#mentions of addiction to drugs and alcohol

[paulic]

Ok this is what I think the biopics will be like for each Beatle:

John will be so troubled but in a really charming way and Julian will be mentioned but briefly and they’ll make it seem like John was just too busy to be a present father (Paul will make up for it in a vomit inducingly cheesy way). His eating disorder, heroin addiction and other internal struggles (self-esteem, sexuality, maybe even gender,…) will go unmentioned or brushed over jokingly like haha he tossed Brian off, don’t we all at that age. He’ll be the cool and funny older brother & later genius who just couldn’t be confined within a band. They won’t have the guts to call his bullshit and therefore will automatically brush over his kinder and vulnerable sides. He’ll be reduced to a knock off version of the tortured artist blueprint. They’ll never pick up on his pathetic wet dog vibe

Paul will be the charming good guy who’s all in with the band. No mention of how he fucked over Jane and every other girl until Linda; he’ll be a musical genius, too, but in a prince of the people sort of way. They’ll loooove that he stopped eating meat, woke king!!!! Linda will be brushed over by making her into his soulmate wifey who finally helps the charming playboy with a heart of gold settle down. His depression and alcohol problem won’t be mentioned/reduced to feeling a little sad. He’ll be a little bossy sometimes but they won’t ever get it right how fucking annoying he could be. Straighter than a ruler. John’s brother, almost biologically. No homo. They’ll find a way to make the twink who fucked the entire population and had an ego bigger than Neptune into a straight feminist

George will be the indie underground smart Beatle and people on tik tok will start posting thirst traps of the actor with the caption “they don’t make em like this anymore” and then complain about real-George’s teeth. He’ll be so spiritual and smart and he won’t have an affair with his best friend’s wife at all and if he does it’ll be because of some spiritual insight, not because that man couldn’t keep it in his pants for 5 seconds. I’m deadly afraid of the colourful drug scenes where he’ll hallucinate god. He’ll be the perfect boyfriend and Pattie will be played by Sidney sweeney or something. They won’t take a side with the whole George Or Paul debate during the breakup, but George will be too focused on other things to want to stay in the Beatles. They won’t mention the three billion songs John&Paul deemed unworthy. They’ll never do the grudges my man held justice. No one could

Ringo will be the funny guy who luckily survived his childhood and found his passion through a kind nurse giving him his drumsticks. He’ll play an incredible drum solo at 8 years old on his hospital bed frame the first time he ever holds those sticks. He won’t be in gangs, he won’t beat his wife half to death, he won’t have drugs and alcohol problems. He’ll be peace and love from age 0. He’ll be slightly stupid and he’ll mention octopuses too much. They’ll never get it right how he was truly the eldest and how much his vote and opinion actually counted within the band and how much the boys wanted him in the band and admired him. He won’t be a sort of glue to the band. He won’t marry a teenager he met when she was 16 and he 22. He’ll be a weird version of Ken from the Barbie movie, his job will be Drum. They’ll flatten a severely nuanced and layered man to a sheet of paper with the word ‘beat’ on it

I am too afraid to even think about what they will do to Eppy

Oh and each and every one of them will have way too pretty teeth and I am already furious. I want them to have British men in the 1960s teeth. Give me British teeth and jerking off together

#mark my words people. #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #classic rock #beatles #richard starkey #brian epstein #beatles biopics #emmys thoughts

[helluvabossrewrite45]

Hazbin Hotel Rewrite; Opening up at the Bar

From what I seen from hh with how it handles sa topics, it's very...questionable. Now the show hasn't still come out yet so I won't go into detail about it, but with how they use the song 'poison' and behind the scenes of it (viv making a sex joke as marketing the song and the lead storyboard shipping val x angel despite what it's meant to portray in canon) makes it understandable for people to critque the show's portrayal of it. So for here, I want to approach Angel's truama as respectfully as I can with Angel opening up to Husk as it seems to be the same episode where both of them improve their relationship. I hope I'm able to address sa well because I know it's a very delicate topic that shouldn't be written lightly (especially for truama responses like hypersexuality) so if you have any problems with how I written it and how I should change it, please let me know. I will rewrite it until I portray this topic properly and credit you for your critque/help (unless you don't want to)

Content Warning; SA and mention of drug/alcohol addiction

A bar full of bottles and boozes sitting there in windless silence, aching for their next customer. Its emptiness is numbing, the stranded desert of this hotel. Husk, tapping his fingers in rhythm, halts it as though the ticking of a clock stops and sighs in relief, grateful that his work is now done. He takes a bottle of booze, fulfilling its fate as he opens the lid to drain it all down, until he hears the door creaking. 

He groans “Oh it’s you,” as Angel Dust drags himself towards the bar, collapsing his face to the poseur table. “What do you want now? Bar’s gonna close soon. So hurry up.” 

Angel’s face tilts up. “A drink, please.” His voice is soft yet hoarse.

Husk rolls his eyes, wishing for that sweet graveness to enter this bar once again. He goes through his bottles. “Which one?” He asks with a hostile glare.

“Any.”

Angel Dust slowly lifts himself up from the table, staring in discomfort at Husk grabbing a random bottle from his shelf, a sense of dread lingers onto him. 

“Husk…” His voice grows quiet.

“What?”

“I’m…sorry.” His eyes not meeting Husk’s gaze. 

“For what?” He responds snappily, placing one hand to his hip.

“For earlier…” Angel answers, his eyes still refusing to see Husks. “For saying and doing all those weird things to you, I'm sorry.”

His grouchy face still remains. “Whatever,” firmly placing the bottle to the table and swishing it towards Angel. “Don’t do that again.”

“Yeah,” his body tenses, “I hope so…”

Husk brows raised. “Hope so? What do you mean?”

The question hangs on as Angel Dust fiddles their hands, looking down at the wooden dry floor. The room has been fogged in silence as Husk finds himself repeatedly tapping his fingers, wondering when the clock will finally end its grating tick. 

