Felic, hey, no, Felic, I’m sorry, I didn’t, I’m just tired, we’re all tired, Felic please,” out of his chair and onto the ground in front of them, they’re shaking like a leaf, no sounds but little sob-hiccups as their hands twist and wring themselves in their sleeves. They really are some helpless little thing, a pigeon stuck in a storm drain. “Look at me, look, I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad at you. Calm down, calm down, just, I didn’t even do anything Felic, please just do this for me please…”

A knock at the door. Gabe.

“What’s going on?” His voice is rough with sleep, hair falling in curls over his eyes. And Seiah loves him, he loves him so much, but the look on his face when he sees Felic. As if they deserve it. As if the rat deserves any of this. “Did they have a nightmare?”

“They were never asleep at all, actually, which is—“

The glare Gabe gives him shuts him up quick.

“You need to give them space.” He motions Seiah away, impatient yet calm, locking eyes with the hairball having a breakdown on the couch. 

“No, listen, everything’s fine.”

“Clearly it’s not,” he retorts, still as calm as ever. “Go get some rest, Seiah, I’ve got this.” 

“We need to talk about this later.”

“Yes. Later. Shh,” he motions, and now he’s back to Felic, and it’s like Seiah isn’t here at all. Is this what his fucking job at the Rift Guard is? Keeping the rats on a leash?

Well, there’s no reason to stay here anyways. Seiah rises to his feet, computer abandoned, boyfriend preoccupied with a little bitch. 

Whatever. It’s not even a nice couch anyways.

He shuts the door. 

[riintasticresources]

💔💢😥--- Angsty Lyrical Sentence Starters

"And how about you just take some blame?"

"You should just forget my name."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"You give me nothing, but somehow it's always enough."

"And I'm terrified that you could leave me crying."

"Is there a word for bad miracle?"

"But, could we please pretend this won't end?"

"I wish it wasn't true."

"You clearly weren't aware that you made me miserable."

"'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty."

"I didn't cry when you left at first."

"I'd run away and hide with you."

"Everybody says they love me, but I'm still brokenhearted."

"I swear I'm not crying, the sun's just bright."

"Nothing good happens after 2am."

"I can't make it on my own."

"I'm just trying to be happy."

"Tomorrow might be good for something."

"He/She/They hasn't been sober for days."

"Was it something I did? Was it something you said?"

"It's like I'm the one you love to hate."

"No one will love you like I did."

"So, good luck finding something better."

"__, why are you calling me so late?"

"I guess we never really moved on."

"This rejection's got me so low."

"Who was I to make you wait?"

"My bad habits lead to late nights ending alone."

"I was looking for a way out, now I can't escape."

"I don't think I understand it all."

"We all got a dark side, we all try to hide."

"'Cause the truth is we're no different than the others."

"Will you never call again?"

"Will you never say you loved me?"

"I wish I could care less."

[wildmelon]

Would you be comfortable sharing more about your Infamous MC?

i would love to 😈🙈🖤 this is gracer glass, lead singer of [tbd]

her legal name is grace robak. in kindergarten, there were three graces in her class, and going by "grace r" evolved into gracer. so she's always gone by gracer, but uses a fake surname

1000% has undiagnosed adhd. incapable of thinking ahead

is the biggest flirt & romances everyone but gets very vulnerable and sad around seven

has a very hard lesson to learn that natural talent can only take her so far and she will eventually have to get it together and take her career more seriously

was a theater kid until high school. playing belle in beauty and the beast in 8th grade remains one of her greatest accomplishments

generally over-the-top friendly and extroverted but has a mean streak. incredibly petty

hates her negligent parents. the source of her substance abuse issues

loves music but not as much as she loves attention

[neonstatic]

alright i think the real problem is that i am rawdogging life. i suffer and despair and lose my marbles and then i. like. eat a box of donut holes. booooring! everything is awful and numb and lackluster. i've got to do smth else. to feel things more extremely. and since i'm not having crazy nasty freaky sex, i've got to start abusing substances!! there are no other options

[fentanyl-rabbits]

[poisonousdelights]

PARTIES: @poisonousdelights & @contemporarybardess TIME: Beginning of March WHERE: The Sugar Pot SUMMARY: After Isa brings a sweet treat in for her coworkers her and Elora begin to talk about some uncomfortable topics. Elora lets some things slip about the shop and it's owner and soon after wishes she hadn't opened her mouth. WARNINGS: Alludes to substance abuse tw and drug abuse tw. Also alludes to parental death tw.

