#sedative.
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I love caffeine because headache go poof but also why does the beverage make me sleepy
#like a sedatove#seditve?#sedative.#how do you spell that#sedative? seditivum? is that even the right word?#actually no I need to look that up now#tranquilizer i'll just call it a tranquilizer#It's funny i think because I have a friendish classmate acquaintanceship with anxiety and she doesn't do caffeine after 3pm I think it was#and every time I drink something caffeinated I get a lecturer on how that's bad because caffeeine is evil and makes you nervous#and how it's bad for your nerves and all that#and if she has mercy on me and doesn't give me the lecture I get a critical look or two#and it's fascinating that it seemingy doesn't enter her mind that that is just not the case for me#believe it or not but when your head hurts for about 50% of the time when you're awake and caffeine stops that#then your association with that particular alkaloid isn't stress#and also it just makes me...sleepy is a word but that doesn't really put it right but you know when you're very relaxed#not because you have no stress but because your body just. shut. yanno?#i like that
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michael sheen: they're best buddies!
david tennant: they're married
#good omens#michael sheen#david tennant#aziracrow#ineffable husbands#is this anything?#i'm on a lot of sedatives rn
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Shane's getting ready for the day 🐔☀
#stardew valley#stardew valley shane#shane stardew valley#stardew shane#shane stardew#sdv shane#shane sdv#sv shane#shane sv#stardew#sdv#sv#my art#guy combs his hair like. once a day#this was suppose to be a tutorial on how i draw his hair but i forgot what i was doing midway and just went along with it#thankfully i managed to finish it before taking my sedatives lmao goodnight#also i missed his birthday apparently but pretend this is how im making it up to him . love u stinky chicken man
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tw: noncon drugging, disorientation, power loss
drugging.
I know it’s a classic, but I’m really not over sedatives. it makes whumpee all loopy and clingy, sitting on whumper’s lap and not able to take any of their weight as the world spins. they can’t think, can’t move. even their fear response is dulled.
whumpee knows, hypothetically, in a far off way, that *something* is probably very wrong. but it feels like their consciousness has been shredded to pieces and scattered into the air above where they’re siting slumped, and it’s making it hard to have any type of cohesive thought.
whumper running their hands through their hair, soft and pretty, and saying demeaning things about how broken whumpee is. whumpee won’t remember any of it in the morning.
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Just a silly little girl with silly little thoughts of suicide
#girlblogging#just girly thoughts#it would technically be#the virgin suicides#im so funny#tw sui ideation#coquette#birdie's chestbox#s3lfharmm#tw s3lf harm#s3lf harn#s3lf mutilation#tw sh implied#shblrr#sh things#depressing shit#sh cvt#i wanna cvt#self h@rm#slef harm#lana del ray aka lizzy grant#lizzy grant#female sedness#female hysteria#female manipulator#hell is a teenage girl#obviously doctor you've never been a 13 year old girl#cvtting addict#tw sui implied
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anyone else with me?
#lol#memes#funny#meme#relatable#tumblr memes#dankest memes#hogwarts#haha#funny pics#comedy#dank meme#dank memes#dank memage#humour#dark humour tw#twitter#tweets#tweet#lmao#dark memes#awesome#relatable memes#sarcasm#sed life#us politics
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Sedate your whumpees. Do it whether they want to be sedated or not.
Perhaps they're trying to fight against the doctors who are attempting to help them because they don't understand what's going on, and all caretaker can do is stand back and tearily watch the needle slip in and whumpee's consciousness slowly slip away. Their limp arm is placed back down on the sheets beside them and the doctors now have no resistance to their treatment plan.
Or maybe whumpee is in so much pain/discomfort that they're begging to be sedated. All they want is to be unconscious so they don't have to be aware of all that they're suffering through. The feeling of going under is terrifying to them, but it's worth it. Caretaker sits beside the bed holding their hand, watching the glaze enter their eyes as they start to blink slowly, then drift off.
