#like i can’t live in an ugly room i will fully start conjuring visions of terrorism within 3 days

[foursaints]

saints, i love your room decor

we are going to kiss soon…

[maraudererasmut]

Experiment MJ001

TW: Drug and alcohol use. Mentions of drugs and alcohol use by minors. 

Marjiuana is legal in my country. It has been for a while.

I’ve always been very nervous about things in my life. Not anything in specific, just things in general. I had spend so long being repressed by my parents, I had cotten it in my head that drugs = bad and since marjiuana = drug, QED marjiuana = bad. 

Today, I decided to do something out of the ordinary and purchase a (legal) chocolate bar from the pot store and try it out!

So, I am currently high for the very first time in my life! (I’m in my late 20s)

I had an idea that I thought was brilliant at the time to write Wolfstar fan fiction about Remus getting high for the first time WHILE I was high and see what happened!

I also decided that I’m going to POST IT. Without editing it! (Pure, unadulterated chaos!!!) Now, for your viewing pleasure, the ramblings of a T on Pot. I have no idea if this is good or not. I haven’t read through it yet. I’ll probably wake up tomorrow, read this, regret it and delete it. But until then... enjoy!

((I’m sorry if it’s terrible!!!))

((I am also currently still high while typing this, so I apologize for any errors!!))

Remus had never consumed marjiuana before. Growing up, his parents had been very strict with what kinds of medication he was allowed to consume, particularly in regards to his lycanthropy. “You don’t know how it will affect the wolf, Remus.” “You don’t know what will happen…” “We can’t predict how the wolf will react…” 

Magic had always been the go-to remedies for colds or maladies; Muggle drugs were never to be trusted in the LUpin home.

So when Remus got drunk for the first time, he made sure that his friends were around to help him through the experience. 

Now, in his seventh year of school, Remus finally built up enough courage to ask his friends to, once-again, monitor Remus while he was testing the waters.

Remus sat with the three other Marauders, staring at the brownie in his hand.

“Are you sure this is safe?” he groaned, internally terrified of what may happen. The scent of the brownie wafted through the air, and Remus cursed his wolfish senses as his mind began convincing him that this might be worth it for the chocolate alone.

“”Yeah, I’m sure, Moons…” Sirius teased, licking his lips like a cartoon wolf sizing up a prized pig as he stared at his own brownie.

“Yeah, Pads and I have done this hundreds of times!” James chimed in, already  half way through his. “It’s fine!”

“You’re not werewolves,” Remus grumbled as he turned to Peter. “You’re the sensible one, Wormy. What do you think?”

Peter stared at Remus for a moment before breaking out into a smile. 

“I say fuck it!” he said, taking a bite out of his own brownie. “You only live once, Moons!”

Remus closed his eyes, took a bite from his brownie, chewed and swallowed. 

Nothing happened.

No big bang, no swirling in his brain, no sudden rush of feeling. 

“It’s… not working?” He said, turning to Sirius.

“Give it a bit, Moons! It takes time to work! It’s like alcohol!”

“Okay,” Remus said with a shrug, finishing the rest of his brownie. “So… what do I do until then?”

Sirius shrugged, but his smirk gave him away. He sat back onto the pillows and blankets that they had dragged to the ground, his head resting precariously close to Remus’ lap. He grinned up at Remus before reaching for his wand and giving a lazy flick into the air. 

Sirius’ record player began to spin, and All Along the Watchtower began playing, filling the entire room and seeping into Remus’ bones.

Remus laid back on the pillows, his head next to Sirius’. He closed his eyes and let Hendrix drift through his mind, trying not to let Sirius’ scent drive him crazy. 

Remus didn’t feel anything.

Not for a while.

He didn’t think it was even working.

The boys had spent the next hour talking, chatting, chilling, as they usually do on Saturday evenings. They talked about girls (James complaining about Lily), boys (Sirius’ trists with that Ravenclaw boy), and everything in between (Peter’s insistence that, yes, James, he is still Asexual. And no, James, he doesn’t need to double check.) 