“Well…” His voice quivers, tracing his eyes back to Husks. “I don’t know…”

Husk’s face turned puzzled. “The hell you mean you don't know?!” 

“I-” Angel pauses himself for a moment, “I don't know. I just don’t know.” His face bangs on the table as his arms come to cover.

“Ah well, might just be a you problem then.” He cackles at his own joke, with hollow applause. 

Angel huffs, “That’s what you all think.” His voice became more irritated. 

Husk’s laughter abrupt into cold stillness, his voice freezes with the rest of his body. 

Angel continues, “All of you think i’m just some dirty sex pest, huh? A running sex joke?” Anger starts to rise through his voice, “Even Charlie thinks what I do is just who I am- like I chose this!” He cuts himself off, facing down to the lifeless floor again. “Like I chose this…”

Husk words vanished, his voice having trouble coming out of his mouth. All he could do is stand there, watching Angel Dust ponder through his thoughts. 

“You know I don’t actually like being sexual twenty-four seven? Crazy right?” He formed a smile, though not by sweetness, but by bitterness. “I don’t actually like making endless sex jokes or dirty talk, I don’t actually like to constantly fantasise or masturbate or sleep around with a bunch of nobodies,” bitterness starts to spread through his voice, “and I especially don’t like working in that place!” He holds his breath, exhaling to serene air. “But I do it anyway, no matter how hard I try.” His finger scratched the table harshly with a melancholic frown. “I don’t know what is wrong with me, I didn’t used to be like this, it was only after-” Angel cuts himself off as his body starts trembling. He places a heart on his hand, feeling the rapid sounds of his heartbeat. “After…” He slows himself, unable to muster anything else to speak of. 

His eyes lift to Husk, seeing the statue that he became, his widened pupils not even taking one blink. Angel’s face rose with worry, “Oh uh…sorry.” He murmurs. “Sorry, I’ll just take the booze or-”

“Go on.” Husk's voice comes back again.

“W-what?” He quivers, taken aback by what he heard.

“Go on…” Husk's voice trails off, still a statue of himself.

Angel Dust pursed his lips, facing down once more. “There was a time back then, when I sneaked into a bar for some alcohol, the thing that helped me most when I was alive. There was a really fancy bottle, porcelain white shimmering with bubbles, I couldn’t help myself. I had to have it. Then he caught me, I thought he would kill me. Instead, he made a deal; that if I work in his business, I won’t need to steal anything or even need a place to stay…” He breaks off, his fingers scraping themselves to a shell. “So I worked as one of his sex workers; a stripper for his bars, an actor for his films, anything to do with sex, really. It wasn’t what I was always interested in, but it felt…better? Being more open and honest about myself that I never got to do on earth. That is, until I came back to his home…He told me he wanted to show me something, my ‘reward’...” He holds back on his words, wrapping his arms around in a warm embrace. “After that, I…I don't know, I guess that’s where I started becoming more sexual. It’s like a switch where my mind now constantly thinks about sex, even if it’s not what I want. It’s my poison.” He holds onto his words again, reflecting his thoughts. “Maybe it’s a way of control, to take back what he did to me, not letting him hurt me…but is it any good if you can’t control it yourself?” He finds himself eyeing at the bottle of toxicated liquid. “That’s why I came here, I couldn’t find any drugs. So alcohol will just have to do.”

Husk exhales a quiet breath, with Angel’s words stalling through his mind. He saw Angel reaching for the bottle. “Wait!” He alerts, taking the bottle before Angel could have the chance. Angel looks at him, confound. “Why?” Husk fell silent, wavering on his memory like a lightning struck in a bottle. He places the bottle back to its fateless place and starts rummaging through the tea bags until one reads ‘Black Caravan Tea’. He places the tea bag in a muggy cup and clicks the kettle to brew. Minutes go by as the kettle finally makes its thump, breaking Husks trance as he pours the steamy water onto the cup and gently pushes it over to Angel. “Here” He says softly. “Careful, it’s hot.” Angel slowly directs his eyes to the hot tea, then back to Husk, his mouth making a quiet gasp. “I know it’s not much,” He adds. “But for you, I hope it can be enough.”

Angel dust calmly blows the steam off his tea and takes a sip, warm smoky sweetness filling his mouth in peaceful bliss. He continues sipping it at a slow pace, enjoying each moment with him and his magical tea, transforming his mind to ocean waves, hearing its soothing whooshes and the pleasant echoes of bird’s chirping. After taking one last sip, he notices Husk with his own muggy cup, cooling off the steam before slurping down the whole tea to an empty cup. His grouchy face disappeared, replacing it with a genial smile; friendly and relaxed. Like warming his face with radiant golden sunlight. 

“What’s this?” Angel asks as soon as Husk tastes his last drop.

“Black Caravan.” Husk replies, licking his lips. “My Babushka always makes this tea, saying ‘If you get upset, don’t waste your mouth with vodka, relish it with Caravan.’” He glimpses away from Angel dust, shining a little star in his eyes before glaring at the shelves of bottles and boozes. “Heh, no wonder I hadn’t remembered…” 

Angel snickers. “My Nonno says something similar. He said; ‘You don’t stuff your mouth with alcohol, you stuff it with Frittelie!’” They both chuckle with each other, reminiscing of their old lives before the room went to silence. Both eyes looking away from each other as Angel proceeds to fiddle with his hands and Husk tapping his table, now only slow and with no rhythm. A clock’s final strikes till midnight. “You know,” He spoke solemnly. “After you're done with work and all, instead of finding drugs, you can come straight here to talk or have some tea. Either one or both to get off some steam.” 

Angel glances back to Husk’s sentimental gaze, his eyes lit up. “You’ll…You’ll do that?”

