#dew absolutely shouldn’t have energy drinks

[cryptid-ghoulette]

Swiss: “where’s dew? The bus leaves in 10 minutes.”

Aether pulls out his phone, showing Swiss a text message from dew: At the apothecary contemplating which elixir of wakefulness to purchase

Swiss, visibly confused “translation?”

Aether, with a sigh: “He’s getting a red bull from the circle k”

#dew absolutely shouldn’t have energy drinks #but I’m sure he does anyway #the band ghost #ghost bc #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #aether ghoul #shitghosting #cryptidrambling

[theold-ultraviolence]

Hii Irma😁

Did ppl even go on honeymoons back in yee old westeros?!?! Doesn't matter cause Aemond is taking his lovely wife on a honeymoon away from the prying eyes of the red keep

idk much of the world lore so idk exactly where they'd go maybe he'd have a cabin built for them in a beautiful forrest where the above image happens along with adorable horny shenanigans

ilovethismansomuchitsstupidhowattractediamtohim

Nothing Else Matters

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

A/N: CEE!! you always come through with the absolute BEST ideas. I love you and your big brain. Hope you like this!! CW: PIV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, sex in a lake. Words: 2k.

You’d been betrothed far too young and married soon after. 

Mere children you were, too innocent to comprehend just what love could feel like; if it was even real and not just a figment of a bard’s song. That it could indeed be present in a marriage. Yet you were mature enough to know that such an arrangement was a duty to honor and uphold for the sake of the kingdom. A matter of politics, nothing else. 

At least something remained unburdened between prince Aemond and you: your friendship. 

Never did either of you question the order of things, nor complain about the betrothal, for you’d always been best friends. 

You’d been close to Aemond since you can recall, were right there with him – and for him –  when he’d lost his eye. When he felt the betrayal from his own kin, it was you whom he had deemed worthy to safekeep his trust, and who continued to do so faithfully through the years of marital life that followed. 

As long as you two stuck together, nothing else mattered. 

Thus seasons passed. 

The sunrises lead to sunsets that painted everything liquid gold and gave ordinary people angelic halos around their hair that could lead anyone to believe that otherworldly things existed, such as love in a marriage. 

And it was in those kinds of moments, with the evening dew rising in the atmosphere and a comforting scent imprinted on pillows and sheets, soon Aemond and you learned that some rituals imposed could be blessings in disguise. 

As soon as the both of you were conscious of the truth that sneaked into your hearts as you grew older, you decided to find the time to celebrate the year in which you were bound together, in your own ways, hidden away from all prying eyes of the Red Keep or even all of King’s Landing. 

The first time, all you did was drink the finest of wines in your shared bedchamber, with your feet bare and nothing but your night clothes, sitting in front of the hearth while sharing stories and gossip like mischievous children reclaiming their right to be silly within the impenetrable walls of stone you grew up in. 

Another year, you wore a set of cloaks and visited the Street of Flour in King’s Landing to buy freshly baked treats – even wandering around a tavern and watching a show, forgetting all about the royal titles that mandated where you should or shouldn’t be. 

Then another, amidst conflict and tensions rising, your energy only allowed for a moment of rest; the whole day spent in bed and nothing more. 

During an aimless flight with Vaghar, Aemond came across an abandoned forest that he didn’t recognize from the maps that he’s studied so thoroughly. Maybe he’d even landed on a magical portal, looking at the wide, crystalline lake that surrounded the land, as blue as his sapphire eye and so crystalline that he could see the clouds above, mirrored in sharp detail. More proof of the otherwordly.

In front of it, he found a cabin, built right from the trunk of a tree, with no apparent sign of life inhabiting it. On his way back home, he couldn’t wait to tell you – and then,  show you. 

Now, a couple of years afterwards, the little cabin is fully equipped with a spacious bed and a rug. You didn’t need much, when all the other resources could be hunted down and gathered from the surroundings – didn’t need much but each other.

Nothing else mattered except for this faraway sanctuary that you’d found, where you’re able to commemorate another year in blissful solitude. 

No prying eyes, drunken siblings, or uninvited remarks. 

Nothing matters but the sight of you bathing in the lake, as Aemond sits by the edge of it, focusing on turning twigs and logs into a blazing fire.

He’s in nothing but a silk robe that covers his flushed skin after he’d vigorously fucked you just a moment ago – eyepatch discarded ever since, too, so that he could be eased by the soft kiss of the cold wind on his face.

His nerves are still buzzing from having been buried deep inside of you, with your legs firmly enveloped around his lower back to pull him ever so close to you – memories that flash as he sees your figure floating on the water, just basking in it until you feel it growing warm. Those same, gorgeous legs looking longer as the calm waves that pillow you refract the light – all languid and well spent and so inviting. 

He’d jump right in there with you, but the sight you make is too beautiful to disrupt, so he just sits there mesmerized. 

You’re a siren, straight out of mythology, when you submerge into the water to then surge upwards, with your hair splayed back and curves glistening with droplets that look like diamonds with the way the sun reflects on your skin. 

You turn to look at him from over your shoulder with an impish smirk, before you face him completely and bless him with the image of your breasts and your torso dripping wet, which makes his mouth water and his heart take on a galloping speed. 

You swim closer to Aemond, sultrily calling to him,  “Māzigon, valzȳrys.”

Come, husband…you even speak as an enchantress would, and he can’t deny that he’s spellbound.  

“Come join me, Aemond,” you curl your finger for him to come hither, but he remains in place, still watching – always watching, pondering. 

There’s a tenderness that he feels when he sees you smile in such a mischievous way. He remembers the girl he’d befriended a long time ago, now the woman that he swears his devotion to, be it on his knees or linked in hand during royal affairs. His heart contracts thinking about how, even if you live to see one hundred years together, you’ll still remain his precious childhood friend. 

“You look so peaceful in there, ābrazȳrys.” 

You throw your head back laughing, teasing him with the ravishing line of your neck. “Can’t we be peaceful together?” 

Aemond chuckles to himself, gaze turning a little bit darker. “I can’t guarantee there’ll be peace if I go in there with you.”   

“Then do what you must, husband. Who’s stopping you?” 

“Hmmm.” He looks down with a smirk, considering the crackling embers of the fire by his side: scorching heat like the coiling in his loins.

Then back up at you: soft, yet wild like a watercolor painting.

Is he in the mood for rough ventures or sweet ones? 

With one quieter humm he rises to his feet, looking straight at you with utmost potency as he shoulders off his robe and discards it to the side to enter the water and swim right to you, gathering you in his arms. 

You giggle as you wrap your arms around him, flashing him with your pearly white teeth and juicy lips that he tastes immediately, before letting himself float on his back, taking you alongside. 

You traverse the water like two mating swans, gliding gracefully while locked in a loving kiss. 

Right before he takes a deep breath and sinks underwater, to rise dramatically and lift you up by surprise, making you cackle unabashedly – in a way you’d never be allowed to do back home, but so reminiscent of your childlike innocence.

“Keligon, valzȳrys!” You beg him to stop between your shared laughter. 

He relents just so he could gather you up in his arms once more, carrying you like a precious babe, so you can lean your head back and soak up your hair while grinning to the sky above. 

Aemond nears the shore until he’s able to plant his feet in the soil beneath, and fully support you as you maneuver your legs to wrap around his waist while your arms snake securely around his neck. You nuzzle the crook of it, the underside of his jaw, card your fingers through his damp, silver locks while the tip of your nose grazes the shell of his ear.

“Take me please, dear husband.” You whisper against his temple, earning you a deep humm and the searing feeling of his hard cock bumping against your tummy.   

“As you wish, my lady.” He murmurs, with a dilated gaze and lustful mouth as he kisses you with all the emotions he can’t quite convey through spoken word. 

You take his erection in hand, giving it a few pumps to drink in his quiet moans, feel it throbbing and ready to let gravity work its magic and wrap him up to the hilt with your fluttering cunt. 

You hiss in surprise, never growing fully accustomed to the great size of him buried deep inside – so deep that your clit can rub against his taut pelvis, graze against the coarse blonde hairs on his navel. 

Aemond’s legs are so strong he’s able to thrust into you without problem, even though the water is a fine aid – he fucks you sweetly, deliberately, letting you float before tensing his legs and core each time that you come down onto him and make his thrusts hit you harder, deeper. 

“Aemond, Aemond, Aemond…” you blabber on his name like a prayer to whatever deity guards these woods, nails digging into the pale freckles scattered across his muscled back.

“What do you want, my darling?” he moans your title in High Valyrian, “ābrazȳrys…” as he walks back to where there’s a slight elevation in the ground so that he can hike up a leg and piston in even deeper, pulling groans right out of your gut, for his slick head keeps bumping and grazing your g-spot in a way that makes your vision go white. 

“Ohh, yes…I want…” 

“Use your words, ābrazȳrys,” he snickers, and you roll your eyes because how dare he. How dare he ask for the very thing he seldom gives, especially when he has you in such a fevered state, knowing the water cannot soothe you, for it had turned warm hours ago, the longer you spent in it. 

“Ahh, I…I want to cum, dear husband.” 

“Hmmm…” 

You whimper when his pace slows down. 

It’s torture. 

Needless torture, this game that he plays.

But he wants to see your pleading eyes first.

So he redirects your gaze, holding your jaw in his hand and making you look at him – not the moon creeping up early through the clouds, not the marvelous greenery surrounding you. 

No, Aemond needs to see your pupils blown with ardor, your slack jaw and your salivating mouth and your raging pulse that makes your breath quicken and nipples all perked up, glistening with droplets of water, for the lake water splashes your chest each time you bounce on his cock.  

When he sees you weakened with unbearable pleasure, does he take mercy.

His grip on your back tightens, the muscles of his legs contract to plunge inside of you harder, harder, harder – 

– Until you collapse with a hysterical groan, throwing your head back and tattooing crescent moons on his shoulder blades. 

He snakes both arms around your hips, gluing you to him to fill you to the brim with his cum and not let any drop spill and ruin the iridescent waters that envelop you.  

“I’d say…” you sigh, opening your eyes to see the gorgeous image that Aemond makes with his blushing skin, lax muscles and half-lidded eye. “I’d say this has been one of the best anniversaries, my prince.” 

“Right as always, ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys” 

My beautiful wife. 

The gal of this man, you swear.

He speaks in the language of his ancestors and you can’t help but contract your walls around him, feeling him start to harden once more. His stamina is truly god-like. 

How could you have guessed such a thing, knowing what a calm boy he used to be. 

Nothing else matters but this truth that only the two of you know; how childhood friendship can endure, that a marriage pact can evolve.

And what the two of you share, in life and in this moment. 

