I’ve noticed there’s not a lot of posts on how to incorporate weed into witchcraft! I’ve had a few fellow stoner witchlings ask for a post as well and I feel comfortable making this post because I’m a certified botanist. I’m sorry if it’s a little unorganized, I got high to write it.🔥🌿 Please, only read this if you’re okay with the topic of drug use and remember to smoke responsibly, make sure you research specific strains! Also, I’m sorry this is long af.
Where Do I Even Begin? I use cannabis as a way to induce a state of relaxation and meditation. For me, it helps me clear my head and focus my intention.Let’s start with the different strains of weed and which kind of witchcraft they support the best.
Indicatends to be sedative, and gives a body high. This type of marijuana will provide a very relaxing and strong body high that is helpful in treating general anxiety, body pain, and sleeping disorders. As a spoonie this is what I most often smoke to ease pain and nausea, just as a heads up to other people looking for relief. The most popular Indica strains currently include Kush, Northern Lights, and White Widow. My recommendation is Purple Kush or Northern Lights. This is great for self-love spells, protection, divination, healing, and stress-reducing spells or rituals.
Sativa -dominant marijuana strains tend to have a more grassy type odor to the buds providing an uplifting, energetic and “cerebral” high that is best suited for daytime smoking. A sativa high is one filled with creativity and energy as being high on sativa can spark new ideas and creations. This is great for glamour spells, love spells, hexes, curses, and other high energy spells.
But honestly, just do whatever makes you feel good and makes you happy, your well-being and comfort should be the most important thing in your practice. Please smoke responsibly
That’s Cool But What Else? You can definitely mix certain herbs and flowers with your weed! Just pop a couple petals or buds in your grinder with your weed. Please, be careful that you don’t smoke something toxic and do your research. Some flowers are toxic to humans and a few are deadly. Below you’ll find a list of things you can smoke and their properties and why you cannot smoke because sometimes it’s hard to find information online. Note: Please, don’t smoke any of the below if you are nursing or pregnant.
Yarrow is a mild stimulant and has anti-inflammatory properties, it’s great for soothing pain in the lungs and throat. It can cause allergic reactions.Courage, Love, Enlightenment
Blue Lotus use as a sleep aid, as a natural anti-anxiety remedy, and as a stress reliever. Blue Lotus contains nuciferan (a natural anti-spasmodic) along with aporphine, which will give you feelings of calming euphoria. It is important you smoke only the petals. Lunar, Protection, Divination, Prosperity
Wormwood can also be used as a light anaesthetic. It is commonly used to give relief to menstrual cramps and muscle pains. It is also being used as a remedy for common cold, tapeworm, headaches, and nausea. It’s also used as an aphrodisiac, this is not for extended or frequent use. It can cause allergic reactions. Psychic Powers, Protection, Love, Calling Spirits
Lavender can be use as a sleep aid, as a natural anti-anxiety remedy, and a stress reliever. Sleep, Happiness, Peace, Cleansing, Protection, Love.
St. John’s Wart in very small portions. I’d rather you didn’t do it at all but it’s technically legal so I’m listing it St. John’s Wort may be a natural herb but it does have quite a few side effects. Before you start using it, consult your doctor first if you are taking medications that can negatively interact with St. John’s Wort. It can effect how well certain medications work including birth control, mood-stabilizers, and anti-depressants. On the other hand, St. John’s Wart is a mood-stablizier, so if you’re not on any medications and feel a little anxious smoking some could indeed help. The most common side effects are dizziness, nausea, digestive problems, tiredness, dry mouth, and sun sensitivity. Health, Protection, Strength, Love, Divination.
Rose petals, white sage leaves, rosemary, wormwood, mint leaves, marshmallow root, catnip, meadowsweet, and passionflower. I know there’s more I’m missing but these are the one’s I suggest!
Please don’t smoke(if it’s in bold it’s really bad): Yew, Sandal Wood, Mistletoe, Periwinkle, Dogbane, Orange/Lemon Peels, and Dragon’s Blood. Those are the major one’s people tend to ask about.
Fun Witchy Things To Do With Pot:
I like to blow smoke rings and use them as casting circles for cleansing energy. When they break apart and the smoke starts to blanket the room I know it’s absorbing all the negative energy from my home!
If you use a bubbler you can read the bottom like tea leaves! It’s a bit of hoot.
Incorporate the weed strains name into your magick! When I’m working with Freyja I often smoke Northern Lights because in Norse Mythology they represented the valkyries. And who doesn’t want to be bad ass? I smoke Purple Haze to bring in positive energy. Be creative! You know your practice the best. 💜
Incorporate the pipe into your practice. On Samhain, I smoke out of apples because it makes me feel extra witchy and closer to Hel. Also, you can carve sigils or names into an apple! You can use color correspondences or whatever floats your little balloon.
Ashes!! Don’t throw away your ashes! Use them in binding spells, protection spells, or black salt. But if you’re a gardener plants love the ashes! Mix it in with plant food or just sprinkle some on top of them once a week! ( I personally swear by this, eggshells, coffee beans, and lavender salt.)
