#mentions of drug addiction //

[realtjhammond]

Thomas James "TJ" Hammond

Gay Icon, Former First Son, Renegade. Recovering drug addict. I own a club, The Dome. Thanks to my brother Doug, he lent me the money to get it started. I play the piano and have slowly been trying to pick up some more healthy hobbies. I don't shy away from drinking and still like to have a good time. My ex Not-boyfriend broke my heart, calling me a Pathetic American Punchline and that chased me into a dark spiral, you can ask about it if you'd like. I'm just looking for some good people to hang out with so… Ask questions, always open to praise and adoration since it's pretty lonely being a son of a political figure. 

Words from the Mun!

//Hello! Please read rules before interacting, after you have done that then have at it! All Starters will be tagged under #starter or #starters if you would like to jump into a thread right away. Send in asks for shorter interactions, and then if you would like to brainstorm then my DM’s are open, just give a quick hello and I'll ask you for your ideas and all that stuff. I'm looking forward to it!//

[emotionaleating]

pls don’t flirt with me i want to be nonchalant so bad but i unfortunately crave connection so intensely that i will give you my entire soul and forgive you over and over until i’ve lost myself completely and feel like i’m drowning

[uncanny-tranny]

I guess what gets me about fatphobia is seeing someone literally recovering from addiction and gaining weight being framed as a bad thing because a substance use problem that is eating you from the inside out is preferable so long as you are twenty pounds lighter.

It has never been about people's health.

[genderqueerdykes]

i know this won't be available everywhere, but especially if you live in a larger city where a lot of folks are affected by opioid use/addiction, it's a really good idea to ask local pharmacies, and even food banks if they are giving out free narcan (naloxone). this can also be found at certain behavioral health offices as well, my case manager is able to get them for me for free. narcan is a life saving medication that can temporarily halt an opioid (oxycodone, hydrocodone, heroin, fentanyl, codeine, morphine, etc.) overdose while you wait for emergency medical services to arrive.

opioid overdose is distress of the respiratory system, meaning that the person overdosing likely is struggling to, or can't breathe at all. it's very important to watch to see if the person is dealing with labored or shallow breathing.

here the official use guide:

[Image ID start: Two screenshots from the FDA's Narcan (Naloxone HCl) Quick Start Guide infographic. It reads:

"Narcan (Naloxone HCl) Nasal spray quick start guide. Opioid Overdose Response Instructions.

Use NARCAN Nasal Spray (naloxone hydrochloride) for known or suspected opioid overdose in adults and children.

Important: For use in the nose only.

Do not remove or test the NARCAN Nasal Spray until ready to use.

1.) Identify Opioid Overdose and Check for Response Ask the person if they are okay and shout name.

Shake shoulders firmly and rub the middle of their chest.

Check for signs of Opioid Overdose:

Will not wake up or respond to your voice or touch

Breathing is very slow, irregular, or has stopped

Center part of their eye is very small, sometimes called "pinpoint pupils".

Lay the person on their back to receive a dose of NARCAN nasal spray.

2.) Give NARCAN nasal spray

Remove NARCAN nasal spray from the box. Peel back the tab with the circle to open the NARCAN nasal spray.

Hold the NARCAN nasal spray with your thumb at the bottom of the plunger and your first and middle fingers on either side of the nozzle.

Gently insert the tip of the nozzle into either nostril.

Tilt the person's head back and provide support under the neck with your hand. Gently insert the tip of the nozzel into one nostril, until your fingers on either side of the nozzle are against the bottom of the person's nose.

Press the plunger firmly to give the dose of NARCAN nasal spray.

Remove the NARCAN Nasal Spray from the nostril after giving the dose.

3.) Call for emergency medical help, Evaluate, and Support

Get emergency medical help right away.

Move the person on their side (recovery position) after giving NARCAN Nasal Spray

Watch the person closely.

If the person does not respond by waking up, to voice or touch, or breathing normally another dose may be given. NARCAN Nasal Spray may be dosed every 2 - 3 minutes, if available.

Repeat Step 2 using a new NARCAN Nasal Spray to give another dose in the other nostril. If additional NARCAN Nasal Sprays are available, repeat step 2 every 2 to 3 minutes until he person responds or emergency medical help is received.

For more information about NARCAN Nasal Spray go to www.narcannasalspray.com, or call 1-844-4NARCAN (1-844-462-7226)."

End image ID.]