Remus didn’t notice the time passing as he laid on the pillows next to his friends, for the first time in his life actually being able to participate fully. They normally spend evenings hanging out in the middle of the room. James and Sirius always got high. They had since they had discovered Muggle weed last year. Peter had partaken on occasion, but usually insisted that he preferred a couple of beers over weed. Remus, on the other hand, remained sober all night, watching his friends fall into various states of inebriation, testing their limits, seeing new sides of themselves. 

This was his first time.

Remus smiled to himself, thinking about how much fun it is to participate, even if he didn’t know what being high felt like yet. 

“What’re you smiling about?”

Sirius’ voice was practically a purr in Remus’ ear, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. 

“M’not… Not really. Just… happy to be here with you lads....”

“Mmm, same, Moons. Happy to be here… Today’s a good day to be alive…”

“That’s a weird thing to say…” Remus rolled over and looked at Sirius. 

Was Sirius always that handsome? Did his eyes always sparkle silver in their conjured lights? Did his hair always look that soft and touchable? What would happen if Remus touched it? Was his skin always so pale, so milky while, Remus had to resist leaning over and tasting it. Remus edged his arm over slightly, comparing his own freckle-dusted arm to Sirius’. One was slender and perfect and tattooed and lovely. One was broken and scarred and ugly. 

It was no wonder Sirius never noticed Remus.

“Whatya thinkin’ ‘bout?”

Sirius’ voice distracted Remus from his thoughts. 

“Mm? What’d’ya mean?” 

I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles…

The Who was playing in the background and Remus watched as Sirius’ head bobbed up and down to the music, a wide grin spread across his perfect cheeks. 

“I mean you’re thinkin’ of stuff. We all are… I am… That’s what makes things so cool when you’re high… You think of stuff…”

Remus blinked. What was Sirius even saying? What had he been doing? Was he thinking? He seemed to be thinking…

His brain felt like the needle was skipping across the record. Or that more than one record was playing at a time. Everything that was said out loud was one record in one player, and a vision of him talking to Sirius from a bird’s eye view was another record. And the way the music blended into his brain was another record. 

Was this what being high was?

“I’m thinking of the music… I guess. And… Mrs. Robinson…”

“Ha ha! That’s that one Hufflepuff chick, ya?”

“What? No… it’s… coo coo ca choo?” Remus closed his eyes. His mind was feeling a bit foggy. 

Put it in your pantry with your cupcakes…

“Oh! Yeah! Jesus holds a place for those who pray…”

“Hey hey hey!” James’ voice came from miles away. Or across the room. To Remus, it felt like both at once.

“Yeah,” Remus said with a grin, rolling over onto his left side to face Sirius. “Coo coo choo, Mrs. Robinson….”

“BOYS!” Peter hollered from the other side of the room. “Hot Blooded! This is my jam!”

Remus grinned, listening as the sound of guitar filled the room. He tapped along to the song, watching Sirius watch the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about, Pads?”

Sirius tilted his head towards Remus and gave a wink. 

“That I’m hot blooded,” he said, his tongue resting on his fang. 

“Pfftt… You’re just a horny mutt…” Remus teased. He felt an immediate pang of regret as Remus realized that Sirius was likely horny for a certain Ravenclaw boy. 

“Mmm, bet you are too. Not that you’d ever date anyone… But I bet you’re real bad, Moons… “

Remus rolled his eyes, trying to keep his heart from exploding from his chest with terror. Why was Sirius talking about how horny Remus was? That wasn’t something Sirius ever talked about. 

“You know how it is… not allowed. The whole… furry little problem…”

Oooh, I’m picking up good vibrations, oooh she’s giving me excitations…

“I’ve told you, just date one of us…”

Remus chuckled, trying not to show how much he wished he could. 

“Oh yeah, James would totally ditch Lily for me,” Remus teased, listening to the Beach Boys suddenly start the quiet part of Good VIbrations. 

“I didn’t say date James…”

“Oh, Sorry… Peter then… Yup. That seems like a great idea…”

Good good good good vibrations!!

“Are those really your only choices?”

Sirius was on his side at this point, facing Remus head-on, giving a sly grin. 

Normally, Remus would laugh this off as a joke and change the subject. Perhaps talk about the fact that Sirius had American Woman on his magical mixed-record. 

