#withdrawl
Note
"There are worse things"
"Kauri." It's Nat's voice behind him. He doesn't look up, just breathes deep where he hunches over the sink. Nausea rolls through him in wave after wave, cold sweat trickling down his temples, his neck, alongside his ribs.
His heart pounds, a terror entirely physical washing away everything but the panic, the adrenaline, the sense that any moment he will die from this.
He tightens his grip on the metal edge of the sink until his knuckles are white.
"Jus'..." He wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, but his hand is so sweaty and wet it doesn't feel like it helps at all. "Just give me a second, okay? Think I picked up a... a flu or something..."
Nat is quiet, but after a few moments he feels her hand rubbing his back, gently maternal. The scent of her perfume somehow doesn't make it worse. She has dark hair loose and wavy from having been in a braid before, and his blurry vision keeps wanting her to be someone else. Someone he doesn't know, can't know, because if he has to have a headache on top of this he might actually just give up and die.
"You should stop taking them," She says. She doesn't say what. She doesn't have to.
"Oh, don't worry about me. Once I get some more-" His stomach tightens suddenly and he shoves himself fully over the sink, but all that happens is a flood of sour spit and a dry sob. "... I'll-... I'll be fine." Is he panting? His words are airy, barely breathed.
"Kauri-"
"There are w-... worse things than this," Kauri manages, voice thin. She brushes a little hair back from his face. The sobbing comes again, but not dry this time.
This time, he finds tears.
His heart pounds so loud it drowns out everything else. He's going to die. He's going to die.
He left Owen and he sleeps with other men and he's going to die.
"Kauri-"
"Worse things... I've d-done them all. I mean, I did O-Owen, right?"
He laughs, but there's an edge of hysteria to the brittle sound, and his stomach twists again.
She rubs his back as his stomach roils and his muscles burn and his shirt sticks to him like Owen's eyes, and he knows once he feels better he'll head back out, climb the back fence, and he won't even say thanks before he goes.
He can disappear into a drink or a pill or powder or whatever he can find and maybe this time they'll tell him to not come back.
Maybe this time they'll see he doesn't deserve to come back.
-
@finder-of-rings @endless-whump @arlin-always-writing @thefancydoughnut @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @burtlederp @nonsensical-whump @whump-tr0pes @autophagay @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @hackles-up @grizzlie70 @mylifeisonthebookshelf @keeper-of-all-the-random-things
#erase to control#writing#bbu#box boy universe#box boy#sickfic#drug withdrawal#withdrawl#nausea tw#emeto#sickness#sick whumpee#drug use reference#kauri's poor life choices#drug use
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slept almost every night last week, now not so much - but keeping clean and trying to slowly quit having to take prescription benzos etc. being on unholy high dosages during so many years they now do fuck all but keep me from pretty much dying from withdrawl.
now down to only 2mg clonazepam (from 20mg) but im sick and been having insane panic attacks. ive gone off the 50mg/day xanax many times before as an addict, mostly inpatient to not die and i know it was horrible every time but this is different somehow, easier and harder at the same time with not needing it mentally/not needing it for the effect but its just weird when the physical addiction is the same when you really want to quit.
fuck me ive gone off so many different drugs so many times, after long time use, down, up, whatever and idk when i started to have these real horrible withdrawls experiences or if i just dont remember it being this weird before?
whatever i hate it and gonna go throw up now.
#crybaby#devilman crybaby#withdrawl#addiction#mental health#prescription drugs#clean#addiction recovery#recovering addict#fuck off
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I've been on a VegasPete kick (cause what else is new?) for a bit, and have found myself unsatissfied with a lot of the vegaspete playlists I come across either on spotify and youtube. Maybe I'm just too picky. I'm not saying there aren't songs in said playlists that I haven't added to my own vp playlist, but like can't we be a tiny bit more creative people. If I see Unholy or S&M once more, I'm gonna cry/scream/die, jury's still out on which. Hence why I have recommendations. Take note, this is an entirely opinion based post so don't get mad at me. Also I lean more toward rock/heavy metal/metal and shit, so if you ain't down with that, this ain't for you.
