#fuck maybe even trip on shrooms

[rosicheeks]

💖

[snekdood]

so august 2018 is when my peak being-crazy-made art craziness happened, huh

[leoisstillalive]

I honestly think that the actual two ways rosquez could reconcile is Marc not winning another wc (so staying with less then rossi) and then after retiring them reconciling (similar to casey and rossi) because there will be a clear "winner" and rossi won’t be threatened.

Or, marc gets the 10th (and maybe even more wins then rossi, but the 10th is more important i think), so rossi is kind of forced to reconcile with him because he probably will seems like a kind of sore loser if he doesn’t

But thats just a theory, a motogp theory

i'd like to be optimistic and say that valentino could swallow his pride and reconcile with marc if he makes it to 10 championships, but i personally think it would just make it all so much worse. i don't see valentino as the sort of man to care about people calling him a sore loser, particularly when the people doing so would be people that don't like him anyway. he's created his grand family of people who agree with every word he says, respect his legend and see him solely as such, and listens little to the jeers of outsiders. an echo chamber for a throne room!

i do agree that marc never winning another championship would open up a path to reconciliation, though. because, fuck, i think it would be greatly satisfying for valentino and, unfortunately, perfect for the general, "ironic tragedy" narrative.

after all, rosquez are a relationship that rely on some sort of power dynamic. they thrive on the toxicity of having one partner infinitely more influential or loved while the other suffers the burden of having to capture and hold their favour. if marc never won again, he would be seen as creeping tail between his legs back to vale, the merciful master. there's an element of fear to it, but we know these guys love all that (especially marc): their job is literally to try and not die as fast as possible for forty minutes a day.

so yeah i think it is make or break. of course, there's the off chance valentino will do some shrooms and have a crazy, introspective trip wherein he achieves self-actualisation and allows peace back into his heart. but i doubt it.

[bitchesuntitled]

Walk in the Park

Little Dieter drabble for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub ❤️ Thank you @sweetenerobert & @jay-zzle for giving this a look over 🥰

Pairing: Dieter & GN!Reader

Warning: Cussing

Masterlist||AO3 Link

Divider by @saradika-graphics

“Fuck!”

You startle, shooting up from the bench you decided to rest at, as a man stumbles out of the bushes.

“Are you real?!” He asks panicked, scrubbing his hands along the sides of his face, twigs and leaves scattered throughout his dark messy curls, eyes hidden behind alien eye-shaped sunglasses you’ve seen at a local party store.

Great, a deranged stranger. He looks familiar but you can’t quite place him, gripping the mace on your keychain tighter. Wary of his presence.

“I just—“ he says, taking a deep breath and leaning over. Palms against his thighs as he exhales slowly, “I’m all mixed up out here. A friend of mine suggested doing shrooms and taking a walk, to get to know nature, all that bullshit. Horrible idea. Ever seen a frog up close and personal? Scary, unpredictable fuckers. Lead me astray hours ago.”

You couldn’t help but feel sympathetic for the man, having had your share of similar shrooms trips.

“Feeling okay?” You ask, deciding to take the kind route, and sitting back down. The man is dressed in soft pj pants, a threadbare shirt, crocs, and a bathrobe. Interesting choice for a trip to the park but you’ve seen worse.

“I think I’m finally coming down,” The man shrugs, “My name’s Dieter by the way,” he adds, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Dieter,” you say, grabbing his clammy hand, giving a small shake, and sharing your name.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Dieter asks, pointing at the spot next to you.

“Go right on ahead,” you nod towards the bench.

You begin making small talk, sharing bits and pieces about each other’s lives. You learn he’s an actor, which is why he looked so familiar. Award-winning actor Dieter Bravo, the trainwreck that he is. The bathrobe should have been your tip, can’t even begin to count the number of times you’d seen that featured on all the covers of gossip magazines.

“Okay, now let’s get to the hard-hitting questions,” Dieter says, clapping his hands together, the alien glasses sliding down his aquiline nose, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Negative.”

“What about soulmates?”

“Not sure yet,” you laugh, shrugging, “Never found anyone worth my time.”

“That so?” Dieter asks, eyebrows peaking above the frame of his unique sunglasses.

“What is with those ridiculous sunglasses?” you ask, unable to contain a laugh, “I cannot take you seriously. You’re supposed to be some award-winning actor, yet you’re literally wearing pajamas and costume store sunglasses shaped like alien-eyes.”

“Inspiration, my dear,” Dieter smirks, “Inspiration.”

“Inspiration?”

“Of course! It’s for my next role, I’m a scientist on the search for answers of another life form.”

“So what?” You laugh, “You take shrooms, slap on some alien glasses, take a stroll through the park, and think you’re going to find your character?”

“Next question,” Dieter says, ignoring you, “Do you believe in aliens?”

“Of course.”

“Last question,” Dieter giggles, “Wanna have sex with me?”

You sit back, biting your cheek, looking at him. The patchy scruff on his face, his nose, his hair still scattered with leaves, and the earring dangling off his earlobe.

“Take the glasses off.”

He huffs but removes them, letting you get a good look at his face without anything obstructing your view. You look at those dark orbs, pupils still a little dilated, shaking your head.

“Maybe next time” you smirk, getting up and walking away.

[dark-confession]

Thinking back on why I am the way I am, it just has to do with what I’ve been exposed to I think. My parents divorced young, I lived with my mom and eventually her new boyfriend (who was a pervert) and I lived right next door to an old pervert in his 40s. When I was 14 I sucked my first dick, it was my neighbors…and that sort of spiraled me. I went over there a few more times and gave him head each time, then one day my mom went out of town and my neighbor invited me over. I went, and he proceeded to feed me shots until I was wasted and then he raped me for hours…that’s how I lost my virginity.

In my struggle to deal with it afterwards I got it in my head that it’s 100% normal for men to rape women, and that it was somehow the ultimate compliment. That it validated my beauty and success as a woman. I started drinking more, and smoking, and other drugs. I went through a huge slut era that I never really grew out of, which included continuing to fuck my neighbor in secret.

Then, when I was 16 my mom’s boyfriend and his friend, both in their 30s, raped me. Again, my mom was out of town, and she left her man to keep an eye on me. He was a horny male, always looking at me, and he saw how I was dressing and acting…like complete rape-bait. While my mom was gone, he invited his friend over and they did a mixture of shrooms and ecstasy…and they offered me some.

The shrooms was brewed into a tea that tasted like ass, and I drank that first. Maybe an hour or so later and I started snorting lines of ecstasy with them…the burning in my nose all too intense. All I know is, I had never experienced or seen anything like it. The euphoria, the pure bliss and amazingly intense feelings and highs. I was fucked up, being prodded to dance and grind and be wild. My mom’s boyfriend implored me to put on some of the new bikinis I had gotten, told me how free and good I would feel wearing them.I ran to my room, changed into a tiny little thing, and ran back out. Next thing I knew their hands were all over me, groping, squeezing, pulling at me…at the tiny little bikini that was now barely covering. I was a short, fit little redhead, with big tits and a fat ass…how could I have expected anything less when they, too, were fucked up on these drugs.

