#mushrooms like acid but if it was weed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kremlin · 9 months ago

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@wikwalker hi sure yes anything to give me an excuse to procrastinate the post i should be writing right now. here are all teh drugs and how to manage them. you can trust me, a drug addict

first of all: https://www.erowid.org/ , erowid always

don't be afraid of drugs, if they're the right drugs, you should do them since they will be a blast regardless and overcoming fear is also good (but outside the scope here)

OK to do as much as you want: alcohol - social benefit greatly outweighs health effects, no reason to avoid if predisposed to abuse since that'll happen sooner or later. what can i say? don't be a fucking dork. when you start drinking, really overdo it as much as possible without dying and get a few real nasty hangovers under your belt so you know how much is the right amount to drink.

weed - innocuous enough to be fine but will make you stupid in the long term. make sure to only buy from a real drug dealer and never some legal institution. cut it out when you're a "real adult". don't smoke weed and watch TV routinely, go out and do things so you naturally grow to hate it. good to go through this as early as possible to minimize the time you spend as a cringe weed enthusiast

i guess those are the only two.

ok to do infrequently (annually): "lsd" - or whatever it is, probably not lsd, blah blah blah, if it works and is sold on blotter its fine and won't make you go nuts or whatever. opt for a better psychadelic imo. see psych rule at bottom of section

mushrooms - better than acid since you know what they are. rule of thumb is to always do more than you think you want. minimum 1/8oz. see psych rule at bottom of post

dmt - if you somehow have a dmt hookup you don't need to be reading any of this. lasts 10 minutes which leads to tendency to way overdo it, don't do this, my favorite webcomic artist is permanently crazy from exactly that. using a crack pipe is also not the uhhhh most dignifying-feeling thing to do either. it's harder than you think.

mdma - for use at electronic music event or rave. overuse causes brain lesions or something.

coke - wait until you're in your 20s, have maxed out your roth IRA for a couple of years in a row, and havent missed a car payment in a similar timeframe. better still if you've worked a very shitty low paying job and know the value of a dollar. if you still find yourself buying candy you're not ready. too expensive to be worth it to get hooked on. know that you are VERY ANNOYING to anyone who also isn't high. don't fuck around with the guy selling it to you. avoid discussing or thinking about business ideas. you can't afford to make it a habit + kinda turns you into a piece of shit after a while, but at least a very interesting one

ketamine - another sick drug that rules, but save it for a special occasion. don't try and go into the k-hole your first time

rule for psychedelics - you get one good strong trip a year and that's it, make it count, always opt for doing a bit more than a bit less. but don't make it a habit, otherwise you turn into a very stupid very annoying "hippy" style cliché and believe in ghosts, aliens, crap like that.

ok to try once prescription opiates/benzodiazepine (xanax), valium, this kind of shit - worth trying so you can go "holy shit, this stuff is way way way too good to ever use responsibly" and then never do again. especially if you're white. for some reason we just can't handle this shit. if a doctor prescribes it to you, idk, that's your call to make.

ayhuasca - this is just dmt in a different form. do some other psychadelics a number of times before you do this. once you realize the whole "substantial visual hallucinations" thing is made up, its time. do exactly this: -buy root online (legal). receive box of dirt -boil dirt into "tea" (read erowid for exact recipe) -take over-the-counter anti nausea medicine or anything that will give you a stronger stomach -drink tea (its nasty as fuck, get it down quick) -have someone bigger than you keep an eye on you for the next five hours. -have the experience, which is absurdly intense, has no bearing to the real world, etc etc. don't be a bitch and throw up, if you do it'll only last an hour or so. again there is no way to provide a consistent description of the experience except that you will meet god. you only ever need to do this once and never again. trust me

peyote/salvia/etc - try em if you want, you'll never ever want to again afterwords. these are drugs for idiot teenagers too lame to get real drugs. imagine being very very sick from poison and utterly terrified at the same time. No good

whippets/nitrous oxide - just find a dentist that uses it and don't bother creating hundreds of pounds of trash on your floor for this crap that lasts ten seconds. you have to understand the extremely short timeframe coupled with the cost makes zero sense. go to a phish concert parking lot and do some people watching -- you do not want to be these people. only use is as a motivator to get routine dental exam. also if you somehow manage to make it a heavy habit your fucking legs stop working, no shit, but they start working again once you quit.

don't ever do heroin/meth/pcp - is is truly a mystery why you should never do these 🙄

synthetic weed/k2/shit from the gas station - it is so funny that they sell this as "weed that won't pop you on a drug test". its not weed. it is some dubious chemical sprayed on yard waste. smoke it to have a terrible time and go nuts. only buy drugs from legitimate drug dealers!

kratom - anyone's guess as to why this is legal but it's heroin for pussies. its still heroin

dxm/cough syrup - do you ever wonder why it is exclusively teenagers robotripping? it's because it sucks ass. is like a cheesegrater on your brain in terms of health effects with repeated usage. you're better than this king

inhalants - these are at the bottom of the list for a reason. do not huff gas. don't huff paint. do not consume computer duster. not fun + fastest way to make yourself a complete, uh, (word i can't say anymore) and then dead

not listed quaaludes- unavailable due to no longer being manufactured. these ruled apparantly

sincis2c - unavailable due to not existing, i just made this up

amphetamines - cannot provide objective take here. they're my albatross, lifelong (posted 4:55am natch)

#posts i will be deleting

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drdemonprince · 6 months ago

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I was talking to some relatives about our comparative sensitivities to substances. As a young person, I had the classic Autistic hyper-sensitivity to drugs. Two beers could knock me out. Anything past that was disgusting to me; at Ohio State I was constantly hiding half-drunk solo cups of Natty Light on bookshelves and in basements because I couldn't keep up with anyone else. I had no taste for weed or anything harder because I hated how tired it made me feel. At the same time, I always remained lucid on substances. I was always the person who could snap into practical, problem-solving thinking and put on a sober face if a member of my party got in trouble for pissing in the street or started fighting or ran afoul of the cops.

growing up, my friends were always trying to get fucked up so they could escape their brains and their realities, and then falling into huge problems because they'd done so. they'd get drunk and piss themselves. drive drunk home. fall in love with some dude on cocaine ten years older than them and then have to bust open a garage window with their fist when he was freaking out threatening himself. they'd blow out their caffeine receptors on weird drug store cold medicine and not be able to drink coffee for years. they'd drag themselves hung over to work or have to run a 5k still stoned. i didnt understand why they'd be so irrational. i was always the person sitting on the floor, a little tired but fine, watching them wrestle eachother drunkenly or cry when they'd started taking whatever drug it was to make themselves feel good. i didn't understand why someone would choose to weaken themselves and make themselves feel even worse. but nothing ever really felt good to me. i was just a flat line.

My sensitivity has changed thanks to testosterone, specifically because of muscle growth. I can throw back a number of drinks that startles me now, and feel almost nothing. A few months back a friend was being very generous with the boozy slushies at Sidetrack and the shots. I don't know how many I had. But more than I'd had to drink in many, many years at least. Which is probably still a small-seeming number to the real professionals, maybe something like 6 or 7 drinks total. But I felt completely fine, nothing past a little silly. I ate a taco on the curb, sipped some water, and then I was fine.

My sister is barely feels substances at all. She can't tell when pain medications work. In college, during a spat with a sorority "little" of hers who began to stalk her, she spent every afternoon at the bar downing shots from a shot-club list in exchange for a t-shirt, and it didn't affect her. She hates food and eats very little because of probably ARFID, but she will drink just about anything, and can do so in abundance if she wants to. But she rarely wants to, because it doesn't make her feel any more fucked up than a couple of cocktails. She smoked weed and took edibles sporadically for years without them ever kicking in or doing anything to her.

I am reminded of that story I read about the guy with really high social anxiety whom the CIA gave like ten tabs of acid, as part of some fucked up experiment, and he remained completely lucid, polite, present, and normal-seeming the entire time. Because he was just such a fucking tight-assed neurotic person that he couldn't let go of his iron-tight grip on reality. After his 12th acid tab, he got a little bit sleepy and went off to bed, or something like that. (If someone remembers this story and can find a link, send it to me!).

I don't know that I'd be the same, I've never tried, acid, but I imagine that it would play out something like that. I'd clench my firsts tight onto reality and keep masking as normal until I reached the absolute fucking brink of my ability to cope, and then I wouldn't enjoy the high, i'd just be so fucked up that I needed to go lie down. Mushrooms didn't affect me much, either.