In either situation, the result is that the whumpee looks peaceful at last. Whether they're actually peaceful within is a whole other thing
#whump#whumpee#sedation#sedation whump#sedative whump#whump prompts#sickfic whump#whump prompt#med whump
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based off some dialogue in book 6 that made me giggle
#he probably needs a sedative as well#twst grim#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland fanart#twst fanart#ace trappola#deuce spade#yuusona#twisted wonderland#twst book 6
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DFQC and XLH | "Sweet Candy" for Dongfang Qingcang
#It's too THEIR time😭#+5 seconds by episode 28 (before going to Fuju Cave)#At the entrance to the DFQC bedroom#He doesn't want to let her go he can’t and he’s so worried. And she gives him a “sedative”.#She is his instant pleasure#I'm sure it happened just didn't show it to us#Closed composition (statistics)#I guess I draw the Cangyan Sea too often...😅#苍兰诀#cang lan jue#art#dfqc#clj#dongfang qingcang#xiao lanhua#moon supreme#xlh#lbfad#love between fairy and devil#clj fan art#my 41st CLJ art#clj-art-blog
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please sir can i have a housewife character whose problems are unrelated to housewifery
#like can we get a housewife character whose husband ISN'T cheating on her?#can we get a housewife character who DOESN'T bitterly regret giving up her career?#can we get a housewife character who HASN'T got an alcohol/sedative addiction?#can we get a housewife character whose children DON'T disrespect her 24/7?#idk it's just this weird desire I have to see a housewife whose biggest problem is that her next-door neighbor is a cult leader#or her uncle left her a haunted artifact after he died under mysterious circumstances#or she inadvertently runs an underground resistance operation out of her living room book club#something other than that she hates and is hated back by the life she chose#ya know?#x
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Passionate, violent back shots, interrupted only when your "Meds" alarm goes off on your phone, like "Take it you fucking cun--oop, meds time, stay there, babe lemme get you some water."
#d's stuff#bd/sm blog#bd/sm kink#its 50/50 whether indecide ti swap them for sedatives or not sooooo#cnc intox#cnc free use#corruption kink
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some absolutely sick art of chapter 28 of interpolation from @fcloudg, posted with permission
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The level of disappointment I have for BNHA ending is unmatched with any type of series I invested in.
The whole reason this story didn’t feel like a carbon copy typical shounen manga was because of the league.
They felt humanized and their trauma was so complex just for them to be thrown away in favor of the heroes learning their little lessons.
These basic ass tropes these main characters carried throughout the series felt so recycled.
The bootlicking was tangible, I mean shit Endeavor got a shot at redemption and he got that opportunity because of his privilege.
It really reflected a lot about society in general.
The worst part is nothing fucking changed, but people eat it up because they fell for characters we’ve seen a 100 times before.
It just sucks, there could’ve been so much more. It really shows even if fiction there’s no solution for the issues each of the villains represented.
I honestly feel if I blindly followed the manga in favor of the heroes and their “struggles” to become super happy plus ultra then maybe I wouldn’t feel so bitter.
But I do, I can’t help that I do. Because there was a swing with so much force behind it just to miss.
And man did it fucking miss.
Perhaps twice’s ending should’ve been a good indicator where the series was headed. But I held onto to hope.
I mean right before Shigaraki died he was told his whole life was orchestrated by afo and that is so fucking tragic.
And my god Toga sacrificed herself, and Dabi is barely even alive. I think he was “spared” so Endeavor could have more time to apologize for his mistakes.
It’s just so fucked, I don’t know how else to put it, I’m disappointed.
The league deserved better.
#bnha#bnha spoiler#bnha spoilers#boku no hero academia#my sedatives kicking in so I’m just barely getting through this rant of mine#leauge of villians#shigaraki tomura#todoroki touya#toga himiko#good night yall
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I be on this app horny as hell
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Sedatives CHPT.2
A/N: Here bc crossposting my beloved
Blaring alarm and sunlight slipping through your blinds awoke you from what you’d considered a good sleep. Friday, the day you’d longed for for months it seemed, not because there’d be shitty slashers on a seemingly endless marathon due to it being the month of October, though that was a plus; but no, it was finally your day off. A day all to yourself and a night to hand out candy to doe-eyed children in differing costumes. Groggily sliding out of bed was a task, though your feet planting themselves onto your cold floor was more than a wake-up call. Your quarters were homey, and cozy. More than enough space for you and your cat, Cilantro. Speaking of the greedy feline, who mewed her greetings as she weaved between your legs as you made your way to the bathroom.
