#cannabis and skin care

[gasmonkeyshop5]

Cannabis and Skin Health: How Marijuana Can Improve Your Complexion

Cannabis and Skin Health: How Marijuana Can Improve Your Complexion Cannabis and Skin Health. Cannabis has been used for centuries for its medicinal properties, and in recent years, it has gained popularity in the beauty industry for its ability to improve skin health. Cannabis contains compounds such as cannabinoids, terpenes, and flavonoids, which have anti-inflammatory and antioxidant…

[shyllamapioneer]

brown eyed girl 🍂

[hyaffiliate]

Cultivating self-affection through the calming influence of CBD. 🌿💕 Embracing your inherent value with each touch of tenderness, CBD fosters relaxation and equilibrium. Much like self-love being an ongoing voyage, CBD stands as a tranquil companion on this path. Be it a juncture of self-recognition or a moment of pause with CBD, bear in mind, it's these subtle gestures that foster profound self-care. Here's to cherishing your odyssey with self-love and the soothing essence of CBD.

Give yourself some love and check this website out!

[exorcqism]

﹆₊ 腹‧₊˚ PISSIN' ME OFF, KINJI HAKARI

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ you purposely piss hakari off. wc, 2.65K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. this is my FIRST time writing for this man so don't beat me if this is inaccurate. ty @5kstxrz for giving me this idea (that’s twin mkay)

␥ tags. drinking, smoking, smut (omg wow), play fighting, female anatomy, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3

it was evident to everyone around that your relationship with hakari was filled with passive-aggressive behavior. even though it was apparent that you both cared for each other deeply, the continuous exchange of sarcastic remarks and subtle jabs made your friends and even strangers concerned about your well-being.

the constant bickering between you two was so intense that people often wondered if you were caught in a toxic relationship that you couldn't escape from. despite the love you shared, the tension between you two was palpable and gave rise to many uncomfortable situations.

hakari was a complex individual who had a penchant for indulging in vices. he was known to be a habitual gambler, a smoker, and a drinker. within his many addictions, he had a charismatic personality that drew people towards him. one of his peculiar habits was to take bets on trivial things, such as how many times you'd would insult him before expressing affection towards him. squeezing his waist, telling him how much you love him.

"you're just full of surprises, huh?" hakari chuckles at you as he kisses your head, returning the hug you had given him. "you still got a big head, though. nothin' can change that."

"like your head isn't bigger," you sucked your teeth before flashing a smile at your boyfriend. hakari would release you and stick his middle finger up at you before plopping down onto the couch, the piece of furniture grunting as his weight pressed down onto it.

once you walked into the apartment, the sound of glass shattering caught your attention. the pungent smell of a joint filled the air, and you could see hakari holding it loosely between her fingers. as you took a few more steps, you noticed a puddle of saké on the ground, which emanated an earthy aroma. the scene appeared to be somewhat chaotic, with broken glass, the smell of cannabis and spilled alcohol adding to the disarray.

as you noticed his tan face go pale, you instinctually reached out with your hand and gently brushed your palm against his cheek, hoping to rouse him from his slumber. however, the moment your skin came into contact with his, you couldn't help but notice how icy cold he felt. you paused for a moment, your hand still resting on his cheek, as you realized that something was not quite right.

suddenly, his eyes shot open, and he stared back at you with a look of confusion and surprise, as if you had just startled him out of a deep sleep. his blonde hair was tousled and messy, and his eyes were still cloudy with sleep. nevertheless, his gaze seemed to bore into you, and you couldn't help but feel a little unnerved by his sudden awakening.

"what the hell.." hakari let out a deep groan as he pushed himself up from the couch, lightly kicking the shattered glass beneath his feet. "hey, when'd you get here?" the male asked with a hint of slurring in his speech. as he looked up at you with heavy, droopy eyes, it was clear that he had indulged in some heavy drinking. the pungent odor emanating from him was reminiscent of a dead skunk, indicating that he had gone beyond his limits.

"just now," you suddenly blinked at the male. hakari, who was sitting in front of you, noticed your sudden movement and scratched the nape of his neck before tilting his head to crack his joints. the sound of his joints echoed in the quiet room as he stretched his muscles, trying to relieve the tension from his body after sitting for so long. "are you high?"

"high off my fever," the male chuckled as you saw the vibrance come back into his magenta-colored irises before pushing himself up from the couch, running his fingers through his twisted locks. "help me clean this mess up, will ya?"

as you turned around, you caught a glimpse of Hakari shuffling towards the kitchen. he seemed to be in a hurry, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was up to. a few moments later, he emerged from the kitchen with a rag in his hand.

you could see the dampness on the rag and could smell the cleaning spray that he had used to dampen it. it was clear that he was on a mission to clean up yet another one of his spills. you decided to have a little fun with him this time and stepped back, leaving him to his own devices.

"nah, you can handle it, i'm sure," you couldn't help but smirk at the other person present in the room as hakari began to clean up the mess. as he went about the task, he paused right in the middle, his gaze fixing on you, eyebrows raised in surprise. hakari had come to expect your help whenever he made his frequent messes, and he seemed taken aback that you were not offering to help him this time. his slitted eyebrows lowered in mild irritation and let his head fall back down to the puddle of saké, continuing to clean up the mess on his own.

hakari let out a soft sigh and spoke under their breath, "okay then." his voice was barely audible as they uttered the words, almost as if they were lost in thought. it was clear that hakari was contemplating something, perhaps your sudden shift in attitude when you chose not to help him clean the saké that was spilled on the hardwood floor.

this continued for the rest of the day. you and hakari were cuddled up together in bed watching a horror movie that he suggested for the two of you to watch together before heading to sleep that night. as you both watched the film, you felt pretty and wanted to take some photos.

despite your efforts to pose for the camera, it was no secret that you struggled with it. with your phone held out in front of you at an awkward angle, you squinted at the screen and kept adjusting the position, hoping for a better shot. however, all your attempts were in vain as your little device suddenly slipped from your grasp and landed firmly in hakari's hand. with effortless ease, the male took the phone from you and began capturing a few shots, skillfully adjusting the angle and focus to create the perfect photo.

"i had it, y'know?" you furrowed your eyebrows as you snatched your phone back from him. though you were being all fussy with hakari, saying how much you didn't really need his help with posing, he couldn't help but notice how enchanting you looked with your face being illuminated by the tv while the rest of you were consumed by the darkness of the room.

"yeah, sure you did." hakari rasped before suddenly pinning you to the bed and kissing you to silence your fussing. his legs wrapped around your thighs while his hands moved up and down your sides, his grip getting tighter as the kiss grew more passionate.

his mouth traveled from your lips to your neck, and back down again, his hand roaming up your thigh. both of you had been breathing quite heavily as he held you down with his body as your lips remained locked together. hakari moved back to your neck, lightly sucking on your skin, making sure he'd leave a mark on you.

as hakari sucked on your skin, you felt him pulling down your sweatpants. once your pants had gone past your knees and down to your feet, he tossed the item onto the floor, leaving your panties exposed to him. before he could slide them down, he paused, making sure to break his pace.

"just to let you know...before this goes any further..." he began softly, his grip on your hips becoming lighter. "i don't have a condom...is that good with you?"

you nodded, "it's okay." your reply was simple and to the point. hakari seemed a bit surprised by your directness, but he had a faint grin on his lips as well.

once your panties were completely off and out of the way, he would toss them onto the floor with your pants and continue his previous process, now using his fingers to explore your sensitive area. when hakari heard your breathing picking up and your whimpering became more evident, he smirked, and his hands began moving faster.

hakari was pleasantly surprised by your response and he began to move his fingers through your gummy walls faster and more confidently after hearing your vocality. his smirk grew as he continued, his gaze locked on yours. after a few moments, he finally decided to speak to break the silence that was accompanied by the sounds of your wetness.

"you like that, huh?" he mumbled to you, keeping his digits moving at a moderate pace, but the speed at which they moved started to slow down a little. you were honestly starting to think that he would never stop.

"you know....i- can't-" you stammered as you tried to speak while simultaneously fighting off your moans of pleasure that reverberated against the walls of your bedroom. you suddenly stopped trying to talk, as you realized that it was getting harder for you to do.

hakari groaned as your sounds became louder and heavier, a blush starting to form on his cheeks. his grip tightened again, and his fingers sped up once more, as he kept his eyes locked on yours then slowing down again. "you like this...yeah?" he grunted out. "tell me how much you like it..."

his tone was a lot more flirtatious now. his hand moved in a circular motion, now adding another digit into your core.

"i like it, hakari," you said breathily, your eyebrows knitting together while you attempted to keep your composure, but it obviously hadn't been going very well for you at the moment. "i love it, actually."

hakari continued to listen to your responses, and his lips grew into a wider grin as he heard your words. his hands continued their pace as well, and after a moment of thinking, he spoke again. "mhm..." he mumbled back. "you love it, huh? good."

his grip on your waist was quite tight at this point, but he was enjoying it, judging by the wide smile that he had on his face. once again, he started to speak.

"aw, you're just so cute," he crooned, moving his hands back down between your legs. "and you're a vocal one too."

as hakari started to pick up his pace once again, enjoying the loud noises you were making. he was almost sure the neighbors heard you. he had been teasing you to the fullest, you were starting to get impatient with him.

"please, i don't want your fingers," you finally spoke up, your breath hitching as you spoke. "i want you inside." your words caught hakari off guard and he was never really expecting you to want anything more from him. in fact, it only made him grin even more as his eyes locked with yours.

"really...?" he muttered, squeezing your waist a bit with each passing moment. "you sure you don't want my fingers, you want the entire thing, huh?"

when you nodded in response to his question, he let out a grunt as he began to move his hands down to get himself in position. the male would remove his shirt and then his pants and his hands were on your waist while your legs spread far enough to accommodate him. hakari was already breathing heavily at this point, and once he got himself into the proper position, he moved your legs over your head as he prepared to enter you.

once he was inside, his grip on your hips became tight. his movement was a bit slow as well, just to start off. he grunted once again, starting to speed up with each passing moment. his breath getting heavy. your arms were wrapped around his body and when hakari decided to speed up, your grip tightened and your nails proceeded to dig into his back.

hakari groaned, digging his hand deeper into the mattress underneath him as he got into it more at this point. his grip on her hips were as tight as could be, as he looked into her eyes, a grin on his face. the feeling of your nails digging into his back and your moans from them were almost enough to make him lose it. hakari was clearly enjoying this, and so he pressed even deeper, starting to move faster with each passing moment.

“shit...” his pace continued to speed up, as he began to breathe more heavily. “moan for me...” hakari grunted in a somewhat harsh sounding tone, but still somewhat flirtatious. despite the change in his tone, he was enjoying himself as his pace continued to increase.

doing as told, you let out a soft moan as your hips started to react to his movements. hakari seemed delighted by your reaction. his smile grew even stronger. now that you were moaning for him, his fingers gripped onto the sheets of the bed and sweat beads began to form on his forehead.

the male moved closer to your face in order to see you better, his hand still moving. he grunted loudly as he moved even faster, the pace becoming almost relentless. he wanted you to feel amazing, but he also wanted himself to feel just as good, so he moved at a pace where they both felt pleasure. this went on for a while, until he eventually felt himself starting to get close.

once he felt himself get closer, he slowed down a little bit, his grip on her continuing to stay tight and his voice becoming a little raspier from all the movement. “you close?” he grunted out, his breath heavy from all of the movements, just as his voice was heavy due to the sounds you was making.