Cleanse your pipe, it’s the least you can do for all it does for you. I like to leave mine out under the full moon to cleanse and just smoke an apple instead with carved intentions to cleanse my home. (I use weed for everything, I’m sorry.)
Charge your water if you’re using bubbler, bong, vape, etc. Moon water is totally awesome in this situation and so is rose water! I personally love using rose water but please don’t use store bought rose water. It’s often simmered water and essential oils. You can make your own rose water by putting some petals (dried or fresh) into a saucepan and let it simmer, do not let it boil, when the petals lose their color it’s done. Press the remaining amount of rose from the petals with paper towels into the water!
When you inhale the smoke, visualize that you’re bringing in the good energy and all the properties of your bowl, let the smoke absorb all your negative energy and release it! I like to have an incense or candle going if I’m breathing out the bad. 😅
Charge your weed with crystals. Every time I get a new batch of weed I put a piece of rose quartz in with it and let it cleanse my weed of any negative energies it might have collected from previous owners.
Blow smoke out of your face like a dragon???
I hope this is helpful in some way! If I’m missing anything please let me know! 💖🌿💨
Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.
Warning(s): Suicide attempt?? , depression, mental illness’, mixture of fluff and angst throughout the series, homophobic slurs
A/N: Hi!! welcome to part 1 of IDK HOW MANY but ayy!! Honestly, i’M MAKING A TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES SO IF ANYONE WHO DOESN’T WANNA FOLLOW ME OR WANTS TO BE NOTIFIED JUST ASK!!
Richie Tozier brought the cigarette between his lips, letting the toxic smoke fill his decaying lungs and pulse throughout his insides and swirls around in each crevice of his body. He then takes away the cancer stick, after a moment blowing out the toxic waste into the thin November air.
Beverly Marsh raised an eyebrow at him, sitting across from the much taller boy on the brick wall with her own cigarette between her fingers. She watched as the smoke faded into nothing, sighing lightly as she proceeded to watch her best friend smoke away.
A/N: Are you ready for the longest blowjob in history… (I don’t own the gif)
“Did it hurt?” Sam approached you, a sly smirk on his lips.
When you didn’t play along and simply shot him an unimpressed look, he snickered.
“…when you fell from Heaven.”
Yeah, you were dressed as an angel.
Not your idea, though. As it turned out, Wanda was a big fan
of Mardi Gras and begged until you all agreed to throw a costume party. Tuesday
morning, she shoved a white dress into your arms and said you were an angel.
You didn’t want to upset her, so you just rolled with it.
Sam laughed at his own joke before the smell of pancakes
drew his attention away from you. You looked around the room and sighed,
sipping your second glass of… whatever it was Natasha had given you. It was
good, a bit fruity and bitter enough to match your mood.
Wanda, who was dressed as Violet from the Incredibles, was
running around the living room, filling plates with pancakes. Loud music
blasted through the speakers.
A lot of people are noting how humans thrive in extreme weather or among scary predators. But what if we also have a startling resistance to radioactive waste and other toxic pollution? Maybe all the other sentient people out there ditched fossil fuels long before achieving space flight, or never tried out nuclear power because they decided it was just batshit insane. Then they encounter humans, coming from a planet that looks like a hazardous waste dump. Toxic chemicals saturate the soil, water and air; the plants and animals get more and more poisonous as you move up the food chain. Huge amounts of nuclear waste are just sitting underground in barrels, and there are radioactive zones so deadly even the HUMANS stay out.
Imagine a human coming out of a ship reactor core accident or whatever just…shrugging?! Or navigating a ruin full of smoke or toxic gas with nothing more than a bandana over their face like, “Meh, it’s not nearly as bad as that month in Shanghai. I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face!”. And meanwhile all the aliens are freaking out like WHY AREN’T YOU DEAD? WHY DO YOUR LUNGS STILL FUNCTION? GET THIS GUY A FULL DETOX IMMEDIATELY THERE ARE RADIOACTIVE ISOTOPES IN HIS BLOODSTREAM!!
You sat combing your wet hair in the bathroom as drops of water from the faucet still echoed throughout, breaking the eerie silence. You allowed the comb to weave and untangle the messy locks of your hair before you hung the towel back up on its rack. With a sigh, you turned back towards the mirror, which was now fogging slightly. Your eyes were tired and your face lacked its usual perky smile, for its existence had long been faded. The water drops ceased, leaving you in silence once more, a sound you were far too accustomed to in recent times.
Newt had been spending so much time away in his habitats recently, and it was beginning to have a negative effect on you. You knew in your heart that the beasts were important to him, they were important to you as well, but he had spent days working constantly on his book, and you longed for some sort of affection besides a brief hug or kiss every now and then. Even now he was hard at work inside of his case, probably watching the occamies again since they had just hatched.