“Yeah.” He responds, keeping his gaze to Angel Dusts. “I’d do. For you…”

Their eyes locked in their gazes, their beating hearts twined to one another. Angel’s eyes turn away from the burning faint shades of pink of his face, looking steadily at the cup. “Yeah,” a small line shaped to a tender smile, “I’d like that.”

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin critical #hazbin criticism #hazbin critique #hazbin hotel rewrite #tw sa #tw sa mention #tw sa implied #tw drug use #tw drug addiction #tw drug mention #tw alcohol #tw alcohol addiction #tw alchohol mention

[whumpshaped]

you‘ve absolutely re-awakened my love for drugged whumpees! what about a whumpee drugging themselves as a bad coping mechanism? maybe even specifically with a feel-good drug (because i loved those drabbles)! but this time a friend is there to take care of them and make sure they are safe, maybe they got some concerning messages from whumpee and went to visit them.

also because i am afraid of you and your angst (/positiv) please let this be comfy i am always in need of comfort

tw drugs, addiction, past trauma, alcohol mention

i love you sooo much

ive never had such a good friwnd u know that?

ur fucking awesome and we shuld hang out more

As touched as Caretaker was reading the messages, they didn’t sound like Whumpee in their usual state. They rarely ever got sappy like this, and they never resorted to the abbreviations unless they were too drunk to see the keyboard. There was something going on, and Caretaker hoped it was just a couple shots of vodka — despite it being 10 am.

“Hey, Whumpee?” They knocked on the door again, louder this time. “Can we hang out, like, right now? I brought some food.”

That was a bit of a stretch, but the door opened soon after they’d mentioned it. “That’s awesome,” they slurred, their excited grin faltering when they saw no bags in Caretaker’s hands. “Where’s it…?”

“I lied,” they said easily, gently guiding Whumpee back inside. “But I brought myself, and I can make you some food in a bit. Before that, though… Drinking in the morning again, are we?”

Whumpee gave them a sheepish smile, the promised free meal entirely forgotten. “Y’know how it is,” they said, giggling a little. “Some days y’just gotta… feel alive…”

Caretaker frowned. This felt different from when Whumpee was drunk. “What did you have?”

“Ah, just… just a bit of this and that…”

They stepped closer and cupped Whumpee’s face, taking a good look at their eyes. That didn’t look very promising. “Whumpee, did you take something?”

“Noooooo…” Whumpee tried to swat their hands away, with little success due to how uncoordinated their movements were. “No, you’re– you’re misunderstanding, ’m just… just happy to see you. Your pupils dilate when you look at someone you looove...”

Caretaker sighed. “I would like you to honestly tell me what you’ve taken. Please. I won’t judge, I won’t be mad, all I want is to stay here and take care of you, okay?”

It was like Whumpee didn’t even hear them. They kept nuzzling against Caretaker’s hands, almost purring as they did so. “You’re so warm…”

“Sure am.” They poked their cheek. “Whumpee, listen to me.”

“Would you ever kiss me?” they asked abruptly, unfocused eyes now fixed on Caretaker’s lips. “‘cause I really wanna kiss right now… Just once…”

Well, that wasn’t a direct answer to their previous questions, but it might as well have been. There was one drug they knew of that made Whumpee act like this, one they’d said they had quit months ago.

The one Whumper had gotten them hooked on.

“You wanna kiss me, specifically?” Caretaker knew well that Whumpee didn’t see them as anything other than a friend, and they weren’t the type to be going around kissing people platonically.

“Mmm, yeah… You’re a good kisser, I’m sure… I can tell stuff like that…”

Yeah, they’d definitely taken Whumper’s drugs. Fantastic. Apparently there was still someone out there who was supplying Whumpee, but that was a problem for another day.

“Tell you what,” they started gently. “Instead of kissing, we’ll go to the kitchen and I’ll make you some of your favourite food.”

Whumpee lit up instantly. “Deal!”

Caretaker kissed them on the forehead and led them to one of the chairs, making sure they were comfortable before walking over to the cupboards. They were going to have to keep Whumpee talking, so they could track their movements inside the house; they were prone to wandering whenever they were high, and they couldn’t keep staring at them while cooking.

In all honesty, there was not much Caretaker could do now that Whumpee had already taken the thing. They couldn’t even do much about the addiction itself that seemed to be ruining any semblance of a chance of a full recovery. But there was one thing they could do, and that was supervising their friend whenever the need arose.

#asks #whump #whump drabble #alcohol mention #addiction whump #recovery fic #rocky recovery #comfort #past trauma #drugs

[poisonedapples]

Unpopular opinion apparently, but alcohol and drug dependency or addiction can happen at any age. While it’s common for young adults and teens to experiment with alcohol and drugs, there is no minimum age requirement to be addicted. And acting like it’s not a problem, just because you’re younger than 25, is absolutely detrimental.

If you’re 20 and you drink an absurd amount of alcohol until you black out about once a week, that’s not being a “college partier”, that’s binge drinking. If you regularly get wasted and can’t have fun without being drunk, that’s alcohol dependency. And it’s not a pretty game. No matter your age, do NOT take substance use lightly and think that you’re exempt from addiction just because you’re young. You’re not.

If you show any signs of becoming a little too reliant on alcohol or other drugs to enjoy yourself, quit while you’re ahead. It’s time to start cutting back and taking the issue seriously instead of treating it as no big deal just because of your age. It’s not cute, it’s not “just experimenting”, and it’s not funny either.

Addiction ruins lives, don’t pretend like you’re immune just because of your age. Acting like you’re fine will be your first mistake.