“yeah,” you breathed out, tears starting to form in your eyes from the pressure.

the movements continued on, picking up speed again, and he stayed as deeply as he could get inside of you. his hand tightened again as well, as he kept his pace the same as before, if not faster.

“fuck, i'm so close...” he murmured, grunting once again. his pace was getting faster, and the movements were becoming more repetitive as he grunted again. his hand kept its grip on your hips.

the sound of your moaning and his grunting became quite loud in the room now, as they just kept going at it. as hakari’s breath became even heavier, his hand moved from her hip up to her neck, starting to grab her a little bit to hold her in place.

“don’t fuckin’ move..." hakari mumbled out, still having his hand on her neck as he moved faster. the sounds of you and his breathing, his grunting, and your moaning were all really loud and heavy. you could barely feel his grip on her stomach anymore, as his hand had moved to her neck now.

“fuck... i'm...” he grunted, his voice becoming hoarse. this continued for a few moments more, but after enough time had passed, he finally stopped. strings of white ropes landed onto you and the bed sheets. hakari released another groan and the grip on your neck loosened finally, leaving purple marks on your skin.

hakari laid down beside you, still breathing heavily. he was dripping with sweat and so were you. both having a panting expression on your faces. although he was exhausted from the whole ordeal, a wide grin was still on his face.

"you know..." he started between breaths, still gripping your waist. his body was leaning against yours, putting pressure on you. "you still got a fat ass head...but i really enjoyed that."

"man, you don't ever let a good moment go by," you playfully roll your eyes as you finally catch your breath. hakari shrugged, giving you a goofy smile before kissing your cheek and resting his head against your chest.

"wanna watch another movie?" he mumbled against your body, lightly kissing you and rubbing your slightly bruised sides with his thumb. you put your hand on his head, running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

"one more and then i'm going to bed." you said as you pulled the blanket over your bodies. hakari sucked his teeth as if he didn't like the idea of watching a final movie then going to sleep.

"i won't be letting you sleep, then," the male smirked as he grabbed the remote from the nightstand and began to search for another movie for the night.

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

[crypticminx]

Getting high with Felix…..

⋆˙⟡♡✧˖° ⋆˙⟡♡✧˖° ⋆˙⟡♡✧˖°

The two of you sitting on his bed, the soft melody of what you can only presume to be jazz plays through the old speakers of his record player.

He’s dressed in nothing but his boxers and an undone dress shirt, his toned abs on full display for your eyes only. You lay for a bit, tilting your head on a pillow, while your bare skin pushes into the silk sheets, not caring if you’ve just moved the rolling tray.

Any excess cannabis would be used for another day it seemed.

The two of you nearly finished the poorly rolled joint, coughing all the way in between foolish laughs that resulted in both of you taking turns spitting into an empty wine glass.

Like his mother once said, nothing phases them, so she shouldn’t be too upset at the powerful scent of pot lingering through the unsealed level of his bedroom door, right?

A foul smell to some, but the two of you were too dazed to care.

A huge smile on your face appears when Felix slowly waltzes around his room, beginning to dance as if there was no tomorrow. You feel your dry mouth start to salivate. Perhaps it was the tiny pang of hunger sprouting from within, but you didn’t want to interrupt the moment. Finding Felix far too gone and quite adorable when he wasn’t in his usual state of mind.

“Oh Felix,” you purr, trying not to grin like a maniac, but you slowly started to lose grip on your once caring conscious, “you’re a fool.”

He walks closer to his bed frame, seeing you sprawled out like some sort of renaissance painting makes him thirst with adoration. However, he shoves those thoughts aside for later and graciously tosses his hand to yours. “Dance with me, my fair lady?”

You chuckle, pushing yourself up from your cozy abundance and taking his hand with glee.

“Who would I be if I said no to that.”

[heartfullofleeches]

I come with request 🛐, Femboy reader getting high with Slasher yan for the first time- (Femboys first time, I feel like Slasher gets high every other weekend.)

[weed ment,male reader]

You flinch as the flame ignites. A hand strokes up your thigh, stopping at your hip as restless eyes watch the nervous bounce of your leg against the wooden floor.

"You scared, pretty boy?"

"No... it's just...."

That smell.... It's really getting to you now. An awful stench permeating through the basement door, clinging to the walls of your mouth with every intake of breath. It stuck to their clothes, their skin. You've voiced your concerns before, but they always brush you off. It's nothing. They assured. I got a few plants in the basement for personal use. Maybe you should join me for a session if you doubt me.

It was getting worse - and you hadn't even started.

"Take it easy - you're stressed out over nothing. This'll take your mind off everything. Here."

A glass tube is pressed to your lips before you can form them to your rebuttal. Accepting defeat, you purse your lips around the end of the pipe as they reignite their lighter. Heat funnels down your throat as you breathe. It catches in your chest, swelling in your lungs as tiny plumes of smoke rolling past your lips. A hand gripping the back of your neck keeps you from pulling away as you cough. A musky scent floods your nose as the herb burns. Your face scrutches up as it lingers on your tongue.

"See?"

Something still feels off. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's definitely a difference between the smell of cannabis and whatever wafted from the basement. It's hard to pin out, but whatever it was is gone from your mind now. There's no really reason to doubt them anyway. You quickly lose than train of thought entirely as you take the pipe from them. They warn you to be careful, but there's no bite behind their words. As you take another hit, the hard glass is replaced with the softness of their lips. Pushing their thumb against your jaw, they force the smoke from your lips - sucking in as they shift your legs into their lap. Your skirt rides up as you're adjusted to the new position - your head falling to their shoulder as it spins.

"I'm sorry for doubt you....Can you believe I thought you were hiding a body down there?"

They kiss your wrist as you giggle your worries away.

"I'm heartbroken you'd even suggest that."

[hunnysahara]

˖⁺‧₊˚❀𝓒𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓪❀˚₊‧⁺˖

Hamzah x fem reader

Thought I'd be cool in California, I'd make you proud. To think I almost had it going but I let you down.

After a disastrous move to Los Angeles, you’re sent packing back home to Toronto trying to beat the gnawing feeling of loneliness.

WC: 4.4k

CW: cannabis usage / angst if you squint

No one really understood why you had to leave and you weren't willing to admit you would've rotted beneath the scalding Los Angeles sun if you didn't go back home. You didn't have the stomach to tell your parents they were right when they told you it wouldn't work out, that it wasn't something you could handle. 

Now you stare at the half-empty suitcase sprawled open on the floor, clothes spilling out in a heap like a discarded life. This is what it's come to- moving back into a cramped, outdated flat in Toronto with a roommate who spoke to you solely through dirty glares, a far cry from the polished, sun-soaked world of Los Angeles you thought you would never leave. The room is small, with barely enough space for you to walk around, let alone recreate any sense of the luxury you had grown used to. The walls are bare, a sterile white that mocks the vibrant, carefully curated lifestyle you had paraded on social media.

This must've been the fear that crept into your head during late nights coming to fruition. You had moved in a week ago and couldn't bring yourself to unpack, hardly leaving bed. You were living off the packs of ramen you bought from the gas station on the way from the airport.

You hadn't been happy in California, but being back home made you think that you wouldn't be happy anywhere. Everything there was too expensive, and everyone was coked out of their minds, and you had crawled out of there by the skin of your teeth like you had been dragged through hell. Your rise and fall have been documented in real-time for all of your followers to see even if you tried to play it cool, there were always internet sleuths who would speculate.

Still- you try to compose yourself the same way you would a song or a speech, what little savings you had wouldn't last forever. 

You start pulling clothes from the suitcase, one by one, the sharp scent of Los Angeles still clinging to the fabric. It's bitter, almost like a cruel joke- a reminder of everything you've lost. It's all here: the designer jackets, the sheer tops perfect for rooftop parties you won't be attending anymore. You didn't even like the clothes, you just liked the idea that someone would pay for you to wear one of their designs. 

What you hadn't accounted for when you made the split-second decision to move was just how cold Canada was in October. All you had to keep you warm were a handful of sweatshirts from high school and leggings you were gifted in a PR package months prior. 

Once you have forcefully shoved your clothes into your dresser and pushed every box to one side of the room, it looks almost intact from a certain point of view. You set up the tripod and camera with mechanical precision, your movements slow and deliberate as you adjust the angles, making sure the tiny frame of your new apartment looks somewhat presentable.

It's not much, and you know no amount of clever angles or editing will make this place look like your old life in Los Angeles, but you're determined to try. It's been too long since your last post your followers must be wondering where you've been, and why you've gone silent. If you don't get something out soon, they might stop caring altogether and with your digital footprint, you're sure you've closed out all other career options.

With a deep breath, you sit down in front of the camera, smoothing your hair and glancing at your reflection in the monitor. Your stomach twists as you catch sight of yourself—your eyes look hollow, your skin dull in the unfortunate lighting. 

"Hey, guys!" you begin, your voice sounding brittle and raspy. "I know it's been a while, and I just... wanted to give you all an update." You trail off, feeling the words crumble on your tongue. In the monitor, your smile falters, and you cringe, reaching forward to hit the stop button.

"Ugh," you groan. That was terrible. You sound fake like the voice actors in ads on Spotify. A voice like plastic, made to sell. You delete the footage and start again, clearing your throat, and shaking out your shoulders.

"Hey! So if you couldn't tell I have moved," You clench your teeth into a smile, awkwardly shifting to show the new space just slightly. "And I am in Canada once again," Around the end, your voice falls too soft, too unsure of your own words.

"Hi, everyone. It's been a crazy few weeks, and I know I owe you an explanation," you say, forcing the words out this time, willing them to sound genuine. "So, I'm back in Toronto, and I—" You stop, cringing as you watch your own awkwardness play out on the monitor. God, why do you look so stiff? You sound like you're reading from a script. Your eyes drop to the ground in frustration, biting the inside of your cheek to stop your off-putting words from mounting into a scream. 

In the two months you spent trying to pick yourself back up, it was like you forgot how to do your job entirely and simultaneously forgetting yourself. You weren't sure how you acted or how you were supposed to. The line between you and the caricature you played on camera was bleeding into itself.

Each attempt leaves you feeling more deflated, and more disgusted with yourself. The room starts to feel smaller, the walls inching closer with every failed take. You slam your finger onto the stop button one last time and bury your face in your hands, the frustration boiling over into hot, bitter tears.

"Whatever," you mutter to yourself, sniffling and wiping away whatever tears want to spill.

You grab your phone, hoping for a distraction, for anything to pull you out of this spiral of self-loathing. But as you scroll through your feed, that tightening in your stomach returns.

Your best friend from LA who had conveniently become busy the second things started folding in on you, was at a club with her new boyfriend who of course had a movie star smile and a head of thick curls. Another friend happily promotes her brand deal. You weren't even sure you were friends with them anymore, they didn't seem to take your absence to heart while theirs was so prominent to you that it felt like a presence.

Everyone you were friends with from high school was sharing their experiences with college, exams, dorms, and everything you traded for fifteen minutes of fame. Another friend in some exotic location, cocktail in hand. They're all doing something, achieving something. They're moving forward while you tripped and fell backwards.

You stare at the phone for what feels like an eternity, fingers hovering over your parents' contact. It's been months since you last spoke to them—their voices were tight with disappointment, the kind that sticks with you like peanut butter to the roof of your mouth. 