All you wanted was some attention, a sign that he was still there. The two of you had been dating for about a year or so now, and you thought he still loved you. If he did, then he wasn’t showing it or even really making an attempt to. You felt a dull throbbing ache in your chest on a daily basis. It often worsened as you prepared breakfast by yourself in your empty kitchen with nothing but a light jazz record to accompany you, or when you would end up falling asleep in a cold bed, only to wake up the next morning in the same state. You just needed someone to love, someone to talk to. By now you were starting to wonder as to what would happen if you just disappeared, if you just vanished into thin air or ceased to exist. He didn’t really need you anyways. If anything you stood in his way, he could easily live without you.
You readjusted your sweater collar before unlocking the door and heading out into the main room, only to stop in your tracks at the sight before you.
Newt was standing in your shared bedroom doorway, holding what appeared to be a worn blue notebook.
‘Oh no,’ you thought as a wave of anxiety washed over your form. You wanted to shrink away into a darkened hole and never come back out.
Newt stood slightly hunched over as he flipped through the pages of the notebook. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, shock, and hurt. What he didn’t know is that this notebook just so happened to be the one where his love wrote all of their deepest and darkest feelings. Tear stains and ink splotches dotted the page margins and creased lay darkened. His oceanic eyes scanned each word, stabbing his heart with a jagged knife. The entries all varied, but each had been written with a common theme.
October 2, 1925
Today I am feeling more lonely than usual, and the feeling itself is rather unsettling. I’m trying to occupy myself, but I still think that the pain would subside if Newt were here. However, I can’t interrupt is work, even though he’s been so busy with it. Sometimes I wish he would just take a break for once…
October 19, 1925
Another empty bed, and another sleepless night.
October 27, 1925
Newt and I got into a small disagreement today, and we haven’t spoken for a bit. I hope our relationship, or whatever is left of it, can survive. He’s been a bit more distant, and I know that he’s off working on his novel, but I really do miss him. Sometimes I wonder if he would be happier if I were gone, so that he could maybe be with someone else who isn’t as annoying or clingy or stupid. Maybe he can find another pretty and kind person to snuggle up to at night.
I wonder if he still cares or thinks about me. I prepared his favorite tea, hoping he would come back up for dinner, but he didn’t. I miss him, but I guess I can’t interrupt him.
He paused, and then looked at the most recent entry, which was dated to yesterday.
November 3, 1925
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I know he doesn’t hate me, but I can’t take being alone anymore. Maybe he’s purposely avoiding me, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t talk or hug or kiss me as much as he used to. If I had been better or smarter, or perhaps more beautiful would he have stayed? Am I that annoying and hard to be around to the point where my own boyfriend may not love me anymore?
Newt wasn’t able to make it through the final passage. It stung his heart and eyes too much. Sobs were choked back as his hands began to shake violently out of anger, not really towards you, but towards himself. Just then, a thud brought him back out of his thoughts.
You had accidentally dropped the comb in your hand, causing it to create a sound causing Newt’s worries and concerned expression to face towards you. He closed the book softly as if it were fashioned out of glass and he moved towards you. Your heartrate and breathing raced in panic as the world swirled around you.
Newt was probably furious, angry and packed with rage that you thought or said things like that about him, and not even towards his face. You had been selfish, he was only trying to write his book, but oh no, you had to be a pathetic person and desire attention at all hours of the day. You wanted to rip your hair out and scream, as you felt slightly betrayed that he had found the book from its hidden space under your side of the bed and read it, scanning over each word with his own two crystal eyes. You feared his reaction. If your relationship wasn’t over yet, it soon would be for sure. His eyes and face were already turning red and you braced yourself for the worst. You prepared for him to scream and yell and spit words furiously at you. You expected a full blown fight like never before. Your heart shattered into smaller remains, stabbing you from the inside out and pricking your chest. Your lungs became filled with toxic smoke, and all you needed was oxygen, but its freedom was nowhere to be found. You feared for darkness. You feared for a dark storm cloud. You feared for hell itself as you shut your eyes and covered your waterfalls of flowing tears with your tingling and shaking hands.
The darkness never came, but was instead, replaced with a warm embrace. The icy atmosphere and tension were slowing thawing away, like winter into spring as daisies and daffodils began to sprout through the last frost.
Newt had started to cry, and not just a few tears, but audible bawling surrounded by pain and aches. His voice was strangled, like someone was clutching his throat, forbidding speech from escaping his lips. His freckles glistened from the rivers that passed over them. He held you as if trying to keep all of your pieces together before sinking to the ground with you still in his arms. By now, all of the emotions and tears that had been locked up in your caged heart for weeks began to escape through the cracks, and your body trembled. Newts hand held your head as the coolness of your damp hair splashed onto his hands and cheeks, mixing with his salty tears.
“Y/n, why in the name of bloody Merlin didn’t you tell me that y-you felt like t-this? Why m-my darling? W-why!?” he choked out loudly, as he was now cross with himself for making you revel in this much pain and suffering for so long. He wasn’t wearing his coat, but he was still warm, as opposed to your shivering and shaking body.
“I-I didn’t want to bother you. Besides Newt, w-we’re so distant now.”
“Darling we aren’t that distant though-,”
“Newt when was the last time we had any time together huh? When was the last time you said I love you like you genuinely meant it?”