#bird chirps #alcohol mention #alcohol #drug use mention #addiction #I work with a lot of young adults now and the things I hear are so goddamn scary #Hot take but your story of all the times you got so wasted you almost died arent funny #You need to see a therapist

[denniisa]

okay so i'm going to go off about this scene from season 7 episode 4 ( sweet dee gets audited ). first of all i am going to start off by saying this is a half silly, half serious conversation. yes, they are talking about getting laid but i think you can learn a lot about dennis from this scene. i will be writing out what is said in the video but i highly encourage watching it if you have the time ( it's just a couple minutes long ) because there's something about dennis' tone and frank's tone in it that is very very important.

okay first of all let's just take a look at the beginning of the conversation between dennis and frank here.

dennis: it’s important to me frank !!  and i know what’s important to you is money and power but i don’t want real power because with real power comes real responsibility and i don’t want any of that shit !! i just want the money and the illusion of power … and puss.  frank: what !?

first things first, this is the closest we get to dennis admitting that he likes the illusion of power, not actual power. he often manipulates people to get control over a situation, get the power, keep the power, ect. he wants all of this power and control without the real responsibility behind it. i think that dennis doesn't want the real responsibility because it actually means showing up, caring for people. he had an incredibly difficult time expressing and processing his emotions and that's not even a headcanon. he has admitted that in canon.

something that is really interesting to me is that frank is genuinely confused by his answer, and he really wants to know what dennis is thinking. frank and dennis have an incredibly complicated relationship. this is the man he thought was his father for 30+ years, the man that raised him ( quite terribly mind you ). this is a man that has traumatized him over and over again and frank is actually wanting to hear him out. dennis pushes back, doesn't want to talk about his emotions, but frank pushes him. and then we get this.

dennis: hell i don’t know frank, i don’t know man. frank: what ?? tell me, tell me.  dennis: i need something. i mean i got this uh ... this giant gaping hole inside me. and i’m always trying to fill it with something.  i like to call it uh … my uh god hole. and i think a lot of people in this world they … they fill it with religion but i don’t believe in god.  frank: but you wanna fill it with pussy ?? dennis: yeah.

i'm gonna get into the meat of this in a second but i want to talk for a moment about how sincere frank is here. he is actually trying to understand dennis more, he's actually wanting to listen and learn and help. instead of just pushing dennis away, saying he doesn't get it, he pushes. he even puts his arm on dennis when he ways "tell me". i think this really shows that in some warped way, frank cares so much for dennis and loves him. i think frank is honestly trying to make amends for all the times that he was absent in dennis' childhood. he didn't give dennis an opportunity to talk about his feelings in the past, but he's giving him the opportunity to talk about it now. because yeah, dennis is talking about wanting to get pussy, but it's clear that he is distressed. so instead of just joking around and talking about getting laid, frank wants to listen.

now we are gonna jump back a little bit to season one because i think it's important. in season 1 episode 2 dennis is having a conversation with his sister, dee.

dee: are you actually going to throw away all your convictions for a chance to get laid ?? dennis: i don't really have any convictions.

dennis is known for being this master of women. he's charming, attractive, and can get pretty much any woman to sleep with him if he wants to. it doesn't matter what it takes, he will do it. i believe that part of this is a mask that he puts on, a role he thinks he needs to play because that's what men do. they get laid and brag about it and talk about their body count and how impressive it is. i do not think this is what dennis wants.

back to my original point.

dennis is chasing after some feeling of being whole by sleeping with people over and over again and it just never comes. he feels empty, hollow. he is trying to fill this "god hole" with anything, anything that gives him validation and temporary relief. so he fills it with sex, alcohol, crack, whatever will give him his fix. he lives with mac, someone that is so full of faith and chases after gods validation. dennis cannot find that validation in religion. i just think it's so interesting and how difficult it must be for dennis at times to listen to mac go on and on about how great god is when to dennis he feels like god failed him. like there is no god to begin with because if there was why would he feel so empty and why would so many terrible things have happened to him ??

dennis reynolds is an empty person. he is broken and hollow and he doesn't know how to fix it, he doesn't know what to do. he has no idea how to get help. he continues to surround himself with people that perpetuate this cycle of self destruction. the whole gang is broken, they all are seeking comfort in vices to get them through the day. i think, for some of them, they do not realize that this is what they are doing. i think dennis is fully aware of this self destructive cycle he is trapped in. he recognizes it, but he doesn't know how to get out, or what to fill his emptiness in that is healthy and safe.

#long post // #SORRY THIS GOT LONG #suggestive text // #drug mention // #alcohol // #addiction // #introspection. #religion // #ask to tag.

[real-godzekiel]

shut the fuck up i'm figuring things out

opal doods

translations: 30多岁成年人->30+ year old grown adult 6岁小号->6 year old kid 我还在学习啊！->I'm still learning!! 想吃早饭-> wantsto eat breakfast

面包+土豆+火腿+白菜->bread+potato+ham+cabbage 水->water

translation：抱抱->huggy

know this might imply that i think grandpa is mom's dadbut some people call their father- in-law dad so i guess it's really up to interpretation. i've been thinking about what side that grandpa is on for many days, still haven't figured out anything. but i do think mom hates grandpa in some way

still think my way of drawing MM's face is off... (still too tumblr sexyman) maybe next time i'll try giving him a interesting head shape like the rest of the characters

#jack stauber's opal #opal jack stauber #jack stauber #jack stauber fanart #opal wine mom #opal mirror man #opal grandpa #opal claire #tw body horror #tw scars #tw drug addiction mention #tw alcoholism mention

[suicideenthusiast]

// TWS; (EDUCATIONAL) MENTION OF DRUGS, "HARD DRUGS"

// What's the difference between a 'hard drug' and a soft drug?