I don’t know exactly when, but at some point, as they were both mobbing me, I noticed their shorts were off…both of them had their cocks out…both with massive erections… I got scared, overwhelmed, started telling them to stop and slow down, asking what they were doing…one of them ripped my bikini top off, then I got picked up by my moms boyfriend and literally carried over his shoulder to her room, where he threw me in the bed. They were both on me so fast. My arms and legs were being held down, my bottoms got tugged off…fingers went inside me… all so quickly. I started to yell, it did nothing, so I started to cry and beg and I could see them get more excited.

They raped me on and off for 4 or 5 hours…until the shrooms started to die down. That was the first time I got double penetrated…and I can’t even begin to count the number of times I orgasmed that night. Tripping balls, high off ecstasy. They teased me while they raped me, mocked me for how easily I came, how badly my body wanted them…

I don’t know, it wasn’t the last time I have been sexually assaulted…but the first two times definitely changed me… made me realize so much…

[star-girl69]

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: exams are crazy these next few days so expect delays in chapters 💔 but i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: murder, death, blood, knives, mentions of drugs (shrooms), kissing, mentions of sex, swearing, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Eighteen - Everything

Chapter Eighteen - Everything

—-

2021-

Shauna called you early in the morning when you had just gotten on the road, your Starbucks in your cup holder, and you had almost considered not answering it. The hunt was over, and you wanted to go home, and go back to your boring life as a Whole Foods cashier.

You wanted to go back to the normalcy you had worked so hard to make yourself accept- and this short little trip would have to be enough for the rest of your life.

Shauna had called, and she had sounded so scared, talking about her murdered lover, and at first- you really didn’t believe her. But, you turned around anyways, heading back towards the address she had sent you.

You met up with Taissa and Natalie in the parking lot, where in the elevator Taissa ended up asking for a sip of your coffee. You had shared much worse together, so what was one sip?

“Jesus Christ,” Tai spat. “Why the fuck is that so sugary?”

You put the lid of your coffee back on, shuffling around awkwardly. “I like it sweet.”

Tai shoots you a look saying she clearly doesn’t approve, and just Natalie laughs slightly, thinking about something.

The elevator dings to a stop, and Natalie walks out and bangs on the apartment door, rustic farmhouse style, and Shauna opens the door with a shush.

“Is this his apartment?” Taissa asks, and the three of you file in, looking around awkwardly. You step around the counter, expecting someone to walk around from around the kitchen, or the bathroom, still not quite believing he’s dead- but Taissa suddenly lets out a loud gasp. “Oh, my God, Shauna… you killed him?”

A man lays on the floor, blood dripping from his mouth, an open stab wound in his chest.

“You guys are, like, so fucking insane,” you mutter, not able to take your eyes away from the pooling blood.

“Who is he?” Nat asks, less shocked by this, for whatever the reason.

“I met him a few months ago. We got into a car accident and then we started… sleeping with each other.”

“For fucks sake, Shauna, this is your boyfriend?”

“You were seeing somebody around the time that all of us got blackmailed and didn’t think to mention it?” Nat asks, throwing her hands around in odd ways.

“I’m telling you now,” she sighs.

Nat gestures to the dead body. “When he’s dead!” she shouts. “When he can’t fucking mumble a word to us. What the fuck, Shauna?” She starts pacing.

“Jesus Christ, are you even sure he did it?” Tai asks.

“Well, um… he went out to get coffee for us this morning, and when he was gone,” she picks up the duffel bag with Callie’s handprints on it, “I found this in his closet.”

Natalie snatches it for her.

“He came back and he saw me with it, and, you know, he realized that I must know what he did, so, he attacked me.”

You look over at Shauna, but she doesn’t seem hurt.

“And, I, um, you know, I had no choice.”

“Where’s my money?” Natalie asks, throwing around the empty bag.

“Where’s your money, Natalie? I’m not sure. Maybe he booked a cruise with it,” she sighs.

Natalie slams the bag onto an armchair, and you roll your eyes.

“Uh, it’s not here, but the burner phone, the one with the texts from your guys, it’s…” she holds up the small black flip phone.

“How did he know anything about the symbol?” Tai sighs.

“Well, um,” Shauna starts, digging through the bag and clearing her throat, “He also had these.” She holds up a small leather bound notebook.

“Oh, Shauna,” you mutter. “You didn’t.”

“What the fuck is that?” Tai asks.

Shauna sighs heavily, looking away from everyone. “They’re my… journals… from the wilderness. I-I couldn’t get rid of them. I’ve been really careful, they’re in a safe in my closet, but… he must have broken into it sometime pretty soon after we started seeing each other.”

“Holy shit, Shauna. You let this guy in your house?”

“Can you try to be a little less judgemental? I already feel stupid enough as it is.”

“You really think this is the guy who killed Travis?” Nat asks, leaning over the body.

You want to say something, to smack her, make it get through her head that sometimes death just happens. And she, out of all people, should know that.

“I-I don’t know.”

Natalie leans forward and starts touching him, and you bite back a gag.

“Oh, my God, don’t start touching him-”

“Natalie, don’t do that!”

“Jesus Christ!” you shout. “What if he has like, fucking HIV or something, Natalie-”

Shauna shoots you a wide-eyed look.

“-or something else!”

“I can’t believe you killed him, Shauna!” she shouts after she’s done with her search. “Now we’re not gonna know anything!”

“Well, you were gonna shoot him at the warehouse,” Shauna retorts.

“Okay, which, recall, we told her not to do.” Tai says.

“I wouldn’t have fucking killed him, I would’ve just hit his knees-” Nat starts to explain.

“He was lying to me,” Shauna says. And you look over and there’s tears in her eyes. “He was going to hurt me. I thought that- that he loved me, I trusted him,” she cries.

“Shauna,” you mumble, giving her a small hug as she turns around and wipes away her tears.

“Well, I needed answers. So, fuck, Shauna!”

“So, now what?” Shauna says after a moment, and you let the hands around her fall.

“Well, we can’t just leave him here.”

“Well, we can’t exactly- Weekend at Bernie’s him out the door, either.”

“Getting rid of the body isn’t our only problem, Shauna. Your fucking DNA is all over this place. Your fucking texts are in his cloud. God, the police are not gonna have to dig deep to find you.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Shauna says after Tai’s outburst. “You’re a lawyer. What-what do we do?”

“I practiced land use, not murder clean-up.”

Natalie finishes walking around the apartment, whatever she was looking for still not found.

“Hey. You’re all silent over there, that’s unusual. You got any ideas?”

Natalie sighs like she doesn’t want to say it.

“Yeah. One.” She rolls her eyes.

—-

1996-

You wake up on the cold ground, feeling like you had just committed a murder. There’s something sticky running down your chest and throat, and you’re covered in dirt, and you can tell your makeup is smeared.

Natalie groans.

You don’t remember how you got here last night, besides for faintly stumbling through the woods, Natalie dropping the knife they had almost killed Travis with, practically boiling in anger. You remember before that more clearly, the trees bending, looking for her, finding her and then Jackie.

Natalie sits up next to you and stares at you with wide eyes, your lipstick smeared all over her face and neck, and when you feel your tangled hair and look at your ripped dress, it’s not hard to figure out what happened.

“My neck hurts,” is the first thing you say.

She laughs. “Well, sleeping on the ground will do that.”

She’s still angry, you can tell, but all of last night is so hazy.

“What-what happened?” you mumble, trying to fix your dress, dusting the dirt off of you.