I can't seem to escape my constant neurotic rumination and compulsive need to attend to the reactions of others and modulate myself. I wish I could let loose, but then again, when a person says they want one thing and they behave in a completely different way, trust the behavior. Clearly I don't want to lose control. I'm obsessed with maintaining my perspective. The one time I got properly zooted high at Nowadays in New York I nearly lost my phone, and I don't want to risk anything like that again. Anxiety is such a protective thing. we evolved to survive not to be happy. and all told i'm pretty good at keeping shit together, looking after myself, looking after others, and not fucking things up. my anxiety and rigidity has spared my ass a whole lot of problems, saved me a lot of money, helped my career, helped me escape arrest. i wish i could relax once in a fucking while but also i dont. im in love with what a tight ass sharp edged tense little bitch i can be. i dont know who the alternative version of me even would be. if i were to let properly loose and get sloppy it would feel like some abdication of duty, because I know that I *can* keep it together no matter what, and it seems so many people can't.

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littlemissmiller · 6 months ago

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𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑠

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐢𝐦

Pairing: drug dealer!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: (au) Your last summer before college and Coriolanus is still just as in love with you as the first time he saw you, but all of high school you’ve been taken. Meanwhile Coriolanus isn’t looking forward to college, but at least he can still make money dealing drugs. During the last week of school, he notices how fragile your relationship has become and something makes him think he still may have one last chance with you before the summer is over…

Warning: 21+ (mentions or drugs/ drug use) eventually smut, mentions of masturbation (m and f), mentions of oral (m and f receiving), jealously, slight obsession, possession, toxic relationship, slight stalking

Word count: 4k

A/N: hello all! my first series! soooo i’ve had this idea in mind for a while, but it felt like a summer write/read and i figured since a good amount of y’all are high school age or older this would appeal more and now that the school year is over i figured y’all have more time to read too. also i have another joel fic so that is coming soooon (closely followed by a billy fic) i’m so excited about this one like…i had so much fun writing it and i’m guesssing it’s gonna be like 12 chapters long…idk we shall see :) i hope you enjoy

Series Masterlist | Playlist

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Coriolanus is ready for the summer. He’s so sick of school, even though he excels at it. He barely has to study and usually did his homework last minute and still got all A’s. His grandma had encouraged him to go to college next year, even though school didn’t quite interest him anymore. He thought about joining ROTC once he got to campus, but truthfully, why would he give up his little side deal for some army pricks and a “free” ride to college when business was about to be booming.

In his sophomore year, Coriolanus had taken up dealing drugs. Mainly he stuck to weed or psychedelics like mushrooms or acid, and occasionally ecstasy. He didn’t dare sell hard shit and he always made sure his stuff was clean. He had help. From time to time, his friend, Sejanus, would steal from his mother’s medicine cabinet. Xanax, Valium, whatever Mrs. Plinth’s psychiatrist would prescribe, he would manage to steal a few whenever his mother decided not to take her meds that day. It was a system that worked well for Coriolanus, and a system that he would need to maintain. Which is why he decided to go to college only about an hour away from his town. Being from a small, rural town in Illinois didn’t leave Coriolanus many options except the big public school close to the city. A booming college town, where Coriolanus knew he’d be able to expand his “customers” and still manage to keep up his means of getting the drugs he sold.

Luckily enough for him, Sejanus was attending the same college as Coriolanus. Which meant “visits back home” were opportunities for Coriolanus to stock up on his stash and sell. He would be able to tag along with a homesick Sejanus frequently, or at least that’s what Coriolanus predicts given how nostalgic he has seemed to become in the last couple of months. It’s Sejanus’s new favorite hobby. Recalling old memories and moments from the past. Some of which Coriolanus didn’t even realize how much those mundane moments Sejanus’s brain clinged to. How much he cared about their hometown and especially his family. Coriolanus didn’t understand. It wasn’t like he was going halfway across the country, unlike you.

You were bound for California, had big dreams of becoming a cancer researcher for a children’s hospital, and absolutely over the moon to be going to Stanford. Coriolanus wasn’t as thrilled. He had long desired you, wanted you as his own, but since the first week of freshman year you had been so out of his grasp. Too distracted by someone on the football or basketball team, and by your sophomore year you had gotten with one of those football players, Devon. Coriolanus still saw you around however. You and him had shared every AP science course since sophomore year and you considered Coriolanus to be a school friend. That was all. Yet, all of the science classes you and him had spent together left plenty of room for you to chat about Devon. And for some reason you felt safe to talk to him about whenever he would do something to upset you. But you never left him.

So, Coriolanus had watched you from afar, longing to have you all to himself. As high school went on, you only grew more and more beautiful and Coriolanus would often imagine you laying bare before him on his bed. When he was home, he couldn’t help but jerk himself off to the image of you with your hand on your wet core, playing with your clit in between your fingers. That’s all he could picture as he pumped his length in the shower most nights. One hand against the wall the other stroking himself as he pictures you begging for him to fuck you. Your soft pleas tumbling from your beautiful lips like a prayer.

Why couldn’t he have you? Why did some himbo athlete have to have you when Coriolanus was clearly superior to him. He didn’t blame you though. Devon was popular, which made you popular by default and after being in a relationship for so long, he knew it wasn’t easy to just leave someone like that. If anything he blamed himself for not getting to you first. For not asking you out when he had the chance.

Not thinking you’d be interested, the one time Coriolanus had gotten an opportunity to ask you out was freshman year. It was after biology class right before winter break and Coriolanus wanted to take you to a movie. You were his lab partner that day and it’s all that was on his mind. When just the right moment arose, he first asked if you wanted to meet later that night to finish the lab so they would have less homework over break, but mainly to see if you were free to hang out. Coriolanus was quickly let down when you informed him that you would’ve liked to, but your family was going out of town to visit your grandparents for the holidays.

“I’ll just have to finish it when I get back from break.” You had sighed

And that was the only real time he’d had talked to you still single. What a pity given it was the last week of school now. Exams were nearly over and Coriolanus had told himself to give up on you, but he couldn’t seem to let you go. Even though it was the last week, and graduation was this weekend, he still desired you deeply. More than the day he met you. Coriolanus watched you in AP Literature as the class went over the study guide. You twirled your hair, bored and just as ready for the relaxing summer break as he was. He tried not to gawk, but he couldn’t help it. You looked so god damn precious today. Your green plaid skirt just barely followed the dress code and your white shirt was ruffled around the edges and fit your body nicely. Your black converse high tops dangled above the floor. All he wanted to do was take you into a bathroom stall, bend you over, bunch up your skirt and admire your ass. He bet it was soft and round. He imagined a pair of cotton, white panties under it all, soaked. His cock started to harden in his jeans, so Coriolanus moved in his seat to hide his stirring erection.

The bell rings about ten minutes later and thankfully he’s settled down enough to where his bulge isn’t quite so obvious. He snatches up his book bag and looks up. As the last few students file out, you are asking the teacher a few questions. Coriolanus gets up and heads for the door. As he passed you, you finish your conversation and quickly move to catch up to him.

“Hey!” You shouted

Coriolanus paused at the door, turning his head to look at you

“I know it’s exam week and you are busy, but this physics lab is going to be the death of me.”

Coriolanus couldn’t believe it. Were you about to ask for his help outside of class? You had always been going to him for help with your science classes. Even though you had managed to score higher than him on every exam in science, for some reason physics was killing you. So all semester, you had been asking Coriolanus for help during class, but only during class. You never asked to finish your work with him after school.

“Are you asking for my help?” He smiles

Personally, you don’t want to take away from his time since Coriolanus seemed like the type of man that valued his free time and didn’t like to bother with school outside of school. In addition, his mysterious, stern demeanor was intimidating and you didn’t know if you were bothering him while he was trying to make money. You knew he dealt drugs and frankly, the idea of that scared you too, so much as you need his help and your science classes and in all honesty, you were just afraid to ask him for anything at all.

But Coriolanus always assumed it was because of how protective Devon was. Which was also true. He didn’t like you talking to other guys outside of class, and he was particularly wary of Coriolanus. It was no secret that he was handsome. Coriolanus had built his own reputation as someone who slept around. And as much of a neanderthal as Devon was, he damn well knew that Coriolanus looked at you like you’re his prey.

“Yes” you sighed

“I don’t mind.”

“Really”

“Not at all. I’m free tonight.”

“Thank you so much. You have no idea, I’d seriously be lost without you.”

“Of course!” He chirped

“I appreciate it. Wanna meet up at Panera after school?”