These aren't medical terms, so there isn't a set definition. However, 'hard drugs' are considered more harmful and addictive than soft drugs, and often illegal to take. Some examples of hard drugs include:

Cocaine (most often* illegal, can be used medically in rare cases)

Heroin (most often illegal)

Ketamine (can be both illegal and legal depending on medical circumstance and seller)

Ecstasy (most often illegal)

PCP (can be both legal and illegal depending on area, circumstance, and seller)

Opioids (most often legal)

*Most often = while still dependent on circumstance, most areas have it full stop illegal/legal

Examples of 'soft drugs' include:

Alcohol (legal practically everywhere)

Nicotine (legal practically everywhere)

Marijuana, aka weed (dependent on area)

'Soft drugs' are usually given this name because they are either socially acceptable to take or generally legal. Both soft drugs and hard drugs can be addictive, and the medical field does not use these terms because it implies severity depending on substance.

please reblog for awareness :)

#ooc #mental health awareness #mental health #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw alcohol mention #cw drugs #cw alcohol #awareness #cw addiction #educational

[fella-lovin-fella]

having a long line of addicts in your family is crazy bc I'll be like "ooh maybe i'll have a few cocktails and smoke some weed tonight" and immediately go "what's next? meth?? crack???" like girl it's fine.

#it's important to pay attention to your habits #even if you dont have addiction in uour family #but i have GENERATIONS of alcoholism and hard drug addiction #so it's def something i have to be aware of #plus i did have an alc and drug problems when i was a teen #tw addiction #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw alchohol mention #alcohol mention #not mlm #dantes talking again

[cannibalsamruby]

#poll #relationships #tw drug addiction #tw alcoholism #tw abuse mention

[gaysexdungon]

Any druggies wanna be friends on discord so we can talk about drugs together

About me: I am 18, love to write, love death cab for cutie, any pronouns, love plushies, also insane but sweet

Drugs I take: ecstasy, weed, alcohol, adderall/adhd meds, benzos, opiates, cough syrup (otc)

I want to talk about drugs with someone but non drug users find it uncomfortable

DM for discord don’t be a creep

#drugblr #narcotics drugs #tw hard drugs #drugs mention #boys who do drugs #drugs tw #drug junkie #girls who do hard drugs #ecstacy #dxm #popping pills #happy pills #xanax pills #xanax addiction #xanax bars #blue xanax #benzodiazepine #benzo baby #adderal xr #adderal ir #addiction tw #opiaddict #opium #opiods #girls who smoke weed #weedlife #smoke weed everyday #alcohol #tw drinking #drinking

[quietly-by-myself]

An Earthly Cosmological Redshift - Chapter 10

Masterlist

CW: mafia whump, captivity whump, vampire whumpee, vampire whumper, woman carewhumper, drug/alcohol use mention, noncon drugging, head injury, mentioned addiction, concussion, emeto, fainting, intimate whumper, outdated language about the LGBTQIA+ community, mentioned consensual spice, sleep deprivation, starvation, needles

===

Whenever Fearon felt empty, he found himself turning to his vice. Well, perhaps he had more than one vice. Alcohol. Benzos. Men. He’d always had that hole in his heart that he filled with the superficial. He’d lost himself so many times in vice. Betrayed himself. Thrown the good in his life away. For what? Temporary pleasure, relief?

He’d only come to see his vice for what it really was when he met Jules. 

However, sitting in that cell, completely unable to see anything, relying only on his hearing to know what was happening, he found himself longing for his pills. They wouldn’t cure his blindness. They wouldn’t help him find Jules. But, they would help him find escape, if only for a little while. 

Fearon could hear Archimedes’ mocking voice in his head. For some reason, that voice always transformed into Archimedes. Archimedes or…

Galileo.

Did he do it on purpose? Had he given Fearon those pills to help keep him subservient? Had he manipulated Fearon into complacency? Or had it really been to help him? Had Fearon really just been too weak to break the habit once he started feeling better?

Fearon didn’t know, but the thought bothered him. 

Rather suddenly, Fearon heard footsteps. He wasn’t restrained - his chemical restraints had since worn off. He could fight back. But he couldn’t. He was blinded. He couldn’t know where the vampire coming to see him was. 

There wasn’t anything that could cure silver in the eyes of a vampire - Fearon himself had done it to others, traitors. It was one of the marks the Galilei Clan left on them. 

That was what he was now, wasn’t it? He was the ultimate traitor.

“Feeling sorry for yourself, Fearon?”

It was Archimedes.

“Could ask you the same thing, Archimedes.”

Archimedes growled a little. Getting under Archimedes’ skin was an easy task, but not one that Fearon thought was wise. 

“I know you well, old friend.” The footsteps got closer. Fearon felt little ripples in the gravity around him, but he couldn’t quite identify what they were. “You’re weak. Mentally and physically.”

Archimedes jerked Fearon’s head up by his hair, though it was rather futile. It wasn’t like Fearon could look him in the eyes. He didn’t know where Archimedes’ eyes were.

“Even when you were just a fledgling, you got that big scar on your face from losing a fight. You’re pathetic. Then, you develop, what, post traumatic stress? From what? Being powerful, but a sniveling, pathetic fool? And turn to drugs and alcohol to fix it? I always knew you were weak. Galileo loved you, but I always knew you didn’t have what it took to be strong. But, really? Falling to that? You got one of the most powerful abilities there is and you threw it all away.”

Rage filled Fearon’s body. He grabbed onto Archimedes arm and squeezed, pouring power into his grip. Archimedes' wrist bones snapped with a loud crack. Archimedes snarled, letting go of Fearon’s hair. Fearon used the chance to take a step back, far away from Archimedes.

“Don’t you fucking dare make light of what I went through. Galileo was the one who gave me the goddamn pills.”

Archimedes ran and threw a sharp punch at Fearon’s face. Fearon fell to the ground, tasting blood in his mouth. He reached up to his face, feeling the raw heat.

“What you went through?! What about how you left our Clan? What about how you left me and Hypatia? We loved you like family, Fearon, and you betrayed us.”

“Getting someone addicted to benzodiazepines is not love. I’m not of the Galilei Clan anymore. It isn’t my Clan. You aren’t my family.”

Another punch that made Fearon’s neck pop. This time, Fearon fell back and hit his head, hard, on the wall. 

“He was trying to help you, Fearon. He was so worried about you. What, were you two lovers or something?”