My recs as follows:
Practically anything in the Bad Omens discography. Their music is so good, but I have a few songs directly for Vegas and Pete that the lyrics are just 🤌
Vegas- Just Pretend, Bad Omens
Take Me First- Bad Omens
Pete- The Death of Piece of Mind
Also see by Bad Omens:
bad decisions
Like a Villian
IDWT$
Nowhere To Go
What do you want from me?
FERAL
Nothing More- You Don't Know What Love Means (either regular version or the one ft. Taylor Acorn depending on your mood)
Theory of a Deadman- Say Nothing
Banks- Waiting Game
Poets if the Fall- Carnival of Rust
Sleep Token- Dark Signs
Higher and Say That You Will
Practically their entire Take Me Back to Eden album
I would add a lot of Evanescence's music as well aside from like Bring to Life which I've seen on many playlists.
I might continue to add to the list if the mood so strikes me. I just needed to vent for now. Feel Free to add your own and continue the list.
#thai bl#i'm feral and you can't save me#kinnporsche the series#i'm deceased#vegaspete#withdrawl#music#musings of a crazy person#music recs#bad omens#heavy metal#metal#sleep token#pete kinnporsche#pete saengtham#vegas theerapanyakul#no thougts just vegaspete#i hate everything#playlist#playlist recs
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Me when ao3 is down
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I don't understand Andrew's medication at all. What the fuck are they? Anti-psychosis? Anti-depressants?? He takes them because hebeat up homophobes (like the icon he is) and the court found it disturbingly violent they said he needs to go to counseling and take meds (the counseling parts is actually a nice detail). And the pills make him manic?? Why would the court prescribe him pills that make him manic??? His behaviour is so much worse when he's on his meds so what's the point of them?
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Like a Monster Lurking (#22 Whumptober 2022)
Prompt: Toxic | Withdrawal | Allergic Reaction
Fandom: Star Wars- All Media Types, Star Wars - The Clone Wars (2008)
Pairing: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Addiction
Summary: But the truth of it was one that everyone in the GAR had to face.
They’d been trained to be ready for anything, at the expense of anything.
If you made it far into the war you learned quickly that there was only one way to keep up with the demands placed on you.
And stims were easy to come by.
Nobody thought anything of it when you ordered them in bulk and they were cheap, much cheaper than any other medication that would have helped the troopers to sleep or deal with trauma. It was easier just to keep them awake.
But now, living without them, Cody’s body didn’t feel like it was his.
--- Fic Under the Cut ---
It had been easy enough to hide at first.
There’d been so much to do after the war and no one had paid much attention to Cody or his vode. They’d been too busy trying to rally for clone freedom and reparations and war relief and refugee restrictions to think about anything other than the occasional ah yes them.
Soon though, Cody had started to have to come up with excuses.
“I’m just tired, General.”
“It’s cold without my blacks and armour. Regular clothes are strange.”
“I’m just…too used to things happening. Everything is slow these days and my body doesn’t want to stop for it.”
But the truth of it was one that everyone in the GAR had to face.
They’d been trained to be ready for anything, at the expense of anything.
If you made it far into the war you learned quickly that there was only one way to keep up with the demands placed on you.
And stims were easy to come by.
Nobody thought anything of it when you ordered them in bulk and they were cheap, much cheaper than any other medication that would have helped the troopers to sleep or deal with trauma. It was easier just to keep them awake.
But now, living without them, Cody’s body didn’t feel like it was his.
The shaking, and tiredness, and nausea had become a friend that he knew increasingly well and as the days went on, he was sure that he was functioning less and less.
And he knew that Obi-Wan was beginning to suspect something but what was he supposed to tell him?
That a whole army of troopers were addicts?
