Hey, I Am Sober. I’ve Been Sober For Two - Almost Two Days Now. It Feels Like 45 Years.

                       he can’t outrun the sentiments that poison his body.                                they make him sick, vulnerable, w e a k.                                             they rot him inside-out.

                                                              ( && ) 

                          how do you heal from such internal damage?                                         in reality, he knows he can’t.                           ——— but there’s no way he’ll be eaten alive by                                                  his own conscience.

                                         he resorts to drugs, to alcohol.                                 to the numbness it gives him no matter                                                     how temporary. 

i’m not afraid of anything that’s my whole problem

Nicola Maye Goldberg, from “Threshold,” published in Queen Mob’s Teahouse (via dvoyd)

weirdqlow‌:

“But you’re not sure?” Though phrased like a question, her tone made clear that it was anything but. That certainly seemed like something one ought to know about themself. “Well, you have to tell me all about what that’s like. I’ve never possessed someone myself. Never really saw the appeal of it.”

“That’s what I said.” The former ghost boy was hardly concerned with details, he had and always would be the reckless type. “Uh --- it’s like putting on a costume but with more feeling.” He chuckled, having no better way to describe the sensation. High or sober, he was no word smith.

thctsandcrscncy‌:

Wyatt watched the other male and smirked a little before his mask was removed from his face and they were now looking at each other. “I am here… good of you to notice… though I’m not too big of a fan of it here… I liked the isle… though it was good to seem where my mom used to live… you know it’s a museum now… stupid really… I mean I can walk straight in and used everything.” he admitted.

Salem nodded, thinking carefully since he now had the capacity to think before he spoke. “I don’t know about the Isle but Auradon’s... odd. In a not fun way,” he elaborated. Coming from Halloweentown, he had a rather warped perception of Auradon but he had grown used to it after awhile. “You should visit Halloweentown. It —- um I... you’re missed.”

wickedissms‌:

So he really didn’t remember her, how annoying. “Do you think some VK is better than you? Really? And haven’t you seen him around with everyone else? She’s not the only one in his heart…not the way you hold only her in your heart.” She held up her hand and let a few green sparks fly, “Does this jog your memory? Tell me what’s wrong, maybe I can help.”

“What are you talking about?” He had failed to keep up with all the auradon gossip and the cold only gave him more reason to stay inside lately. “Oh---” He realized what he must have asked her when they first met. “I -- I don’t know if I can.” The words of his secret felt heavy on his tongue but he was desperate for any kind of help. “I have this ability that I don’t know how to control and I don’t want it. It drives me insane.”

nokingcharlie‌:

♛ — “You’re telling me. Feel like everyone suggest I do something about my drinking but why should I if I enjoy it.” Charlie nodded as he walked with him to his place. “Beer sounds good but I wouldn’t mind taking a look at what hard stuff you have.” — ♛

“That’s the spirit!” He clapped him on the back, continuing further and thankful they didn’t have much farther to go. “Are you a tequila guy? No -- vodka! Is vodka your style?” He asked playfully.

@wcstelavd

lilxxterror‌:

Irey herself had her own set of pancakes with the exception hers were covered in whipped cream and chocolate sauce that it looked so sweet that it could hurt anyone’s teeth. “As someone who grew up on the Isle, the food is literally one of my favorite things about this place. Like I don’t think I would have ever seen pancakes like these back at home.” Even in her old life before Oogie, the food wasn’t the greatest thing. “I’m a firm believer that anything food wise can be made. I’m sure when you go back you can convince someone to make spider pancakes or even waffles.”

“What’s Isle food like? Nothing good?” Good was a vague term for the former ghoul but he expected that even the Isle was a terrible place by Halloweentown standards. “Yeah... I won’t be back home for awhile.” He skewered a piece of strawberry, popping it into his mouth. “But I wondered if they’d make it here. I don’t see many spiders around though. Wonder if they even have any.” Salem was only half serious but a lot of creatures, insects included, were dying early in the harsh weather.