“Sounds good.”

You smiled, waved and walked off

Fuckfuckfuck you said “lost without him.” That felt so personal. And your sweet smile. Why are you so perfect. Your hips sway as you walk away and Coriolanus’s cock starts to get hard again, until he see’s something that makes him want to repulse. Your boyfriend approached you from the other end of the hall. Devon came up to you,hugged you and groped your ass. What an obnoxious ass, can’t he tell you don’t like that kind of attention in school. He gave you a sleazy smile and Coriolanus turned his attention away.

After school, he headed to Panera as instructed and waited for you. You pulled up, your boyfriend dropping you off in his 2016 White Mercedes C-Class. You walk inside and find him sitting in the back.

“Hey. I’m going to order food. Did you get something?” You asked

“Nah I’m not all that hungry.”

“Okay!” You smile and walk to the counter to order.

You came back quickly, sat beside Coriolanus, putting your book bag between them. You pulled out you physics textbook, laptop and the lab. As you explained why you were confused, Coriolanus explained the material to you, but was so tempted again. So tempted by the way your knee peaked at him and when you crossed your legs, letting more of your thigh show, he nearly fell apart. He hated how desperate he was for you. How badly he wanted you. He’d do anything just to hear you instruct him to get on his knees and bury his face in between your thighs.

When your food came, he refocused his attention on your homework. Why couldn’t he control himself? Why was he so drawn to your temptations today? You always looked so beautiful, but Coriolanus felt feral.

“Ugh what am I going to do next year without you in my science classes!” You sighed

There you go again. Making everything sound personal and intimate. Clever as always, Coriolanus replied.

“Well good thing you have my number right?”

“Yeah, but we won’t be in the same class and I don’t want to bother you.”

“It’s not a bother” he follows up quickly

“You’re always so sweet. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime…” he smiles

Your phone buzzed, it’s Devon. You pick up and he seems annoyed. You tried to calm him down but somehow he figured out that you’re here studying with Coriolanus.

“You’re being ridiculous ok. Let’s just talk when we get back to my house…busy…with what?” You speak in a harsh whisper. “Ok whatever… just come back and drop me back home. Ok please?”

Coriolanus acted like he didn’t notice, but he watched in agony as tears welled up in your eyes. You took a deep breath, close your eyes, and swallowed your sadness along with the last sip of your Cola. Even though he should mind his own business, he couldn’t contain himself. He had to ask if you were ok. Besides, it's not like you don’t already confide in him during class anyways.

“It’s ok. I’ll be good.” You said, your lip quivering

You excuse yourself to refill your drink and Coriolanus packs up his things.

What a fucking insecure dick.

Coriolanus knew that you’re not the type to cheat. If anything Devon would cheat on you in a second. As protective as he was of you, he seemed to have a different set of rules for himself. Coriolanus saw Devon at parties, how’d he flirt with other girls when you weren’t around, or check out the cheerleaders at games. Yet you couldn’t have any real guy friends, and he truly couldn’t stand Coriolanus.

“You sure? I could give you a ride home since he seems…”

“No it’s fine…he’ll be here soon anyways. I appreciate your help.”

Your lip quivers slightly and you hide your face as you pretend to yawn. It’s something you’ve learned to help you to hide your tears and prevent you from falling apart into a big mess. But Coriolanus saw right through it because he had seen it before. He wanted to hold you, tell you to dump Devon and be with him instead. He would kiss you, to show you just how serious he was. He imagined delicately stroking your chin with his thumb and forefinger, guiding your face to his and kissing you deeply. He would be slow, tender, his lips simply ghosting over your own. He would still hold you daintily, his breath fanning over your face as he told you how much he loves you.

You look outside, turning away from Coriolanus, stifling your cries as a single tear rolls down your cheek. Coriolanus can’t help it; he has to say something.

“You know if you ever need someone to talk to I don’t mind. Sometimes it’s easier to tell someone you’re not as close with. Because then it’s like you’re speaking into a void and it doesn’t really matter what you say. But at least you got it off your chest.”

You pause for a moment and look back at him. You contemplate the offer and as much as you want to just talk his ear off about all the ways in which your boyfriend sucks, you’re afraid that he’ll just be more upset with you, thinking somehow he’ll find out.

“It’s ok. I’ll just vent to my mom when I get home.”

“You sure?” He asks, trying to hide his desperation

You reach out and touch his forearm gently. Your affections burn on his skin, your fingertips branding him.

“I’m sure. Thanks anyways.”

You release him, giving him a small smile. You feel like you should apologize and he simply smirks in approval, his eyes following your hand as it leaves him. Then your phone buzzes again. It lights up with a text from Devon and Coriolanus glances outside at the parking lot. He sees your boyfriend pull up, park, and exit his vehicle. For a moment he thinks your boyfriend is about to walk in, but he simply pouts against the car like a grumpy toddler.

“Good luck with your other exams. I know you’ll do fine.”

You walk off, quickly gather your things and walk out the door. He watches you leave and his eyes peer out the window. You trot along to Devon’s car innocently, scared like a newborn deer. He stares at you hawkishly, arms crossed. He shoves his body back into the car once you make it onto the other side, starting it up and you disappear behind the door as it closes. Coriolanus hangs his head in frustration and sighs. You didn’t deserve him.

You belong with him. You belong with Coriolanus.

He felt a tinge of unease thinking about it, not wanting to become as possessive and obsessive as Devon, but he really meant it. He felt he would know how to treat you like a queen. Give you lots of nice things or if you needed cash to buy something you wanted, he’d give it to you. Sell more weed and Xanax to get you whatever you want. But if he could have you, hold you, treat you right, and tell you how much he loves you, he felt like you would want it just as much as he did.

When he gets home, Coriolanus heads up to his room. His cousin and grandma were out shopping for their dresses to wear to his graduation. Coriolanus had picked out a nice pair of black slacks, and a white button up. He wasn’t one for ties normally, and given the heat, he didn’t want to feel too constrained. It was hanging up in his closet, facing him as he enters his room, along with his cap and gown. He sits down at his desk, placing his book bag down and getting his laptop out. He decides to check his grades one last time even though he already knows what it will say. He logs on to his school's website.

Coriolanus C. Snow

Student ID: 1008452024

Current Standing: Senior (Academic Honors)

Current GPA: 4.0

Accumulative GPA: 4.3

Spring Semester 2024

AP Physics A

AP Literature A

European History A

AP Calculus A

Political Science A

Latin Studies A

The corners of his mouth slid up into a half smile. He was of course not upset with himself, but knew that school was the only thing he was really good at, but completely hated. He was still going to go to college, just to get a degree of anything and why would he miss out on the opportunity to sell to his target market. Even though he hated school, and was dragging his feet to go to college, Coriolanus had bigger ambitions. He thought that even if it meant four more years of school and lectures, getting a degree might lead him towards a better career. Coriolanus often heard of people getting into politics and getting intern jobs working for Senators and Representatives. It was truly the only thing that appealed to him. Even though he excelled in nearly every course, politics and civics seemed to have taken over his attention more than his other subjects. And his teachers noted how he seemed to have more interest in those classes versus science or math. So he thought that maybe college could offer an opportunity for him to get him to a place of power, which not even he realizes how much he desires that kind of control.

Then his phone vibrates, taking him off guard and away from his thoughts. It’s you. He immediately picks it up. He can sense your emotions through the phone and the immediate sniffle you give him, confirms his suspicions.

“Hey what’s up?”

“Oh I just had a quick question on this lab I realized I left the last question blank. Do you think we could FaceTime real quick?” You ask tentatively

“Sure.”

You transfer the call to FaceTime him and he picks up. He put the phone against the wall and your beautiful face appears. It’s slightly blurry because of the connection, but Coriolanus can still make out your beautiful features although they are covered by your clearly upset face. You had been crying, hard, your eyes slightly red and puffy.

“So what’s up” Coriolanus continues quickly

“Yeah so it's talking about how I’m supposed to connect my parts of the equation to the students equation in the problem but also explain the reasoning for why part b) works with part a) and show mathematical reasoning.”

Coriolanus smiles and begins to break down the problem in the lab and you start to frantically scribble down on your page, occasionally glancing up showing that you understand and are following along. All the while, he’s just as focused on your beautiful, round eyes, as they concentrate on his words. He tries desperately not to picture those same pretty eyes looking up at him, you on your knees, naked and sucking his cock. He knows that your eyes would look just as attractive and engaged by him. He shakes his head to refocus, but he’s hard under his desk. Luckily it’s just a video call, because his bulge is ever so apparent. Once Coriolanus finishes explaining it, you smile and sigh in relief.