That Cody had allowed it to go on because there hadn’t been any way to end the war?
He wasn’t sure if Obi-Wan had known what was going on, that he would have thought the war more important than the troopers but he didn’t understand.
The troopers were expendable.
They’d been made to die in a war that they’d had nothing to do with starting and the only thing that had kept them going was the fact that they were protecting the one thing they did care about.
If they’d stopped, Obi-Wan might not have made it through the war.
Cody wouldn’t have been able to keep fighting if for some reason Obi-Wan had died and Cody hadn’t been right next to him for it.
If he’d lived for even a few seconds longer than Obi-Wan he would have never been able to live with himself.
He didn’t know how to tell Obi-Wan that.
A hand rested on his lower back and he realized that he was shaking again.
“Cody,” a soft voice said—a voice he would always know, no matter how much time had passed since it’d gotten him through the war—as he stepped next to him, “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” Cody asked, voice hoarse, “Everything is fine.”
There was a splitting ache in his head.
“I’m doing great.”
His hands were shaking so bad he’d shoved them in his pockets, even though he found it rude.
“Never better.”
He’d felt like he’d swallowed sand and his throat hurt with every syllable that left it.
“What are you doing here?”
Do you have to see me like this?
“I just thought I’d come stay with you for a bit,” Obi-Wan responded, sounding a little defeated, “You don’t mind, do you?”
Of course, he minded. He was sicker than he’d ever felt in his life and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking and his head felt like it was going to crack open and he-.
“Of course not, cyare,” Cody promised.
He’d rather deal with that for the rest of his life in silence than deny himself the chance to spend even a second next to Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan gave him a smile that made it worth it.
“Yeah? Thank you, Cody. The senate has been just unbearable today. I missed you,” Obi-Wan told him, leaning his head on Cody’s shoulder, pulling one of his hands free to lace their fingers together even as he frowned, “Your hands are freezing and sweating dear? Are you coming down with something? I can ask Vokara to take a look. She takes walk-ins you know.”
“It’s not that,” Cody said, licking his chapped lips with an equally dry tongue, “They were cold so I shoved them in my pockets but it made me sweat.”
“If you’re sure,” Obi-Wan said, sounding unsure himself.
“I’m sure,” Cody promised, “Everything is fine. Although I might take you up on that offer of Dex’s later. The last thing I feel like doing is cooking today. I could use some greasy food.”
He could feel Obi-Wan’s smile against his shoulder.
“Of course dear,” he said softly, “Anything you want. Does that mean you are staying at mine tonight?”
“If you don’t mind,” Cody echoed his sentiment.
“I don’t mind at all,” Obi-Wan said, pressing a kiss to Cody’s shoulder, “How do you feel about trying that thing I was talking about a few days ago?”
Cody felt like shit. But there wasn’t ever a time Obi-Wan would offer him touch and he’d say no.
“I think that I’d better bring some lube,” Cody said dryly, “Because I’m pretty sure we used the last of yours last time.”
“That was fun,” Obi-Wan agreed, “And you don’t mind being the… receiving member for it?”
Honestly, Cody couldn’t think of anything he’d want more.
Up until he’d found out that Obi-Wan had some particular biology, he’d always pictured the man on top of him.
It was nice to be on top of Obi-Wan.
But this…
“I think it’s a great idea,” Cody turned to whisper in Obi-Wan’s ear, even though his entire body felt like it was on fire.
Obi-Wan tilted his head so they could press their lips together.
And just like that, Cody had more time before he’d have to tell Obi-Wan the truth and ruin everything between them.
#whumptober2022#no.22#withdrawl#star wars#fic#addiction#nsfwhump#commander cody#obi-wan kenobi#codywan#star wars fanfiction#musicsoul1982 whumps
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When the heart develops through an entrainment with malnutrition, the soul’s diet is a source of conflict, as life progresses; for the palate of one’s emotional appetite becomes so disordered that binging on avoidance leads to psychic anorexia.
