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2/8/17 graaab 🔥🔥

#my stash #hash oil #oil #dabs #co2 oil #co2 dabs #medicnal #girls who dab

@medicnal said : “ hey, do you have any spare pajamas? i’m going to sleep on your couch tonight; that way you just need to shout if you need me. ” / from Bonnie <3

it's bonnie's first time in her apartment. cassie's apartment is... small. there's no furniture in it to make it feel bigger, apart from a sad little couch that looks like it's pouting at her. could a piece of furniture feel neglected? surely not. but if phantom forests could regrow and human bones could knit themselves back together, maybe there are weirder things that could happen. her life has been one weird thing after another. there is a certain shame that manifests in cassie's hands moving too quickly, trying to explain away the emptiness (i don't really stay here often, she had said, around a blush-- she wants bonnie to think she is fun and normal in all the ways that women her age usually are). " i think i have a spare pair somewhere, " cassie says. her clothes were folded near her bed, since there's no closet to be found. she leafs through them until she finds a clean pair. " you don't have to sleep on the couch. take the bed. "

#medicnal #𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢. verse one ... o' shrill voiced nightingale!

there's peace and quiet here, on this balcony. it's a relative kind of quiet though, relative to the noise inside, to the party raging behind the glass doors. bonnie's blonde friend—dani might've caught her name once, and forgotten it just as fast—flits just out of sight inside the house, leaving them alone for the time being.

the drink that bonnie's nursing doesn't seem to be doing much other than inviting an odd kind of melancholy. “i think i'm meant to be alone.”

dani takes a sip of his own drink, something a little more intricate this time. he'd gotten tired of the never-cold-enough cheap beer. “but you're not. tonight you're here, with me!” he shifts his arm so that it brushes against hers, not enough to be a bump, but enough to be felt. “none of us are meant to be alone, bonnie. the world is big, and wide, and the people are plenty! and even if you believe it, the world disagrees. don't we keep finding our way back to each other?”

@medicnal

#medicnal #IN.#i've decided they just keep meeting at parties & he's like oh! it's you again! <3 #caroline: why do i never meet anybody nice and fun at these things????

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK . . . thunderous pounding, an unforecasted phenomenon swelling within the climate of the hallway, plucks the shadow’s well - loved carcass from the grips of an inebriated slumber. Muscles resemble that of atrophied limbs lying inert for months on end, a freight truck of overexertion running them over by the big mac’s unforgiving wheels； against the efforts of sleep lulling the shadow back into the warmth of it’s nebulous graces, limited energy is wrestled from their depths to inspire some life into their roadkill corpse. Limbs shift within their respective fleshy sleeves, enlivening each lengthy appendage from beneath the twisted and knotted sheets wrapped around them — with the exception of one： an extra arm seemingly sprouted overnight. Hollows for a stare, barely awake enough to greet the few light streams having burned cigarette holes into nicotine aged curtains welcoming them to experience the morning, glance behind them at the inert arm suppined across the expanse of their back. From there, trailing the tanned and well defined limb ( that definitely didn’t belong to them ) across their shoulders, eyelets settle on the spot beside them — typically found unoccupied — now filled with a warm, sleeping body of a faceless other. Last night’s debaucherous exploits, mostly a blur with any .attempt at current recollect, have made himself a comfortable bedfellow； it wasn’t the first time and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last, except for the —

Knocking. This time the sound rises louder and more precisely against the wood grain of the front door, echoing into the poor excuse for a furnished apartment turned makeshift office, stirs them from their temporary dwellings within a groggy haze. Memories, particularly those necessary moments steeped in intoxication and are left smudges of what they once were, betray their present understanding as viable reasoning is sought for the presence of such an early wake up call. Whoever’s — or in most likely cases whatever’s — silhouette is cast against frosted glass, their stance at the door remains unrelenting. Sleep evades them for now, succumbing to the pouding echoing throughout the hollow of their skull； with limited options, the shadow proceeds to entertain whoever’s at the door before they wake Whatshisname beside them.

With absolute certainty the sound wasn’t the makings of a blistering hangover still haunting the limits they push their beloved human form, slow moving limbs spring to life untangling their trapped extremities and essaying not to stir the still, faceless body lying blissfully unaware as the arm is slowly peeled from its place trailing the scar of their equally bespeckled back. Once free, haste is made of movements, making quick work searching through the strewn apparel left in heaps from last night’s trysts, quickly discerning between their own abandoned pieces of clothes and the others； elongated legs are stuffed into the legs of boxers while hands temporary blindfold themself pulling on a shirt that barely qualified as clean, crown of disheveled raven curls surfacing to throw a quick glance over a newly clothed shoulder, the soft snore from their sleeping bedfellow overwhelms the silence of the still apartment. Creeping across the minefield of objects strewn across the wood floors in desperate need of a sweep and scrub down, refraining the familiar loose boards prone to playing a chord out of key, they come to stand at the threshold. With all the theatrics for a show of a sleeping audience member, previous efforts to sustain limited patience were ultimately for naught； the final rattling of rhythmic raps against the door forcing movements into a swift fluid motion, wood separated from the flush of its frame with a creak and a hissing ：〝 What?！〟

Leave it to the awkward nature of invasive silence to creeping into the harsh halogen glow of the emptied hall, muffles of mysteriously heard ( but always never seen ) neighbors clattering and shifting in their own unique life patterns overhead the only other occupant of the tension held in the lingering moment of erupted impatience. Realization is due for impact once the squint of aching eyelets finally adjusts enough to recognize some semblance of familiarity in the features of the undeserving recipient of the shadow’s boiled over fury. 〝 I’M SORRY, DID I MISS SOMETHING？〞 @medicnal ( cordelia )’s words arrive with much delay, defying realities pressures to align with its synced cadence； palatable silence remains, lingering on their tongue as it searches the crevices of clenched teeth for an answer.