Today was different though. Today, Remus was feeling a little bolder. A little dizzier. A little more capable of looking at the situation differently.

Most days, from the very beginning of his life, Remus had been taught to be small, demure, less than other people. He knew not to make waves or say what was on his mind, because he was not to draw attention to himself. Today, for the first time in his entire life, Remus was starting to understand what it felt like to be a normal person. Someone who wasn’t a werewolf. Someone who didn’t grow up being told that they had to hide themselves because of societal pressures. Today, he could suddenly just say whatever he thought and felt and there was absolutely nothing keeping him from saying it. 

“I can’t very well date you, Padfoot. What would that poor Ravenclaw boy do without you in his life?”

“Who, Spencer? Nah, we were never an item. Just fooling around…”

“Fine then,” Remus said with finality, trying to shrug while on his side. Whoooo are you? Who who, who who? “I suppose you’re the only person in all of Hogwarts who I can date.” 

Sirius grinned his wicked grin, inching closer to Remus, his eyes positively smouldering. 

“I suppose so. Guess we’re to call it, then. We’re dating now…”

Whooo are you? Who who? Who who?

Aaaawww, who the fuck are you?

“Hear that Prongs,” Remus said, playing along with the joke. “Sirius and I are dating now.”

“Well it’s about goddamn time,” James yelled back.

Remus chuckled to himself, but when he opened his eyes, Sirius was there. In front of him, their noses almost touching… There was a moment…

Whoooo are you? Who who? Who who?

Remus inched closer, rubbing his nose to Sirius’, just playing along, just being silly, just keeping up with the game.

Sirius closed the gap.

Remus sank into the kiss, feeling Sirius’ lips against his own, Sirius’ tongue tasting like chocolate and pot, Sirius’ hands suddenly around his waist. 

Then Remus pulled away.

Who are you? Who who? Who who?

“Who the fuck are you?”

Sirius laughed, pulling himself slightly away from Remus.

“I just wanted to see how far you’d be willing to play along! I didn’t realize you’d actually let me kiss you!”

“Fuck…” Remus swore, starting to feel angry at Sirius. “Shit... I thought maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Nothing…”

“Maybe what, Remus?”

“Nothing, Sirius.” Sirius’ lips were against Remus’ again, but the werewolf knew better this time. He pulled away, his eyes narrowing. “Stop dicking around.”

“I’m not dicking around…” Sirius whispered, his voice dropping low and rumbly. Remus felt a chill down his spine as House of the Rising Sun played in the background.  

“Don’t kiss me if you don’t mean it,” Remus grumbled, before he had a chance to think about his words and and regret saying him, Sirius was kissing him again. Remus tasted his tongue and lips and the thrill of kissing someone he had wanted to kiss for as long as he could remember. Sirius pulled away, his eyes gleaming and ravenous. 

“I mean it,” he cooed. “I—”

Before he could continue, Remus was pressed into Sirius, taking advantage of his inebriated state and lack of over-thinking. 

“Get a room, you prats!” James called across the room. Remus didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything except the feeling of Sirius’ body against his own, Sirius’ hands around his hips, Sirius’ tongue in his mouth, Sirius’ teeth nipping his lower lip. Everything was Sirius.

Remus closed his eyes and lost himself in his Padfoot. He silently prayed that things could stay this easy forever, but deep inside, he knew that would be a dangerous path to head down...

[ghostking-wenning]

Radishes, Chapter 6.2

This one’s a 2-part! Enjoy!

2.5K, Rated G, modern au, NingXian etc

***

Qionglin sat bolt upright in his bed. A thin sheen of cold sweat coated his body, the sheets tangled around his legs. His chest heaved and his cheeks flushed. A dream. It was just a dream! Oh, but what a dream it had been. Wuxian on his knees before him, looking up at him as he… oh god. Qionglin clapped his hand over his eyes, as if that would block out the memory of that vision. 

Tentatively, he stood on shaky legs. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he hadn’t made a mess of his sheets, aside from wrinkling them beyond recognition. Sure, he’d had raunchy dreams before, but never like this! Never so long, with such detail, with a specific person that he actually knew! They weren’t even boyfriends yet! They had only recently shared their first kiss! Why would his brain conjure up such naughty imagery? Such naughty sensations?