[scintillatingshortgirl19]

gee i wonder if the issue could be at all related to the fact that the current treatment plan for his chronic pain consists solely of FUCKING IBUPROFEN

[organovore]

doomed to always be a slave to his vices

-

murphy was on his road to recovery after a debilitating drug addiction, until him and his broodmates were all killed and embraced…. and it felt like he hopped from one vice to another. except this one forced him to hurt even more people who got in his way

[danneroni]

the end is death

[whumperofworlds]

Whumpee who recently got off of some addiction (drugs, caffeine, something like that), but during captivity, Whumper forces them to take the addiction back.

(Was thinking of that one story @kabie-whump wrote with Ventis. 👀)

[leclercari]

“Alex wonders how such rich genetics conspired to make Bea and Henry both so interesting to look at, all mischievous smiles and swooping cheekbones, but punted so hard on Philip. He looks like a stock photo.”

[miss-may-i]

Miss May I: Season 5 Part 37

Noah: So that's it? Instead of talking to me about it, you just run and file for divorce?

Julian: We were supposed to talk, but then you stood me up to get sucked off by her. Why even wait this long to bring it up? You know what you did--what you've been doing.

Noah: Who's her?

Julian: That's what I want to know. Who is she? How long have you been cheating on me?

Noah: Julie, I don't know what you're talking about. You're the love of my life. We have a family together. You have to believe me.

Julian: The girl with the silver hair. Who is she?

Noah: ...

Noah: She's a co-worker.

Julian: So what? Another drug dealer? Another junky?

Noah: A friend.

Julian: A friend? Friends don't do that to friends. Why even marry me if this is how you're going to treat me?

Noah: Our marriage meant everything to me! You're the one giving up.

Julian: No, I don't give up on anything. I'm just flat out done. I was willing to support you if you got help for the drugs, but now cheating just makes me look stupid.

Noah: Cheating? I would never cheat on you. You and Jasper mean everything to me. You're the only one who never gave up on me.

Julian: You can't gaslight me about this. I saw it with my own two eyes. Everyone warned me about you and I'm an idiot for not listening. I can't believe I actually thought you changed.

Noah: Jules, I don't know what you saw--

Julian: But it's not what I think?

Noah: No, no ... I believe you saw what you saw. You're right, it's the drugs. I don't know who I am when I'm on them. It's just ... I don't always know what I'm doing, or even remember it.

Julian: The sad thing is that I believe you, too. Do you even remember what you did do Vivian's house? The house your son was living at. You need help, Noah.

Noah: Help me.

Julian: No. I've drawn my line. I don't want Jasper to see his father in prison or a body bag, but that's exactly where this is headed. And I don't want to see that either. I've seen enough.

Noah: Before you go, at least answer me this:

Noah: When were you going to tell me about the baby?

Julian: When it was safe.

______________________________________________________________

Previous | Beginning | Next

Season 1 | Season 2 | Season 3 | Season 4

Family Tree

[emotionaleating]

[perkyaddict]

All I ever do is get fuckeddd uppp

[f4t-tr4nny]

give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs give me drugs

[anotherpapercut]

genuinely so many of you want to be leftist and "punk" and countercultural soooooo bad but you refuse to become comfortable with the concept of people taking drugs for fun because they like it and not because they were somehow tricked or forced into it without knowing what they were getting themselves into

you'll be like "addiction is a disease!!" but think you're better than those degenerate stoners because you only drink energy drinks and white claws and would never touch "illegal drugs"

many if not most drugs CAN be consumed completely safely with almost 0 risk to the user and even if that werent true and all drugs were extremely dangerous you still wouldn't be better than those of us who love doing drugs recreationally

lighten up and grow up. get offline, talk to real adults, and stop being shocked to discover that they enjoy doing stuff that adults do like have sex and do drugs and even listen to rock and roll

[gaysexdungon]

Tip for shoplifters or people looking to stash drugs:

Get a teddy bear or other plushie, a medium or larger one is best. Cut a hole in the back, just straight down the back in the middle. Get it a little shirt to cover the hole. Carry it with you. Doubles as comforting and a tool.

For stealing: People find this endearing or odd. This will distract them from the fact that you are stealing. If they find it endearing they will view you as too innocent to steal. If they find it odd they will be too focused on that to notice things. At least in my experience. Don’t be a dick, only steal from corporations who do more harm than good.

For stashing: Good stash place too. If you are using it as a stash place it good because if you carry it with you 24/7 you are less likely to lose it and people will not mess with it out of fear of upsetting you if you are worried about someone searching your stuff. Helpful if you sleep with it too.

