#discussion of addiction

[my-traumacore-sideblog]

i also would like 2 point out that i find it so fukin weird that ppl talk abt like how they think substances should b more controlled but then like don't mention how most big shops where u would go 2 buy groceries hav an entire section of the shop dedicated 2 alcohol and when u go 2 pay there's lighters and packs of cigarettes behind the counter

imo alcohol and cigarettes r better examples of products that contain addictive substances that r legal that r not being regulated properly, like i don't get y ppl always go after medicine? like bruh

like okay, u can argue that adults should b able 2 buy some smokes and a drink, sure whatever that's not my point, my point is that while CBD is legal 100% where i live i hav 2 actually go onto a online shop 2 buy it, in other countries where it's been legal 4 longer there r physical shops that r specifically 4 that stuff, it's not in the same shop as the fucking groceries that i need 2 buy in order 2 eat and live

i agree that ppl should b allowed 2 do what they want w their bodies 100% i just think that in the case of alcohol and cigarettes they r kinda showing up in places that they mayb shouldn't just bc of it being the norm 2 b able 2 go into any grocery shop and get some alcohol and cigarettes and that becoming an expectation, idk i just think that they should mayb b exclusive 2 areas (like bars or smoking areas) or shops (like smoke shops) where it's specifically 4 that and ppl who r trying not 2 relapse r not gonna hav 2 deal w getting triggered just trying 2 get groceries

tbh as a former alcoholic tho yeh 4 me it was also abt being unhappy, i was in a situation where i had been taught that the only time i was allowed 2 express my emotions was when i had been drinking

that being said tho it is very triggering 4 me 2 go into a shop and just c an entire isle of the shop dedicated 2 alcohol and then hav 2 sometimes go past there bc of there not being enough room 2 go a different way

idk it's late and im rambling so hopefully this makes sense

Curious about something you mentioned in your post last week, you said that in your opinion all drugs should be legal and I’m curious about how that would be a positive at all? Like I get weed bc it’s pretty harmless but when I think of drugs I think of cocaine and heroin, which have destroyed so many lives. If it was widely available wouldn’t that end up hurting more people than helping? That’s just my opinion but I’m curious on the other side

I do think all drugs should be legal. This is said knowing that addiction runs in my family and that the only reason my older sister is my *sister* is due to drug use and addiction. Otherwise she'd be my cousin.

Making drugs illegal does not stop people from getting high. It does not stop drug related crime. And it certainly does not stop drugs from tearing families apart.

Addiction is a symptom of a larger problem. Solve the problem and the addict problem goes away. Solve the addict problem and drugs stop ruining lives and destroying families and creating massive amounts of drug related violence. Places that have roled out decriminalization strategies effectively have seen an overall reduction in crime rates across the board, a reduction in recreational drug use, and a reduction in bloodborne illness like HIV. Creating safe needle exchanges as well as safe places to get high with medical staff onhand has also created a locale where very few people die from overdose.

Most people hear "decriminalize all drugs" and think I mean a free-for-all. I don't. I think the drug market should be regulated. I don't think you should be able to get ketamine or heroin over the counter at a walmart like you can get asprin. But I think it's time to stop putting people in jail for getting high.

My aunt tore her life and her family and her health apart for years while she was addicted to heroin. My sister, her daughter, needed to be removed from her care due to the amazingly bad choices she made as a mother due to her addiction and her prioritizing drugs over the health and safety of her daughter. My aunt has had multiple heart attacks from the damage the constant drug use did to her body.

My aunt is more than a decade sober and do you know why? It's not because she got a wakeup call when her daughter was taken away, because at the time she willingly and freely signed her over to my parents because that got her "out of [her] hair". It's not because she had a heart attack, because she went right back to it the moment she was out of the hospital. It's not even because she spent time in rehab and prison, because the moment she was out she was using again.

No, my aunt got sober because her life changed. She was put on a better pain management plan. She got out of her shitty marriage to her shitty husband. She completed some education to make her more hireable so she didn't have to rely on less than safe means of paying her bills. She reconnected with my sister and reforged their relationship once she was 18. She bought her own house. She found love with someone who didn't give a shit about her past and brought out the best in her.

My aunt was a deeply unhappy person. Heroin made life more tolerable for her. Until she couldn't tolerate life without it. Until she'd do anything, anything, to get her next high.

A lot of addicts are addicts because they are self-medicating for something else and their drug of choice has chemical properties that makes their brains crave it more. If you fix the "deeply unhappy" part, you create a healthier environment for that addict to take control over their life again. Without it, they are far more likely to continue to relapse.

Knowing this, why would I then want to add the threat of prison and jailtime- life-ruining things themselves- to an addict's list of concerns?

Look up rat park sometime. In the rat paradise, drugged water was freely offered, and occasional a rat here or there would take a hit or two, but rarely enough to even get high and almost never habitually. Addiction literally didn't exist even though the rats were taking addictive substances. But the rats in cages, seperated from each other, with no enrichment, crammed into small spaces and stressed to hell? Those rats took hit after hit after hit until they overdosed and died. The addict rats were deeply unhappy. The drugs were their only escape. The paradise rats had to be lured in with sweetened drugs to even consider and even then they rejected them. The caged rats did not need sweetner, even though the drugs made the water bitter.

If we can see such a stark difference in rats having their needs met vs rats experiencing isolation and stress, what would happen if we showed human addicts the same consideration?