He shivered remembering the feeling of Wuxian’s hands… and mouth… all over him. It had felt so real, even though he’d never done any of … that. His dream had even replicated the scent of his cologne, the flavor of his favorite wine. Heat coiled in his belly as he remembered the way he squished him against the wall, leaning his whole body into him. Then all that heat immediately rushed to his face when he remembered the way he had simply submitted to Wuxian’s ministrations, baring his throat like a dog to a wolf. 

Really? He asked himself. Is that what I’m into? A wave of dread and shame washed over him when he heard an echo of the words “good boy” whispered in his ear and remembered how much he loved it.

“Oh god,” he groaned aloud. “I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again…” What a shame that was, too, they were such beautiful eyes. Especially when they were fixed on Qionglin with that searing heat as he-- 

“Nope!” Qionglin said, forcibly derailing that train of thought. A cold shower. That’s what I need. He peeled off his sweat-soaked nightclothes and headed to the bathroom. In the mirror, he was almost surprised to find his neck and chest exactly as they always were, not mottled in lurid red marks. He couldn’t bring himself to look any further down, so he hopped into the shower and turned it on full-blast, hoping the water would pressure-wash his filthy mind. He didn’t even flinch at the cold.

He lost track of time, but he eventually calmed down. He dried off and redressed himself in clean pajamas. It was still several hours before he needed to be awake. He laid down on the couch, so he wouldn’t have to change his sheets for the moment. 

Mercifully, the rest of his sleep was dreamless and deep. He woke to the sound of his phone chiming. He had a message from his sister. 

“Happy birthday, little brother!! I love you! We still on for dinner tonight?”

Oh god it’s my birthday! In an instant, all traces of sleepiness vanished. Somehow he’d entirely forgotten his own birthday. Am I seriously that clueless? He shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself.

“Thank you, jiejie! Yes, of course, I’ll meet you at 7!” He replied, tacking on a few heart emojis.

Granny didn’t allow anyone to work on their birthdays, so he had nothing to do until dinnertime. He slumped on the sofa and stared at the ceiling until his phone pinged again.

“Bring that little punk boyfriend of yours. I have to make sure he’s good enough for you.”

He knew Qing well enough to read between the lines: “This is not a request.” 

He didn’t even bother pointing out that they weren’t technically boyfriends yet.

Usually he would be elated to spend time with Wuxian on his birthday, but a) Qing could be … intense… he wasn’t sure if he was ready to introduce them yet, and b) he was convinced Wuxian would somehow read his mind and discover what a weird pervert he was. Maybe he’s busy! Maybe he won’t even come. He tried to reason with himself, but that actually just made him sadder. 

It took a couple of hours to build up the courage to text Wuxian. He was a lot of things, sure, but he wasn’t a psychic. (Right? That would be crazy… right?) If Qionglin could just keep his cool, he’d never have to know about his dreams. He took a deep breath and opened the message app.

“Hey, Wuxian! Are you busy tonight?” He cursed the way his fingers shook as he typed.

Not five minutes later, his phone beeped.

“Nope! What’s up?”

Fuck. 

“I’m having a birthday dinner with my big sister, and I was wondering if you’d like to join us!” He decided not to mention that Qing wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Wait, is it her birthday or your birthday??”

“Mine.”

“What?!”

“Why didn’t you tell me!!”

“Happy birthday!!!!!!!!” 

“I forgot! I’m sorry!” It was fully true, but that didn’t make it less ridiculous to admit.

“FORGOT? Wild. Anyway I gotta go find you a present! Can’t wait to see you later!” A string of kiss emojis followed, and Qionglin giggled in spite of himself.

He gathered himself quickly and responded. “You don’t have to get me anything!!”

“Too late! I’m already out the door! See you later byeeee!” 

A minute later, Wuxian texted again. “Wait, where and when am I seeing you?”

Qionglin snickered softly, an endeared smile growing on his face. He sent Wuxian the map link and enjoyed about four minutes of peace before remembering why he’d been so nervous about texting Wuxian in the first place.

