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#tw drug mention??
strongermonster · 2 years
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high as fuck and it's the middle of a thunderstorm so i was outside standing in the rain to enjoy the Sensations as one does, and the neighbours chickens were also out (Worm Time) and let me tell u. soaking wet chickens are unrecognizable as any living animals. when i looked down and saw basically this at my feet in the half dark
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i nearly shit myself
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incorrectbatfam · 15 days
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Bruce: Why do you smell like weed?
Jason: How do you know what weed smells like?
Bruce: I—
Jason: Aha, busted! You're grounded for a week!
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corndog-patrol · 9 months
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and it went down in history as the fattest bong rip of all time
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zibiscusloon · 10 months
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This mf went and got the crown Prince of Briar Valley high while making omelets wtf is wrong with them
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pileofmush · 8 months
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luffy is for the sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitches. the ones who shiver at the mere brush of skin. who wince whenever their friends go in for hugs, unsure of where to put their arms. the ones who are so, so aware of their proximity to others. so careful not to brush fingers when walking side to side with a peer, or when handing a pencil to a friend, because they’re sure that one affectionate squeeze of the arm could leave their innards a puddle at their feet, creeping toward the nearest drain.
when you meet luffy, you think he’s one to be admired, not touched. you see the way he infects everyone around him with his reckless abandon. hanging off shoulders and dragging people to and fro. his crewmates are used to it. they scoff and wiggle under his weight for show: for there’s a sense of relief when monkey d. luffy has his eyes on you. you can tell in the automatic decompression of their shoulders, in the languid way they turn to him—saplings curving toward the sun. 
you see it, and you envy it. respect it. respect him. but that’s the extent of your thoughts on the matter.
you never considered that he would turn his sights on you. 
but he does. 
he picks you up like you’re something shiny, holds you up to the light and squints. and whatever he finds must be satisfying, because after that, he doesn’t put you down. 
it overwhelms you, at first. he tugs on your cheek at the sight of a frown, like you’re the one made of rubber, and your heart does a funny jig that’s actually not funny at all. he pokes you in the ribcage to grab your attention, and ignores you when you try to tell him that a verbal cue would work just as well. he grabs your hand, instinctively twining your fingers, and pulls you along when you stop in your tracks.
and you feel—you feel like a puddle. be careful your mind warns, or you’ll slip.
but luffy’s there to catch you when you fall.
and that’s what’s so terrible about him, you think. he’s the question and the answer. 
and he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 
how foolish of him to touch you so casually and expect you not to revel in it. not to crave his pokes and his prods more than you crave air. how foolish of him to drape himself over you like a weighted blankie and not expect you to desire him by your side, always, to keep the cold at bay. he’s a fool and you’re a pauper.
but, sometimes, you think he knows what he does to you. he has to. oh, how he’ll laugh when he catches you staring at his hands. bound over until he’s right in front of you, place a thumb under your chin and tilt until your gaze meets his. his eyes are dark, but so, so bright. you want to look away. you don’t. 
everything is so easy for him. it's unnerving. he plops his head in your lap one day with a carefree grin. you still—hold your breath like a child playing hide and seek. he cracks open an eye, like he can read your thoughts. or maybe he can just feel you tremble.
“what’s wrong?”
you rack your brain for an answer he could understand. “what do you want me to do?” you hedge. 
luffy furrows his brows. “whatever you want,” he says.
“no, i mean—where do you want me to touch?” 
he shrugs. “wherever you want.”
and you feel—you feel like you want to run your hands over every inch of his skin until you have a mental map of his body you could navigate through touch alone. you want to put him in your mouth. you want to inhale him like a drug, want him to burn the back of your throat 'til it stings. you want… him. 
you settle for caressing his jawline. tracing the slope of his nose. his eyes flutter shut, and you pause, but he grabs your hand and plants it firmly on his face. and it feels, it feels like you’re the question and he’s the answer. it feels like maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with becoming a puddle of a person, for him. 
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enigmajaython · 1 year
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I tried to hold out but I needed everyone to look at this
Og meme under cut
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surilovesbones · 19 days
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"Como você quer vencer na vida, sendo que vc perde pra um prato de comida?"
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hanasnx · 5 months
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MINORS DNI 18+
Your current boyfriend used to be the jock that shoved emo-freak SAM MONROE into lockers. And now Sam’s got you moaning his name while his skinny boy cock rearranges your insides. Who needs all that muscle when you’ve got a sleep-deprived pill-popping grunge cunt destroyer filling up the empty space in your bed? Is he doing this to get back at your soon-to-be-ex? No. He’s always loved you. Always wanted you. Looked after you in envy while you were with that air-headed football player. He’s only got the confidence to fuck you now though. He’ll worry about his future broken nose later. Currently, all that matters is getting you to squirt all over the mattress so his old bully comes home to soaked sheets that smell of sweet betrayal.
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artistoons-blog-thing · 3 months
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This painted such a vivid image in my head
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tottallytoby · 2 months
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they drink together often
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incorrectbatfam · 7 days
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Welcome to Gotham, the greatest city in the world, where we have smells like:
• Exhaust fumes
• Chemical waste
• Eggs
• Weed
• A porta potty at Lollapalooza
• Batburger fryer grease
• Day-old opened beer
• Anime convention BO
• Strangely alluring flowers
• Something burning
• Microwaved fish
• Corpses
• Sewage
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fisheyezzz · 3 months
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bro okay
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og
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avephelis · 3 months
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just troll with it au. because riptide killed my theythemma okay.
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frownyalfred · 22 days
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Just imagining the JL looks of confusion when Batman and Green Arrow know something very very specific drug related thing because they went to this one party together that got very very weird and very very illegal back in their late teens early 20s, just going back and forth making obscure references to this party and the others are just wtf is happening right now
And they’re so matter of fact about it too! “You can’t do coke like that” “a Bulgarian threesome always has an optional fourth partner” “actually that one is way more effective if you crush it up first and then—”
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faeriekit · 13 days
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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.
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