I think a lot better results than continuing to jail deeply unhappy and desperate people for doing the only thing they can think of to cope.

[steddieas-shegoes]

crawling out

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘hole’

rated m | 404 words

cw: mention of addiction (nothing specific or detailed), mention of rehab, break-up | tags: rock star Eddie Munson, making amends, angst with a hopeful/happy ending, hurt/comfort, getting back together

- - - - - - - - - -

“Keep digging the hole for yourself. Eventually, no one will find you.”

Those were the last words Steve had said to him over a year ago.

They were in the middle of tour, their first headlining one, and Steve had been antsy. Eddie was picking fights with him for no god damn reason.

Steve got sick of it.

Steve left.

The band finished that tour, Eddie went on a bender and nearly died, and the band took a break.

- - -

Rehab sucked. Not because of the withdrawals; Those weren’t all that bad compared to some of the horror stories he’d heard. He was alone.

And being alone was what got him there in the first place.

Steve warned him he’d be alone the further into this hole he put himself and he was right.

- - -

But it’s been months since rehab, months since he felt the urge to bury himself in the hole he dug for himself, months since he started clawing his way out.

He’d spent the first month with Wayne, who welcomed him with open arms the way he always did.

The second month was spent traveling to see all the kids, apologize to them for everything.

All of them had quickly sided with Steve, rightfully so, and he’d barely heard from them after…well, after. They all accepted his apologies, wanted to start working towards friendship again.

Next was a trip back to California to visit the band, who all stuck around to help out in the studio and write songs for others while they figured out what they wanted to do. They all loved him, told him so in the way they looked proud to see him standing outside of the hole he dug.

Now, standing outside the apartment Steve shared with Robin, he had the strong urge to jump back into the hole.

“Just knock,” he said to himself.

He lifted his hand.

The door swung open.

Steve stood there, just as beautiful and perfect as the day he left Eddie, frowning.

He looked him up and down, took in how he’d changed, put on a little bit of weight, trimmed his hair to his shoulders, got a new tattoo.

The date Steve left.

Steve’s eyes locked on his.

“You still digging that hole?”

“No. Filling it in actually. My arms got tired.”

Steve bit his lip, the telltale sign he was hiding a laugh.

“Need help?”

Eddie smiled. “Couldn’t hurt, sweetheart.”

[starscreamingg]

Detroit Become Human and why does this game decide that the problem in society is individual people treating androids poorly because those androids are choking them out of the workforce and NOT the corporations and governments who deliberately designed the androids to do this

[afrouniverse]

This was something I drew around.. February? March? I don't remember, I have a horrible sense of the passage of time

Basically this is just a scene I drew out for my SCP fanfic, which I was planning to include inside the fic itself, but unfortunately Ao3 kept insisting that it's too big and therefore couldn't be included. I was bummed out and just forgot to share it. So here it is now!

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

liam seems to be stuck in a bad circle and it is honestly really sad: admits he has addiction problems but claims that he is all better now, gets a new gf and a new dog, moves to a new place, splits up with the gf/abandons the dog, spirals into addiction, rinse repeat

I agree it's really sad anon - I have a slightly different perspective on the cycle that Liam is stuck in. I think the starting point is distress. I think Liam is very distressed a lot of the time. He responds to that distress by seeking oblivion in substances. His distress is temporarily alleviated, but he behaves in ways that cause him and other people more distress. Eventually his consumption of substances causes too many problems for himself and other people and he starts a period of abstinence (I assume most of these are proceeded by periods of rehab, but they might not be).

Stopping drinking and taking drugs doesn't address the reason he was seeking oblivion. When he abstains from drugs and alcohol - either he replaces them with some other way of seeking oblivion (exercise has been one that he's mentioned more than once) - or he white knuckles it. But eventually the distress is too much - and he seeks oblivion again.

He's been describing this cycle in pretty much every interview for years.

I hope one day he'll find some support that will help him address the underlying distress. I think until he does, we won't see any changes.

[votive-candle]

?? / ?? / 2022 (?)

these sketches were from 2022, i think...? i never shared them on tumblr

i was reading William S. Burroughs' book 'Junkie' (1953), and i don't know why, but this character, and the descriptions of him really just... stuck with me? i don't know why, but these passages from the first few pages of the book never quite left my mind

We went into the front room. There was a small radio, a china Buddha with a votive candle in front of it, pieces of bric-a-brac: A man was lying on a studio couch. He sat up as we entered the room and said hello and smiled pleasantly, showing discolored, brownish teeth. It was a Southern voice with the accent of East Texas. Jack said, "Roy, this is a friend of mine. He has some morphine he wants to sell." The man sat up straighter and swung his legs off the couch. His jaw fell slackly, giving his face a vacant look. The skin of his face was smooth and brown. The check- bones were high and he looked Oriental. His ears stuck out at right angles from his asymmetrical skull. The eyes were brown and they had a peculiar brillance, as though points of light were shining behind them. The light in the room glinted on the points of light in his eyes like an opal. "How much do you have?" he asked me.

despite being a bit of-its-time, i do love Burroughs' frank writing style, the themes he explores, and something about his introduction of Roy made me excited for every other interaction with him in the book - lo and behold he became my favourite character, the one i hinged on reading about every other scene, and one who i've based many OCs on since i read of him

the "votive candle" paragraph is where i got my current username

anyways, this is my way of saying here is my new twitter account lmao hope you enjoy byeee!!