“That makes sense. Thanks Coriolanus…”

“See, next semester I can still help you like this, you know.”

“I guess you’re right” you smile back “is that your bed?” You ask, pointing behind him.

“Yeah.” He confirms, turning around to look at it.

“I like the comforter. Your room looks cool by the way” you follow up

His bed sheets are navy blue plaid with red and white stripes in a grid style pattern. He looks around his room and admires his decor. Coriolanus occupies a room on the top floor. It wasn’t quite cramped like an attic, but it was close to the roof. It was cozy, with a slanted wall. The back wall was uncovered brick, with a wood ceiling. Coriolanus had put a few of his favorite band posters up as well as some vinyl covers. He tried to keep things simple with his bed against one wall and his desk against the other. He had a laptop that sat on his desk and a TV that screwed onto the wall above his desk, which he easily fit his PS4 under.

“Maybe you should come see it in person sometime” he suggests, not realizing what he has said.

When he does, he mentally kicks himself for being so forward, and your eyes dart down to the ground in your own room.

You stupid ass.

As he curses himself, you glance back up with a smile

“Hopefully I can see it at your graduation party. Assuming you're having one?” You follow up

“Possibly. I wasn’t sure, but my family wants to throw me one. What about you?” He asks

“Oh yeah I’m sending invitations out to the whole grade. We are having it at our country club, me and Devon. It's kinda a combination party I guess.” You explain

“Oh fun”

“It’s gonna be at the end of June so when you get the invite, let me know. You can text me and I’ll tell my dad.”

“Yeah sure. Well I won’t keep ya any longer.” Coriolanus nods, his lips sporting the most charming smile and you match his expression.

“Ok well, if I don’t see you much at school then I’ll see you this weekend at graduation?” You imply, unsure if he would even bother going since he almost never attended non-mandatory school events.

“Yeah, I’ll see you there for sure”

“Hey just real quick, earlier today with Devon, it’s just he gets a bad temper and makes assumptions”

Coriolanus nods, not wanting to scare you off, but he’s invested in having you tell him what more upsets you.

“I’m sorry, that sounds frustrating.”

“Well I guess you’ve always been there to listen so I just wanna say thanks for all these times. You know it’s funny though we get into these fights and I talk to you and feel better then he goes back to normal, well at least for a while then he gets back into his ways, so I’m just hoping he’ll mature more in college. Stop acting like a toddler sometimes” you smirk

Oh you poor thing, you don’t even realize how bad he truly is. You don’t even realize you're stuck in his toxic cycle. Coriolanus wishes he could swoop in and take you away. Treat you better. Coriolanus gives you a sympathetic smile and continues to show he’s listening to you. After a few silent moments, you say goodbye and hang up. Coriolanus feels like he can breathe again. You overwhelm him to a degree he didn’t even think was possible. Which he feels it between his legs, his cock is still rock hard.

Fuck you get him so worked up it’s unbelievable. He knows he’ll have to handle his member in the shower before dinner, but for now he smiles to himself. Coriolanus leans his chair back, mouth agape as he sighs at the ceiling. Maybe he could have a chance with you after all. He doesn’t want to get too hopeful, but something tells him he might just be able to get his chance with you before the summer ends.

꧁🝮❤︎︎🝮꧂

Next Chapter

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #fan fiction #tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #tom blyth characters #tom blyth #tom blyth fanfiction #smut #smut fanfiction #hunger games smut

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ask-nevadas · 5 months ago

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out of curiosity, do you ever take any drugs of some form outside of smoking cigarettes and drinking? weed, mushrooms, acid, like anything im just curious

"It's Las Nevadas. I'm on a little bit of everything. All of those. Prefer skulk cigs and basic drinks though..."

*he enjoys acid but very rarely. He likes being in more control of his body. Certain junkies outside the city walls enjoy much harder things.*

#quackityaskblog #dsmpblr #dsmp quackity #las nevadas #nevadasanswers #dsmp ask blog #asknevadas #quackity

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ryley-robinson · 1 month ago

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Testing the waters here with a piece of writing. The rest is under the cut.

From Ry's perspective, it's based on how I mentioned that I think he'd describe his job and survival with the same tired frustration. (though I headcanon he wishes he had stayed on 4546b)

Hope you enjoy, I'm a bit shy about my writing. ^^;

---

I’m standing outside the cafeteria, waiting for the inevitable moment that somebody breaks the coffee machine. Again. For the third time this week. I make a mental note to check the date, because it feels like I’ve been on this ship for an eternity.

... I’m inside my base, dozens of meters under a dangerous sea, waiting for the inevitable moment the sun goes down, for the nightmares to start, and for the sleep that never comes. For the third time this week. Or this month. I’ve lost count.

---

I’m shuffling my feet along a sterile, cold floor as a passenger eyes me with disdain, because I’m taking too long to clean out the trash disposal. And I’m not saying enough, I never am. It doesn’t matter, I’ll be out of their temporary space soon and they’ll probably forget I exist.

... The roars are deafening. I’m swimming for my life, trying to escape an alien creature rubbing its massive pincers against my artificial flippers. I don’t know if it’s hungry or actually upset but that doesn’t matter. Maybe someday I’ll be out of its space and it can happily forget I ever existed.

---

I’m lounging underneath a bunk, wide awake in my shared cabin. There are no windows, there’s barely any light, and the soft snores of other crew members and the distant thrum of the Aurora’s core drive are keeping me up. I can’t be bothered to check the time, I know it’s late enough that I should be asleep.

Waking up is going to be a chore and I know that’s entirely my fault.

... I’m sitting on the edge of a fabricated bed, that is clearly not made for comfort. The reinforced window to my base’s primary room is showing me a world beyond my understanding.

The eyes of Peepers blink at me curiously and the bio-luminescence from the Acid Mushrooms and Writhing Weeds is the only light keeping me company. I turned any man-made lights off hours ago.

I don’t bother to check the time; days here are short and if I keep checking, I’ll go insane. I know it’s late and I should sleep to conserve my energy. I don’t even know if I’ll wake up and I don’t know who or what is at fault.

---

I’m walking back to my desk in a hurry. My heart is racing after a confrontation with a higher ranking crew member. I slam the door to the sorry excuse for a workplace shut, not caring who hears, and throw myself in the chair behind the metal table. I stop to catch my breath.

I enjoy a whole twenty seconds of silence before my PDA blares to life and I’m ordered to another deck entirely to fix a broken lock. I tap the confirmation that I’ve received the message; it’s not like I can give them a ‘real’ yes.

... The journey back to my base is tense and wrought with fear. My heart is about to pound itself out of my heaving chest after a narrow escape from a Crabsquid. All I remember is wrenching open the airlock and throwing myself behind the controls, knowing I was moments away from being devoured.

I can’t even catch my breath. I’m too occupied navigating around the gigantic, mushroom-like flora around me. Nobody can hear the hissing of air through my gritted teeth.

I can’t enjoy the silence, even if it means nothing else is going to attack me. My PDA gives me a nonchalant notice about smoke inhalation and I realise my Seamoth is sparking. I can’t signify I got the automated warning, my shaking hands are white knuckled around the steering controls.

---

I cut myself on a piece of rusted metal while cleaning out an airlock. The mesh from the bandages is making my hand crawl and itch and all I want to do is rip off the protective covering and claw at my skin. I know better though and I remind myself there’s work to be done.

I know that with only one functional hand, it’s going to be a long day.

... I caught my ankle on a piece of limestone while trying to find copper. The jagged gash is making my skin crawl and I know all I need to do is get back to my base before something smells the blood. I know better than to stay near the Stalkers and I remind myself a day of no progress is better than death.

I know that if I don’t clean the injury, I probably won’t have a foot afterwards.

---

I feel awful. I’m trying to focus through a headache, brought on by lack of sleep. I was overthinking again. I fumble with the repair tool in my hand, dropping it, the clattering across the metal floor only making things worse. I stop and rub my hands against my forehead.

Steeling myself and retrieving the tool, I quickly resume my work before anyone can accuse me of slacking off.

... I feel like I’m dying. I’m struggling to survive a horrifying illness, brought on by simply touching the water of this infected planet. I’m coughing and wheezing again, brought on by what I now know as the Kharaa. The heaving is only making everything worse. I can’t stop, I curl further around myself, shivering.

