#who is probably just on drugs

[coca-colas-truck-driver]

i cant get over s 1 dean what was he even trying to do when he’d show up at their latest place to interview the roommate or parents?? like they’d pop up, as FBI agents, priests, state or regular police, or sometimes just… show up??? then somehow they got let in like every time, even if whoever they’re interviewing is like in the trenches of grief because they just lost their best friend or kid or whatever, just for dean to then sit whoever they’re trying to interview down and be like “so… have you ever… seen something… out of the ordinary….? 😀” “felt any cold spots lately? does the air feel different, perhaps?” “any electrical issues? loud noises at night? things being moved around when no ones been in the room? maybe a figure? lurking around the halls at night and groaning? maybe a ghost- have you seen a ghost?”

[feldsparred-mo-reblogs]

No nuance november: If your main headcanon for Gabbro is that they are "a stoner" because "they are so chill" I actually don't want to hear anything else you are saying because I am already bored

[anotherpapercut]

genuinely so many of you want to be leftist and "punk" and countercultural soooooo bad but you refuse to become comfortable with the concept of people taking drugs for fun because they like it and not because they were somehow tricked or forced into it without knowing what they were getting themselves into

you'll be like "addiction is a disease!!" but think you're better than those degenerate stoners because you only drink energy drinks and white claws and would never touch "illegal drugs"

many if not most drugs CAN be consumed completely safely with almost 0 risk to the user and even if that werent true and all drugs were extremely dangerous you still wouldn't be better than those of us who love doing drugs recreationally

lighten up and grow up. get offline, talk to real adults, and stop being shocked to discover that they enjoy doing stuff that adults do like have sex and do drugs and even listen to rock and roll

[frameconfessions]

I don't think the Technocyte Coda "boys" are the original On-Lyne boys. I think the originals are long dead and these things are cloned from leftover DNA like hairbrushes and things like that (like one of Amir's datamined emails mentions in the mall). We know the Orokin like trying to do longevity experiments and cloning experiments later on in the timeline and if Gregory V is Alad V's ancestor, the motivations would certainly line up.

[chaoscheebs]

Sometimes I wonder just how much knowledge of things the average Japanese teenager would never dream of knowing Yugi has thanks to stories from his grandpa and said grandpa's poker buddies.

Considering apparently knowledge of Russian vodka is somewhere in Yugi's metaphorical memory banks and, let's face it, manga!Sugoroku has a bit of a sleezy side, it is probably A Lot and Yugi will accidentally, metaphorically slap people in the face with facts someone that small and cute should not know, what the hell, Yugi.

[bearyyayay]

I feel like Sam at one point force Paulie to join the boxing club so he could bet on him since he knows he's a good fighter

[rebellum]

I feel like... Perhaps... Arguing that transphobia is defined by murder and that anything other than murder doesn't even matter... May NOT be conducive to fighting for trans rights.

Like... people want the right to exist as they are. They want to have access to hrt and surgeries and prosthetics. People want access to clothes that fit them and reflect how they want to be seen. People want access to medical care (eg. Getting screened and treated for sex-based forms of cancer can be impossible if you have the "wrong" sex listed to receive those tests). People want to be respected and treated well. People want to not be sexually assaulted and beaten and abused. People want to have access to housing and jobs, and the protection to not lose those things for being trans. People want access to shelters for homeless people or survivors of domestic abuse. People want name changes.

Acting like all of those things don't matter because at least they weren't murderered by an individual (and instead die of suicide or state violence, or survive and suffer) isn't okay.

[izzyspussy]

we went over the 14yr long torture session in my last therapy visit actually, and i told her that toward the end i was fantasizing about and then actively considering walking into traffic because if i got catastrophically injured then they would have to treat my pain. and she told me that's not an uncommon thing for people to do. that she has heard that many times before.

like think about that. we are so moralistic about drug use and have politicized a particular type of medicine so much, and doctors are so uncompassionate toward and even suspicious of patients who are in pain because of it, that it's NOT UNCOMMON for people who are otherwise not suicidal to start completely genuinely longing to get hit by a fucking car just for the chance to be oh so graciously provided the absolute bare fucking minimum of care.

