#this was inspired by. me being high and smoking out of a bong for the first time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

danakin-skywalker · 3 years

Text

Blow (Sam Kiszka Imagine)

Taglist: just @flowervanfleet so far! Let me know if you want to be added as well!

CONTENT WARNING: Substances legal in certain states including the one I currently live in

(A/N): Hey guys! Time for the first piece of original writing posted from this blog!! This is a fic I wanted to write because, based off other Sammy fics I’ve read, it seems like he’s known as the bigger pothead of the four. Smoking recreationally is a habit I picked up in college and have maintained since, so I thought it’d be nice to write a fic about Sammy and the reader having a smoke and getting a little too ~cozy~ for friendship. This was mostly inspired by a tiktok I saw last week that was something along the lines of “when he hands you a freshly packed bowl and says ‘all for you mama’ with those glazed eyes.”

But this is just fluff. I have some spicier ideas for later........

So stay tuned

****************************************************

Blow

You walk into the garage, a distinctly familiar smell hitting your nose as you shut the door. The door shutting alerts the boys to your presence, who are playing what looks like a very serious game of Mario kart. They dart their heads over for a split second before turning back to the screen

“Hey, Y/N” Jake calls out. “Come join the party” Josh adds.

You take an exaggerated whiff of the air, eyeing the joint roach in the ashtray, and cross your arms playfully. “You guys smoked without me?”

Jake chuckled. “Sorry, it’s been a long day. YES. EAT SHIT, DANNY!” He jumps up in celebration while the TV chimes that he passed the finish line. Soon, it chimes another three times to signal everyone has finished the race.

Sam jumps up and tosses you his controller. “Here, take my place I’ll pack you something”

Your heart flutters for a moment. You’d consider all the guys your close friends, but you always had some lingering chemistry with Sam. He was always willing to go above and beyond for you and make you feel special. You don’t see it, but Jake and Josh share a short glance and a smirk.

“No, no, it’s fine Sammy I wasn’t actually-“ you start to protest but he’s already up with the bong in hand, bringing it to the side table.

“It’s fine, I suck at this game when I’m high. Maybe you’re better.” You look at the screen and see he’s placed 10th and you shrug with a smile.

“Yeah, that shouldn’t be too hard”

The guys laugh a bit and suddenly a crumpled up piece of paper is being launched at you from Sam. You smirk and chuck it right back as you hear one of the guys select “next race.”

You certainly end up doing better than Sam did, but you fail to beat any of the other guys and rest at 6th place by the end.

“Still an improvement.” Danny comments as Sam approaches again with the bong, now freshly packed, settling snugly next to you. Your cheeks threaten to flush pink.

“All for you, mama.” He looks at you with his slightly-glazed high eyes and you can’t tell what emotion he’s portraying, but his words make you beam and accept the gift.

It’s at this point you remember you’re where he was originally sitting. “Oh sorry Sam did you want me to move? You were sitting here…”

He shakes his head and takes the controller back. “No don’t worry about it” He resumes his gaming position, in which his elbow now rests on your thigh due to lack of room. The skin touching his feels like it’s on fire and you take a moment to thank yourself for shaving in your shower this morning when the game starts and the controls cause his arm to move slightly.

You let yourself be mesmerized by the moment, pretending to just be interested in the race, before you remember the unsmoked weed in your lap. Packed with care, no less.

Eyeing the various smoke supplies on the table, you reach over for a lighter. As you lean forward, your torso envelops his elbow for a moment. When you realize it’s much too late and you’re receding with the lighter, pulling your chest off your thighs and Sam’s elbow.

Sam gives a light smirk. “You know I handed you a lighter.”

You give him a confused look, and then start looking around your immediate surroundings and find, in fact, a neon green Bic lighter on the couch’s armrest.

“Oh.”

The other boys let out a laugh as you let yourself flush this time. You must’ve been distracted by Sam’s close proximity and missed him setting down the lighter.

You decide to shake it off and take a nice rip from the bong. You breath it in and, without thinking, exhale straight ahead. The clouds of smoke immediately fog up the tv display leading to shouts of anguish and protest by the guys.

“Sorry! Sorry, I’ll breathe out over my shoulder.”

You take another puff and turn past sam as far behind as your back would allow without actually getting up, and pucker your lips to direct your exhale away from the tv. However, in trying to get it away from the tv, your exhale manages to hit the back of Sam’s neck, since his hair is tied up in a messy bun. His jaw clenches at the sensation and you don’t notice until he lets out a slight shiver.

“Oh shit, sorry Sammy.” You don’t wait for a reaction before you turn away, so you miss seeing Sammy bit his lip at the fleeting sensation.

Determined to be done disrupting the group by trying to smoke their weed, you finish the bowl with one last big puff, seeing Sam’s eyes flicker over to you for a split second, and set it down before fully getting on your knees on the couch and turning, resting your hand on Sammy’s shoulder and exhaling far behind the couch. You turn back around, starting to feel the effects, and slump back into the couch. You don’t realize immediately but you’re leaning a lot more into Sammy now than before you turned around.

The race ends and you look at Sammy quizzically. “12th place? You did worse?”

Sam raises an eyebrow, cheeks reddening ever-so-slightly. “What I think you mean to say is thank you so much Samuel for the delicious bowl you packed for me.” You laugh and swat at his side.

The twins share a look before getting up. “Alright” Josh stretches a bit before taking a few steps toward the door “I need a shower, be back in a bit.”

Jake starts walking too, “yeah and I have to… uh, go somewhere.” He follows hurriedly behind. You knit your brows in confusion watching the boys scurry out.

Moments later, Danny gets up too “I gotta go too, Josie needs a ride home from work. See you later guys!”

You and Sam wave him off. “Tell her I said hi!” You holler after him. He raises a hand in confirmation and is gone.

Suddenly it’s just you and Sam.

Sam leans back a moment and stretches out his arms, for a moment you’re afraid he’ll make up an excuse and leave too. Instead, he surprises you by saying “Well, if I knew we were about to be done playing I would’ve rolled us a joint instead of you a bowl.”

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.“Want me to return the favor? Here, put something on the tv.” Like he did, you don’t wait for a confirmation before getting up.

Instead of packing the bowl on the table, you decide to bring the grinder over and pack it while nestled up with Sammy.

When you approach the table again, Sam is looking furtively at the TV screen. Maybe a little too furtively. “Sammy, do you want your glasses? They’re right over here.”

Sam looks away from the tv and blinks a few times, realizing he was in fact squinting. You hand him his glasses and he takes them graciously.

You giggle for a moment as you plop back down against him. “No wonder you suck so bad at mario kart.” He shoves your head playfully and you smile to yourself, holding the bong between your legs while you pack.

By the time the bowl is ready, Sam has landed on That 70’s Show and you smile when you hear its characteristic intro guitar riff. “Sammy, you never miss. And for that you deserve a bowl”

You hand him the bong and he feigns disbelief dramatically. He hoists it like an award, “Wow I never knew I would be up for this honor, I’d like to thank the academy-“

“Oh shut up” you laugh and he breaks into a smile too.

“Tell me, did you lose the lighter again?” Your face falls slightly in realization and you look around the couch again while Sam laughs. “Y/N, as my mother would say, you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to you.”

You emerge with the green lighter and glare playfully at Sam. “Ha ha. Now take the bowl, mr comedian.”

You turn back over to the show while sam takes a long drag. However, you’re surprised when he turns toward you and blows the hot smoke onto your neck. You shudder and goosebumps begin to rise as you turn and look questioningly at Sam.

He’s smirking. “How do you like it?”

You shrug with a small smile, determined not to let him know the effect he was having. “Feels nice, to be honest.”

Sam raises an eyebrow and you watch him as he lines up for his next hit. “You know, your glasses really suit you. I don’t know why you don’t wear them more.”

Sam chuckles down the barrel of the bong. “Glasses aren’t rock and roll, Y/N” he takes his hit and you admire him as he does.

Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s the fact that you two are all alone, but you hear yourself saying “well, I think they make you look handsome.”

You immediately catch what you just said and look down sheepishly. So much for not letting him know the effect he has.Sam, on the other hand, holds onto his hit as he leans in to murmur smokily into your ear, “oh really? You think I look handsome?”

You turn to face him and through the filter of smoke he’s staring right down at you from mere inches away. You get lost in each other’s reddened eyes for a moment before gulping and answering, “I always think you look handsome, Sammy”

Sam tucks a hair behind your ear and closes the gap between the two of you for a slow, tender kiss. It’s not overly heated, more lazy than anything considering the herbs you two just smoked, but it’s all the more meaningful as it’s been building up over the last couple months. Sam’s lips are softer than you’d expected and you find your hand reaching up to cup his cheek.

The two of you pull back and you rub your thumb affectionately against Sam’s cheekbone. His eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that.”

You smile a bit and respond, “Me too.” Sam opens his eyes again and gives you another shorter kiss before pulling you all the way against him with his left arm wrapped around you and his right hand resting on your thigh. You lean into his shoulder and the two of you watch a few more minutes of the episode before hearing the garage door open again.

You look up to see a rare sighting of a wet-haired Josh Kiszka looking at you two with wide eyes and a big smile. “I KNEW IT. Jake! You owe me $10!” And he runs back out.

You look down sheepishly as the two of you laugh. “Damn, was I that obvious?”

Sam shakes his head. “More like I was that obvious. They know I’ve been into you for a while, they just always thought I would blow it.” You turn to face him again, still mere inches apart. He bites his lower lip as he looks down at you.

“Did I?”

You smile and shake your head, “You absolutely did not blow it, Sam Kiszka.”

He grins and pulls you in for another sweet kiss.

#AAAAAAWWWWWWW #Sam Kiszka x Reader #sammy kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x y/n #sammy kiszka x y/n #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #danny wagner #gvf imagine #gvf fluff #blow

397 notes · View notes

hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Hello?

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Black!Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Request: N/A

Summary: Neville and (Y/n) get high together often.

Warnings: drugs( weed lmao), swearing, making out

A/N: This was based on the specific lyric below from Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. Pothead confident Neville is my favorite headcanon dfregfefe. I also felt like writing for Neville bc after reading a lot of @lxngbottom‘s fics I was DEEPLY inspired.

“Are you into me, like I'm into you?

Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?

You're so close, and yet so far

I wonder how you look when you're in the dark”

The Weasley siblings all found themselves in absolute bliss when their parents told them they were going on a getaway. Apparently Arthur had learned about muggle spas and thought it’d be a lovely idea to take his wife to one for a much needed vacation after many years she had been caring for her children (and sometimes their guess) without barely any breaks. The gaggle of gingers all found it to be quite a wonderful idea too, but for other reasons. Although they had varying reasons of why they were excited for their parents to leave the house, Ron’s being wanting to invite over the other ⅔ members of the Golden Trio, Ginny wanting to wear that skirt that her mum always told her was ‘just a tad too short, dear’, and lastly Fred & George wanting to try out new and exciting inventions there was that one thing that tied them all together: wanting to get blazed out of their fucking minds.

However, as quickly as that mischievous glint formed in all their eyes, their mother said something they all dreaded.

“Oh and by the way, we’re leaving Percy in charge!”

A collective groan was shared as the boy in question held a proud and cocky smirk that once again, he was the most trusted out of his siblings. However as per usual, Fred and George were not giving up that easily.

“What are we going to do?! You know Percy will rat on us!” Ron whispered yelled at the other three through gritted teeth. They all sat around the quaint little living room, distressed at what to do. Ron had already sent a text (is that what they were called? He wasn’t used to the muggle technology (Y/n) had got them all to use) to both Hermione and Harry telling them to pack their bags. He’d never live it down!

“Oh relax dear brother of mine! Me and Freddie here suspected something like this would happen so we came prepared. Right Fred?” George said with a smirk as he looked to his twin to the right of him. George nodded before pulling out an envelope.

“Exhibit A also known as ‘Blackmail dear Percival Into Leaving the House for the Summer.” he grin grew wider as he opened the envelope pulling out the photos. In the photos, Percy was shirtless during a party in the gryffindor common room. He had a half drunk bottle of fire whiskey in one hand and a blunt in his other which was held to his lips. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if dear ol’ mum and pop anonymously got pictures of their golden boy doing such awful acts?” he cooed, feigning a voice of disappointment.

“While you two idiots may not be helpful for jack shit else, leave it up to you to have a plan to get into trouble.” Ginny said rolling her eyes, a small smile forming on her face. “Well I guess that’s settled then. I’ll hit up (Y/n), Ron you hit up Nev and tell him to bring the loud. Lots of it too!”

-------------------------------------

That’s how they all ended up where they are currently. ‘Exhibit A’ was more than enough to get Percy packing his bags and leaving for a friends house after their parents had left. And of course, Hermione, Harry, (Y/n), and Neville had all shown up at the Burrow bright and as happy as ever.

Although many people dealt around Hogwarts, Neville’s weed was always the best. He grew custom strains which were infused with other magical plants that had all sorts of properties. You wanted it to taste and smell like cheesecake? Done. Something odorless that packed a mean punch? Also done. He took good care of his product and went through the precautions to make sure it was not only safe but also that he didn’t get caught. He wasn’t always an avid weed smoker though. Originally, a friend had suggested it to him to help with his anxiety which had increased over the years but eventually it became less of an anxiety reducer and more of a favorite pastime. And hell, it left him with a pretty fucking nice amount of galleons in his pocket. It was also how he had met her.

He looked up at her form as she sat across the shed, looking as radiant as ever. She was laughing at something but he didn't know what over the sound of the music. One of his favorite things about her was how beautiful the whiteness of her smile was in comparison to her rich brown skin. It drove him absolutely nuts. It had only been a few weeks since he last saw her but as usual there was something new about her appearance.

He let his eyes wander over the work of art that was (Y/n). Her hair was different, her usual shoulder length black box braids had been swapped our for a beautiful set of honey blonde faux locs that stopped at her waist. In addition to her septum, she now had a nose ring on the left side of her nose and- was that a smiley piercing? Her skin was glowing vibrantly under the different hues of gold of LED lights that corresponded with the music. His eyes shifted down to her chest. 'Hm, she finally got the other one pierced' he noted due to the fact that her crochet bikini top left only the best bits of her breast to the imagination. And then he got to his favorite part. Her legs. Her supple, plush, smooth as glass legs. This wasn’t the first time he had stared at them longer than needed. He couldn’t help it, they were so fucking thick. And, were those his shorts? She must've stolen them from him last smoke sesh. He didn't mind though, she pulled off those denim shorts well and they hugged her in all the right fucking places.

“Bloody hell Nev, what’s taking you so long to roll the joint? Are you already that gone?” Ron groaned as he threw his head back. Neville looked down at the half rolled blunt in his hands, continuing to lick and roll it skillfully.

“Shut up Ron, just hit the fucking bong and leave Neville alone. Ol’ dramatic ass.” there was that honeysuckle voice he loved. God he could listen to her talk for fucking hours. I mean he had before. Her voice was sweet in the center and rough around the edges, a thick american accent still prominent in her voice. He smiled at that, looking up at her to find her already looking at him. As he continued to roll, he licked a fat strip on the wrap before shooting her a wink.

“Thank you, petal.” he murmured quietly knowing she hadn’t heard as he looked back down at his hands finishing up. He grabbed the same lighter that he carried with him everywhere before lighting the end. As he was about to take a hit, a certain pair of gloss coated lips leaned over his shoulders taking a hit as she wrapped her arms around his upper half.