Newt opened his mouth to speak, but words didn’t come out. Instead another round of tears followed as he still continued to hold you as if you were going to disappear away from him.
“I am the shittiest boyfriend to ever live. Y/n I’m so sorry that I’ve d-done this to you, you must hate me! I don’t deserve you, oh what have I done! I’ve broken you. I need to fix you, How can I fix you!?” he panicked, and all he wanted to do was capture your lips, but he knew he shouldn’t cross that line right now. Hell, he may not even be able to call himself your boyfriend after this.
Your sobbing mixed with the sound of his, and you didn’t mean to sound so angry or snappy. Carefully, you brought your thumb under his eye to wipe a tear stream away, the touch causing him to look up from where he had buried his face in your chest.
“N-Newt?” you asked in a silenced whisper and almost ghostlike.
“Yes m-my dar-, yes Y/n?” he responded, pausing before he could say the word ‘darling’ as he wasn’t sure if he deserved the allowance to do so.
“Do you still love me?”
Newt’s heart crashed and splintered, like glass thrown against a wall. This was all his fault. He made you feel this way, he made you feel unloved and undesirable. This was all his doing, and he had been so involved in his life and where it was going that he didn’t realize that he was harming himself in the process.
“Of c-course I do. I love you so much Y/n. a simple apology won’t m-m-make this go away, I know that. But love I am sorry, I am so sorry that I have put you through this hell. I understand if you don’t love me though, I wouldn’t love me either right n-now.”
The notebook was long discarded as you pulled yourself closer into Newt’s chest, which began to rise and fall irregularly from all of his painful sobs. He reacted by grabbing your waits and pulling you closer and shielding you, as if he needed to protect your from the world.
“I still love you Newt.”
“Of course, I was just upset, and it was my fault anyway-,”
“Don’t even finish that sentence Y/n. This had nothing to do with you. I was the idiot who was too stupid and blind to see that my own darling was suffering alone. I love you my dear and I’ll do anything and everything to fix this, please. Please Y/n I can’t lose you. This is all my fault and I can only hope that you’ll forgive me.”
Your breathing had begun to fall back to a normal rate, and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a gentle, yet still desired kiss. Newt hesitated to kiss back at first, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was scared of hurting you more. His lips smoothed over yours and sweetly massaged against yours, as the passion within him ignited. He held onto you still, afraid that you would break if he let you go. Your hand graced his stubble, and he brushed his hand through your wet hair, sending a shiver down both of your spines. He began to move his hands back down to your waist to scoop you up into his firm arms, and this movement made you break the kiss.
“Newt what are you doing?”
He kissed your lips again, shuffling the notebook away as it slid across the floor.
“I’m taking my love for some alone time.”
“No, this is long overdue, and I was an idiot. You deserve this, and I shouldn’t have made you hurt like I did. Now please, I need you in my arms right now, I need to show you how much I love you.”
You pressed your head against his chest and you nodded sleepily, as the emotional breakdown had worn you out a bit. Newt noticed and kissed you hair before proceeding to wrap you in a blanket from off of your shared couch. His heartbeat echoed in your ears, as it began to lull you into an aura of comfort once more.
The two of you may have hit a bumpy road, but the two of you were strong. He didn’t mean to hurt you, you understood that, and you knew that everything would be okay. You heard him mutter an ‘I love you’ as he carried and set you onto your shared bed before he curled up next to you. His arms wrapped around you after he kicked his boots off, and the two of you made up for lost cuddles as you each dozed off on the protection of each other.
Summary: After Steve taking care of your fragile state after being assaulted, you had promised him you would tell your father Tony. However, Tony returns from his trip the next day and you don’t tell him for over three days. What will Steve do?
Warning(s): Mentions of rape / sexual assault, swearing, depression, flashbacks of rape/events before rape (it italics), heavy angst, this is quite long im sorry
A/N: I’m blown away by the amount of requests for part 2 and for this to be a series! Thankyou! As this was my first fanfiction on this site I didn’t expect such an overwhelming amount of support! I love you all for that and thankyou for every reblog/heart! If you would like to be tagged or if you’d like to request more parts / different imagines, please message meHERE.
You walked towards the destination that your friend was guiding you too over iMessage, your heels clicking against the large stoned floor below you. You decided to take a short cut for the night, as your friend heavily suggested. New York was usually busy on a Friday night after all and you were already running late to your high school reunion as it was.
Your (H/C) was curled and bounced with each step you took as you wore dark blue skinnies, black heels and a low cut black bodysuit which melded under your jeans perfectly- followed up with a leather jacket to coat any revealed skin.
You were stunning.
The streetlights lit up your path as you kept your phone in your palm to read the directions over in your brain.
However, to your luck of being a Stark- droplets of rain soon began to soak the ground.
A groan of annoyance slipped from your cherry lips, before holding your handbag and phone between your thighs and sliding your jacket off, holding it above your head to protect your hair and body from the harsh rain.
You quickly sorted yourself out, placing your phone back in your free hand and keeping your handbag under your arm as you picked up a quick, careful pace throughout the private street of New York city.