think about how many different things have pain as a symptom. how many things have pain as the only symptom the patient is aware of. how many of them are life or death crises. heart attacks. blood clots. strokes. bleeding ulcers. those are just what i can think of off the top of my fucking head, AND I'M NOT A FUCKING DOCTOR.

what i had, for example, feels exactly like appendicitis. and they left it for fourteen years because my only symptom was excruciating pain and i didn't fit their stupid little (completely unsupported by evidence, btw) diagnostic mnemonic. if it had been appendicitis, or anything else as immediately deadly that "just" hurts, i would have fucking died the same night i got sent home from the emergency room with "medical" "advice" to take some tylenol and rest - for the first time, that is. out of dozens. how many people do die that way?

because addicts are Bad. and because doctors are too arrogant and biased to practice medicine on the basis of evidence and informed consent when the profit model and conservative propaganda make it soooo easy to stay in the good old days of paternalism instead.

[creativity-deficient]

“Tweek can’t be chubby he’s on meth nnghh!!!”

Shhh don’t care. Didnt ask. <3

[envolvenuances]

and I think child modelling should be illegal I'm not even joking

[urfavisananimegirl]

walter white from breaking bad

Walter Hartwell White (Breaking Bad) is an Anime Girl!

[slime-sandwhich-nom]

Been thinking about this again

[francis-writes]

Modern!Ramsay imagine

(Maybe one day I'll make it a headcanons or a longer story)

You and Ramsay are both young adults and it's kinda accident that you two met. You're both rather outcasts - partially from your own will. The only difference is that Ramsay is a bit more "known" - his aggresive tendencies and disregard for the rules already got him into trouble with law a few times. You're not a saint either, but for now you managed to keep your activities secret and not to draw police's attention. Finally you start talking with Ramsay and it quickly turns out that you share a passion for drugs, sex and loud music. Perhaps you enjoy violence as well and Ramsay helps you indulge in those desires. Anyway now instead of sitting alone, you spend time together, encouraging each other to go even further. You go to a bar, ride through the town, go on a sex party, or just relax in home, snorting drugs and listening to music on full volume.

[voltrohgodwhat]

No context

[warmrainplease]

Feel like we haven’t talked about the existential horror of waking up in hell after death enough.

You wake up in a new body, with claws and fangs and even things like extra arms and only one eye, you’ve become a monster.

And while you’re coping with the fact that your body has been contorted and disfigured into something hellish and completely unrecognizable to you, you realize you don’t recognize fucking anything.

And you’re surrounded by demons. By imps and hellhounds and monstrous creature that fight and die and get drunk off their asses in broad daylight.

You’ve become a monster and you’re surrounded by monsters and you have absolutely no fucking clue where you are or what to do next and once you put the pieces together (you died, this must be hell) you realize that nobody, absolutely nobody, is going to help you.

[innytoes]

"My wife can stab me a little bit I don't care."

okay i need this but i don't know who from...... 😩

oh maybe some jubobby?!

Alfred The Cat verse. Set after the Haunted House Fic.

"You know, it's weird that someone who sees ghosts hates Halloween this much," Leo said, poking his head out of a kitchen cabinet next to the one she was rummaging through. She'd been cursing to herself about Reggie's over-abundance of autumnal mugs, trying to find one that wasn't shaped like a pumpkin or a ghost or what have you.

"Gah!" she exclaimed, nearly dropping Pumpkin Mug Number Four. At least the ghost had the decency to look kind of sheepish. "I get enough jump scares in my life, thank you."

Ever since Sunset Curve made it big and bought the creepy haunted murder-house they'd been renting, things had changed a little. Julie had moved in, officially.

Sunset Curve won a Grammy, on a song that Luke and Julie wrote together. Bobby proposed. They had the wedding in the garden, giving Tía an explanation about wanting to put down roots and make memories in their forever home, because 'our ghost friend is tied to the place he died and else he can't come' wouldn't fly.

They'd done some renovating, making sure to leave Leo's unmarked grave undisturbed. He'd been very adamant he was fine with them just pouring a slab of concrete over his remains to install a catio for Alfred. There was nobody to visit his grave anyway. That was why he'd been such easy pickings for the serial killer who used to live here.

