#pain is my drug

[evilwrongdoer]

i can never wean myself off this shit. i will be an addict forever, because it's all i have.

[heph]

Call me crazy for reading so much into a show like House MD but I think the main theme of House is that despite doing everything perfectly and being a good person, shit happens.

Sickness and pain will be inflicted on you and your loved ones and there's nothing you can do about it, but to persevere, to fight for your life, to keep living despite it all - to love is a part of the human condition; our capability of love is what makes life worth living, despite all the pain that you will inevitably experience.

This show exemplifies the pain of living and the needs and desires of human beings to keep going despite it all

And idk... There's something beautiful about how a show with so many stupid whimsical dumb scenes can impart something so profound in my stupid little brain

[anotherfandomtrash]

@alittlesliceofcucumber got the great idea for tgaa x disco elysium and I couldn't resist not to draw it. I didn't get far in the de yet, so I didn't want to put characters in other roles, but Gina is a kid who would call pigs fa**ots, that's basically canon. Anyway, love my two fave detectives interacting

[lovehours]

i don’t even fucking care

[baejax-the-great]

oh this is real ⛈⛈

[kisstheoak]

i’ve never been tied up before, but i imagine it’s so much fun. holding my hands above my head is one thing, hand cuffs are pretty good, but being completely tied up? unable to move whatsoever, not even able to resist or fight. if you woke up in a strange room with only handcuffs, you could get up and have a chance. tied up? completely covered from head to toe, not able to move a single muscle. what are you gonna do when the big scary man walks in and sees your naked tied body laying on the dirty floor like a flighty mutt ready for his taking. the answer is nothing. you lay there like a good girl and you take the pervs dick and thank him.

𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘰𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵

[ask-the-druggieverse]

Nightmare, do you sell catnip? my cats looking to get high

- ALT - PASSIVE!NIGHTMARE: ...Pardon? KILLER: I HAVE SOME FOR 50$!!!

- IDK - He's not saying pardon cause he's concerned, he just can't read what you're saying right now (opioids got to him fast)

MAIN: @inkyu

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[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔄𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔫 ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 - 𝔐𝔞𝔫 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔅𝔬𝔵

[laniidae-passerine]

I made my post about Dean Highbottom and then as I was writing my tags realised that his Hunger Games counterpart is Haymitch. and now my head is in my hands and I don’t think I’ll ever recover

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

This is just a reminder that Fresh hates his actual birthday which will be tomorrow-

Banner: HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRESH

Error: what if-

Geno: CAN WE PLEASE GET THIS OVER WITH

[thehouroftwilight]

x don't you leave him

[askquarantinedredheart]

CW: Drug Use Disorder, mentions of sex work, briefly mentioned/implied sex, pain

Volume 1: Isolation

First - Previous - Next - Last

[s0fter-sin]

it’s the sound that tips him off.

it’s late, half-past hell by his last count, and mactavish knows there shouldn’t be a single soul in the showers this time of night. though he’s sure if he asked, he’d be told a soul isn’t in there.

just a ghost.

he almost chokes on the thick steam filling the locker room; humid and hazy and the perfect cover. or it would be, if the man collapsed in the far stall cared about hiding.

mactavish hates himself a little for the low sigh that falls from his lips. he wishes he wasn't so disappointed; that the promises he's heard over and over and watched be broken as many times hadn't wedged their way into his heart and convinced him that maybe, maybe this could be the time it sticks.

he doesn't know what's worse; the disappointment or the lack of surprise.

he holds his breath through the steam and leans over the limp body; stinging hot water hitting his back, instantly soaking through his clothes and already starting to burn. he flicks the tap enough to take the bulk of the heat out and straightens; a groan startling out of the man beneath him at the sudden lash of tepid water.

mactavish crouches, knees clicking and hooks a hand under his bicep to pull him up straight against the wall. if there was any vomit on his skin, it's been washed away by the pelting stream and he supposes he can count himself lucky for that. he tilts his limp head back and slips his fingers into his mouth; holding down his tongue and ignores the way it lazily jolts under his fingers to check his airway.

clear.

another small victory.

mactavish pulls his fingers out and cups his chin, keeping him tilted up and moves in the way of the water again so he can pull at his eyelid.

the eye he's met with is cloudy, so dilated there's hardly a ring of blue left.

he sighs again; hand falling away and letting his eye fall shut. "god damnit, riley."

riley moans, all his weight resting on the hand holding his jaw.