[awesomesauce-n-sassypants]

The global nature of things can be overwhelming because we have the privilege (yes, it’s a good thing even tho it’s not fun) of seeing all the bad every time everywhere, but on the flip side, I genuinely love that when I fixate on some media (tv, movie, book etc etc) and it’s just mediocre… or horrible…or even absolutely perfect… that there’s someone else out there who’s just as obsessed with it for whatever reason and seeing them express that interest leads me to actually weirdly feel immediate gratification with intense mouse-like glee.

All this to say, I think I’m addicted to tumblr y’all.

[hatsunevitu]

i like to think that every time cartman agrees with kyle on something, kyle gets really confused and subconsciously waits for cartman to start an argument so it goes like

kyle: …Yes, so that’s what I think.

cartman: Cool, I think so too.

kyle: What?

cartman: What?

kyle: Aren’t you gonna argue?…

cartman: Why would I? Your point sounds reasonable.

kyle: No, wait, that’s… that feels kinda weird. What about the part when I said that I formed my opinion based on that one research? Aren’t you gonna check it to see if I didn’t make it up by myself?…

cartman: Wtf, Kyle, you want me to argue with you??

kyle: No, I don’t! …But maybe you should check the last fact I talked about, now that I think about it, the source doesn’t seem very reliable.

cartman: ???????

[jesncin]

As the number one J'onn fan(s) what do you think of jli. I find him so funny in it and he really gets to show off his leadership skills and his funny side. Sorry if this has already been asked before I love all your work.

We're very happy to be called the number one J'onn fans, thank you. This hasn't been asked before so no worries!

I have complicated feelings about J'onn in JLI. On one hand, JLI is a beloved team and absolutely got people to become fans of J'onn. On the other hand it popularized those fans into liking a version of J'onn I personally (half-affectionately) label "meme J'onn". He's got more humor and a chance to shine as the stoic straight man to everyone's silliness, but in the process he's undeniably flanderized and pigeon holed into that role. I categorize him under "Nostalgia J'onn" right there next to DCAU J'onn. I get that people enjoy J'onn as team dad, but the reason he's getting phased out a lot is because being a team player with weak solo potential doesn't keep a character relevant.

I think that's why I struggle discussing his character with MM fans who primarily like him through the DCAU or JLI, they like him for what he brings to a team, and the impression + intrigue he gives off as a potentially interesting character. It's why many (generalizing) DCAU + JLI fans loudly wonder why we aren't getting more Martian Manhunter content from DC. "I haven't really read any of his solos but he seems so cool and powerful and funny in the League stuff" yeah because if you actually read any of his solos you'd recognize how he falls a part the second he has to hold the whole stage himself.

This is a necessary tangent but it's also hard to enjoy how his character is written in older comics when you headcanon him as Black or Black coded. So much of MM fandom is nostalgically attached to J'onn playing team therapist straight man. Which, is a common role white people love tokenizing the One Black Member of a Team into. JLI introduced the whole Choco/Oreo thing with J'onn, which would lead to Ostrander flanderizing it later in his solo. Oh, J'onn is genetically predisposed to be addicted to cookies and then becomes hulk-rage level of violent when they're stolen? That certainly pairs badly with how Black and brown people are profiled through racist drug policies as being "more violent". Oh, this is considered an endearing part of MM lore that his fans love pointing out any chance they get? Because they don't really know anything else about him? Ugh.

I generally have a hard time with team comics because I like jumping into my niche character solos to see how they really tick on their own. Especially when it comes to J'onn, my brain just keeps flipping the pages until I spot a green man lol. But I am trying with JLI since it's so beloved! These overall things just get in my way of fully enjoying it.

[theboywithburninghands]

We’ve arrived. The final chapter, apart from an epilogue. I hope it was worth the wait. Some characters by @noble-crimson and @cleoarrow appear again. Also, @toonsforkicks22 and @fernstarsblog the story is complete now. Phew… I can’t believe I actually did it.

T/W: Violence, parental and emotional abuse, homophobia, drug addiction, era-appropriate sexism.

Primum Peccatum Final Chapter: Thanks for The Memories

Their reception was held within Lakepoint. The function center was decorated with white lace and the occasional splash of red or blue. The round tables, six seats at each, were dressed with white tablecloths, a glass carafe in the middle of each, filled halfway with water and a red and blue rose. Fine white ceramic plates, each with a silverware roll wrapped with a white napkin and a red or blue satin ribbon. On the long rectangular center table was a three-decker Angel food cake, frosted elegantly with white buttercream, purple and green sugar blossoms climbing up the sides. Jade green bottles of champagne, their tops wrapped in gold foil, sat beside dozens of identically arranged flute glasses. To the right of the champagne, a large silver kettle of coffee, several boats of cream and a bowl of frosty sugar cubes beside white mugs on white saucers.

Pomni walked with her husband, hand in hand, to their reserved head table. As was customary, the bride’s side of the family sat with them. Vladimir, Mirella and Zooble sat with them, along with Mr. Kinger. He was family. Pomni was the last to be seated, as she had elected to bring everyone something to drink. Normally, the bride wasn’t to raise a finger for her guests. But it was Pomni’s wedding, and she couldn’t be persuaded otherwise.