“Of fucking course.” You cursed, shaking your head as it began to get hard to see the signs of which road was which. You stopped in the path, wiping the splatters of water that had landed on your mobile device in order for you to see if your friend was leading you the correct way.
“You seem lost darling.” A gruff voice spoke from the side of you.
You turn your head to see a man, about 6′3 with an average weight. He had black hair and messed stubble coating his lower face. He was stood under some shelter from a closed store, a cigarette between his lips as he spoke. He took away the cancer stick, blowing out some toxic smoke your way.
You raised an eyebrow, “Excuse me?”
“Ah, you seem deaf too.” He teased, smirking slightly as he flicked off some ash from his cigarette. “Do you want one?” He held up the cigarette as if he were offering one to pass over.
You were silent for a moment, “No, I don’t smoke and I don’t talk to strangers.” You eyed the mans attire, it was messy. His shirt was riding up his flat abdomen and his jacket was hanging off both of his shoulders and barely on his arms. The flyer of his jeans open and exposing the black underwear beneath. “Goodbye now.”
With that, you attempted to strut away from the man.
You heard him pace next to you and you huff, looking to see him grinning.
“A pretty lady like you walking out here alone on a dark Friday night? Aren’t you scared?” He spoke to you as if he was speaking to a toddler. You didn’t like it.
“Did I not say that I don’t talk to strangers?” You snarl the man, your inner sass glowing.
The man whistled at your feisty behaviour. “I like it, this attitude thing of yours. Men like me love it.”
“Well women like me don’t love men like you. Walk away now.” You go to pull out your phone to call your friend to ask her to come meet you so you could actually get away from you new profound ‘friend’.
His hand quickly snatches your wrist. pulling you close and making you drop your jacket in order to quickly try and retreat your trapped wrist.
“Tsk, tsk girly, I don’t think you get to just choose what I get to do.” He flicked his tongue against his teeth and he tugged your form closer to his, the stench of vodka mixing with the air around you.
Your eyebrows furrowed angrily, before stopping yourself from struggling and attempting to use your free hand to dig into your hand bag to grab your bottle of pepper spray however his free hand grabbed your wrist and held it tightly, pinning both of your hands against the wall after flipping you behind him. Your (E/C) beads widened in shock at the situation, your handbag falling to your heels and the insides unraveling out into puddles of misery.
You quickly lift your leg and slammed your spiked heel into the attackers thigh, pushing and kicking as hard as you can. A cry of pain emitted from the drunk, before letting one of your wrists go and sending a harsh and very much so violent punch into your delicate cheek which made you stumble to the floor due to the force of not being able to stand upon one foot.
One heel slipped off as your hair was quickly soaked from your temple hitting the ground of a puddle.
Rain danced around you and soaked your clothing.
For once, you (Y/N) Stark were terrified and didn’t have the upper hand.
The man smirked and quickly went down on you, sitting on your hips to prevent you from kicking him again. One hand of his pinning both of your tiny wrists against eachother on the damp concrete. A long cry for help pleaded past your lips which was silenced by the mans sinful lips forcing against your own. His tongue slided inside and roamed your privacy.
You clamped your set of perfect teeth down on his tongue, causing him to retreat and hiss loud.
“You little fucking bitch!”
This is when you began to struggle again, blood not only in your mouth from his tongue bleeding but his mouth was now dripping blood onto your face.
His free hand wiped away his metallic tasting blood from his lips before spitting on your face with a deathly glare. You cringed, tilting your head to the side and you struggled with his weight above you.
His hand trickled down to your body, grabbing your wet jeans and quickly ripping them away with expert ease.
“You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that, you bitch.”
A scream left your now awakened state, sweat dripping from every pore of your damaged body. Your face damp of salty pools of tears, your emotions pouring out in waves.
“(Y/N)?” Steve panicked as he rushed in, seeing the same state you were in yesterday morning and the day before.
You pulled up your blanket, covering your body despite being fully clothed. Shame reckoned within your soul as you had the same dream.
“Are you okay, doll?” He made his way over quickly, sitting down next to you on your bed, wrapping a protective arm around your frame.
“I-it happened again, Steve..” You croaked, reminding him of yesterday and Sunday morning too.
“(Y/N)..” Steve whispered, stroking your messed (H/C) strands of hair. “It was just a nightmare, don’t worry.. You’re okay.”
“No Steve, it wasn’t a nightmare.. it actually happened..”
It was later in the day on that Tuesday when Steve was thinking to himself.
He was the only one who knew about the horrible turn of events that had happened to you. It was killing him to see you like this.
You had promised him that you would tell Tony the day after it happened, yet you hadn’t done so yet. It was now three days later, going on four days.
Tony needed to know, if it wasn’t gonna be from you it would have to be from Steve.
Steve sighed heavily, sadness coating his features as he stood up and headed for the labs. He bit his lip as he thought through what words he would speak to Tony, how exactly do you tell someone that their daughter has been raped?
After a bit of searching for the genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist he soon finds Tony in one of his many labs with no one other than Bruce Banner. The two were working away and bonding with eachother over the love of science.