“Misty poisoned us,” she mumbles, bringing her knees up to her chest as she stares off into the distance. You stop.

“What? I mean, I know now that I was hallucinating, but, I-”

“Yep. Shrooms,” she whispers.

You reach forward and place your hand over hers.

“Natalie… what happened last night?”

She stares at you for a long moment. “I don’t know.”

—-

The two of you walk through the vaguely familiar woods, and after a moment, her hand slips back into yours, and you start to head towards the cabin.

Natalie squeezes your hand. “What did she mean, last night? Do you know?”

“Know what?” you frown, looking up at the trees, trying to remember what happened last night- but parts of it are covered in a haze.

“Lottie? How we’ll all see it like you soon?”

When you look at her, she looks scared.

“Lottie was high off her ass last night. Don’t- don’t listen to her, Nat.”

She pulls you to a stop.

“What do you remember from last night?”

“I hallucinated trees moving. I… I remember wanting to find you. I-I wanted to apologize, Natalie.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment. “You don’t have to.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you whisper. “It was stupid, and I-I don’t know what I was thinking. I care about you, Nat, and not your past.”

She smiles and looks at the ground before looking back up at you, her crown of sticks hanging out of her hair. She looks back up at you, and her eyes soften, and she places a tentative hand on your cheek.

“I would have nothing if I lost you,” she whispers. “You… you’re my best friend, Y/N. You’re everything.”

What happens if violence and peace aren’t different? What if they’re one in the same? What if it’s the sun and the moon, constantly chasing each other through the sky, never quite meeting. What happens if peace and violence are connected in a way that is beyond your understanding?

“We’ll be better this time,” she says, staring at your lips. You hum, staring at hers.

You lean forward and kiss her.

This is what happens.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki @happysparklingshadows @zhivaxo @maraudeerrs @karsonromanoff

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

[monocodoll]

hey i really love your vile ventures mod! i have a lot of suggestions for it. obviously you don't have to implement them because the mod's amazing as it is and you already have a lot planned for it, but i feel like they would add a lot to the gameplay.

for acid and shrooms it would be cool if there could be more moodlets describing how the trip is going. for example feeling one with nature, impending doom, ego death, thought loops, and more. it would also be cool if there were popups like from the deep conversations mod, where if a bad trip is starting you can try to stay calm which has a chance of stopping the bad trip or you can freak out which makes it worse (if you want your sim to suffer).

in general i have a lot of ideas for extra moodlets and side effects - constipation from painkillers/opioids/ketamine, derealization from weed/psychedelics, weight gain from lean, weight loss from cocaine, itchiness from painkillers/opioids, bruxism/grinding teeth from molly/adderall/meth, fucked up teeth and skin from meth, sexual dysfunction/negative moodlets after woohoo, comedowns/afterglows, nic sick, accidentally injecting an artery instead of a vein, and more

ketamine or over the counter deliriants or dissociatives would be really cool too. your sim could buy ket from a dealer or go to the grocery store for dxm/robo or benadryl. benadryl would probably be a guaranteed bad trip and your sim will get the disgusting surroundings moodlet from seeing bugs and spiders everywhere.

tripsitting other sims and influence their trip, if they're having a bad trip you can try to calm them down or you can even mess them up. you can also have someone accompany your sim while they're tripping too, and depending on relationship or traits that could either be good or bad.

psychosis would be fun (not), if your sim has a bad trip from psychedelics there could be a chance of getting a psychosis moodlet. they'd have to visit the doctor and be prescribed antipsychotics. antipsychs can't really be abused so instead of having them in your inventory there should just be a moodlet for "on antipsychotics", and after a while the psychosis moodlet will disappear. (or maybe you can go to a mental hospital rabbithole)

going cold turkey on benzos can kill you in real life. maybe having a xanax addiction moodlet can have a chance of giving your sim a seizure unless you taper it.

it would be nice if you could launder money without owning a business, maybe using cryptocurrency (possible new feature?), gambling/casinos, or buying from a business with dirty money and getting refunded with real money (this can increase heat level if you do it too much)

before opioid overdose fatal or non-fatal your sim will get a nodding off moodlet which drains their energy. during this time they can administer narcan/naloxone to reverse the overdose.

"sell drugs" interaction on the phone, where your sim can make a post telling others they're selling. for the next few hours you may get 1-5 calls from acquaintances/friends asking to buy, or they could ask if you could deliver it to another lot. using this interaction increases heat, but you can create a separate account which decreases heat gain.

if you're at a certain level of the drug dealing skill you will also get random phone calls from other sims asking to buy pickup/delivery without using the "sell drugs" interaction on the phone.

if another sim calls you first asking to buy drugs, you can seal the deal immediately. however you can't choose what to sell them, they will order and you have to decide whether or not their order is worth the hassle.

a dark web feature would be really cool. at a certain level of drug dealing you can access the dark web and buy all drugs, with the same stock everyday. each transaction will increase heat but heat gain will decrease if you buy a VPN and/or use cryptocurrency to anonymize the transaction. however there is a chance you might get scammed - you may not recieve your purchase or they might even steal your money.

i see you're planning on adding strip clubs in the future, it would also be fun if you also added prostitution. i'm pretty sure pimping and purchasing sex is illegal in real life but being a ho is perfectly fine - so in game being the pimp or purchasing sex will increase heat but being a ho has no consequences (legally at least... selling your body is very traumatizing, constant sex, becoming a sex object, shitty pimps)

more ways to persuade dealers and buyers. for example trading drugs for guns/vice versa, woohoo for drugs or guns, robbery, or blackmail.

robbery only works if you have a gun. if you succeed you will get lots of drugs from a dealer for free or lots of money without giving up product from buyers. obviously this isn't a flawless method. you might have a gun pulled out on you and you might be forced to give up your drugs and/or money, and heat will increase significantly. your relationship with the dealer/buyer will be damaged and you will be unable to buy from them or sell to them for a while.

Heyy Anon! Hope you are doing well. Sorry for the late response. I wanted to take time to respond to this as detailed as possible. Here are things I may implement into future updates from your list.

Dark Web

As I add more criminal methods to Vile Ventures I will establish a Dark Web mechanic where you can utilize your dirty money to purchase items. Lock picks, Social Security #'s, Fake ID's, etc

Drug Client Calls

It will most likely be a misc feature in a future update. But I will add a mechanic for cliens that have bought from you to give you a call to try to set up a deal with you. With them choosing the order.

Advertising Drug Dealing

Most likely will be a misc feature in a future update. But, I would eventually like to add an a mechanice where you can advertise your drug dealing online and then potentially get traffic that way.

Drug Robberies

Probably won't be implemented anytime soon. Maybe when I get to revamp the entire Arms Dealing part of the mod. But, I'll probably make a mechanic where you can steal from drug dealers. However, the consequence is that word will get around and you won't be able to buy from dealers permanently. Unless you use wiser methods. Like using Counterfiet Money to make your purchase. That way your reputation stays intact. Meanwhile if you pull out a gun several times to do a robbery, then eventually word will get around and no one will ever deal with you again.