Panic hit him like a train. Several trains, maybe. His heart skipped and his fingers tightened around his phone so hard his hand shook. Calm down, he tried to tell himself over the alarm bells clanging in his head. Calm down!! Through sheer force of willpower, he evened out his breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth, he repeated like a mantra.

He walked briskly to his bedroom, pointedly ignoring the rumpled sheets on his bed and snatched his anxiety medication. He popped one in his mouth and hastily gulped some water, and sank into his desk chair. Leaning back, he shut his eyes and waited for his heartbeat to calm. 

Something to focus on, that’s what he needed. Something hands-on. But if Granny caught him working the fields, she’d chase him away with a rake -- it had happened before. So he decided on target practice. He grabbed his bow from its stand in the living room and marched out to the woods. 

In a small, round clearing were a line of painted wooden targets he’d made himself. He liked to warm up starting from 30 meters, then progressively back away. He took a deep breath as he lined up his shot, shoulders flexing as he drew the bowstring back. The middle target, dead center. He exhaled slowly as he released the arrow, which made a satisfying thunk as it sank exactly into the center of the target. 

After landing perfect bullseyes into each target, he backed away to 40 meters, then 50 and so on. He felt perfectly centered; there was nothing in this forest but him, his bow, and his breath. 

He leapt about a foot in the air when his phone chimed in his back pocket. How was it already 5 PM!? Where did the time go? He thought, as he began to gather his arrows. It was well past time to get ready. He hurried back to his house, where a fat orange barn cat woke from its nap on Qionglin’s rain boots. It made a curious prrt noise as it fixed big yellow eyes on him. This was the one his little cousin had dubbed “Cheese.”

“Hello, Cheese,” he greeted, stooping to scratch behind its ears. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come inside.” Cheese purred and pawed at the door, but didn’t put much effort into following him inside. 

Hanging up his bow, he realized he felt much better, as if his thoughts sorted themselves out on their own. It was just a dream. It’s perfectly natural, and he’ll never even know! And if he found out somehow, I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t blame me at all. It was magical, almost, how archery relaxed him, even as it wore out his muscles. (His medication probably also helped, but he liked to think it was mostly archery.)

He washed his face, and pulled back his hair, fussing with the locks that were too short for his half-ponytail. Poking through his closet once again, he wondered if Wuxian would say anything if he wore the ghost shirt again. He decided against it, instead opting for a grey striped shirt and a dark blue cardigan that he thought looked pretty sharp. He may not have a lot of nice clothes, but he thought maybe he was getting better at dressing well. Well-ish, at least, he thought, tugging on his comfy-but-ugly sneakers, but it was those or work boots. 

He checked his pockets and whisked out the door to his car. He would probably still be on time.

He was not.

Fifteen minutes late, he scurried into the restaurant and scanned the room for his sister. At least for his birthday she might not scold him for being late. Soon enough he found her, looking polished and perfect as ever, in a tasteful dark red dress with her long black-tea-colored hair in a sleek braid. Across from her was none other than Wuxian, Qionglin realized with a start. What-- how did she find him? Why-- oh god what are they talking about? 

He stood stock-still for a few seconds, until Wuxian laughed brightly, the sound spurring Qionglin forward. As casually as possible, he strolled over and plunked down beside them. With any luck he’d missed the awkward small talk and Qing inevitably giving Wuxian the third-degree about what he does, and his intentions with her little brother.

“S-sorry I’m late,” he said, offering a sheepish smile. 

Qing looked like she wanted to say something about it, but Wuxian beat her to it.

“No worries! Happy birthday!” He said, grinning and reaching for Qionglin’s hand. 

“Mhm,” Qing agreed. “Happy birthday, hun.” She patted his cheek fondly, and he blushed, unable to hide his cheesy grin at the attention.

“Thanks…” he mumbled. “Um, so, I guess you’ve already met, so I don’t need to introduce you. I-- I hope you weren’t waiting too long, though.”

“Not at all! Your sister was just telling me about how cute you were when you were little,” Wuxian said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Qionglin’s head whipped around. “Qing!” He complained, exaggerated betrayal written on his face.

She smiled deviously. “What? You were adorable! You used to hide behind me and follow me everywhere like a little duckling.”