It is also just nice to have a plushie friend, I’d carry one anyways. Sending luck.

[paingoes]

Crash Out - Reflection

Birthday, shower thoughts, shrooms

Paris reflects on the birthday incident and his life in general

(Content: whumper turned whumpee, (ex) royal whumpee, living weapon whumpee, whumper POV, past abuse, abuse apologism, dehumanization, beating, drugs, addiction, body image, minor emeto, suicidal ideation, guilt, death mention)

It was his birthday and the same night everything was destined to be destroyed. The Castle Thales seemed to know this and did its best to look haunted. The warmth of her presence broke through all that was the cold and crystalline. She was the only one he could stand to speak to.

Everything had been fine until they’d ended up back in the main hall and that old argument started up again.

Delta knelt at the side of the throne with the golden chain around his neck. All the bruises had been painted over carefully. He looked bored more than anything else. One hand played idly with the thread of the carpet. He did not see them come in.

Lorelai went rigid just as soon as she saw him. She pulled away from Paris as harshly as if he’d hit her.

“…You really keep him there all night?” she asked in unease.

He rolled his eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed. He didn’t want to go through it again now. Not on his birthday. He wanted a single fucking night where he didn’t have to think about it.

“Yeah,” he answered flatly. Obviously.

Her expression darkened, “And you make him wear a leash.”

“Who cares?”

“I’m sure he does,” she said, “Can you imagine how he feels?”

“Oh my god, are you still on about that commie shit?” He moved one hand to his hip, his irritation deepening. He was tired of explaining this. She wouldn’t understand.

“You are mean,” she said. She said it like it was a revelation, like it was something that was supposed to surprise him. Like she was finding it out now for the first time.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“You’re worse each time I see you.” 

Something like horror was dawning in her eyes. She was the only person he cared about in the world and in that moment, he swore that he hated her.

~

One year later, in the bathroom of a rundown motel, he washed the dirt off of his hands and carefully re-bandaged all the places the skin had torn. The air was heavy with steam. It opened up the shredded membrane of his throat. It distorted his reflection.

“Can you imagine how he feels?”

The thought came to him without warning, but with the kind of day it’d been, it didn’t come as a surprise. And he couldn’t have imagined it, not really. He’d never spared Delta the time, or even the consideration.

But he was starting to. He could almost imagine it, forced down onto his knees by the barrel of a gun, the blindfold tied over his eyes. He’d treated it like it was nothing. Empire demanded sacrifice — from everyone. It was all just more of the same.

He wiped at the mirror to reveal the litany of bruises along his skin. His body was turning into a minefield of scars. It was meth thin, and tired often. He’d done such a number on it.

~

Twelve hours earlier, Lorelai’s ship had pulled down onto the clearing of the festival. For all that had happened, the partying had went on uninterrupted throughout the entire trip. She’d asked if he wanted to skip it for a little bit, since his head was fucked, and since his body was fucked, and since he’d almost died. He said no.

It didn’t take them long to disappear into the crowd, about as indistinguishable from any other pair of losers in their twenties. She could get along with anyone — and he was finding it was a lot more tolerable to talk to people when they didn’t know who he was.

They found refuge in the company of the spring-breakers. College students. They were easy to work. The fine arts student pulled a knitted pouch from within her purse.

“No. None for you. Don’t give him any,” Lorelai insisted, popping a handful of the shrooms into her mouth.

“I’m fine,” Paris said.

“No. You always freak out.”

“I’m literally fine.”

“Don’t give him any.”

They waited until her back was turned before making the handover. 

“I took it,” he said, the moment she turned back.

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

~

“You know what? Fine.” He yanked at the chain around Delta’s neck, harder than he needed to. He slid the key into the lock. The chain clattered loudly to the floor.

“Fuck both of you.”

He stormed out. It was freezing on Thales that night and he could barely feel it. He was hot. He was burning all the way through the wood path.

He stomped up the ramp of the ship and all the way to his room.

Empire demanded everything. It would erode away at any happiness he might’ve gotten, any other life he might’ve had. He would give and give and give and get nothing and still keep at it endlessly. He’d made his peace with it. 

He thought he did.

And still he thought he might have her. 

Empire would rob him of that too. It was the final intrusion, one final act of self denial.

He handled it with all the grace of someone off six different stimulants.

He tore his room apart and he took everything in it. He was in the grip of it. All the scorn and betrayal bubbled up and coiled and burned. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.

She belonged to him. 

They both did. 