Ron groaned again in irritation. “I hate it when you get the first hit! You always leave that damn sticky shit all over the blunt.” as he glared at the girl. She giggled before crawling off the wraparound couch taking her place next to brunette ruffling his long shaggy hair. He had been growing it out recently for no particular reason (definitely not the girl to his right).

“Ron you always buggin on something, nigga shut the fuck up! That’s why when you hit the blunt you leave it wet. Ol’ soppy mouth nigga I swear to god. Share with Mione.” she retorted as she leaned into Neville’s side looking up at him. He smiled down at her before wrapping his arm around her bringing her impossibly close. They both loved each other's touch when they were high. Whenever he’d touch her in one spot, (Y/n) always felt it in another- especially between her legs. She leaned up, kissing his freckled cheek with a smile. “Hey sir, how’s my favorite doing today?” she questioned as he bent down, placing a kiss right below her ear.

“You know I’m always content when you’re next to me, flower. You don’t even have to question it.” he whispered in her ear before pulling back. She felt her face heat up as she rolled her eyes shoving him lightly. She crawled in his lap, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He instinctively moved one to her waist, stroking the smooth exposed sepia skin that was there for his enjoyment.

“You always talking some mess, Nev. Why don’t you do something bout it?” she said, motioning for him to hold the blunt up to her lips. He ignored her, looking into her eyes as he took a fat rip. He removed his hand from her waist, gripping her cheeks with it, rings digging into her skin. He leaned impossibly close as he shot gunned the smoke into her mouth. His lips hovered impossibly close to hers. ‘Finally’ she found herself thinking as she closed her eyes. However, the feeling of his soft pink lips never hit hers and she opened her eyes to find him smirking at her.

“And ruin this little game we have? Never.” He said, finally passing the blunt to her. If he had to be honest with himself, he was scared shitless. He was afraid if he actually did make that final move, jumped that final obstacle that she would be gone from his life. Sure, they made out all the time. It was normal for the two of them to get quite handsy with each other during smoke sessions but he found not even that being enough. He didn’t just wanna have his hands on her when he was high or wasted out of his fucking mind, he wanted her all the time. He wanted to sneak into each other's dorms and cuddle till wee hours of the morning. To carry her things to class for her. He wanted to live, breathe, and sleep (Y/n). But, is that what she wanted? He never knew.

She sighed softly to herself, contemplating. It was very apparent to her that Neville wanted her just as badly as he wanted her. So, why had he never jumped the gun? Did he not want more? Was he really content with this little cat and mouse game they had? He couldn’t be, she knew who he was at heart which was a romantic just as she was. She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard the familiar beat of Hello? by Clairo ft Reji Snow. She smirked at him, leaning her forehead against his as she began to grind softly on his lap.

“Are you into me? Like I’m into you. Do you wanna do the things I wanna do with you?” she sung to him softly, her (e/c) eyes meeting his hazel ones. He moved his hands up and down her body as she continued to grind her hips down on his. He let his hands travel to her ass, gripping it firmly. She leaned back slightly as she hit the blunt before returning the favor he had earlier. “You’re so close, and yet so far. I wonder how you look when you’re in the dark.” (Y/n) continued singing as kissed up his neck, nibbling at the junction of his jaw and neck. He took one of the hands from her ass, moving some of the locs that had fallen into her face. He quickly tossed the blunt out of her hand into the ashtray in the table in front of them before leaning in and kissing her with such strong intensity.

The honey blonde haired girl moaned softly, already putty in the boy’s hands. Neville always knew exactly what to do with his hands. Where to kiss, where to tug, where to bite. Anything but actually dealing with the problem between her legs. She tangled her hands into the back of his hair, matching his lip movement. As he continued holding her ass with one hand, he used his other to stroke her cheek gently. A stark contrast to the kiss they were in which was wet, rough, and fast. He trailed his tongue over her lip which she gladly accepted. Their tongues danced together lazily as sweat began to build up on both of them. She pulled away partly, a trail of spit connecting them.

“Take this dumb ass jacket off. It’s the middle of July.” She grumbled as she began to unzip it, leaving him in some muggle band shirt she had gotten him one year from the states. She leaned back in, continuing to move her hips to the beat of the song. Neville began to move his hips up to match her movements. “Oh? So you got moves now huh? Who taught you those?”

“Don’t play dumb petal, you know you did.” He responded before gripping at her neck with his ringed hand. She gasped softly, looking into his blood shot blown out eyes. The music, the lighting, his touch? It was all much too much to handle. Her senses were overloaded by pleasure, the jane in her system. He tightened his hand some, leaning in closer. “You’re driving me absolutely mad, darling. Do you know that? I’d do anything you asked me to.” the movement of her hips had stilled but he kept going. She could feel the imprint of his member through his pants. Suddenly it was the only thing (Y/n) could focus on.

“Them Ravenclaw girls weren’t lying then, huh? You packin like that Nev?” she said suddenly. She knew he had asked her something a second ago, but the weed was really starting to hit. Her brain was foggy and hazed, the only thing she could think about now was him. She took one of her manicured hands, trailing it down his shirt till she reached his crotch. She gripped it in her hands, eyes widening slightly. He chuckled softly, catching her attention.

“Don’t act so surprised. You know I used to get around quite a bit.” He said, moving so his tent was resting against her inner thigh.

“Used to?” she questioned, laying her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed. She took in his scent sighing softly. Neville always smelled like a mix of lavenders, cologne, and that loud. She knew it from anywhere, especially when she smelled it in the amortentia they brewed during potions that one time.

“Yeah I don’t really pipe girls like I used to.” He moved his hands up, embracing her close as he kissed the top of her head. “Ever since a certain pesky little American girl started making their way into my life, she’s all I could think about.” she rolled her eyes some, punching him on the arm as he began to laugh.

“Don’t fuck around like that, that shit aint even funny.” she grumbled, pouting as she crossed her arms. “I thought you had an actual answer!”

“On god that was my actual answer, (Y/n)! You asked why and I told you why. Absolutely anyone could tell I’m mad for you.” Neville said as he uncrossed her arms, holding her small delicate hands in his large ones. He intertwined their hands, her sharp acrylic nails digging into his hands slightly. “Did you know when Keaton Willis asked you to Hogsmeade, I was so mad that I wouldn’t sell to him for 3 months?!”

“But I didn’t even go with him! Me and you went together to go get ice cream, remember?”

“So?! He still fucking asked you. I’m getting heated just thinkin’ about it.” He mumbled as he looked away from her. He pulled her closer, resting his head on the top of hers. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you dating such a loser. He’s not even a good guy and he’s always fucking short with his galleons when he buys. I have to practically hound the guy for my money. Yknow what? Fuck it.” he looked up at the brown skinned girl before holding her face in both his hands. He took in her features. Her plump lips, edges laid to perfection, face ‘beat to the gods’ as she would say. “Go out with me. Be my girl, petal. I can’t bear you not being mine for another second.” he said. She pretended to ponder for a bit before she looked back at him.

“Depends, will I get free weed? I expect free weed from dating the weed man, you know.” she said with a giggle. He rolled his eyes shaking his head.

“You already get free weed! Don’t pretend you don’t.” he said loudly, catching the others’ attention.

“What? Nev that’s not fair! You always make me pay and we’re mates! What happened to bros befo-”

“Ron you finish that and you ain’t leavin this shed with an eye, I can promise you that boy.” she whipped her head around quickly, glaring at the boy. Ron quickly shut his mouth knowing first hand that her promises were never empty. He gulped slightly before nodding, turning back to Hermione who handed him the bong muttering something about how he looked like he needed it.

“But to answer your question, Nev baby, I’d love to be your girl. Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than doing so.” (Y/n) leaned forward, leaving a lip gloss print on his cheek.

“Well I’m glad you said yes because it would’ve been very awkward explaining to everyone tomorrow where that hickey on your neck came from.”

“Nev!”

#black reader #black!reader #poc reader #poc!reader #Neville Longbottom #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x you #neville x you #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #Harry Potter

156 notes · View notes

creepling · 3 years

Text

pineapple express (irl!quackity x gn!reader)

request: just a quick side note - love your writing! if you’re comfortable with it and it doesn’t cross any boundaries could you do a getting high with quackity for a gn! reader? tyty. (anon)

a/n: I DO NOT SUPPORT THE USE OF DRUGS OK. i just thought this was a very fun ask. do not take drugs underage and if you do take drugs, please do so responsibly. don’t end up being a f*ck-up like me lmao. also i’m sorry this is so short, i have been so busy with uni work and i am doing this while i have a night off. hopefully sometime after 4th may i will be writing for frequently.

pairing: irl!quackity x gn!reader (platonic)

summary: the reader has been having a stressful week and alex has the perfect remedy to make them loosen up. and of course, how could the reader deny spending time with their smoking buddy? (inspired by this hilarious clip of paul rudd and jason segel high during an interview.)

tw: use of drugs (cannabis), intoxication, cursing.

Thank God, it was finally the weekend. I finished all my duties for Friday and I could finally anticipate personal time to myself. I expected to just drive home and become vegitated from exhaustion and stress up until the next week, until I received a text.

Alex: I got some stuff today, smoke buddy. Wanna come over and hang out?

A smile immediately came to my face. I texted back in approvement and prepered myself for arrival; quickly heading back home to change into fresh clothes and fix myself up. I brought my rolling kit in case Alex was on short supply and made my way to my best friend’s house.

“Hola Amigo!” Alex swung the door open the minute I rang the doorbell; his voice exaggerated and welcoming. I engulfed him in my usual hug as my way of entering his apartment. Routinely, I dropped my backpack into the living room and idly chucked my jacket over the couch. I could already inspect the event that was coming; Alex had a ton of shit. Normally Alex counted on me to roll the perfect joint, but when I became too high to do so, he always had emergency cone joints and even a fuck-off bong for special occasions.

“So are we cranking up the hot water and smoking in the bathroom or in here?” I asked for reasurrence, gesturing around the living room.

“Nah, it’s just me and you today. Even the neighbours are out of town.” Alex said, taking a B-turn to his usual spot of the couch. “Have you rolled anything yet?”

“Sorry, didn’t have time. Pretty hectic day.” I apologised, sinking next to him on the couch and running a hand stressfully through my hair. “I’ll quickly do one now. Want your own?”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You’re a busy-bee.” Alex said understandingly. “Oh and- Yes please.”

I soon got to work, taking my papers and grinder out of my pocket. Alex insisted in dealing with the grinder, putting the buds into the container and got to twisting. At this point, we were a couple of stoners. We never expected to be smoking buddies until I realised that out of all my mutual friends, Alex was the only person that had the same tolerance as me. I could never vibe with anxious high people, since they made me anxious myself. I had fun when I smoked; I giggled profusely and the most aburd theories would pour out of my mouth. Sure, I also got the munchies, but not as bad as Alex. One time Alex ate six packets of hot-flaming cheetos to the point his mouth was on fire. He was so high and flustered from the spice he throught he was breathing out fire. However, that experience does not beat the time I thought his cat was floating in mid air. In conclusion, me and Alex had the funniest experiences when under the influence.

After a few intricate minutes of rolling, I succeedingly rolled two joints. Alex liked his thick at the beginning but thin at the end, and I preferred a medium gurth all throughout. Alex admired my creation, muttering a ‘wow’ and praised my efforts, then took a lighter out of his pocket.

We said our cheers and began to blaze up. Leaning my head back on the couch, I stared at the ceiling as I took slow draws, engulfing the smoke deep into my lungs before deeply exhaling. Alex at this point began to play a playlist (that we specifically created for being stoned) and took his first inhale. He always coughed at the first inhale before slowly easing into his usual rhythm. When my joint was halfway, I began to feel my body outlining with a buzzing sensation. My teeth felt isolated from my gums and the ends of my limbs felt invisible. Our combined exhaled smoke began to intermingle, everytime I took a breath it entered back into my lungs. The sound of Alex’s chuckles flowed into my fuzzy ears and as if almost contagious, I became to chuckle as well.

“That’s some strong stuff.” I commented, my eyes beaming at the ceiling before my eyelids began to grow heavy. Alex hummed in agreement, taking the last straw of his joint before smothering the brown-stained tip into his ashtray. The ashtray was one of those clay creations that had the eyes and mouth on them. I gave him it as a gift for his birthday.

An hour went by and at this point, Alex and I powered through another joint. We mobilised ourselves onto the floor as we lay on large pillows and blankets; a nook that Alex made up before my arrival. We laughed at the most mundane shit and lay on our backs, our heads closely together as we stared at the ceiling.

“Have you ever had a best friend?” Alex asked in a stoned haze.

“I mean . . . you’re kinda my best friend.” I admitted, a sentence that would probably not leave my mouth if I was sober due to hesitation.

“Really? That is so sweet.” Alex said, his tone of voice so idle it was borderline adorable.

“Am I your best friend?” I asked, my eyes glancing over to him anticipating a response.

“You know this, (Y/N). I have had the same best friend since I was twelve years old . . . and he is imaginary.”

“Oh my fucking God . . . Not Pablo.” I cringed, squeezing my bloodshot eyes closed. The amount of times Alex has talked about his childhood imaginary friend while high is annoyingly been multiple times. At this point, I don’t know if he was joking or being serious. Or just completely and utterly stoned.

“He’s fucking amazing, (Y/N)! I’m not fucking kidding!” Alex exclaimed, looking at me in shock but also trying to hold back a laugh.

“Oh yeah sorry . . . I didn’t mean to offend Pablo.” I said sarcastically, “Pablo who visits you in your dreams!”

Alex howled at my words and laughed from his chest, clenching his ribs from the pain. A laugh also escaped my throat harshly and I coughed from the suddenness, slamming my hand into a pillow as I was paralyzed from the hilariousity.

“Oh my God . . . I’m literally sweating” Alex mustered out in between wheezes. He was bent double on the floor, still clenching at his ribs. The sight of him made me chuckle even when my laughter became to calm down.

“Then take off your hat, silly!” I said, noticing the beams of sweat that formed on his temple.

“You jerk! I can’t take off my hat.” Alex exclaimed, his fingers clenching onto the hem of his beanie as if he thought I was going to yank it off him. “It’s a mental compulsion!”

“A mental compulsion?” I emphasised in confusion, his random reasoning retracting me back into a fit of laughter. “Why’s that? Will Pablo come and kill us all if you take it off? Is that why you have been wearing one for all these years?”

Alex at this point laughed so hard at my joke, I was convinced he stopped breathing. When his body allowed him to exhale, he let out the loudest cackle I have ever heard come out his mouth. It even beats the ones he makes on streams. His sudden burst of laughter made we want to make him laugh even more.

“Don’t take off the magic hat, Alex! Otherwise Pablo will come visit you!” I mocked a spooky voice as I sat up from the floor and began to tickle Alex into submission. Alex squirmed, his red eyes now pouring with positive tears. His belly laughs continued as I physically taunted him in a joking manner.

“I’m sorry Pablo, I’m sorry! Please don’t hurt me!” Alex jokingly pleaded, his voice becoming so high-pitched that his vocal chords let out a squeak. I flopped back onto the pillows in laughter as we were squirming like idiots for several minutes. Once our jester behaviour came to a close, our laughters died out and we lay exhausted on the floor. The music from the speakers now dominated the sound in the room. Alex breathed heavily next to me trying to catch his breath. It was moments like this were I felt the least anxious, were I could just let go and not worry about the world. It felt absolutely bliss.