Zisa Aziza
#truths89#poetry#zisa aziza#attachment#avoidant#emotional#emotional anorexia#connection#neglect#trauma#maladaptive coping#isolation#withdrawl#disorganized#anxious#psychology#relationships#relational poverty#social determinants of health#negressofsaturn#love
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Jane’s Pets Pt. 38: Pick Your Poison
TWs in the tags
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Masterlist
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Toxic | Withdrawal | Allergic reaction
Dollie seemed to be doing a lot better, and Jane has finally taken Dollie off whatever drugs she was on. Dollie’s sick again.
She isn’t coughing up blood anymore, and she doesn’t have a fever anymore. But she’s always shaking and sweating, and she’s been vomiting.
Kit yelled at Jane again. “Withdrawal can kill people, you know! If you’re going to respond to illness with drugs that strong you can at the very least take her off them slowly!”
“Consider it a part of her punishment. That means less pain for you.” Jane said.
Jane hasn’t taken Dollie to the basement, yet. She’s probably going to wait until Dollie’s actually better to hurt her more.
It’s not a relief. It just means more anticipation. You know Jane could start hurting Kit or Dollie at any moment.
She could also start hurting you at any moment, but that’s slightly less likely. Kit convinced her to hurt them instead, earlier. You hope that still applies.
—
Dollie struggles to go on full walks, lately, so the three of you just sit outside in the sun when you can.
Jane has put Dollie back in charge of her chores, making it clear that she’ll be punished if she accepts help. That solves that mystery, then.
It’s painful to watch her try to do her chores while she’s still sick, but she does it without complaint. Not that she can complain…
Whenever she gets a chance, she sits outside with you and Kit. The sun and fresh air seem to help a little, though that also might just be the fact that when’s she’s outside she’s usually resting and when she’s inside she’s usually working. Her chores take a lot longer when she can’t stop shaking and has to run to the bathroom to throw up every hour.
Her tremors are less severe, right now, and her breathing is more even. She should be allowed to stay outside all the time, if it makes her feel better.
Actually, she should be in a hospital, or anywhere where she could safely go off the drugs Jane gave her. She should have trained professionals taking care of her, not two clueless friends and the person who hurt her in the first place. But she can’t have that, so you just do the best you can. You read to her and hug her and try to reassure her.
Kit helps by reminding Jane that Dollie could die. They do it often, and though Jane always rolls her eyes, it seems to help, because Jane gives her permission to eat and drink and sleep more often.
Dollie rests on your shoulder, shaking, shaking, shaking. Sweat soaks into your shirt. You squeeze her hand.
Seemingly out of nowhere, she starts wheezing. Hives break out on her skin, and her face swells. She’s choking, she’s choking!
“JANE!” Kit screams. Jane appears instantly, first next to Kit, then next to Dollie after she realizes what’s going on. She sticks something into Dollie’s thigh, and her breathing starts to even out. The hives and swelling recede.
“You’re drugging her again? That’s what caused this whole thing in the first place!” Kit scowls.
“Adrenaline is how you treat anaphylaxis, idiot. That was an allergic reaction. You’re normally not this stupid, Kitty.” Jane runs her fingers through Dollie’s hair. “Probably a bee sting. Poor Puppy, I’ll bet your skin already felt like it was crawling. Didn’t even notice… I think you should stay inside for a while.”
Dollie leans into Jane’s touch.
“Come on, get up. Have you done all your chores today? Besides dinner.”
Dollie slowly gets to her feet and nods.
“Good girl. Go rest on the couch for a bit. Sometimes one shot of adrenaline isn’t enough, so I’ll have to keep an eye on you for a bit. I’ll fix dinner.”
Jane always has someone else make the meals. Her deciding to make it herself can’t mean anything good.
—
Jane didn’t even try to hide that she fucked with the food. There’s a bottle with a bold label reading “TOXIC” still sitting on the counter. The mac ‘n cheese she made smells and looks wrong.