composure recoils from the sharp edge of ejected vulgarity enough for temperament to register through the shifting tension rippling throughout, uncouth manners rendered dull and restrained against the burden of innate discomposure shrinking against the grain of the doorway. Aphotic pools, still upon a cursory observation, search the (un)expected visitor’s features for a modicum of information to alight synapses still dazed and half - asleep. And it hits them in an instant, a flashbang revelation：〝 You called yesterday. 〟 words, hoarse from an early morning case of drought, escape an agape maw without consciousness, puppeteered from the one thought of many sober enough to grasp onto some semblance of familiarity. 〝 You called me yesterday about the . . . right！〟 vigor and synchronicity rejoice through repetition, reuniting through the utterance of the renewed exclamation with the brief widening of blackened sockets.

Not one of their smoothest recoveries, eerie echoes of embarrassment leave their stance to shrink in an instant. The relaxed avenues of etched worry lines press against the peeling and cracked surface of the door, skull weary with the burden of their own impetuous mistake. 〝 No, you didn’t miss anything. I did. 〟 With a lax stance now plumb, they continue：〝 This is my fault. Bit of a late night and I’m not exactly prepared for company this early in the morning. Just give me a few minutes to deal with . . . [ peeking into the domicile of suffused sunlight braced against the shutters of closed shades at the handsome and ( yep, definitely ) naked devil that kept the shadow company last night, who remains asleep but slowly stirring in the poor excuse for a bed； attention resumes. ] and i’ll be with you, just wait out here. 〟 Door softly clicks shut, uttering just above their breath through the paper thin door ：〝 Just a few minutes, I promise！〟

[ CASTLE ROCK SENTENCE PROMPTS ]： ACCEPTING！

#medicnal #i hope you don't mind i carried this over from #cordelia's solo blog #‵ ⋆̳ㅤ callㅤ⅋ㅤthe shadows answer back，ㅤ›ㅤ response.#‵ ⋆̳ㅤ how to be a human being，ㅤ›ㅤ main verse.

The tv is dim as credits silently roll, the living room is coated in a blue gray tint. The shades are drawn and everything seems right – peaceful in its own way. The sofa is an old thrift store find that Bonnie and Dallas had plucked out of some random shop three towns over; its well worn fabric soft beneath them both as they lounge. His long legs barely fit and even with them partially curled he refuses to move; the beautiful woman laid along the top of his chest keeps him in place like a steady anchor. There is a part of him that feels like he could float away and that may be because he’s never known such peace in another's company. It's something outlandish to think the woman who he gazes at fondly made his heart race and be at peace all at once. He can feel her fingertips tracing along his jaw and against the bridge of his nose and it's in his chest, that solid piece of gold that formed when he first saw her. He loved her, god he loved her and he never thought it was possible but here she was.

Carefully he brushes one of her dark curls out of those big brown eyes watching him, the corner of his lip twitching. “ I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. “ Her laugh is music to his ears. It's radiant and bounces and clings to each piece of flesh that is himself and he loves oh god does he love. ‘ What? ‘ It's like sunlight breaking through a cloud when he smiles at her – it's just for her, it's always just for her. “ How much I love you. “ It's a breathless huff of a laugh he can't help but let out as his fingers come to smooth against her soft cheek, that brief hesitation he takes only to soak her up again. Lips press to her own and its soft – everything about her is soft and it's real, but there isn't a surprise that in her realness is a heat that strikes up his limbs at just the taste of her. It licks its way up his legs and coils around his thighs and slithers up his back; and his kiss can only become a little greedier.

@medicnal asked for a KISS <3

#//. asks #//. bonnie bennett #medicnal #WHOOMP I HOPE THIS IS GOOD #ILU THO

the bar is crowded; sport fans alike tuck away into every sticky pleather booth they can squeeze into to watch the latest game. a pub table has been claimed and its his alone, his band mates had pressed him for his sudden desire to wander off but he'd simply said he needed space. it wasn't a lie in reality, three days cramped in a tiny tour bus with eight people is enough to drive someone to insanity -- now imagine they were all crazy like him. he just wanted a bite to eat that was all, after the concert they'd had and his recent dreams every muscle in his body felt like a tightly pulled wire. he's tucked himself away into the farthest and darkest corner the bar provided, sipping at his drink as his blue eyes restlessly wander over every face in the room with him.

a cheer roars through the crowd and bodies rise from their seats with an enthusiasm he's seen in soccer parents alike. in the corner of his lips is a tiny smirk drawing itself up along his usually stoic face, a small piece of him envied their excitement. it took so much effort to conjure of a similar reaction out of him that sometimes his friends joked that seeing him smile could blind someone. when he was younger he questioned if he was defective, but now being older he knew better. dallas understood that how he processed things had to be different, its what kept him alive -- that and her. another cheer roars through the room and another sip is taken of his drink, gaze shifting to peer at certain booths that seem louder than others.

blue eyes shift toward the door as it opens, catching sight of a blonde slipping through it. his eyes try to slip away but the hairs on his forearms raise and the skin on the back of his neck prickles, eyes forcing themselves to focus on the door even against his own will. his drink hovers mid air as he watches another girl slip through the door, brunette except this time she's holding it open for another. fingers tighten on his glass as his brain zeros in on the third girl; her dark curls bounce as she walks and something about her screams in the back of his head. the heavy wave of relief flooding his body feels wrong almost, but he cant see why -- she wont look up at him. silently in his mind he can hear himself, ' look up. look up. look up. '

@medicnal liked for a starter!

#//. threads #medicnal #//. connections #//. bonnie bennett #GODDDDDD IM OS HYPED FOR THIS

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