TAGLIST ! / @momo-has-a-gun @diggorysmalfoy @quack42069 @obsidiyan (join my taglist!)

#quackity x reader #irl!quackity x reader #quackity x you #quackity x y/n #gender neutral reader #quackity x gn!reader #quackity imagine #quackity fanfic #mcyt fanfic #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #youtuber imagine #quackity fluff #platonic quackity x reader #stoner!quackity #quackity one-shot

124 notes · View notes

fleetwoodmak99 · 3 years

Text

Getting High with Eric Draven Headcanons

Alright so I know this one might not be in popular demand because there are so many different opinions on weed but from personal experience I have never had any issue with it. In fact, it actually really helps calm me down. That doesn’t mean that weed is for everyone. Plus I feel like Eric would be a fun smoking partner and its the 90′s so why not.

WARNING: (18+) Smoking, Marijuana (If you are using this, please be safe and responsible), mentions of smut.

Pre-Death Eric

Pre-death Eric would definitely be a stoner and for years too. He started when he a lot younger than he probably should have been. Kind of just diving into it to get through the life of a young adult.

When he meet you and saw that you too were a stoner than he knew he would be hooked on you.

Oh course he was a little concerned when he see’s you can out smoke him. It hurt his pride a little bit but it was insanely hot, he had to admit.

As your relationship bloomed, the two of you would have smoke sessions together more and more. Eventually, when he asked you to move in with you, he would want to be doing it almost every night.

Naturally, he would respect you if you needed a break from it. Completely understanding when you would get upset and agitated from not having anything in your system for a period of time.

But when the two of you smoked together, boy oh boy was it a ride.

Eric’s favorite thing to smoke from would probably be joints but only could do so outside. Its quick to roll and small to carry around but it stunk really bad.

So when you two are relaxing at home after a long day, he prefers to smoke from the bong. It was powerful and easier to control where to smoke went but it was large and a pain to keep hidden.

Either way, Eric loved it when the two of you would have your special smoke time.

When Eric is actually high, it is hilarious. You swear, he should take up a job as a stand up comedian because he always has something sassy and raunchy to say.

Biggest thing to remember about Eric is he WILL get the munchies. So its important to remember to buy way too much food at the grocery store in order to keep up with the boys eating habits.

Eric would definitely be more lazy than paranoid. Which is good because sometime you can become overly suspicious of everything when you smoke too much.

He would sometimes just want to watch tv or work on his music. He would get too involved in whatever his was doing, almost ignoring everything else.

Eric would be so clingy. Like this boy would literally latch himself onto you and refusing to let you go. You could fight all you want but you always ended up wrapped around each other.

The clinginess would turn into him being insanely turned on and probably wanting to fool around. He would be more tender with you, not wanting to overbear you with anything, especially if you continue to take hits of stuff the whole time.

If you wanted to make love, then he would be the most admiring and giving lover you would ever have. If you wanted him to fuck you, then be prepared to feel it the next morning.

Basically, Eric loves to smoke and smoking with you is his favorite thing in the world to do.

Post-Death Eric

Post-death Eric is a different story. His views on the drug would still relatively be the same but he would see it differently.

Definitely would be more cautious on when he’s high and who he’s high around. Only really being comfortable smoking with you. Not liking feeling impaired as much as he used to.

Eric wouldn’t even want to smoke alone. He would get too paranoid about the tragedy he had experienced and be terrified of it somehow happening to you. Not that it would because he is always with you to make sure it won’t.

He would probably encourage you to take more breaks. Worried you would get sick or how it would effect your body in the long run. He sees things differently now about health after being dead and knowing what’s on the other side.

Eric would push the idea of eating edibles instead of smoking. It gave you more of a high and you wouldn’t be destroying your lungs everyday.

Eric would be troubled when he sees you coughing so much every time you took a hit. Sometime you would gag, even throwing up one time because you would cough so hard.

One thing he began to enjoy was just listening to music with you after a smoke session. After that high crept in and he started to listen to that sweet sweet music, he couldn’t help but get up and dance. Mostly likely asking you to join him.

He’s a really good listener when he’s high. You always were amazed by the way he would explain things to you on an intellectual level without getting upset or defensive.

Also he started cooking more. He said he wanted to expand his cooking pallet and sometimes being high inspired him to try new things.

Speaking of which, he loves experimenting in bed with you when he’s high. It just makes it a whole new experience for the both of you. One better than he could ever imagine.

But smoking for post-death Eric isn’t a constant thing so only expect him to only smoke with you. Its your guys special time and he will forever cherish those moments he has with you.

#eric draven #eric draven x reader #eric draven smut #the crow film #the crow 1994 #the crow imagine #the crow #the crow movie

211 notes · View notes

tryingmyves · 3 years

Text

Sober

Denki Kaminari x Y/N

A/N: A fic inspired by Wish You Were Sober by Conan Gray (I swear they put crack in this song). You’ve been in love with Denki Kaminari for as long as you can remember and he only seems to think of you as more than a friend when he’s inebriated. Simple, right?

C/W: Alcohol mention, weed mention, smut (eventually), angst

chapter fic, part one, college!au kinda

image source

Some Eminem song is blaring so loud in the background it’s hard keeping anything other than how much you want to go home in the forefront of your mind. You’re sunken into the world’s lumpiest sofa, which may have been beige at one point but it’s so covered in stains that it’s hard to be sure. You’re in the middle of determining whether the dried, greenish splotch near your left thigh was made from liquor or vomit when Jiro elbows you in the arm.

She offers you a bong covered in an eye motif, “Are you getting in on this?”

The physical contact pulls you from your very pressing investigation of couch stains. “Huh?” you yell over the music. You look down and see the bong and answer her without waiting for her to repeat herself.

“Uh, nah. I’m the DD tonight,” you explain loudly, leaning in to her so she can hear.

Jiro doesn’t pressure you to change your mind, just nods and reaches her arm across you, handing the bong over to Sero.

“I need the lighter too,” Sero calls to Jiro, one hand still extended towards her.

“No way, sticky fingers!” she answers, slapping his hand away, “You still owe me like six lighters. They always end up in your pockets and then I’m shit out of luck.”

Sero starts to whine about how it’s always an accident until Tokoyami tosses his lighter to him. He quickly positions the bong in his lap and lights the bowl, only flicking off the lighter and removing it after inhaling his entire lung capacity. You watch the milky smoke disappear from behind the glass and into Sero’s mouth. He gives the group a doofy, toothless grin before finally exhaling through his nose. He hands the bong to his right and makes a show of returning Tokoyami’s lighter to him. Jiro only rolls her eyes and repositions herself on the couch, claiming the vacant space you leave as you stand up, announcing you’re going to the kitchen.

As you weave away from the couch and through the crowd of sweaty bodies dancing in the living room, you hear Kendo yelling at you about bringing chips when you come back. You register the request, but don’t bother telling her you aren’t planning on rejoining their smoke sesh. The kitchen is a little quieter than the living room, the music muffled slightly by a few layers of drywall and paint. The island in the center of the room is a mess, littered with near-empty pizza boxes, spilled chip bags, and empty beer cans. You’re unsure if there’s a single clean cup in the entire house at the moment, so you help yourself to a bottle of water from the fridge. You might have hid out in here for a while if it weren’t for Ojiro and presumably Hagakure swapping spit in one corner of the room. Either that, or Ojiro was rehearsing a very sensual mime bit. You leave the room quickly, neither seeming to notice your presence to begin with.

You pass the dining room on your way to the backyard and see it’s been converted into a beer pong arena for the time being. You also catch a glimpse of Kaminari, who dragged you to this stupid party, extending the ping pong ball held between his thumb and his index finger towards some blonde, second year girl whose name you don’t know. She raises her eyes to his and gazes through the curtain of her lashes before blowing air on the ball through lip gloss covered lips. You shake your head to yourself and consider abandoning your DD responsibilities in favor of the high Jiro offered and a couple shots of Barton’s. But despite these thoughts, your legs carry you forward to the patio door, but not before you hear Kaminari gloat about how his partner just “blew” him in front of everyone. A symphony of groans, laughs, and a few shouts of “get it, bro!” serve as the soundtrack to your exit.

The chill of the November air stings your face, but it’s a nice contradiction to the sticky heat of the frat house behind you. You twist open the cap of your water bottle and take a small sip, making your way to a decrepit looking folding chair you were willing to take a chance on. You sit in the relative silence, disregarding the muffled sounds of the party coming over your shoulder. A sigh leaves your lips when you check your phone and see it’s only 12:07 AM. If you were lucky, you’d be able to get Kaminari home and make it back to your dorm before 1 AM.

This was the last party of the semester as UA University was officially out for winter break until the new year. You and Kaminari planned to carpool home tomorrow since you had to be out of your dorm by noon and you’d undoubtedly have to return his Rover to him in the morning. Plus, you weren’t positive that the cheap hunk of scrap you bought for college would make it all the way home. You had already done all of your packing for the holiday, so you didn’t worry about the late night. Instead, your mind drifts to the stupid blond inside, less than 300 feet away from you. You’ve been in love with him since you figured out what love was, but for some cosmically farcical reason when he mentioned he’d always wonder what you were like in bed four months ago, you offered to show him.

36 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Everybody Knows You're High, 1/4 (Rajila) - Dartmouth420

“I found myself all alone in the grocery store, more stoned than I think I’ve ever been before.”

Summary: Raja smokes way too much weed and develops horrifying self-awareness, Manila’s there to rescue her but takes none of her bullshit. Maybe, just maybe, they fall in love. A lesbian college AU friends-to-idiots-to-lovers tale based on the song Everybody Knows by Partner. Loosely inspired by Off Limits by V&albatross but like wayyyy dumber :)

A/N: my computer died and I’m in the process of getting all my files back so I wrote this mostly in the notes app on my phone to cope lmao

tw: weed induced anxiety & paranoia

It was a wonderful Sunday afternoon and Raja had been taking massive bong rips for the past two hours because why the hell not.

She sat in a sunbeam on her couch in the living room, deeply at peace with the world. Her roommates were out, and Raja was supposed to be working on a paper for her philosophy class that was due this week. But whatever, wasn’t a big part of college about having fun?

Raja glanced over at her Nintendo controller and stared at it for a good minute before reaching for it and selecting Super Smash Bros. After several minutes of staring glassy-eyed at the screen and trying to beat the computer generated competition, Raja blindly reached over for the bag of chips that usually rested in the corner of the couch and found… it was gone.

Raja paused the game and glared at the corner of the couch, suddenly really hungry.

She got up and went to the kitchen, digging around in the cupboards, reasoning she could always pay Delta or Carmen back for chips if they had some… but to no avail. If Raja wanted chips, she’d have to leave the house.

But that wasn’t such a big deal, the grocery store was a block down the street which was part of the reason they’d picked this house in the first place. Raja knew the route like the back of her tattooed left hand.

So, Raja took another big hit off her bong for courage, enjoying the satisfying bubbles in the dank bong water and subsequent thick smoke that went deep into her lungs.

Then she left the house, lazy in loose shorts and a crop top, yellow-tinted sunglasses to take the glare off the sunny afternoon, and her wallet reliably in her back pocket. What a beautiful day, it almost felt like a movie as she wandered down the street in the golden afternoon light. The clouds were small, fluffy and perfect. It just like how Raja imagined the 90s.

Glancing up at the big three-pane window in the house a few doors down across the street, Raja wondered if anyone was home. A few other students lived there, including Manila, who was one of her close friends. Raja decided not to stop and kept walking, the need for chips overpowering the desire to stop by and visit Manila.

At the grocery store Raja smiled to herself, took a plastic basket and wandered gently down the brightly lit aisles. Mmm, food. She got to the chips aisle and put a couple of different bags in her basket, letting elderly people and families and other folks pass her as she moved slowly. Then Raja decided she might, in fact, want ice cream too and moseyed over to the dairy section.

But as the cool air of the diary aisle hit her Raja began to experience doubt. She didn’t smell like weed, did she? Her mouth still tasted a little smoky, but surely it wouldn’t be a problem…

… and suddenly Raja saw somebody behind the glass in the big wall of fridges, blending in to the little cartons of whipping cream. Who the hell was that?

Raja peered closer, curious about the weird gremlin that lived in the fridge only to realize, with absolute horror, that it was her own reflection.

Long, greasy black hair, a slack expression, yellow tinted sunglasses through which her bloodshot and lined eyes were clearly visible. A twenty-year-old mess.

Clearly and distinctly, a voice inside Raja’s head said, Everybody knows you’re high.

Shit.

Raja looked around slowly, and inched into the corner at the end of the aisle between the shredded cheese and a big granola bar display. Her breath grew shallow as the sudden anxiety swallowed her whole. Oh god, oh no, everybody could tell-

What the fuck was she supposed to do now?

Raja gulped, completely glued to the spot as she watched the other shoppers go by. She needed a rescue mission. She took out her phone, holding on to the basket of chips for dear life.

Raja stared at her phone. Delta and Carmen were both out today and too far away, Shangela was mad at her, Raven was out of the question, who else, who else lived nearby…

Raja hit call.

“Hello?” came Manila’s voice, a little out of breath.

“Manila,” whispered Raja, shrinking further into the corner between the display and the glass fridge, as she realized that everyone in the store knew she was high and could probably also hear her conversation, “I need you to come pick me up.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“I’m like… super high,” whispered Raja, anxiety spiking as her too-slow body fought her too-fast mind, “I’m at the grocery store and everybody knows and I’m trapped in the diary aisle and I can’t move.”

“What?” laughed Manila, “Oh my god, how much weed did you smoke?”

“I dunno, I did like… thirteen bong hits,” whispered Raja pathetically, “I needed chips.”

“You are so stupid,” said Manila with affectionate exasperation, “I’m out for a run, I’m just around the corner. I’ll come get you.”

Raja whispered a thank you and hung up and took a deep breath and stared at the floor. The floor was moving a little bit not too badly. Maybe she could just walk down the dairy aisle and people wouldn’t be able to tell how high she was- but no, everybody knew. Someone was probably calling the grocery store cops right now and Raja would go to stoner girl jail and she’d never get to tell Manila how much she liked her…

After what might have three minutes or possibly an hour, Raja looked up and saw Manila approaching from the end of the aisle. Raja breathed a sigh of relief, but found she still couldn’t move. Manila’s curly black hair was up in a high ponytail, her face glowed a little from her run, and her colourful leggings were really showing off her legs…

“Hi, bitch,” said Manila, stopping in front of Raja with a huge, teasing grin. “I can’t believe you did this to yourself. Come on.”

With that, Manila turned and motioned for Raja to follow, her but Raja couldn’t.

“Nnh-“ managed Raja, shaking her head. If she left the corner now-

“Raja,” said Manila, rolling her eyes. She reached out and took Raja’s loose hand, forcefully leading her down the aisle. Very shocked to suddenly be moving, Raja followed her passively, letting herself be led. But when they got to checkout Raja froze again, causing Manila to jerk to a stop. Raja shook her head frantically.

“Are you like actually having a panic attack or something?” asked Manila, concerned, looking carefully into Raja’s expression as Raja suddenly noticed a few loose curls that had come loose from her ponytail, sitting soft and almost weightless on Manila’s head-

“Nope, you’re just really high,” said Manila to herself, shaking her head, and then redirected her. “Self-checkout it is.”