“I’m not hungry.” You say, heading to your room.
“I don’t care!” Jane appears in front of you. “You’re not eating anything else until you eat this. You can try to hold out, and end up eating it when it’s going bad, or you can eat it now. Those are your choices. Pick your poison!”
“We didn’t do anything.”
“You need a reminder of who’s in charge. Eat. You too, Puppy.”
Dollie gets up off the couch and sits at her place at the table. She eats without hesitation.
You sigh. Better to get it over with. It’s another obedience test, and eating something gross is better than some of the other things she could have you do.
“You’d think you’d be better at cooking with thousands of years of practice…” Kit mutters.
“I think I did much better than you could’ve done, working with poison. Eat, Kitty.”
You force the food down your throat as fast as possible, trying to avoid tasting it. That’s probably not a good strategy with something you know is poison, but you don’t have the willpower to eat it slowly.
—
The three of you are very sick all night. Jane graciously provided buckets for you to vomit into. Besides the stomach pain, you feel weak and dizzy, and there’s no one to help because the others are sick too. You all deal with the same thing all alone. Except Dollie. It’s probably worse for her, with the poison on top of the withdrawal. You can’t imagine it being worse. This is the worst pain you’ve ever been in.
You didn’t even do anything. She couldn’t be bored, she has a future punishment for Dollie to look forward to.
She might be mad at Kit. They’ve been very openly snarky to her. But wouldn’t she just make that against the rules, if she wanted them to stop?
You don’t understand how Jane thinks, and you don’t think you ever will.
A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else!
Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @ghostsinthecloset
#whumptober2022#no. 22#pick your poison#toxic#withdrawl#allergic reaction#oc#original content#fic#emeto tw#there’s a lot of that#discussions of torture tw#poison tw#torture tw#noncon drugging tw#drugging tw#whump#whump writing#whumpblr#intimate whumper#creepy whumper#nonhuman whumper#multiple whumpees#pet whump#whumpee#whumper#caretaker#2nd person pov#jane’s pets
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I hate trying to find people to write with and then we get talking and we click but then when it comes time to start the story I get ghosted. Like what the hell. They come on, read my message I sent, then vanishes again for however many days. I just want to write why is it so hard to find a decent, attentive person with the same writing drive as me? Istg it feels like everyone has a low writing Lobito and I’m here wanting to pump out novels.
#roleplay#this is so difficult#ragtagrunaways#shitpost#apocolyptic#storyline#storyboard#writing#discord rp#book rp#mature rp#sleep deprived writing#withdrawl
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After a no sleep for days n panic qttacks benzo and heroin withdrawl n a cutting relapse also not eating for days I find my tormented soul only finds quite in nightwalking aimlessly In empty places with my music as loud as possible so I don't feel observed all the time by people who have no idea how I work. I can pretend I'm the last person alive on earth. That things will be ok
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Thank you Tumblr dash for what you have given me today 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼
#thai bl#kinnporsche the series#i'm feral and you can't save me#kinnporsche#withdrawl#disaster#disaster himbo#porsche#porsche kinnporsche#porsche kittisawasd
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Whumptober day 22: Pick Your Poison
Fandom: Be More Chill
Prompts;
Toxic
Withdrawal
Allergic reaction
Oof haven't been here since off broadway ocr… uh this ones pretty short and could be triggering so. Read with care.
He takes the pill.
He takes that damn pill.
He loses everything he knew.
He gains some things he hadnt known.
He learns what he hadn't thought to learn.
But mostly, he suffers silently in the wake of suffering he caused, because he deserved it. He deserved everything.
Everything about me is so terrible.
Everything about me makes me want to die.
…
Jeremy shivers, reaching blindly for the covers he'd thrown off a moment ago. His joints object to the movement, his head screaming as its jostled from its hidden position in the pillow. He sniffles pitifully- gods dont think of that worddontthink- getting hot the minute the sheets touch his feet and groans. He slumps back down, wondering if some pizza would help his mood, only for the minute hunger to turn to churning nausea, his eyes get teary as he mutters angrily into his pillow.