“Your vows were absolutely beautiful, piccola, they brought me to tears…” Mirella sighed, sipping from her flute of champagne.

“I am glad they moved you, mother,” Pomni Krolik said. She finished the cup of coffee she had poured for herself, wiping her chin with a napkin. “I spoke from the heart. As you have so often told me not to do.”

Mirella’s reply was cut off by Mr. Kinger.

“Mr. Krolik, what are you to do now? Now that you’re married I assume you must find a trade.” he said, sipping his black coffee.

“I would first like to fully recover from my illness, as well as enjoy some time with my wife, before I seek an occupation.” Jax replied. His tone was pleasant but somewhat uneasy. “There is also the matter of inheritances.”

“Indeed,” Vladimir said. “All of that shall be taken care of. In just a few days, your estate will be prepared. I have the paperwork for the property and for your inheritances in my desk-”

“In the first drawer on the right,” Pomni added. “All your documents to be signed are put there for safekeeping and ease of access.”

“Yes dear, your memory never fails, does it? In the first drawer on the right.” Vladimir smiled. “Goodness, I’m proud of you. You’ve adapted so well to your circumstances… And you were so obstinate before!”

“Adapting is certainly an accurate description,” Pomni said. She picked up her quarter-full flute of champagne and sipped. She was not a fan of drinking. It spoiled her focus. So she opted for a paltry amount for ceremony’s sake.

“I suppose now is as good a time to say so. Welcome to our family.”

A deep voice behind her made Pomni turn in her seat. Drexl Krolik stood, arms tucked behind his back and dwarfing just about everyone at the table. Boone stood at his side, his mouth firmly closed. He met Pomni’s eyes and glanced away.

“Mr. Krolik, I’m delighted to see you! Wasn’t the ceremony lovely?” Mirella asked.

“Quite. I was impressed by my son and my daughter-in-law’s rhetoric,” Drexl said, clapping a massive paw to Jax’s shoulder, who flinched conspicuously.

“And what a performance by your second son!” Kinger exclaimed. “That voice of his is astounding, where did you train him?”

Drexl sniffed. “He’s self taught. My involvement with such frivolities is minimal, I assure you. He is a career driven lad, much like the rest of my family. While we were on the subject, however…”

Drexl turned to look at Pomni, who had quaffed her mostly empty champagne flute.

“I was curious, Mrs. Pomni, if you had the chance to consider my offer? Krolik International would love to have you onboard as a member.”

Pomni took a deep breath and smiled, setting her empty champagne glass down on the table with a clink, a bit of leftover froth trickling down and resting at the bottom of the flute.

“Why yes I have, Mr. Krolik! I’ve pondered your offer for some time now, and after careful consideration, I’ve decided that I’d rather have a job wiping the prime minister’s arse than work for you!”

Kinger put a hand to his mouth in a soft gasp. Zooble made a sound that sounded like an abnormally loud cough. A deafening silence fell over the hall.

“Pomni-!” her father exclaimed. “M-Mr. Krolik, I’m truly sorry, she doesn’t normally drink- I’m certain that she didn’t mean a word of-”

“Father?” Pomni arose from her seat. “Firstly, I am not inebriated. Secondly, I don’t feel at all comfortable working with that man. You’ve already pawned me off once, I’d prefer if you didn’t do it again…”

Her father spun about, a vein popping on his forehead. “Pomni Shutnyk-!”

“Pomni Krolik, father. Please get it right. It was your idea. And if you please, shut up a moment. I’m explaining to you why I don’t want to work for this man. You will let me speak.”

Pomni turned from her stunned father and looked back at Drexl Krolik.

“Mr. Krolik. I can’t speak on your skills as a businessman, because from what I can tell, you are perfectly successful. However, as a father and authority figure, you disgust me on a visceral level. What do you gain from putting your hands on your own sons?”

Drexl’s eyes ballooned to double their size. “Are you accusing me of harming my own brood?” he whispered.

“Ha. Please don’t playact being offended. I know you harm your own “brood.” In fact, I saw you slap Osvaldo and Boone in the face the evening I had dinner at your manor.”

Jax winced. Other guests had turned to look in confusion. The Gentleman in Red, unnoticed, finished cutting himself a piece of cake and watched from the end of the table.

“That’s true, isn’t it Boone?” Pomni said. “Your father is rather wicked at the best of times, is he not?”

Pomni took a look at Boone, who shrank and stammered. Everyone had turned to look by now. Ragatha clutched her necklace of beads and whispered prayers to herself.

“Pomni, you’ve said quite enough-” her father began.

“Father, do you love me?” interrupted Pomni.

“Do I-?”

“If you love me, you will not give me over to Mr. Krolik. He is a fiend.” Pomni gestured to Drexl, who stood like a bull. “I will suffer under his leadership, make no mistake.”

Jax got to his feet. “I’m afraid I must agree, Mr. Shutnyk. My father would surely bring harm to your daughter should he be put in a position of authority over her. As her husband, I cannot allow this.”

“This is obscene!” Drexl barked. “I am appalled at your lack of decorum, the both of you! I magnanimously offer you, my daughter-in-law, a position at my company despite your gender and this is my thanks?!”

“Yes,” Jax replied.

“Allow me to elaborate, ladies and gentlemen!” Pomni climbed onto her chair so she could be seen and heard more clearly. Perched up there, she looked like some form of odd white Phoenix.

