#tw: weed mentions

[colfy-wolfy]

[void-dude]

My weed smoking girlfriend- WHO SAID THAT WHO SAID THAT?!?!

Also this is the no portal incident au so Stanley and Stanford live together in Gravity Falls

[pollyannawog]

leafos eats weed candy

Based on this legendary comic by @punkitt-is-here

I felt the sudden compulsion to draw this and the gc agreed this was the best combo...

[urhoneycombwitch]

shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one? 

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader 

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all. 

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing. 

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out. 

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath. 

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin. 

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance. 

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears. 

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts. 

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera. 

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place. 

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson. 

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him. 

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business. 

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention. 

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard. 

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby. 

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.” 

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.  

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache. 

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons). 

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass. 

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look. 

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes. 

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack. 

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up. 

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot. 

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space. 

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side. 

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm. 

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks. 

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

[dailysquiddo]

ashswag has a brownie

(parody of the forever weed horsecomix by @punkitt-is-here)

[chumbyy]

waaooohh ms laptop u look gorgeous

[lambment]

I feel so bad for gregor- get this man a mountain of pillows and blankets ASAP

for legal reasons I’m canadian. I’m glad you guys like my silly guy!

[heartfullofleeches]

I come with request 🛐, Femboy reader getting high with Slasher yan for the first time- (Femboys first time, I feel like Slasher gets high every other weekend.)

[weed ment,male reader]

You flinch as the flame ignites. A hand strokes up your thigh, stopping at your hip as restless eyes watch the nervous bounce of your leg against the wooden floor.

"You scared, pretty boy?"

"No... it's just...."

That smell.... It's really getting to you now. An awful stench permeating through the basement door, clinging to the walls of your mouth with every intake of breath. It stuck to their clothes, their skin. You've voiced your concerns before, but they always brush you off. It's nothing. They assured. I got a few plants in the basement for personal use. Maybe you should join me for a session if you doubt me.

It was getting worse - and you hadn't even started.

"Take it easy - you're stressed out over nothing. This'll take your mind off everything. Here."

A glass tube is pressed to your lips before you can form them to your rebuttal. Accepting defeat, you purse your lips around the end of the pipe as they reignite their lighter. Heat funnels down your throat as you breathe. It catches in your chest, swelling in your lungs as tiny plumes of smoke rolling past your lips. A hand gripping the back of your neck keeps you from pulling away as you cough. A musky scent floods your nose as the herb burns. Your face scrutches up as it lingers on your tongue.

"See?"

Something still feels off. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's definitely a difference between the smell of cannabis and whatever wafted from the basement. It's hard to pin out, but whatever it was is gone from your mind now. There's no really reason to doubt them anyway. You quickly lose than train of thought entirely as you take the pipe from them. They warn you to be careful, but there's no bite behind their words. As you take another hit, the hard glass is replaced with the softness of their lips. Pushing their thumb against your jaw, they force the smoke from your lips - sucking in as they shift your legs into their lap. Your skirt rides up as you're adjusted to the new position - your head falling to their shoulder as it spins.

"I'm sorry for doubt you....Can you believe I thought you were hiding a body down there?"

They kiss your wrist as you giggle your worries away.

"I'm heartbroken you'd even suggest that."

[so-very-small]

“I don’t want to do this.”

“C’mon, you know weddings are fun! You’ll be fine.”

“It’s not the actual shindig that’s the issue; it’s the traveling four states over to get there. That drive is gonna take me like, twelve hours. Be glad you’re a borrower and don’t have to travel for cousins’ weddings.”

“Dude, you’re joking, right? Last year my brother had a destination wedding, two blocks down the street at that house with the big birdbath. It took me three weeks to travel there. I had to fight a CHIPMUNK.”

“Goddamn.”

“I wish I could have drove. The birdbath pool party reception ruled, though.”

“Oh, nice. Open bar?”

“Tinies don’t do that. It was Open Bottle. One open bottle of rum, and we were thriving.”

“Fuck yeah.”

[faeriekit]

Despair of Your Discovery

Phic phight fill for @carelisswriting. I am so sorry.

(Relevant warnings are tagged below)

**********

“Oh my god,” Danny says, horrified. “That’s…oh my god.”

The plant looks very innocent amongst the rows and rows of lush green pots in Sam’s greenhouse.

It isn’t.

“You cannot tell anyone,” Sam hisses, and shoves the wicker harvest basket back over the bush, as if there was anyone safe to tell! “Not a word. Not a whisper.”

“This is bad. This is really, really bad.”

“I know!” Sam snaps, looking two steps away from a screaming freakout. “But what can I even do with it?!”

The answer seems obvious. “Get rid of it?!” Danny exclaims, throwing his arms out for additional emphasis. “Making sure there isn’t any evidence left??”

“By what, burning it?!”

Danny opens his mouth to affirm the obvious— only to realize there is another, equally as obvious problem with the usual method of extermination.

“...Put it in the trash?” Danny tries again, grimacing. He crosses his arms, taps his toes. “I mean. It’ll go out eventually.”

“And if someone sees it in the trash?!” Sam volleys back, eyes wide with furious distress.

Okay. There's a clear problem here. All they need is a solution.

Tucker wanders into the greenhouse; he probably found out that they weren’t in Sam’s room and figured out their second location pretty quickly. “Hey, Sam; hey Danny. I thought we were doing Doomed today?”

“We’re not,” Sam and Danny chorus.

Tucker frowns. His eyes go back and forth between them. “...Is everything good?”

“No,” Sam says, cutting off Danny’s: “Sam stole another plant from the school garden again.”

“Oh. Is that all?”

Sam throws herself over the wicker basket and grooooooooans.

“Apparently someone was experimenting,” Danny offers flatly. “It’s bad.”

“How can a plant be bad?”

Sam straightens herself up, makes dead-on eye contact, and lifts the basket.

“Is that WEED?!” Tucker yelps. Danny immediately darts over to slap a hand over Tucker’s mouth, and the basket gets slammed back on top of the plant.

“Don’t shout!”

“Shouting is merited!! Sam grew drugs!!”

“On accident!!” Sam shouts back, very, very pale. “They just left the sprouts in the garden shed without any light or water!! I had to do something!!”

“Saaaaaamm,” Tucker groans, which is pretty unmerited, considering that Sam is probably the person suffering the most here. “Sam, we have to do something!"

“I know, I know!!”

“We know you hate pesticides, but isn’t there…some kind of natural weed killer? Or something?” Danny tries, struggling to think it through. “You can’t hand-pull all your weeds in this greenhouse. It’s massive.”

Sam bites her lip. She doesn’t answer.

“Sam…”

“It’s a waste of plant life to kill it,” Sam whispers. Her two best friends groan out loud, angled in two different directions.

“Sam. It’s illegal. You’ve got to get rid of it.” Tucker’s logic is cold, and brazen.

“...Fine.”

The procedure for killing off a plant the organic way is apparently pretty simple; vinegar, salt, and sunlight. The plant is looking dead and crispy under the glow lights in Sam’s greenhouse in less than an hour; by tomorrow, it’ll be long gone.

“We can never tell anyone this happened,” Danny decides, for obvious reasons. Tucker nods solemnly.

Sam sniffles a little, mascara running. Danny gently rubs her back.

[hott-brownn-sugarr]

The pack boys as dads:

school dance edition!! 😋

picture david and milo’s faces when the kids come within 50 feet of them in the car 😁

[phthalosblues]

Some gf doodles/crappy comics that I didn’t think needed their own individual posts

Woe shitty comics be upon ye

[xullian]

Its finally DONE!!

(Click for better quality PLEASE)

Ok so first excuse the bad anatomy and overall artstyle these are all (except for the passive night one) from somwhere 1-2 years old. Most of them come from incorrect-undertale-quotes on instagram or someone else from somewhere else, some of them i was just being funny and awsome as always. Inks design will be next! ..maybe. Ink or error idk yet

Anyway i really need everyone to look at error. Hes so silly. Close ups and transcript under cut.

Ink: Z is just N but sideways.

Error: Stop it.

Ink: Zo.

Ink: I wanna change the world!

Dream: For the better?

Ink: uhhh-

Ink: Im a Creative person!

Nightmare: And what have you created?

Ink: Problems.

Passive Nightmare: I didnt do it!

Dream, crying: Then why are you laughing.?

Passive Nightmare: Cause whoever did is a fuckin genius.

Error: I hate you with every inch of my body.

Fresh: No offence brah-

Fresh: But that aint a lot of inches

Paperjam, Error: Thats disgusting.

Paperjam, Error: ...

Error: JINX-

Paperjam: Dont do that.

"Gotta film in a hour, we fucked up 🍃😭😝🥳💯"

Dust <- brought weed

Ink <- rolled blunts

Killer <- smoked everything

Cross <- hit it wrong

Ink belongs to comyet

Error belongs to loverofpiggies

Fresh belongs to loverofpiggies

Paperjam belongs to 7goodangel

Dream belongs to jokublog

Nightmare belongs to jokublog

Cross belongs to jakie

Dust belongs to ask-dusttale

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

[somedudewithantlers]

i made a thing

[babyshoesnerdshit]

batkids high headcanons

CW: weed (duh), characters being high (also duh), slightly platonic yandere, and infantilization

Dick: absolute cuddle monster, he will grab which ever sibling is closest and hold on like an octopus, if the need to get something from the other room he will simply carry them there so they can get it. need to go to the bathroom? it will take 15 minuets minimum to convince him to let you go. some siblings will hit him for clinging but it doesn't stop him at all. he just loves you guys so much, and he will tell you this constantly. super affectionate, will kiss the top of your head, you cheeks, your forehead ect. some of the others with try and stab him for this others will give up and let him. will be the one to buy all of the snacks before the sesh. makes sure to get all the ones he know you like best.

