#the dangers of drugs

[pangur-and-grim]

I took a photo of Grim's ketone test to show the vet, but I forgot about the Bad Man in the background

[nyancrimew]

hey i just wanted to say i love you and also youve never done anything wrong in your life

i have done a lot of things wrong in my life, and so have all your other idols! don't be blinded by the public image of a well known personality or your image of them in your head, it'll come back to bite you

[speench]

nsbu fans listen to me, listen, most of the cast hasn't had an Ify moment yet where they talk directly to their ?? alter egos?? and before we see dynamics unfold with other characters I need everyone to consider: Liv and Kingskin as unwilling father and his newfound ride or die child trope that is all

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

Dude I see so much of average drugged whumpee just being spacey and out of it, but I raise you, a drugged whumpee that’s happy. A whumpee dosed with a euphoria drug that has them wonderfully higher than a kite, laughing, looking at streaming shimmering hallucinations around them, blissfully relaxed and unaware that whumper is behind it

bonus points if whumper flees from wherever they’ve been hiding, leaving a happily drugged whumpee behind as a “present” for caretaker

(content warning: nudity, the vague references to non-con touching)

YES. YES. YES.

I ADORE happy little drugged out whumpees! And Caretaker finding them like that? Especially when it’s such a far cry from whumpee’s typical personality? I could explode.

It’s all about the dichotomy between their behavior and their situation. Anything would be more fitting. Helpless terror as they shiver in the corner, hiding from horrors only they can see. Numb listlessness because their body is overburdened by exhaustion. Those all make sense, they fit.

But joy? Near manic euphoria, a smile stretching across their pale and dirty face? They’re not screaming or crying, but laughing, a drunken giggle that bounces against cold walls.

I think there’s an extra layer of helplessness there that is absolutely amazing. They’ve been stripped of their freedom, their dignity, and even their ability to properly respond to their situation. They’re not even given the right to anger or sadness. They’re trapped in an unthinking joy, and they can’t even begin to understand why it’s a bad thing.

And left as a prize? Absolutely. I love the idea of Caretaker finding them like that, at their most vulnerable. Presented like a trophy. Wrapped in thin silk and rope too weak to bind them under normal conditions, bruises peppering otherwise bare skin.

It’s humiliating, it’s painful, but Whumpee has no awareness of that. They simply feel good, relaxed and peaceful in a way they haven’t been for months. They’re barely aware of the exposed state they’re in, too out of it to even feel shame. They can’t remember the mocking words Whumper spoke as they pushed the needle into Whumpee’s skin, can’t remember the sicking mix of fury and terror they felt in those first few minutes, laying there with nothing to do but wait for the drug to kick in. All that’s left in their head is pink, sparkling joy.

Finally, Caretaker arrives. Whumpee doesn’t register the look of horror on Caretaker’s face. They barely respond as they’re searched for injuries, barely respond to Caretaker’s presence at all. When they do respond, it’s with slow, slurred speech, the words incoherent and muddled with uncontrollable laughter.

It sends a chill up Caretaker’s spine. It’s a state they’d neve expect to find Whumpee in, a state Whumpee would never allow themselves to be found in. It's frightening, seeing Whumpee act so unlike themselves.

Knowing that Whumper was around them in this state makes Caretaker sick. Knowing that Whumper had them at their most vulnerable, was free to mock them, touch them, do anything, and Caretaker wasn’t there to stop it, makes them feel sick.

It makes them sick to think this is all part of some game to Whumper. It makes them sick to think that they’re playing along, that saving Whumpee is somehow part of Whumper’s plan. But there’s nothing else Caretaker can do.

Caretaker removes their coat and drapes it over Whumpee’s body. Carefully, they pick Whumpee up, not trusting them to walk in their state. Whumpee’s body is warm despite being left on the cold floor, skin flush as the drug works through their system. Whumpee’s shivering, though they don’t seem to notice that either.

Whumpee presses themselves into Caretaker’s chest, humming contently. Caretaker holds them close with trembling fingers, and swears to never let them go again.

[letitbehurt]

A trope I adore: not only a drugged Whumpee, but the act of drugging Whumpee.

Pinning Whumpee’s arm to the ground or a table, keeping them still enough to push the needle into their arm

Causing a sharp, sudden pain that makes Whumpee cry out, their mouth opened just long enough to shove a pill inside—then holding a hand over Whumpee’s nose and mouth until they swallow or suffocate

Forcing Whumpee to drink something they know is laced (or don’t)

Waving a strong chemical beneath an unconscious or exhausted Whumpee’s nose, and watching the effects hit their system almost immediately

Making Whumpee finish a suspiciously chalky meal

Restraining Whumpee and hooking them up to a constant drip of fluids meant to keep them docile. Bonus: Whumpee fighting tooth and nail to keep the needle from their arm because they know—once it’s in, there’s no chance to escape

[ghost-kings-court-jester]

People will get upset about poetry being a dying art and then will ignore almost all modern music with complex rhythm and lyricism because of classism and racism.