For as many times as the customers at The Sugar Pot had made her feel like a worthless human being, there were just as many times where Isa’s coworkers had made her feel the exact opposite. Alistair finding out the true nature of her incarceration had been the very thing to seal her love for the people that she worked with, the man having taken it in stride and not let it color his judgment of her. It was the acceptance, the way that he made her past seem like no big deal, that had made her walk into work the next day with her head held high and a renewed sense of pride. 

So, of course she brought cupcakes.

There were half a dozen cupcakes from the Bread Cemetery in hand when she made her way behind the counter, a mental note in mind to hide away the chocolate for her boss and another for Tommy when he inevitably walked through the door that day. She did it almost immediately before she forgot and the two ended up with nothing later on. But the rest, the rest of them were free game. Isa opened the box as she walked up to Elora, a bright smile on her face as she held it out to her. “Pick one. Or two, I don’t mind. We just have to save one for Melody.”

Another day at The Sugar Pot, and another day of serving up smiles. At least, that’s what Elora would always say when she was on the job. In truth, customer service sucked. It definitely wasn’t awful, and her coworkers definitely made the experience much better. Sure there was some shady business done in the back which Elora largely ignored. She just had to keep head down and tell herself that Alistair always had a good justification for what went on back there.

As she locked eyes with Isa, carrying a container of cupcakes, her eyes lit up immediately. 

“These are for us? That’s so sweet of you!” Elora said to her coworker before happily grabbing her favorite, red velvet. “Any particular occasion? Or just having a bit of a sweet tooth?” she asked, flashing a coy smile. 

“Ahhh, of course. Melody works hard here, we definitely can’t leave her without one. These look great by the way, where did you get them?” 

Immediately, the stop by the bakery and the spent cash that she probably should have held onto was worth it. The joy that just the sight of the cupcakes had brought to Elora was everything she had needed to tell her this was a good idea. “Maybe a bit of both. Definitely the sweet tooth but a small celebration for a victory I didn’t think I would ever get.” Isa was going to be tight lipped though. Even if Melody and Alistair accepted what had happened, that didn’t mean her coworkers would be comfortable with her situation if they didn’t already know. “Also, Alistair is a good man and I thought he deserved a cupcake. I didn’t want to play favorites though.”

She beamed at the mention of Melody’s work, nodding her head vigorously. “ Yes, yes she does. And she does such a good job. This place is perfect, don’t you think?” Maybe Isa was laying it on a little thick but she couldn’t help it. She felt like the shop was sent to her as some sort of savior, especially now that she wasn’t constantly worried that her boss would fire her over a charge that she didn’t deserve. “Oh, the Bread Bakery. You haven’t been? If you haven’t, you’re in for a treat because those are delicious.”

Elora nodded when she mentioned celebrating a victory as well as Alistair. Elora didn’t know much about Isa yet, but she was curious about the victory she was talking about. As for Alistair being a good man, she already knew the darker underlayer behind Alistair’s kind demeanor. She knew his help always came with a price. But instead, she opted not to say anything quite yet. 

“Ah, well if I can benefit off of Alistair’s kindness even more, then I’ll happily do that! I’m sure he’ll love them.”

Elora took a bite of her cupcake and looked around the store, taking in the splendor of the meticulously decorated store around them. “It definitely is! Melody is a miracle worker, I swear. She really knows how to make a place feel nice and home-y.” 

She’d ordered a few things from the bread bakery from time to time. She also knew Lil from her adventures in the haunted house. They had even offered her a job when she first came to town, which she turned down for another opportunity that didn’t pan out. Thankfully Alistair had stepped in and given her a job when she had needed it. She noticed he seemed to have a habit of doing this. “I’ve been there a few times, actually! Great place, never tried their cupcakes though. Glad to see they’re just as good as the rest of their baked goods. Really nice people that own the place too!”