Maybe he should have taken a page out of Riches book, done something to put himself in a coma so he didnt have to deal with the effects. But then again, maybe Rich didnt have these, maybe this was part of his punishment. As far as he knew no one else had either, but that was only when he could stand to look at his phone.
It made sense, his SQUIP had been… intense. To fix him it had to do a lot of work, so the symptoms of not having it anymore would be intense too.
Except, it wasnt quite gone was it.
Another reason to keep his face in his pillow. The glitching blue blur across the room- with piercing eyes that glare into his soul- has continued to slowly make his way closer everytime Jeremy has peeked out. His voice glitches quietly in the back of his mind, repeating his past lessons or his name. Its nothing new, nothing he doesnt know, nothing thats not true. But gosh is it annoying as hell.
His head throbs something fierce, hasnt let up since before the play- though it hadnt been rainbows then either- and at times it got ten times worse and left him in a worse state. The blue glow only he can see stabs into his eye and straight through his head. Bile rises in his throat, as dots dance in his vision, and another wave of bone heavy exhaustion weighs his limbs down. If his body would just have one symptom at a time, he'd handle it better he's sure.
Not that he deserved to handle it better.
Im such a slob, terrible
Everything about me sucks
Nerdiness is Ugly
Such a chore
Pathetic
The next time he opens his eyes the light in the room has changed, and the SQUIP is right in front of him, glitching terribly.
"I want some peanut butter." The voice sounds like his own.
He blinks, the lights similar but slightly different, he really wants some peanut butter.
He never liked the smell, made his throat tingle, so he'd stayed away from the stuff. But if he was craving it…
Yeah, he wanted some peanut butter.
He hears a familiar jingle-
He really wants some peanut butter.
Standing up is a chore-
Stammerings a chore.
His fingers twitch as a chill runs down his spine, he flips his hair on instinct as his very brain shivers.
Your ticks and fidgets are persistent and your charm is non-existent…
He shuffles awkwardly down the hall, swaying this way and that as the world warps around him and darkness edges his vision now and again. The stairs are a looming task, literally taking them one at a time as each step sends his brain for a loop.
There's a note on the counter, his dad's scratchy handwriting there- where's the peanut butter?
He pulls out a big spoon, and the jar from the pantry, popping the lid off. His throat feels weird as he gets a whiff, and he swears his stomach flips but he
Wants
Some
Peanut butter.
He scoops a large glob, and sticks it in his mouth before he makes the choice, almost as if his arm had moved on its own. His spine tingles, wrists ache- everything hurts
He's on the ground.
He can't breathe.
Why can't he-
Help!
Everything about me makes me want to die.
He deserves this.
He's terrible.
Everything is his fault.
If he called for help, it would just annoy everyone anyway. Why would they want to help him? When he almost ruined their lives.
"If I have to go, I'm taking you with me Jeremy."
A door opens somewhere, but he is silent as he twitches on the ground, air barely breaching his windpipe, his lungs begging for more that won't come. And all the while
He smells of peanuts.
"JEREMY!"
"JeEeEeReeMmmEyyyy"
"Just hold on."
#whumptober2022#no.22#toxic#withdrawl#allergic reaction#be more chill#fic#intrusive thoughts#withdrawl symptoms#assisted attempted suicide#angst#open ending#michael to the rescue#implied#jeremy angst#evil squip
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30-ish and Quitting: My Journey to Better Health
30-ish and Quitting: My Journey to Better Health
Throughout my twenties I always told myself it’s fine, just quit before you’re 30. I of course knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but that was a bridge I would cross when I got to it. Well, I got to it, and I turned right around and thought now just isn’t the right time.
I have made a couple half-hearted attempts this year and made it two or three days, but once things got stressful, I would start…
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