They made it through the self-checkout and paid for the chips even though Raja really didn’t like the beeping machine and kept asking it to be quiet. And then finally Manila led her back outside into the sun. Raja breathed out a sigh of relief, glad to have escaped. They crossed the hot expanse of the parking lot and headed for home. It was rare that weed made her anxious and paranoid like that, but it did happen occasionally.

Manila let go of her hand and Raja immediately missed it, because Manila’s hand was warm and soft and fit nicely in hers. Hmm. Manila always showed up for her, reflected Raja vaguely, she was an exceptionally reliable force in a flakey world. Raja kept walking, gently swinging her plastic bag full of chips as her anxiety faded. Manila said something but Raja wasn’t really paying attention.

“Do you want to come over and play Nintendo?” asked Raja instead. “I’ve got Super Smash Bros.”

“That’s your response to what topic you’re doing for the paper for Professor O’Hara’s philosophy class?” laughed Manila.

“Uh, I’m working on it,” answered Raja, noticing the way the sun caught in Manila’s hair. Had she noticed these things about her before? They’d been friends for a while now, and Raja was pretty sure Manila liked girls too… or was at least willing to experiment. “I’m gonna write about Plato’s Symposium, probably.”

“Yeah, cool,” replied Manila, nodding so that her curly ponytail bounced, “I’ve got about six hundred words on The Republic so far.”

“Are you like dating Alexis?” asked Raja, changing the subject, “Or was that just a casual thing?”

“No,” said Manila, momentarily hesitating, “Well yeah, uh, it was unclear. But we ended it a little while ago, she’s with Yara now.”

“Right, I thought I saw them together. I didn’t realize you two were over.”

“Yeah I mean, you had your own drama going on…”

“Huh?” Raja couldn’t recall any drama in her own life. Raja liked to keep things really chill.

“Uh…” laughed Manila awkwardly, “You were dating Raven and then you broke up with her like super callously right in the middle of that party at Morgan’s and she screamed at you and then knocked that bottle of wine off the table and it broke and went everywhere and someone filmed it-“

“Oh yeah,” said Raja, shrugging and recalling the incident, “Well, she’s a very intense person. I don’t remember you being there, though?”

“I don’t know where you went but I was trying to help Morgan get the stain out of the carpet while she panicked about her damage deposit and Raven locked herself in the bathroom,” said Manila dryly.

“Well,” said Raja, and looked up at her house as the approached, blinking slowly, not sure if she had anything to add to that, “I guess I should apologize to her or whatever. But uh, you should come over anyway, all my roommates are out.”

“Okay, I’ll come up,” said Manila, poking Raja’s arm, “Just to make sure you drink some water and don’t green out on me.”

They went inside and Raja threw herself on to the couch on her side with a bag of chips in her arms, melting down into the cushions with a contented sigh. This was where she was meant to be.

Manila walked in to the kitchen and came back out with two glasses of water, sipping hers and handing the other to Raja.

“Ooh, thank you,” said Raja, half-sitting up to take the glass, and chugged the entire thing, only now noticing she was totally cotton-mouthed and thirsty. Finally hydrated, the munchies were hitting hard and she tore open the bag of chips.

Manila sat down on the couch, shoving Raja’s long legs out of the way.

“Mmm, salt,” commented Manila dryly, taking a handful of chips and shoving them into her mouth. Crunching happily, she wiped her hand on her thigh and asked, “So, where’s the controller?”

Raja pointed it out and Manila picked it up, cancelled out Raja’s long-abandoned game on the screen across from them, and returned to the main menu with a flick of her thumb on the mini joystick. She held the controller with an easy confidence, and it made Raja wonder what else Manila could do with with her hands and how exactly Alexis had benefitted from that…

“Are we gonna play two player or are you just watching?” asked Manila, turning towards her.

Raja considered everything for a moment: the beautiful golden sun streaming in the window, the glorious high she’d relaxed back into, the tasty chips, Manila’s truly beautiful ass that was just about touching Raja’s knee given the way they were positioned, and the fact that, well, Manila was really pretty and recently single and Raja had always preferred casual hookups or friends-with-benefits to relationships anyway, especially given the recent disaster- no, situation, with Raven…

“Do you wanna make out?” asked Raja instead, with what she hoped was a very seductive look.

Manila hesitated for a split second, then burst out laughing and said, “Uh, no?!”

“What, really?” complained Raja. She couldn’t recall the last time a girl had said no to that suggestion. Raven, Mariah, Alaska, Bianca, Shangela, Yvie, Courtney… they’d all been into it, even if just for an afternoon or a night.

“As if!” said Manila, affecting her voice like she was Cher Horowitz before she laughed again and shook her head. Manila leaned forward and flicked through the menus, selecting the single player option, then her character and the arena. With a satisfied little smirk on the side of her mouth, Manila added, “Ask me again when you’re not stoned out of your mind.”

The music played out and Raja sulked and ate her chips and watched Manila play without really seeing it. Being stoned and mildly horny was usually a really fun combination, except when the other person wasn’t interested. Which like never happened! Maybe she’d invite Manila to stay for dinner, let her high fade and they could hang out and maybe things would get interesting a little later in the evening…

“Uh, so,” said Raja again, after watching Manila repeatedly beat the computer generated competition as Pikachu. The screen was starting to hurt her eyes a bit and she put the bag of chips down, craving human contact. Their friendship was platonically affectionate and hopefully that would still be on the table today. “Can I braid your hair?”

“Has anybody ever told you how weird you are?” said Manila in response, jabbing the A-button as she kicked Luigi off the platform.

“People think I’m very cool…”

“Yeah, but that’s what you make them think. I can see right through it, though. You’re afraid of commitment, you’re kind of an anxious bitch and you use weed and the idea of being chill to cover all of that,” stated Manila, “But yeah, you can braid my hair.”

Raja decided to ignore the first part of what Manila had said and sat up, shuffling around behind her until she sat with her legs apart, Manila perched on the edge of the couch cushion between them as she bent forward with her elbows on her knees to play.

While Raja was mentally celebrating the perfect position for hair braiding she’d placed herself in, Manila aggressively jabbed at the controller and kicked the other players off the platform and won the round.

“Sweet,” said Manila, as the victory music played, reaching back and pulling the elastic band out of her ponytail to let her hair spill down her back. Happy and hazy, Raja carded her fingers through Manila’s hair as Manila loaded up another arena.

Manila continued, “Better hope Carmen isn’t mad that I’m beating all her high scores. I’m gonna unlock metallic Peach for her.”

Raja spent an indefinite period of time gently braiding Manila’s beautiful hair in a soothing repetitive pattern as her high slowly faded and Manila kicked ass at Super Smash Bros. Raja hadn’t ever really noticed Manila like this before. They were pretty good friends, and they’d always had a flirtatious undertone, and Manila went out of her way to hang out and even do favours for her… but Raja had always assumed she was just like, nice or whatever, but maybe it was something more that Raja simply hadn’t registered before. Playing with Manila’s hair wasn’t helping Raja feel any less horny, and there a low strum of sexual tension between them that Raja was sure Manila must be picking up on as well.

Suddenly the door opened and Raja looked up, dropping her hands. Delta was in the doorway, calling out a hello. Raja called back to her, vaguely shocked by the existence of other humans in the universe other than herself and Manila.

Manila paused the game and got up off the couch and touched the back of her head, feeling at the multitude of little braids in her hair.

“Ha, I must look a mess,” said Manila, then she stretched her arms over her head, grimacing as her back cracked and continued, “Well, you’re barely high anymore and Delta’s back, so I take it my work here is done. I have to finish that paper tonight, see ya.”

With that, Manila sauntered off towards the door, leaving Raja distinctly abandoned on the couch.

“Uh, bye?” called Raja sarcastically after her as Manila shut the door.

Delta gave her a strong side-eyed look.

“What?” asked Raja.

“Since when are you into Manila?” asked Delta bluntly, sitting down into the couch next to Raja. Delta was keenly observant and it was something Raja admired about her, except when she was on the receiving end of that power.

“Since like an hour ago?” replied Raja, and told her about the grocery store adventure.

Delta laughed and totally roasted her while Raja whined complaints.

“She said to ask again when I’m less stoned, so I’m gonna do that the next time we hang out,” said Raja, with complete faith that the idea would work without any problems whatsoever, “What were you out doing this afternoon anyway?”

“Fooling around with that chemistry major I told you about,” replied Delta smugly, poking Raja’s arm, “I can’t believe you got too high and let a cute girl get away on you, you’re losing your touch.”

“You’re a terrible roommate,” complained Raja, but her smile gave her away, “And she’s not just some cute girl, she’s our friend…”

“Sure, but that can all change real quick if you get intimate…”

“It won’t change anything, it’ll be totally casual,” said Raja, casually, “She’s gotta be into me, she’s always nice, and we’re both like queer or whatever,” Raja flipped her hair over her shoulder and adopted a sexy voice, “So why wouldn’t she wanna make out?”

“You’re so annoying,” laughed Delta, and then shook her head, “Just don’t break her heart, bitch, that’ll make our parties super awkward.”

Then they hung out and made dinner and Raja remembered she was still pretty greasy and took a shower. After that she was really, truly, no longer high and it was time to actually work on her philosophy paper.

But Raja knew that something today had shifted. Maybe getting super high, freaking out in the grocery store and having Manila rescue her had brought something to the surface that always been there. Or maybe the affection and desire was totally new. It didn’t make that much of a difference to Raja. The next time the moment struck, she’d simply ask Manila again if she was interested. If Manila genuinely wasn’t then Raja would leave her alone, they’d remain friends, and she’d move on to someone else. But should Manila say yes… well, that would be super fun, wouldn’t it?

#rpdr fanfiction #everybody knows you're high #rajila #raja gemini #manila luzon #lesbian au #college au #friends to lovers #dartmouth420 #tw weed #submission

23 notes · View notes

doomedandstoned · 3 years

Text

A Talk With BREATH, Portland’s New Meditative Doom Metal Duo

~By Billy Goate~

Illustrations by Tyler Wintermute

We're used to doom metal being, well, rather dark and sinister, but can it be meditative too? OM, the famous Al Cisneros side project, proved that yes, it can. Other acts, such as the celebrated UK band Bong, the New Brunswick trio Zaum followed (with Italy's Ufomammut, Finland's Dark Buddha Rising, and Ukraine's Bomg being just a step away with their generous, if often louder, landscapes).

Then I encountered doom metal yoga in Portland, and all bets were off.

Last month, Doomed & Stoned introduced you to another band you can add to your short list, whether listening in your Savasana stance ("corpse pose"), getting your groove on at work, or doing a little wake 'n bake to start the day.

This is BREATH from the City of Roses and on February 5th, all mysteries will be revealed as the meditative doom duo brings us their debut LP, 'Primeval Transmissions' (2021) on Desert Records.

Their music "is informed by adventures leaving the comforts of what was known behind. Going into unknown woods sometimes figuratively and some literal. With heavy melodically driven grooves their Meditation Doom will take you to secluded caves, and totemic vision quests'' (band bio).

Over the weekend, I traded words with Steven O'Kelly (bass guitar, vox) and Ian Caton (drums, percussion) recently to get to know this new name in the Pacific Northwest heavy underground. Doomed & Stoned also takes this opportunity to share a new visualizer with you for Breath's latest single, "Observer."

Breath - Observer

What themes and concepts does Breath explore musically and lyrically?

Peering into rituals meant to transcend the physical world. Initiations into the varied mystery schools like Orphism or Druidry I find very powerful. The Shamanistic role being so selfless putting themselves through extreme trials, shedding their previous self to protect their people by communication with spirit.

These things have lots of weight with sacrifice, and knowledge seeking from traditions nearly lost to time. Our sound aims to reflect that weight through the way we use the bass guitar and drums. I think a theme of meditation informs a lot of the riffs with spaciousness and transformation.

Who are your musical influences?

Foundationally, Black Sabbath is a center pillar. My first record being a Sabbath compilation by Earmark. I appreciate the balance they find between settled songs like "Orchid" leading into its counterpart "Lord of this World." Grails’ Burning Off Impurities is such a vehicle that I would get lost in through the whole record. Melting boundaries of East and West with Zak Riles’ classical guitar and the crushing drum work by Emil Amos.

That brings me to Om, which is an important band to me that struck a chord all the way through from the music to aesthetic. Every show I’ve been to is like I’ve snuck into a temple ceremony, and leave feeling light on my feet and blissfully ringing eardrums. "On the Mountain at Dawn" is the heaviest song to me, with this immediacy and undeniable flow like the strong current of a river.

Photographs by Marissa Caldarelli

What sort of gear do you guys perform and record with?

Ian: DW Performance series Drum kit with Maple shells. Remo heads and Aquarian Kick Drum head. Zildjian K cymbals.

Steven: 4003 Rickenbacker bass guitar. Electric Amp Innovations Power Unit 180. Ampeg 8x10 speaker cabinet. Geezer Butler Cry Baby bass wah. MXR bass compressor. Ernie Ball VP Jr. Electro Harmonix Freeze. Deluxe Bass Big Muff. Also, Shure SM 58 and VE-20 Boss Vocal Performer.

You've mentioned gaining inspiration from solitary walks in the woods. What does the Oregon outdoors mean to you and how does it stir your creative processes?

When I first tried meditation, I was given this palm sized booklet by Buddhadasa Bhikkhu on breathwork as the entrance to a practice. Feeling and visualizing blue water filling and then leaving the well of your lungs. The band like our actual breath is a lifeblood for me. Making music and lyrics I can easily and gladly lose myself in. That practice I believe is responsible for shaping our sound.

Sometimes I feel a sort of unspoken conversation with the trees that surround, lots of times getting most lyrical ideas during these hikes. Boundaries are fluid in this space, and by its very nature puts my mind out of whatever box it might’ve been in before. Wilderness here has lots of personalities through wind, rain, and sun. For me, watching trees come alive moving in the wind or the quiet calm after a rain breeds deep reflection. Nature is a mirror.

What's the biggest epiphany or the strangest thing that you've experienced while being surrounded by Mother Nature?

On a summer day at Mt. Tabor in East Portland sitting in a secluded grassy opening circled by trees, I had the most psychedelic out of body experience without the aid of eating anything. High through trance, I came to the plants and tree’s awareness of me and I them. Like they knew my name.

Many of your tracks tell a story. Are these original tales or based upon the band's own mythos?

Whether I identify with an archetype or am retelling an experience I had, All the lyrics have roots in my real life even if themes might be far flung from our time.

Primeval Transmissions by Breath

Give us a walk through your new record, track by track, if you will.

Track 1 Starting with "Evocation," it’s a mixture of Shamanistic ritual and the effects meditation can have in clearing hurdles of adversity. I had been reading a book on Druid Lore and their equivalents around the world. Then I discovered Werner Herzog’s Cave of Forgotten Dreams and was completely spellbound. Seeing cave paintings perfectly intact, it’s entrance hidden by a rock slide before Roman times in France. This painted a visual counterpart to my reading and was consumed with the world it represented. Hallucinogenic trance, their soul migrating to the spirit world through the rising smoke of the fire lighting cave art meant to dance with flickering flame. Taking on an animal guide and returning anew.

Track 2 "Dwarka" at its roots is a story about confrontation with otherworldly phenomena. There’s two personalities to it. At first the ominous impending arrival and, the character coming to grips with what he’s witnessed. The nature of the main riff reflects the enormity of space, and what might be out there. I feel like the energy of the song mirrors how the witness felt, getting heavier as the night becomes more harrowing.