“Be careful, dear..!” Kinger exclaimed.

“That incredible performance that you heard this morning? Mr. Krolik found the idea of his son composing and performing a song for our wedding so abhorrent that he struck him in the face! I witnessed it, roughly around 9:30 PM on the seventh of this month. The performer, Osvaldo, my brother-in-law, could not join us for the reception, because he worried for his safety and had to flee the premises. Fearful of his own father’s wrath!”

Pomni glared at Drexl, her eyes glinting with righteous anger. “From what I’ve been told, your four sons and daughter in law live in terror of you. You’re impossible to please yet entirely too easy to displease! And when you’re displeased-”

“Pomni-” Mirella began.

“Mother, hush.” Pomni snapped. “And when you’re displeased, you hurt people. So if I were to displease you as your underling, what would you do? Hm? Hit me? You’d knock me flying. Perhaps even concuss me! But you wouldn’t be caught, no, a man like you is talented at not leaving marks, correct?”

“It’s true,” Boone said.

Drexl whipped his head around to look at his older son. Pomni and Jax looked at him as well.

“It’s true. My father is a tyrant,” Boone said, taking several steps away from Drexl and avoiding his searing gaze. “In fact, not long ago, he did this.”

Boone opened his mouth, placing a thumb and finger over one of his front teeth and neatly plucking it from the socket. The guests gasped.

Ragatha hastened her prayers. The crow-woman stood and left the reception, clutching some silverware in her wings. The Gentleman in Red had a bite of cake.

“I did no such thing!” Drexl thundered.

“But you did, father! You’re always trying not to leave marks, but this time you boxed me a might too smartly, didn’t you?” Boone shot back.

“Cease these lies at once!” Drexl roared.

“Or else you’ll do what?” Boone shouted back. “Knock a few more teeth loose? Oh, I’m so very scared!”

The patriarch of the deer family, possibly even taller than Drexl with fur so brown it was nearly black, rose to his feet. His cinnabar eyes burned with severity.

“What kind of a man puts his paws on his children, Krolik?” he demanded. His voice was a heavily accented growl.

“Lawrence, this is all nonsense!” Drexl spluttered.

“No man at all,” Kinger said, slowly shaking his head.

“I’m afraid the bridegroom speaks the truth,” Altonicus said, standing from his table. “I was often spared from my father’s wrath on account of being the oldest son, a guilt I struggle with to this day… But even I have been denied meals and been a recipient of floggings. I became a doctor because it was my passion, and it happened to be profitable, so my father allowed it. Osvaldo wishes to be a vocalist, and is undeniably skilled, as you all have seen, but father sees such a career as and “womanly.” So he refuses to allow Osvaldo the chance to pursue his dream.”

Kali got to her feet. “It isn’t limited to his offspring, either. I live in fear of Drexl as well. Alton and I have avoided bringing a child into this world because I would worry for their safety… And I…”

Kali covered her mouth and sniffled, Altonicus holding her other paw.

“Kali, may I?” Jax said.

“You’ve all said quite enough!” Drexl growled.

“Slanderous little harlot… I would never-”

“I have not had the flu.” Jax interjected.

“Pardon me?!” his father barked.

“I have not had the flu. Rather, I have been ill, but not from any rogue paramecium.” Jax turned to his sister in law and repeated himself. “Kali, may I?”

Kali wiped her eyes and nodded. “I’ve bore this anxiety long enough. Tell your story.”

Jax smiled gently and nodded.

“This is all hearsay, hearsay and lies!” Drexl thundered.

“No, Mr. Krolik. I would like to hear from my son-in-law.” Vladimir said coolly.

“Thank you, Mr. Shutnyk.” Jax said. “When I was 17, Boone and I got into an altercation. I fell from a bridge, and broke my arm and several ribs…”

Boone looked down at his shoes, still maintaining a careful distance from his father.

“Kali tried to ease my pain by giving me a bit of laudanum. She only knew that laudanum was a powerful sedative, not a narcotic, and wanted to grant me some respite from the pain, because she is a good sister…”

Kali broke into sobs, sinking into her chair. Alton wrapped an arm around her. Jax had begun pacing around the reception.

“And thus, when I began craving more laudanum and the pain returned worse than ever, Kali was forced to hide her mistake and bring me more. Now, why was this the best choice, you may ask? My brother is a doctor, surely he would have a way to remedy the situation… It was because I was still living with my father.”

Drexl simply stared, livid.

“If he discovered Kali made this mistake, no matter how well-intentioned and repairable, he would surely fly into a rage. He certainly would have attacked her, or Alton… Perhaps even me for acting an inebriate. And so she gave me more opium to ease the pain and avoid arousing his suspicions until I had healed, yet had a hopeless craving for poppy. I struggled with it for five years…

“That is why I’ve been ill. I apologize for lying to you all. My wife encouraged Kali and Alton to aid in getting me off the awful tincture now that I’ve been away from my father’s prying eyes. I have been in the midst of battling withdrawals. It is incredibly unpleasant, but I am on the mend.”

Jax, now at the other end of the hall, turned to address the guests. They were utterly transfixed.

“Now you all see the depth of the terror my father inspires. No mistakes are permitted around him, lest you face his wrath, be you offspring or in-law. Pomni and I apologize for dampening the mood of the wedding, but we wanted everyone to know my father’s true character.”