As Elora finished her cupcake, she decided to finish getting everything set up for when customers start coming in. “So, I take it you like it here so far? Customer service isn’t too frustrating for you? ‘Cause I’ll be honest, I have my moments sometimes” she said, followed by a laugh to imply she was joking, even though she wasn’t. She hated customer service. But she also had bills. 

“I don’t know how she does it all with having Tommy as well. Superhuman, I guess.” Leaning against the counter, arms stretched out over the top, Isa couldn’t stop the realization that it was actually possible to be a superhuman. Hell, she could turn into a snake, there was no telling if Melody could shift or not. Though she wasn’t quite sure how shifting could help someone run a store so the comment was a little skewed. 

Thinking back to her experience at the bakery, she had to agree with the other girl. The people there had been nothing but nice if not a tiny bit strange. Or maybe the shop itself was a little strange. Either way, Isa enjoyed it. It was better than boring. “I heard you’re supposed to stay away from their bagels though. Not sure why but someone warned me against them before I even walked in the door so I just…didn’t get any. Not that I was there for them.” And nothing had seemed too off about them when her gaze had lingered on them a little longer than they should have. If people were warning against them though, she imagined the staff was used to a side eye or two toward the display. 

Elora couldn't have known how uncomfortable her question would make the lamia feel. Her smile faded a little as she thought back to how some of the customers could treat her, sure that the other was unaware of this because they didn’t work together too often. She started to pick at the ends of her fingers as nervous laughter bubbled to the surface. “It’s the worst part of the job, honestly. It wasn’t my first choice but…this place was the only job I could get when I was applying.” There were no indications of a joke as there was with Elora, but she shrugged it off as if it didn’t hurt to have people constantly glaring in her direction, some even refusing to let her help them. “I’m not well liked in this town. Which is why I owe a lot to Alistair.”

Elora couldn’t do much other than nod in agreement. She had never been a fan of children and the task of raising one always seemed like a massive undertaking she really wanted no part of. Melody did indeed seem almost superhuman in that respect.

Elora cocked her head at Isa’s comment about the bakery’s bagels. “What makes the bagels so bad? And why do they keep making them? Seems hard to mess up a bagel when you get so much else right.” She then shrugged her shoulders and continued setting up the register for the day. She hadn’t been inside the store very often, usually just to pick up an order very briefly. She wondered if there was more to the store than met the eye. Then she realized that of course there was more to the store than met the eye. That described pretty much every store in Wicked’s Rest, including this tea shop! 

She could see Isa immediately become uncomfortable and felt a pit of guilt boring into her gut. She had clearly struck some sort of nerve, even if she was trying to play if off. She didn’t know much about the other woman, but she seemed kind enough. She couldn’t wrap her head around why so much of the town would ostracize her like that. 

“I get it. I had a hard time finding a place to work too. I had a good one lined up, but it unfortunately fell through, and money was running out quick. Thankfully Alistair was able to take me in too. I don’t have any formal education, grew up way off the grid, and no other marketable skills. You can imagine that would make finding a job nearly impossible.” She then looked over at the girl, who so kindly brought cupcakes in for the other employees. “I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t be well liked. I know we don’t know each other all that well but you seem very kind to me! Some people in this town are just…well..assholes. And others are really cagey and standoffish, for good reason I guess. What’s important is that the people who like you are the ones who matter. And so far it seems you at least have me and Alistair. 

“I don’t know. Something about them being haunted and assaulting people? It was weird.” And she wouldn’t admit to keeping an eye on the baked goods the whole time she was getting those cupcakes. Isa didn’t truly believe things could be haunted but she’d enough weird things to think something else could be going on. Like a spellcaster playing a ‘fun’ joke on unsuspecting people. That’s what they did, after all.

It was a surprise to find that Elora had trouble with the job hunt as well but she supposed that she shouldn’t have been too shocked. Alistair really did take in the strays, didn’t they? They had said as much when they had discussed her own employment with her but it hadn’t registered until Isa heard Elora’s story. It only made her happier to be working with someone who cared so much for others that they would give second chances to those who needed it. “I guess we both owe a lot to them, huh?” She was also curious though, and not shy when it came to bringing up what she didn’t understand. “What does ‘off the grid’ mean? Was it bad?”