Trading With Drug Dealers

Most likely will be implemented when I add more criminal elements to Vile Ventures. Although there is also Arms Dealing. And you could technically exchange guns for drugs. That mod I don't consider it complete. It was honestly a test run to see if I could even implement something like Basemental Drugs. I loved using the Arms Dealing mod as a test run, because there was no pressure of animations. Which was something I could not properly produce back then. But, I learned a lot ever since and I consider it absolute in comparison to Vile Ventures. I would eventually love to completely revamp the Arms Dealing and implement it into Vile Ventures. I may even add proper Shooting Animations for the guns.

[undeadentropy]

Sorry mutuals, about being on my bullshit the last few days. I'm dealing with long term consequences of having liberated myself from all limitations and fears after entering my soul's Konami Code via liberal amounts of drugs. I found my life's safe word and I'm free now even sober. It's a good thing I promise. I won't be annoying about it forever. Enlightenment is just overwhelming when it piggybacks on freeing my entire self. I guess I don't have long term memory problems, just a lot of me in here. I just uh. I gotta figure out how to pilot this entire thing on purpose. I broke the walls between us forever from what i did. We became mycelium and grew into each other at last.

So if anyone is multiple like me, be very fucking careful with ego dissolution via a heroic dose of shrooms combined with maybe two nugs of weed. It hurts so fucking bad like you are literally being forged in fire and all the shit every one of you has endured is placed upon you as you melt away into a hivemind forever. Horrifically painful process that makes you more powerful than you could possibly imagine.

All of you is still there. It's not ego deaths. The death is temporary and ends with the trip itself. But there's a reason your soul shattered into fragments of lives lived in other worlds, and you gotta face the truth of what happened to you and own it. (you haven't gone to those universes yet, but time isnt linear outside this universe. Im not positive but i suspect this is the first stop for all of us, even if we remember what has yet to come. But dont quote me on that. The question itself may be flawed because im trying to understand time as a human in this universe, and we cant see time to begin with. What we think is time is just the march of entropy that will one day swallow this universe. It isnt time in a way that matters.). Then there's the whole becoming one with the universe and your place in it thing (like i just did [oh god too many tangents STOP lmao]). It's a lot at once is what Im saying. The trip took fucking 18 sleepless hours and its not long enough for everything that happened and all I learned at once. But I'm fine 😁

[misty-caligula]

A short post about DRUGS

The Doomcoming as a reference to It Chooses is such a specific choice, I think, because it was never resolved. I feel like some folk think it was like a non-sequitor, a sign of things to come but otherwise disconnected from the events that followed. But here’s a thought I’ve been having:

Here’s how a weird trip could have occurred if they were on, like, a camping trip. They go out, have some drugs, it goes places they didn’t expect, they go a bit wild, they come down, they wake up the next morning, feeling embarrassed, maybe a bit of pain and anger, maybe apologise to each other, pack up and go home. The whole thing is a ... blip on the radar of their lives, and tomorrow they’re back in Walmart, gossiping about celebrities.

But that’s not the situation here. There is no solid ground here, there’s nowhere to return to, and the Doomcoming is a fundamentally destabilizing episode.

When they hit the shrooms they have this transcendental experience. The core cult lay around and connected to each other, and with The Wilderness. Travis, Jackie, Misty, Ben and Natalie are all absent, and Javi doesn’t get into it, but the rest of them spend a lot of time in this ... space. Lottie has her premonition that Something Is Coming and that they’ll be fed soon, and then ... well you saw it.

But the day AFTER, when they wake up sober, they do not forget the experience. Mushrooms do not wipe your memory, you don’t get blacked out like alcohol. If you tried you could recall with a lot of specificity what happened, and what you were thinking. And the connections that people make while tripping are often ... lasting. People wake up the next day and change their entire fucking lives around, it happens.

So they wake up, and they’re a bit embarrassed, a bit overwhelmed, but NOBODY apologises. Nobody says “Man that was ridiculous and dumb.” There’s a moment, a tiny sliver of a moment, when Ben tells them what’s up, and they turn on Misty that they might have all decided that it was just a huge silly waste of time but then... the bear turns up.

That timing, that specific series of events, just completely vindicates not only Lottie as divine, but also the entire night of the Doomcoming as being... legitimate. Like, the part of them that’s still attached to the outside world (the part that’s getting weaker every day) knows what drugs are, knows how they work... and they know, in theory, to distrust it. But simultaneously... We’re also primed to look at drugs as a spiritual tool. For many thousands of years people have been using drugs to get attached to the supernatural. And in the Doomcoming they felt the connection. They felt what Lottie feels. And then, completely stone cold sober, they saw the proof.

So, when It Chooses comes around, they don’t NEED the drugs. They KNOW what to do, they’ve had the dress rehearsal. It’s harder sober, but the memory of the connection is there, is personal, and once the adrenaline hits, it’s familiar, and it’s Real.

It makes me think of the bacchanal. The way that their hunger, their grief, the weird spiritual randomness of the moment, culminated in an event they’d never have planned, and the way that they approached it as a manic banquet. Like they barely realised what they were even doing once they broke the taboo. It makes me think how vast the gulf is between that and what happened to Pit Girl, how calm they are, how Aware they are. The bacchanal got them through it the first time, as the drugs got them through the Doomcoming. In S2E9 I’m expecting... something much colder, much more ... deliberate. Aware.

[ofwrxth]

+ SASHA / THE FREY

"Sash, this stall is cursed. I swear! There's a fucking raccoon every time I look over my shoulder." Jerry scratches his elbow and, with a wince, looks over his shoulder for a beat. Almost as quickly as he'd looked, he glances away, whispering loudly to her. "It's still there." He says, nodding in the direction of the trash panda. "Did I take something?" Jerry's hand hovers around his mouth. "I know I shouldn't have had that pie from old lady Forester. I bet she put shrooms in it. Do you think I'm tripping? Do you see it? I feel like I keep seeing it. Did I make that up?" His questions come in rapid succession as he shifts from side to side on his work station stool. Though he doesn't know why Sasha insists on bringing him with her to The Frey. It's not like he can contribute much.

Still, he doesn't mind keeping her company. At least he didn't usually. But the raccoon! If he understood the complexities of what he did and didn't see, Jerry would know that his sister's familiar was always keeping a keen eye on him. And sometimes he even remembered it was her familiar. Other times, like today, he'd swear left, right and center, that it was an omen. Or a sign he'd been cursed. Though, perhaps it's not even Bandit whose gaze he's keenly aware of, but rather Echo. Non corporeal and unseen by her witch whose eyes were blind to his own magic when Jerry is present. Echo shifts, nudging Bandit away so Jerry will relax, following suit as they both jump off the table they were perched on. "Or maybe," Jerry's been rambling about the old stall owner for a minute now, "she's hexed them. Otherwise why would I keep seeing the trash –" he looks over again, mouth opening and closing at the sight of...nothing. "Panda...." @gloriouswhispers

[slit-you-open]

Thinking about bringing home this cocksucker i know, you know, one of those little fucking teases who doesn't seem to realize anyone's looking when they walk around with their thighs and stomach on display. I want them bad, I do. They say they're not looking for anything right now. Long term relationship. I'm about ready to snap, I want their ass so bad.