Track 3 "Observer" bridges my love of Eastern music like Ravi Shankar and Baris Manco with metal accents. It’s the journey your mind can take through meditation, simply focusing on your breath and how it can lead to intensity. Mainly one riff building and transforming over the course of Observer. The lyrics are a recording of Sri Swami Satchidananda leading Hatha Yoga, an important teacher for me.

Track 4 "Battle for Harmonic Balance" is centered around the ancient mystery schools of the left and right Eye of Horus. Invoking themes of renewal like the Akhet, a Sun rising between two mountains. Heaviness from the beginning reflecting the weight of importance Egypt holds to me, being a cornerstone of our past. The riff deconstructs towards the end, aligning the song like the Sphinx during the Equinox. Facing East to summon the Sun once more. "Halls of Amenti" is the realm of the Gods, where the Sun goes at night. An ethereal ceremony exchanging distortion and drums for the hypnotic beat of a Shaker and deep Bass guitar.

Track 5 The reprise to "Evocation" is a continuation of the Shaman’s trek across the razor’s edge. With this offering without lyrics we convey the obstacles, lulls, and successful return starting with the similar ritual beginning as its first chapter. This is followed by a call and response conversation between drums and bass guitar. Floating in the ether until finding his way alongside the totemic animal guide culminating at the end, returning to body like the tide returns out to Sea.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Interviews #Breath #Portland #Oregon #doom #meditative #metal #doom metal #meditative doom #interview #Desert Records #Doomed and Stoned

5 notes · View notes

samwrights · 4 years

Text

Bricks - Punk!AU [Terushima]

Here is the first chapter of Terushima’s route in Elixir! If you haven’t read the prologue, I’ll leave a link here as well as at the bottom of the chapter’s navigation. Artwork is not mine so if we find the artist, can someone please let me know so I can properly credit them?

Ya know, this is probably least popular post/series on here but I’m in it and I write what I want 🤙🏻

Lyrics are italicized and sang entirely in your voice.

WARNINGS: this kinda fluffy chapter involves cheating, vulgar language, indirect use of marijuana, and cocaine use. There is a brief mention of you getting drugged a party and mild sexual themes as well, but nothing super heavy. Just making out. Please please please do not read if any of these themes make you uncomfortable.

Word count: ~4K

Song used: Brick by Boring Brick - Paramore

A complementary playlist can be found » here

“Can we run Brick By Boring Brick one more time? My vocals were kinda meh.” Was your response to Kuroo’s question. The rest of your bandmates look to you in surprise, which you feared that they might since there was nearly no flaws in the song at all. After all, it was a pretty straightforward song with simple beat and melody. “I-I think my notes were just a little flat and my timing’s off, that cool with you guys?” Both of the guitarists looked to each other before turning to face the drummer, who gave a reassuring grin to you.

“If that’s what you wanna work on, baby, then we’ll do it.” You had half a mind to reprimand Terushima about using pet names with you while his girlfriend was present. Not that it necessarily should have raised anybody’s suspicions—more often than not, Teru called everybody by some form of a nickname, whether it be out of affection or because he didn’t know a person’s name was entirely dependent on the situation. In truth, you loved the lyrics to this song more than anything, even more so that the same man you wanted to reprimand was the one who helped inspire you to write it.

It started off with easy power chords and a steady drum beat, until Makki took his place as the steadfast rhythm. The intro takes a few bars of space before you begin your first verse nearly twenty-five seconds in.

She lives in a fairytale

There were many reasons that this song was special to you. For starters, it was one of the few pieces that Elixir had in their repertoire that emphasized and valued the distinct differences between yours and Makki’s vocals. Naturally, you tended to have a higher yet shorter range, whereas Makki was capable of complimenting you in more ways than one.

Another was that, since this was a second song in the set after a taxing song like Besitos, Brick By Boring Brick was much more tame, yet still held an easy feel to it that the audience could weave and bob along at a leisurely pace. It was a crowd pleaser while simultaneously having bits and pieces in which the crowd could engage by clapping along with the beat, which always gave you an additional burst of energy.

Finally, this song truly highlighted the things that Terushima did for the band. This blondie was in charge of setting that pace to fire up the crowd; he was in charge in holding the steady rhythm to keep the four of you in time.

He was the reason you wrote the song.

Not that anyone else in the band knew that the words comprised in the verses were strings of feelings you’d had towards the man in a non-obvious way.

She’s ripping off wings of butterflies.

You smiled as you drawled the line out, staring at the three girlfriends sitting on a couch together not ten feet from you. They were staring back at you as well, not that you could be bothered in the moment. Right now, your focus was on making sure you were hitting the high notes in the right key when you entered the chorus. Considering you wrote the song, it shouldn’t have been hard for you to hit. Then again, you’d been smoking nearly a pack a day for seven years—there were bound to be raspy inconsistencies. After the first chorus, you were granted a moment’s reprieve as Makki scatted a simple line, his soprano contrasting your tenor in all the right ways. And while you loved hearing your bassist sing, you were entranced in the way Teru focused on emphasizing the drum beat, considering you and Kuroo were essentially mute for the brief moment.

Terushima hated the second verse of the song with every fiber of his being, but he loved seeing how joyous you looked when you sang it. He hates it because he knows why you wrote it and he hates because he knows you feel the same way he does.

The first time he cheated on his girlfriend was with you. Or rather, you were the only person he cheated on her with, and the first time it had happened, you were so overrun with guilt that you laid naked in his bed, curled into a ball and sobbed. Yet the two of you couldn’t stop, refused to stop, no matter how much guilt flooded your bodies.

More importantly, he hated the song implied that he was some sort of prince when he lacked the grace of one and the implication that he saved you. He did no such thing—if anything, he destroyed you.

But it was a trick and the clock struck twelve

How Terushima was able to focus on drumming when every time he heard his song, all he could think of were the secret trysts between the two of you, was beyond him. But hearing that line constantly reminded him that your relationship was illusion made of paper thin glass that could be shattered in an instant. Hence the line,

Build your home brick by boring brick or the wolf’s gonna blow it down.

Yūji was thankful that Elixir was home for you because it was home for him too. The bricks that built your guys’ foundation was the many years of friendship and memories together. A lot of them were firsts—the first time you all met; the first time you all hung out outside of work; the first time you all drank together despite being underage; the first time Yūji offered to smoke everyone up and the way you hesitated, never having smoked weed before. He distinctly remembers having to work a bong for you because you couldn’t grasp the concept of the mechanics.

Terushima remembers the first and only time you got drugged at a party in college and he how he had never felt the fear swelling in his body so bad. The same night the four of you vowed that you were done with the party life and how the only people you trusted was the four people holding instruments right now. Sometimes he would use these type of thoughts to ease yours and his guilt for his infidelity when, in reality, Terushima really just didn’t know how to tell her he didn’t want to be with her. Minami meant well, that much he knew. She wanted to see him succeed in life, as opposed to the way he was wasting away in his mom’s basement while playing in a band with his high school best friends. According to her, Terushima was destined for something greater than the way his life was going, but he also was too pathetic to do anything about it. She’d told him once he would never go anywhere if he didn’t try to push himself.

You built up a world of magic, because your real life is tragic.

The only way that Terushima felt that he was destined for something greater was when he was with you buried and twisted up in the sheets of your apartment. Naked or not, there was no better feeling for him than when he got to lay beside you, reassuring you that he was going to leave Minami one day. But you weren’t stupid, and you swore that it was better for the group if you two remained incognito. Your delusions convinced you that Kuroo and Makki would be more upset to know that the two of you were fucking behind each other’s back, as opposed to respecting the “homeostasis of the group”, as Kuroo called it. Deep down, you knew and Teru knew that the others would be so happy to finally see you both stop embarrassingly trying to bottle your feelings because man you guys flooded rooms with sexual tension.

If it’s not real, you can’t hold it in your hand.

Yūji Terushima loved many things about you. He loved your passion for life, the vivacious nature you brought to everything you did, how you made dirty words sound like praise and compliments and not just when you sang. However, he could live without you singing songs that had constant digs at him and you and your guys’ shitty situation, but even then, he could listen to you forever. Even if there were times he could see the veins in your neck begin to protrude in efforts to try to raise your pitch, Teru swore you were an angel. Even if you would lean your head on Makki while the two of you closed out the song in harmony, he knew the feelings you had for Makki were different than what you felt for him. You were special to him and he was special to you.

“Satisfied, princess?” The drummer asks you, not even remotely out of breath after the track. You gave a roll of your eyes before grabbing another beer from the mini-fridge just to the side of the stairs, making sure to hand one to each of your mates. By the second turn around, you noticed that the couch was now vacant and Terushima was excusing himself, plucking the tall can from your hands. “Just gonna walk ‘em out real quick, be right back.” It takes everything in him in that moment not to reach over and peck your lips, like he’s not saying his goodbye to his actual girlfriend for the evening.

“So, did that sound better or—“ while your question was technically finished, the remaining bandmates stared at you knowingly. You were thankful all the girlfriends left. “What?”

“Don’t think we didn’t see that.” Kuroo muses. Everyone in the band knew, to some degree, that you liked Terushima. It was so painstakingly obvious, yet you chose to live in denial that you would ever have him. Even though the mutual pining between the two of you had gone on for years, you were adamant on remaining neutral and keeping the friend group together until Terushima had finally given up on you.

Well, he did give up on you, until the first time he had laid victim to the verbal assault, for lack of better term, to Minami’s insults. She knew how to play him better than he did his drums, knew that to keep him hooked she just had to sit there and stroke his fragile ego and tell him he was the most amazing person in the world. That Terushima was worthy of all the love and praise she showered him in, before she would follow it with knocking him back down to size. The first time he heard it three months ago, he had spiraled so hard that nobody was even in contact with him for a week. Every day for seven days, Terushima was so far gone, blowing through his monthly supply of weed and tapping into his emergency stash of edibles. So far gone with nothing to numb him except for dabbling with blow, hoping the high of cocaine would soothe his need for constant reaffirmation.

Spoiler alert—it didn’t.

“You saw nothing.” You bit back, glaring at the two men before you before taking a gracious glug of your ale to quell your embarrassment.

“We aren’t stupid, babe.” Makki chimes, setting down his guitar and leaning on his amp to stare at you. “Why are you guys even putting yourselves through this? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Let me humor you, Makki,” your voice is dry, and contrarily humorless as you sit on top of a spare stool that Kuroo kept nearby for when he had to switch to acoustic guitar. “Say we date and everything’s all happy and shit, hooray! But then it’s like we leave you guys behind. I would never forgive myself for that.”

“[name], we would never let you leave us behind.” Kuroo blanches in rebuttal.

“Okay, but what if we have to end things and it gets messy? You’ve seen how I can get.” The latter leaves your lips bitterly, knowing full well that when you were mad, there was no object off limits to you and they would inevitably be broken and thrown. “It’s just not worth throwing away our ten plus years of friendship.”

“I’m not worth it, huh?” Teru announces as he walks back down the basement stairs, face sullen as he heard every word of the conversation. Seeing his own grave expression cracks your heart like concrete in an earthquake.

“T-Teru, no...”

“Everyone get the fuck out.” Sensing the volatility of the situation, Hanamaki and Kuroo remove their instruments cautiously, fearing that the slightest upset would unleash the kraken of Terushima’s bitter rage. Gathering their belongings, the two men began to trickle out, stopping when they realized you’d yet to move. They glanced at each other in worry, unsure of whether or not they needed to drag you out of the basement or stay to back you up for an inevitable argument. Their decision was made for them when Terushima repeated, “get the fuck out!”

“No.” Sometimes, everyone hated how stubborn you were, especially Kuroo and Makki. Everyone hated how stubborn you both were.

“[name], please try to get this shit together. We have a show tomorrow for fuck’s sake.” The raven haired guitarist mumbled in defeat before thudding up the steps with Makki in tow, leaving you in the basement and Terushima halfway down the steps.

“I meant you too.” The blonde bites out, contradicting his movements as he descended down the stairs further. You don’t move, watching him cautiously as he pulls off a small panel of the wooden walls of the basement. “I mean it, [name],” all humor and sunshine has dried from his vocal chords as he says your name, something he does not do enough of. “Go. I-I can’t look at you right now.” Still, you remain, watching in wonder as begins cutting up a small rock on a silver tray near his drum kit, pulling out a bill and rolling it tightly.

“I thought you quit.” You say quietly, unsure of whether or not you should approach him.

“How can I?” Terushima’s voice is bitter and sharp, his statement accentuated with the sound of him snorting the line he had out on the tray. You could tell from his movements alone that he needed to adjust his nose ring after doing so. “Takes me to the only place where everything’s okay.”

“How is any of this okay, Yūji?”

“Don’t fucking call me that!” The blonde snaps, whipping his body around with a feral look in his eye. Out of context, it would have been stupid to say that considering all you said was his name. But you knew what it did to him to hear you say it, to not call him by his last name as you have for ten plus years; for you to not call him by the nickname that only you used. “You lost the right when you said I wasn’t worth it.”

“Yūji, I didn’t say that.” By now, your voice is pleading, begging for him to hear you out. As he stomps towards you, you expect him to grab you, either out of anger or love didn’t matter, you welcomed both. But instead he breezes right by you to sit on the couch where Minami once sat and buried his face in his hands. Hesitantly, you sat beside him, his silent cries coaxing you to approach. Terushima was shaking, the clothes on his back trembling as he mutely wracked sobs. “All I said is that I’m fucking terrified of throwing away everything we built for the last ten years.”

“Why can’t we just keep building?”

“Teru, you made that choice and I don’t blame you for it.” You shifted slightly beside him to face him despite his face still being covered. He meant it when he said he couldn’t look at you right now—he couldn’t stand to stare at you knowing he wouldn’t find judgment or anger like when he faced Minami. Every time he looked at you, he saw nothing but love and trust and he couldn’t help but be overrun with guilt over making the stupid decision to date Minami in the first place. “I made that choice, too.”

“I thought having her around would help me get over you.” A small, sympathetic hum vibrated between your tightly pursed lips. “I’m still hoping she does.” You know there’s truth to his words—there is. But even with that portion of honesty didn’t change the fact that he routinely cheated on his girlfriend with you and you can’t help but wonder how all of this happened in the first place and why you kept going along with it. There was no use in wondering, not when you had all the answers. Not when you knew the first time it had happened, he was so overrun with insecurities than Minami created and that you loved him so much that you couldn’t stand to see him talk about how much he hated himself. If infidelity was what was needed for him to see himself the way you see him, then so be it.

You needed him to see himself as the light that brought and kept the four of you together—kept you together. As the person that protected you at university after someone drugged your drink when nobody was looking. As the person who valued your safety more than he loved his freedom and proved it by getting everyone to put their party phase to rest. As the beautiful man that he was, even with scars that littered his face from old, retired piercings he had taken out because he thought they made him look stupid. You missed his lip rings.

You loved him so much that you couldn’t risk a sour relationship ruining your friendship with him forever. “Yūji, you know that I return your feelings...” With extreme carefulness, you pry Terushima’s hands away from his face and cradle them in your own. “You also know what I’m afraid of.”

“You can’t keep hiding behind that fucking excuse.” He snarls, his blown out pupils finally turning to face you. The harrowing of his eyes was daunting, taunting you with guilt that you were some how responsible for his dependency on cocaine. “Our friendship was ruined a long time ago.”