Like to say poetry isn’t dead they’ll have to admit that the best modern American poets are black people speaking in perfect iambic pentameter and critiquing the government.

Like don’t let your school lie to you poetry is supposed to be a spoken art form.

Some of the most famous poems have instrumental pieces to accompany them but they will literally go out of the way to not study songwriting as poetry.

Because if they do discuss someone like Hozier with W. B. Yeats they would then have to discuss Kendrick Lamar and Robert Frost and that would let you all know that those guys have more in common than they want you to realise and erase the myth that intellectualism is something only for the privileged. 

[maybebitterxox]

The pitch for Buffy The Vampire Slayer was probably just “What if there was a girl who could kill vampires. And she can Never Catch A Fucking Break”

[sprldreams]

Keeping you drugged so you can focus on being a pretty little toy ♡⁠˖

[cavity-collector]

LAPAWTOMY!! :3

[annabelle--cane]

god people are so stupid about drugs on this damnable website

[b-bndi]

Homoerotic Psycological Horror >>>>>

[svntanas]

everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer! 💋

[becauseimanicequeen]

Why in the world would you like toxic characters? Why are you so proud of that? What is it even to be proud of? What's wrong with you?

Well, my dear Anon. If you only knew how many times I've asked myself those very same questions…

And the answers always come down to: It’s fiction.

And even though fiction is a vital part of life (just like any other art form) and you can learn a lot from it (you have no idea how many toxic people I’ve been able to avoid, before they even found out my name, thanks to my love for toxic characters and seeing their red flags), fiction is also just fiction.

The characters aren’t real, even though they can seem like it. Just because I love a character that's toxic as fuck doesn't mean I would condone real people who behave that way.

Also, I’m not hurting anyone with my obsession with toxic characters. It’s not like I'm forcing anyone to think like me (and for the love of all things holy, don't do that!).

Besides having a healthy obsession with the toxic characters I love, I’m not very emotional (for lack of a better word) about what I watch. I can be intrigued by toxic characters without either excusing their behavior and actions or hating them (because there’s enough hate in the world for me to do that shit). I can watch taboo topics and other shit that most people find triggering and not be triggered (even though I see the taboo topics for what they are). I can watch problematic stuff and see beyond it to what’s really being said (even though I see the problematic stuff for what it is).

But that’s just me. And I would never force my perspectives on anyone else because I know the majority isn’t like me (which is a good thing, btw).

So, if you don’t vibe with my shit, block me. I don’t mind.

Trust me. I’ll survive. You’ll survive. The world won’t fall apart. We’ll both be okay. Just block me.

Because I will keep loving my favorite toxic fatherfuckers. I won't excuse their behavior and actions. But I will love them.

And the only one who can stop me is ME. But I don’t want to because I love all the shades of toxic bitches and their red flags.

Like Boston from Only Friends.

And Todd from Not Me.

And Chalothon from The Sign.

And Ray from Only Friends.

And So from House of Stars.

And Yai from Big Dragon.

And Way from Pit Babe.

And Boeing from Only Friends.

And let's not forget Vegas from KinnPorsche!

And Yoden Ryoji from Dangerous Drugs of Sex.

And Yong Jie from HIStory 4: Close to You.

And Rio from The Novelist.

And Ritsu from To the End of the World With You.

And definitely Ming from My Stand-In!

I love them all because I have issues. But so do all of them, which is precisely why I love them.

Thank you for your ask.

[coreancitizen]

His voice softened, “If I died, you should take your sister and leave the military camp. Find a new place to settle down, open a pork shop, build a pigsty to raise pigs, or just live well. In the future, marry a gentle and handsome scholar you like, have children…” — Xie Zheng, the marquis of Wu'an, to Fan Changyu after she took his place in the battlefield thinking the man she married was a mere soldier and a gravely injured one, "Chasing Jade" webnovel Chapter 84

[2003toyotaprius]

I wonder what was the official story behind Magnus losing an eye. Did he made up some epic battle he barely win or did he pretend he slipped under the shower or something.

[hearts4werka]

NNN day 7 | Underground Secrets

summary: your boss has set up a dangerous mission for you—to take down the intel of the notorious rival gang, The Vipers. Your boyfriend, a drug dealer of a rival organization, Chris is advising you not to go through with the plan because of how dangerous it is for someone like you, will you listen to your boyfriend or value your reputation over the risk of life and go through with the plan?

warnings: ANGST, gang membership, drug dealing, strong language, mentions of committing murder, arguing, a dangerous mission, the risk of life or death, illegal possession of firearm, illegal underground gangs, viewers advisory is supervised! Proceed to read with caution

authors note: and the one week mark finally arrived! Tysm for all of the love and support I’ve received during this whole week and I’m proud to announce that week one has been done, there’s still a lot of steps to take before reaching the end but we’ll get through it! Luv y’all so much & hope y’all enjoy this one

no nut november | masterlist | guestlist

The city's dim lights flickered like a heart in distress, throwing long shadows that danced over the crumbling warehouse walls. I slumped against a rusted pillar, arms crossed, determination etched on my face. Chris, the infamous drug dealer from the rival gang, stood before me. His messy hair showed the exact replica of the tension in the air. Our eyes met, his glare sharp, frustration carving lines into his hardened features.