So fuck it. I'm thinking about bringing them back to my place. Tell him I want them in the living room, that we're going to hang out and have a nice platonic night in smoking weed and watching those dumb fucking cartoons he likes. I won't actually partake, but I doubt he'll notice. Justify it if he asks with work in the morning, but he probably won't even ask. Then... hell, I'll make him dinner, I know he likes that. Slip a little something fun in there. Not a serious tranq, I'm not pathetic. I want him to struggle. Just a little something to make it harder to remember in the morning. Shrooms, maybe, or a little ket.

I'll get him in my room somehow, it won't be hard. Tell him I've got a gift, or something to show him. They're stupid and trusting. It'll work, it'll be easy. They'll eat out the palm of my fucking hand if I tell them to. Just won't offer up that tight little cunt of his. The one fucking thing to call off-limits...

It'd be a classic to bend him over the desk, but really, a bed this big with a frame this solid is begging to be used. I'll pin his chest to it after we walk through the door. Trip him, maybe, the drugs will make him clumsy. He'll freeze first, ask what I'm doing; that's good because he's always wearing these tight denim jeans and I know it'd be a fucking hell of a time trying to unbutton them if he was thrashing. I could cut them off him if I need, but I don't want to have to need.

He's not gonna be that stupid even when I got him drugged up, though, I'm not gonna plan for him to be. He'll put it together when he feels me ripping his pants and his boxers away from his cunt. He'll start to struggle here, but not too hard. He's my friend. He won't want to hurt me, not at first. That works for me. He'll probably try to push his chest up, or try to push at my hands. Maybe both. Not coordinated. I keep ropes attached to the bedframe for other things - laundry lines and keeping stuff in place - but that's an excuse; the real reason is that it's easier to tie an errant limb up when you've already got everything attached. I don't want to really hurt him but i want to secure him first; i can always retie him later. His right arm is always going to be closest to the side of the bedframe. It'll be no hard task to catch it and tie it down to the metal, pull the line taut and trap his dominant hand to the side of the bedframe.

He's high, so he'll start begging here, getting scared. The tears will start to run, the gasping. "What are you doing, I don't like it, stop, what's happening?" Like music to my goddamn ears. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. And he's not stupid, just high. He knows some of what I like. It won't take long before he's really fighting, pulling hard and twisting and trying to bite me where I'm holding his face into the mattress. If I'm not careful, if he gets his teeth in my arm he's going to do some real damage, god knows he bites like a dog.

At this point fucking... planning around it is stupid, I know what I want and I know I'll be out of my mind with the wanting. i'd say I had more plans here, I'd say I'd fix the tie or I'd pull off his binder. I'm putting my fingers up his cunt, we all know that. He's going to be squirming and pulling, his stupid skinny jeans around his knees stopping him from doing almost anything with his legs, and I'm going to watch his ass work and the muscles strain and the way his belly fills out as he gasps for breath and I know I won't be able to stop myself. I'll swipe through his folds, flick his little t-dick, and then god knows I'll push my fingers into his hot little fucking hole and listen to the way his voice changes when I reach deep inside him.

He's probably tight as hell. He's been on testosterone longer than I've even known him. Every so often I hear him talk about this dildo and that one he can't quite make work any more. According to him he used to be a real size queen. I've been wanting to get my fist inside him since we met. I'll be seeing if it'll even work.

I think this'll scare him, just a little. He'll go still for a moment, let me fix my grip on his upper body. Easiest place to hold would be his neck, but he'll have a much harder time prying my hand off his upper spine, but honestly now that I have him where I want him I don't need him pinned. He's got nowhere to go; i'm between him and the rest of the room and his hand is tied to the bed probably tighter than it should be. I can let him up, wrap my forearm over his throat, instead. Not a choke, just a hold; something hard as fuck to get out of one-handed. Hell, he might even like having me pressed up against his back. He seems like the type.

He'll probably start trying to bite me again after a little of this, me fitting as many fingers as I can into his little off-limits pussy and panting and probably ranting deranged nonsense into his ear, and I'll have to grab his jaw if I want to keep control of that. That'll let him get a grip on my arm and try to pull me off, but that's not going to help him much. He'll probably try to kick off his pants, but there's no way that works out for him, not uncoordinated and without any real room to work. I might let his upper body go entirely just for the sake of looping my loose rope through the crease of his thigh and tying that to the bedframe too, though, just to hold him even more firmly in place. He'll probably slap at me, and god knows that'll make me laugh if it does anything. I don't think he'll be ready for me to hit back. I think he'll forget that's an option. I think it'll take him by surprise when I punch him in the ribs, and I think it'll really surprise him when i don't let him even try to get in another blow, no matter how uncoordinated, how when he starts raising his free off hand I'll hit him again, low and hard. I don't think he even knows how to land a strike on someone behind him; he might elbow me but I'd ve surprised if he did it well. And all the while I'd still be pumping my fingers in his cunt, feeling him twitching and clenching around me as I stretch his walls wider and wider.

I don't think two fingers will be hard to fit. Three maybe, but doable. My fingers are slim, all things told. The pinky I can work in no matter how tight he is, basic trick of physiology. When I get that in, I can work him over my knuckles. Maybe he'll tear. Won't put me off, I've always liked a little blood. Besides, he'll walk it off. If he's walking tonight, that is.

He's high and he's been fighting me. The more pain he's in, the less energy he'll have for any of that. I don't want him totally out of fight, but I want to maneuver him a little, move him around without getting kicked in the head for my trouble. These first few minutes are going to be the hardest, before i can really tire him out.

I'll force my whole hand into his cunt, thumb pinning his little t-dick between the side of it and the ridge of my hand, and while i'm curling and uncurling my fingers I'll push him up further onto the bed, change the angle so he's up on his toes, hips up on the mattress for me. That'll give me a good angle to get at him, really work my way into his cunt. Press the knuckles of my fingers hard into his cervix and the back of my hand against his g-spot, feel his little dick harden into the pressure even as he begs and sobs against my bed or tries again to shove me away. It'll be cute. I'll tell him, if I feel like it. I'm sure I will. It's cute that he'd get off from me violating his trust and his body like this, it really is, like he's practically a toy. Put in the right inputs, shove something into his holes and hold him down until he gets used to it, and he might even like it. I imagine this'll make him start fighting again; maybe it'll startle him bad enough if I ram my fist into him from the inside he'll stop and maybe it'll make him try harder, and there's no real reason not to find out. I'll give it a try, listen to the way he'll groan.

And all too soon it won't be enough, I know it. His turgid little clit pinned in my hand, his entire body splayed out for me, still tied. I really should fix that. Soon, sure. I need my hands free and I need my cock buried in him first. I'll give it one last thrust, one final squeeze to his clit, and then pull myself out, holding his folds apart. He might try to get away again, so I should be quick with this, working the head of my dick into his gaping hole. With the heel of my hand at the top of his pubis mound i should be able to keep him in place, at least enough, to thrust my way inside before he can get anywhere else.

Alright. With both hands free it's time to fix the ropes. He's probably got some compression damage on the wrist, maybe burns there and in his inner thigh both. And i need his legs to open wider anyway. I undo that and he's probably going to try to scramble up onto the bed; i'll use my off hand to catch him around the throat. Maybe by the hair instead. Maybe i'll hit him again. It'll make him jump, make him clench, make it all the better for me. Maybe i'll tell him I want to untie his wrist. Maybe he'll hold a little stiller for me, maybe he'll bide his time and try to get away when I undo the rope entirely. He'll feel good no matter what he's doing. I'll just be enjoying myself.