Qionglin groaned and buried his face in his hands while Wuxian giggled. 

“He’s still adorable,” Wuxian said. “Absolutely too cute.”

“Yep.” Qing nodded. 

Well, at least they’re getting along… Qionglin thought. The rest of the evening went in a similar fashion, the two of them teasing him affectionately and relishing in his embarrassment. After dinner, they sat around chatting over glasses of wine. Qing reached into her purse and produced a small envelope. 

Qionglin carefully opened it and read the card. Tucked into the corner was a gift card to a ritzy clothing shop.

“I’ll take you shopping next weekend, if you’re free.” Qing promised. 

“Mm! Thanks jiejie,” Qionglin said leaning over to give her a one-armed hug. 

“Ooh, my turn!” Wuxian chimed in. From inside his jacket, he pulled a little bundle wrapped in red tissue paper. He handed it over, grinning proudly.

Qionglin untied the silver ribbon holding it together, and the paper unraveled. Inside was a packet of heart-shaped candies and a set of charming pins shaped like monsters: a werewolf, a sea serpent, an alien, and a ghost, much like the one on his t-shirt. Qionglin’s heart threatened to burst in his chest. Faintly blushing, he gazed up at Wuxian, who was watching him intently, eyebrows raised.

“Thank you…” he said, somewhat breathlessly. “I love these.”

Wuxian’s face split into his signature dazzling grin. “I’m so glad! I noticed you don’t accessorize much, and I thought maybe it was because jewelry would get in the way of farm work or whatever, so I figured pins might suit you-- I even made sure to get the kind with extra-sturdy backs so they won’t fall off!”

Qionglin chuckled shyly. “That’s… really thoughtful. Thank you,” he repeated.

Qing scoffed lightly. “Way to show me up,” she said looking pointedly at Wuxian, but she was smiling. She gave a small, approving nod. Apparently Wuxian met her expectations well enough. She stood gracefully and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Well, I should get going, but you two have fun, okay? Dinner’s on me.” She bent slightly and gave Qionglin a firm hug and kissed the top of his head. 

Then she walked around him and extended her hand to Wuxian, who shook it graciously. She leaned in and whispered something to him that Qionglin couldn’t hear. 

Wuxian’s eyebrows shot into his hairline and he blanched. “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured weakly. 

Qing flashed Qionglin an indulgent smile and bid them both goodnight, before sweeping away, paying the bill and leaving, her heels clacking decisively.

Qionglin cleared his throat awkwardly. “S-so that’s my sister,” he said tentatively. “I hope she didn’t say anything rude.”

Wuxian laughed, light and breezy, like he hadn’t just looked scared out of his wits. “Nothing unusual, anyway. Just the shovel talk-- and a quick one at that. Very efficient. She’s cool, though!”

“Isn’t she?” Qionglin agreed wholeheartedly. “I-I’m glad you got along okay. She seems to approve. Of you, I mean. Of-- of us.” He felt his cheeks color slightly, savoring the word us.

Wuxian smiled again, and squeezed Qionglin’s hand. “Good. Because I plan on sticking around.”

When they finished their wine, they took a walk through a park to sober up. The moon was just beginning to rise over them as they strolled leisurely, hand-in-hand. 

“So, how old are you now? 23?” Wuxian asked, somewhat out of the blue, stopping and stepping off the paved trail.

“Mhm, exactly.” Qionglin said, following him into the trees. “Why?”

“For this,” Wuxian answered. He tugged Qionglin closer and cupped both sides of his face, then began peppering him with kisses, everywhere he could reach. Qionglin spluttered and tried to pull away, but Wuxian was unstoppable. He seemed determined to cover Qionglin’s entire face in a layer of kisses. “20,” he murmured, kissing his left eyebrow. “21,” he kissed the center of his forehead. “22,” he kissed the tip of his nose. “23,” he whispered, and at last kissed Qionglin’s lips, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him tight.

When they finally parted, Qionglin was breathless and practically vibrating. He hid his face in Wuxian’s collar and snuggled close. Wuxian chuckled lightly and nuzzled his hair. “Happy birthday, Qionglin.”