“You can’t keep a back up plan,” you countered, “either we face this together or we call it off.” As the words left your mouth, tears began to quietly roll down your cheeks, speaking your ultimatum into existence. You’d had enough. No more seeing your sunshine bury who he used to be under bumps; no more covering up his stupid amateur basement tattoos with hoodies and jeans because Minami didn’t like them; no more pretending that he was over you just to crawl into your lap after a bad high and kiss you. You couldn’t take it anymore, but neither could he.

With urgency and fire, Terushima’s trembling hands cup your cheeks, holding you in place like you would disappear if he hadn’t. Surely, had your lips not softened the blow, your teeth would have clacked with his from sheer force. Needing no further assurances, your eyes squeezed shut, basking in the warmth that radiated off of him. The stud in his tongue ran along your lower lip, asking for permission he knew he didn’t need before the muscle and metal traced along every surface in your mouth. Your fingers twisted and tangled at the base of his grown out undercut, trying to pull him impossibly close to you, trying to fuse his body with yours. “We face this together.” The blonde pants out, only taking a moment to recollect his oxygen before he’s on you once again. Clumsy, tattooed hands are tugging at the hem of your shirt while yours are unceremoniously clawing at his zip up hoodie to get it off of him. When both of you are faced with the need to pull cloth off of your torso, your hands press delicately to his inked chest, stopping him from professing.

“I love you.” You remind him softly, wondering how many times someone else had been underneath him, saying the same thing. Terushima doesn’t say anything in reply, instead latching his lips on the thin, sensitive skin on your neck. “Yūji, listen to me for a second.”

“No.” There was a fearful twinge to his voice that he could no longer mask. Fear that if the two of you stopped what you were doing, it would never happen again; fear that this wasn’t happening and he was too high and that he was imagining it all. It happened to him enough times. Knowing that he liked to be treated rough, your fingers thread through his matted locks once again, though this stop not out of pleasure.

“Listen to me,” you repeated, now scooting up a bit to rest on your elbows to keep you suspended. “I love you. And no matter what happens, I will always love you.”

His voice trembles, along with every bone in his body, as Terushima responds. “Please, you’re making this sound like this is the last time...” It broke your heart in more ways than one. Because, in a sense, it would be the last time. Only if the two of you couldn’t dive in together, only if he couldn’t end the relationship that was slowly tearing him apart from the inside out. “I promise, it’s you and me.” He’s far from calm, but he stills has your fingers trace down his sweaty brow, following down to the single dermal stud below his eye before dancing along his nose hoop. Knowing your path, Teru sticks his tongue out, allowing the tips of your fingers to trace the barbell that typically rested in his mouth. It’s an oddly intimate act, one that was only ever done by you, but it’s an act he loves nonetheless because it’s done by you. But while you love touching him, you know what he needs more than anything.

He needs to hear it.

“I’ve always loved the way you looked.” Your words of praise start off slow and your fingers gingerly graze over where the studs in his lips once resided. “I waited those two extra years for because I didn’t wanna move on to a new chapter in my life without you.” Terushima groans at the admission, unsure if he wanted to cry or kiss you in response. “It breaks my heart to see Minami treat you like you’re less than you are, because you are my sunshine. You bring light into everything you do and I can’t help but wonder if it’s my fault that she’s in the picture at all.”

Cry, he decides finally, because your words hurt him in the most sensual way.

“It’s my fault. I ran away, thinking if I just fucked someone else I would get over you.” Shit, now he’s blaming himself and the two of you are back at square one.

“No, Teru. It’s my fault for being chickenshit.” He doesn’t wanna hear it anymore, he decides, bringing his bruised and swollen lips back to yours. It doesn’t matter who’s fault it was or is, all that matters is that you stick true to your word. That after Minami’s out of the picture, the two of you hang on to each other tightly and dive headfirst into this new territory. “I love you so much and I’m so fucking sorry for ever holding back.”

“So don’t hold back anymore.”

[ Elixir « Bricks » Love Bites ]

Let me know how you guys are liking this series so far?

Wanna see a specific character? Or a different head cannon? Want to see a whole story?

Send in requests!

#samwrights #Haikyu!!#haikyuu!!AU #punk!au #punk!kuroo #punk!hanamaki #punk!reader #punk!haikyuu #punk!terushima #cheating #haikyuu terushima #terushima yuuji #yūji terushima #hq terushima #terushima x reader #yuuji terushima x reader #paramore

37 notes · View notes

bellatrixobsessed1 · 4 years

Text

Chasing Fyre

This hot mess of a fic is brought to you by this hot mess of a discussion.

Azula lays in the grass, staring up at the sun...the moon? She isn’t sure what she is staring at, but it is an orb and it is in the sky. What she is looking at is neither the sun nor the moon, but a paper lantern that sways in the breeze. This is boundlessly alarming for the princess because she has never seen the sun move like that. Usually the sun sits in a fixed position. Perhaps, she decides, she isn’t looking at the sun at all. Perhaps she is looking at Sozin’s Comet coming back because it too knows that she has been cheated out of her crown. Azula grins, this time, she will have victory! But then it dawns upon her that she has never seen a comet hang in one place for so long.

She rubs her head, it is beginning to ache. She takes another hit from her cactus juice joint. It has been prescribed to her to calm her anxieties and alleviate her stresses. Though they advised her to use it only in moderation. Which had been going well until she’d met that weird flying monkey thing. She should have known not to trust it, it is after all, the Avatar’s pet. But she had run out of her medicinal cactus juice so she didn’t refuse when the creature perched itself on the window and said in a voice that was alarmingly deep for a creature so small, “five gold pieces and I’ll get you the stuff.”

“Just this once, lemur.” She had vowed.

“You can call me M0m0. But with two zeros instead of O’s.”

“Just this once, lemur.” She had repeated as she fished out five gold pieces.

As fate will have it, the lemur’s cactus juice is much stronger than the medically regulated joints she is used to. And so the princess finds herself unfathomably and helplessly high as fuck. She flops down and tries to remember where the hell she is and how the hell she has managed to free herself from that institution again. Especially considering how heavily they have cracked down since her last escape. She wracks her brain but each blade of grass around her has something to say.

“You’re pretty, Azula.” “You have nice eyes!” “Those asylum robes look great on you!” “You deserved to be fire lord.” “You are the fire lord.”

At this, Azula perks up. “I am?”

“You are to me.” That particular strand of grass gushes. She smiles at the strand and plucks it from the ground. It grows silent. She has killed it. She begins to cry softly to herself. Another friend lost.

.oOo.

“We’ve decided to try something different with her.” The head doctor speaks.

“What are you trying?” Zuko asks.

“Medicinal cactus juice.” The man replies.

“And…” Zuko prompts.

“It was going well.”

“Until…”

“It stopped going well.” The doctor smiles nervously.

“Can I see her?” Zuko asks.

“Ah...well, that’s part of the problem. You seeeeee….she...uh...she escaped.”

“Escaped!?” Zuko throws his hands up. “Have you started looking for her.”

“We have not. But we think that we know where to start.” He pauses. “The princess has grown quite fond of Chong & The Singing Nomads.”

Zuko curses to himself. He and Mai have had several discussions already and they have already decided that they would be staying far, far away from that crowd and their bad hair and lack of hygiene. And their overly lax mannerisms and their constant spouting of peace and love bullshit. Both he and Mai are well aware that peace is for Air Nomads and love is dumb. They do not love each other, they simply not hate each other. “You don’t really think that she went there do you?”

The doctors trade glances. “We think that she did.”

.oOo.

“Do it, Azula, follow your dreams.” The remaining blades of highly motivational grass chant. “Achieve your goals!”

Azula, feeling highly lethargic, stands up anyhow. With each enthusiastic encouragement, the princess finds herself feeling more inspired even if she’d rather lay back down and stare at the swaying sun.

“You can do it!” Shouts a blade of grass that sounds like it belongs to a burly earthbender. It sounds that way, because it had come from an earthbender. The Boulder to be specific, he is shouting at Toph as she tries to deadlift Appa who is being ridden by Raava. But Azula does not know this, so she attributes it to the blades of grass. And she decides that she will. She will go out and do what she had escaped to do. What she had always wanted to do. What she had been born to do! She is going to meet her favorite band and she is going to join them!

She supposes that this is much easier said than done considering how many bands are in attendance.

.oOo.

The scent of incense hangs heavily in the air. A breeze rustles the beaded curtains that act as the tent’s door. Moku leans back, humming to himself.

“C’mon man.” Chong drawls. “We just need one more good joint, man. And we’ll write one more jam it’ll be totally groovy, man.”

“I don’t grow for free.” Momo scowls. “Do you know how hard it is to ditch that bald headed, twinkly toed, monk?”

“It’s godda be tough, man.” Chong admits.

“I gotta act like a muffin...a complete square. If my homies saw me prancing with that loser they wouldn’t ride with me anymore. So when I grow, I gotta make bank. I ain’t makin’ bank with you.”

“Bummer, man. Listen, just hang tough and in the mean time pass us another joint and you can jam with us.”

Momo pulls out a glock. “You pay up or Imma cap yer ass.”

“What a downer.” Says Lily.

.oOo.

Azula wanders aimlessly, she has been wandering for some twenty minutes now. Though she has not made it very far. She circles the same tent for the fourteenth time now; she does not realize that it is the same tent because every time she makes a lap around it the design shifts.

Azula frowns and folds her arms over her chest. And then she extends her arm. She crosses them over her chest again. She extends her arm once more. “Arms are weird.” She says to herself. She bends and unbends her arm several times. “We-eird.” She whispers in a lazy sing-long.

She shakes her head, she has to stay focused. She looks around. The place is disorientingly crowded. People sit shoulder to shoulder on checkered blankets. They braid each other’s hair and weave flower crowns. Some make bead jewelry and others make love.

Azula narrows her eyes, just who makes love while wearing socks. She tip toes up to the woman and tugs her socks off.

“Hey! What are you doing!?” The woman shouts.

Azula bolts. Bolts meaning lightning bolts. She does not run. Running is for lil’ bitches. And Azula isn’t a lil’ bitch expect for when her therapist brings up her mother then she is kinda, in fact, a lil’ bitch. At the very least, she cries like one.

Having freshly charred a woman, Azula wanders off. She is carried on a cloud of music. Music! Her objective comes back to her.

.oOo.

“Welcome to Fyre Fest, the Fyre Nation’s most far out festival!” Guru Pathik greets. “Onion and banana juice?”

“No thanks.” Zuko grumbles. He wishes that Mai would have come along, but he could convince her to ‘enter that hippie hell land’. He’d even snagged some My Chemical Romance tickets from another dimension entirely and she still sent him off on his own.

He looks around. In ever direction is some new monstrosity and none of them are Azula. He sees men and women running around with their bits exposed, the more conservitive of them place leaves and flowers but just enough of them to cover what needs covering. He sees men with long hair staring into lava lamps that they heat and bend themselves. Across the way a woman offers to predict the future via seeing it in smoke. Zuko is certain that a helping of cactus juice is involved with those visions. But it isn’t what he sees that horrifies him the most; it is what he hears. Pan flutes and harps play out of sync to a singer who may very well be tone def. She bellows a ditty about loving one’s self and loving one’s potted cacti.

He covers his ears. He has to find Azula fast, before she can do something that will have the nation talking. Because if the Fyre Nation citizens get to talking then word will get to his father. And if word gers to father… Zuko shudders, the man is a week away from getting out of prison and if he comes back to his perfect, can-do-no-wrong daughter completely stoned…

.oOo.

Azula wanders towards the music. There are, in fact, many songs playing all at once--most of them come from the various stages or from within the tents. But there are at least two songs that play in Azula’s mind only; these songs are indescribably horrifying they are played at a frequency very low so as to induce a sense of horror and foreboding. But Azula is used to them and has actually taken a liking to them.

She ignores these songs for the time being and tugs open one of the tent flaps. She pushes the beaded curtain aside. It is vacant except for an air of failure and a perfume of incense. Azula can see the failure, it is all around and there is so much of it. So, so much failure. She stumbles back and out of the tent, she trips over a bong and falls on her ass, this doesn’t deter her any. She continues her hasty retreat away from the failure before it can latch onto her again.

It chases her clear across the field. She is so busy looking at the failure behind her that she doesn’t notice the failure in front of her until she collides with him. “Oh, hi Zuzu.” She greets before remembering that it is probably not a good thing that he has found her. Before he can turn around she picks up one of the rugs, lays down, and throws it over herself. It is only large enough to cover her face.

“Azula...” Zuko says through gritted teeth. “What are you doing here?”

“I am not here. I am back at the institution where you left me.”

“You’re right here, I can see you.”

“No you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“No you can’t.”

“Yes I--okay, no, I’m not doing this with you again.” Zuko hisses. “You’re right here in my field of vision.”

Azula does not understand, she is perfectly hidden. Zuko snatches the blanket from her face and she screeches. Zuko winces at the hideous noise. She seizes the opportunity to dash.

.oOo.

“Wait, no!” He hollers.

But Azula is fast, she has always been fast. Why the hell can’t she be clumsy and uncoordinated like every other stoner he has met.

“Hey, man, you need some chase music?” Chong asks. He still has plenty of time before his performance.

Zuko is about to say no, but Chong plucks at his dramyin and begins a fast paced and frenzied tune. As Zuko persues Azula, Chong persues him. Lily chases Chong and chasing Lily is Moku who is being chased by Momo, who is chased by Zhao, who is chased by Vaatu who is trying to drag him back to the depths of hell where he belongs.

Zuko doesn’t notice any of this for he is hyper fixated on Azula who has flung herself into a pile of flower petals and is army crawling towards one of the stages.

“I did it!” Toph shouts loudly. Zuko looks away momentarily to see Toph standing proud, holding Appa above her head, arm pit hair blowing in the breeze. Zuko gags, he has only heard legends about armpit hair that long. He wants to cry. Even if Mai would let him, he couldn’t even grow his pit hair out that long.

.oOo.

Azula smirks to herself, she knew that it was a good idea to sprint past Toph! With Zuzu well and distracted she makes her get away. It is time to begin phase two. Looking back at her brother, she knows that she doesn’t have much time, the shock is already wearing off.

She snatches up a flower crown and a peace sign necklace and takes a seat upon one of the quilts. She gives a loud and forced laugh, “yeah, I totally get it.”

Chan and Ruon-Jian turn to look at the weirdo who has just invited herself into their circle. They don’t remember her arriving at the festival with them, they aren’t even sure if she is real. “What are we doing?” She asks.

“Oh, we’re just hangin’ loose, ya know?” Chan says.

Azula nods but she does not understand. She has not immersed herself in enough Fyer Festival culture to know what that is supposed to mean. She watches Chan pass Ruon a joint. He takes a puff and passes it to the girl next to him.

“You want a hit?” Chan asks when it gets back to him.

“My therapist says that partaking in acts of violence is detrimental to my healing process.” Is what she would have said if she weren’t so high. What she does say, because she is high, is, “yeah, sure man.”

“Far out.” Chan nods with a smile. He gives her the joint and then gives her finger guns.

Before she can bring the joint to her lips, Zuko snatches it. Azula frowns. “How did you find me so quickly?”

“First of all, I know that laugh anywhere. Second of all, you walked like two feet away from where you were before!”

“Can I hit you?” She asks.

“Wh-what?” Zuko sputters as Chan leans in and whispers something in her ear.

She nods and says, “oooooh,” and turns back to Zuko. “Do you want a hit?” She holds out the joint.

“No!” He throws his hands up. “I’d rather let you hit me in the face or something.”