“Are you fucking insane?” Chris exclaimed, running his fingers through his messy locks in pure frustration with my stubbornness. “You’re seriously thinking about going through with this? Killing that intel guy for the Vipers? That’s a one-way ticket to getting yourself killed!” I straightened my posture, breaking the heavy silence between us like hammer on glass. “This is my job, Chris. I’m backed into a corner. My boss demands results, and if I fail, I’ll be the one buried in a ditch.”

“Do you really think I want to see you six feet underground for some bullshit mission?” He closed the gap between our bodies, his voice filled with urgency. “Listen, I’ve seen how these Vipers play. You’re walking into a total trap. They’ll have their eyes on you, and the moment you walk in, you’ll be history.” I stood my ground, not letting his shooting fire walk all over my resolve. “What did you just say? It’s just a job, I’m good at what I do. I can handle myself for once.”

"‘Handle yourself?’ Chris scoffed, a bitter laugh rumbling in his throat before escaping past his lips. “This ain’t some amateur shit, this is the Vipers we’re talking about! They don’t play nice, and this intel guy, he’s not your average rat. He’s got layers of protection, and I promise you, they’ll be ready to take you down.” His words hit hard, a mix of care and frustration mixed together. But I couldn’t show any signs of vulnerability. ‘I get it, but you can’t decide for me. I’m no damsel in distress, Chris. I can fight my own battles.’"

“Fighting and getting yourself killed are two different things,” he retorted, fists clenched together and almost threatening to do unspeakable acts. “And what do you think will happen if you go in there and fail? You think they’ll just let you go? No! They’ll take you out, and I won’t sit around and wait for news that you’re dead.” “You’re trying so hard to act like you give a shit about me,” I shot back, my anger rising to higher levels. “When have you ever given a shit about anyone but yourself? This is my life! If anyone’s making the final choice, it’s going to be me.”

“Damn it, you’re right,” he murmured, his voice barely a breath. “I can’t afford to care about everyone. But you…” He rubbed his face, laying the vulnerability I never saw coming. “You matter. I don’t want another goddamn funeral to attend because of this war.” For a minute, the walls between us felt like broken glass, and I noticed a spark of connection. But that spark couldn't wipe the weight of the mission on my back. I stepped back, shaking my head. “This deep in, I can’t back down. It shows weakness, you know how they treat that in this game.”

Chris's blue eyes blazed with intensity. “And if you have to sacrifice your life to prove a point, then what does that make you? Some fucking plaything for a bloodsucking boss? You deserve better than this!” A sharp stab pierced through my heart, a mix of rage and something deeper like fear. Fear for my life. Fear for this weird connection that felt like a chain. “This isn’t up for discussion, Chris. I’ve got a job to do here.”

His tone softened, becoming almost desperate. “I’m not asking you to quit. All I’m asking is for you to think. We can come up with a better plan. We can…” he paused, then added, “we can work together.” I become blindsided by his heartfelt sentence but I couldn’t let him get anywhere near danger this high of a lever, even though he is a strong ally to have on your side, I can’t bear the idea of him stepping into the wicked battlefield against the Vipers with not enough experience with them beforehand.

“I’m not letting you get anywhere near danger like this, it’s The Vipers. Without any experience with them in the past, there’s no way you’ll make it out of there.” The weigh of my decision hung above me like a noose, knowing how desperate he’s already got to make me stay and to what levels he could climb to make me think I have no other choice. “I’ll be fine, you can’t do this shit alone.” He pleads, the look in his eyes almost begging me to let him go with me, the vulnerable side of him is starting to show that rarely anyone gets to see.

While in the middle of the conversation mix between stubbornness and desperation, my phone rings inside of the pocket of my jeans, alerting me of an incoming call. Pausing for a moment before answering the call, finding out it’s coming from my boss with a demand to get the job done as fast as possible since if the Vipers figure out our plan they’ll be on the move immediately. He hangs up the phone, it beeping which indicates the call has reached an end.

“I have to go, don’t follow me.” I provide, shoving my phone back into its spot while picking up the black hand gun sitting on a nearby old crate. “Don’t dare to argue with me about this further, I have to get it done before the Vipers catch on.” He slumps over to me, rolling his eyes at how idiotic my decision is. Delivering a soft kiss on my forehead before letting go of me completely, glancing down at my face with sorrow etched into the features of his face. “Just don’t die on me, okay?” “I won’t, I promise.” With the last words placed on the table, I take off and walk towards the exit. Slipping on my helmet for protection before hopping onto a black motorcycle, sparing Chris one last glance before taking off into the dark dangerous night with determination to prove my worth and end the Vipers for good.

Guestlist!

| - @strnzzvsp - @sturnsxplr-25 - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknot - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - |