#weed tea

[ezc6]

good morning 💨🍋🍃

[s0ull3ss-p3rs0n]

Headcanon that Cinder can create weed smoke by chewing on weed leaves, and emitting smoke from his mouth, so when he blows towards someone and the smoke hits them, they get high as balls.

He has done this to Jay several times btw. And did it to Nokt once for the funny but he almost murdered him afterwards so it never happened again.

[valtsv]

headcanoning improbable bonding activities for the terrorism trio

[peekychu]

I shouldn’t be at work, I should be at a sleepover watching Codename: Kids Next Door and eating stuffed crust pizza

[royalarchivist]

Fit: [Reading a dono] My favorite flower?

[Long thoughtful pause]

Fit: ...Any flower that Pac gives me is my favorite flower. How's that for an answer? That's not- that's not a thought that normally goes through my head, is: "What is my favorite flower?"

Fit: Any flower that is given to me is my favorite, unless it's like, a dandelion, 'cuz that's technically a weed. And that says a lot. That says a lot.

[shelovesplants]

Tangerine herbal tea for positivity🫖cherry lime runtz diamonds for relaxation 💎🍒🍈🩷🙌💨

[deadboystims]

ᯓ★ ┊ fluttershy stimboard with related stims and a neutral color scheme

1 , 2 , 3 ┊ 4 , 5 , 6 ┊ 7 , 8 , 9

[everdoeswriting]

do you ever have a dnd session that was so insane that the next day you're still struggling to process whatever the fuck just happened

[c-kiddo]

another weirdo cad ep98 moment again . the gals + fjord trying to discuss giving veth swimming lessons and fjord mentions tying her to the ship with rope to swim (veth yelled NO!) and cad wanders past and is like Do you guys want rope i have so much rope? and when they say no thanks he's like ok bye then i'm going to go back to playing with the ship's wheel :-]

[inanimateinsanitywiki]

reading inanimate insanity fics that came out before s2 ep16 where the characters mention anything about their lives before they joined the show

[ezc6]

🍵🍃

[dad-look-its-the-good-kush]

sip ‘n’ smoke 💨✨

[alexjcrowley]

The Hobbit or Bilbo Baggins's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad, Not At All Fun Steppe Vacation

[whatwwwwwww]

[ID: A selfie of a white lesbian wearing a white reusable respirator. /end ID]

New mask came in!

[casperth3ghost]

i love all my ocs from all the fandoms im in because they arent like kids or siblings or oc x canon or wtv

no its my self instert thats there to fuck around with everyone

[fragileizywriting]

“i lost my weed,” he tells her on the phone. she holds her breath and counts, listening to him seemingly struggle with something as he searches further in his car. a sigh, a loud one, followed by a familiar sound of him thunking his head against the dashboard in defeat. “i give up.”

“what are we up to?” she giggles. ah. solidarity. isn’t it nice to say ‘we’? no longer just ‘her’ or just ‘him’; the both of them are in this predicament together, it seems. this might be love. it’s not that deep, though. but isnt it?

it’s so early in the morning and she would feel snippy about being woken up with this call, but something about that pristine paris silence, coupled with the low baritone voice against her ear, somehow makes her not want to grumble.

she misses him. god, she misses him.

this particular european tour has cost the two of them so much. she’s not a fan of having to go back on suppressants to stop her impending heat from coming up, but the lethargy is much better than the anxiety, and knowing that luka’s record label would rather pull his tooth out in order to get a bid from a fan than to actually care… this is better. slightly better. her heat always builds in waves, grabs her by the throat, and pulls her under until she drowns— but now, sleepy, there’s not much for her to worry about. the suppressants drowses her out. waiting for the scent of ginseng tea to wake her fully up again.

“hmm?” then, as if he’s forgotten she’s here at all, acting like he’s carrying her around as if she’s in a heart shaped locket around his neck: “oh. kitty, you’re here for moral support.”

she laughs again. delighted. loving. something inside her feels liquid and languid, indulgent in the domesticity. “does moral support need to be at two in the morning?”

“yes.” another sigh. a grunt, a stretch, and she hears his fingers drum on the steering wheel. a desperate stim that he has, one that always calms down when he’s gotten more than halfway down the joint. “i bought a couple of cigarettes today and i was hoping i could finish one of them. i dropped it and i can’t find it and im just…”

oh… “your back is hurting?”

“yeah,” he mumbles, into what she assumes is his elbow.

another one of the mistakes of this tour. by now, her alpha’s body is aware of what should be passing— he doesn’t take suppressants, doesn’t need it, doesn’t suffer like she does with her own heat, but his body still knows… the stress is enough to make every tendon in the body hurt. she’s seen the knots, felt them, worried them between her knuckles. he carries his problems, his grief in between the stitched threads of his muscles, and almost never successfully loosens them up unless he’s sniffing at her pulse and imagining keeping her warm.

the only thing that can supplement while they’re gone is another type of drug, it seems.

she cozies up to her pillow and imagines his breath under it.

“tell me about your day,” she coaxes, tucking her phone close to her mouth. her lashes coat her vision, casting her pink room into silent, somber grey. it’s cozy. reminds her of the color of luka’s eyes during the sunrise and the blue clashes with the golden, pungent sun hitting his irises. “how’s amsterdam?”

luka breathes in one more time, and starts to talk.