“You can wait Lantro, not like you’re gonna starve any time soon. “You yawned, stretching your arms as your back cracked. The cat, however, didn’t seem to agree with your sentiments in the slightest as she mewed louder, seemingly in response to you. You closed the door in the thing’s face in return. Your morning was everything but eventful, though watching your neighbor’s children chase each other around their yard with dollar store skeletons and spiders, which left a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, sipping on your morning brew with a content glaze within your eyes. Though boredom was beginning to seep through that feeling. Your laundry had been put on, dishes had been washed and put away, and just overall tidying had all been done within the span of a few hours. What now? You hadn’t planned this far ahead, not like medical school and internships gave you time to establish any friendships, and a relationship was the last thing on your mind. Besides, the scum that you worked aside left such a stain on your mind when it came to potential partners. Nurses, smoking and degrading the patients within the yellowing walls gave you looks of contempt and the doctor’s hands planted themselves onto your skin for a good many moments too long. Yeah…so no relationship prospects in sight for you. Catnapping and folding laundry made up most of your day, finding the hours slip through your fingers like fine sand. The dulling sky held many stars, blinking into the blanket of dusty oranges and desaturated blues. You, still donning a simple jumper and pajama pants you're sure you’d stolen from some childhood friend you’d long forgotten in your adult life, pity. Trekking towards the door, donning a thick knitted blanket and Cilantro in tow, you made your way to your rocking chair, an antique thing that could use a paint job, but you didn’t mind. Propping yourself upon the old chair, the wood creaking beneath you, sighed, watching your breath cling to the air. Though despite your day of relaxation, you still carried a weight on your shoulders. “Fucking hell…” you groaned, head thrown back with a displeased expression.
Night lurked within your walls, a heavy silence bearing over your domain as you tossed and turned, comfort fleeting from you, and time ticked by one second at a time. Poor sight you were, desperate for sleep to claim you, for relief to wash over you in a cool wave. You, sweaty and annoyed, threw your comforter away, allowing the cool air of your tiny room to chill your skin, a shitty fan doing little to aid. Thoughts floating back to your job, the patients, the assholes who worked your nerves to no end…Michael. Your breath hitched as you began to think the patient over. How the veins in his hands flexed as he steadily layered paper and glued to form a face. How his eyes followed doctors and nurses, in a way you could only be akin to a predator stalking its prey. Intense. Calculating. Your fingers buried themselves in your soaked hole, your moans echoing off the walls as you brought yourself to the edge. Your back arched as your vision whitened, whimpers rolling out of your throat, riding out your height. It was easy to imagine it was Michael bringing you past this edge; how easy it was to imagine it was his rough fingers dragging down your body, toying with your clit. Attempting to steady your shaking breaths and legs was no easy feat. You stared at the ceiling, sweat clinging to your body as the thoughts of Michael dissipated, the reality of just how taboo this was finally setting in. He was your patient not your patient, but still! A sigh escaped your lips as you rolled onto your side with a wince, your muscles aching as you attempted to find some escape from your sleep.
October 29
Your uniform felt tight, almost suffocating as you placed the small plastic cups of pills in front of patients. You felt pity for them, abandoned and left to rot within the confines of the state, drugged up to a compliant lucid state. Their blank, watery eyes left you feeling hollow every time you turned your back on them after administrating their daily medication alongside the mush the penitentiary called food. It was fucking sick how they treated these mentally unwell people that needed help above all else.
But today, today was different.
Today you felt watched, more than usual. One could akin this to the feelings prey has before the predator strikes, but who was your predator? You shook your head, instinctively wiping your hands upon your dark scrubs, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you approached the behemoth of a man that you’ve affectionately dubbed your ‘favorite patient’.
