#twentyfourkaratdung

[thebrutishcarrow]

What?

[cadenceholly-blog]

When you get them send them. -Mundungus Fletcher

Here you go! Rush ordered. 

-Cadence Holly

[cadenceholly-blog]

I'm placing an order for Murtlap Tentacle, Ashwinder egg, and powdered common rue. Mundungus Fletcher

My apologies for the delay in sending. We were fresh out of Ashwinder eggs. Everything should be included and if you need anything else, just owl!

—Cadence Holly. 

Happy brewing! 

[fred-erica]

good as dead || dung & fred

Y’really wanna walk the line?

She didn’t have a damn clue why there and then, in her securely empty dorm, curled up on her hopelessly unmade bed, syringe loaded and anxiously waiting by her bedside, she was compelled to hesitate. It had something to do with her insides, maybe, and their frantic incestuous foxtrot beneath her skin. If her stomach hadn’t been consistently rocky these past weeks, she’d probably call it anxiety. But lucidity escaped Fred most days, and today she dismissed the jitters as nothing more than an odd nuisance, one last damned thing standing between her and the mainer to her vein.

See, the goal’s t’bolster up tha’ firs’ rush—‘euphoria,’ or what ‘ave you. S’brilliant, really. Nothin’ like it.

How’s it work?

Howsit work? Well, there’re two ways to go abou’ it. Y’can do a couple lines ‘fore injectin’—in’t anythin’ wrong with that or nothin’, works jus’ fine. But f’ya ask me—you wan’ a real rush? Cook yourself up a snowball.

A…?

Snowball. Y’take the coke and put it—in the cooker, as yer preppin’ the smack, wit’ some citric acid or summat. Bloody brilliant.

Shootin’ coked-up dope.

Tha’s th’idea, sweetheart. Listen, I’ll teach ya. S’easy.

It had cost her extra favors, but Tony was right, it had been easy. First—a fallback batch, just smack. For the withdrawals. Round two, she broke out the white. Cleaned up the mess, stashed all the gear. All systems were go. She took a deep breath, reaching for the needle.

Fred Cram, you’re gonna touch the motherfuckin’ sky.