"aye, 'm talking ‘bout you," he grunts tiredly.

he lets riley's head fall forward to grab his arm, pulling him away from the wall to sit behind him; propping his body up against his chest. he leans his head back over his shoulder, keeping his face out of the water and his airway open just in case he hasn't actually finished throwing up.

he takes the rag riley'd half-managed to soap up and mechanically runs it over him; cataloguing new bruises and cuts and checking if the old ones are healing. sickly yellow fingerprints ring his hips, red splotches paint his ribs; too new to have settled into the deep purple he knows they’ll become.

riley slowly makes more noise as he rubs life into his body; still lying limp against his front but his head's starting to roll restlessly on his shoulder. he swipes between his legs and carefully doesn't think a single thing about what he finds.

"sean?" he rasps and mactavish's hand stills; eyes falling shut. he bites his check, hand clenching around the rag tight enough to shake and breathes hard out his nose.

he doesn't say a word, just forces himself to go back to cleaning.

he's not sure what would come out of his mouth if he did.

riley isn't conscious enough to hear him anyway.

he runs his fingers over his inner elbows for tracks and manages to muster some relief when he doesn't find any. seems to be a pill and booze night; far from the worst condition he's found him in.

he rinses him off, running a curtesy hand over his shaved head only for it to fall back to his jaw; his thumb stroking over the thick scar carved into his cheek.

"you gotta stop doin' this," he whispers.

he isn’t sure if he’s talking to riley or himself.

mactavish gathers up riley's too-light body into his arms and turns off the shower. his head lolls into his throat and he throws a towel over his dripping body and another over his shoulder. it doesn't stop him from tracking water all the way to his quarters but he'd like to see someone try to put in a complaint about it.

he lays out the other towel on the bed and sets riley down; moving his body into the recovery position in an all-too familiar routine. he dries him enough that he won't soak the covers as he pulls them up to his chest and kicks the waste bin within grabbing distance of the bed.

he goes to pull off his sodden clothes when a different noise makes him freeze.

a low sniffle.

mactavish slowly turns back to the bed to find riley's eyes squinting open; glazed with tears as he kneads at the covers.

he stares at him for a moment as he looks around the room and those hazy eyes lock on him for the first time. "cap'n?"

he swallows. "aye; s'just me, riley."

his hand pokes out from under the covers and for all the promises he's made himself - all the “never again”s and “this is the last time”s - at the end of the day, he's weak.

he sits on the side of the bed and takes riley's hand in his; already so cold after nearly boiling himself alive.

"y' mad a' me?" he sniffs.

mactavish runs his tongue over his lip and slowly shakes his head. "no, i'm not mad at you."

"prom'se?" he pushes.

he reaches out and caresses his temple with his thumb. his hand almost covers his head and it cuts like a knife to remember just how small riley is. "aye," he says, hushed. "i promise."

riley's eyes fall shut, voicelessly murmuring 'promise’ to himself over and over.

"I’ll ge’ bett'r," he slurs and between one breath and the next, he's out.

mactavish sighs, running his hand in a final pass over his head and stares at a face that looks so much younger in sleep; bruised and sallow skin hidden in the shadows. "i know you will."

he presses a slow kiss to his forehead, shutting his eyes against the grief that wells in his heart and gets up to pull a chair over to the bed; settling in for another long night's vigil of watching his broken lieutenant sleep, ready to tilt him over if he throws up, eyes locked on the slow rise and fall of his chest fearing tonight may finally be the time it stops.

[somedayillbepeterpan]

How do people move on from fictional ships?

[whumpacabra]

Have your medical caretaker forget (or your medical whumper ‘forget’) to numb whumpee before a minor but painful operation.

They have to follow up with a sedative to help whumpee ‘calm down,’ blissfully unaware (or cruelty reveling) that they’re still in excruciating pain.

Whumpee is still in pain, but they’re too confused and exhausted by the sedative to communicate that to their caretakers.

[jade-lynxx]

Watching a show while it airs is the worst thing ever when I want to put it in a little line and snort it