Instead of loosing his legs from his stupid tight jeans, I'll step through them with one leg, trapping his hips against me. I can maneuver fine like this. All it means is that he'll have even harder a time trying to get away from me. Then I'm going to lean over and sink my teeth into the side of his ribs.

By this point I know he'll be tired. Sapped of energy, between the fighting and the drugs. I'll take my sweet time with it. Tie his wrist back up right, tie his thigh up tight and admire the way it presses into the curve of his lower ass. Grope the parts of him he never lets me get away with touching, unzip his little binder and play with his stupid little tits and dig my fingers into the muscle between his belly and the bone of his hip, grab at his ass hard enough to bruise. Maybe i'll hold his little t-cock gainst the shaft of my own, stroke back and forth and tell him it's basically frotting, make a crack about how his is smaller than mine or something. Anything to put a little life into him, make him squirm and moan and go back to struggling like a fish on a line. Maybe he'll finally get one of his legs out of the jeans and try to kick me so I have an excuse to beat him black and blue.

I'll cum in him, just for the hell of it. I know he's not on BC, but i'd be surprised if anything came of it. I could blame it on his girlfriend if it did. Don't think they would even think of me either way. Then while he's lying there, tired and practically out of his mind, i'll take his phone and his thumb, use his tied-up hand to open the finger lock. What's he going to do, stop me? I'll open up his Instagram, post a story, maybe snap a picture of his face from the front, me barely visible in the back, slap some text on. "made a really bad choice tonight but it felt so good, might have to fuck around on the dl more often" or something. Throw some doubt on the record. We all know what he likes, it's not like it'd be out of this world for him to have asked me for this. If he didn't have that fucking girlfriend, that is.

Then I'll take some real photos, nice ones. Spanl bank material. His leaking cunt, maybe a shot with my fingers back in there if I'm still feeling tempted. My hands on his hair, his ass, his back, some of the brighter bruises. The ropes, probably. God knows the cherry burns and black fabric will sit nicely against each other. Maybe if he's really flying high I'll tell him to smile, see if I can't get a couple real good shots of his tear-streaked face in there too. Maybe i can even convince him he asked for this in the morning.

Because he's still going to be here, of course. He's high, he's got to sleep that shit off here. He knew that from the minute he got here.

I'll bundle him off to the shower, make sure he's clean and seems taken care of. I'll bandage any cuts. Remind him what a great time I had, tell him I'm glad we're friends. We'll crash in the same bed, the same way we always have. I'm sure he'll notice the way I'm holding him is hard to get out from unnoticed. I'm sure it'll be the first time he ever does.

In the morning I'll say something stupid, something cheesy. Ask him how I played the role or something, let him think I thought that was what he wanted. Ask if next time I should get him off more or if that was enough, if I should be rougher. If I scrambled his brains right, he'll be second-guessing already. He'll get nervous, get weird. He'll go home, work himself into a panic, and try to hide it from his girlfriend. But i'm sure someone's already shown her my post to his account, at that point.

Maybe they'll break up. Maybe he'll even ask me to tap his ass a second time, if I play my cards right.

Mmm... Maybe I really will invite him over. Just gotta make sure I have everything set up...

[slashingdisneypasta]

Dale Acton x Fem!Ex!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: Dale's shocked to spot you, the one who got away, in a bar one night and its very clear- he's not over it.

Warnings: Cursing, sexual references, reverences to mob activity and first-time smoking. Also unedited.

Its not long before Wayne notices Dale's attention continuously flitting away from the group and over to the bar side, seeing a girl get such a gloomy puppy dog look out of his young associate. A mean chuckle flickers out of his mouth, shaking his head and taking a slow sip of his beer.

"What are you waiting for? I can give you some pointers... but I don't think you want 'em... "

Looking away from the girl again, back to the table that only has 25 percent of his attention tonight, Dale picks up his own beer; putting it to his lips. "The hell are you talking about old man??"

"The girl y'cant stop starin' at. D'you know her? Or doya just want her ass that bad?"

At this Dale's mouth clamps shut, setting the beer back down and looking away. Not to her, this time. Just away from Wayne's horrible jeering face. He's not up for it, tonight- not with you here.

Norman, quiet up until this point and faced the opposite direction to the bar, takes this moment to turn around and check out this girl. He might as well; its better to know exactly what's going on, with these two. Well, with men like them in general... but especially his two morons.

It doesn't take much to figure out which girl they're talking about- he knew her. Y/N. She was hanging around Dale - or, actually, he was pretty much hanging around her. Not that she seemed to mind at all, for a while, - some years back. Before Wayne got out of prison and joined up with them. A little after that Lucas Cain fuck up.

... letting out a huff of a chuckle, barely smiling but definitely amused, Norman turns back to the table; shaking his head. Wayne jumps on him. "What?? What? Who is it???"

"Thats Dale's girl who got away... " Norman lifts up his glass, filled with amber liquid that burns, smirking into the glass. "Isn't that right man?"

Shifting uncomfortably and frowning deeply, Dale refuses to respond. He doesn't like them talking about you- he definitely doesn't like Wayne knowing about you. Yeah, sure, he's come to like the guy - he's a fucking asshole but the guy knows how to have a good time, sometimes, - , but you cant trust a guy like that. Though, Dale supposes, you cant really trust any one of them. They're losers... you were right.

Wayne watches him carefully though, dark eyes taking every little movement in and slowly smirking. "... oh."

"Oh?" Dale fucking hates it when Wayne does shit like this. Thinks he knows what the hell he's thinking when he doesn't. "Fucking what, old man??"

"You got a little broken heart, huh?~ "

"Shut up."

"Uhuh, real broke. What'd she do? Find someone new and leave your ass?" The smirk gets even bigger, like the cheshire-fucken-cat outta that one fucked-up movie - god Dale hated that movie, since an old buddy of his made him watch it while tripping balls on bad shrooms. Worst trip of his goddamn life, and the stupid fucking cat gave him nightmares for weeks, - , and then their's knocking under the table from above Wayne's lap. His hand's lost under the surface. "I bet he had a much bigger dick, right? Whore's are fickle like that, huh?"

Dale cant take the heat. Not fucking tonight. Before the old bastard can say more, he shoves the table in anger and gets up to his feet- leaving him and fucking Norman, who's not doing shit right now, to go smoke out the back. Maybe when he comes back, you'll be gone and he'll be alright again.

Once outside, the cool air on his face and a lit cigarette between his lips, he has a moment to think. What Wayne said hit its mark, of-fucking-course.

But he was still wrong. You didn't leave him for another dude; You weren't- well, you were a whore,.. but you were his whore. Or at least tats what you said that one time... trying to cheer him up after a bad night with Norman and Lyle. I'll do whatever you want, you'd told him so gently, his face so gentle in your hands and perched in his lap were you were supposed to be. Just please baby; smile. Cheer up for me. I hate to see you all mopey.

The memory warms him up in the cold, the smoke filling his lungs and calming him down. For a second he can forget that you're in there, feeling like you're thousands of miles away from him anyway.

You were the fucking sweetest. You were actually perfect.

He fucked it up. It was him. He knows that; thats the worst part.

You were okay with him working with the Tyrus', as long as he didn't get you in any trouble. And that was fine, he had thought at the time. No problem. He didn't want you getting hurt, either.