Her lips pressed together when Elora brought up the fact that she didn’t understand, confirmation that she had no clue about her past. The rumor mill must not have reached her yet or maybe this shop was immune to it all. She took a moment to think about whether she wanted to get into it or not. The last thing Isa wanted was for her coworker to feel uncomfortable with her but eventually she would hear it from a disgruntled customer who didn’t know how to keep their mouth shut. The best thing would be for Elora to hear it from her, right?

“So, a lot of people think I did something awful that I didn’t do. I mean, I went to prison because of it, they found me guilty, but I never did it. I wouldn’t have…” She sighed softly, her last moments with Ruth popping into her head. “I wouldn’t have hurt her. But they think I pushed a friend of mine off of a water tower one night.” She stopped there, not wanting to relive the night anymore than she had to. “Just bad circumstances, really.” At least Isa had Alistair, and Maggie. Maggie was all she would need in life. But…hopefully she could still have Elora on her side too. 

After everything she’d endured over the past year or so, Elora could do nothing but roll her eyes at the notion of the bagels assaulting people. 

“Killer pastries, color me shocked!” she said sarcastically. She was surprised the tea leaves in the shop weren’t sentient and bloodthirsty. Still, she found herself morbidly curious about visiting the bakery just to see if those claims were true. At this point she found the idea charming rather than terrifying. 

“Well hey, if you say you didn’t do it, I believe you.” She said thoughtfully. People in this town tended to assume the worst in people. Oftentimes these assumptions were correct, but could still lead to some false beliefs of guilt. 

“More than anything else, I believe Alistair is a good judge of character. In spite of their own…complexities. If they believe you’re a good person, then so do I!””

The girl’s sarcastic response did help relieve some of the tension that Isa was now feeling as the conversation geared towards her uncomfortable past. She gave a hesitant laugh, still waiting for the shoe to drop but somehow it didn’t. It amazed her that she was starting to meet more and more people around this town that didn’t hate her for the things that happened to Ruth and she couldn’t help but feel a little choked up 

But she pushed it back knowing it would be a little strange for her to cry in front of someone just because they said they believed her. It wasn’t something she was able to do the night before but at least she’d been online when she was talking to Alistair. Needless to say, her heart and good mood soared to new levels. “I appreciate that so much, Elora. I can’t believe how…accepting everyone is at this shop.” And she couldn’t. It was the weirdest thing to go from being so hated to being so accepted in the span of twenty-four hours. 

But something did catch her attention. Isa wasn’t as focused on her own issues once Elora brought up their boss and their issues. The curiosity got the better of her. “What do you mean when you say complexities?”

Regardless of what Isa may or may not have been guilty of, Elora was hardly in a place to judge. She thought back to her old colony. Her friends, her father and mother. Their images ripped through her brain again, sending shockwaves, causing her to tense her face and clench her fist a bit. She composed herself quickly thereafter. Now was not the time for another breakdown. 

“We all have skeletons in our closet. Nothing’s black and white, I think anybody here can tell you that. What really matters is what you’ve done since your past.” she said with a casual shrug of the shoulders. “Besides, the official record doesn’t tell even half the truth most of the time. If you say you’re innocent, then I believe it until I have a reason not to.” 

Elora paused a bit at Isa’s question, not sure exactly how to proceed. Her first meeting with Alistair told her all she really needed to know about them. She had just assumed that Isa was at least somewhat filled in on what they really does behind the scenes. But now it seemed that the woman was oblivious to that, that Alistair was simply a kindly blind tea shop manager handing out jobs to supernatural orphans. 

“You know…complexities. Their…” Elora contemplated lying, which she was horrible at.The only time she’s able to convince people of anything other than the truth is when she compels them to believe it. And she was certainly not about to break her “no powers unless absolutely necessary” rule for something relatively minor such as this. “Well you know, Their little shady side business they run in the back.” she said simply, hoping the other woman would leave it at that.

She saw the way Elora had disappeared somewhere else, somewhere that wasn’t as nice as the tea shop with their cupcakes and the beautiful aromas floating through the air. There was definitely something upsetting about the place she had gone judging by the look on her face but Isa wasn’t going to push it. It was uncomfortable enough talking about a bad instance in the past when everybody already knew about it, she couldn’t imagine being coaxed into talking about her secrets when she was new to town. But something did happen. That much was confirmed when the other girl spoke up once more. “Yea, I guess we do. Just call this the shop of misfit toys.”