The door opened, and Osvaldo entered. He held a file under his arm, gasping and holding it to his chest upon seeing his father standing in the middle of the mostly silent room.

“Osvaldo, welcome in. Would you like to add to the litany of accusations against your father?” Pomni asked with poison politeness.

“Don’t be frightened, Aldo,” Jax said, standing at his older brother’s side and accepting the file that he girded himself with. “You can say what you like.”

The gray rabbit shook his head frantically. “I shouldn’t…” he muttered.

“Do not contribute to this slander, Osvaldo.” Drexl warned.

“Sir, we would like to hear from your son,” the son of the deer family said. He looked at the gray rabbit with an expression that might be read as protective. Osvaldo blushed and swallowed, but shook his head again.

“Osvaldo. We’ll entertain this piffle no longer. We are returning home.” Drexl said.

Sister Ragatha approached Osvaldo. Although he was an inch or so taller than she, she bent slightly at the waist to speak to him.

“Osvaldo… My child, there is nothing to fret about.” she said, using her softest and voice and wearing her warmest smile. “I think you’ve been exceptionally brave today already. However, I need to know the truth because it concerns a dear friend of mine. Would Pomni be in danger working for your father?”

Osvaldo chewed his lip, squinting his eyes shut.

“Ozzy,” Boone said. “Go ahead. It will be alright.”

After an agonizing number of seconds, he nodded.

“Mutinous little CUR!!!”

Drexl drove his fist into Pomni’s table, knocking it onto one leg and catapulting champagne flutes and coffee cups across the hall, which shattered into dust or clinked shrilly across the floor.

Mirella yowled and fell out of her chair, Vladimir diving to her aid. Zooble was struck on the armpit by the tabletop and knocked to the ground. Pomni tumbled from her chair as well, shielding her face with her arm with a loud exclamation. Kinger slid over and caught her before she hit the ground, although she took him to his knees with the impact of landing. Jax made a dash for Pomni from across the hall, losing a shoe mid-stride. The table wobbled feebly on its solitary leg before falling onto its side, the tablecloth fluttering to the ground and forks and spoons and butter knives sliding free from their undone rolls.

“Mrs. Krolik, are you quite alright?!” Kinger asked, holding the small woman tenderly as Jax skidded to his side, kneeling to assure that she was unharmed.

“I-I-I am fine, I… Osvaldo?!” Pomni sat up at attention, looking across the hall.

Drexl moved like a charging steam engine towards Osvaldo, who whimpered and crouched to his knees, covering his head with his arms. Guests all around the room gasped and got to their feet, some shouting in protest. Ragatha stood before Drexl, clutching her necklace in a fist.

“Sir, I would ad-”

A huge palm lashed across her face, the Gray Sister yelping and falling to the floor.

“DARLING!” Gangle shrieked, kneeling at her side.

Drexl seized Osvaldo by the throat and pulled him up with alarming force.

“Father, no, please!” Boone cried.

Drexl ignored this and began to squeeze. Altonicus vaulted over his table and sprinted towards his younger brother, only to skid to a halt.

There was a sharp scrape of metal across metal as Drexl felt something cold press to the back of his neck. He turned and ceased all movement.

“You-!” Pomni could be heard saying.

The Gentleman in Red had crossed the room. Nobody had seen him walk, oddly. He was by the wedding cake, and then he was not. He’d withdrawn a rapier, as thin as a fencer’s foil, hidden in his cane, and pressed it to the back of Drexl’s head, directly on his brainstem.

“Sir,” The Gentleman said, as calmly as a constable might speak to one who had just tossed their sandwich paper onto the sidewalk. “Please allow your son down.”

Drexl Krolik snarled like an enraged wolverine, but did not move.

“Sir, again,” The Gentleman said. “I must ask you, allow your son down. I need only push a centimeter or two and you will cease to be. I do not wish to do this, and I am certain you do not either. Go on.”

Drexl’s pupils dilated from the slits that they had shrunken too. The Gentleman in Red looked at him sternly. Osvaldo fell from his father’s paws and scrambled backwards on his rear end. He crouched behind a table and was just about to curl up and weep when a hoof touched him on the shoulder.

“Sir, are you quite alright?” a deep voice asked.

The son of the deer family knelt at his side, honey-brown eyes shimmering with concern. Osvaldo did not reply with words, bursting into tears and covering his face with his paws. The deer rubbed his back and spoke softly.

“My name is Dawson. I loved your performance…”

The hall was silent apart from whispers and sobs. Drexl remained where he was, the rapier pressing against the back of his head. Vladimir rose to his feet.

“Mr. Krolik. In light of this new development, I will not be signing my daughter onto your firm. I will also be reconsidering my family’s donation to yours. You are no longer welcome at this reception. Good day.”

Drexl looked at Pomni, who had gotten to her feet. The look in his eyes could have poisoned an alpine stream. Pomni felt a lurch of fear in her belly that he might cross the room, grab her head with a single paw and tear it from her shoulders. The Gentleman in Red hopefully had quick reflexes…

Drexl turned to Zuzanna, thrusting a finger to the door. “Wyjeżdżamy.”

Zuzanna remained in her seat. Her normally sweet countenance was icy.

“Zuzanna! Właśnie teraz wychodzimy!”

“Obawiam się, że to trudne,” she replied.