... But Lyle heard about you. He wasn't sure how, though he has a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with Norman. And he wanted to meet you. You said no, you didn't wanna be apart of it, and Dale thought- cool, fine. I'll just go tell Lyle you're not into it and that'll be that. Right?

Blowing smoke out of slightly parted lips and glowering at the opposite wall, the alleyway Dale's hiding in cramped and full of fucken trash feeling even smaller all of a sudden thinking about this. Because, no, Lyle wasn't fucking 'okay' with that; saying some shit like if the girl wont join the family then well she couldn't reap the fucken benefits- or something like that. And... he told Dale he had to drop her.

And Dale did.

He doesn't fucking know w h y he did, but he did. Like Y/N meant nothing. And he can still see the hurt, confused look on her face when he picked a fight with her out of nowhere all those years ago and left that same night. He can still fucking see it.

Getting so worked up, Dale accidentally crushes the cigarette between his fingers; making him curse as he chucks it to the ground and searches for another one to light. The flame is just lighting up his face again, when the back door to the bar opens up again and he looks up to see you slip out.

He freezes.

~

As soon as your eyes fall on Dale out in the alleyway, the gentle, tipsy smile falls off your face completely. Your eyes widen. You freeze.

"... fuck." You knew you saw Norman in there.

Dale lowers his head and comes towards you, flicking his cigarette away from him with a familiarly fingerless glove-covered hand and pocketing his lighter quickly. "I'm getting out of here, don't worry- "

Before he can squeeze past you through the door, way-too-damn close to you after all this time, you put a hand to his chest and push him gently back. "Hey, hey, hey. How come you get to leave??"

"Uh- okay, yeah you're right." He has that cute almost-innocent look on his face, almost believable with those pretty brown eyes if it weren't for the stoner goatee, and your stomach does summersaults that you sternly ignore. "What, uh... whadayou wanna do then??"

"I... " What do you want right now?? You want to yell at Dale, thats for sure. You've spent the last couple years getting over him and what he did to you (trying to figure out why), which was hard as fuck and the job is still not done apparently. But also you want to just be anywhere but here, snug in your apartment wearing fuzzy slippers watching horror movies or f.r.i.e.n.d.s; you don't wanna deal with this at all. So... Your gaze lowers to his pocket, where you saw the lighter disappear, and bite your bottom lip. "... can I get a smoke?"

"... you smoke now?"

"Right now I do! Can I have one or not?" You snap, irritated at him acting like a bonehead right now. He hops to it really quickly then, fumbling in his pockets to get out another cigarette and handing you the lighter. "Thanks."

A tiny smile slips across his face, pleased to hear something so 'nice', from you. "Uh, no problem- " Ugh.

"Don't talk."

"Ok."

~

About 10 minutes, a coughing fit and a back pounding from Dale, and you're just sitting side-by-side on the steps now. Silently.

... except- "Look, Y/N, lemme explain what happened when we uh- when we broke up. Okay? So- "

Except Dale cant keep quiet for too long. "What happened to the silence?? I liked that."

"Yeah, but- "

He's working you up, a deep frown drawing across your lips. "I don't wanna hear it!" You snap again at him, feeling all the frustration and confusion coming tumbling terribly back like the goddamn Jabberwock's head in Alice in Wonderland. God, you hate that movie- "I made up plenty of explanations after you left, and you know what? None of them made me feel better. I mean!?-- What could possibly be an excuse for what you did, Dale?? We were happy! I mean, I thought we were. But then you picked the dumbest fight out of- out of n o w h e r e, and left! And I never saw you again! Who the fuck does that?? How do you excuse that?? I don't- "

Suddenly those half cotton-clad fingers cover up your cheeks and you're pulled into familiar lips. You sink into the kiss like the last time you did it was just yesterday; tilting your head deeply and kissing him back with as much pent-up need as he is kissing you with. You didn't know you wanted this- missed this- needed this, until now.

When he pulls back, still holding your face, a thumb brushing against our cheek bone, your lips feeling bruised, he looks absolutely earnest. Which is an odd look on him, if you know him; which you do. Dale's a dumbass, bad news, insincere loser. Or at least, thats what you told him he was that loud night he just up and left.

"I know. There's no real fucking excuse. I just- I just wanted you to know, I guess... I didn't wanna."

... what on earth does that mean?? "Y'didn't- "

Suddenly he stands up and you have to crane your neck to look at him. But then he steps up onto the top step and reaches for the door, and you're watching him leave (again), and you cant help it. you scramble up after him and catch him by the arm and draw him back to you.

For a moment you don't know what to say, lips parted and mouth dry. This is possibly the dumbest thing you have ever done, but you never were smart when it came to Dale Acton. "... um- "

"What?"

"I- I- I don't know."

"You don't..?" He's searching your face for a clue kind of desperately, but you're searching for the same thing on his. You're both hopeless.

"I just... don't want you to leave again just yet." You don't know yet if you could stomach that excuse he was going to give you, or if you could ever forgive him-- but you're a little tipsy, and he looks so good, and you've missed him. There's never been anyone else, not one, and... Your fingers and eyes feel down from his shoulder, coming to rest unsurely on his chest. "I just... "