~

Through the thin walls of the motel room, he could hear her on the other side. She laughed softly, her voice indistinct as she took the call.

She could never know. He’d tell her almost anything, but this she could never know. 

He tried to imagine saying it to her now. He tried to imagine telling her what he’d done that night. The fear and the shame coursed through him like ice. He never could. 

Everything he owned fit inside of the trunk of her ship. There was so little that belonged to him anymore. 

~

The shrooms crept up on them about midway through the set. They hit her first. He saw the way her eyes dilated, the little mania that crept into her movements, and knew he did not have long to go. Sure enough, the colors shifted, and the strange vibrations through his body picked up in synch with the bass.

He thought it was fine. In the busyness and brightness of the crowd, he could almost forget that it was his destiny to freak out each time he went on psychs. It was only as the sky darkened and the music quieted that he felt it crawling.

They were in the woods. Why hadn’t he realized it until now? He stumbled back to the college kids’ little outpost and found that they were surrounded by woods on all sides. He was on the ground. He was in the dirt. Something large and tiger shaped crested in his periphery. Something dog-headed flashed behind his closed eyes — and the harder he tried to push the thought from his mind, the more it wanted to stay. He whined miserably into his crossed arms, hiding his face in the grass.

“I told you not to take it,” Lorelai sighed, combing her fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, meaning it. 

“Shh,” she said. She kissed his temple. “Just ride it out.”

~

It was so easy to blame Delta. He’d gotten into the habit of it. And Delta took it so endlessly. He never fought back. 

Paris would never be happy. He’d known it for a long time. Empire demanded sacrifice. It demanded and demanded and demanded. Paris would give to it endlessly, everything. He did everything for it.

He was so fucking sick of it.

He did not dream of a better life. He dreamed of dying. He dreamed of crashing the ship into the side of a mountain and killing everyone onboard. He dreamed of unlocking Delta’s collar at the ball and unleashing upon all of them a fury that they’d all done everything to deserve. He dreamed of death in a million different ways.

Paris hated his life. He hated Empire and that nuclear bomb they had built up in his brain, the child they’d ripped from his home and turned into a machine, the fucking symbol of all that had ever gone wrong. Real evil burns and coils and glows. It destroyed cities and cut civilians in half. It cauterized wounds and bled from the mouth. It was down there now, with one of Lorelai’s hands pressed up against its own.

Because Delta was so fucking blameless. He’d never had a choice, he heard Lorelai’s voice in falsetto.

What fucking choice had he had, either? Delta got to be blameless. And he got to be worse each time I see you. He got to be mean.

He did the last of the line off of the cracked sink.

He’d show them fucking mean.

~

He felt around in the space between his ribs. He traced careful fingers over the star-shaped scar on his chest and then again over the bandages on his palm. It still hurt nearly too much to touch. He didn’t know when it would heal again. They’d stitched it up for him at CTRL and they had not even done it painfully. He hadn’t understood why. He still didn’t understand why.

The word mercy tasted sour against his tongue. It spun sickly within his mind. 

Wasn’t he just a little bit disappointed when the gun was removed from his mouth, when his life was extended any longer than it had to be?

And wasn’t he so devastated when he learned that he was spared?

He traced the scratches along his arms. Delta’s claws had gotten in deep. It was some of the last traces of him left on the earth. All the rest was buried at the bottom of the ocean.

It wasn’t fair.

He didn’t deserve it.

~

One of the art students gave him a sketchpad just to shut him up. He took it, grateful to give any form to the horrific intrusions.

He drew wolves, mostly. Wolf heads. Lorelai laid down on the grass beside him. The others were sprawled out a bit further away. 

She wanted to share the paper with him. He held it in between the two of them. His drawings were scary, at first. All the wolves had eyes in their throat. All the lions had teeth like knives.

But she filled in the empty space with vines and flowers until it looked like a jungle you’d find in a children’s book. She said she wished they had paint. He remembered she’d been good at that. They’d have gotten a lot of mileage out of it. 

He felt his fear dwindling. He felt guilty that he let it.

He knew he freaked out whenever he took it. He did that with most things, really. Did he even like drugs? Why had he taken it?

~

Paris barely heard him. So much adrenaline coursed through his system that even seeing felt like an impossibility. He didn’t bother holding back anymore. He didn’t want to.

The impact broke the mirror open and scattered the shards all across the floor. He threw Delta roughly down on top of the broken pieces, not caring. The glass crunched beneath his boots, crystalline, iridescence.

Everything was ruined. Everything was ruined and there was no coming back. There was no hope.