A few of Jax’s cousins gave nervous input in Ediacaran. Zooble got to their feet, groaning with pain. Nothing was broken, but they were going to bruise terribly.

Drexl’s mouth twitched. He looked to Boone.

“Boone. Come along,” he ordered.

Boone slid his tooth back into its socket and looked his father in the face.

“Mother would hate who you’ve become. Go fuck yourself,” he replied.

There was a scattering of gasps from the guests. One indigo rabbitwoman flipped open her fan and rapidly waved it on her neck. Ragatha made a sound of disbelief as Gangle helped her into her chair.

Drexl balled his fists. He stared a moment longer before whirling about, stomping to the exit door and throwing it open hard enough so that it slammed against the outside wall with teeth-chattering force. The Gentleman in Red sheathed his rapier and rested both hands on his cane, observing the hullabaloo. He nodded to Vladimir.

“Delicious cake, Mr. Shutnyk,” he said.

Pomni put ice from the champagne bucket in one of the napkins, a blue one, and gave it to Zooble to help with their injury, doing the same for Ragatha, this time in a red one. She then strode over to Jax, who watched Drexl Krolik retreat into the distance before he closed the door.

“Are you alright?” she asked, holding his paw.

“I am alright. Are you? I’m sorry I didn’t catch you…” he said.

“Think nothing of it. You were helping your brother. I would like to go home. May I see those documents?”

Jax handed her the folder. She brought it to her parents, who were still gathering themselves off the floor. Jax went to

“Pomni, we had no idea that-” her mother began.

“Yes, I’m sure you didn’t. Do not worry about that now. Please review these documents, if you don’t mind.”

Vladimir opened the folder. Inside were about a half dozen penned documents. The handwriting was of such a neat and blocky quality that it could only be Pomni’s.

“And these are?” Vladimir asked.

“A few bits and bobs. Notice of intent to vacate, acceptance papers from the New Hirnantian Embassy in Ediacara, transfer of ownership for a piece of property… and a few letters of intent to pursue legal action should Jax and I not be given our dowry.”

Vladimir put on his spectacles and skimmed through the papers, then looked up, perplexed.

“You’re… giving the manor we’re gifting you away?” he asked.

“We can hardly take it with us to Ediacara, can we? Besides, Osvaldo would benefit from it more. He needs a place to live, after all. So he can live there along with whoever he chooses.” Pomni said.

“You’re moving to another country? But Pomni, why? Why would you do this..?” Mirella pleaded.

“Please don’t begin the crocodile tears, mother.” Pomni sighed. “Yes, we’re moving to Ediacara. Drexl Krolik’s offer may have been laughable, but I was quite intrigued by his mention that women can work there. There are other issues, assuredly, but at least I won’t be doomed to a life of domestic servitude as I would here.”

“But… Pomni, what about-” Vladimir began.

“I’ve told you before, father. Your firm interests me no longer. Although Jax and I love each other, I have not forgotten how betrayed I felt three weeks ago, as well as both of your complete and utter indifference towards my distress. That hurt almost as much as you going behind my back. It not only broke my heart, it showed me that I exist as a commodity to you, not as your daughter. If I hadn’t learned of Drexl’s vicious personality, I would be at his mercy and it would have been entirely your doing.”

Mirella burst into tears, earning a roll of the eyes from Pomni.

“Mother, really. That is not needed. Now, if you two are truly apologetic, you will give me my dowry and let me go. Perhaps then I will let you back into my life. If you attempt to skimp on my inheritance, then you will never see me again apart from in court. That’s all. I am going home to pack. Our boat leaves in a few days. I’ll see you later.”

Pomni turned and walked away. Vladimir watched his daughter go. She found her husband, pecked him surreptitiously on the cheek with a dry smile, and spoke a bit with her oldest brother-in-law and sister-in-law. He felt like screaming at her, demanding her return. But he did not say a word, simply hugging his weeping wife.

Secretly, he was impressed.

[synthient]

Also fascinating how much twelveclara is just johnlock if no one read it as a joke

[angelfacemjj]

Ykw? I'm gonna say it:

90% of fandomers are smut addicts who can't “respect” any identity outside of cis gay male for pure fetishism.

[imfinereallyy]

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

Steve sighs, and he looks at Eddie in his doorway. So much has changed in five years. But Eddie seems the same. Just his hair is a bit longer, he’s got more tattoos, and he’s got scruff on his face that Steve knows when they saw each other last in 87’ would have driven him nuts.

Steve has always liked the idea of Eddie with a beard. It doesn’t matter now, though. “I think you should leave.”

“Steve, I—I just need a chance to explain.” Eddie moves side to side on his feet.

“Explain?” Steve scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest. “You had the chance to explain five years ago before you left. You had the chance to explain the weeks after with no phone calls to me to any of the kids. You had the chance to explain the year after when you talked to everyone but me, and I thought you just needed time. You had the chance a year ago before you cut everyone else off again.”

Eddie hangs his head in shame. “Stevie, please. I know I don’t deserve it. But I just want to talk.”

Steve’s resistance wavers slightly. He moves out of the doorway to let Eddie in. Eddie rushes inside, knowing Steve will change his mind at any moment. Steve shuts the door behind them. “I’m only letting you in because if Robin finds you in our doorway, she will kick your ass. And as much as you hurt me, I don’t actually want to see you in physical pain.”