Looking up at his face again, you lose it. Your lips collide once again and this time its not just a short, little kiss.

~~~

Inside the bar Norman and Wayne watched you slip out the back a few minutes after Dale did and fully expected one of them to come storming out a minute later... but then 10 minutes past.

Then another 10.

By the time the half hour mark hits, Norman's rolling his eyes and Wayne's smirking into his 4th beer. They know what that means.

[e-m-p-error]

fuck it *gives chazz illumorphene*

Trials in Tainted Space Transformative Items Magic Anons

Illumorpheme - Grants the user moth attributes. If user does not have wings or antennae, illumorpheme will cause them to manifest.

[ Chazz ]

He didn't even notice as he was slurping on the tube of creamy liquid that anything was changing about himself. He hummed a little, bouncing his head from side to side to the song stuck in it when he noticed something weird dangling in front of his face. Long, feathery antennae hung down, drooping more when he noticed them before standing up straight.

"Wha-- Huh?" On his back, large seafoam green wings fluttered in confusion, further fueling that feeling in him, "What?"

Did he stop eating it? No. Was he confused? Absolutely. But he'd drank an entire teapot of shroom tea twenty minutes ago and he was chalking it up to a bad trip.

Sluuurp slurp.

"...damn." Whatever he'd been eating had been so tasty... Maybe he could find another one.

...if he could see. Why was he suddenly struggling so much to see?

[bisluthq]

Well yea the thing is I’ve been trying to move on for like 2 years lol I go on the dating apps and stuff but I can’t find anyone else who I’m all that interested in, especially not to the same degree as that guy

You know, okay - look. If you’re determined to do something then no one can really stop you. As long as you’re well aware that this is unlikely to be a happily ever after situation where you ride off on a white stallion into a gorgeous sunset, then far be it from me to tell you not to do it. I’ve done some stuff I knew would 99% end badly lol and I assessed the risks and sometimes did it anyway because like… I wanted to lol. Most egregious examples were fucking a girl at work non-exclusively even well into her getting into a relationship, like that was a total mess and I knew it but I kept doing it for literal years and honestly if she hadn’t emigrated idk how I’d have totally stopped lol because I really like fucking her and also her personality as a person lol and a lot about her actually but we also really actively don’t work as a couple. The other one was the spite sex situation with my situationship’s best friend. I also didn’t think that was smart but I wanted to lol so I did.

If this guy is into weird drugs see if he wants to do like an Ayahausca retreat or a shroom journey or something and maybe y’all can talk a bit more under those circumstances. Nothing like tripping balls with weird people tbf like it’ll most likely help u figure this out lmao or he a terrible experience but at least it’ll be progress.

[magnoliamyrrh]

Don't you have a psychotic father? Didn't you fear that acid might trigger psychosis in you too?

He did. Its unclear what has caused my fathers psychosis however. His mother holds that when he was young he overdosed on some medication and had a long series of epileptic-like seizures, and that this may be the source; doesnt seem too far fetched bc there have been cases of this happening, and of epileptic seizures causing religious-focused psychosis, and feelings of "heaven" and "hell." Noone else in that line of my family, or on any side of my familty, has had any kind of psychosis-inducing mental illness however, noone recently at least or noone that anyone knows of

I used to worry about it at the beggining, yes, every once in awhile I still do. I mean, before i even did psychadelics weed could have technically caused psychosis - ive met ppl in psych wards who had weed-induced psychosis who had no family history of it even; one girl who it hit after the first time she smoked, and didnt even smoke much. However, no matter how much and how frequently ive smoked, ive never come close to feeling like it was causing that - the most ive had is weed-induced paranoia and other shit, but nothing once I came down. To smoke weed was a risk in the first place, which i took, and so far its been years and nothing has hit me

When i first tried psychadelics, and acid was the first one, I knew it was a risk, one i took because I know I could handle high doses of weed without losing it, and because I was...... well. I was fucked up. anorexia bulimia suicidality a bunch of other shit, i wasnt far away from a second suicide attempt at all, and I couldnt rly see many ways out of the shitshow i was in - i figured if I didnt kill myself the anorexia or bulimia would kill me anyway...... and so, i decided to take the risk, that everything good ive heard might be worth it. And im very glad I did, bc theres a high chance id be...... either dead or much worse off today

By now ive tripped idk well over 50/60 times and have yet to feel like my brain has been pushed twoards psychosis. The most I can say is that, and this applies only to acid which I dont rly do anymore, when I did later on take probably too high doses and had rly bad trips,,,,, yea, in the middle of the bad trip i was afraid of that possibility (or more accurately afraid the trip would never end) - frankly, I think the fact that I had the strength to keep myself together and pull myself out of it got me through it; i dont know if someone else going through that experience without prior experience and the ability to try to keep it together would have had a psychotic break, idk, maybe so maybe not - maybe it wouldnt have been chemical but it would have been so traumatic that theyd have been lost in the sauce. Or maybe not........ the most i can say is that I learned my lesson w strong doses of acid, and that it did happen that I felt its effects for days or weeks after the trip - not psychosis or delusions - hard to explain, but its like the trip lingers; in good cases this is called psychadelic "afterglow," after bad or exhausting trips its not particularly pleasant

Sooo, idk. Yea, i guess it could happen, fuck it, it could happen with weed too. Its a risk I take. I don't smoke as commonly as I used to anyway, and I dont do psychadelics as often (tho frankly the times when I would do shrooms around once or twice a month were the most productive, stable, sane, happy periods of my life). I hope to God it wont, but it could, even being careful and respectful with it

....... overall though? psychadelics, and especially shrooms, have made me feel exponentially, exponentially more "sane" than I ever was before I took them..... and even particularly crazy trips managed to teach me, my brains a lot more put together and stronger than I thought it was

[viceandmen]

Dear friends,

There’s also something so cathartic being able to talk with y’all. It’s such a reciprocal relationship. I gab; you listen. I don’t ask for advice and you don’t give it.

Muah, truly chef’s kiss 🤌🏽

If I remember correctly my writing entails sharing about the revolving door of men and female friends in my life. Sometimes I sprinkle in my professional woes. No more drunk shenanigans as I’m coming up on 5.5 years no booze tomorrow.

I still get my kicks from trying to fix my world with relationships. Currently I’m involved with the boy across the street. After my two and half year relationship dismantled, I found a boy in AA to wipe away my tears but sadly his pen15 couldn’t get hard. Oopsies I suck at anonymity. Sue me.

And then the text came:

He had texted me about a year earlier which I not-so-politely ignored. This boy was my kryptonite and I was dating my ex. The last time I opened a dialogue with The Neighbor I ended up cheating on my first boyfriend. Another oopsie.

I was single and not really ready to mingle. The Broken Dick Boy cutting things off prematurely hurt my heart. Which goes to show how desperate I am for companionship. Willing to be with a boy who couldn’t pleasure me properly ooof.

But The Neighbor texted me and it felt like the clouds parted and the sun was shining on what I was searching for. We had met in 2016 and bonded over our mutual attempt at sobriety. I fell in lust or premature love, there was something that pulled me in. Sorry first ex boyfriend you were absolutely collateral damage in my quest for love. It’s not that yours wasn’t enough, I wanted more.

We both relapsed and found sobriety a few different times between 2016 and now. We both had separate relationships that ended. And here we were, both single, living across the street from one and other, and trying to remain drug and alcohol free.

So imagine how heartbroken I was after hanging out a few times to find out he had taken to drinking once more. And I’m a classic I-can-fix-it gal, I didn’t run, I got sucked in even further. I wasn’t about to let a six pack of hard ciders a night ruin my love story.

Oh how my heart fluttered when I got this text. THIS WAS IT. He wanted to get healthy with me by his side. GOD WAS DOING IT!

It was my pleasure escorting him to detox, receiving phone calls each night he was gone, and to pick him up with the widest of open arms. So fuck us both that a month later we’re back in this shitty threesome of me, him, and the booze.

I don’t want to leave him, I don’t want to take my sponsor’s suggestion and run, I want to stay. But boy am I uncomfortable. The change in his attitude, the way he nonchalantly makes digs at me, the spotlight on my defects. I want to hate him. I just hate this goddamn disease.

I’ve got 18 minutes left of my shift and I need to pee and make a coffee because afterwards I need to go across the street and grovel. When I found out yesterday he had maybe plans to go to the beach with a girl from high school, I let my jealous/insecurity send me into a reactionary rage of silence and tears.

My words escaped me and I pulled up a text thread from my girlfriend earlier. I wanted to text her to see if I was overreacting or reacting normally. But before I could, he came behind me to hug me. Instead of swiping the text away, I scrolled letting him see that I made plans to possible trip shrooms with her after achieving a year of sobriety from marijuana.

That was a mistake. He has mentioned weeks ago the idea of us doing them together on a mountain top and he thought because I felt hurt about him going to the beach I purposely pulled up the convo to hurt him back.

Maybe I subconsciously did. I bite back quickly and hard when I feel threatened. Not my favorite trait. Usually I’m so polite and perfect (sarcasm).

So I’m gonna go piss and plot how to make him feel safe when the irony of him drinking again makes me feel the opposite.

It’s the moments like this where I think everything will be alright. And we’ll be alright. That we’re just soulmates going through some soul problems.

Fuck me and my delusional romantic heart.

Until next time,

Yours truly.