“Tony?” Steve spoke up, leaning against one of the walls with a heavy heart.
Tony looked back and grinned only for Steve to speak up again, “can we talk?”
You sighed as you sat at the bottom of your tub, the shower water soothing your nerves. Each splash lulling you off away from any bad thoughts, you had been in the tub for roughly two hours if not more.
This was becoming a daily routine for you ever since the attack, you’d purposely push yourself away from others so you wouldn’t have to face them. You still hadn’t kept your promise to Steve by telling your dad but it was easier said than done to do so.
You were scared to make it public, to even tell another soul other than Steve. Even with Steve, you didn’t tell him. You didn’t have to say a word for him to know what had happened to you that night.
“(Y/N)! Come out here now!” You flinched in shock, hearing your fathers voice from the other side of your personal bathroom.
“C-coming dad!” You called, quickly stopping the trickles of hot water.
You threw on your pyjamas, in other words Steve’s sweats and one of your own nerdy shirts. Your hair remained damp and stuck to the sides of your face and neck before unlocking the door and opening it, to see your father with a broken expression.
“Dad..?” You whispered, seeing his eyes starting to become glassy.
“Why didn’t you tell me, sweetheart?” Tony croaked, gently pursing his lips together.
No words were exchanged as your eyes too matched your fathers. Tony lifted his shaking arms for you to fall into. Which you did. You father pulled you into a loving hug, kissing your forehead over and over with his arms rubbing your back.
This was what he would do to you if you had a nightmare as a child.
Tears began to seep into your fathers shirt, before looking up and seeing Steve in the doorway, leaning with his arms folded and a frown on his face.
“Thankyou.” You mouthed to Steve, before burying your face in your fathers loving embrace.
The balcony door was cracked open, allowing a breeze to drift in and soothe your overheated skin. Bucky’s lips grazed your neck again before he left another dark colored bruise. Both of your bodies were slick with sweat because of both the summer heat and your previous activities. You sighed out again, fingers skimming down Bucky’s scarred back, stopping to massage the cute little mounds of his ass that you loved so much. He smiled down at you, pecking your lips a few more times before pulling away from you.
You whimpered at the sudden loss of him, body instinctively curling in on itself as you watched Bucky throw on basketball shorts. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the bedside table, smiling sweetly down at you as he pulled one from the box. He bent at the waist to plant a soft kiss on your forehead before moving to sit against the headboard of your bed.
You heard the click of his lighter, smelled the smoke and nearly sighed. That smell, whether it was clinging to his clothes or whether it filled the air, had become intoxicating to you. It reminded you of him, comforted you at night when he wasn’t there. You rolled onto your stomach, a lazy grin gracing your face as you crawled up to meet him. He exhaled the smoke from the side of his mouth, careful not to blow it in your face. His teeth shined in the July sun as he placed the cigarette between his lips. You watched closely as his cheeks hollowed slightly, the cigarette’s end glowed brighter.
You reached up, plucking it from his mouth. He chuckled, smoke coming out from his nose and mouth, making you giggle and smile even bigger. Without much thought, your lips met his. You tasted like strawberry ice cream and heaven, a taste that he never seemed to get enough of.
He watched you now, as you placed his cigarette between your own lips, inhaling only a little of the smoke. Your lips made a gentle, little “o” shape, and he couldn’t help but compare it to the face you made when he was reacquainting himself with your body. Fuck… he loved you.
You giggled again, sounding light and airy, making his stomach clench before you placed the cigarette between his teeth.
He growled deep in his chest, exciting you more than you thought possible, and his hands grasped your hips. You bit your lip as he lifted you up to sit you on his lap, letting you feel the curve of him in his shorts. Your eyes fluttered, shining with innocence even though you knew what he was about to do and you loved it.
“Again?” You giggled, “But I haven’t gotten over the last round we had.”
“I can wait…” He grinned, inhaling more of the toxic smoke.
“Oh, can you?” You teased, giving your hips a little wiggle, “Doesn’t feel like it to me.”
With that challenging remark, he put his cig out in the ashtray and you felt your stomach flip. His hands roamed your bare back, pulling you closer, “Trust me, baby, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for more.”
Gavin’s bored and Geoff’s being an utter twat. Gavin’s bored and Geoff’s gone out on some job without him, told him to behave himself and not make a mess, like he’s some kind of errant child. Gavin’s bored and feeling petty, a combination that has never ended well for anyone, least of all Mr. Geoffrey don’t fuck around indoors you animals Ramsey.
So Gavin’s just hanging out on Geoff’s couch, behaving himself impeccably as he goads the others into making a complete mess of the penthouse. He jeers on recklessness, assigns a point system to destruction, calls out various walls, ornaments and artwork as targets, and despite their best intentions everyone inevitably falls into his game.
By the time Trevor turns up, stopping to stare around the room in stunned kind of silence, Jeremy has successfully shot 6 hanging paintings off their hooks, Michael’s quickly ended an increasingly elaborate game of keepie-uppie after his throw knocked Geoff’s huge flatscreen from the wall, Jack’s got the enormous joke dildo someone bought stuck leering down at them from where it’s wedged in the ceiling, and in his efforts to knock it free Ryan’s flat out torn an enormous, unmissable hole that’s left misplaced plaster scattered all over the dining table.