A lump forms in your throat as you scroll past their names again, hesitation gnawing at you. You know they're furious, and rightfully so. 

With a deep breath, you press "Call" before you can change your mind, holding the phone to your ear. It rings, once, twice, three times, the silence on the other end growing louder with every second. You glance out the window of your tiny apartment, the Toronto skyline nothing like the sunlit sprawl of LA. When the ringing stops, you almost wish they'd picked up, just to have the comfort of a familiar voice, even if it's charged with anger and disappointment.

Then the voicemail beeps.

"I'm back in Toronto, as you probably guessed," you say, voice cracking slightly. "The house... it's fine. It's not LA, but it's fine." You let out a shaky laugh that sounds hollow even to you. "Um, I know you're really mad at me but I would love to see you guys for lunch or maybe watch a movie or something like we used to."

You take a shaky breath, glancing at the phone like it might somehow give you the courage to continue. "I just wanted to hear your voices, I guess. I wanted to say I'm sorry. You were right and I wish that I listened to you. I just—" You stop yourself before the words start spilling out too fast, too frantic.

"LA was just a little too overwhelming for me, I missed Canada," you continue even if it isn't the full truth, your voice softer now. "You can yell at me all you want, I just want to see you guys." You huff a laugh to hide the urge to cry "Things are still going good, I'm glad I'm back. I don't think it'll be too different, maybe just a bit quieter."

There's a long pause, the silence of the room pressing in on you. You close your eyes, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill over. "I love you both," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "So if you want to, call me back and we can set up dinner or something. I'll... I'll talk to you later, bye."

Outside, it gently begins to rain. You don't need to press your ear to the glass to hear it, each splatter is like a whisper and you're so attentive since it's the only thing that's spoken to you in weeks.

You drag yourself off the bed, eyes burning from the unshed tears you've been holding back. Sitting around won't fix anything, and won't magically make your problems disappear. You need to do something. Anything to get out of your own head, to stop that endless cycle of self-loathing. With a resigned sigh, you turn back to the mess of the apartment, clothes strewn across the floor, boxes stacked in corners, wrappers and empty water bottles piling up on the coffee table.

"Alright," you mutter to yourself, wiping the last of the tears from your cheeks. "Just... clean up. Start somewhere."

You grab a trash bag and move to the kitchen, shoving empty takeout containers and crumpled napkins into it, the stale smell lingering in the air. With each item that leaves your hands, you feel a tiny bit lighter. Cleaning, at least, gives you some semblance of control. You can't fix everything, but you can make this place feel a little less like a prison.

When the bag is full, you tie it up with more force than necessary, the plastic crinkling angrily under your fingers. You glance around the room, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at the cleaner surfaces, the space looking a little more livable. It's not much, but it's something.

You grab the trash bag and head to the front door, holding it awkwardly under one arm as you fumble to turn the knob. The rain is light enough that it leaves you just sprinkled as you awkwardly rush to the garbage can.

It's only when you turn to look back at your door that you remember it locks upon closing. Your breath catches in your throat as you frantically pat down your pockets, then scan the floor, hoping to see them lying somewhere nearby. "No, no, no, no," you mutter under your breath, the panic rising as you realize they're not on you. You can picture them clearly, sitting smugly on the kitchen counter, just out of reach.

Conveniently, this was when your roommate had picked up a late shift, leaving you locked out of the flat. 

You try the knob just in case, rattling it as if it might magically give way. It doesn't. A strangled sound escapes your throat, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Fuck!" You shout, pulling on the handle like that would do anything. 

"Are you kidding me?" you seethe, pulling away from the door and kicking it. Hard. The impact sends a jolt of pain up your foot, but you don't care. You kick it again, harder this time, the door thudding in response, refusing to budge.

As childish as you felt kicking the door, it's the final thing to tip you over and you can no longer hold back the tears that were waiting to fall. They're hot and stinging, blurring your vision as you slam your hands against the door again and again. The pain in your knuckles feels good in a way, like a release. You curse under your breath, the words tumbling out, raw and vicious. "Damn it!"

Your strength drains quickly, each hit becoming weaker until you're just slapping the door with the flat of your palms, gasping for breath, the anger dissolving into a wave of grief and exhaustion. You slump against the door, sliding down until you're sitting on the cold, hard floor, your shoulders heaving with sobs.

You pull your knees to your chest, burying your face in your arms. The street is quiet, the only sound of your broken cries echoing softly around you. It's like every emotion you've been bottling up since you got back is pouring out now, in the cold air and oncoming rain, in front of this unyielding door. You cry for the life you lost, for the mistakes you made, for the uncertain, terrifying future that stretches ahead of you.

This can't be the rest of your life, right?

Then you sense it—a presence, a pair of eyes on you. You glance up, wiping your face with the sleeve of your hoodie, and spot him: your neighbour. He's leaning against his brick doorway just a few feet away, a joint lazily balanced between his fingers, looking at you with an awkward mixture of concern and confusion from beneath the awning. 

You hadn't noticed him or the smell of pot which must've been subdued by the rain. You vaguely recognize him. Hamzah, you think his name is. Never had you known he was your neighbour but you were sure you had seen him on your feed a couple of years ago. Now, though, he's standing there, his eyes locked onto you like he's stumbled upon something he wasn't meant to see.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. He takes a drag, the tip of the joint glowing faintly in the dim hallway. You can see the smoke curl around him as he exhales, the smell reaching you a moment later. You swallow hard, feeling a fresh wave of embarrassment wash over you. Great. Not only are you locked out, but now you've got an audience to witness your breakdown.

"You, uh... you good?" he asks finally, his voice rough from the smoke. It's an awkward, tentative question as if he's not quite sure what else to say in this scenario. 

"Um," You straighten your posture, coughing to clear the bubble in your throat from sobbing "Yup."

He shifts uncomfortably, scratching at the back of his neck. "Do you... need help or something? Like... with the door?" he offers, taking another drag.

"I just locked myself out, had a bad day," You say, trying to slip in an explanation for your little show "Uh, my roommate can let me in when she gets home." 

He exhales a cloud of smoke, nodding slowly. "Yeah. I can see that." Another pause, then he adds, "You want me to call someone? Like a locksmith or something? Is there something I can do?"

You glance up at Hamzah, eyes still red from crying, and see him taking another drag. The silence between you feels heavy and awkward. Impulsively, you blurt out, "Can I have a hit of that?" You're not sure why you ask—maybe you just need something to take the edge off, something to dull the sting of reality.

Hamzah hesitates, looking you over like he's trying to gauge how serious you are. Then, with a small shrug, he steps closer and extends the joint. "Sure," he says, holding it out and gesturing for you to come closer. 

Sheepishly, you move from your spot on the stoop and scamper over to his patio. You take it from his fingers, feeling the warmth of where his hand was. It's not like you've never done this before, but it feels strange now, in this setting, stuck under an awning with a virtual stranger. You bring the joint to your lips, inhaling deeply. The smoke burns your lungs for a moment, and you cough, fighting the urge to wince as you hand it back to him.

"Thanks," you croak, blinking to clear your watery eyes. The two of you sit in silence for a beat, and you sense him watching you again, more curious now than awkward.

"So," he starts, breaking the silence. "Why are you locked out? What happened?"

"Oh, it's one of those automatic locks but it's actually not since the keypad is busted," Even as you string the words together they don't make sense to you but Hamzah slowly nods.

"Okay," His eyes are half-lidded and another silence stretches between you until he fills it "So you just moved in?" He asks to which you nod "From where?"

"California."

"Why'd you leave?"

"Coke." You answer a bit too fast "Everyone is coked up all the time and it's just kinda miserable no matter where you go." 

"Yeah that checks out," He takes a drag before offering you another hit. Hamzah's eyebrows draw in as he studies the curves of your face and the bridge of your nose, finally, he says "Sorry, you just look really familiar."

"Yeah, you do too," You feel the smoke fill your lungs, the sensation feels as rough as sandpaper.

"Yeah," he reiterates, drawing the word out, eyes still on you. "No, I do know you," Hamzah announces like he's cracked a riddle "I used to watch your videos."

"Used to," You repeat, sucking a sharp breath through your teeth "Youch."

His eyes widen slightly "No, no, not like that, I'm just busy now, like I don't have time to-

You cut him off with a laugh "I don't care, I'm just being a dick."

"Oh," He takes a breath out and his lips slowly curl into a small smile "Cool." 

Silence hangs between the two of you like two birds on a wire as you pass the joint back and forth. The eeriness is filled by the patter of rain, harsher now and splashing against the concrete, so loud it sounds like pebbles being tossed onto sheets of glass.

"Are you like- okay?" He glances at you, coughing into his fight for a moment. 

You knew the marijuana had hit you when everything felt like it was moving in frames and suddenly your body didn't feel so heavy "I dunno," You answer truthfully, tongue loosened by the pot in your system "I just don't know what to do."

"How old are you?" He asks abruptly.

"Twenty-one." When the words leave your mouth he laughs "What?"

"What do you mean you don't know what to do? Watch a movie, eat some cereal, you've got time."

You look ahead of you at the street, water dribbling it's way into drains. Oddly, it felt like exactly what you needed to hear, that jigsaw falling into place. The joint is almost finished now, just a few more puffs left. You take a slow drag, savouring the earthy, slightly sweet taste before exhaling a thin stream of smoke that mingles with the cool night air. "It doesn't feel like it." 

"Nah," He waves it off "You've got time and- " Hamzah fishes another joint out of his hoodie pocket, holding it up with a grin. "Since you're already having the worst day ever," he says, "Might as well make it a little more interesting." 

You stare at him for a moment, the remains of your previous frustration tugging at the edges of your mind. But then you shrug. What do you really have to lose at this point? A small, wry smile creeps onto your face. "Sweet."

-

Hamzah's living room is messy in a comfortable way, with gaming consoles scattered around the TV and piles of clothes thrown across the couch. "Make yourself at home," he says with a grin, already rummaging through a pile on the floor to pull out a small tripod and camera.

You collapse onto the couch, feeling the familiar thrill of preparing to film, even if this time it's more chaotic and impulsive. Hamzah sets up the tripod, the lens trained on the two of you. He fumbles for a second, trying to find the record button.

"Okay, okay," he mutters to himself, squinting at the camera. "Ready?"

You nod, suppressing a giggle as he finally gets it going. He plops down beside you, and you both stare at the red light blinking at the top of the camera.

"Hey, what's up, YouTube!" Hamzah begins, his voice loud and overly enthusiastic, making you burst into laughter. He shoots you a mock-serious glance, pointing at you. "So, this is my neighbour... my locked-out, kind of sad neighbour. We just had a major debrief."

"Major," You nod in confirmation.

Hamzah grins, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. "Right, right. She is in a bit of what I call a slump that we are getting her out of. So, what brings you to the fine streets of Toronto?"

You launch into an exaggerated tale of your move back, embellishing details to make it sound even more ridiculous. He plays along, interjecting with snarky commentary, and soon the two of you are riffing off each other like a well-rehearsed duo.

For a moment, you forget about the locked door, the mess of your life outside this room. You're just... here, laughing with this random stranger, acting like a complete goof in front of a camera.

"And that's how we ended up here," Hamzah finishes, throwing his hands up dramatically. "Two neighbours, locked out, stoned out of their minds, trying to salvage what little dignity they have left."

"I think your dignity is fine, actually," You correct him.