It was so refreshing and the lamia was so relieved until she saw Elora hesitate to answer her question. What could the kind person who had given her a second chance at laugh be doing that could qualify as a complexity. Frowning while she waited for her coworker to keep going, Isa allowed so many things to run through her mind. There was so much she was learning about this town that she hadn’t previously known about so the wildest thoughts kept coming to mind. 

“Shady side business…?” Oh, that did not sound good. Oh, no…what kind of shady side business? “Please tell me they’re not doing anything illegal.” Because she was still on probation. If her probation officer came by and found out her boss was doing something that could land them in jail she would most certainly head back there herself and Isa really didn’t want to have to quit her job. No one else would take her. “What exactly are they doing?”

“Shop of misfit toys is pretty accurate! I feel like the jack in the box with the broken spring.” Elora said with a smirk. She knew that she didn’t have many other opportunities for employment, same as Isa, so was grateful for what she could get. And, after all, Alistair and Melody were very good to her. 

“Oh well um…” Elora hesitated at Isa’s question. Illegal seemed like an understatement for what went on in that back room. “Nothing very bad, honestly.” Depended on your outlook. “You know he was a pharmacist before he lost his sight, right? Well he’s still in the business of healing people. Just uses more unconventional means to do it, sort of like herbal remedies!” Sort of like them, but also nothing like them at all. “It’s a tea shop after all, we have plenty of material. And no, I don’t think that counts as illegal since it technically isn’t practicing medicine.” Another half truth. Murder certainly wasn’t practicing medicine. 

“I’m just, yknow, not into all that new age healing shit. I’d much rather rely on more traditional medicine, but to each their own!” She looked over to Isa, hoping she hadn’t caused her too much worry. “Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out too much!”

“Only if I can be the boat that won’t float.” It was a joke but a halfhearted one at that. It’s how Isa felt sometimes, always drowning. Or at least struggling not to sink below the surface. Suddenly she was wondering how this happy conversation had turned so depressing.

Even as Elora tried to explain what she meant, the lamia had a gut feeling that the explanation given wasn’t exactly what was going on in the back. It was plausible, yes, and Isa had no problem with Alistair trying to heal people but the shakiness of Elora’s words made her doubt their truthfulness. It was all very sketchy but she wasn’t about to come right out and say that. 

Maybe it was better that Isa knew nothing about it all. Maybe that’s how it should be since she was already in trouble with the law around here. If she stayed out of whatever Alistair was doing in that back room then she couldn’t be seen as an accomplice, right? But then there was the explanation that was given and how Elora made a point to say herbal remedies. Why did that sound like something she needed to look into? No, she didn’t have any ailments herself, which she was very thankful for, but it all gave the impression that her boss might know where to start when it came to her unique issues. Spellcasters used that stuff, right? Maybe they could point her in the direction of a market where she could run into some…

“No…you didn’t freak me out too badly. I’m still on probation so being involved with a business that’s doing illegal things wouldn’t have been a good thing. But it makes sense.” She still looked doubtful as Isa gazed up at her coworker but she hoped that Elora would believe that she’d dropped the subject. She had, at least for now. “I shouldn’t be worried, right? It’s just herbs?”

Elora couldn’t help but feel as though her explanation was rather shaky, but Isa certainly didn’t lead on to that  suspicion as she breathed a  sigh of relief. Alistair the herbalist she recited in her head. It had a nice ring to it, she had to admit.

“Yeah, you know Al.” Why did she call them Al? “Always looking for ways to promote his tea and healing properties. But yes, completely legal herbs only. The fun ones you have to go under the bridge in Deersprings at…uh, nevermind. You’re on probation, probably not a good idea to tell you.” 

Elora couldn’t help but grow increasingly curious about the nature of her alleged crime, but knew better than to pry. Some skeletons are better left in their closets, locked away safely where nobody can set them free.  Elora began to feel that the long the conversation continued the more likely she was to let something slip that she wasn’t supposed to. She decided to cut the interaction short by making herself busy. 

“Oh wow, I just realized there’s a whole case of jasmine tea leaves in back that I haven’t stocked yet. I should probably get on that. Okay, back to work!” She said, halfheartedly clapping her hands, hoping that would be enough signal to end the conversation and get back to work.