He pulled his leg back and drove it straight into the side of Delta’s rib, listening for the crack that followed. He hated it. He hated all of this so much he could not stand it. He was spiraling, he knew, completely lost in the goddamn tantrum. He didn’t care. He wished they’d both just fucking die.

He yanked at Delta’s collar again, dragging him into the bathroom. He was going on about some shit that Paris didn’t understand, that he couldn’t even begin to care about. If he’d been listening, if he’d really been anywhere but inside his own head, he might’ve noticed that Delta had been crying. That he’d started begging. He didn’t notice. He took a rough handful of his hair, forcing his head back down whenever he squirmed too much.

The water reached the rim, and he’d forced his head under that, too.

Delta laid gasping within the tub, the thick strands of his hair slick and wet across his face, his wrists bound up in chains. He’d tried to speak again. He couldn’t. Paris clamped a hand over his mouth. He didn’t want him to speak, to interrupt his own spiral. He wanted to feel it all, to drown in it.

“I hate you,” he said.

And Delta’s eyes got wide, probably wondering what he’d done wrong, as if it’d ever been about him at all.

~

He tried to throw up, but nothing could come out. He hadn’t eaten in days. It’d become habit. His hands were shaking and his nose was bloody and the hot steam of the bathroom made it so that there was no coolness to the tiles. He felt no relief even as he pressed his skin against them, as badly as he wanted to lie down on the floor and never get up. He was sick.

He could still hear Lorelai through the door, the faint sound of the phone call, and of her music playing in the background. She seemed to know, always. He heard her rising up from the bed, a gentle knock at the door.

“Paris?” she called softly through it.

He winced, closed his eyes. How could he ever begin to tell her?

He was sick.

~

Did he even like drugs? He asked himself this again and again, still sprawled out on the grass, still with her beside him. The night was on in earnest now. Thousands of stars peppered the sky. The music student said there would be a meteor shower tonight. Maybe they’d get lucky.

Why had he fought so hard and so fiercely? They’d come all this way, across a hundred different planets, across an entire year. He’d dragged her from her home and across the galaxy. It was such a desperate bid.

He must have wanted to live. This was the behavior of someone who wanted to live.

And so why had he gotten drunk every night of the trip, and each night before that, ever since he turned fifteen? He’d taken the pills off the street when he could afford to pay for the real thing. He’d forgone the test kits, when it was no trouble for him to get them. He’d taken more than he should and he’d picked fights he couldn’t win. He’d spent hours prodding at Delta, at an atom bomb, just hoping for something-

He hoped the ship would crash sometimes. He hoped the stars they passed would explode without warning. He hoped for one thing, desperately, and he had for as long as he could remember.

I want to die.

It was a quiet admission. He could only say it in his head. Lorelai was tripping too hard, it would throw her in a bad way. But as it surfaced, there was no way to submerge it again. It rose up all at once.

Death evaded him. It was denied to him. Was he ever relieved afterwards? He wasn’t. He hadn’t been.

The world was cruel as it was endless — and it was out for him. He would die just as stupid and evil as everyone else had been.

But then they’d been so careful when they pulled him out of the grave. They’d bandaged his hand and stitched it without hurting him, even when they had every right to. They’d given him blood from their veins when his own had run out.

Lorelai’s hot tears had fell onto the bare skin of his clavicle. She’d clung to him when he was found. She didn’t want to see him in pain. In spite of everything.

She killed for him.

I want to die.

And as soon as he admitted it, he didn’t want it anymore.

“Lorry, I think I need to get sober,” he said.

She turned over in the grass, whining a little bit.

“Me tooooooo. Why is it lasting so long?”

“No, like, permanently.”

“Oh.” She poked her head up. “Are you serious?”

His hand rested against his chest. He could feel his heart beating beneath it, quick and painful. The same frantic rhythm it’d been honing for years. He nodded.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

Her face turned back into the grass. He looked back up into the sky, waiting for his heart to settle down, waiting for meteors. Absently, her hand reached out for his own.

~

On the morning after his birthday party, Paris woke up with sick clarity, and he knew he’d done something he could never take back.

One week later, Delta was dead and the kingdom was lost.

~

Paris stood up roughly from the bathroom floor. He pulled a clean shirt over his head and combed his hair out with his fingers. 

As he looked up into the clouded mirror, he remembered the shards that had spilled out onto the floor of Delta’s room. He’d broken the mirror.

Seven years of bad luck.

He was sure he’d earned himself so much more than that.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @whump-queen