And what you plan on doing for the rest of the afternoon.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #house of the dragon fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #my writing #ewan mitchell

[hackedmotionsensors]

I do this about once a year but here it is again

Hey so we all know I love coffee right? And I have a full caffeine addiction right?

This is just a reminder that energy drinks are

PHENOMINALLY

BAD FOR YOU

Especially if you’re a young adult or a teen (obviously don’t give them to children???). Older adults shouldn’t drink them either but I think you hit a certain age and the desire to slam a rockstar might not be as high. I think for the most part you hit your thirties and would rather be the sleepy time bear on the tea box rather than a MONSTERRRR.

But since there’s a new tiktok viral thread of some doofus marketing his energy drink (tho not using the hastag ad which is...illegal [Danny Gonzales has a whole video about it) and there are videos of kids who don’t normally drink tea or coffee trying these energy drinks bc they “taste like bubblegum and crack” and then absolutely losing it.

A link here is the health and human services government website

Here’s a Harvard article about it

Let me break down what I read this morning on about four different medical sites

Energy drinks companies are not mandated by any US Food and Drug law to list the quantity of their caffeine. A cup of coffee (about 8oz) will have around 100mg of caffeine in it. That’s black coffee straight from the coffee bean. No additives. 

A regular can of basically any energy drink will have about four times as much caffeine. And that’s from THE CAFFEINE aspect. That’s not adding in guarana, sugar, taurine, ginsing, vitamin b etc. They do not have to add the total quantity of all of this in the caffeine measurements if they even add it at all.

So not only have you quadrupled the caffeine content you’re also slamming a fuck ton of sugar. A 16 oz can of Rockstar will have 63mg of sugar in it. A kit-kat bar has 23g for a four bar serving. 

The other warning these sites gave were that things like red bull vodka are extremely dangerous but that’s more along the lines of slamming a bunch of caffeine and sugar with alcohol and not realizing how dehydrated you’ve become. Plus a stimulant and a depressant at the same time isn’t always a great idea. That’s a one way ticket to barf city.

Another thing and this is my number 1 reason why I tell people PLEASE do not drink energy drinks AT ALL. My first day on the job at the hospital and one of my patients (I delivered food so its not like I was a nurse or a doctor) was in the room because his kidneys had failed because he just kept slamming energy drinks. Now that’s probably an outlier but I think the environment behind energy drinks is more to do with RADICALLL COOL GUY E-SPORTS OR REGULAR SPORTS!! MOTOR BIKE YEAHHHH attitude (similar to the whole mountain dew do the dew vibe) combined with people who are forced to work excruciatingly long hours (Doctors, Nurses, College students, people with multiple jobs, people who have to wake up at extremely terrible hours like teamsters) and that rather than give them appropriate working hours so they aren’t burnt out they promote these horrible drinks to force them into working longer harder hours. Or people like twitch streamers or e-sports players who have promos or sponsors because whats one thing gamers love to do ? Stay up all night and day gaming. What can help you do that? Fucking energy drinks. Instead of giving proper hours and saying hey I’m gonna take a solid eight hours from gaming and I’m going to go the fuck to sleep they keep pumping these awful drinks into their system.

Again. I drink  AAA LOTTTTT of coffee. I was a barista. And the only time I’ve felt like my heart was going to EXPLODE was drinking a starbucks energy drink so I could stay awake in class. Nevermind that part of the problem was that I was working and going to school and drawing all day and night instead of going to sleep and drinking water.

Energy drinks are marketed to teens and young adults so basically this is a long post from an older person BEGGING YOU PLEASE do not drink Energy drinks. We’ve had coffee and tea for almost as long as humans have been alive. We KNOW what coffee and tea does. If you need a boost of energy you’re safer having a coffee or a candy bar or just getting a little bit of exerise. You’d be surprised what a walk around campus or the neighborhood can do. Or drink water. DRINK WATER!!!!!!!!!

YOU NEED WATER!!! Humans are basically houseplants. We need sunlight, water and fertilizer(or food if you will). 

#i'm never gonna get that e sports sponsorship now lmfao

[aughtpunk]

White is Not the New Black

Crowley woke up feeling weird. Like, weird weird.

He laid in bed a good three hours just trying to find the best way to describe said odd feeling. Like if someone spackled a crack with whipped cream and for some unknown reason it worked. Like a completely boneless adorable kitten that kept slipping through his fingers. Like floating safely on an inner-tube in the middle of a stormy ocean. Like stepping on dew-covered grass knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt there were no red ants for miles around. It felt like the time Warlock decided to bake cookies using marshmallows and kool-aid mix. It felt, for reasons Crowley could not comprehend, a bit like Aziraphale.

So of course Crowley decided to ignore it.

Crowley was an expert at ignoring his feelings. He should be, considering he’s been doing it since before The Fall. There was nothing with feelings per say, it was just they tended to get in the way of things. Feelings made it hard to do evil. Feelings compelled Crowley to save children, to save Aziraphale, to save those two bloody unicorns, to save Aziraphale, he was thinking about Aziraphale again, he was thinking about Aziraphale and that odd feeling in his chest only got worse. 

“Shutupshutupshutup.” Crowley muttered to himself as he watered his plants. He opened his mouth to snap at them only to find that nothing would come out. It was as the feeling was forming a wall between him and his usual projected self-loathing that morning. Crowley fought down the staticy sensation and gave being mean to his plants another shot.

“You,” He said pointing his finger at a particular irritating Norfolk Island Pine, “you can do better! Don’t make your needles as sharp! Stop looking so smug for being mistaken for a Christmas tree! There better not be a single dropped needle on this floor or, or,” the words scratched at his throat, unable to escape but unable to settle as well, “or I’ll gift you to Aziraphale this Christmas! And you know he’ll go full Victorian on dressing you. He’ll use candles. Real candles.”

That got the Norfolk Island Pine to stop looking so smug. 

(Crowley was rather proud of himself for the sudden popularity of the Norfolk Island Pine. He had convinced humans it would be a perfect Christmas plant, what with it being vaguely pine-ish and having the word Pine in its name. In reality the Norfolk Island Pine was possibly the worst plant to have around the holidays. It was a tropical plant that needed high heat and even higher humidity with multiple waterings a day and frankly had no business being in a cold dry climate. Because of this they tended to drop dead the second they left the store. The fact that once it died the dried pine needles became as sharp as rose thorns but three times as long was just an added bonus.)

Crowley rubbed an odd spot on his chest. Mentioning Christmas had only made the odd feeling grow feelers and wiggle about. Maybe he just needed coffee. Or a drink. Or Aziraphale.

Don’t think about Aziraphale.

Evil, he decided, he needed to go do evil. That would fix this right up.

***

Being evil didn’t help.

It did cheer him up in that the-misfortune-of-others-is-hilarious sort of way, but it did nothing to get rid of the feeling in his chest. In fact, the feeling felt as if it was growing. He couldn’t rid himself of the mental image of it being this multi-limbed fuzzy insect lodged in his chest. Right between his lungs, he decided. Just this spider-wasp-scorpion thing clawing at his internal organs. In a metaphorical sort of way, of course. 

After an afternoon spent causing traffic jams and making people forget their significant other’s birthdays, Crowley knew there was no use putting it off any longer. He had to go see Aziraphale. Not that he didn’t want to see Aziraphale! In fact he felt totally the opposite way. Ever since they toasted to the world Crowley’s only desire was to spend more time with Aziraphale. Possibly all of his time. He never wanted to leave his angel’s side and that was a problem because there was no way Aziraphale wanted the same. 

This was Aziraphale! The dear angel who spent a decade re-reading every book he owned because he quote ‘didn’t feel like going out’ end quote. Crowley knew that Aziraphale would be sick of him hanging around within days. Yes, they were best friends. Yes, they had chosen each other over Heaven and Hell. But that didn’t mean Aziraphale wanted Crowley to hold his hand and never let go.

The odd feeling wasn’t love. Crowley knew this because he had felt love for Aziraphale since Eden. He could feel it still as he drove over to the bookstore. His love had no odd descriptions attached beyond the usual overwhelming yearning for returned devotion. Not a single insect leg or boneless adorable animal to be seen. Just love. Simple, pure, unrequited love.

The bookstore was closed of course. Crowley could count the times he had seen it open on one hand (He would have been able to even if he got two fingers cut off before the count). That didn’t stop Crowley from opening the clearly-locked front door and walking in. The shop knew better than to keep Crowley out. 

“Angel?” Crowley called out as he entered the shop. Even after all of these weeks there was always a funny twist in his stomach when he came to visit Aziraphale. This feeling, unlike the love and the squirmy feeling that current reminded Crowley of a bowl of ice cream covered in stale pieces of candy corn, was one of dread. The fear that Crowley would find the shop burning once more and his angel missing for good. Crowley had managed to convince himself that the reason he visited Aziraphale so often was to check in on things, and not because it was the only way for that fear to die down.

Crowley was very, very good at ignoring his feelings.

“Crowley! You’re just in time! I need your help with this.” Aziraphale popped out from between the shelves holding what must have been someone’s lost smartphone. Yes, a lost smartphone that just so happened to have little angel wing stickers on the case. The white case. The sparkly white case. Oh no.

“Oh no.” Crowley groaned, “Angel, where did you get that? Why did you get that?”

The angel beamed with happiness even as he kept his eyes glued to the screen. “It was Miss Device’s idea! This way we can keep in touch with each other in case anything happens! I already have the numbers for Adam and all of his friends, too. We really must go visit them some day. Pepper, the girl who killed War, she’s trying to explain how I can set up a twitter account and I thought oh, Crowley helped make that, I should ask him--”

Aziraphale finally lifted his head up enough to look at Crowley.

He froze on the spot, causing the phone slipped right out of his hands and land on bookshop floor with a muffled thud.

(Luckily the phone liked the angel stickers so much it refused let its screen crack.)

“Uh.” Crowley cleared his throat once the silent went on a beat too long. “Angel? Aziraphale? You okay?”

Aziraphale didn’t respond right away. His eyes were wide with shock, his lips parted, and he looked one loud noise away from passing out on the spot. “Crowley,” he finally managed, “Are you okay?”

Crowley almost lied out of habit, but the feeling stopped him again. Well. If anyone knew about weird feeling it would have to be Aziraphale. “No? Kinda. I feel...off.”

“Off.” Aziraphale echoed.

“Yeah. Like, like there’s something in me that shouldn’t be there.”

“I see. What does it feel like?”

“Like if someone glued fake fur to a balloon and inflated it in my chest.”

Aziraphale didn’t respond to that.

“And the balloon is filled with those little sphere things that grow when you put them in water.”

Aziraphale closed his mouth.

“What the hell are those called, anyway?”

Aziraphale took a few steps forward. 

“I’ve seen them used for growing bamboo.”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale finally said once he was within arm’s reach of his dear friend. 