I can’t steel myself, I can’t resume the work that needs to be done on the base, on the Cyclops, on the growbeds-

The coughing resumes before I can continue spiralling.

---

The cure. Enzyme 42. It’s right in front of me. I reach out and touch it. It’s strange globules of gold fluid and I realise it’s going to save my life. The newborn Sea Emperors are free, free under the shadow of their dying mother. My heart feels like it’s going to break. It’s being torn apart in two directions.

But I have to keep going. I have to keep fighting and I have to get home because if not, her sacrifice will mean nothing.

I did my part on her behalf and that’s good enough.

#ryley robinson #subnautica #alex.wrt

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paper-mario-wiki · 1 year ago

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I love your trollsona. I’ve been wanting to make one of my own but I’ve been having trouble coming up with ideas and such. Any tips?

what i did with kippyr was think about how i am as a person, and then translating that into a trollsona.

i love to collect things and i love to try new things. ive got a weird esoteric collection of contemporary artifacts from the past 40 years or so and i LOVE looking for more. plus i love learning firsthand about different pieces of life that i otherwise wouldnt, just for kicks. and i dont mean like white water rafting, i mean like one time i went out of my way to find myself a molly plug even though i have 0 intent of ever trying molly or acid or mushrooms and i can legally purchase weed. its just about enjoying the experience of life by learning about its many optional side quests.

then, translate that hobby into an obsession. the trolls and kids are all not well. theyve all got insane and cartoonish traits, usually driven by some kinda neurosis, but thats just because the world they live in is equally crazy. so i translated my love for collection and experience (and also my love of anthropology) into a weapon, and rock paper scissors works too well not to use!

also, like. dont worry about it not being super cool. as it turns out, homestuck as a whole is kinda dumb, so just have fun with it!

#the man with no face

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painted-bees · 2 years ago

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Ocean spray mdma makes me want to know more about the kind of drugs the cortes trio have tried. Are there any they like in particular?

Lmao okee w-well. Firstly, they are musicians living off the coast of B.C, so...yanno...weed. Both Magritte and Raf, at least lmao but not Cortes. Cortes's first experience with pot was drinking bong water and she has decided from that experience alone that she's not a fan.

For Magritte, pot and alcohol are about all she's dared to partake in. She's worried that she's prone to addictions and that has kept her away from almost everything else. WAIT-caffeine is her #1 vice. Caffeine in fucking everything. She'd probably get headaches if she ever went a day without--but she wouldn't know because she -doesn't- go a day without. One of these days, someone is gonna introduce Margie to Adderall and it's gonna make Raf uncomfy but it'll change her whole life lmaaooo of only because it might FINALLY convince her to seek out an ADHD diagnosis 😭 girl...

If Raf was much less responsible than he is, he'd probably smoke weed as much as Magritte drinks coffee, but alas--he has shit to keep together. However, that sense of responsibility is kinda what brought him into a bit of an amphetamine problem during his time in university. Too much shit to keep together, not enough time, energy, know-how, an enormous amount of overwhelm and his entire sense of identity and wellbeing on the line...amphetamines helped with that. Sorta....and then they didn't. He stopped some time after graduating, prolly around the same time he just decided to try giving up on the whole music thing. He was compelled to come back to music before too long, but not to the stimulants, hah. He's probably tried some other things, acid, mdma, mushrooms--didn't really identify with any of 'em, didn't hate them, but hasn't felt terribley compelled to try them again. Juuust before Magritte rooted herself as a permanent fixture in his life, he was probably starting to fall into a bit of a habit with sleeping pills, but not anymore.

As for Cortes...you know...all I can think of is

#cortes #Hi-Note #rafael #magritte

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ghostismybbygorl · 2 years ago

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Its 4/20 you know what that meaaaaans

420 headcannons

Nsfw

Warnings: Drug use (duh)

Lets get started

Ghost

This man is a STONER. He smokes weed all day everyday

He likes to dabble into mushrooms as well though he has to be in the right headspace to do it.

He likes to go on camping trips and trip on mushrooms while hes doing the hike in and relaxing listening to the nature and watching the trees move as he lays in a hammock

He prefers hybrid strand of weeds since it balances him out and calms him down.

He keeps a cbd pen on him and uses it after a tough mission or if he really needs to focus

He hates edibles with a passion. He took one of soaps brownies thinking it was a normal brownie and was sprawled out on the couch unable to move completely greened out

He uses a bong or pre rolled joints (gaz rolls them for him

MUNCHIES GALLORE

He has a trio; something sweet, something salty, and chocolate

You can catch him at 3am devouring leftovers, soaps snack stash, anything edible hell eat

This is the grinder and bong he likes to use

Soap

Doesnt smoke as much as ghost and gaz but he does it every other week

He likes sativa because it helps him focus but also puts him in a good mood

BIG ACID TAKER.

He'll trip on acid when he goes to a rave or music festival

When he goes on excursions with ghost to partake in psychedelics he'll drop a tab

He's done all the psychedelic drugs but prefers acid and shrooms the most

Hes a big edible eater he makes THE BEST pot brownies just a perfect amount to where you get high but not green out (only that one time he made them extra strong for him and gaz (ghost stole some and made him green out))

He prefers to smoke joints and edibles

Price

Not a big weed guy but he takes cbd gummies to keep his stress levels down

Accidentally ate soaps pot brownies and sat on the couch staring at the tv while gaz had to babysit him (they put on those child stimming videos to keep him chill)

Used to do coke like crazy in his 20's but stopped when he realized how bad it was affecting his life style

Surprisingly he'll join a smoke session with the kids and just vibe out telling war stories to them

Big joint smoker and gummie taker

He likes hybrid and indicia; the man really just wants ti veg out and not worry about anything

Gaz

Certified babysitter

He's in charge of the snacks and taking care of everyone when theyre high

He smokes pretty much every day and keeps a dap pen on him at all times

Introduced price to cbd gummies

He doesnt like psychedelics at all he tried doing shrooms with ghost and ended up having a bad trip

"Ghost, the purple men are following us"

He likes usuing different strands depending on the day hes having

If he's tired and needs a little boost he'll do some sativa but if he just wants to chill and veg out he'll do indicia

Learned very early on to not mix strands in one day. He ended up greening out and had to be babysat by his friends and keep him calm

JOINT ROLLER SUPREME

This man can roll the most perfect joints in the world

He usually smokes with ghost if he wants to be social with someone

Their smoke sessions are the best. They like to share a blunt watch some bluey and eat ghosts munchie combos

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understanding-hold-on · 7 months ago

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my new silly crossover headcanon for hollow knight is that actually, the entire game happens at the time of nuclear winter.

the bugs just fucking mutated and became sentient. the pale wyrm is just especially irradiated big wyrm which triggered mutations in a whole bunch of bugs around the place.

the acid in some places comes from the acid rains, while green path is just a bunch of weeds and moss that adapted to become more resilient but haven't reached the toxic surface yet. the same with mushrooms.

the abyss is like. oil or smth idk.

this does not do anything for both games thematically, i just think it is very cool. or maybe it does.

#let's just talk about the souls and dreams and nightmare realms #fallout #hollow knight

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drdemonprince · 1 year ago

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could you tell us about your experience with mushrooms? I've tried it many times, and I feel like it hasn't changed anything for me (though i had no expectations), but maybe i was "doing it wrong"

I posted about it a couple weeks back, so you can scroll thru for that, but it didn't do much for me. I felt high like I was on weed, I danced in a warehouse for a while, which was as pleasant as it always is substances or no, I went outside and the grass and leaves were shimmering, my friend drove me in their car and we listened to Bjork and it was very pretty and moving to watch the sunlight glisten on the skyscrapers and the lake, I felt a sense of peace and certainty in living here being an immense gift that I should cement by establishing more permanent roots here, housing wise, and then we went to the beach to watch a drag show and i drank a bubble tea and felt relaxed and good. later in the evening, mostly sober watching children's dog movies of the 90s like All Dogs Go to Heaven, I got kind of emotional. but nothing beyond my normal range of possible feeling. i was depressed the next day, sad like a forlorn child in a manageable way. i was irritable and pissy the next few days, desperately craving my own space and quiet, which used to happen a few years ago when i was in a worse living situation and place in my life. it felt like backsliding. i was annoyed that i felt that way. it stayed like that for a few days. now a couple weeks later im basically the same, but a little more resolute about some changes that i want to make. i feel like a serious adult man. if anything it just got me to where i was mentally heading a little bit faster.