Michael Myers was quiet, always. His face was always covered with a mask, if not the mop of messy blondish hair. Despite his silence, you found it rather easy to read him, perhaps it was due to the fair amount of time you’d spent tailing after Dr. Loomis, half-heartedly acknowledging his rambles about Michael that you didn’t believe. It was odd, you, a mere 2 years younger than he was, and two completely different people. Sometimes, between shifts or hiding with the smokers out back, you’d think about what life for Michael would’ve been like if life had been kinder, softer. A childhood filled with joy, love, and comfort is what every child deserves in your mind. You don’t think Michael was born a monster, but one born of circumstance. Squeaky cartwheels echo throughout this part of the rec room. Patients and staff alike avoided the very space Michael inhabited, for fear of becoming victims of the Boogeyman of Haddonfield. You, however, were either stupid or brave, and right now you didn’t quite know which one was worse. Michael sat slump, his head hanging low, though you could see his neck jerk in your direction as you approached. “Morning, Michael! “You chirped, gently sliding the plastic cup of assorted medicine to the man. He was quiet, eyes flicking to you for just a moment before slowly reaching for his dailies. You faced the wall as he downed them. You began to wonder what his face looked like; you’d seen his face in files. When he was a boy, his cheeks were rosy, and round, and his eyes still clung to some semblance of childhood innocence. You tried to picture him grown. Perhaps his face was made of nothing of right angles, maybe he looked like his mother? Questions ran through your head as Michael placed the cup down. It made you want to gag knowing he always downed his dailies without water, and it wasn’t for a lack of trying. Water was readily available. Ever the gentle creature you were, Michael watched as you sat across from him, folding your hands in your lap. You tried not to stare, honestly you didn’t, but there was something about him that made you just want to...stare. His hands were large and calloused from the years of nimble working of paper machete masks that donned his cell walls. It was the same hands that killed his sister at the age of 10. The same hands you’d fantasied about the night before.
He remained stoic, eyes finally meeting your face. It felt as if he was searching for something, a hint of malice or pity. He’d find none within your feature, nothing more than a genuine want to know something about him. Michael found you pretty enough, kinder than the nurses and doctors and specialists that buzzed around him like an annoying fly, poking and prodding with annoying tests and needles and a constantly changing dose of medicine that left him feeling ill. You, however, never buzzed. You may have lingered a tad bit longer than was necessary, but it was never in a pestering way. He’d notice how your hands toyed with the hem of your scrubs. They were always dark in color, but never stark black. Muted maroons and soft navies were your usual attire, something Michael found himself fond of.
You were simple. Not easy but you stuck to a schedule.
Michael liked that about you. He almost found himself longing to touch you, to feel you as you rose and walked away. A heavy metal door slammed behind you. It was decided in his mind then and there that you were his. The Boogeyman of Haddonfield wanted you for himself.
October 30
Smith’s Grove had befallen silent for the night, strangely enough. Everyone seemed tense, on edge as every little creak and crack was greeted with a jump. How odd people acted, you thought, making mental notes on what you needed to do before clocking out. It was already a quarter till 4 PM, and the ending of your shift never made you as happy as it is now. You practically skipped through the halls, ready to finally leave Michael with his usual goodbye before your departure. His cell neared, and the heavy scent of wet paper and Elmer’s glue lingered the closer you got.
You knocked, knuckles brushing against the reinforced doors as you entered the cell. Masks hung from the walls like hunting trophies, and one could only wonder how Michael found the creativity to even create such pretty things within his conditions. You’d hum, continuing to eye the brightly colored masks with your arms folded across your chest. You knew not to touch them; it was basic respect after all. Your constant lingering seemed to pay off though, as you nearly squealed when Michael offered a quiet ‘mmh’ in greeting. Sure, it may not seem like something much, but anyone who worked with the behemoth of a man would tell you, that Michael Myers does NOT do anything except eat, sleep, and make those masks; but with you, it was like he was a different entity all together. He was calmer, in your easy. The weight that he clung to within his shoulders seemed to lessen. You both sat quietly, content in each other's company. It was when your watch chimed that Michael stiffened, breathing heavily through his nose whilst you rose, offering a weak smile as you trekked towards the door, promising you’d see him tomorrow, you promised!
#1800cr33py#reqs open#sedatives#rz myers x reader#rz!michael myers#rz michael myers#michael myers x reader#slasher fanfiction#slashers x reader#slasher smut#slashers smut#the boogeyman smut#michael myers smut#open requests
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WDYM THE ONLY FURNITURE WILSON PICKED WAS AN ORGAN FOR HOUSE+$83;_?_!#762$8
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