“I should try that sometime--”

“Crowley, show me your wings this instant!”

Crowley didn’t even think about questioning Aziraphale. He did as he was told, unfurling his wings for the first time since Almost-End and giving them a good flap to stretch them out. A few feathers shook loose, as they tended to, sending bits of white fluff flying across the shop floor. “There? Happy? I know, they’re stunning, I know, but that doesn’t--”

Bits of white fluff.

White fluff.

White.

White.

Crowley spread his wings out wide enough to circle around him and Aziraphale. 

White. They were white. Pure, brilliant white feathers sparkling in the bookshop’s dim light.

Aziraphale took Crowley’s shaking hands within his own and said in a hoarse whisper. “Crowley. That weird feeling you’ve been experiencing is holiness.”

***

“Fuck.”

Crowley laid on Aziraphale’s couch, waiting to see if anything would happen. When the feeling--the feeling of God’s Grace--didn’t go away, he decided to experiment a little more.

“Fuck. Shit. Arse. Arsehole. Dick. Prick. Fucking shitting arshole prick cu--”

“Crowley, cursing isn’t going to make you re-fall.” 

Aziraphale placed a nice hot cup of tea on the small side table next to the couch. Not close enough to imply that Crowley had to drink it, but close enough to let the demon know the option was there. 

No, Aziraphale reminded himself, not a demon anymore. 

He was still kicking himself for not noticing the second Crowley stepped into the shop. Demons didn’t give off the same energy as angels. In fact, they absorbed it. Standing around a pack of demons was spiritually akin to getting one’s shoelace stuck in an escalator. Crowley’s pull just happened to be weak enough that Aziraphale stopped noticing it after the first few thousand years. At most all it did was given Aziraphale the heads up that Crowley was somewhere in the immediate area. But now?

Now Crowley was burning. 

The ex-demon (that was easier than thinking of him as an angel) was absolutely crackling with holy energy. It was probably strong enough to give everyone in Soho a lovely day. Maybe even powerful enough for them to find a fiver in an old jacket pocket! Aziraphale hadn’t felt such pure holiness since...well...since before. Before it all. 

Crowley sat up and removed his sunglasses. “What about my eyes? How do they look.”

“Still very snake-like.” Aziraphale said, which was the truth. Unfortunately the truth also required him to keep going. “But they’re less yellow and more um, gold.”

“Gold.”

“Yes.”

“In what way?”

“In a...um...golden-angel-halo sort of way.”

Crowley promptly fell back onto the couch. Aziraphale waited for him to say something, anything, but when it was clear Crowley wasn’t going to say a word Aziraphale did his best to fill in the silence between them. 

“It must have been the whole saving-the-world thing that did it. Too much good all in one go. And frankly I don’t see why you’re pouting about this! Isn’t this good? Isn’t un-falling, ah, isn’t rising exactly what all demons strive for? Don’t you feel...better?”

Silence. 

“You told me falling felt like having a part of you violently ripped out. That demons aren’t filled with evil, they’re filled with nothing. Absolutely empty! You said, and I quote, it feels like slowly bleeding out for eternity! That you spend the first thousand years on Earth simply getting used to the pain!”

“I was drunk.” Crowley finally replied. 

“Drunk means you were telling the truth.”

Crowley let out a deep sigh before rolling onto his back. “Drunk means I was melodramatic. Falling didn’t hurt that much.”

“But it did hurt, didn’t it?”

Crowley didn’t answer that. 

“Does it hurt now?”

“Hasn’t hurt in ages, angel. Decades. Not even sure when it faded. Just realized one day it was...gone.”

Aziraphale sat down at the other end of the couch, just far enough to let Crowley’s feet dangle in peace. Crowley was lying. He knew if he pressed Crowley would not only tell him the exact day but the exact moment down to the millisecond. Not that Aziraphale needed to do that. He already knew the answer. “The church.”

Crowley stared up at the ceiling above. “Yeah. After the church.”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure when his hand moved onto Crowley’s ankle, or when he begun to soothingly trace a circle against his friend’s skin with his thumb. Funny. He had always dreamed of what life would be like if Crowley was an angel. If they were on the same side since the very beginning. 

(What Aziraphale nor Crowley realized is that they had been on the same side since the beginning. Their side was formed the second they stood side-by-side on the Garden’s wall and made small talk. God had looked down upon them and said oh, oh this is new. This is interesting.)

“Do you really hate angels this much?” Aziraphale said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“What? Aziraphale, angel, course I don’t.” Crowley said as he finally sat up. “It’s just that it’s, well, it’s wrong. All of it feels wrong! It’s like, it’s like there’s always been this balance, right? You being all goody-angel and me being all, all demony-demon! It, it worked, didn’t it? Six thousand years it worked fine! I mean, humans go on about having a bloody angel and demon on their shoulders, right? No one ever goes oh no I’m in a terribly difficult situation, better consult the angel on my shoulder and the angel on my other should who is just like the first one but dresses in black. But not his wings! Nooooo, can’t have an angel with black wings. Gotta be white! Perfect bloody bone-bleached wings! Only pretty clean doves allowed in Heaven! Noah never would have accepted that olive branch if it was being held by a damned raven.”

Aziraphale stared into Crowley’s desperate now-golden eyes, his heart ready to burst from his overwhelming desire to help his dear friend. Yet at the same time thought over everything Crowley had said with a fine-tooth comb. He knew Crowley better than himself. He knew the snake always had a terrible habit of showing his hand. He also knew that sometimes Crowley was just...Crowley.

“Crowley. Darling. Are you upset because white wings ruins your aesthetic?” 

“They bloody destroyed it!” Crowley shouted as he threw up his arms in defeat. “White wings! Six thousand years of black going with everything and then I get white wings dropped on me like a damn missile! Do you know what white wings go with, angel?”

“Cream and tartan?”

“Nothing in my bloody closet, that’s what!” As if to punctuate the point Crowley outstretched his wings again and pointed at them as if saying ‘see?’. And as much as Aziraphale hated to admit it Crowley was right. The white wings didn’t go with Crowley’s normal attire at all. 

Aziraphale struggled internally with his centuries of British politeness. “Now Crowley, they’re very...well maintained. Impeccable grooming as always, darling. All the feathers are pointing the right way. Yes. Very good wings.”

Crowley sunk into the couch. “That bad?”

“You look like a salesman's half-hearted costume for an office Halloween party.”

“You don’t have to rub it in, angel.” 

Crowley drew his wings close to his body, using them to create a feathery barrier between him and the rest of the world. Aziraphale had seen him do it many times, usually after humanity had done something awful or when a TV show he really liked ended. The worst part was that these sulk sessions could last months, if not years. Aziraphale had to do something to shake his now angelic-snake friend out of it before it got bad.

“I have an idea.” 

Crowley peered at him through his feathers. “Good idea, or bad idea?”

Aziraphale thought it over carefully in his mind before settling on “Stupid idea.”

***

It was an immensely stupid idea. So stupid that if any of their human friends were around, yes even the children, they would have sat the angel and slightly-different-angel down and explained why this was a stupid idea. Why it wouldn’t work. That feathers don’t work that way. Ink doesn’t work that way. That the world didn’t work on cartoon logic. But they weren’t there, which meant Aziraphale’s stupid idea worked perfectly.

“There! That’s the last one!” Aziraphale stepped back with brush in hand to admire his work. The ink had soaked through Crowley’s feathers, turning them that lovely shade of endless void they used to be. “Now we just have to wait for it to dry--”

Crowley snapped his fingers.

“--or you could be an impatient child and miracle them dry. Really, Crowley?” 

“Just because I’m all holy now doesn’t mean I’m into any of that patience is a virtue nonsense.” Crowley stretched his wings up and out, their feathers once more the color of the space between the stars. He twisted his wings as best he could, marveling at the way the bookshop’s dim light danced across the feathers. “They’re perfect, angel! Course we’ll have to do touch ups whenever new feathers come in but that’s a small price to pay for fashion. What do you think, uh, Aziraphale? You okay?”

Aziraphale stood there, brush still in hand, his lip trembling the way it always did when he was upset. “Crowley. Are you really okay with this? Being...one of us?”

Crowley took the brush from Aziraphale’s hand and dropped it into the large ink pot on the floor. “It isn’t like I’ve never been an angel before. Besides, I’m not with,” he waved his hand vaguely in the direction of heaven, “them. We’re on our own side, remember? I’m not with Heaven as an angel the same way I wasn’t with Hell as a demon. I just got to get used to this...holy-feeling.”

Aziraphale removed his cotton gloves and let them fall to the floor. “Wonderful, isn’t it?”

“It feels like someone handed me a baby lamb wrapped in a blanket and told me that if I drop it I’ll die.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Crowley shoved his hands as deep into his jacket pockets could go before mumbling “Yeah it’s alright, I guess.” 

“I’ll just have to be a little bit more of a bastard to balance everything out.”

They smiled at each other, as they always did, right within arm's reach yet so far away. There had always been that barrier between them even as they stood side-by-side at the end of the world. A barrier that, in roughly thirty seconds, both men would realize wasn’t there anymore. Crowley reached the realization first, most likely because of those long dangly legs of his.

“I’m not a demon.”

“Yes, Crowley. We’ve established that.”

“I’m an angel.”

“Yes, Crowley.”

“Aziraphale, we’re both angels.”

Crowley may have reached the conclusion first, but Aziraphale was the first one to move. He closed the distance between them, happy to find that Crowley was already leaning down enough to welcome his angel with a kiss. When the world didn’t try to end again they followed it up with a second, a third, and then quickly lost count in the double-digits. They spoke between the gaps, neither man willing to let go long enough for proper dialog.

“I was afraid--”

“I thought we couldn’t--”

“What if Heaven found out--”

“What if you Fell--”

“What if it hurt you--”

“What if your saliva counted as holy water or something--”

“That’s not how it--”

“Doesn’t matter, not anymore--”

“I love you--”

“I love you so much, angel--”

“You can’t call me that anymore now that you’re,” Aziraphale suddenly pulled away, his eyes wide, “oh fuck, you’re an angel. If you’re an angel that means Heaven--”

“--Will find out.” Crowley said, slightly annoyed that the kissing had to stop for a bit. The second this conversation was done, however, they were going right back at it. “And Hell. Bugger all.”

Aziraphale reached up and tugged on Crowley’s jacket enough to pull him back down for a softer kiss this time. “Maybe we should beat them to it with an official announcement?”

“Angel, you got that right-bastard look in your eyes.” Crowley laughed, the holiness in his chest mixing in with the rest of his love. Once combined they settled in naturally, allowing the odd feelings to finally pass. “Another stupid idea?”

“Better. This idea is hilarious.”

***

There were angels missing in Heaven.

Gabriel flipped through the ledger again, as if the missing names would simply magically reappear. Oh look, those couple hundred names were just hiding in the index! Nothing to worry about here. No angels going AWOL and seemingly vanishing from Heaven’s gaze for good. But no matter how many times Gabriel went through the old ledger not a single missing-angel name popped up. The worst part was that it wasn’t like they fell because their name would have been scribbled out like the rest of the demons.

He paused mid-flip as an absolute terrible thought occurred to him. Some people thought Gabriel wasn’t smart, or a bit thick, or any other number of phrases that meant he wasn’t the brightest angel. This was only partially true. He--and many other angels--may have been clueless when it came to Earthly matters, but were very sharp when it came to celestial matters. That was why Gabriel returned to the first page of the ledger and began counting the scribbled out demon names. 

Two hundred and seventy-five were missing, the same amount as the missing angels.

Gabriel closed the book with loving care before pressing it against his face to muffle his screams. He found screaming very therapeutic. He couldn’t really curse at God as that was a big no-no, but he could scream to the universe at large about that damned angel and that double-damned demon and their damn-damn-bloody-damned ineffable plan and--

Gabriel’s scream session was cut off by his holy smartphone going off. He could scream at whoever was on the other side, he thought. Even better! Gabriel answered the phone and was just about to start bellowing when the person on the other end cut him off.

“GABE! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!”

Beelzebub. Great. His eternity wasn’t going bad enough. “Beez--”

“DO NOT CALL ME BEEZZZZZZ!”

Gabriel took a deep breath before continuing with “Beez, if this is about the missing names in the ledger I’ll have you know I had nothing to do with it, Heaven had nothing to do with it, and if you actually sat down to read the thing you would see that there’s just as many angels missing as demons--”

“I didn’t mean that! I meant the pizzzzzzzza party!”

“The what?”

***

“The Pizzzzza party!” Beelzebub sunk down on their throne, phone in one hand and slice of pizza in the other. “Hell is full of pizzzza!”

There was a beat of silence on the other end before Gabriel replied, “What like, just lying around in piles or--”

“No! There’s, there’s tables! And streamers! Balloons! There are balloons here, Gabriel! In bright cheery colors! And there’s this one really long table full of different types of candy and and ice cream it’s supposed to be a, a,” Beelzebub lowered the phone just enough to shout “Ligur! What did you say it was called?”

“An ice cream sundae bar!” Ligur shouted back.

“An ice cream sundae bar!”

“Hold up, didn’t you tell me that Ligur was dead?”

Beelzebub shrugged even though they knew Gabriel couldn’t see it. “He showed up right before the trial. Said he just stopped being non-existent.” 

“I got better!” Ligur shouted again. 

(Of course Ligur was better. When Adam said he was going to put the world back together he meant it. That included any and all demons killed over the course of the week. There were also a lot more bees and whales than before but Adam figured no one would notice.)

“Anyway!” Beelzebub snapped, “No one down here did this so it must have been one of your lot!”

“My lot?! If you think any of ‘my lot’ would sully themselves with pizza and ice cream--”

“No but your lot is more likely to use their powers to create a pizzzzzza party large enough for all of Hell because they thought it was nice or something!”

“I am insulted! I will have you know there’s not a single angel up here who would waste even a drop of mercy for ‘your lot’ and you know it!”

“Well if it wasn’t me, and if wasn’t you, then...who…” Beelzebub let their voice trail off. Much like their counterpart, Beelzebub was not stupid. But they were a fly, and sometimes it took their brain a bit of buzzing around before landing long enough to connect the dots. 

“Fuck me.” Beelzebub said the exact same time Gabriel said “For fuck’s sake.”

It was at that moment Hastur popped out of the milling crowd of Hell and said “Hey boss? Ligur found a cake and uh, I think you need to see it.”

“Of course there’s cake.” Beelzebub said as they shoved their phone back into their pocket without bothering to hang up (Butt dialing was an invention of Hell after all). They wolfed down their slice of pizza disturbingly quick and followed Hastur through the crowd, eager to get this over with. If you asked why Beelzebub was impatient they would say something about needing the time to plot against this grand insult against Hell and all of its demons. They would not under any circumstances say because they wanted one of the cake’s corner pieces before a far less worthy demon claimed it. 

The crowd parted as Beelzebub swept through, giving them a clear path to this mysterious cake. Beelzebub was slightly disappointed to see that it was round, therefore meaning there were no corner pieces to claim. In just a few more minutes Beelzebub would be even more disappointed when they found out it was an angel food cake. But at that very second all they could focus on was the sprawling script written across the cake in flowing gold-frosting letters punctuated with a tiny angel wing on both sides.

He’s mine.

- A. Z. F.

***

Back in Heaven Gabriel didn’t hear Beelzebub’s frustrated scream on the other side of the phone because he was too busy staring at a sticker. 

He had no idea how he missed it during his numerous searches through the ledger. Whoever had placed it in the ledger did it in a way that it covered a name that could have been angelic or demonic scribbled-out.  It was absolutely hideous. A mess of holographic rainbows and sparkles designed to catch the light of Heaven at just the right angle to annoy Gabriel with its glare. The sticker also so happened to be in the shape of a black and red snake wearing sunglasses.

Gabriel couldn’t even find it in himself to scream. 

The door to Gabriel’s office opened as Michael stepped in with rather puzzled expression on his face. “Gabriel, I apologize for interrupting but I just got word from my informant that there’s been a massive miracle performed in Heaven and Hell and I wanted to speak to you about--”

Michael stopped talking. Odd.

“About…?” Gabriel asked as he finally tore his eyes off the garish sticker. Michael was staring at him. “About what?”

No, he thought, Michael wasn’t staring at him. He was staring up and over Gabriel’s shoulder. Dread pooled in Gabriel’s stomach as he turned around in his heavenly office chair to see what was behind him. 

There, right on the back wall above his desk, was a large portrait of The Serpent of Eden, Tempter of Mankind, Boyfriend of That Angel We Don’t Talk About, and a General Royal Pain in the Ass, Crowley. He was grinning from ear-to-ear, shooting double fingerguns to make it absolutely clear that he was far cooler than anyone looking at the painting. Aziraphale was there too, pressed up against the serpent’s side with his head propped up on Crowley’s shoulder. And there, under the painting, was a shining golden plaque with a single line engraved across its surface in a style that Gabriel didn’t know, but any Earthbound human would recognize immediately as comic sans. 

ANGEL OF THE MILLENNIUM - ANTHONY J CROWLEY

Gabriel didn’t bother to muffle his screams this time.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #risen crowley #Aziraphale/Crowley #aziraphale #crowley #look #I've seen so many Fallen Aziraphale fics #and not a single Risen Crowley #So it's time to fix that #In an extremely silly way

[love-the-wittle-things]

OKAY there are REASONS why you shouldn’t EVER leave a little on their own.

1) they will get lonely and if you are gone for too long they will start to think that you left them

2) they will get into the sweets

3) they will purposely go out of their way to break every rule they can

4) (also my personal favourite) they will go and chug 3 liters of Mountain Dew and get loaded with sugar and go absolutely crazy. I know this because just now my Baba didn’t answer me for 5 minutes and by the time they did, I had chugged 3 whole liters of Mountain Dew. 

SO WARNING TO ALL THE CGS OUT THERE:

Do  N O T  leave your little alone for more than 2 minutes.

Also, I just wanted to say, I am very sorry for not being active recently. I have had family issues involving my parents. Sincerest apologies.

Edit: *slight trigger warning: mention of passing and bodily problems* Please, please, PLEASE, do NOT drink more than two sippy cups of soda a day. I just wanted to warn people about the dangers of drinking as much soda as I did. It is highly likely to cause  acute fluid intoxication, which is, in most cases, fatal. If you have recently drank too much soda, please try to flush it out of your system. Do NOT drink anything for a while, as it can make it worse, and try to throw it up. Caregivers and Littles, if you have more than 2 of these symptoms after drinking a lot of soda, please go to the hospital:

Loss of energy

Nausea and vomiting

Confusion

Muscle spasms

Low blood pressure

Dark scanty urine

Irritability, disorientation and neurological manifestations

Convulsions

I also wanted to thank that kind stranger who saw that I had drank a lot of soda and quickly told me to try to throw it up. If it had not been for him, I would be in the hospital currently.

stay at home and stay safe 

Love you all <3

#little spacce #caregiver space #little comminuty #little lifestyle #agere #agere community #agere lifestyle #cglre #cglre comminuty #cglre lifestyle #this was typed in less than 2 minutes because I now have lightning fingers

[silverandarsenic-hcs]

Ghost BC + Breakups HCs

so if you know this or not i also post all the hcs i write onto a thing on wattpad and i got a lovely message on there with a few requests and this is the first one!

What would the Papas, Cardi C and the Ghouls do or how would they go on if they and s/o would break up bc it doesnt work ?

i am sad. these are going to be sad. and then you will be sad too. 

Papa I: he’s just plain old sad. he doesn’t sugar coat it, he doesn’t shut himself off. he heals the most healthily out of the entire group. without you in his life, something is missing, but that doesn’t mean he cant go on without it. and he will. he’ll get his work done, get back to any hobbies he forgot about when all of his spare time was taken up with you, he’ll hang out with friends. he’s not afraid to let people know when he’s upset and when he needs to be alone, and hopes they understand. but he’ll call. he’ll text. he’ll invite you to lunch. he doesn’t understand why you two cant just be friends, even after everything. you say that you cant be friends because of everything, and it cuts just a little deeper than the breakup itself. hes losing you. really losing you, forever.

Papa II: he doesn’t let himself get invested quickly. he doesn't have crushes, or eyes for everyone, and doesn’t have time for the trivial. when he says something, he means it. when he says he loves you, he meant it. and when you told him things were over, you meant it. and he knows that. he’s angry for a long time. that he loved you so much, and showed you a softer side of him no one else got to see, and that you could leave him when he thought things were fine. he doesn't call, and tells himself and everyone else that he wouldn't answer if you did. he would. once the heat of anger dies down and the embers cool, hes just empty in a way he wasn't before. there is a space in his heart that should be taken up by you and your smile, but you're not there, so it’s vacant. 

Papa III: here is your gutted and forlorn papa III im sure you have all thought about. there's a bouquet of flowers in the trash can. he sits on the window sill and stairs outside to the spot in the garden he picked them from, just for you. it stays dark in his house, without your light. he stays in the shower for two long. stays in bed for too long. he just.... lingers. everything he does reminds him of you. the cold side of the bed. cooking dinner just for one, now. the silence in his house without your loud music or tv shows or laughter. he wants to call you, but only tries when he’s so drunk he cant breathe anymore. he knows you wont answer, but at least he tries, and at least he gets to hear your voicemail.

Cardinal Copia: if it wasn’t extremely serious between you two, he’ll act like nothing is wrong and that he knew it was never gonna work, even if he’s upset about it. he doesn’t want people thinking he got in over his head like they say he does. but if you two talked about getting married, being together forever, soulmates type love, he will spare no expense at trying to forget you. he’ll do whatever it takes, things that aren’t like him, things he doesn’t want to do, hes willing to try anything. he’ll drink, and gamble, and sleep around if he has to. but when he’s not trying to forget you, he’s afraid one day all his efforts might work, and that he really will lose the last of you he has left.

Aether: Aether’s Soul Has Left The Chat. he gets the worst out of all of them. III shuts himself out, Copia acts out of character, and II gets angry, but they have nothing on Aether. He won’t leave his house for anything, under any circumstances. he has the person who delivers his food and alcohol meet him in the living room. he’ll drink himself stupid and drink to keep the hangover off. low energy, he’ll piss in bottles in the room so he doesn't have to get up and go to the bathroom. high energy, he will take a bat and smash every single thing in his house and everything you left behind. he doesn't care if he shouldn’t be doing it. he doesn't care if people are worried. he doesn't care if his friends need him - at least for the moment, hes so sick of being the kind dad friend. he’s sick of letting everyone unload their problems on him, and just taking it, and sick of constantly being nice and open and letting himself get hurt. losing you, that was the last straw.

Swiss: gets drunk about it with the lads the next night. that’s about it. he doesn’t really like to be sad, so he just doesn’t do it. you can say hes bottling it up and repressing, you can say he never cared, but he’s just really good at accepting things like this and moving on. the only change is that he spends a little more time alone. most likely to go on vacation to Cuba alone to find himself and relax on a white sandy beach near the ocean. and who does he meet in Cuba? the New love of his life whos way better than the last one. he’ll bring home some girl to live with him and bring her to every party, to make you jealous if thats what you say, but he really has already moved on. his infatuation with new toys knows no bounds.

Mountain: a lot of alone time. if he cant be with you he doesnt want to be with anyone. but he takes care of himself. eats, does his work, goes outside, he’ll go walk through the forest with his hands in his pockets untl he realizes hes lost, and has to find his way home. most likely to take a vacation, just to get away and find himself and be alone for a while. he gets over it relatively quickly, mostly because hes the one actually taking care of his health while he’s going through everything

Rain: He just wants to be with his friends and take his mind off things. he’ll talk about his feelings if he’s in the mood, but he would much rather get cozy with his friends and watch a few movies or play a board game. even if he’s talking about it, and not actively being crazy, he still bottles up a lot of it. he doesn’t want to burden his friends or have them thinking he’s weaker than they already do, so he keeps a lot more in than he lets out. but after a while, he’ll let it out, but only to himself. he’ll do the healing and the soul searching to make sure he really is okay again before telling people he is, and especially okay before he ever looks at another person in that way again.

Dew: he doesn’t care?? haha! he never cared! he will stop at absolutely nothing to make you feel like shit for ever thinking he loved you or that he was capable of such a thing. hes the one you tell your friends is crazy in the group text. he tells himself he hates you and that he never cared and that he isn't hurt so much so often that he starts to believe it. he starts to accept his own lies as the truth - but that's what he does with everything. he pretends it doesn't exist or matter until it doesn’t anymore. one day that man is going to explode and who will be there to pick up the pieces? probably aether if he gets it together any time soon.

- Kat

#honestly i stan mentally unhinged aether #a #ask #hc #the band ghost #ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #papa i #papa ii #papa iii #cardinal copia #copia #cardi c #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus i #papa emiritus ii #the nameless ghouls #aether ghoul #aether #swiss #swiss army ghoul #dewdrop #dewdrop ghoul #ember #ember ghoul #rain #rain ghoul #mountain #mountain ghoul

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #275

i’m anxious and my head is hectic so i can’t think of a single song lyric to put here lmao

Have you ever dated anybody online? Yes, but we met up in person for a week+ at a time multiple times. Ever been stalked? No. Ever stalked someone? No. I never got to that point with him because shit’s creepy. Have you ever been called a slut, hoe, skank, whore? Only playfully by close friends because that’s how we show affection sometimes lmao. Have you ever snuck out before? No. Do you eat meat? I wish I didn’t, but I do. If so, do you like meat? Yes. If not, do you have anything against people who eat meat? N/A Have you ever gotten a manicure or pedicure? I went with my old friend and sisters on rare occasions just to hang out. Have you ever been close to getting kidnapped? Jc no, thank fuck. HAVE you ever been kidnapped? No. I’d be so goddamn terrified. Do you listen to Lykke Li? Never heard of ‘em. Have you ever self-harmed? Yes. Do you have any eating disorders? No. Have you ever met a celebrity? No. Do you like Monster Energy or do you prefer other energy drinks? Astonishingly with how much I love soda, I am nooot an energy drink fan. They taste like straight-up poison. Describe the best day of your life? I don’t really know what that would be. About how many times a week do you skip class or just school in general? When I was in school, I’d fake sick as a kid rarely, then in high school I had quite a few mental health days. College, too. Have you ever been suspended from school? No. Have you ever been expelled? No. Do you role-play? Only on designated forums and in serious stories. I need substance behind it. Irl, sexual, and pretty much any other RP doesn’t interest me. Do you watch Degrassi? I never did, no. What is one of the saddest novels you’ve ever read in your lifetime? Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. Jesus fucking Christ. Orbit or 5 Gum? Honestly can’t even remember their tastes… but I THINK I preferred the latter. Have you ever been in a love triangle? No. How bad are your hangovers? I’ve never had one. Do you think Taco Bell is nasty? No. Do you have a jacuzzi? Definitely not. Have you ever broken a bone? If so, what was the cause of it? No. Do you think vegans/vegetarians look down on people who choose to eat animal products? That’s a very generalizing statement… You can’t say that of them all. Some absolutely do, others don’t. Do your friendships tend to last a long time or are they short-lived? Definitely the former. Name the best and worst things about your current or most recent relationship. The best thing was absolutely that I felt accepted for entirely who I was, like I needed to hide not a single thing. The worst thing was easily distance. Fuck distance. How are you? Aggravated at a lot of things. What part of your body are you most insecure about? Absolutely my stomach. What’s one food you would be surprised to hear that someone doesn’t like? Chocolate. I mean I know at least one person who doesn’t, but boy does it catch you off-guard. Do you think your voice is higher or lower than average? It’s definitely lower than the average woman’s. Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers? Oh, loads! I couldn’t even begin to list them all. Is there any food in your bedroom? No. Do you know anyone who has road rage? MY YOUNGER SISTER. GOOD LORD. Riding with her is always a trip. How far away do your grandparents live from you? My only (barely) living one is in New York with family, probably until she dies. It’s like ten hours away. What kinds of cereal are in the cupboard? We have chocolate Special K, Honey Nut Cheerios, a Food Lion rip-off of Rice Krispies, and… maybe one more? Is your mom a big health freak or your dad? Or neither? Neither, really. Given her cancer, high blood sugar, and diabetes though, Mom is much more conscious of what she eats. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? Not that I’m aware of. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards? We don’t have any. Mom and I try to keep snack foods out of the house because we know ourselves well enough to know we WILL eat them too fast. Do you have your mom’s or dad’s hair? Absolutely my mom’s. It’s thick as hell like hers was. What’s the first thing you see when you walk into your bedroom? Probably my massive Nightmare Before Christmas poster above my bed. Do you have any friends who have naturally red hair? Yes. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired? Yep. I’m never going to forget my first band teacher; he was a real comedian with a massive heart. We all adored him and got so excited when he would come back to substitute if our instructor had to miss and he was able to come. Oddly enough, I don’t remember his name… When’s the last time you wore heels? Oh Christ. Maybe Ashley’s wedding? Did I even wear heels? Do you have your mom’s or dad’s eyes? Neither. What’s the best date movie? I am such an average white bitch in how my answer to this will always and vehemently be The Notebook. How long has your current best friend been your best friend? Around three years. Have your parents ever been out of the country? No. Do you swear and yell while playing video games? No. I might curse under my breath. Is there any alcohol in the fridge? Oh I WISH. Do your pets chase after bugs? YUP. Roman loves hunting flies. When’s the last time you were so excited you couldn’t sleep? Why? Excited? Probably not since I was going to see Sara. I don’t know. What is your mom’s favorite movie? Oh shit, good question. How much older is your dad then you? Don’t make me math, please. 30-something years. Do you have any relatives who really spoil you? No. Do you know anyone who has security cameras in their house? Probably. What was the last movie to make you cry? No clue. Has anyone you know ever pulled the fire alarm in school, joking around? I think so? Who was the main character in the last book you read? Starflight. Is the last person you said goodbye to single? No, he’s married to my sister. Who are the last people you saw kiss? Like romantically/on the lips? Ummm probably a couple on Facebook or something. Have you ever posted a fan fiction on a website? No. Do you ever fantasize about your future wedding? Who’s the bride/groom? Not anymore. Do you have any relatives who are expecting a baby really soon? No. My high school friend did just announce she’s pregnant with her second child though. When you get married, who will be the maid of honor/best man? My mom. Does your best friend get along with their parents? Yes, they’re fantastic. Have you ever been in a wedding? What were you? Yes; I was the hideous bridesmaid that just cried all through my sister’s wedding. That was a fucking nightmare. Does it matter to you what kind of shampoo you use? I don’t really care, no. Do you have a sensitive gag reflex? Like STUPID fuckin sensitive. Where are you the most ticklish? Don’t touch my fuckin feet. What was the last situation to upset you? It was a petty envy thing that shouldn’t have upset me, let’s move along. Have you ever had an online argument? I’ve been socially on the Internet since I was 11 and am now 24, take a guess lmao. The general subject of your last text conversation? Asking Sara for permission for something RP-related. What is just down the hall from where you’re located? There’s not really a hall at all; my room opens up into the living room. Do any of your friends know you fill out surveys? Well besides the online friends I have here, no. Do you like the controversial/political surveys? ”It depends on if I have enough opinions (and energy) to give good answers or not.” <<<< Exactly this. Who/What did you last spend time worrying about? Myself and my future and my newfound fear of ending up homeless and hopeless after my parents pass away because I’m a very sorry Adult™. What was the last thing you prepared in the oven? Whoa, who knows. The oven scares me, so I don’t use it myself. When were you last offered something illegal? I don’t think I ever have been, actually. Did you accept or decline that offer? N/A When was the last time that you saw fire? On the way home like a week back or something. Someone was burning stuff in their backyard. Have you ever seen somebody get shot? No. What are you listening to? “Little One” by Highly Suspect. Gorgeous song. Do you chew on your hair? Um no???? Can you talk on the phone while having the tv/radio on? No. What size are all the televisions in your house? I don’t know the measurements, but it’s a large Vizio. One of the few really nice things we got when my parents were together. Do you have health insurance? Yes. How many times have you been pulled over by the cops while driving? Zero. What is one of your favorite movie lines? I don’t know, they’re not really something I memorize. What is one thing you look forward to every day? My morning Mountain Dew lmao it’s my coffee, essentially. What is one thing you dread every day? The inevitable part where I’m bored shitless by early evening. Ever lived through a natural disaster? Lots of hurricanes. What’s the longest you’ve lived without electricity? I wanna say around two days? Maybe even three? I don’t remember. Name all the drugs you have tried: None. Name all of the alcoholic beverages you have tried? Margaritas and sangrias with different types of alcohol that I don’t know. Oh, hard lemonade. Oh yeah, wine too, which was fucking repulsive. Name all the types/brands of cigarettes you have tried: None. What is one thing you stand strongly for? Fucking TRY ME on gay rights. What does your doormat say? We don’t have one. Who was the last person you were on hold with (on the phone)? I don’t remember. Who do you know that’s had a baby recently? Ummm I don’t think any *very* recently. Do you know anyone who got married recently? Again, not very. Do you know anyone who has died recently? No. Do you change songs in the car often? I use my iPod to play over it, where I select the songs to play, so I let them play through. However, if I was actually the driver, I definitely wouldn’t; it wouldn’t really matter because I’m so terrified of driving that I need almost no radio at all. What street sign do you find totally pointless? I’m not familiar enough with them all. What drinking games have you played? None. What made you pick up the last book you started reading? Sara got me into the series. Have you received any bad or troubling news lately? Welcome to 20fuckin20, y’all. When was the last time you were relieved about something? *shrug* What about your life concerns you the most? That I’ll waste it. Is there a common thing most people seem to do without trouble, but it scares you (talking on the phone, driving, interviews, etc)? When was the last time you had to do one of these kinds of things? When I went to the doctor a couple weeks ago, I signed myself in. Yes, that sets my anxiety off because I don’t know how to Talk. When was the last time you went somewhere for the first time? Uhhhhhhhh good question. I don’t go anywhere. What is a situation that makes you feel especially confident? Talking about meerkat behavior ha ha. If you’ve moved out from home, what was the scariest thing about it? What was/is your favorite thing about it? N/A Are there any fictional characters you like even though they’re “bad” or “evil?” What qualities draw you to a character? BITCH yes. I just like charisma. For villains, I really like when there’s a *reason* they’re bad, too, and not so just for the sake of it. And I am a SUCKER for sarcastic lil shit villains. What are your thoughts on “forgiving” murderers, rapists, attackers, etc? Do you think it’s even possible to forgive these people? This is a tough question, after I looked past my initial “hell no.” Like, people change. I suppose it varies case-to-case. What was the last series you finished watching? Do you have any plans to begin another? Actually finished, Ginga Densetsu Weed. I’m sure Sara and I will keep watching Avatar: The Last Airbender next time we see each other. What is one way in which you are different from a year ago? What is one way in which you are still the same? I definitely hate myself more than I did. And that’s the problem: I haven’t developed at all in a year’s time. Is there anything you’ve promised yourself you’ll never do again? Multiple things. Do you prefer fake tanning or real tanning? I prefer not tanning at all. Would you date someone who was addicted to drugs? No. I’m not getting into that shit. If the person was recovered, yes, but I wouldn’t hesitate leaving if they relapsed and didn’t seek help. Sounds brutal, but I’m serious about the damage drugs do, and not just to the user. Do you still talk to the person you had your first kiss with? No. It’s probably best we never do again. Can you make yourself cry? I’ve never really tried, but I don’t think so. Are you ready for kids? I’ll never be. Have you ever woken up crying from a bad dream? Plenty of times. Thanks, nightmares every fucking time I sleep. Do you eat breakfast? Yes. Cannot relate to people who don’t like wtf that’s the best part of the morning. Have you ever trusted someone too much? BOY OH BOY OH BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How did you get your last bruise? I don’t recall. Last time you got a text message and smiled? Idk. What was the last kid’s movie you saw? Ummmmm good question. Have you ever shared a shower or bath with someone as an adult? Noooo, not into it. Sounds dangerous but also just… weird to me. Like let me clean myself in peace??? Are you bitter about anything? Oh, am I. Do you use emojis? Occasionally. I’m too biased to emoticons, growing up using those every sentence, lol… but I’m starting to move towards them depending on the platform, and the ones I use are very limited. Do you have any hidden piercings? (this includes bellybuttons) No. I took my snake eyes out. Has anyone called you perfect before? *lips against mic* that was a motherfuckin lie Have you ever liked someone that was in a relationship? Yes. Have you ever gone through a period of mass weight-gain/weight-loss? What was that time like for you? Both, actually. First, mass weight-gain happened due to a medication I was on that murders metabolism + I was a bad emotional eater after the breakup, and those two don’t mix. Then, through recovery, I lost over 50 pounds in around a year from being off of that fucking medicine and my eating habits returning to normal. What’s one incident that has majorly affected your self-esteem? Was it for better, or for worse? THE BREAKUP. It made me feel like an absolute waste of space and time. Do you have a close bond with your sibling(s)? Was it always this way, or has it been better/worse? Not really, but I wish I did. Ashley and Nicole are very close, then I’m like… awkwardly on the sidelines trying to find times where I can insert myself and be a proper sister. Ash and I ARE closer than we were as kids, while it’s a harsh opposite with Nicole. We shared a room and were very close, but now I feel like she doesn’t even like me. Have you used Limewire before? Ha, yuuup… Who do you envy the most, if anyone at all? I’m uncertain about the most.

#survey #quiz #questions #questionnaire

[thepartyresponsible]

happy halloween! here’s halloween fill #10. this one is for @arsenicjade, who asked for hauntings/ghosts + jason.

so here’s jason todd, haunting dick grayson.

don’t worry. it’s a benevolent haunting. but it is, like all things bat-related, emotionally fraught and unnecessarily complicated.

Hauntings are serious things. Sometimes dangerous, always inconvenient. Bruce picked up a poltergeist once that screamed every time he closed his eyes and threw knives whenever he walked through a kitchen. There was no rest in the Manor until Alfred and Dick conspired to sneak in a psychic to banish the thing.

This haunting, though. It feels like something else.

“Dick,” it hums, crackling at the edges of discernable frequencies, simultaneously almost too low and too high to hear. “Prodigal sons come home.”

“Could you not?” he asks, as politely as he can. “I’m busy right now.”

“You’re dying,” it says. It’s impossible to tell how the spirit feels about that, if it feels anything at all.

“Well, you’d be the expert,” Dick says, as he hauls himself farther away from the edge of the building and presses his back against a helpful gargoyle.

It’s December, and it’s cold, and Dick wouldn’t have gone out tonight, except Bruce found Jason’s Christmas stocking earlier, and Dick had taken off on patrol so fast he hadn’t even bothered to suit up all the way.

Which is too bad, really, because the body armor would’ve stopped most of the knives.

“Call Bruce,” the voice says.

Dick’s eyes slide closed. He breathes. It’s cold up here, and getting colder. He should call Bruce, tell him to come pick him up before he loses consciousness.

Bruce is going to have a fit if Dick dies too. He’s going to fill the Cave with monuments to his dead. He’s going to do more of that thing he’s been doing lately, where he just stares off into the middle-distance and doesn’t answer when Dick says his name.

“Dick,” the voice repeats. There’s a hum and a shift, and Dick feels sunshine on his face, the warmth of a crackling fire filling him up from the pit of his stomach, radiating outward. “C’mon, Nightwing,” the voice says, “be a hero. Save yourself.”

Dick gasps, jerks fully awake. The energy feels electric, like he just pressed his tongue against the biggest battery in the world.

“Batman,” he says, fumbling for the comm. “Need some help. Got a bit stabbed.” He lists the location, hears the first murmur of Bruce’s reply, and then sags back against the gargoyle, going quiet and frozen and fuzzy all over again.

“There you go,” the voice says. The warmth fades and blooms, like a tide, like a heartbeat. “Don’t fall asleep, Dick. Stay awake.”

Dick blinks his eyes open. There’s a figure crouched over him, small and slender, a smear of reds and greens and shadow. The figure flickers, disappears entirely if Dick looks at it straight on.

“Who are you?” he asks, because he owes this spirit a favor. “What d’you need?”

He’ll help it, when he can. When he’s better. Help it find whatever it needs to move on.

“Gotta save some people,” the figure tells him. It echoes, sounds like a child speaking. Sounds, somehow, almost familiar. “Gotta make him proud.”

Dick breathes out. His head falls back against the stone, and he concentrates on the warmth, because the cold feels like it might kill him. “Well,” he says, with a smile, “can’t help you there.”

  Dick’s never been haunted before. Not personally. He’s distantly aware that he shouldn’t be flattered by it, but the spirit seems nice enough. Helpful, even. It comes and goes, and Dick can’t track how often it’s around, because most of the time it seems to lack either the interest or the strength necessary to show itself.

It mostly announces its presence by saving his life.

There’s one time in Blüdhaven when a man tries to shoot him and get walloped across the face, hard, with his own gun. There’s another, in Gotham, when a particularly clever assassin cuts Dick’s grappling line, and he doesn’t realize until he’s safely on the ground that there’s absolutely no tension on the line and nothing that could’ve been holding him up.

And then there’s the time the Joker corners him in a warehouse, and he’s wounded and bleeding, lying on a tricky piece of scaffolding and trying not to make any noise. The spirit keeps flickering beside him, and, if he concentrates, he can hear small, scared noises that sound like the ghost is crying.

“You’re okay,” Dick says, softly. “He can’t hurt you. You’re already dead.”

“I don’t want to watch him kill you,” it whispers back.

Dick swallows and breathes out.

“I don’t want to,” it says again, low and miserable.

“I can’t,” it says, fitful, fervent, growing louder.

“I won’t,” it says, and it’s a growl this time, low and hateful and demonic, rising into an unholy shriek of rage that seems to shake the whole building.

The Joker is dragged out by his throat and thrown so hard that he crashes into a parked delivery van a block and a half away.

“Thanks,” Dick says, but the spirit’s faded to almost nothing. There’s a spark of red and green, and then Dick doesn’t see it again for weeks.

  Dick tries not to think about who the spirit is likely to be. Or who it used to be, anyway. Some days that’s easier than others.

The first night Tim Drake suits up and hits the streets of Gotham, something hurls the Bat-Signal off the roof of GCPD. It hurtles all the way to the ground and crashes into a dumpster. No one is hurt.

“I think there’s another poltergeist,” Bruce tells him, later. “There’s been activity in the Cave, too.”

What he means, Dick eventually learns, is that, on the first night Tim wore the Robin suit, every pane of glass in Bruce’s macabre monument to Jason was blown out, and the suit itself was ripped to shreds and scattered around the Cave like trash in a storm.

The spirit is restless afterwards, and Dick can’t walk into a room without every single piece of paper flapping and spinning and, sometimes, flying straight up into the air. He sets off smoke detectors for a week straight.

“Okay,” Dick says, “you’ve gotta calm down. I can’t work like this.”

The spirit mutters at a frequency he can’t quite hear. It says the same thing, over and over again, voice rising like it’s being hurt but never resolving into something he can understand.

“I want to help you,” Dick says, as the spirit cracks every egg in the dozen he brings home and breaks his coffeepot and tears up the only picture of Bruce in the apartment.

“You can’t let him make you this upset,” Dick says, finally, patience breaking. “It doesn’t do any good. He won’t even fucking notice.”

The spirit goes dormant, and everything around Dick goes silent and still and lifeless.

  The spirit comes back a little over a month later. It seems subdued.

“Hey,” Dick says. “If you’ll tell me what you’re waiting around for, I’ll help you with it.”

“Not going to,” the spirit says. Its voice is faded and fluttery, like wind moving through dead leaves in winter, like the pulse of someone slipping away.

“Not going to what?” Dick asks.

There’s a buzzing sound reminiscent of the faint drone of insect’s wings. Dick feels something cold brush against the back of his neck, and he doesn’t flinch, but it’s a near thing.

“Stuck,” it says. “Tried to sleep,” it murmurs, “in the coffin.”

It gets caught on that phrase for a while, mutters it over and over while Dick drinks his coffee and eats his cereal. “In the coffin,” it says, low and quiet. “In the coffin, in the coffin, in the coffin.”

“It’s ugly down there,” it says, sudden and sharp and clear, right up against his ear. It feels like breath against his skin, cool and faint, unnatural. He shivers.

“Well,” Dick says, squaring his jaw and trying to keep the discomfort off his face. “You can stay with me as long as you need.”

“Thanks, Dick,” it says, and those words sound loud and familiar, sound exactly like something that was shouted years ago by a boy on his birthday, unwrapping a present from someone who should have been around more, should have looked after him, should have protected him.

“Thanks, Dick,” it repeats, caught in another loop, and it says that over and over again as Dick walks to work, every step an echo of gratitude Dick never really earned.

  The spirit haunts him for three and a half years. Dick grows so used to its presence that he develops a sense for it. Prolonged exposure can do that. John Constantine swears he can smell a ghost from seven blocks away, and Dick’s nowhere near that sensitive, but he gets a feel for hauntings.

He knows the girl down in Records is haunted by something malevolent, but her steady, steely eyes suggest she’s aware and working to contain it as best as she can.

His own spirit usually feels like the projected warmth of a hearth fire and something else, something that isn’t noise or pressure but both at the same time. It’s that odd, liminal sensation, the in-between of ears about to pop after a drop in altitude. Dick doesn’t realize how used to it he is until he wakes up one morning, and it’s gone.

The spirit dissolves like dew, and it does not come back.

Dick starts having nightmares of being buried alive, but, when he crawls his way to the surface, he’s in Jason’s grave, not his own.

“Dig it up,” he tells Bruce. “Dig it up, or I will.”

“What are you talking about?” Bruce says. “Did you hear something? Did someone say--”

“I’m saying,” Dick says. “I’m saying that if you don’t dig up that grave, I’m doing it myself.”

When they dig up the coffin, it’s empty. Bruce falls right into the newest mystery, and Dick goes home with a bottle of Bruce’s whiskey and tries not to think about what kind of magic could be done with the bones of a former Robin. He drinks until the warmth of the whiskey settles over him like the spirit that’s gone missing, and he tries not to think about how that spirit would feel, if someone hauled up its body and made it into a monster.

  When he wakes up the next morning, the window’s open, and Jason Todd is sitting on his kitchen counter, finishing off that bottle of whiskey.

“Hey, Dick,” he says, like it’s nothing. Like he’s been here every morning, kicking his heels in the air and downing booze he’s definitely not old enough to touch.

“Jesus,” Dick says, shoving himself up off the couch. “Jason?”

He’s older than he used to be. There’s an achey, fragile look in his eyes and a defiant set to his mouth. He sets the whiskey bottle aside and slides off the counter, and his feet hit the floor with a new, ominous weight.

“He put a kid in our suit, Dick,” he says. There’s something slightly otherworldly about him, like maybe he’s not fitting so neatly back into the cage of bone and skin. “He put a kid in our suit and left the Joker walking. I was rotting.”

“I know,” Dick says. “Jason--”

“You shine,” Jason tells him. He rubs at his eyes. He shifts and feints, heels of his palms pressed hard into his eye sockets. “Did you know? It was dark back there, and I couldn’t find Bruce. Couldn’t even see him. But you’re so damn bright I could see you from anywhere.”

Dick moves forward carefully. “Jason,” he says, again. “How’d you come back?”

“Body’s been walking for a while,” he says. He thumps his fist against his chest, too hard, doesn’t even seem to notice he’s hurting himself. “Talia dropped the body in the Pit, dragged me back in here.”

A Lazarus Pit can make anyone crazy, and Dick’s heard horror stories of spirits coming back into bodies they’d abandoned. It’s a hard thing, being caged again. People forget about gravity and physics and pain, can’t remember how to translate thirst and hunger. They walk straight off of rooftops still thinking they can fly.

“Kid’s bright, too,” Jason says. He drops his hands away from his eyes. They’re bloodshot and empty, and Dick’s struck by the bizarre, disorienting idea that this whole time, somehow, Jason’s been haunting himself.

“I’ve got,” Jason says, brow furrowing up, hands curling into fists at his side. “I’m dark too, just like him. It’s in me. It wants things even. Wants things fair. Wants to kill him, Dick.”

Dick catches his breath, and Jason looks up at him, miserable and scared, just a lost kid spat up on a shore he doesn’t remember, breathing with lungs he hasn’t used for years.

Someone should’ve found a way to make this kid better, instead of finding a way to make him useful.

“I want to kill him, Dick,” Jason says. “I want to kill Bruce.”

“Yeah, Jason,” Dick says, “sometimes I want to kill him, too.”

Jason sags, shoulders slumping, neck bent at a strange angle that’s going to leave him with a muscle ache if he doesn’t get it straightened out soon. The skin around his eyes is bruised, and there are scabbed-up scratches all over his hands that should’ve been washed out hours ago.

Jason used to know how to take care of himself better than any kid Dick’s ever known. Better than any kid should have to.

Jason’s lost. But lost is better than dead. Dick can fix lost.

“C’mon, Jay,” he says. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Jason wavers, balance shifting. He catches himself and overcorrects, and then huffs out a soft breath and wraps his arms around himself. “Can I stay here?” he asks. “Just for a couple days? If I go back to Gotham, I have to be something else.”

“I told you,” Dick says, as he goes into the kitchen and finds the least stale box of cereal, pulls the milk out of the fridge. “Remember? I told you that you can stay as long as you need.”

Jason stares at him, eyes blank and unblinking, exactly like someone who’s forgotten the purpose and execution of facial expressions. After a long, uncomfortable moment, he slowly bullies his mouth into a decent approximation of a smile. “Thanks, Dick,” he says.

It sounds nothing like that kid Dick used to know. There’s very little about the teenager standing in his living room that looks like that bright-eyed kid who died in uniform.

But that’s alright.

Dick’s spent the last three and a half years clocking everything Jason missed, counting all the good days he got to live while Jason was in the ground. There’s a faint, horrifying idea in the back of Dick’s head that the reason Jason could never move on was that Dick was never ready to let him go.

However death-rattled and spirit-shocked he is, Jason standing in his living room is a miracle. If there’s an admission price to coming back, Dick will find a way to help him pay it.

He slides the bowl of cereal across the counter. “Eat up,” he says. “You’ve got a lot of catch up on.”

#writing #fic #fill #spooky season fic #jason todd #dick grayson

[just-a-caffeine-addict]

The Taste of a Memory

Sentiment had always dictated my taste in food.

Regardless of how they came to be, or how good they actually taste, it is hard to break from my associations with certain types of food. It has been that way since I was small, although the specific points which I was introduced to them are short and sometimes hard to remember.

From what I do remember, the earliest instance was at the time I was seven [maybe eight]. I considered bar-b-que sauce as one of the weirdest condiments to be put on chicken nuggets. It was my best friend, Zoey, who loved lathering it on everything -especially the aforementioned bits of processed chicken we got from McDonalds. For me, at the time at least, it was weird enough to avoid but not enough to discourage my friend from what she obviously enjoys. It was her open kindness that drew me to her, and it was sweet goodbye as she moved away. It wasn’t until after her departure that I actually tried the sauce just as she preferred it. Even now, the taste fills me with a sense of gentle sad-happiness.

At nine years old, KitKats became a candy I hate to look at and loathe to eat. It wasn’t as much the flavor itself as the events that took place because of it. A bit after Zoey, I had made another friend named Chloe [this rhyming-pattern of friends repeated even after I moved] and she lived next-door to me -up on a hill overlooking a playground. We would hang-out and play on the slide and swing-sets, but mostly spent our time just talking. And yet, like Zoey, Chloe had to move away as well. Before she left with her family [furniture and non-essentials had already been moved by a packing company], we shared a bag of KitKats together and somehow finished it all. I’m not sure if I had eaten too much or had a bad reaction to it, but -the next thing I knew- I has hunched over in the bathroom violently expelling my guts. I was too sick to really walk around afterwards and was definitely too sick to meet with Chloe before she left in the family car. I hated how I wasn’t able to have that last goodbye, and blame the KitKats for the bitter-aftertaste that lingered to the next day.

Mountain Dew was more of a happy accident than anything, but I remembered first purchasing it on a Space Center field trip in Oklahoma. I was around ten years old, but was given money to spend on the snacks available in the vending machines. By then, I wasn’t completely sure how they worked, and I had wanted a different drink, but I ended up with the yellow-green contents of gamer-fluid and decided that I shouldn’t waste money by throwing it away. Apparently, it was a drink everyone else had tasted before, disliked it, and dramatically told me to not drink it because ‘ew’. I drank it, and the sweet satisfaction of their expressions enhanced my fondness for the flavor. Now, while I mostly use it as a source of caffeine, it still tastes better than any other soda I had.