sometimes the shrooms have something to teach you, my friend blair says, and sometimes they don't. while i was high in the car listening to bjork, i turned inward and asked the mushrooms, "hey guys, whats going on? what do i need to know, if anything?" and they said to me (im speaking metaphorically here) "you already know exactly what is going on in your life. you know what you're good at and what you want, and you know what has been persistently making you upset. youve made certain decisions about how to navigate the difficult things in your life, and you have an accurate gauge of what the costs of that are. not much else to say. you know what's going on." and i was like "bet." i didn't hallucinate, i had no big revelations, and i probably wouldnt do it again for a very long time because the come down sucked for me.

people overhype what substances can do for you, a lot of the time. it's just a tool. it can be fun. it can give you diarrhea. it can make you cry, and maybe that's good. it's not a solution to your problems it's just another problem but some problems are worth it in your own risk cost calculus etc.

and i find that many autistic people just aren't all that impacted by substances like allistics are. we're so reflexive at masking that our impulse may be to maintain composure and level headedness at all times. i was pretty sober after anesthesia too. i often wish that substances would give me some grand feeling of release, but once the drug hits my system all i want is to remain in control, as i always do. there's an infamous story about a guy who the CIA tested acid tabs on, who didn't hallucinate or act funny after like 30 consecutive doses. he just seemed normal. it turned out he was at baseline absolutely consumed with debilitating anxiety. so being super fucking high just gave him something to direct his hyperanalytical system's attention to. i hope someone reading this will remember this account and provide a link, im not being super precise. but. there's something about that experience that i relate to. ive never been out of control on any substance. i always seem pretty lucid, maybe a little sillier or more tired but even those things feel like a choice.

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fungalittleweirdo · 9 months ago

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Villain Rise Mikey Thoughts: Part Two

a continuation of my first villain mikey post ! this is where it gets more m-rated (using archive ratings) so i'm thinking people 17+ can proceed reading, if you're sixteen about to turn seventeen that's fine too but anyone below that, please do not read !!

cw: graphic depictions of violence, drugs, addiction

i left off on fifteen year old mikey discovering a love for baking edibles

it started off small but eventually he started growing his own green and selling in the hidden city

he made connections and they started helping him out– he was a small business owner, keeping his head down, until he crosses paths with a yokai who knows certain recipes for a higher selection of products (if you know my ccc au ocs, prion, a manticore yokai, and carmine, the daughter of boss bruce from the masters of barbarianism, are part of mikey's hidden city inner circle)

mikey agrees to learning the recipes because the money is coming in quickly and he doesn't even have to steal anymore

draxum catches on to what mikey's doing and he's skeptical about it– how will this help with destroying the humans ?

mikey may dislike humans, but he doesn't necessarily want to destroy them.

subduing them sounds more like his style.

draxum's like "oh ! carry on then son !" (he's such a proud dad)

big mama catches on to mikey's operation and how it's taking away from her own criminal empire's revenue, so he's seen as a competitor.

he had picked up on newer recipes, better than with mere mystic weed, he cooks with mystic mushrooms (his mushroom tarts are BOMB) and makes synthetic substances (i.e. acid, mdma, amphetamine) separately.

after big mama tries to sic the hidden city police on mikey, he moves back up to the surface after conferring with his inner circle that they could take care of things without big mama getting in the way

he moves back to brooklyn and does what he always did, tagging buildings, stealing, killing– but that brought media attention.

as much as villain mikey loves to have fun, he goes on to start business topside, stopping his usual criminal activity.

after using his mystic powers sparingly for a while so that he could heal post krang, he makes portals for deliveries from the hidden city, then he starts baking.

he finally kidnaps a few humans to keep as pets, using them to test doses rather than dote on them like they're pets (they're essentially "lab rats", but he doesn't like the fact that donnie would dub them that, so pets it is).

his edibles are considerably smaller for humans, but costly for good reason.

he opens a mutant friendly bakery/cafe establishment as a front, hiring meat sweats as the head chef because he's been a pain in his brother's asses for years.

mikey hires other mutants and a human to work the cafe.

he doesn't really like the thought of them in charge of selling his goods, even if it's just regular food and drink (the mutants and a human employee are also ccc au ocs of mine, ziva, oscar, and miwa kutsuki)

after mikey is done testing all the products on his pets, he goes back to the hidden city with them, giving them to draxum for him to mutate.

he watches the process for the first time, watching how their bones snap and twist, the blood they cough out as they claw and grip at each other in the vat of empyrean they're thrown in.

that's when mikey realises... draxum put his brothers through that. put him through that.

he was a mere hatchling.

he realised his father isn't as good as he thought he was, therefore going mystic on him for a good reason.

draxum can't talk mikey down from it this time, it's only when he accidentally opens a portal in front of raph that the "red angel of preventing harm" busts in with his ninpo and hugs mikey tightly, whispering in his ear that he's safe and he doesn't have to hurt anyone.

mikey suddenly remembers what he did to raph when they were little and stops, the chains burning and choking draxum loosening and fading as he collapses back on the ground of his lab.

"i... i don't want to hurt my family."

after that ordeal, twenty year old mikey leaves the country, making a portal all the way to south america where he finds another hidden city to hide away in.

he loses his boredom motive to wreak havoc, deciding to start honest work there for a while until some yokai approaches him with a plant he's never seen before in new york's hidden city.

he starts growing it with him and they start a business together.

mikey learns how to make flour out of this plant and bakes edibles with hallucinogenic effects, just like his mushroom tarts.

after a while, mikey brings this plant back to the states and starts selling, revenue growing exponentially on the east coast.

he finds out meat sweats completely took over his bakery/cafe, renaming it and stealing millions from him.

meat sweats also fired everyone, since ziva stole food from her job because she couldn't eat and afford her apartment, oscar wasn't focused on his tasks, and miwa turned out to be an undercover agent from japan.

luckily, rupert swaggart only knew the weed recipe, otherwise mikey would have been cooked.

he had been meaning to cut off his weed supply anyway, especially since he found the flower down in south america.

mikey moves out of brooklyn to have an apartment in tribeca, manhattan, closer to where his new business could be.

he opens a new bakery/cafe in the financial district, it attracts all the upper class businessmen with fixed lifestyles.

and for whoever knows the business is a front, it also attracts the substance addicts looking for something better.

mikey gets rich quickly, but he keeps his studio apartment in tribeca, buying out the whole building instead of renting.

he installs his own greenhouse at the top after the city grants him permission, which alerts his brothers of his location.

he dismantles it and decides to rent all around manhattan, an apartment in each district.

mikey housed homeless mutants in his extra apartments, but his hospitality ran very thin.

the only rules were not to trash the place and to cover for him if anyone comes up to the door and asks for him.

villain mikey grows extra paranoid in his twenties, he feels as though everyone is out to get him, even his regular clients.

he bakes as a stress reliever, manages his bakery/café under an alias.

sometimes he works at the till with a cloaking brooch after long periods of isolation, just to interact with people.

after all the years he's been ingesting mystic weed, he hadn't tried anything else, knowing it could affect him as a business owner.

then after a depressive episode, twenty three year old mikey tries his trademarked mdma.

he joins the rave scene and makes connections there, as well as getting a few new willing pets to try his south american mystic baked goods so his demographic expands.

carmine comes up topside, telling mikey she needs him back in the hidden city.

so mikey returns and finds that prion, his right hand yokai, died from an overdose of mystic opioids, which he thought was bullshit because prion swore he would never touch the crap.

he knew that big mama was behind prion's death and decided to set fire to her auction houses, her third biggest revenue source.

he dipped into mania, selling full sized mystic pastries to whoever asked.

it's been years since mikey talked to his dad.

draxum was converted to his brothers' side and no longer resided in the hidden city.

he used to take pride in who his father was, now looking at him made him ill.

it was time boss bruce made his successor the donna of the masters of barbarianism, proving her worth by managing mikey's drug operation well in the hidden city for a decade.

carmine was allowed a few months before her induction, so mikey decided to bring her up topside.

being a tall dragon lady, she's bound to turn heads, so she wore a cloaking brooch whenever she went out with mikey.

mikey started coming down from mania and carmine was there for all of it, helping him get clean and caring for him when he was crashing.

he always really liked carmine, but everything had to be kept professional, right ? right ?

carmine had to return from her surface vacation to follow in her father's footsteps, and mikey was left alone again to manage everything.

he's sober for the most part, mystic weed still keeps him calm so he doesn't get aggressive.

by the time he reaches his late twenties, villain mikey gets bored again.

what – or rather who – will satisfy him ?

#rottmnt writing #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise mikey #rise michelangelo #villain rise mikey au #ramble #jules' thoughts #angst #kinda messy #kinda depressing #oopsie

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mywitchcultblr · 2 months ago

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I wonder if Halsin ever smoke weed or take drugs when he is a bear, would he become chill or act like an enraged grizzly? I wonder if he ever ate magic mushroom as a bear? What'll a bear sees when acid tripping? Does he ever catches salmon with his mouth?

#halsin #bg3

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arl3kinka · 9 months ago

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Hello :D do you have any p1 Dude headcanons?

hi hi.

oh boy, I thought I had a few, but after I sat down to write them just realized I might have a bit too much more than what I’ve expected, haha.

POSTAL 1 DUDE; headcanons

first of all! some headcanons make reference of how he was before the first game, so trying to apply them to the guy who’s terrified, sitting on the floor while hugging his gun would be pretty useless

also, if instead of a hyphen there’s a star it’s to address DID in Dude (I don’t have DID myself and I’m not close to somebody who has DID, all I know is from research I’ve done myself, so if there’s something wrong please tell me.

if you’re not into the DID idea just ignore the stars.

anyway, here we go:

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

— Before what happened in 1997 I think he was still a disaster, but a bit more functional.

I’m not gonna dig a lot into how he was while growing up, but he’s an only child that comes from a christian yet dysfunctional family, so after he finally had enough saved money and the legal age he moved to another city (not Paradise) to start again and never looked back, probably with a bit of help coming from Uncle Dave, the only family member that cared about him.

★ P2’s been with him since he was a kid/pre-teen. P1 doesn’t really knows who or what P2 is and at first is pretty much afraid, thinking he’s a demon of some kind. But after a while and seeing how he stands up for him (when he’s unable to defend himself, make friends, etc) and he’s not really trying to harm him he relaxes for a bit.

— He’s always been pretty much a loner, but not to the point to isolate himself completely. He had a tiny group of friends who were also as “weird” as he was who were also into the alternative/goth subculture. Those were probably the best years of his life.

But still, following the last point, I also think he’s one of those people that when they feel bad they isolate themselves for some time and then come back like nothing happened. It usually worked, until it didn’t.

— I have no idea of where I readed I don’t know if it was the Wiki, TV Tropes, in a reddit comment or somewhere else but I think that during the development of “Postal” the Postal Dude was around 27 years old. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’ll go with that.

And, to add some more flavor, I don’t remember if it was Tumblr or Reddit, but somebody had the headcanon that the 14 of November, the day the first game begins, it’s also the Postal Dude’s birthday.

I can’t remember who had such a good idea but I love it way too much, I love angst with all my heart so now it’s my headcanon too.

(if I see the original headcanon again I’ll give credits to the person)

— [ tw // mentions of drugs ] Definitely smokes both cigarettes and weed, but the last one just from time to time. Has tried acid or mushrooms but rather stick to weed.

He hasn’t done crack or anything too heavy, not before 1997.

— He has little to no idea of how to cook. He can do some basic stuff to survive, and he has tried following a recipe in the past, but it’s definitely not his best . Not like he enjoys it either.

— His body: pretty tall. He has a bit of a complex with his height, finding clothes of his size can be complicated and it’s a bit awkward too.

His body is a bit built (he does some work out because of the idea that somebody can attack him at any moment is enough to make him try to learn some self defense alone in his room). Compared to P2 he's has more corporal mass, but not as much as P3 would have. He's an in between. Not skinny but not fat either.

He’s also pretty pale. Not because he can’t get tanned or anything, but because he would rather go out when the sun is already setting or during night or, in general, prefers to stay at his house.

In general he’s one of those people you see on the street and catch your attention: it’s not always that you see a really tall guy with long ginger hair.

— He doesn’t cut his hair because he likes how it looks on him but also because he’s too lazy (and anxious) to go to a hairdresser. He sometimes cuts it himself, and since he has no idea there have been times it ends up disastrous, but since I think his hair is a bit wavy it doesn’t look really bad.

He also doesn’t maintains it really well, he only uses shampoo and, maybe, one of those 3 in one bottles and that’s all. If it’s really cold he dries it with the hairdryer, but rarely does so.

— His handwriting is HORRIBLE. Not like if it’s like hieroglyphics, you can read it, but it’s just really ugly (the diary/war journal entries is how he writes, but since he was pretty stressed and scared it’s a bit more agitated). Also makes too much pressure, not to the point of ripping of the paper but you can feel it on the other face of the sheet surface if you brush it with your hand.

Likes to write for himself, it’s therapeutic and the best way to cope, the less harmful to himself too.

— Following the last point he also likes to make some doodles, especially when bored. Nothing too serious though, the typical thing you do when you’re in class bored and you only have a pen in hand and a paper. You’ll see plenty of them that decorate his notes and diaries. They’re a bit chaotic, his traces being a bit messy.

— If he was accepted in RWS he might have some knowledge about the videogame industry or related. Not sure of what, probably graduated in some studies about it. Maybe a programmer? I dunno.

— Definitely neurodivergent. Either autistic or ADHD. Or both.

His main interests being weapons, movies and videogames. Predilect genres? Terror and horror. He’s not much of a reader though.

On a side note, easily overwhelmed with people he’s not close with touching him (or in general, he’s not opposed to it but would rather if the other person asked for permission) and large crowds, and the main reason he wears he started wearing sunglasses it’s because sensitivity to bright lights.

Still, he’s undiagnosed so he has no clue why he’s like that and why can’t he be normal, sometimes thinking he’s a bit dramatic. His group of friends also had other neurodivergent people who he could rely on so he didn’t feel that bad after all.

— He hated going to clubs for that same reason, even the more alt ones. Too much noise and people. He probably went there because of his friends and enjoyed it for a little while, but would’ve rather been doing anything else.

★ P2 liked it more than him, so when they made plans with their friends he was the one who was in control most part of the time.

— He’s the kind of person that I think would listen to pretty much everything, but definitely his favorite genre is hard rock and metal and its sub-genres: goth metal, black metal, grunge, industrial, you name it. Maybe nu metal it’s not really his thing.

Still, he jams pretty much everything so you could catch him singing a Spicegirls song and he would deny it with his life.

★ It’s in fact P2 who prefers nu metal and wouldn’t care what he’s listening to. Would probably tease P1 about it though.

P2: “You’re listening to Madonna? I thought you didn’t liked pop”

P1: “...shut it”

p2: “Whatever you say edgelord… "LIKE A VIRGIN JUST, LIKE THE VERY FIRST TIME- ♪"”

— He’s bisexual, but still in the closet and pretty deep in there. He has done a few things with other guys but nothing too serious or further than making out probably. Partly because he has some internalized homophobia from the family he comes from (in himself! would never judge or care is one of his close ones was in the queer community) and because generally he sucks at dating.

★ Again, P2 is more open about it than him, and probably the one who had those interactions with other guys, but since P1 was not really uncomfortable with the subject he never went too far.

P2 tried to talk to him about it, but P1 just refuses.

— Also, how did I forgot to mention this? Religious trauma.

Now, he has a weird relationship with his christianity and beliefs, his morals, and how he views himself since he was teached to be a good christian, and he kinda wants to be good at the eyes of God, but at the same time he’s into too many stuff his parents told him they were satanic and bad. He has mixed emotions about it, it’s like he wants to let it go, but he’s unable to do so.

To him the cross he carries around his neck is not for the aesthetic, but he’s not because he’s a good christian either. And when he’s feeling at his worst? It’s like a dog collar, reminding him how all the trauma his family beliefs have harmed him, but at the same time he cannot let it go for some reason. It’s like an abusive relationship both with himself and with his religion, if he even believes in it. It’s complicated to understand? He’s just as confused as you are.

Maybe the problem it’s not the religion itself, maybe it was his family and now because of them he can’t really feel comfortable praying (even if he sometimes finds himself doing so on the nights of rough days) or having a normal relationship with his christianity. Whatever it is, he’s traumatized.

★ And P2 doesn't helps either. He just does not cares about it and when he sees P1 having a breakdown about it, knowing how hard the subject is for him, just prefers to not to get involved, because, anyways, what can he do to help him? He just does not know either, it’s something he has to resolve himself. He cannot help him in everything.

P1 sometimes has called P2 a demon during his attacks, and even if he just ignores it it’s true that it can get annoying after all the times he has tried to help him, and every time they had a fight about it P1 ended up worse, so P2 decided to not get involved any more time for that too.