Jason: anger issues? what anger issues? super chill and the most relaxed you've seen him. he will find you and will carry you around on his hip, he talks to you like your a child (only you not any of the other siblings) he has a firm hold on you so the only way you're getting down is if one of the other siblings manages to convince him. however he is super comfy and you might fall asleep. if this happens you will be cooed at and many pics will be taken (however that would happen no matter what you did so). tries super hard to make you laugh but keeps cutting himself off by laughing at his own jokes. totally makes his own edibles. will go along with almost any silly antic you get up to, the best at playing along with the bit.

Tim: becomes super quiet and doesn't make many expressions, observes the others for the most part. then out of nowhere he will say the most philosophical shit that makes no sense to anyone but him and he refuses to elaborate. one of the only times he will fall asleep willingly. he will also hug like an octopus but only to you, you can push him off much easier but less than half of a minuet later he's hugging you again. will randomly start petting your hair when hugging you. takes lots of pics of you, if you ask why he just says he's documenting important things. he will use the particularly good/cute ones as ransom to the other siblings (ex. "if you do [insert thing] for me ill give you this pic of (y/n) high [doing cute thing]" and it always works)

Steph: becomes an absolute comedian, constantly cracking jokes and finds the funniest videos to watch. smiles and laughs at everything. tends to fall asleep before everyone else tho (except Duke but more on that later) finds the most random things funny, one time you found her laughing her ass off at an egg just sitting on the counter in the kitchen. will bat at things like a cat, like hoodie strings or someone's hair (most likely belonging to Tim or Cass). defo the biggest stoner out of the whole group (followed by probably Jason). always has a bag of chips on her, no one knows where she keeps them she just pulls them out of nowhere to start snacking.

Cass: Cass has never been drunk or high or any form of intoxicated, and she plans to keep it that way. she likes being in total control of herself all of the time. she does however like to hangout with you guys while you are high, she thinks its very funny and she takes photos and records things to use as blackmail or to trade. stays silent in the corner the whole time just watching you guys be idiots, if she sees you're starting to get stressed/have a bad time she will instantly be by your side and knows exactly how to comfort you. she makes sure you guys always have enough water, before you even ask there's a water bottle right next to you. (depending on just how high you are it ranges from a glass of water to straight up a sippy cup)

Duke: doesn't really get high often but will hang out with you like Cass, he however talks to you guys more than just observing. the few times he gets high it always a really small edible because he has a super low tolerance and smoking intimidates him, and he usually only uses it to help him sleep. dude is knocked out almost as soon as it hits. if he does manage to stay up he just laughs at everything and smiles without saying much. he's just happy to be there :]

Damian: is too young to do anything so no weed for him. he claims he doesn't care and that he is superior for keeping his mind clear but will then go pout in his room because he feels left out. will hang out sometimes but not often because he is a common target for dicks octopus hugs/overbearing affection. when he is old enough I get the feeling he would still not partake out of spite and so he can say he's better than you.

Bonus: Alfred makes the best food for munchies, any requests will be made no matter how strange. Bruce knows but he lets it slide (only after doing several hours of research on it to make sure you guys weren't doing anything too harmful) because he's just happy to see all of his kids getting along and bonding. Bruce did give you all an hour long lecture about making sure what you had was gotten from a safe and regulated dispensary and how to get high in the safest way possible. I personally think he transformed one of the lounge rooms into a specific high room, it has no sharp objects and nothing that you could accidentally get hurt on, there's pillows and blankets everywhere. he will also make sure you guys properly clean any pipes/bongs. much like many of your siblings he will use this as an opportunity to baby you (he would tell you to hold his hand because you might be a bit wobbly or carry you to bed ect.)

[glossysoap]

hit this (milestone under the cut!! don’t click if you don’t wanna see!) and now i’m thinking of smoking with nasty old man price and him grabbing your face to make you breathe in his smoke :(

probably forces you into a spit slick kiss too. makes you open your mouth to let the smoke in before shoving his tongue into your mouth :(

“c’mon, lemme in, kid.” is growled against your mouth.

thank you thank you thank you!!!!! literally love all of you!!! i’m so grateful for you all <3