"Mmm, I dunno about that," he shakes his head "My digital footprint is insane."

"How insane?"

Hamzah holds a finger out before reaching into his pocket and taps around, holding his phone out to show you the screen. You watch as several clips play one after another, him saying incredulous things, taking shrooms at Comic-Con, slipping in a hot tub, and eating a comically large hotdog. 

"Ah, I see," You nod slowly.

"Can you believe I did all of that sober?"

"No, actually, maybe, I don’t know you that well."

"Well," He gestures to his phone "That's basically all you need to know."

"Really?"

"Nah," he shakes his head "What am I saying?"

The glint of a green light catches your eye and you're reminded that this entire conversation is being filmed. You nudge Hamzah's bicep, pointing at the camera "Dude, we have a video to make."

"Wait," he puts his hand out, "I think I just discovered the solution for world peace."

"Do tell." Nothing makes sense, you’re just putting together the first words that come to mind like a game of scrabble.

"Everyone gets high at the same time and then we can all resolve our issues." In the moment, it seemed genius, like there were no issues to it. In your state, your face splits into a smile and you give Hamzah a high five.

"But seriously, we gotta film because I'm going to be very irrelevant very soon."

"Right, right. We will-" his head swerves, looking around for something to hold interest, then, he goes back to his phone, opening up Garage Band "Make a song."

"What?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Nah, just trust me, we will freestyle, it'll be good."

You blink "I can't sing."

Hamzah shrugs, tapping a button that creates a drum loop. "Who cares? It doesn't have to be good. In fact, the worse it is, the funnier it'll be. People love random off-putting stuff that doesn't make sense."

You lean forward, hands on your knees as you try to think of some lyrics. "Okay, okay," you say, catching your breath. "How about... 'I got locked out of my house, life's a mess, lost my success'?"

Hamzah snorts, nodding eagerly. "Perfect. And then, something like, 'My neighbour showed up with a joint, now we're high, nothing's going as planned...'"

You both burst out laughing at how terrible it is, but that only makes it more fun. As the best of a song comes to fruition, you start shouting out lyrics in a half-singing, half-yelling voice, each line worse than the last.

"Can't pay my rent, don't have a cent!" you cry, dramatically throwing your head back.

"Got kicked out of school, and now I'm feeling uncool!" Hamzah chimes in, wailing.

It's chaotic, utterly ridiculous, and so far from anything either of you would ever consider sharing online, but the sheer absurdity of it leaves you both gasping for breath between fits of laughter. You catch glimpses of each other between the laughter, and you realize how freeing it feels to just be silly, to do something that has absolutely no pressure to be perfect or polished. In truth, it wasn't that funny but under the influence, breathing was funny.

As the last of the laughter dies down, you hear the faint rumble of a car engine pulling up outside. You freeze, holding your breath, listening as a car door slams shut and footsteps approach. It takes you a second to register what's happening, and then your eyes widen in realization.

"Oh my god," you mutter, scrambling to your feet. You rush to Hamzah's window, peering outside. There, standing by the curb with a purse in hand, is your roommate. Relief washes over you so suddenly it nearly knocks you over.

"Is that...?" Hamzah asks, glancing out the window beside you.

"Yep," you reply, feeling a mixture of giddiness and embarrassment flood your chest. "That's Margot. I can finally get back inside!" You turn back to him, grinning ear to ear. "I should probably go but uh- thanks for the weed," you say, heading toward the door. Hamzah just nods, a lopsided smile on his face as he follows you to the doorway.

"Oh- yeah," he says, opening the door for you. 

You give him a quick wave, then jog down across the yard to catch your roommate before she heads inside. By the time you reach her, she's already at the door, fumbling with her keys.

"Hey! Thank god you're back!" you blurt out, slightly out of breath. "I locked myself out."

She gives you a skeptical look, seeing your red, glassy eyes but nods, unlocking the door. You slip inside with a sigh of relief, feeling a little steadier, a little less lost than you had a few hours ago. Before she can ask more questions, you glance back toward Hamzah's house, catching sight of him leaning casually in his doorway, waving goodbye with a lazy, knowing grin.

You wave back, shaking your head slightly. What a weird, unexpected day it's been. And yet, somehow, you don't feel quite as alone anymore. It's a weird serenity that washed over you. Toronto didn't seem as hopeless as it did initially.

A/N: Anyways, if you’ve read this far, feel free to send a request. I didn’t really know where I was going with this, just wanted to write something Hamzah.

[spacenintendogs]

sorry hiccup, ur friends are functioning stoners

if u are wondering abt tuff & fishlegs:

actual thought out headcanons happy 4/20 lol

fishlegs: partakes but isn't a stoner. makes sure everyone stays hydrated & can tell u all abt the different kinds of marijuana plants (there's literally over 700 strains). likes making edibles with ruffnut using the stuff he grows. very serious abt everyone taking care of themselves tho, fr. has a pretty good tolerance to it. very giggly

tuffnut: ik it says "does not partake" but he will on occassion if it's like. blunt rotation in hiccup's garage lmao. one puff & he's done. it caused him an asthma attack in the past & after that he said no to constantly doing it. edibles make him way too paranoid & he feels like his skin is pinching/prickling itself & it's itchy. will help with giving ppl water & likes making normal snacks for everyone when they get munchies.

hiccup: only partakes on special occassions or if there's absolutely nothing going on during a weekend. isn't the biggest fan of how it makes him feel. prefers smoking. one time he accidentally ate a whole brownie & he was on the couch, curled up, and riding it out as fishlegs did his best to keep him calm.

astrid: "astrid's been eating dragon nip again" yea she has she's been eating edibles since she was 15 lol all that stress of being perfect she put on herself takes a toll & it helps her unwind. high tolerance. does smoke, too. stoner, but like, no one can tell & originally only ruffnut knew. a fucking Pro & still knows when she can't do it (like when she's driving)

ruffnut: does it bc it's fun silly time!! prefers to smoke & has a bong collection lol. her & astrid are the original stoners of the gang. they got into it together & it's weirdly smth that they hold dear despite not being super duper close. sometimes her & astrid will separate themselves & have a smoke together & just sit. it's nice.

snotlout: he always overdoes it to the point where he'll probably throw up but after he does he's fine & feels great. always chokes & hacks up a storm when he smokes & forgets to drink water. he has hallucinated from brownies ruff made before. gets super twitchy. has ended up in cannabis induced psychosis multiple times & never learns his lesson abt his limits

[thetxtdevil]

Can i req top-of-class-sub-hyuka being assigned to tutor smart-but-emo-n-depressed-and-failing-classes-mean-dom-reader but she didn’t want to be tutored so she manipulates kai into getting high together and then they start making out and things escalate from there hehe <33

--nsfw--

"Kai can you come here for a minute" the professor says as she pushes your glasses up her nose. The man obediently listens to teacher's request with a slight unnerving feeling in his stomach. "You're one of my top students and seem to help others well. I know you won't need it but I can give you extra credit if you tutor Ms. y/n"

Kai straightens his posture, eyes about to bulge out of his head hearing the professor. Looking across the classroom to your sleeping state appearing like a black blob with your dark hair morphing into your dark clothes.

Kai gulps looking back to the professor, "How about putting in a really good word for that internship I'm applying for."

"Deal"

You scared Kai, sweet boy had to gulp down his nerves and wake you up. The man flinches when you shift in your spot after he nudges your figure. You scowl at him holding back the curse words on the tip of your tongue. He explains that he will be tutoring you. Rolling your eyes you didn't want to, but then you study the boy in front of you, soft, cute, he's tall should be intimidating but looks way too innocent, maybe this can be fun.

---

The two of you sit next to each other at your small table in your dorm's dining room. Books splayed out, Kai's filled intricate notebook laid out next to the very naked pages of your notebook. He asks a question and you answer with a "I don't know" or "I don't care." After awhile you start to lose your mind and grab a used packet of gum out of your bag. A gasp leaves Kai's lips when he notices what was inside, a collection of pre-rolled blunts. You pick out one and put it into your mouth you then grab a lighter.

"You can't do that right now" Kai blurts out.

"Watch me" you light it inhaling the cannabis until you can feel the high starting. Kai stares not knowing what to do, "Wanna try?"

He shakes his head, making you respond, "ya know weed is known to be effective for medical purposes, it may help relax those tense muscles you have"

A small nod of acceptance makes you smile and hand the blunt to him, Kai awkwardly pinches it sucking in too much making him cough. You laugh "here let me" taking the blunt back inhale the fumes slowly and grab Kai's jaw, he gasps in surprise opening the opportunity to blow into the cavity. The man's long bangs cover his dazed eyes looking at you, you do the action again and again until two pairs of ruby eyes stare at each other lustfully. You set the blunt in your ash tray, Kai was too far gone to continue studying, at that moment the only thing he was studying was how your body, how your oversized hoodie engulfed you hiding your shorts underneath, all he could see was your legs and little did he realize he had his hands on them.

You smirk at him, seems like he has a little obsession with your legs. Lifting up yourself Kai watches you as you situate yourself on top of him. You grab his fallen hands and put them back on your legs and he instantly starts massaging the flesh. You hold the man's face and harshly press your lips against his. Like a puzzle piece his lips intertwine with yours making both of you hungrier.

Guiding Kai's big hands up under your hoodie for him to find out you were braless. He whimpers at the feeling of your plush mounds and curiously pinches the sensitive nub. Your back arches making Kai watch in surprise at what he did. You start to grind on his obvious bulge now having him wither in pleasure. Your teeth graze the flawless skin of his, kissing, sucking, doing anything to make Kai give in more. The friction in between your legs felt so good and you could tell the massive size dick he was hiding in those trousers.

One last harsh kiss you get off of his body. Kai's hands still on you while your hands unbutton his bottoms. "Can I do another thing that will surely relax you?"

Kai bobbles his head turning addicted to everything you were doing to him. You smile getting on your knees to get face to face with his beautiful cock.

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling, @incogrioio

[serpentface]

Chit-Sut-Susit drake relaxing and smoking hemp, ft. wearable friends.

Insects played a prominent role in the original religion of the Chit-Sut-Susit and other related northwestern plains qilik, with a central figure being the King of the Butterflies. Most Chit-Sut-Susit now practice variants of Cynozepali Cosmic Dualism, but retain a reverence of arthropods and integrate them both into the design of their clothing and physically onto their person.

Butterfly-patterned cloaks are worn ubiquitously among drakes, being highly associated with male beauty. Folk belief holds that butterflies and moths are earthbound spirits of ancestors (as each individual has two souls, one of which remains in the world to guide their descendents, the other moving into the afterlife).

Several species of beetles have been domesticated and bred into various color morphs solely for self-decoration. A small clip is stuck onto their shells, to which chains can be attached and removed to be worn as jewelry. The beetles are hardy and slow moving, and are removed and fed at night- a well cared for beetle can live up to a year.

One species of tick is also effectively domesticated, and bred into a few color morphs. The jewel tick is intentionally induced to bite and feed on exposed skin in the face, serving as decoration that lasts about a week as they feed. When bred in captivity, they rarely carry pathogens transmissible to avians, and the risk is deemed to be a small price to pay for beauty.

-------

Hemp is a significant crop in the homeland of the Chit-Sut-Susit, being the primary source of textiles and other valuable materials. Psychoactive portions are routinely smoked as an aspect of traditional meditative practice, either through pipes, or thrown into a fire under a tent so the fumes are inhaled by those inside. (Note- the THC content is comparably low to cannabis used recreationally in the present day irl)

[blubushie]

i'm kinda curious now... what are some of the worst/most ooc takes on the tf2 characters that you've seen 👀👀

I covered this before kinda with my "what does Blu hate about TF2 fanon."

For Sniper. For the rest of the mercs.

To sum it up:

Fandom constantly calling Sniper a Kiwi despite him only being born in Aotearoa and his entire character arc in the comics being "the people who birthed me aren't my real family, the parents who kept and raised me are". The fandom is so fucking weird about immigrants and adoptees. Also people who headcanon him as Aboriginal: I hate you because none of you can even fucking research shit to get it right. If you're Aboriginal and do that you're cool though. Namarnedjare ngudman <3

Twinkified Sniper. He's a sniper and uses a bow, he's going to have strong arms and stronger shoulders, and the comics depict him as lean.

Saying Sniper would smell. None of the fandom understands how important a lack of scent is during hunting, and Sniper is a hunter. Similarly, people headcanoning him as smoking cannabis for this reason. He does shrooms. If he's indulging in some THC that man is eating edibles so the smell doesn't stick to his clothes and skin and hair when he has to hunt.

Sniper being shy. The fandom doesn't understand how dog-eat-dog underground work is. This man would not survive long enough to become a world-renowned assassin if he was shy; also being shy would go completely against his professionalism mantra. He'd do whatever was necessary to get his kill.

Sniper being bothered by the cold. No one in the fandom understands how cold the outback gets during winter. He'd be absolutely fine. Additionally bushmen have to be highly adaptable to survive.

People making Medic evil despite canon pointing to him caring deeply for his team. At most he's chaotic neutral, and his only moment of "manipulation" is when he tricks the literal Devil, which I'm wagering is more than acceptable considering it's literally the Devil. Medic is not your sadistic manipulative monster archetype.

"Demo is abusive/lazy because he's an alcoholic" while ignoring him holding down 3 jobs while being an alcoholic, while ignoring him caring for his mum while being an alcoholic. Just say you hate addicts and go.

Intersex NB Pyro. I've been over it before. As an intersex man, I hate this fucking headcanon so goddamn much.

Infantilising Pyro despite Pyro literally being the CEO of a construction company and bringing in record profits for that quarter. And also being a mercenary PYRO LITERALLY KILLS PEOPLE JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM.

People ignoring Medic's likely bisexuality in favour of promoting him as a gay man. I don't mean people saying that Medic was never married to start with and that Demo was talking out his arse, I mean people saying Medic's wife was his beard. The bi erasure is real. People treat bisexuality as a "less pure" variant of gay.

Bigoted Engie.

Communist Heavy (his father was literally murdered by the USSR and his family thrown into a gulag in Siberia because he was a counter-revolutionary).

Evil/arsehole Spy. Also people who take Spy too seriously. This bloke cracks "your mum" jokes and snorts when he laughs. Come on. Spy might take himself seriously but that man is not as serious as he thinks he is.

Bigoted Soldier.

People using the time period as an excuse to be a bigot so they can scream about how bad it is to be a bigot. You're still promoting bigotry. This wouldn't be an issue if racism wasn't a centre/scene in practically every fucking Demo fic. I'm kinda tired of seeing marginalised people be brutalised by a fandom so the fandom can virtue-signal about how bad it is to brutalise marginalised people. Can the characters please have some happiness? Or at least some angst that isn't a constant slew of queerphobia/racism/etc?

[shyllamapioneer]

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️because the sun was shining today

[liyawritesss]

ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ

Pairing: MCU!Riri Williams x Black!Masc!Reader

Genre: Fic

Synopsis: In which you can’t believe anyone ever truly falls in love with you, until Riri Williams attempts to show you otherwise.

Warnings: mentions of severe anxiety, very bad breakups, cursing, an unspecified situationship between reader and Riri, use of cannabis and other herbs for smoking, mentions of domestic abuse

A/N: In this fic, the reader has severe anxiety and mania that causes her emotions to become too overwhelming to control; therefore she uses cannabis to dull her emotions to a tolerable level. Songs to listen to while reading: Halsey’s “Sorry”, Chase Atlantic’s “I THINK I’M LOST AGAIN”, Ella Mai’s “Trip, Lul Sis’s “I Remember”, SZA’s “Shirt” & “Special”

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @verachii @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @rxcently @chrome-edition @liv444me @yvxmpire @hippiedippyshit @secretgyals

Up until a year ago, the only thing you could depend on was your music and a blunt.

It’s a riveting story, really, of how you became acquainted with the cannabis-filled paper roll. A bundle of contentment your first ex introduced you to. The only thing you had control of in that relationship, and the only thing you took from it. A young, naive sixteen year old desperate for affection, who fell into the trap of an eighteen year old who only cared for self satisfaction. But what better could you have known?

And now you stare at the blunt between your fingers, with the base of your car turned to the max and the speakers blasting whatever song you had on your playlist, watching the red ring around the end inch closer and closer to your skin. If it was bad day, you’d let it reach your fingers, allowing the embers of the blunt to burn into the tip of your thumb and forefinger as they’ve done before. The sting of it is far more satisfying than the sting your lungs took with every pull of the brown little stub.

But you’re too conscious to let it happen. That, and you have company coming.

There’s a loud knocking on your tinted car windows, the perpetrator none other than Riri Williams. You can’t hear what she’s shouting, but you're sure it’s something about how you need to open the car door because it’s cold as shit outside.

Your unlock the passenger door and turn down the music to a tolerable level - Riri never liked it when you played your music loud - and turn up the heat for the passenger side of the car. The engineer sports some black sweatpants, a pastel blue crop top, and her black bubble winter jacket that’s overly shiny and plastic-y in texture. Despite the many times you’ve offered to buy her another, warmer, less annoying coat, she refuses. ‘She still has a year or two left in her!’ She’d whine.

“I don’t know why the fuck,” she starts, as she fiddles with the zipper on the cropped bubble coat in an attempt to get it off, “you got me waiting outside,” and at this point, you’ve already reached onto the back seat and grabbed your hoodie, the only one of yours she’ll ever wear because, of course, it’s your favorite one, and it’s just big enough for her, “and it’s cold as fuck outside!”

Once her coat is off and tossed into the back seat, she all but snatches the soft hoodie from your hand and tugs it over her upper half. “Manners much, lil’ girl?”

“Shut the fuck up and get to drivin’,” Riri shoots back, tugging on the strings of the hood of your sweater, closing it tight until only her eyes and nose are visible. She’s even chucked her Ugg boots off, opting to tucking her feet under herself, practically sitting criss-cross in the passenger seat.

“Where the hell am I even goin’?” You retort, starting the engine to your car, “You just called me and said pull up, ain’t tell me shit ‘bout nothin’ else!”

“To Navy Pier!” Riri responds, “The fireworks are tonight, remember?”

“No, I don’t remember, ‘cus you ain’t tell me nothin’!”

The bickering between you two could last for ages, but apparently, Riri was stretched for time, and she was also hungry, and a hungry Riri was not a fun Riri.

“Okay, fine, sorry, but we gotta go! They start in like forty-five minutes and traffic’s already shit!” She whines, tugging on your arm like a toddler begging for candy. You roll your eyes, playfully of course, as you pull out of the parking spot and start driving down the road.

“Have you even eaten yet, while you in here barking demands ‘nd shit?” You ask, your free hand instinctively going to rest on the cushion of her thigh, your thumb softly kneading into it. Glancing out of the corner of your eye, you see she’s busying herself by connecting her phone to your car’s Bluetooth feature. No doubt she’s about to turn on some Summer Walker or SZA, as she’s been listening to those two artists a lot as of recent.

“Uhh…” her voice trailing off is enough of an answer for you, and as you pull up to an intersection, instead of turning left which would have taken you to the expressway, you turn right - right into the McDonald’s that sits on the corner.

Of course, Riri is groaning about how you’re gonna be late for the fireworks show, but you’d rather deal with her being upset over that then her being upset because she’s hungry. Only one of those is actually tolerable.

“Shut up, you’re the one that can’t seem to feed yourself,” You scold the other girl as you pull up to the drive through. You recite to the person over the intercom your orders - a ten piece chicken nugget meal for the engineer in your passenger seat, and for you just a fry and a drink.

“It’s not my fault!” Riri protests as you pull up to the payment window, handing the fast food worker your card. “Really? How come it ain’t then?”

And in the few minutes that Riri finds herself trying to come up with a lie to satisfy your scolding eyes, your order is ready. You place her bag of food in her lap, yours in your own, and your drinks in the cup holders.

You notice quickly the silence that befalls the car once you’ve pulled off from the restaurant, to which you peer over to Riri in the passenger seat. “Keep talking, I’m listening,” you say.

Riri looks up from the bag she’s fiddling with, trying to fish out a few fries to satisfy her growling stomach until you both get to the pier. “Right- Um, so I was workin’ on this AI thing - uh, artificial intelligence; think of it like a computer that can talk back you-”

“So, like, a robot…?”

“Just shut up and listen!”

Soon enough you’d pulled into an empty parking lot by the lakefront, close enough to the pier so that you’d be able to see the fireworks at a good proximity. It was a cheap alternative to having to pay to get into the show itself, plus it made for better intimacy.

You and Riri sat in the back seat of the car, allowing more room for comfort. She’s put on one of her playlists - there was a song by H.E.R. playing low on the speakers - and you had a fresh blunt in hand. The window on your side was cracked a little to allow the smoke to escape and not cloud in Riri’s face, and despite her occasional complaints of the chilly wind that would pass through, she knew it was necessary.

She’s cuddled up to you; her arms wrapped around your own as she took interest in the tattoo sleeve that riddled your arm. Different designs, multiple lines to trace, the stories they held.

The reason why they were there.

Your mind begins to muddle once more as you take another drag from your blunt, the sting in your lungs the only thing telling you that you were alive, that you were capable of feeling. That, and the dull feeling of Riri’s acrylics tracing your skin, intrigued.

“Y’know, you never told me exactly why you got these,” She mutters.

Your hand, which held Riri’s legs over your lap, with your thumb which kneaded into the meat of her calf, stopped in its motion.

“Just wanted somethin’ different,” You muuttered, taking another pull from your blunt.

“Nah, i’on believe that,” Riri replied, as she started tracing a particular part of your arm. “You have a reason for everything.”

Your chest became tight as she continued to poke and prod at that one spot, intrigued by the design chosen to take its place. “Damn, this must’ve hurt.”

The tattoo, no. But the scar under it? It still left a mark only visible to you. And the pain from it never truly left you.

“Stop fucking throwing shit at me!”

You’re sure the neighbors could hear your pleas, but whether they cared enough or not to call the police for you, you wouldn’t know.

“Why the fuck were you with her!?”

You stood behind the couch, your only defense as you refused to lay a hand on your ex. She stood on the other side with a deranged look in her eyes, a look you’d never seen before. You’d never have thought that her jealousy to reach this feat.

At first, you found it endearing. Her possessiveness, the need to let others know that you were hers. It made you feel wanted, loved.

But as she stands across from you, enraged at the fact that you spent the afternoon with your cousin, the one you had told her about numerous times, the one she even met, the one you had told her you had plans of seeing her this weekend when she got into town, opened your eyes for what it truly was.

Your ex was, for lack of better words, psychotic.

“That was my fucking cousin! The one I been told you about!” You shouted back at her. “You fucking met her a couple months ago!”

“Oh, sure, your fucking cousin!” The woman shrieks as she chucks another random object in her vicinity towards you. You managed to block it with your arms, but the second it took to distract with it, the woman made a dash for you. There was something else in her hand now - a much more sinister weapon.

A pocket knife.

“Baby, baby please,” You begged as your ex inched closer and closer to you, ready to strike. You still refused to defend yourself physically, not if it meant you had to hurt her in the process. “Put the fucking knife down- just listen to me-”

There was a shriek, which followed a hard thud on the floor, which was now painted in your blood.

You hurriedly snatched your hand away from Riri’s prying ones, and in an attempt to keep your cool, opted to drape it around her shoulders instead. It brung her closer to you, so she didn’t complain, but the suddenness of the action left her with questions.

“That is the reason. Just wanted somethin’ different.” You reiterated, dragging out another pull from your blunt. It was a deeper inhale than the others before, which made your lungs sting even more, but you needed to forget.

You needed to forget that night. It made you feel too much. And right now, You didn’t want to feel anything. You couldn’t bear to feel anything. You just…couldn’t.

“Hey,” Riri’s voice sounded, as she looks up at you from your side, “It’s me, (Y/N). You know you can talk to me.”

Her words made you look down at her. And for a moment, you consider it. You consider telling her the origins of your sleeve, the origins on most of the tattoos that littered your body. Maybe that would alleviate some of the overwhelming pressure that sat heavy in your chest, in your heart. But the very thought of it had your chest closing in, your eyes prickling with tears, and your body trembling. The thought of remembering it all, reliving it all, feeling everything, everywhere, all at once. It was too much to bear, too much, too much, too much-

Without thinking, your blunt meets your lips again, and the sweet sting to your lungs and the fog that muddles your brain calms your heartbeat. You look at Riri and sigh, turning back to the lightshow before you.

“Maybe next time, Ri,” you murmur, your free hand going back to massaging her legs. You feel her body relax into you. You wish yours could do the same.

“You wanted to talk?”

Up until a year ago, the only thing you could depend on was your music and a blunt.

Until Riri Williams came into your life.

It was interesting, really, the story of how you two met. Having taken interest in one another at a park all those months ago, you two became fast friends. From late night drives to fast food runs, to even helping her raid junkyards for her engineering projects, you two would do almost everything together.

Until one night, when an alcohol-influenced kiss changed the course of everything.

“Yeah,” you reply, busying yourself around your kitchen, trying to act like you were preparing some semblance of a breakfast for yourself. As much as you got on Riri for not eating, you didn’t need the same lecture returned to you. At least, not today.

“Was just gonna tell you I probably won’t be on my phone that much,” you add on, pausing your fiddling to direct all your attention onto the small frame of your phone, where a sleepy Riri currently was pictured.

Damn, she was cute. The way her eyes were half-lidded, riddled with sleep; the way her short bob-length butterfly locks framed her face; the realization that she had another one of your hoodies that she wore to bed. This girl was depleting your hoodie collection, and you didn’t like that.

Frankly, there were a lot of things Riri did to you that you didn’t like. But they never stopped you from coming back to her.

“Is that my hoodie, lil’ girl?” You question with a raised eyebrow, to which the girl on the other releases a small hum in response.

“Mmm, no…” Riri replies, but you know it’s a lie. She does too, which is why she’s trying to cover herself up with her blanket.

“Yeah, okay,” because there was no way you were getting her to admit she stole one of your hoodies again, but at least you knew it was somewhere safe and in good use.

“Did you hear me, ma?”

“Mhm…”

“Ri, what did i say?”

“You not gon’ be on your phone, I heard you.”

“Aight. I’ll call you tonight, let you know what’s up, okay?”

“Mhm…”

There was no use in getting any real words out of Riri this early in the morning, so you just took her word for it and bid her farewell. The engineer said her goodbyes in possibly the softest, sweetest tone you’d ever heard from her. It made your heart hurt to hang up on her, but you knew that it was better this way.

Your head had been a mess lately. It gets bad like this whenever certain months of the year come around. These particular months, your body has associated with the horrible exes that plagued your existence, and the horrible things they’ve done to you.

Of course Riri knew of your exes - though much sooner than what you had intended on. She had did something to accidentally triggered you and it sent you into a spiral of heavy breathing and cursing, lashing out at the girl unintentionally. To this day, it’s one of the things you heavily regret happening to her. You’d never raised your voice at Riri, never once shied away from her touch or spoke to her in a disrespectful manner. But that night, too much was happening all at once, and her saying the word ‘stupid’ in your general vicinity was what caused everything to spill out.

Though you shouldn’t, another memory protrudes your thoughts, unwelcomed, of the ex that ruined your sense of self.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

It’s a question you didn’t care to answer, as the answer to it had been said numerous times before. And frankly, you weren’t in the mood to argue.

“...so you just not gon’ respond to me?”

“I told you already. Dinner party for my grandma.”

“You ain’t say shit about your grandma, (Y/N),”

You turn away from the mirror to face the woman on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on her phone, somehow finding the concentration to do that and try to start an argument with you. Which you’ve done your best to avoid, but knowing her, she’d pick something small to blow up over.

“I very much did. And I’m not about to argue with you about this. I’m trying to enjoy the night with my grandma, and I refuse to have it ruined.”

“Oh, so I’m spoiling your mood now?”

Fuck, you fell for it. A sigh pushes its way through your lips as you make your way to the edge of the bed to grab your phone and keys.

She was muttering under her breath and you honestly couldn’t care to react to her right now. Your mind was on your family dinner, and you wanted to at least look a little happy when you greeted your grandmother. But she was making it very difficult to be passive.

“You not even listening to me! This the stupid ass shit I’m talking about, I’m tryna talk to you and you just walking away.”

By this point, you’d made it to the living room of your apartment, sitting on the bench at the foyer to lace up your boots you chose to wear for the evening. And yet, the woman beside you would not stop her taunting.

“You know, you lucky I put up with your bullshit. You’re so fucking stupid you don’t even realize I can leave right out this bitch and not come back! Then who you gon’ call when you need somebody? Cuz it sure as fuck wont be me-”

“Then leave.”

“Excuse me?”

As your putting on your coat, stuffing the pockets with your necessities - phone, wallet, keys - you turn to look at the woman who had been shouting obscenities at you since you woke up this morning.

“If I’m such a horrible girlfriend who can't seem to satisfy you, why are you still here?”

“Well, obviously, because I fucking love you, you dumbass!”

“Nah, you don’t love me,” you replied, twisting the knob to the front door, “You love what I can do for you. But I’m done with your shit.”

“Who do you think you’re talking to-”

“I’m serious this time. I’m done. I’m tired of it, and I’m done.”

And the door closes on another relationship as you exit your apartment. But in an effort to put on a strong face for your grandmother, you suck up the tears, and walk down the stairs to your car.

The surround sound in your living room now blasts SZA, an artist you never thought you’d catch yourself listening to, but due to your consistent presence around Riri, the genre of music rubbed off on you.

It’s a song called ‘Shirt’, with a hypnotic base and lyrics that you’ve been relating to all too much these past few days. Especially when you find yourself reopening a text message from a number you should have long deleted.

“I miss you, baby. I know I did you wrong, but I��m ready for us again. Can we please talk? I know you still have my number. I love you <3”

You replace your phone with a new blunt, a sigh escaping your lips. After lighting the dark green-ish roll, you lean back into the comfort of your couch. Yet, you don’t take a drag from the joint. You just watch the light red embers around the rim of the blunt slowly burn down it’s length. You let the music consume you, with the base so powerful it influences the beat of your heart, and the lyrics hitting too close to home.

With an intake of air, you allow the music, and your emotions, to consume you.

“Riri, I do not know about this…”

“Relax, it’ll be fine, I’ll tell her before she gets too upset.”

Shuri’s concern fell on deaf ears as Riri was finding a hiding place for the pack of blunts in her hand. Though she knew she’d probably get a talking to for her little stunt, the opportunity was too good to pass up.

Riri had been staying at your apartment for the weekend since her mother was out of town, and with the engineer not wanting to be alone in her mothers absence, you allowed her to come over. You were comfortable enough with Riri to let her into your space, to which she was greatly appreciative of. Though your home was a great contrast to the childhood bungalow she grew up in, with it’s modern grey finishes, black appliances, and overall sleek look, there was a warm and welcoming feel to it. Riri was surprised to feel so welcomed, being that it was her first time coming over to your place since the two of you started talking.

“Those TikTok trends will get you in trouble, friend,” Shuri says, the sigh in her voice audible through the cellular device. “If she is as dependent on those cannabis-rolls as you describe, I do not think hiding her source of sanity will be a good idea for a prank.”

“Oh my god, for once please say blunts. I’m begging you, for my own sake,”

“I cannot! It does not sound right!”

“And neither do cannabis-rolls, it sounds like cinnamon rolls’ suspicious cousin!”

“You just refuse to listen to reason, don’t you?”

Riri was silent on her hand, though Shuri could hear small grunts, of which she assumed to be because the other scientist had finally found a place worthy of hiding the pack of blunts.

“She won’t be too mad. She can’t stay at me, she never does. Imma just tell her where they are before she gets too upset, and all will be good!”

“...and that is how you tell her you love her? By hiding something important of hers? My, you Americans have a very weird way of showing affection.”

Riri scoffed at Shuri’s accusation, rolling her eyes as she returned to her place on the couch in the living room. “First of all, miss ma’am, it’s called having a bit of fun! I’ve got it under control.”

That wasn’t an entire lie. Riri had a good understanding of your behaviors and actions - at least, she thought she did - and while she didn’t take advantage of the soft spot you had for her, she did have a habit of letting her intrusive thoughts get the better of her. There was no telling how this would play out, but Riri was ever the optimist, and was sure that nothing would get too out of hand.

“And don’t be talking like you ain’t got no lil’ boo thang you don’t get weird around! I be seeing how you look at your phone on Facetime.~”

Before Shuri could respond to Riri’s incredulous accusation, the sound of the front door opening caught the attention of the two genius women. Riri whispered a quick goodbye to the Wakandan royal before quickly hanging up her phone, taking a laying position on the couch, and pretended to be surfing Netflix as you came back into the apartment.

“You know you’re expensive as shit, lil’ girl.” You huff, as you plop down the bags of food on the coffee table before Riri. She had purposefully sent you to get seafood so that she would have enough time to scour your home and get familiar with the place, as well as to plan out her prank. And maybe because she wanted some seafood as well. She knew the effect of her puppy dog eyes on you, and it worked every single time.

She feigned a gasp as she sat up, a smile from ear to ear plastering itself on her face. “Aww, you do love me!”

Riri watches as you head into the kitchen to get some additional utensils. Now all that was left was to play the waiting game.

Since your return, things had been chill. Riri had put on a Disney movie and the two of you dug right into your food. That, however, was two hours ago, and its just now that you decide to leave the living room to go to your room, for what Riri assumed was your blunts. And when you came back out with a weird look on your face, the engineer knew that the real clock had just started.

From then, Riri could tell you weren’t really focusing on the next movie being played. Your eyes may have physically been on the screen, but your mind wasn’t there. Three hours in, your knee began shaking, whether it was out of frustration or just as a form of stimulus, Riri couldn’t quite tell.

Four hours in, and Riri started to notice how you were creating more and more distance from her. She had been giving Shuri the play by play at this point, to which the Wakandan Royal was already preparing her ‘I told you so’s to the young engineer. You went back into your room again, this time for longer. Riri knew that you now knew your joints were missing from your nightstand. She could hear the rustling and movement of objects from your room. Anxiety began to pool in her stomach. Though determined to see things through to the end, she’d sat her phone up in a position she thought not so visible to record the interaction.

At this point, five hours had passed, and you were becoming noticeably restless. Not having the one thing that could keep you calm and collected around Riri was driving you insane. You knew you put your blunts on your nightstand, you had pre-rolled them before you went to pick Riri up from her house that afternoon. You were certain that they were there when you left, and the fact that they weren’t made your anxiety spike.

“Riri!” You called from your room, actively breathing in and out to try and ground yourself from the tightness that was forming in your chest.

Riri jumped a bit when you called her name. It was loud, and uncommon for your voice to be at that volume. “Y-Yeah?”

Riri saw you come out of your room, and your entire demeanor has changed. Riri had only ever known you to be this cool, stoic person, who always had a handle on things. Besides that one night where she accidentally triggered you, this was the first time she’s seen you so…rigged.

“Did you see a pack of blunts anywhere?”

Maybe Shuri was right, Riri thought, as now there was guilt also pooling in her stomach from the sight of you agitated.

“No…no I don’t think so-”

You barely gave her enough time to respond before you started searching the television stand. Perhaps you had moved it last minute, you thought, but the surface of the furniture gave away no clues. You then made a beeline for the kitchen, thinking that maybe you could have misplaced the pack there when grabbing your keys off the countertop.

Riri got up from the couch, approaching your searching figure. “It ain’t too late, maybe call your plug or somethin’?”

The utensils drawer you let go of closed a bit too loudly, at least, louder than Riri had expected.

“My plug is out of town,” you told her, exiting the kitchen via the other side of the island that rested in the middle. Your next target of search was the couch - maybe it had slipped between the cushion, “he won’t be back ‘til tomorrow, and those were the last two blunts i had till then.”

Damn. Riri fucked up.

Throughout your search the engineer could tell how visibly worked up you were becoming. Agitation in the way that you walked, anxiousness in your voice. And then your next words brought absolute dread to Riri.

“Why is your phone sat up like that?”

Shit. She was caught.

“Uhm…”

“Ri, are you fucking with me right now?”

Riri didn’t like the tone in your voice. It was a tone you never held with her. One of anger, and hurt. “Are you tryna play a fucking prank on me?”

“Okay, okay, okay, before you get mad-”

“Riri, I’m not gon’ ask you again-”

“I was just tryna be funny-”

“Where is my shit, Riri?”

Your words had begun to overlap, and nothing the two of you were speaking were reaching each others ears. Quite frankly, you were hurt. You didn’t think Riri of all people would pull something like this. It didn’t take a genius to know that you smoked for a reason, and the reason being to cope. A stranger could have put two and two together, what could have motivated Riri to do something so careless and inconsiderate?

At some point in your word exchange, Riri became less sorry and more upset, defensive. “It ain’t like you’ll die without them, (Y/N),” she scoffed, and her words made you suck your teeth in annoyance.

“Because you don’t understand, Ri-”

“What do you mean, ‘I don’t understand’-”

“-just tell me where my shit is!-”

“-naw, tell me what I don’t understand, (Y/N)! You don’t talk to me enough to understand shit!”

“Why can’t you just tell me where my blunts are! What the fuck is so hard about that!?”

“I’ll tell you when you tell me what the fuck I don’t understand, (Y/N)-”

All of a sudden, a loud crash broke the yelling match that your exchange had broken into. It happened too fast for you to register, but the broken vase that laid on your floor next to your feet spoke enough volumes that your voice could not convey.

“You wanna know what you don’t fucking understand, Ri?!” The volume in your voice caused the other woman to go quiet, a lump forming her throat.

“You don’t understand that I love you, okay? I love you, but I can’t love you, and I can’t love you because I love you-”

There was a pause in your outburst, and when Riri went to open her mouth and release an involuntary ‘what’, you cut her off.

“You make me feel shit that I can’t fucking deal with- I can’t deal with it, cuz I don’t know how! You do little shit, and-and part of me wants to let that shit in but I can’t! Cuz ain’t nobody every do the shit you do to me, make me feel the way you make me feel! All I fucking know is hurt, and pain, and mu’fuckers never doin’ right by me, and you fucking know that! And it’s too much for me to comprehend, too much for me to fucking feel and the only way I can deal with it is with my fucking weed!”

To say that Riri was shocked was an understatement. The guilt that she was feeling was stronger than anything she had ever felt before. Of course, her intentions were never to hurt you or to cause you to have another meltdown, but her actions and language had said otherwise. She had truly fucked up.

“So please, for the last fucking time, just tell me where my shit is, Ri!”

There was a long silence that followed after that. Riri could not look at you, too riddled with guilt to face you head on. And for the first time since your outburst, you noticed just how small and closed in she made herself.

“....behind your game…in the tv stand cabinet…” her voice came out small, meek, as she forced herself to speak and give you the directions to the hidden pack of blunts.

Within the second, you’d went back to the TV stand, retrieved your blunt packets, and Riri heard your footsteps trail off into the distance. Her body flinched as you slammed the front door behind you, leaving Riri to stand alone in the living room in a deafening silence from the mess she created.

Half an hour had passed with you outside, but you could care less about the concept of time. The cold had since penetrated your thin hoodie, but it was a while before your skin could actually feel it, as you were still heated from your argument with Riri. Now that you were in a rational state of mind - as rational as one could be with their mind muddled with cannabis - you replayed the exchange like a loop in your head. The things you did, the words you said.

You’d laid everything bare, and not in the way that you wanted to.

You took a drag from your blunt, your lungs oddly welcoming the sting that accompanied the intake of smoke. Having not smoked at all that day, the thought of it being fresh air to you was ironic, especially with the crisp winter breeze that was competing with the cannabis smoke for room in your lungs. Your head found refuge in your hands, struggling to hold back the tears you desperately wanted to cry, but the voice in your head told you to hold in. The same voice that told you to uphold this stoic persona for protection, and yet, you think it’s actually hurt you more than anything else.

The front door to your apartment building opens behind you as you sit on the steps. While there’s no snow on the ground, there's a light flurry of snowflakes swirling in the wind.

Riri is behind you, hesitant, with a blanket wrapped around her, but big enough for the both of you.

“It’s cold out here,” she speaks, though not confidently like usually, as she slowly approaches your sitting form. When she sees she meets no resistance, she chooses to sit next to you, albeit keeping a slight space between the two of you. She drapes the blanket around your shoulders, and although you don’t show much of a response, she hopes that you’re thankful for the added layer of protection against the cold.

“I’m….I’m sorry, (Y/N)...” Riri confesses. “It was just supposed to be a joke, I didn’t-...I didn’t think shit through…shouldn’t have done it in the first place…”

Without a word, you stood up, letting the blanket fall onto the place you once sat. Your feet took you a few feet away from the staircase of the brownstone apartment building, smoke escaping from your lips as you took another pull of your blunt.

Riri stood up as well, taking the discarded part of the blanket and wrapping it back around herself. “I know I said some shit I shouldn’t have said, okay? It was stupid- I was stupid, and I’m sorry, okay…can you please say something?”

What could you say? What did you want to say? A moment of silence passed before you turned your body to face the engineer that stood on the steps.

She looked beautiful. The snowflakes that made a home in her butterfly locs, her pink nose becoming even more rosy from the cold. A simple appearance to anyone else, but absolutely ethereal to you. It made your chest hurt.

“I’mma be real with you, Ri,” you began, twirling the blunt in your hands with a sigh, “I don’t know what you see in me.”

It was true; till this day you still had no clue why the engineer was even attracted to you. Physical appearance could only go so far, and after a year of talking, what could you had possibly given to Riri for her to like?

“I’m a fucking mess. I can’t even think without a blunt in my hands. I can’t love myself; love is a concept that’s been fucked up for me for the longest…I feel fucking broken because I can’t return the simplest of affection to you, when you do it like it’s nothin’...what could I have possibly given to you for you to stick around for a year and not get tired of me and my bullshit?”

You hadn’t realized that Riri had moved from her position on the steps, and was now in front of you. The engineer reached for your free hand, holding it close to her chest. You could feel her heartbeat, the muscle pounding furiously in her chest.

“It ain’t bullshit, (Y/N),” She starts, and your immediate reaction is to scoff but the eye contact that she holds with you is so unmoving, your body forgets about the action, “and you’re not broken…you’re hurt. And I hate the bitches that did this shit to you, made you think this way, because you’re not, do you hear me?”

Her words create a tightness in your throat, and now, there’s a wetness on your face that isn’t coming from the snowflakes that land on your cheeks.

“I love you…I love you because I know deep down under all that hurt, and pain, and wanting to hide, and being scared of love…there’s a heart in there. Its hiding because it don’t want shit to repeat, but I promise you, if you let me have it…if you let me have your heart…I can make all that go away.”

It was a tempting offer, really. One that you’d kill to hear over and over and over again, but Riri gave it to you without even having to ask. It made you wonder just how much had she given to you, and you were to busy shielding yourself to realize it?

“...you mean that?”

“Would I be out here in the freezin’ fucking cold with you if I didn’t?”

Her words brought some semblance of a laugh from your lips. Your hand began to move on its own - you watched as it broke free from Riri’s hands and instead went to caress her face. It was a small act of affection, but for you it was something incredibly big and hard to do. Yet, there wasn’t a strain in your actions, nor hesitancy. It felt…right.

Your gaze went between the blunt in one hand, and Riri who occupied the other. Gulping down the lump in your throat, your gaze refocused back onto Riri, staring right into her chocolate brown eyes.

“I’m about to do something,” You said, “I’m about to do something, and it’s been a long time since I did it, and-”

“Baby,” Riri interjects, and the pet name she uses for you sent a wave of shivers throughout your body. You couldn’t remember the last time that happened to you. “You ain’t gotta tell me…just do it.”

Your gaze went back to the blunt in your hands, burning away, the smoke from it easily getting lost in the wind. With a deep breath, you tossed the joint onto the concrete ground beneath you, take Riri’s face into both your hands, and brung her in for a kiss you waited a year too long to give her.

Up until a year ago, the only thing you could rely on was your music and a blunt.

But as you stand in the December snow, kissing the woman who you’d been too afraid to give your heart to, a realization comes to you.

The realization that maybe, you could open your heart once more. Maybe you could depend on Riri Williams, too.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[sigridstumb]

Just Trying to Unlock the Quest

-- see, no, it's not that I don't want to start that treatment,it's that I haven't unlocked the questline yet!

When I started, I was really glad that my character RNG'd an actual DIAGNOSIS, right? Like, I feel really, *really* bad for the folks playing characters without even a diagnosis! That whole starting area just sucks. I got to skip the I'm Not Crazy, I'm Sick quest. Thank fucking goodness.

So, anyway, I began the main quest-line in the zone, Find Care Providers. I got the Rheumatologist right away! I did slack off a bit at that point, and didn't do the Interventional Pain Management quest until a lot later. And I really really WANTED to do the Medical Cannabis quest, but it was faction-locked for me for a while. (My starting faction had Gold-Tier Health Insurance, but was locked to an employer who monitored my healthcare and didn't allow some things. I mean, it was a tradeoff, and I knew that from the start, and I don't regret my choice - EVERY faction has its ads and its disads, right - but it did faction-lock some stuff.)