Eddie smiles a bit, “Still the dynamic duo? You and Robbie? What’s stopping her from beating me up inside?”

“Our cat Sylvia might see. And she’s trying to shield her from as much violence as possible. Says one Sylvia has seen enough.”

“Oh please tell me she is out by now, because that is a giant gay flashing sign.” Eddie chuckles.

Steve can’t help but laugh a little, “Yes, she is. It would be hard if she weren’t, considering she’s dating Nancy. And Nancy is a lot of things, but subtle isn’t one of them. She shows her off any chance she gets.”

“Wow, Robs bagged Wheeler? Never saw that coming.” Eddie lets out a low whistle. “Must have been a blow to the ego for ya, Stevie. Your ex and your best friend.” He mock clutches his heart.

Steve lets out a big laugh this time, “Nah. I encouraged it. They’re my favorite people; they deserve to be happy.”

Eddie softens, “Yea, being a favorite person of Steve Harrington is a very special thing.”

Steve feels ice water in his veins, “What are you doing here Eddie?”

Eddie sighs, “What do you want to hear? Why I needed to come, or why I wanted to? Cause the truth is I needed to come to apologize to you. Give you the explanation you deserve. What I wanted, though, what I wanted is to tell you that I love—“

“Don’t.” Steve chokes.

“Right apologies first.”

“First? First?! Eddie. I don’t know what you could say to me right now that would make anything make sense. We had something good. It took us so long to get to that point. And it was great because we learned about each other and knew each other inside out. Our friendship blossomed into something more, and we were just getting started, and you left. I had thought I was done with love before I met you. But then you came along and made me feel seen and cared for, and then you got weird and distant so quickly, and you fucking left. And then I knew for sure I was done with love. Don’t think it was meant for me. Sure, that’s not on you, but you don’t get to—you don’t get to open old wounds because you feel the sudden desire to come around again.” Steve swallows tears.

Eddie’s face goes through hundreds of emotions. Anger. Shock. Grief. He doesn’t say anything for a minute. They stew in Steve’s words instead. Then finally, Eddie settles on. “I’m an addict.”

Steve, who has thought about a million ways this could go, has never thought of this. “What?” All the tension releases from his body. He just stares hopelessly at Eddie.

“I’m an addict. I'm sober now, I just reached a year, but yeah. I'm an addict. Never thought I would be. But after everything with Vecna and the painkillers they put me on…it got hard. Denied it for a while. Said to myself a little of everything here and there to forget wouldn’t hurt anyone. But then we were becoming something alongside, me spiraling deeper into addiction. And I—fuck this was easier to practice at the meetings.” Eddie runs his hands through his hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong. But I would have hurt you. More than me leaving did. And I couldn’t live with that. I could live with you hating me. It was selfish of me. I wasn’t ready to give up the drugs so I gave up you, and it’s not fair. Not fair that I did that to you, to anyone of you really, but especially you Steve. You just deserved someone who could love you all the time, love you fully. And I thought I did but I think I was using you a little to make myself feel better. That’s not to say I didn’t love you. I did, still do, always will. But we both deserved a better version than what we had.”

Steve feels tears on his cheeks, he isn’t sure what to say. “You didn’t get to make that decision for me.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Steve chokes on a sob, “Dammit Eddie. It was my birthday.”

Something breaks inside them, and suddenly they are in each other's arms, weeping together. There is this fragile broken thing between them, a love that never went away. It is horrible and beautiful and needs so much work to be wonderful once more.

But it was nice to break together again.

“I know. I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough. I’ll make sure every day for the rest of my life that I make it up to you. In any way I can.”

“I don’t know how we can get back Eds. Don’t know if we should.”

“I’ll take you any way you’ll have me. Friend. Lover. A person you only call when you need a ride to the airport. Just let me try; it’s all I ask. I promised I wouldn’t go back to you until I knew I had put the work into myself first. You don’t owe me anything. I would understand if you kicked me out right now. But I need you to know that Steve, I love you anyway you’ll have me. And I have never stopped thinking about you.”

Steve lifted his head from Eddie’s chest. “I’d like to try to get to know you again. This you. See where it goes. But Eds, no matter what, no matter the version of you, I will always care. And I will always be your friend.”

Eddie kisses Steve’s forehead, “Thank you.”

It’s there where Steve and Eddie hug on the wooden apartment floor; they hear the door unlock. “Oh no, she’s home early.”

Eddie doesn’t get to respond because, suddenly, Robin is in the doorway. “Hey, dingus! I brought home an extra latte—“

She freezes at the sight of Eddie before rebooting with a dark look, “Steve, is your nail bat still under your bed?”

——

Wanted to try the whole break up thing, I have a lot of different break up/makeup ideas in my head. maybe pt. 2???? Kinda feels good to stop here. But if you think so I have more ideas for this.

[vaultsixtynine]

why do people like to put their latest trauma in a yt comment while framing it as like, a positive thing that the person who published the video is "helping" them with

[sanasanakun]

My one wish for fanfic authors when writing those “good ending” or “Curly survives” AUs is to discuss Curly’s heavy reliance on painkillers (oxycodone in particular) and how he probably developed a pretty bad addiction for them. It’s something he’d have to definitely deal with after a rescue.

[kamil-a]

dont talk to me this way im literally painting right now. While scrolling on my phone. Getting paint on my phone screen while scrolling.