Fearon was quiet for a moment. “It was how he turned me. We hooked up after a night at a bar.”

Archimedes scoffed. “I’ve never had a problem with you being a homosexual. I don’t care. But, do you always have to have such shit taste? Galileo isn’t exactly the marriage type.”

“Some of us aren’t made for marriage, Archimedes.”

“You seem pretty set on it with that boyfriend we tortured. He had his engagement ring on. Screamed when Hypatia threatened to take it off.”

Fearon gritted his teeth. The back of his head was sticky-feeling. He reached a hand behind his head to notice that it was wet. He was bleeding from his skull.

Another punch came swinging, putting pressure that made Fearon yelp as Archimedes hit Fearon’s head against the wall again, right on the wound.

“What, is this all a game to you, Archimedes? Just kill me already. I know what happens to traitors.”

“Oh, I don’t intend to kill you quite yet, Fearon. I have much grander things planned for you.” Archimedes grabbed Fearon’s head and pulled him up by the hair. “I want to turn you into the perfect, subservient pet. I want to be your god. I will own you, in mind, in body, and in heart. There will be nothing left of the Fearon you once knew.”

“What, you think that’ll actually happen? I’d rather be dead,” Fearon spat.

“You’ll beg for death by the time that I’m done with you, Fearon.” Archimedes tightened his grasp in Fearon’s hair, pulling on the open wound on the back of his head. “You’ll wish I’d killed you here. Only when you think your life is over, that there’s nothing left of you except what I determine is proper and fine, will I kill you. You’ll have hell to pay first.”

Fearon wanted to spit at Archimedes. Fearon wanted to grab onto his wrist, to snap his neck with all the force of gravity that he could muster. However, he needed to play Archimedes’ game. He needed to be wise. He needed that rational head he used to have, way back when Archimedes was a pest, not an adversary.

So, he stayed silent. He knew that if he spoke, Archimedes would just find a way to use his words against him. Nothing could change Archimedes’ mind. He was always stubborn, always set in his ways. Once his mind was made up, little could change it.

Then again, Fearon was probably the pot calling the kettle black. There wasn’t a way to be an underboss without being steadfast, without being able to be decisive and unwavering. 

Had that changed?

Fearon wasn’t sure. He wished he could ask Jules.

Archimedes wrenched Fearon up by his hair, pinning him to the wall.

“Speak to me, Fearon. I want to hear your pathetic voice.”

Again, Fearon stayed silent. There was always a choice to fight - that was something that Galileo had taught him. As much as he resented the lesson, Fearon knew that it was true. He could fight in silence.

It wasn’t long before Archimedes’ hand knotted in Fearon’s hair. Fearon felt a sharp pain on the back of his head and heard a crack. The hand in his hair let go, leaving Fearon to slump against the wall. Nothingness surrounded Fearon as footsteps left the room.

—

The back of Fearon’s head was wet and sticky. He knew he had been bleeding from the head before, but now? It felt like he’d lost more than a little blood. In fact, his hair was sticking to his neck and back ever so slightly.

Cold pavement rubbed against his stomach, leaving the fresh blood against open air. He hadn’t fainted on his back - he knew that much.

“I was getting worried. I couldn’t rouse you.”

It was Hypatia, except her voice was thousands of times louder than usual. Fuck. Archimedes had given him a concussion or some sort of brain damage.

His neck ached as he tried to move his head as though he were still sighted. 

“I’m a vampire. I can’t die.”

“Doesn’t mean that you can’t be fucking miserable for years.”

She was right about that. Hypatia was one of the people in the Galilei Clan that Fearon could admit he was wrong to.

He could. It didn’t mean that he would.

Fearon smelled it before it hit his skin. Cold alcohol stung in his open wound, making him hiss. 

“Hold still.”

“What are you trying to do, then?” Fearon sounded far more defensive than he’d intended.

“Patch you up, idiot.” Hypatia let out a heavy sigh. “Archimedes ordered it. I don’t understand why I have to nanny you. You’re the one who went and pissed him off. You know Archimedes has a temper, yet you make the same stupid decisions you made when the old Boss was alive.”

Hypatia continued on but her words eventually faded into noise. Noise noise noise noise noise. Noise that grew blurrier and blurrier. Noise that got replaced with a faint ringing that might’ve been there before but that he’d just noticed.

Noise that made his stomach flip.

A minute later, Fearon pushed himself up, earning a cry from Hypatia, and vomited. 

Hypatia’s hands were on him immediately, rolling him over onto his side as he vomited again and again. By the time he was done, everything in his mouth, his throat, even his stomach was burning. 

“Shit. It’s worse than I thought.”

All Fearon could manage was a groan. His brain was full of cotton balls. With each passing minute, he felt worse and worse.

The next moments grew blurry, out of focus even. What he remembered was some vague touch, some words, but none of it specific, none of it… real.

When he “came to,” he felt bandages around his head. His back wasn’t full of sticky blood. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, but it made sense somehow. Maybe that was how the blood came off. 

He thought more about it.

That was definitely how the blood came off.

“Fearon, can you understand me?”

“Yes, Hypatia.”

“I told you that I respect you and that was why I wasn’t torturing you. However, the boss ordered me to do something. I can’t ignore a direct order like that, but I can warn you. Archimedes isn’t going to let you sleep. He has someone coming to inject you with medicine every few hours to ensure that you can’t. He’s also going to starve you. I don’t know when any of it will end. But I respect you and I think you deserve warning.”

Fearon’s head was spinning. What did it all mean? What did she mean? Someone was going to inject him with what? Stimulants? He hated that shit. 

“Are you giving me the first dose, then?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I won’t be doing anything else for Archimedes, though.”

Fearon swallowed and nodded. Somehow, he felt like he should be more scared, but he just felt tired. His head was pounding more than any of his hangovers, worse than when he went clean. 