There’s a moment of guilty silence, of children being caught misbehaving by an adult with authority, and then Gavin’s slipping over to fling an arm around Trevor’s shoulders, irrepressible grin in his voice as he swoops the ball out of Ryan’s hands and presses it into Trevor’s. It’s not hard to draw him into the games, not when the other’s have clearly been having a whale of a time, when Trevor’s itching to play along anyway, when Gavin’s still leaning in close and giving him a run down of everything that’s happened so far, of how many points everyone is up to, scoffing about how surely Trevor could do better than that. And Trevor does, right up until the moment he lands a direct hit on the gaudy light fixture hanging in the middle of the room, sending it crashing to the floor in a storm of shattered glass and likely toxic smoke. Which is, of course, when Geoff gets home.
Geoff arrives to find the main room of the penthouse in utter shambles, destruction to such a degree he momentarily thinks someone must have broken in, at least until he catches sight of his crew. Still as statues, like deer caught in the headlight, they’re all wearing shades of guilt clear upon their faces, all except for Gavin. Gavin who’s sitting away from all the rubble, who has his chin propped upon his hand as he smiles up at Geoff, somehow the only one who can say with complete honesty that he didn’t break a single thing.
summary: you’re a world-famous pop star which everyone learned to either love or hate. when a video of you making out with 5 seconds of summer’s bassist leaks, your management decides to make it seem like you’re dating calum.
word count: 1,957
warnings: mentions of drugs and stuff
author’s note: oops i totally had writers block for like six months uhhh (also how do u make proper endings?? i am clueless)(ya girl also didn’t proofread so if i have any mistake i’m sorry but i’m probably too lazy to correct it)
“You’re angry.” Calum stated once the both of you re-enter his car. His voice wasn’t careful, like he didn’t care about the 7 photographers that just swarmed the both of you all the way to his car. At most times, when you look at Calum Hood through a screen, you’ll see a shy and timid boy; that’s why you never expected him to act like a total asshole towards you. You’ve never really met the guy but you did like his music, though you weren’t as vocal about it. “You’re really angry.” His obnoxious tone showed that he cared no more than a speck of dust, but it bothered you to the bone.
You didn’t make a sound as he said those sentences, but you only looked at him with a blank expression on your face before looking out the car window. You felt relieved when he started the engine, indicating that this stunt would be over with, at least for the day.
“You know,” Calum started, his eyes still trained at the road as his left hand pressed a button to let the window on the driver’s side down. “It might be a little unprofessional to call my co-workers cute,” His left hand replaced the right one that was resting on the steering wheel as it opened the glove compartment to grab onto a box of smokes. “But you’re pretty cute when you’re angry.” Calum’s compliment, rather than making you blush, just made the blood in your veins boil a little faster.
Richie Tozier, the boy who’d lived a life full of neglect, finally understood love. He felt love with Bill Denbrough, his childhood best friend. He also felt it with Beverly, Stan, Mike, and Ben - his other best friends. But, with Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie felt a different kind of love.
This type of love made him want to scream out to the Heavens, to thank whatever creator might sit up there. With Eddie, he wanted to see tomorrow and the days following - because everything had meaning and it was beautiful.
Paired with this exhilarating feeling comes the overpowering sense of protectiveness; Richie knew he would do absolutely anything for Eddie, to keep him safe and happy. Sonia Kaspbrak, Eddie’s batshit crazy mother, also knew this - and she used it to her advantage.
Richie held a cigarette between bruised fingers, shakily bringing it up to his lips and inhaling a deep breath of toxic smoke. His head spun, nausea climbing it’s way up his throat. The sun settled on the brink of the horizon, threatening to disappear any minute. His eyes throbbed uncomfortably behind thick-rimmed glasses, as if he hadn’t slept for days. His friends approached quickly, dropping their bikes on the sidewalk.
“Richie,” Beverly Marsh spoke first, crouching down next to him and taking his purple hand to examine, “What the fuck happened?”
He sat silently for a moment, dropping what was left of his smoke and pulling another out of his pocket. Bill, Stan, Mike, and Ben all took seats around him, taking in his unusual features. Richie Tozier’s face had lost it’s glow, the quirky grin had been replaced with a heartbreaking grimace, his once bright eyes now dull. His cheeks were sunken in, even more-so than usual, dark bags staining his pale skin.
“I can’t hang out with you guys anymore.” There was no hint of humor in his tone; Richie sounded completely lifeless.
“W-What do you m-mean?” asked Bill half-heartedly, frown etched onto his face.
“Where’s Eddie? Why isn’t he here?” Stan added on, noticing the missing member of their club.
Richie ran his tongue over his chapped lips. His chest felt ached with a sense of emptiness. His breath hitched in his throat as he fought back the tears blurring his vision.
“I’m going to break up with him today.” He croaked, trying not to sound utterly crushed, “And after I do, I want you guys to be there for him. Make sure he’s okay for me.”