— I think he’s both shy and introverted, but don’t misinterpret me; not shy in a cute bean who gets all nervous and blushy. No. More in the staring at the person like if he was a deer in front of the lights of a car type of shyness, trying not to get too nervous, and after a few seconds he responds to whatever that person said or asked, hoping it wasn’t too cringy or awkward. He usually gets like that when he’s interested in a person (doesn’t matter if it’s platonic or romantic) and doesn’t want them to get weirded out by him

More introverted than shy, that’s for sure.

— If he’s having a good day his neutral face just looks tired, in his worst I doubt anybody would be able to get to see him because in those days he locks himself in his house and refuses to go out, but if it’s the case (probably the clerk of a shop because he ran out of food) it’s a mix of anger and fear (mainly due paranoia and hallucinations, trying to put and angry face to make the others don’t bother him).

— He could be INFJ (Ni Fe Ti Se) or INTJ (Ni Te Fi Se). If that was the case I think it would be due to Se grip.

I could go more into details because I really enjoy MBTI and see how its functions work on fictional characters.

★ Not the same as P2 of course, but that's a story for another day.

— Pretty much stoic, but on the inside? A mess of emotions he does not know how to untangle correctly. He can get emotional when he’s alone, but that’s a part nobody would ever see of him. He’s not going to let anybody see him in such a vulnerable and weak state.

— Now, returning to the main point. I could really go into details of what or why I think it could have happened for him to literally go postal, but I think the main point is that he moved to Paradise trying to escape from his life. And you may ask “but you said those were the happiest years of his life!” yep, completely, but there can be a few things that alone could have been bad but tolerable, but too many of them make them unbearable: maybe he distanced himself from his friends, had to move somewhere cheaper because of money, his mental health going downhill, etc.

The thing is, he moved to Paradise, and it was probably his worst mistake.

Uncle Dave lived there, that’s why he chose that city, but even with that he had almost no contact with him besides the first few days? He was on his own, alone again.

— Ironically, I think he actually worked for a post office. It’s the only job he could find.

— Both his physical and mental state got way worse. He’s never been a really healthy person, but still tried to take care of himself at least a bit. Going out only when heavily necessary and, after a while, not even going to work anymore. That's when he really ran out of money and got the terrifying letter: he got evicted of his “safe place”. Was his house even a safe place at this point? He couldn’t feel safe anywhere anymore.

He could have called Uncle Dave, but at this point? He was just so disconnected with reality he didn’t know what to do.

★ P2 saw him fall and had no idea of what to do at this point. He was tired of trying to help him so he just ignored. P1 felt so bad that, even if he find P2 annoying at times it was the last thing he needed, the last familiar thing he had disappeared hurts him to the core.

— [ tw // mentions of self-harm ] Even if writing in his journal really helped him to calm down during bad days it doesn’t mean he didn’t do other more harmful things to himself when he was at his worst. Before moving to Paradise he handled it better, he was able to tone it down pretty much since he moved from his parent’s house, but after everything got so overwhelming again? He doesn’t know any better. And the worst part of it? Finds it both comforting and thinks that he deserves all this suffering. For everything. For moving away from his parents, maybe they were right after all. For being a bad christian, God, if he hasn’t done it already, would probably turn his back the day he has to pass Heaven's gates. For after being so happy and having friends and thinking he was getting better and how he throwed all out the windows. It’s all his fault, and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to do anything, not even therapy, and cannot call his friends. Nothing. The world’s still going on without him. He just feels like when he was a kid, but worse.

★ And here’s where he appears: the Other Dude (to me not the same as P3). He’s shows him his most intrusive thoughts, those who make him feel sick. OD slowly persuaded him to do horrible things not to himself, but the others. He’s twisted and manipulated everything, every little hope he had. P1 confused P2 with OD at this point, and was the one who made P1 get out of his house after a really long time, but with a gun in his hand, ready to kill everybody who made him feel so miserable and worthless. At this point he’s just gone.

At first, ironically, P2 tried to get in the middle of it, a bit confused of what or who OD was. Why he was so similar to himself? How long has he been there? But even OD persuaded him at some point.

Both P1 and P2 were tired of the way they were living and feeling. So why not change it?

I’m not sure who’s the one who got out of the house ready to cause a massacre, if P1, P2 or OD, but the thing is they all agreed at some point.

— I know this is going to be a bit weird, but I don’t think the whole game stages are real? It sounds weird, but let me explain: you really think a guy who has been locked inside his house for so long, having horrible hallucinations, almost no sleep (and if he had any, probably full of nightmares), not taking care of himself is really going to go too far? It does not matter how many weapons he may carry, it’s practically impossible.

Maybe the first 2 or 3 stages, but not much more before the police/militars/whoever it was got him at some point. The others only happened in his head, his mind going ahead of him, overthinking, and lately, his guilt getting over him.

By this I’m not saying he’s less of a horrible person, he did what he did and it’s sickening, it does not matter how bad he was feeling, killing people who have nothing to do with you and your problems is not the answer. Even if they were the cause, it’s not the solution.

— Leaving aside that all the “Postal” games are usually a parodies of real life and black humor (asides from the first game and “Postal Redux”) and taking it for something more serious, I don’t think “Postal Dude” it’s the name of the Postal Dude.

It was a nickname given both by the survivors of the massacre and the media.

— Also, after what he did he was everywhere. In the newspapers, in the TV, in the radio. That’s how Uncle Dave and the group of friends he had back in the city he lived before found out. But how could he? He was such a nice, quiet guy… he wouldn’t hurt a fly!

His group of friends, who since he moved without saying anything, didn’t pick up their calls and in general ignored them and decided it was for the best to just let it be.

Uncle Dave, on the other side he was worried. What the hell happened during all those years they were separated? It couldn’t be something he decided overnight, there had to be something more, right?

— He got his hair shaved at the asylum. After that he didn’t had it that long in his whole life.

— He got locked in the asylum, and being locked in there, alone again with his thoughts, it was dead of him. Metaphorically speaking.

★ P1 went dormant, refusing to think of what he has done, or at least accepted to do. He couldn't take all that blame, it was impossible. Every time he remembers it he wants to puke. He now really want to be dead. There’s no way he can redeem himself from that, God definitely has abandoned him. OD also disappeared. He just provoked all of this and now what? He accomplished what he wanted, where is he? He bring out the worst part of P1, was he trying to corrupt him and breaking him was not in the plan or was the plan breaking him from the start?

Whatever it was left P2 alone, also feeling guilty of what he has done. He does not feel as bad as P1 but he also cannot feel happy as OD probably feels. What they’ve done it’s horrible, but how OD manipulated them to do it? Even worse. Even for P2 whose morality is more gray-ish than P1s.

He hates it, he’s locked in there with the hallucinations and barely speaks to P1 because he’s completely broken and refuses to do so. Now it’s the other way around. He’s growing resentful to him too for that, they’re both cupid, can he at least make him some company? Like he did when P1 was a child too? It’s unfair.

He has something clear though: if OD ever shows his ass again he will NOT let get on him like he did. And even if he’s annoyed at P1, not even him.

— After some time Uncle Dave brings himself to visit him. At first it was so grim. Dude felt so horrible for his actions he couldn’t bring himself to even look at him, but after some more visits, therapy and meds he started to light up a really tiny bit. It was something.

★ It was not really him, P1 was pretty much not wanting to know anything from the external world, it was P2 who decided to take the lead. P1 didn’t wanted to live anymore? Fine, he would take his chance then. To live the life he never could since he’s always been on P1 mind, rarely being the one in control.

Maybe he was pretending, or maybe he genuinely wanted to get better, but the thing was: he wanted to get out of there, if there was a chance to do so, he would try it. At first do what the workers said, and if that didn’t work he would escape. He does not care. He wants to try to live.

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okay I got a bit too carried away- I’m sorry-

hope you liked them! I’m not really skilled nor do I have practice when it comes to creating headcanons about characters even if I have a few ideas.

I’m thinking about posting a few more in a future,, but school work is killing me-

#postal #postal 1997 #postal dude #postal headcanons #idk #I hope I get him right #honeslty I'm kinda anxious #I kinda want to explore a bit more why he did what he did #and I also crave for dude with an actual stability in his life TuT like if he was in a slice of life anime that nothing too big happens #EDIT: posted this when I was about to go to bed so now I'm doing some corrections #postal dude headcanons #ask #nana's rambling

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