After I completed Rheumatologist, it was time to grind faction with him and my PCP (primary care provider.) I got ultrasounds, MRIs, and CTs. I had labs taken. After all of those, I got the Immunosuppressor buff! It gave me a +1 to Stamina and a +1 to Range.

My Rheum had also given me the prompt for the next area, Podiatry. I struggled with the first quest, Find a Podiatrist. In my character creation, the RNG gave me Fat, which I really like but I understand it's not for everyone. What I hadn't realized, though, is that in the game it's a fucking debuff!! The first two Podiatrists I tried to faction were very hostile to my Fat. I eventually found a Podiatrist who was neutral to Fat. After I completed the fetch quests - X-Ray, MRI - she sent me on the Orthotics quest. That was actually pretty decent. I did the mainline quest, but I liked the buff I got from the reward, so I did the extra level. And??? The item and the buff are AMAZING. I got AFOs, which in addition to a massive range buff (and +1 STA) gave me a +2 to armor!! I spent some Development points and taught myself to knit socks, so now I have over a dozen pairs of knit socks that fit under the AFO and protect my skin from chafing. It's fantastic.

At this point my faction had shifted enough that I could finally to the Medical Cannabis quest!

***

dangitall, y'all, now I want this to actually be a video game.

[csprslvt]

teacher's aide.

new series alert! you and i, and her has officially come to an end (unless i decide to go back to it or am requested too) i have decided to write something a little lighter, more for fun! teacher aide is a collage au featuring volleyball player abby and campus dealer ellie. couldn't decide who i wanted reader to end up with so, why not make them fight for your attention? sounds good 2 me!

Chapter one

Summary: reader is a teacher's aide and struggles to keep professionalism with two of her students.

Warnings: drug use(weed), mentions of sex, foul language, reader is described is slightly described as wearing "girly" shoes/clothes and shorter than abby but it completely unknown other than that when it comes to skin tone, hair type, etc.

Being in University was a lot, especially being a Physics major and teacher aid for the same subject. You loved it, it was your passion and your professor was great. Its just the fucking students that drove you crazy.

So here you were, on the doorstep of Ellie Williams’ dorm, once again.

Was it wrong to smoke with one of your students? Probably yes. But right now with the amount of people accidentally setting fire during one of the labs where you specifically told them to keep substance A away from substance E because it could cause ignition, you could care less about morals.

Besides, Ellie was a friend. Maybe this was unprofessional but caring was beyond you right now.

The door opened before you could even knock. Ellie’s eyes lit up when she saw you and a smirk grew on her face.

“Come to see me again? It's the third time this week.”

“How’d you know it was me?” You questioned her, stepping inside and closing the door behind you.

“I could hear your heels clicking from miles away babe.” 

“They're platforms, not heels.”

“Whatever shoes are shoes.”

“Of course you think that with your raggedy ass converse.”

“Damn professor, no need to attack me like that.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I'm stressed.”

“Now that I can help, come sit.” Ellie led you in and she grabbed her electric dab rig, filling it with some wax. You sat on her bed, watching her prepare the rig. She took the liberty of opening the windows and stuffing a towel under the door to prevent the smell from escaping. 

“Extra cautious this time huh.”

“Well last time I used the rig it stank so bad it leaked into the common area. But it's your favorite, so we’re using it.”

Ellie handed you the rig and you grabbed it with greedy hands. Inhaling and exhaling, you felt smoke filling your lungs and after a few minutes you were completely relaxed. Dabs always hit the best. They were your favorite for that reason.

Ellie hit it after you, she was kind of an expert at it, when she was high you could hardly tell. You were sure she attended your classes baked. She always said it helped her focus. She took a few puffs and then got up, grabbing something from the mini fridge. Somewhere along the lines of your meetings she started to get your favorite snacks from when you got the munchies. She was caring for sure, or maybe she got tired of hearing your high self complain of cravings for edible cookie dough.

You felt so…content. It was like gravity was so much stronger, slowing your movements, your muscles were relaxed like jelly. You flopped down on Ellie’s bed on her constellation themed bed sheets. It smelt of her, laundry detergent and cannabis. It didn't seem like a pleasant combination, but it always soothed you.

“Gimme my cookie dough.” you mumbled and Ellie smiled. She loved when you were like this in front of her, happy, stress free, maybe a little vulnerable. She handed you the jar of Tollhouse edible cookie dough she had personally paid for. You immediately dug in and seeing you so joyful made her stomach turn in the most lovely way possible. She didn't know how you hadn't realized how much she liked you. She let you use her personal stash for free, bought you snacks, called you babe. But you were as oblivious as ever. Hiding under this mask of professionalism, never letting her get close enough unless you were high.

“My fucking students are drivin’ me nuts Els.”

Els. Oh she loved it when you called her Els.

“What’d they do babe?” 

“They almost set the lab on fire after I warned them a hundred million trillion times to not mix substance A and E because it would cause ignition. And they care too much about looking cute to put on their googles so fucking whats his name got baking soda in his eye! And whose fault did that come down to? Me!”

“What's his name?”

“The crusty dude with a receding hairline, he thinks he's hot shit.”

“Owen?”

“Yes! Fucking Owen!”

Ellie threw her head back in laughter, you were such a kind, patient person to all of your students seeing this side of you was amusing.

“His hairline isn't that bad.”

“Dude he's like 20 something and looks 38.”

The smile Ellie had never left her face.

“Okay yea, good point.”

After eating, you ended up falling asleep. Sleeping in your students' bed? Probably also bad, cuddling with her, was probably even worse. But you blamed it on the drugs, on how tiny the bed was. You always snuck out while Ellie was still asleep, she didn't seem to mind. And though you were treating her like a booty call minus the sex and replace it with smoking she didn't really act like it bothered her. So, you assumed she didn't care. 

That was the thing though, she couldn't help but to be disappointed every time she woke up alone. She just hid it well.

You snuck out of Ellie’s bed, escaping from her grasp on your waist. It was nearly 6 am. You had been out for many hours and you had a class to get to at 8. You left the dorm, shutting the door behind you gently and as you walked out, someone caught your eye, watching you.

Abby Anderson,med student and captain of the volleyball team. Also, one of your students. She raised an eyebrow at your disheveled appearance. Fuck, you looked like you were doing the walk of shame.  You ignored her, pretending like you didn't make eye contact and left quickly for your own dorm. It wasn't too far away from Ellies, maybe an 8 minute walk. You showered, got ready and studied before class, same routine as always.

When it was time for work you were exhausted so you stopped by Ruston Coffee for a pick me up.

Upon entering once again, was Abby Anderson, she probably had the same idea as you, stopping to get a cold brew to stay awake. Still you didn't want to interact with her beyond professional reasons especially since she caught you sneaking out of Ellie’s dorm.

Your luck must've run out though, because she approached you, standing tall in a black wife beater and jeans, hair in her signature braid she took in your appearance. 

“So… Ellie Williams huh.” 

“Not even a hello before you interrogate me huh.” You responded, looking up at her. If you were anyone else you’d be intimidated by her muscular arms and snarky smile. But this was Abby, and you kept an eye on your students, you knew she was just like any other, she often cracked jokes and laughed in class with her friends, Owen and Mel. You weren't afraid.

“You got me there y/n I suppose I'm feeling a bit nosey. I saw you sneak out bright and early.”

“Stalker.” 

“So you're not denying it.”

“You know Anderson with the amount you're questioning me about my sex life I would say you wanna take me on a date too.”

Abby smiled, “Maybe I do.” 

You didn't expect that. You didn't have time to respond before your name was called for your order, you quickly turned away from her and grabbed it. Fleeing as if you committed a crime. Abby’s smile dropped. Perhaps she made you uncomfortable? She hoped not.

In reality you just didn't know what to say. You were never good with emotions, with flirting, so it was a miracle your name was called. Besides you already broke rules cuddling up with Ellie, it would be better to stay away from Abby’s advances. Right? She would give up, right?

You didn't avoid Abby for very long, she was in your next period. You stood beside your boss, Professor Servopoulus. Or to you, simply Tess. She insisted that you don't use formalities, because it made her feel “older than she was.” Today was an easier day, you would help Tess with lesson plans and grade some papers while she lectured on matter and energy. There was a mix of types of students in your classes. Some medical majors like Abby with physics as a prerequisite and some Astronomy majors like Ellie where physics was a necessity. There were always some like Owen who was in engineering and a few other students that seemed too simply just be there.

 You sat at Tess’s desk while she lectured, she hated lectures she preferred lab days but sometimes traditional learning was in the lesson plan. You noticed some students nodding off an hour in. Of fucking course one of them was Ellie. Tess gave you a look and gestured for you to wake her up. You stood up and walked up the lecture hall, all the way in the back where Ellie was napping. Eyes watched you, everyone was quiet holding in laughter at Ellie’s display. You kneeled facing her, 

“Williams, wake up.” You whispered.

No reaction, the closer you got the more you noticed some drool at the corner of her lips and the faint sound of snoring created giggles in the audience.

You almost smiled yourself at the noise. Ellie was in deep REM stage sleep. You tried again,

“Ellie. Wake up!” Now you were really smiling. She didn't move.

Finally you reached out and shook her gently, “Ellie wake up oh my god.”

Ellie jumped; she seemed to have forgotten where she was because she mumbled, “Babe, five more minutes.” before putting her head down again. You blushed, leave it to Ellie to break professional relationships in front of an entire class. Luckily no one seemed to hear and if they did they laughed it off. “Ellie Williams!” You nudged her, she opened her eyes and looked around finally grasping her surroundings, turned beet red and sat up. Everyone was staring at her.

“My bad Professor Servopoulus! Sorry Y/n!” You simply nodded at her; you were totally gonna bully her about this during your next smoke session. You woke up the other students and returned to the desk. The entire time one set of eyes was watching you, observing intently. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Abby Anderson was a people watcher, and no, it wasn't creepy. She was simply interested in the ways people interact, the way different mannerisms appear in relationships, but most importantly she was interested in you.

You, her pretty teacher’s aide who was shorter than her even in those platform mary janes with buckles on them you wore everyday, you whose hands were soft and manicured when they brushed with hers handing out supplies for labs, you who smelt of Coffee beans and clean shampoo, you who was gentle and understanding when helping struggling students, you who seemed to have it all together, you who she could look at for ages just watching your little quirks and focused expressions.

But it was clear that she wasn't the only one who had her eye on you. Ellie Williams seemed to gravitate towards you, asking you an abundance of questions during labs, looked at you with bright green eyes as if you created the sun itself and seemed to be just as enamored with you as Abby was.

 It isn't everyday that you would see a teacher's aide that beautiful and around her age. She was sure you were an upperclassman no older than 22, who simply had a love for physics. That was something she would never understand. As a Medical student, she was only in physics because she had to be but you being there made it a lot easier. You were very helpful and a good communicator, having you was a blessing to everyone who wasn't as great with physics.

By the time the lecture came to an end, she tried to make eye contact with you and wave goodbye but you avoided looking at her, instead chatting it up with Ellie who stopped to ask you some “questions” as you were leaving.

The smile quickly dropped from her face as she watched the two of you. Your interactions seemed so natural. There had to be something going on, and she was going to figure it out.

Notes; pt 2?