He didn’t have much time to react as a needle plunged into his arm. Fearon flinched and held back a small whimper. The needle made him shake a little.

“I’m sorry, Fearon. You should’ve been Boss. None of this would’ve ever happened if you hadn’t run away. You only have yourself to blame.”

===

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @whumpsday, @pigeonwhumps, @oddsconvert, @sparrowsage, @darkthingshappen, @honeycollectswhump

#whump #whump writing #whump fic #whump community #mafia whump #captivity whump #vampire whumpee #vampire whumper #woman carewhumper #drug/alcohol use mention #noncon drugging #head injury #mentioned addiction #concussion #emeto #fainting #intimate whumper #whumpblr #fearon oc #archimedes oc #hypatia oc #outdated language #carewhumper #vampire caretaker #an earthly cosmological redshift #starvation #sleep deprivation #needles

[hcmmersnstrings]

[ dylan o'brien, cis-male, he/him ] — whoa! DAKOTA LOVE just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for TWO YEARS, working as a/an ELECTRICIAN AND PART TIME BARTENDER. that can’t be easy, especially at only 31 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit APATHETIC and TEMPERMENTAL , but i know them to be CALM and NON-JUDGEMENTAL. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to LOWER MANHATTAN! — (binx, 30, mst, she/her, n/a)

vibes and wanted plots

Name: Dakota Love Nicknames: None Age: Thirty One Date of birth: March 21 1993 Birth place: Stearns, KY Occupation: Electrician and part time bartender Romantic/sexual orientation: heterosexual // heteroromantic

ABOUT.

Aesthetics: the cherry of a cigarette burning against a dark night sky, palm calluses, guitar string scars, smoky bar rooms, low lit rooms, steady heartbeat, tattered jeans, honey thick drawls, the pain of wasted potential, the promise that the sun will rise again

HISTORY:

tw: drugs/drug use cw, prison sentence mention, poverty

Poor boy from a poor family in a poor town, there weren't a lot of options for Dakota to succeed. His mother was a young, single mom with a string of partners that filtered in and out of his life from a young age.

One of these suitors stuck and when he was still relatively little his mother moved them across state lines to West Virginia to be with this man. He worked in the mines so he wasn't around a lot, but when he was he was a musician.

Dakota was happy to be taught different instruments, playing along while his mother harmonized. It fostered his love for the arts. But the happiness was short lived as it always was, and eventually his mother split from this man and moved them into another town.

He would be hardpressed to remember a time his mother was sober. Especially after the move she worked multiple jobs and found multiple ways to just "take the edge off". This often left Dakota to the wayside and to fend for himself.

As he got older and realized his mother was unreliable, he took up his own odd jobs to bring money back into the house, often squirreling it away where his mother couldn't find it. Eventually, he dropped out his freshman year of high school so he could work full time as a mechanic.

They eventually moved back to Kentucky and he found work and so did she and she was sober for a bit but true to the pattern it didn't last. Trailer park to trailer park or run down apartment to rundown apartment, Dakota was still a teen and like all teens you can't stop curiosity from blossoming. Girls and late nights and smoking in the back of his pick up and drinking and being places he had no business going, there was no conductor for this train and it was off the rails.

Despite his wishes for his future, he fell down the same path as his mother and it happened before he could even realize it. At first it was just teenage experimenting. Dakota is trustworthy and this much is evident in the way he interacts with people. The folks he worked with asked him to help sell and in turn he got to take home a cut and some of his own supply. It was all an escape from the reality that was his life and the shitshow that waited for him at home. Whether it was his mother being erratic or the men he brought home picking fights with him, for a little bit, he didn't have to deal with it all. And the money was good. And the excitement of being somewhere new, of doing something dangerous was even better.

A whirlwind of years and youth lost he landed himself in prison with multiple charges including arson. He'll be the first to tell you that sure, it sucked ratting out people he thought were his friends, and sure it sucked realizing it was just more of his life lost, but what really sucked? What really made him go crazy? The withdrawal. It was hell. Worse than hell. Clarity eventually came and he settled into his new life, counting down the days until his releaes.

Dakota has never been a bad kid, just an angry one. With good behavior, he was allowed to take vocational classes and classes to get his GED. He was also allowed to join an arts group and play his music or sing in the choir. All these points earned him an early release.

He had no fucking clue what to do when he got out. Sure, he had training, but no one wanted to hire him. And all the people he knew in Kentucky still had the same problems. A brief relapse, a call from an old friend he'd met years prior brought him to New York. She let him crash on her couch and watch her apartment while she traveled for work. She put him in touch with unions and eventually all these efforts landed him a new job. A new career. A new start.

He lives in Lower Manhattan, his friend spends most of her time away so she just let him take over the second bedroom and he just pays her a portion of rent that goes towards her mortgage. Dakota toes a thin line with his drug and alcohol use, never quite falling off the edge but having a habit of dipping his toe into the water and seeing how long he can hold it.

FAST FACTS:

He still sings and plays guitar, fiddle, piano, and the banjo.

Was incarcerated when he was twenty one and released when he was twenty seven. He likes to spend his time trying to catch up on all the events he missed. He has a list of movies he's currently trying to work through.

A handyman at heart, Dakota picked up a lot of skills working from such a young age. If you need something fixed, he can probably figure it out for you.

Loves to cook but cannot bake to save his life. He will not make you breakfast in bed as he would probably burn it.

Is allergic to cats but loves them.

Hasn't spoken to his mother in years.

#boroughs.intro #just kinda tagging everything to be safe!! #drug use cw #drug use mention #tw drug use #tw incarceration #tw prison #tw addiction #addiction mention #tw alcohol

[incorrectquotesideas-deactivated]

Person A, reading the pre-written eulogy Person B wrote to them: “Hi, I’m Person A. Gee, I hope I don’t roll this eulogy up and smoke it.” Is that what you really think of me? I’m not just a drug guy, you know? I speak latin!