Azula frowns to herself, she has to ditch him somehow. She steals another blunt from Chan and takes a drag, in the hopes of getting a burst of inspiration. She watches the smoke trail up to the clouds. She snaps her head back down, she knows that if she looks up now that the clouds will begin to take shape and that she will end up watching them for hours. The smoke alone is hypnotic. She sways drunkenly back and forth with the smoke. The smoke… Her lips curl back into another wicked grin.

She lets a burst of fire erupts in her palm. Zuko gives a jolt and she does to. She thrusts the flame much too close to his face. “Look at this!”

“I see it.” He carefully pushes her hand away, the grimace never leaving it.

“LoOk aT It!!!” She repeats.

“I see it!”

“Why is my fire water?”

“What?”

“Why do I have fire that is water???”

“It’s…”

“wHY DO I HAVE FIRE. THAT IS WATER!?” She asks with more volume. Now she is holding the fire too close to her own face.

“Throw me.” The fire crackles. “Throw me and I’ll set you free.” She launches a ball of fire, it lands upon a tree and bursts into song. Azula gives a lopsided smile. “My fire can sing.” She declares.

“Why don’t we go home where it’s quieter and you can hear it better?” Zuko offers.

Azula chuckles. “I know what you’re trying to do Zuzu. But it’s not going to work because I’m smarter than you.”

“Maybe when you aren’t high.” He mutters.

Without warning she catapults herself into the air using twin jets of fire. She gives a yelp that is equal parts elated and fearful. She has never felt so free. She lands relatively gracefully and continues her mad dash away from her overbearing brother.

Her excitement subsides and she resumes her aimless wandering. She gets the feeling that she has strayed far from where Chong & The Singing Nomads are performing. She is growing anxious, if she misses them then she will miss her chance to make a name for herself. If she can’t sing then how the hell will she leave her mark on the world. If she can’t sing then she will be forgotten by society.

“You can do it.” A blade of grass reminds her.

“I can do it.” She whispers back.

A pungent spicy odor wafts in on the breeze. She doesn’t know where it comes from but it is rather enticing.

.oOo.

Zuko races through the crowd, people try to sell him banana juice, scented candles, butt scratchers, and something that looks curiously like his father’s favorite left sock.

“No thank you!” He says before the next merchant can speak. He is not interested in band T-shirts--he doesn’t even like this kind of music.

“And here I thought that you’d like some honor.”

Zuko comes to a dead halt. “Honor?” he asks. He clenches his fistrs. No. He doesn’t have time for this. He has to find Azula, if he doesn’t than he will lose more honor than he can ever hope to buy.

He makes his way around another tent as the man calls, “wait! It’s buy one get one free.”

He finds his nose graced with an absolutely heavenly aroma. It is strong and spicy and he follows it to a tent brimming with all sorts of luxurious foods. The meats go mostly untouched. That’s how he knows that Azula is not yet fully immersed in Fyer Fest culture, there is still hope for her. She stands by the roast duck with a fist full of fire flakes in her mouth.

He never imagined that her downfall would be a case of the munchies, but he will take a victory where he can get it. She looks up from her snack and makes eye contact. He isn’t sure if the look of horror in her eyes is because he has found her or if it is because he has caught her doing something far less than dignified. She finishes stuffing the flakes into her mouth and darts off.

.oOo.

The sun is on its way down and she knows that she is running out of time. But she no longer remembers what she is running out of time for. She doesn’t think that it matters. Why would it? She has water fire and encouraging blades of grass that say kind things to her in spite of all of her flaws. They also don’t seem to judge her for eating fire flakes in such a barbaric manner.

“Hey, man, you’re gonna miss the show.” Chan says.

“The show?”

He loops his arm in hers and leads her towards the main stage. Azula grins, she will finally get to see Chong & The Singing Nomads and she is going to do it with an absolutely gorgeous hunk of a man. He pats the grass next to him.

Azula takes a seat.

“Fire flakes?”

Decidedly, she still has the munchies, so she takes the bowl.

.oOo.

Zuko doesn’t find his sister again until Chong & The Singing Nomads begin singing their most popular hit. It is at this time that Azula rises. Like a phoenix out of the ashes, she propels herself up on a wave of blue fire. But only until she notices and gets startled by the color of her fire again. “If I’m a waterbender then why am I at Fyer Fest?”

“Because everyone is invited to Fyre Fest.” Chong calls up.

“Everyone?” Azula asks.

“Everyone.” Chong confirms as he plucks his instrument. “We’re all one, man. We’re all the same.”

The crowd claps. Azula claps. Mai does not clap, because she hates this band and she is enraged that Zuko has been gone long enough for her to grow concerned enough to arrive at Fyre Fest and find him.

“You are terrible at this.” She remarks. “It has taken you all day to find Azula and I’m able to find both of you in under ten minutes.”

“Just...just help me get her home!” Zuko practically begs. “She’s a mess and…” His eyes grow wide when he turns his attention back to her.

“Azula, don’t you dare!”

She halts, mid pull, with her hands gripping the hem of her shirt.

“Father will kill me and then he’ll kill you, and then he’ll resurrect me with spirit water and kill me again!”

.oOo.

Azula’s eyes glimmer with delight, she loves a good murder! With that threat in place, she hastily tugs her shirt over her head and tosses it to the side. A steady stream of fire, from her feet holds her up right.

Zuko’s mouth hangs open in shock and horror. “Azula, put your shirt back on.”

She spares it a glance before lighting it on fire. She hated that uniform anyways. She feels so liberated! Everyone else at the festival is naked, she doesn’t know why she shouldn’t be! She has always wanted to feel the heat of her fire upon her bare skin. She is about to pull her pants down when a tendril snakes over her arm. “Don’t do it, princess.”

“Raava?” She asks.

“You will regret this later. Get down from there and go find yourself a shirt.”

She narrows her eyes, “don’t tell me what to do you gaudy, glowing, kite...thing.” She sputters.

Rava, growing tired of the princess’ antics, and already peeved from having to chase Zhao down, swats Azula out of the sky. She lands with a thud and Chong’s drummer plays a quick ‘bu-dum tiss.’

“You’re ruining my dreams!” She shouts at the offending god-kite. “I just wanna be free and no one wants to let me.”

Raava pets her head. “Shhhh...it’s okay. Have some…”

“More cactus juice?” She asks hopefully.

Raava sprouts herself a pair of eyes so that she can shoot the princess a judging stare.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Azula folds her arms across her chest. “You’re just jealous.” She doesn’t know what she thinks Raava is jealous of, but she knows that she is right in her assumption.

.oOo.

Zuko wraps a blanket over Azula’s shoulders. “Let’s get you home.” She allows him to walk her towards the festival’s exit. Now that she is thoroughly exhausted, she is a lot easier to manage. The biggest hassle she puts up is leaning into him as she walks. She does so until he is pretty much carrying all of her weight. “A little help, Mai.”

“Nope.” She replies. “I just came here to watch you struggle.”

“Come on, I have to get her out of here before father finds out.”

Mai shrugs. “Sounds like a you problem.”

.oOo.

“I saw Raava.” Azula murmurs sleepily.

“That’s what happens when you accept drugs from questionable lemurs.” Zuko replies.

“That lemur is the Avatar’s pet.” Azula defends. “I thought that I could trust him. It’s like Mai and TyLee all over again…”

“Don’t make me get your therapist.” Mai threatens.

Azula waves her off. “Raava was really there…”

“And you’re really a waterbender.” Zuko grumbles.

She crosses her arms and pouts. “I hate you.”

“I saved you--both of us--from dad’s wrath!” He declares. “I chased you all over that hippie…”

“Hellscape.” Mai fills in.

“I chased you all over that hippie hellscape, had my eyes assaulted by Toph’s free flowing armpit hair, and denied a chance at buying my honor to save yours.”

For a moment she considers thanking him, he truly didn’t have to go that far to save her dignity. But he is still Zuzu. And she is still his younger sister so she instead replies, “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Dad would have killed both of us and you’re not even going to thank me?”

Azula sighs, she supposes that it is good that he didn’t let her embarrass herself and that her reputation and relationship with her father will remain unblemished. “You let me yank my shirt off.”

Zuko sighs. “Okay, most of those people were so high that they won’t even remember…”

“I remember and I was high.”

“Honestly, they’ll probably think that it was part of their trips. As far as they know, you’ve been here the whole time.”

A wave of relief comes over her. “Which means that dad will never find out.”

Little do they know, Ozai has already escaped prison and has been Chong’s drummer the whole time.

.oOo.

Ozai takes a long hit of his cactus juice joint. What a night that had been! And here he had thought that he would disguise himself as a nomad, escape prison, and resume his quest for world domination. And that is just what he intends to do. He is going to conquer the world with far out music and a funky fresh beat.

In his wildest dreams he had never imagined that the singing nomad life is for him. He has already grown the beard and long scraggly hair for it!

“So, man, you gonna talk to that lemur for us?” Chong asks.

Ozai shudders. He has faced the Avatar and has had his bending yanked away from his very soul. He had been given a vision of his death and an afterlife in the most horrific end of the Spirit World. But the fear he had felt then doesn’t compare to how looking into Momo’s eyes makes him feel.

“Nah, man. We’ll just pay up.” Ozai shrugs. “I’ll just get some gold pieces from the palace treasury.” He makes a note to do that after he yells at the absolute messes that he has for children. It is the only way to ensure that they never find out that he had attended Fyre Fest and will attend it again.

He doesn’t want to think too much about that right now. Instead he takes another hit of his joint as Moku threads another daisy into his beard.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Zuko #Singing Nomads #Ozai #Crack Fic #Fanfiction

13 notes · View notes

markleesthighs · 5 years

Text

Black Mamba | Chapter 2

Pairings: Reader x Mark Lee, Reader x Hendery, Reader x Jaehyun, feat. ot21

Genre: NCT mafia!au, angst, fluff, light smut (suggestive), comical

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cheating and drugs

Words: 3.415k

【 ❶ ➁ ❸ ❹ ❺ ❻ ❼】

Chapter 2 - Judas Kiss

Valentine’s Day, Seoul, Korea, 2023

You were planning to take Mark out on a date for your anniversary, you were able to book a restaurant and super excited to take Mark. You both have been busy lately, both of you had not left the mansion in a while, and this would be an excellent opportunity to go out. After you got the call for the confirmation, you walked to Mark’s office to go tell him. But before you could open the door, you heard the other boys talking to him about what to do for Valentine’s Day.

“Boss, how long has it been since you’ve gone out?” Jaehyun asked

“I’ve been busy trying to manage you, numskulls.”

“We are all planning on going to hit the club tonight, you should come,” Johnny added.

“Nah, you guys go on your own.”

“C’ mon boss, how long has it been since you’ve had a girl over?” Taeyong asked

“It’s none of your business.”

“Mark, we all know you haven’t had one over in forever,” Donghyuck Responded.

The truth was, Mark did everything he can to avoid the boys from finding out about you two. Whether that was you hiding in the closet, or waiting ten minutes to exit the same room, it was what you promised between each other. Mark also made his room soundproof, to ensure no one would hear both of you in the same place. Mark sighed and gave a somewhat forced answer.

“…fine I’ll go.”

“YES!!” Cheered Yuta

You heard them walking by the door, so you quickly made it look like you were walking to the supplies closet looking for materials for your next weapon. The guys saw you, excited to know what your latest invention was.

“y/n! y/n! What are you working on!” Donghyuck asked

“Well, if I told you I would ruin the surprise.”

“Can’t you give us a little hint?”

“Fine.”

“You guys have to use this on night missions.”

“Ohhhhhhh”

“Well, I have to get back to the lab, I’ll see all of you.”

“Bye y/n!!”

You obviously made that weapon up, but right now you just wanted to go into the lab and reflect on what just happened. You walked into the lab and just sat in there for an hour fiddling your pen, thinking about what to do. You trusted Mark, but you had hoped he would have remembered to do something or anything for your anniversary. He knows that you didn’t like flowers, but in past anniversaries he at least got you a gift and spent more time with you for the day. Last year, he spent the whole day in the lab saying he was “testing” and “approving” your weapons. When in reality, you both were having a secret date inside the lab and couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

The thought of being engaged and getting married crossed your mind, since some of your friends had gotten engaged around three or four years of dating someone. You would say yes, but was this the right time? You decided to head to the bathhouses to clear your mind and think of different things to take your mind off your worries.

The bathhouses were inspired by Japanese onsens, and since you were the only girl in a high ranking position, you got the bathhouse to yourself. Your juniors and other trainees had other houses where they bathed. You let the hot water and steam relax your body, and you watched as there was a light snowfall. Watching the delicate flakes of snow melting softly into the hot water made you feel calm, and forget what you were worried about.

However, when you stepped out and walked back into the mansion, it was extremely quiet. You then asked a maid carrying towels where they went.

“They went out tonight miss.”

Right. They were going to the club. On Valentine’s Day. On your anniversary. You would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt as you walked to your bedroom to change into one of Mark’s hoodies, it smelled like whiskey and his old spice. You tried to sleep, and you were tossing and turning and looked at the clock, 12:00 AM. You realized that you needed to find out for yourself if Mark indeed was staying loyal or else you wouldn’t be able to sleep. You got up and changed into your clothes (with weapons secretly equipped in pockets of course) which was all black, and you wore a black mask to cover your face.

You rode your motorbike near the club and had to walk through a big park to get there since everyone came to this club on Valentines Day, and it’s hard to get in. You noticed that this was the park that you and Mark had your first official date in the public.

You remembered how he violently chased the pigeons and picked up a bunch of flowers for you. It was good and heartwarming memories that reminded you of Mark. But you quickly snapped out of it and focused at the task at hand. You had debated whether to go or not, determining the probability of him catching you there or how he would react. You even wondered if you were just being paranoid and doubting Mark.

“What am I going to do if he sees me?”

“What happens if he is cheating on me?”

“Am I just going crazy?”

“What if I am worried for nothing, god I feel so stupid.”

“So, I am actually doing this, you can do it y/n.”

But you decided, fuck it, let’s just do it, if he sees me, then so be it. You walked up to the bodyguards, and you showed them your NCT tattoo, and they let you in immediately with no question. But of course, everyone else waiting started to yell at them wondering how you magically get to waltz inside. When you got in your eardrums hurt like hell, this was one of the main reasons why you didn’t like clubs. First off, even though you were in a mafia group, you didn’t drink or smoke, you just didn’t like either preferably.

The place clearly reached of alcohol, pot, marijuana, and flavored vape smoke. So many drunk and high people dancing, along with flashing lights, was not your forte. Also, the fact that people were sniffing cocaine and smoking out of rainbow bongs did not help either. You also realized that this particular club as also a strip club, so strippers and naked girls are everywhere. You did notice a bunch of men trying to hit on you, but once you almost broke the arm of a guy trying to grope your ass, they all seemed to back away from you.

You tried to desperately find Mark or even the group, there were so many people and so many sweaty bodies you couldn’t wait to get out of this shit hole. You eventually saw all of them sitting in a booth laughing and drinking, you can tell Mark was drunk because he was really touchy with all of the members and his face has a slight pink tint. You were relieved he was just drinking and not doing other things.

But as you are just going to leave out of the corner of your eye, you saw a girl walk over to Mark and sat on his lap. You turned, and with no hesitation, he started to make out with her and holding her the way he held you. You saw all the boys hooting and hollering Mark. You saw him smiling, which you haven’t seen in a long time.

