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Summary
Tommy knows that taking substances from strangers is bad, he knows. It's just... he's been sad for a bit now, believe it or not, and getting eternal happiness just by eating a candy sounds pretty pog, okay? No, he isn't desperate. Fuck off.
or
Tommy's suddenly all pink and happy and bubbly and everyone is more concerned than they should be.
(20 imaginary dollars to whoever names all of GHOST'S songs referenced in this fic)