Person C: Yeah, sure.

Person D: Yeah, dude, you love weed, we get it.

#source: inside job #incorrect quotes #incorrect quotes prompts #tw: drug mention #incorrect quotes ideas #i get A (andre) so much fr like bitch i’m not just the addict high 24/7 who sells u stuff. i speak 3 languages. i’m a doctor #i’m a young anesthesiology progeny. know everything ab pharmacology. AND while i was learning to do surgery i was also a philosophy major #at the same time. AND WHILE HIGH 24/7! i’m better st brain surgery while high on ketamine than some ppl are sober. that should count for smt #(i’m rambling about it cause i’m drunk sorry. branching out cause morphines just too expensive rn!) #((i don’t actually do surgery while high. i have Morals i guess.)) #tw drugs #(and mostly i’m too dehydrated to do ketamine or opiates. i can’t explain i just like Feel too dehydrated sometimes) #(i touch my skin and im like. jesus i can’t have key rn or i’ll hurt all over — my knees and just whole body hurt idk — I KNOW alcohol #dehydrates u too Dont ASK me ab it idk!!!!!!)

[there-will-be-a-way]

My current roommate adopted me too. I tend to accompany her when she goes smoking and then we talk. This evening we spoke about how I've always been an addicted personality and how I just keep hopping from one addictive behavior to the next. Self harm, bulimia, weed, amphetamines, alcohol.

"And once you're done with this therapy", she asked. "What will be the next thing?" (She gets me.)

And I don't know. Tbh, these last couple of days I planned to go back to weed and amphetamines because in the day clinic they only regularly test you for alcohol. So my brain thought, "If we go back to these substances, no one will notice. They will be fine because I seem fine, and I will be fine because I won't feel a thing anymore." I already found a source where to get these substances from.

But I won't do it. No illegal stuff anymore. (I say this now.)

Yeah, what's next? What comes after this therapy? Another problem. Another clinic. It's a circle.

"And all of that because of some asshole who still controls our life", she said about the people who hurt us when we were little. So now we keep hurting ourselves in order to numb it out.

Tomorrow I'll go home for a day to test how well I'm handling my everyday life at home. My roommate will give me her number so that I can call her if things end up getting too much. She wants to ask her husband to drive me home someday so that he can take all my empty bottles and bring them to the glass containers.

I'm grateful for my community.

Today I played cards with some people from my ward and it's strange how you can understand each other without anyone explaining a damn thing. Without a single word. Among some people you don't have to try to get your point across. They just know because they've been there too.

#personal posts #tw addiction #tw drugs mention #tw alcohol mention #tw psych ward #psych ward blogging #Also #I've been through 3 different sleeping meds and still can't sleep #I had some tea #let's see if this'll help

[mettleburdened]

I've been thinking, besides law being stuck with "vitiligo" in his corazon verse, that even if he no longer has the disease, he still gets phantom pains that on some days, most of which makes him feel like he's dying all over again.

which leads him to medicate with painkillers because there's nothing there that his fruit can fix, & undoubtedly he gets hooked on them. sometimes he'll even mix them with hard liquor or wine, depending on certain parties doffy holds or if he's offered anything during dinner or any time of the day, really.

as long as he can perform his duties, both him & doffy don't really "care" how fucked up he gets.

#out of heart. #headcanons. better watch out because i'm coming for revenge #drug ment tw #drug mention #[i just feel under doffy law is still very fucked up AKCMVNBNVNN] #[i just see him getting addicted to opiates] #alcohol tw #addiction tw

[trinitycove]

What do you think of recreational drug use?

I have biases toward cocaine because of my ex-bf who was addicted to and selling it. It really affected our relationship and my mental health. I also have a lot of friends who have recovered or are recovering from addictions to it. However, I do know there are people who can use it as a party drug, not become abusive/aggravated, and who live a responsible life. I do tend to let people know at (the very few) parties I attend that I'm not comfortable around it and will just stay out of the room they use it in.

Harder drugs than that make me feel concerned for the people using them. I've known a couple people who smoked crack and I distanced myself from them mostly due to their behaviours changing and the friends they kept. Any drugs as hard or harder than that make me weary and uncomfortable. I sympathize with anyone using them and don't think they should be judged or treated less than. We need more programs and supports to help people who have addictions.

MDMA is something I myself used for a summer and even recently I tried it again. That summer I used it I wasn't well and loved it. When I used it recently, my antidepressants sort of cancelled out most of the effects and what I did feel wasn't worth the hangover and mood swings after. I also just don't feel the need to take anything like that anymore. So I'll be turning that down if I ever get offered it again.

Personally, I like to stick with weed. I smoke a few times a day, sometimes less and sometimes more. It used to be such a big part of who I was and now it's just something I do sometimes. Sure I get along with other people who smoke weed, but it's not something I care to talk about a lot like I used to. Most of my friends smoke too, but my bf gets anxiety from it.

I think alcohol should be mentioned too. In my province, having to drink to have fun is normalized to the point that drinking and driving is normalized amongst certain groups. I've known countless alcoholics who wish they could stop drinking and an ex-bf of mine had a grandfather pass from the complications related to alcoholism. I drink every now and then (once a week/every other week) and I personally prefer to just smoke weed.

I decided not to drink this past weekend because I had been in hospital just days before and I still enjoyed myself around my bf and his friend who were drinking while we watched UFC. (They watched UFC and I chatted lmao.) So I'm on my way to quitting alcohol. Alcohol is a drug and it's legal so it's recreational use is often overlooked, but it is a big issue where I live.

#me #tw drugs #tw cocaine #tw coke mention #tw mdma #tw molly #tw crack #tw alcohol #tw drug use #tw addiction #tw alcoholism #ask #alcoholism #addiction #cocaine #coke #crack #molly #mdma #cannabis #weed #alcohol #tw weed #tw cannabis #drugs