They all fell silent, mouths agape, confusion bubbling throughout the circle. Beverly clutched Richie’s hand tightly, staring holes in the side of his head as if trying to read his mind. Stan slipped an arm around Bill, who looked absolutely torn apart.
It was well-known how strongly the boys felt for each other. They were practically attached at the hip since they’d first met. Eddie was Richie’s other half, the sun to his moon.
Mike voiced their thoughts, “Why the fuck would you do that? It’s obviously hurting you.”
“Just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, okay? Stay with him until he’s alright.”
“If you do this,” Ben said slowly, “Eddie will never be alright. Rich, he needs you.”
“No, he doesn’t!” Richie yelled, startling all of them.
Not even Bill had ever heard Richie so angry and broken. Richie’s skin flushed, heating up in uncontrollable rage. His fists clenched, brows knitting together.
“Eddie doesn’t need me, Ben! I’m just the annoying loudmouth, right? The ‘waste of space’ Tozier who’s always cracking jokes and can’t take anything seriously - Eddie doesn’t need that!”
Richie got up to his feet in a flash, pushing his way out of the group to pace in frustration and toss his cigarette onto the street. The others just watched him as he seemed to be fighting internal panic, only getting up as he let out a desperate scream and threw a punch at a street sign. Beginning to throw another, a hand caught his wrist.
“Richie, calm down.” Mike’s voice seemed to ground him, “We will figure this out together.”
Richie broke down. He collapsed in Mike’s arms with heart-wrenching sobs, bunching up Mike’s shirt in his bloody fists. Mike struggled to keep him up, practically holding Richie up off the ground. Richie’s entire body stung, as if he’d been attacked by bees. No one could bare to look at him as he let out a violent cry, writhing in Mike’s arms as if electrical shocks were running through his body.
Mike turned to the others, “Somebody go get Eddie.”
“No!” Richie cried sharply, looking at the boy wide-eyed, “No, I can’t do it! Not yet!”
“Rich, you don’t have to. Whatever’s going through your head, whatever’s bothering you, we’ll work through it.” Beverly spoke sweetly, rubbing the taller boy’s back soothingly.
“E-Eddie l-loves you.” Bill stated, “J-Just as m-muh-much as you l-love him.”
Richie sunk to the pavement, clutching handfuls of his hair and dragging Mike down with him, “You don’t understand, Big Bill.” Tears streamed uncontrollably down his cheeks, “None of you understand.”
Ben grabbed Beverly’s hand, giving it a squeeze as her eyes glossed over.
“So, if you break up with Eddie,” Stan dropped down next to Richie, “And we all stay with him to make sure he’s okay - who’s going to make sure you are?”
Richie grabbed Stan’s shoulders, voice cracking as he spoke, “Promise me you’ll be there for him.”
Stan stayed silent, his eyes wide and sad. Richie’s cheeks were blotchy, lashes dripping with tears. His expression screamed one of worry and apprehension.
“I’m not letting you go until you promise me!”
Stan nodded slowly, “I promise, Rich.”
Richie pulled Stan into him, embracing him tightly and letting his head fall in the crook of Stan’s neck. Mike, Bill, and Beverly all joined the hug - followed by Ben, who’s heart ached for both Richie and Eddie.
“Why are you doing it, Rich?” Beverly’s words were muffled by Mike’s shoulder, “Did someone say something to you?”
Richie pulled away from the group hug with a sad smile, wiping at his wet cheeks with the back of his hands. From his jean pocket, Richie pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper, ‘Eds’ scratched messily on the front.
“Bev, will you give this to him?” He laid the note in her hand, “Wait a few days, though. Don’t upset him.”
“Rich, this isn’t…” Beverly trailed off, biting down on her lip as a sob choked her.
Richie gave a soft laugh, “It’s not a suicide note. It’s a letter. I want him to know why.”
“But, Richie, why?” Ben asked, watching sadly as Richie stood.
“Maybe Eds,” He flinched at the nickname, sucking in a deep breath, “Maybe Eddie will tell you.”
He lifted his bike, throwing a leg over to straddle it. Richie looked back at his friends, offering a glance and a smile at each of them. None of them returned the smile. Beverly was obviously crying now, Bill not far behind. Ben’s eyes watered profusely, and Mike and Stan both looked defeated.
Richie gripped his bike handles with trembling hands, emotions overflowing in his mind. He pressed his lips into a thin line to keep from letting out another sob. Blood continued to run down his knuckles, though he hardly noticed.
“Richie, please,” Beverly pleaded, taking a step towards him, “We won’t be the loser’s club without you.”
“W-We l-love you, t-tru-trashmouth.”
Richie turned away from the group as a fresh round of tears began to escape his
“It’s been fun, losers.”
Richie took off towards Eddie’s house, sobbing and cursing himself the entire ride there. He ached with unbearable pain, his lungs restricted and denied him access to breathe. He knew this would hurt him, he knew this would hurt Eddie even more - but, Richie would do anything for his soon to be ex-boyfriend.
Even if that anything involved breaking his heart to keep him safe.