But there was only one person not following along, which was Donghyuck, who looked uncomfortable in this situation. That led him to notice you with watery eyes, and you quickly ran out of there as fast as your legs could carry you. You ran and ran for miles while knowing Donghyuck was following you, hearing his footsteps linger behind you. You ran not looking back, feeling your tears stream your cheeks as millions of thoughts fill your head.

“Is he happy?”

“Why did he do this?”

“What is wrong with me?

“What is this feeling?

“Why does my throat have a lump?”

“Why does my chest feel heavy?”

“Why are my eyes filled with water?”

“Why did he do this?”

“Did he forget about me?”

The only time you remembered crying like this was at your parents funeral, you have never cried since. For once, you felt hurt again, and you felt betrayed by someone you loved in a long time. You felt sick and vulnerable.

“Why did you make me feel this way?”

You wondered if you ever made him happy. You questioned if he ever loved you. You thought if you were ever enough for Mark.

“Was this just a game?”

“Was my loyalty for three years worth nothing?”

“Did I just waste my time?”

But the footsteps never stopped

“y/n!! Wait!”

You kept running and running until your tears dried up from the wind created while you were running. You ran into the park and sat on a bench with lightly stained tears as Donghyuck caught up to you panting and sat down the bench with you. At this point, you’ve cried enough, and now you are just deep in thought, figuring out an excuse to tell him.

“y/n? why were you at the club?”

“I-I heard you guys were going out…I just- wanted to make sure you guys were okay.”

“Aw, that's so nice of you y/n.”

“Hey! Don’t tell the guys about this, I don’t want them to know I actually care or look out for you or whatever.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them.”

“So, how is guys’ night out?”

“Eh, same old same old, but now it’s interesting now that Mark came with us, he’s usually extremely busy during this time.”

“Well, I should let you get back to your guys night, I’ll be going home.”

“Ride home safe y/n.”

“You know, I will.”

You walked to your motorbike watching Donghyuck casually walk back to that disgusting place, now reminding you what had just happened. You put on your helmet and felt tears falling, and you kept riding faster and faster in anger, wanting to get away. You came home to your face streaming with tears as you walked to the shooting range. You always went there to let out your anger and emotions while practicing your shooting, which was never rusty.

You took a gun from the lab and shot about 10 targets all either all shot in the head or heart. You soon felt calm and emotionally stable after and walked back to the bedroom. You grabbed and changed back into the pajamas you had before, sadly smelling Mark on the hoodie. You had gotten tired and fell asleep for a while.

3 AM, you heard a rally of screaming and drunk men burst through the front door, indicating that they all had just come home from their guys night. You heard footsteps come towards the bedroom door and someone struggling to open the door and eventually opened it. You saw a drunk Mark with lipstick all over his face and hickeys down his neck. His belt was undone, and his pants were all wrinkled, now indicating he did cheat on you. He smelled like cheap flowers and champagne, and suddenly tears filled up your eyes, and you couldn’t see through the blur.

“Whyyyy are yyyouuu wearinggg myy hoodies?”

“You-“

“Whooo saidd youuu couuld wear them?”

“Y-“

“Only peeeople I loveee get to weaaar them. Soooo why are you wearing ittt.”

“…”

“I SAID”

Mark suddenly grabbed you forcefully and shoved you against the wall demanding to know why you were in his room, wearing one of his hoodies. Your eyes were now overflowing with tears, Mark never, in his three years of dating you yelled or shoved you like that. This was someone else, this wasn’t Mark.

“ANSWER ME WOMAN”

“Y-you said I-I-I could w-wear them.”

“WHEN DID I SAY THAT, I NEVER LOVED YOU”

“…”

After that he slapped you in the face and forcefully removed the hoodie from your body, leaving you half-naked.

“NOW GET OUT OF MY ROOM!! I NEVER ASKED FOR ANOTHER WHORE TONIGHT!”

“…”

“I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!!”

Without any hesitation you left, half naked crying so hard you couldn’t breathe, and you ran to your old bedroom. It was just as you had left it, but there was no dust since the maids cleaned every room regardless if it was used or not. Your old clothes were still in the closet, and your old Crocodile jacket was still hanging in there. Your bed was cold and untouched, and it felt weird to try to sleep in here after three years.

You rummaged through your drawers to find an oversized shirt you had gotten at your old apartment. You wore it, feeling cold, not used to wearing a shirt rather than a hoodie. You tucked yourself in, and for one, felt lonely and vulnerable, there was no one to sleep next to you, no one to hold you, no one to love you. Not to your surprise, you had trouble sleeping, you missed sleeping with Mark, and not used to sleeping on your own. You decided to go get some tea to calm you down, a nice cup of chamomile would help.

You walked down the stairs and found Hendry already in the kitchen looking for something as well. You knew Hendery, he was new to the team, but you always knew about his night cravings, since so many of the members complained about it. He did not go out with the guys because he also wasn’t too fond of drinking or clubbing. It looked like he already made a pot of tea and was drinking some on his own.

“Oh, hi y/n, would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

“It’s jasmine if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Hendery took out another teacup and poured you some, and you both drank in silence.

“Is there something on your mind y/n?”

“Yeah…how did you know?”

“You usually don’t wake up in the middle of the night to have tea if you don’t want to calm your thoughts.”

You sighed as you placed your cup down and decided to let your thoughts out to him, he visited your lab a couple of times and was kind enough to deliver you lunch sometimes.

“It’s stupid

“It can’t be stupid if you are thinking about it so much.”

“I just broke up, with someone and it’s just hard to comprehend.”

“Ah, with Mark, right?”

You immediately froze and looked at him in awe.

“H-how did you find out?”

“I saw the signs and subtle flirting with each other, also do you think I’m that stupid to not notice you two going into the same room during the night and come out of the same room early in the morning?”

“Hm…you have a good point.”

“I heard him yelling, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, he was just really drunk, but I’ve never seen him like that. Usually, when he is drunk, he can’t keep his hands off me.”

“I saw he was with someone else, are you okay about him cheating on you?”

“Yeah, but, nah, its just- dumb.”

“No, no, no, let it out.”

“I-I got him a present for our anniversary and Valentine’s Day, but I don’t even think he remembered.”

You revealed a watch that Mark always wanted. You noticed that he kept looking at his clock or phone for the time, and never owned a nice watch. It had your anniversary date on it engraved and had both of your initials on it as well. You showed Hendery, and he looked at it and you in pity. You started to cry again, to which Hendery comforted you, pulling you into his embraced and you cried on his shoulder while he rubbed your back.

“Why did he have to do it?”

“What’s wrong with me?”

“God, I’m so stupid.”

Was one of the few things you choked up while crying into Hendery. He looked at you with a comforting smile and reassured you of all your worries.

“You, are fucking y/n y/l/n, the damn Black Mamba, ex-Crocodile, okay? No one deserves to have you, and whoever does get to keep you is a lucky man, because they will get to love the most badass, loving, and hardworking woman I have ever seen.”

“Aw, you mean it?”

“…yeah, you are always there, looking out for trainees and constantly working in your lab and helping out many members on their missions.”

“Now, don’t think you will magically fall in love and date me because I’m a mess right now.”

“Whatever you say, princess, now go get some rest I’ll clean up.”

You got up from Hendery’s chest and started to walk back.

“Hey Hendery”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being here for me.”

You walked up and pecked his cheek.

“Now, don’t inflate your ego, man.”

He just smiled and waved to you going to bed. You walked back to your dark, and cold room that smelled like fresh cotton, no more musk, whiskey, or cigarette smell lingered in the room. Now calm, you fell into a deep sleep, hoping to never wake up.

You woke up early to help provide some hangover care packages for the guys, knowing they would be in pain for the whole day. You told the chef to prepare the best hangover foods such as eggs and bacon, grilled cheeses, smoothies, and a whole buffet for them. You also provided them with some pain killers and water for their headaches.

Soon, all of them slowly got out of their beds and took some painkillers and food thanking you for helping them. But the last one to come out was Mark, who shuffled his way over to you. You thought he would secretly rub your arm or hold your hand, but he just took his painkillers and food and didn’t even look at you. It was weird. You thought he was just tired and hungover, so he couldn’t even comprehend trying to flirt with you.

“Hey, there’s the man of the hour,” Donghyuck said

“How was a/n (any name) last night?” Asked Jaehyun

“She was…nice, I got her number, we are going on a date later, I want to get to know her better.”

“AYYY THATS MY DUDE” Johnny yelled

“hey, please stop screaming, it's hurting my head” scolded Taeil.

A date? Why would they be going on a date? Is this a cover-up for us dating? Mark got up, looked at you, and you thought he was about to say something to you, maybe a “sorry” or a pity look.

“Here are the dishes.”

“…”

You took them in shock

“Did I just hear that right?”

He gave no reaction or sympathy? Why is he acting this way? So many questions flooded your head while Hendery looked at you in pity, knowing how much pain and confusion you are going through. Mark just walked back and started calling on his phone. You all eventually went back to work just like a normal day. You were in the lab, and Mark only came in to talk about missions and weapons, there was no love or care in his voice.

He was acting super professional when he usually would act the complete opposite when you two were in the lab alone. This wasn’t Mark, this was the leader of NCT, this was someone who didn’t love you. This was someone who ran a mafia group, this was not someone to fall in love with. He stopped texting you and only called you for weaponry matters. You were working on data statistics for weapons and you couldn’t keep your mind off last night and this morning. You then eventually got to thinking about why it seemed that you were just another worker as you were before, three years ago. Until it hit you.

What if he forgot about me?

What if he forgot about us?

←previous chapter next chapter→

follow me to get updates on the series!

~n ✧*:·ﾟ

196 notes · View notes

psychedelic-freak-out · 6 years

Note

What are you addicted to?

Started with music, then turned to me aggressively smoking pot, tripping way more than I should have, then prescription medications I messed with for a while, getting vicodin for a wrist surgery at 14. When I graduated coke was a big thing in my town, so many people were doing it but most of it is really shitty and just gave me an even stronger urge to do other things. At this point my twin sister had already overdosed on heroin the night of our prom, my dad and I had revived her, but she still struggled with her boyfriend who had been an addict for years at that point. I was so hateful towards hard drugs after that, but I ended up going through a really hard time in my life, dealing with a break up, working two jobs and losing my childhood home all in a short time, I moved in with a guy I had been friends with since I was 14 and he was about 2 years deep into his addiction already. I was almost 19 the first time I tried heroin, and I remember instantly knowing it was a feeling I didnt want to live without. I told myself I could actually moderate it, and I did for awhile. I quit my second job and stayed at the same one for around 3 years actually, functioning on drugs for the better part of a year, keeping it my secret from all but maybe 3 people and the people I met through drugs. That was so dangerous, living life like that in secret. Not to mention everything in MA was quickly turning to fentanyl, which is more addictive than morphine, and way more likely to make you overdose, plus narcan/naloxone doesnt always help- my sister needed like 3 when she OD’d, and I’ve heard of people needing more. H quickly changed me, made me bitter towards anything that wasn’t it, even though it was a constant battle with H itself. I told myself I wasn’t hurting others because they didnt even see me doing the things I did, because “I only stole from stores, not the people I loved”, because addiction will tell you anything to keep you in that animalistic “survival” state as my boyfriend and I call it. But basically about a year into doing harder drugs, one night I made the awful mistake of mixing what my friend told me was “liquid xanax” (basically just research chemicals), H, and alcohol, I went from being out and about with my friend, to waking up starfished on my parents front lawn, my head cracked open from me falling into the front cement stairs, me getting up to greet my parents because I couldn’t even feel my head, let alone realize how messed up I was. My mom literally laid in bed next to me and held me the whole night, and I had no idea until she told me the next morning. A day or so later, I remember I had to work all day and I was going through withdrawals towards the end of the day and of course was freaking out trying to figure out how to pickup. I figure out a plan and my boyfriend at the time who was also my manager at work was gonna bring me home from work that day and I was gonna pull my usual “oh I don’t feel good” or whatever so he’d drop me off and not know what I was up to, but I was stupid when I was stuck in that mindset and I can’t believe I thought I could hide it from him or my parents. I got home to an intervention with him and my parents, and an hour later was on my way to a detox in Boston. Freaking out because I was sick, I chugged the rest of the liquid nightmare stuff, and stumbled my way through my first night of detox, which wasn’t much considering I got there late at night. I remember waking up in so much pain the first day though, and everyone there looking at me like “you don’t look as happy as you did!” and me just thinking “I met you??” and realizing I was all alone in a well-known detox on Mass Ave (one of the worst places for drugs in Boston). It was the scariest and hardest week of my life. I did a methodone detox because I was way too sick and weak to try anything else, and I remember I actually came out of detox sicker than I went in because of it, which only pushed me further into my addict mindset, telling me “suboxone! get on the clinic!”- another wrong choice for me. Medical Assisted Treatment can help so so many people, don’t get me wrong. Like with everything, it depends on the person. Suboxone is a synthetic opiate, basically acting to get rid of physical withdrawal symptoms, and works as a blocker in your brain and makes it so you cannot get high on opiates. I ended up being on the clinic for 6 months which started out great, but soon turned into just another addiction. The clinic prescribed me a way higher dose than I needed, which made it super easy for me to sell or trade the subs for other drugs or cash. Not to mention it was just another thing I had to wake up and take every day, and you get sick if you don’t. Another prescription to fill and pickup weekly, biweekly, monthly. I ended up relapsing and after a few months of not talking, the friend since 14 that I had used with for my first time, and who I tried to help get clean so many times, was finally clean. And it hit me like a ton of bricks- he sounds so amazing, he looks so fucking good, and he sounds like HIMSELF again- the kid I fell in love with SIX years ago, before all the insane shit we went and put ourselves through. It took detoxing in jail for a month and getting put on probation, but the fact that he was THANKFUL for that and looking at this as an opportunity to build a new and even better him, was so inspiring to me. I went from basically the streets and living at dealers houses, to moving back in with him to focus on recovery, and I can’t even begin to explain how rewarding it has been. Recovery will always be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with, but I also have to be honest and say I do not regret doing any of it. Anything and everything can be a learning experience, its just how you look at it and what you do with it. My addiction is once again music and art- I’ve made goals to learn something new everyday, to find new music, to learn lyrics, to get better with my memory. I’m planning my future and it looks so exciting, even though I’ve officially had to start over with NOTHING. My clothes all got stolen and lost, I had sold every bong, pipe, art piece, everything I cared about. I even lost my wallet and social security at one point, and I can’t begin to tell you how awful that felt. But I kept going, and things aren’t rapidly getting better, but I realize you get what you put into things, you have to make the daily decision to want to be better, it doesn’t just happen. And for anyone curious, I did detox from suboxone and my boyfriend and I are full supporters and advocators of VIVITROL/NALTREXONE. There are pills you can take daily, but I highly recommend getting the monthly shot in your ass, because this stuff has the amazing benefit of blocking opiates and making it so you can’t get high, but is completely not addictive or dependable, no physical symptoms occur.Thankyou so much to anyone who takes the time to read this, I’ve been wanting to post something like this for awhile but quite honestly I’ve been trying really hard to focus on myself in order to be able to at all be useful to others lol proud of everyone who woke up today though, and a huge rest in peace to those who might not, and to those I know who haven’t made it. My inbox is always open- I haven’t had my own phone for the better half of a year so I may not answer right away, but I will always try.

#me #text #recovery #heroin recovery #crack reovery #drug reovery #addiction #addiction support #fuck heroin

575 notes · View notes