“Fun herbs?” Oh how she missed fun herbs. One day, a day when she was no longer being held back by an angry man who didn’t like her just because he had to test her every now and then, she would be able to let loose and enjoy those fun herbs once more. Maybe she’d go to…Al, as Elora called them, then since they apparently knew where the good stuff was.,,if that's what they were actually doing. Isa wanted so badly to believe that but deep down she somehow knew that there was more to this that Elora wasn’t telling her. It made her nervous but what else could she do?

For some reason she also thought that her coworker was keeping secrets about herself as well. She wasn’t one to pry into people’s business, Isa always wanted to extend that courtesy since she wanted that respect in return, but she couldn’t help but wonder what was going on there. Elora was new to town but in her experience the newbies were the ones with the most sordid pasts. She had said she was a misfit toy, after all.

Both of these suspicions seemed more plausible when Elora tried to scurry off, most likely to get away from a coworker who didn’t seem too convinced about the legality of this business. It only made her more curious about it all but the lamia decided to keep quiet as she nodded. “You know what? I told Alistair I would clean the dispensers so I should probably get on that.” She gave a halfhearted smile before she turned to start on her task but her mind was racing with what this could all possibly mean. What was Alistair really doing in that back room? How did Elora get involved with it all? And was she possibly in danger of going back to prison because of it? 

Fuck, she hoped not.

[kaijuboarcreations]

Some van Zieks bros headcanons I'd like to share

-Barok appearance wise takes more after his father but has a personality more similar to his mother, Klint looks more like their mother but has their father's personality

-Thier paternal line comes from the Netherlands. Their great grandfather studied law in England, and remained through his law career. His contributions to the legal system is what gained him the noble tittle that was passed onto his descendants who also followed in his footsteps in working in law.

-Barok and Klint's parents died in a carriage accident when Barok was only 6 and Klint 16. While he had help getting little Barok dressed and fed by the household servants, Klint had to do a lot of Barok's raising on his own.

-Even well before his despair that led up to his killings, Klint would have boughts of severe stress and depression. Between raising Barok, and all the pressure he put on himself to succeed as a prosecutor and do his family line justice he was under constant stress, though he was good at putting on a brave face. It wasn't an unrealistic expectation for his parents but he was just a child himself and had to put himself through training and school to get where he needed to be.

-After their parents' death, Barok was prone to nightmares that would leave him shaking and crying. He had to sleep next to Klint for a while. It helped prevent the nightmares in the first place but when they did happen it helped to have Klint right beside him to sooth him when he woke up.

-Barok eventually grew out of the nightmares and it seemed they were gone for good. That was until Klint's death. Between losing his brother and now being the target of physical attacks by the disgruntled goons of the reaper victims, they came back worse than ever. It persisted for years and was one of the factors that led him to his five year gap.

-While the van Zieks brothers (and their father for that matter when he was alive) were always rather indulgent in wine, Barok got badly into drinking during his five year gap. By the time he returned, he was still a functional alcoholic but didn't actually drink as much as he used to. He found ways to calm his drinking vice down, for example pouring out a glass, perhaps taking one or two sips, or just smelling and swishing it, and then throwing it when he felt inclined to start stress drinking.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1317

Submitted by Anon - thanks!

A whumpee who got out, who got better.

A caregiver. who is so relieved the worst is over and whumpee may not be back to their old self, but they seem okay and on some days caregiver isn't even reminded of what happened…

Until they catch the whumpee indulging in old patterns. Maybe the whumpee secretly punishes themselves. Maybe whumpee lets it slip they see themselves as less than human. Maybe the indulge in the form of unhealthy relationships or substance abuse.

The caregivers whole world comes crashing down while whumpee completely undoes any progress before their eyes as they realize they got caught.

[monsterohnenamen]

[museaes]

BAMBI’S WEB WEAVES 4/?: FINNICK ODAIR.

if you feel nothing then why are you shaking?

[whileurmine]

aha ! I know what I will do with this David harbour muse. smth revolutionary smth I have never done before smth so unique it will impress all my followers. I will give him..... depression.... and substance abuse problems. my mind ugh it amazes me sometimes snndndnd