Gertrude, the ghost of the woman who owned the house in the fifties, had passed on to the Other Side after passing on her famous scones recipe to her favourite 'adopted grandson', Reggie.

Which led to today.

With the renovations done, apparently her boys had decided this was the year they were going to win Best Halloween House In The Neighbourhood. Which wasn't even a real thing. There was no contest. There was no prize. But Reggie had insisted it was a real thing, and it was measured in how spooky your decorations were, how awesome your candy, and how happy you made the kids.

Obviously Julie didn't have the heart to argue with 'don't you want to make the kids happy, Julie?' Not to mention the puppy eyes of four musicians and a ghost.

So she said yes to the giant skeleton, and yes to the millions of decorative gourds, and yes to the fog machine and the 'spooky lights' and the creepy animatronic witch. She agreed to getting The Best Full Sized Candy Bars Ever for handing out, and hiding them from Luke. She even indulged the boys in their horror movie marathons, and Bobby stoically did not wince when she grabbed his arm so hard he had bruises the next day.

It was just that the last horror movie stuck with her. Especially today, what with it being a very stereotypical Dark and Stormy Night. Especially, especially because the guys had left the following morning for a series of concerts in New York, leaving her alone in a big, empty house with just an elderly cat and a ghost.

"We'll be back before Halloween," Bobby had promised. They video called every day, usually after the show, and he wisely never said anything about the amount of lights she had on.

"Come on, Halloween is fun! It's about dressing up in silly costumes and running around with your friends and getting free candy from strangers," Leo pointed out. "Which is honestly a terrible thing to teach children, now that I say it out loud."

"You just like it because you get to scare people who want to 'get a look at the murder house'," Julie said. And okay, it was pretty funny to see Leo scare the daylights out of troublesome tweens daring each other to touch the door.

"That too." Leo beamed. For a while, that had been the only contact he had with the living, until some 'entrepreneur' had bought the nearly derelict building, slapped some landlord beige on everything, and rented it out to some broke musicians.

"I like the cute parts of Halloween," Julie defended herself. "The candy and the pumpkin spice everything and little kids dressed up in costumes. I could just do without the horror stuff."

All of a sudden, all the lights in the house turned off.

"That isn't funny," she snapped at Leo.

"It wasn't me!" Leo said, raising his hands up in self defence. "It must be the storm."

Great. Just great. "Can you use your ghost powers to turn the lights back on?" she asked, hopeful.

"No?" Leo asked, confused. "Why would you think I could do that?"

"You can turn the TV on and off."

"I turn the TV on and off with the remote," Leo said, amused. "I think you need to... flip the breaker switch. Or something."

"Where even is the breaker switch?" Julie asked, and Leo unhelpfully shrugged. "Okay, I'm going to find some candles or something, so I don't stub my toe or anything trying to find it."

"Skill issue," Leo muttered, phasing through the table. "I'll check the laundry room."

The only candles she was able to find were Bobby's tea lights. They would have to do. She plopped one in a wine glass, holding it up by the stem as a make-shift torch. Leo came back to report the laundry room was a bust.

"Maybe it's in the hallway closet," Julie said, but Leo didn't seem to be listening anymore.

"Did you hear that?" he whispered, even though he was a ghost and nobody else could hear him.

"What?" Julie whispered back.

"I thought I heard someone."

"If this is a joke..." Julie started, but Leo shook his head, curls bouncing. He looked genuinely scared. She put her wineglass-light on the countertop.

"It's not! I heard something."

"Well, go look!" Julie hissed at him. He was a ghost, it's not like anyone could see him, or hear him. If someone had broken into their home...

"You go look!"

"You're a-"

"Hey, why's it so dark in here?" a voice asked, and Julie shrieked, grabbing the nearest utensil and thrusting it at the burglar.

Okay, so maybe when Luke, Reggie, and Alex called Bobby to see how surprising Julie turned out, and he picked up from the ER with a fork stuck in shoulder, they laughed harder than they should. Julie felt really, really bad. He'd been so worried about her, knowing she was creeped out being home alone.

Bobby, being Bobby, had just shrugged his non-forked shoulder. "My wife can stab me a little bit," he'd said. "I don't care."

And that was one of the many reasons why she'd married him.