Tamales, for all the merits and delicious insides they have, is a food that is absolutely iffy for me. It is the most far-reaching and most recent source of sentimentality due to how I was introduced to it at an early age. In fact, it was a family tradition for us to buy cornmeal, cornhusks, and meats such as barbacoa to make them. They always seemed tastier than whatever could be store-bought, so it is something we made often. However, the taste changed on me after an incident involving locked legs, me passing out, and being revived to ringing ears and a ambulance team that had somehow appeared in our living-room-kitchen area. For whatever reason, I now always feel a bit nauseous whenever I smell cooking tamales [not that it stopped me once I took a bite]. Regardless, it was a highlight that became the talk of the family for a good two days and had led me to the realization of what sentimentality DOES to me.

Regardless of how good or bad or bittersweet that memory was, I find significance in what I remember -that these memories matter because they have proven that I lived a life that isn’t just monotony upon a grey-scale background. It wasn’t a waste of time or energy to grow up or learn or build relationships with people -even when it may not directly impact what I experience now. It’s important to me to remember them through food because food will always stay the same even as my mind scrambles and fades the details of what happened. Even after I turn old and gray, I hope I am able to remember what I have written down here and what I have not. In the end, this is one of my few hopes and all I can say is that it may remain so with the decay of everything else.

#small excerpt #narrative

[witchesgetallthebitches]

Hey Witchblr, I made an All Star potion

So...

Yes.

I wrote All Star into a potion thing. I’m so sorry.

I thought since the post I made about it is my entire livelihood I’d share with you the glory that is this lovely potion recipe. It’s so good, you might even say... it’s a smash for your mouth.

THAT DIDN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE OH MY GOD I FEEL DIRTY

Anyways, this is a spell to achieve something even when people doubt you. Maybe a sport that people think you can’t play well, maybe you wanna prove to your parents that you can make it into art school and you aren’t a waste of space, whatever floats your boat.

Enjoy this terrifying monstrosity, you witchy fuckers.

Here’s what you’ll need to fuel this spell:

mud if you want to make an offering (or dirt if you don’t have any)

sage incense/candle (or whatever incense/candle you like)

Mountain Dew to taste

the sharpest tool you own, preferably from a shed (clean it thoroughly!)

if you’re of drinking age, get... two shots... of vodka (you know what I mean. two. *glug glug glug glug glug glug*)

lemonade (to taste)

orange juice (to taste)

a tear cried from laughter (this shouldn’t be hard to obtain)

a cauldron or bowl to make the potion in

Get your bowl/cauldron and set the mood/clean energies with whatever candle or incense you have. Really get in there. All those sassy donkey spirits can fuck off and get their waffles somewhere else. Make sure they know that.

Then, in your clean and energized space, add first the Mountain Dew. Then add however much orange juice and lemonade suits your personal taste. I personally used a 4 to 20 ratio for my Mountain Dew to my lemonade.

The next step is very important. Cry your single tear directly into the mixture. I recommend doing so by scrolling through fresh memes for a while to really get your dank juices flowing. Then be sure to spill those dank juices directly into your potion!

Now is the moment we’ve all been waiting for. The moment of truth. Start playing the song now.

If you’re shy about singing the whole song, don’t worry! You only have to speak aloud the first word, you can just hum along or listen to the rest. It is, however, important that you emphasize the right syllable. This is important business. Seriously, bro, like some levi-o-sa versus levi-o-sa level shit. You absolutely must whisper the “some” and then fucking screech the “BODY!”

Like this:

some-

BODY

Now take your sharp (and clean!) tool and carefully stir the mixture counter-clockwise to banish peoples’ silly doubts about your future successes. Enjoy the song as you do this. Really feel it in your soul. Do this for at least one play-through of the song, but if you wanna hit repeat and vibe out, by all means, do!

Then, voila! You have a delicious confidence and success potion crafted with ogre-whelming energy! 

Bonus step if you wanna make an offering with the potion:

Pour a bit into the mud. Offer this to any deity/spirit you want. Aphrodite, the earth, Hades, the universe, Shrek.

There you have it! A meme spell! Excuse me while I Mc-question my Mc-xistence. 

#all star #smash mouth #smashmouth #allstar #someBODY #witchblr #witchcraft #wicca #wiccan #witchy #witchy shit #witchy problems #spells #spellcraft #spellwork #crystal witch #storm witch #green witch #meme witch #witch meme #meme spell #meme spells #meme potion #meme magic #pop culture magic #pop culture witchcraft #kill me #baby witch #grimoire #grimoir

[ongames]

Teen Collapses, Dies After 3 Caffeinated Beverages

A teenage boy collapsed and died last month after consuming three caffeinated drinks in the space of two hours ― and his father wants to make sure it doesn’t happen to anybody else.

Davis Allen Cripe, 16, drank a McDonald’s cafe latte, a large Diet Mountain Dew and an unidentified energy drink before suffering a caffeine-induced cardiac event on April 26 in Chapin, South Carolina, a coroner said at a press conference on Monday.

An autopsy showed that Davis, a student at Chapin’s Spring Hill High School, had no undiagnosed heart conditions and no drugs or alcohol in his system. He was otherwise healthy when he likely suffered an arrhythmia, or abnormal heart rhythm, Richland County coroner Gary Watts said.

Arrhythmias can prevent the heart from pumping blood, causing cardiac arrest, according to the American Heart Association.

Watts stopped short of describing Davis’ death as a caffeine overdose, but he stressed that caffeine played some kind of role in the teen’s death.

“The purpose here today is not to slam Mountain Dew. It’s not to slam cafe lattes, it’s not to slam energy drinks,” Watts said Monday. “But what we want to do is make people understand that these drinks, this amount of caffeine, how it’s ingested, can have dire consequences, and that’s what happened in this case.”

Dr. Amy Durso, deputy chief medical examiner for Richland County, stressed that the amount of caffeine Davis drank, and the short span of time in which he consumed it, were likely key factors in his death.

“A cup of coffee, a can of soda isn’t going to cause this kind of thing,” she told reporters. “It’s the amount and the time frame in which these caffeinated beverages are consumed that can put you at risk, for anybody really, and that could cause sudden arrhythmia and in rare cases, such as this one, can cause death.”

Davis’ father, Sean Cripe, also spoke at the press conference, describing how his son was strongly against drugs and alcohol. But in spite of Davis’ clean lifestyle, Cripe emphasized, it was a legal stimulant that contributed to his death.

“I stand before you as a brokenhearted father and hope that something good can come from this,” he said. “Parents, please, talk to your kids about the dangers of these energy drinks. And teenagers and students, please stop buying them. There’s no reason to consume them. They can be very dangerous.” 

Cripe isn’t the only one warning about the risks of caffeinated beverages.

Dr. Marcie Schneider, who co-authored a 2011 clinical report on the consumption of sports drinks and energy drinks in children and adolescents, stressed that Davis’ consumption of an energy drink is what really stood out to her.

“It’s not just that this kid had too much coffee,” she told HuffPost. “This kid also had an energy drink.”

Some such drinks contain combinations of ingredients that can prove harmful, and in some cases even fatal, Schneider warned.

“In an energy drink, there’s much more than caffeine. They have all these other ingredients ― like taurine, that acts like caffeine, [and] guarana, which actually potentiates caffeine,” she said. “I’m concerned with caffeine for sure, but at least with coffee, I sort of know what I’m getting: water and caffeine.”

Asked if she believes there should be age regulations for buying energy drinks, she replied: “Absolutely.”

“The energy drinks, they are just things that you shouldn’t buy,” she said. “Once a person is 18, they can do what they want.”

Dr. Steven Lipshultz, interim director of the Children’s Research Center of Michigan and chair of pediatrics at the Wayne State University School of Medicine, also emphasized the risk such drinks carry for children and teenagers.

“Many of the added ingredients have never been tested for safety in children and have never been tested in the form of energy drinks,” he told HuffPost.

Sometimes, when a child experiences a medical emergency after consuming an energy drink, it turns out he or she has some kind of underlying health issue. But not always.

“There are people who are more susceptible to the health effects of energy drinks than others,” Lipshultz said.

Remarking on Davis Cripe’s death, he said: “Is this unexpected? Absolutely not. Is this the first case in the world? Absolutely not. Is this something that we’ve been trying to alert the public to the health consequences? Absolutely.”

Lipshultz said his interest in the effects of caffeinated drinks on children began in 2007, when he was a children’s heart specialist at a hospital in Florida.

Children would come in feeling unwell, with racing hearts, he said. Sometimes they’d need IVs and observation. It would turn out they’d consumed energy drinks.

Wanting to know how prevalent these incidents were, Lipshultz and a team went through 2.3 million calls to the U.S. National Poison Data System between 2010 and 2011, scanning for mentions of caffeinated, non-alcoholic beverages. When it came to calls for children, the results were “shocking,” he said.

Roughly 50 percent of all calls concerning energy drinks were for children younger than 6, according to the findings, published in 2013.

“It’s very disturbing,” Lipshultz said, noting that in many cases it must have been the parents or guardians who made these drinks available to a young child. “It’s not like they went to the 7-Eleven and said ‘Here’s $3, I want an energy drink.’”

What amount of caffeine could be considered safe for children? Lipshultz declined to say.

“I think it’s sometimes misleading when you say ‘It’s safe as long as you’re below a certain threshold,’ because that’s not what we’ve found here,” he said.

I think it’s sometimes misleading when you say ‘It’s safe as long as you’re below a certain threshold,’ because that’s not what we’ve found here. Pediatric cardiologist Dr. Steven Lipshultz

A key difference between soda and energy drinks is that the Food and Drug Administration considers soda a food product, whereas energy drinks are classified as dietary supplements. This means soda is “more highly regulated,” Lipshultz said. One result of this is that the actual amount of caffeine in energy drinks often goes unlisted.

Lipshultz stressed that energy drinks have no place in pediatric diets ― something the American Academy of Pediatrics has also stated.

Caffeine has been found to increase heart rate, blood pressure, speech rate, motor activity, attentiveness, gastric secretion, diuresis, and temperature, according to the AAP report that Schneider co-authored. It’s also known to create sleep disturbances, increase anxiety disorders, and trigger arrhythmias, as is thought to have happened in Davis’ case.

Caffeine “has been linked to a number of harmful health effects in children, including effects on the developing neurologic and cardiovascular systems,” the AAP’s report concluded.

Despite these cautionary effects, a 2011 study in The Journal of Pediatrics found that 75 percent of children surveyed between the ages of 5 and 12 consumed caffeine on a daily basis. The majority of these children got their caffeine from soda.

The findings included children as young as 5 consuming the caffeine equivalent of a can of soda every day.

“Because of the potentially harmful adverse effects and developmental effects of caffeine, dietary intake should be discouraged for all children,” the AAP advised in its report.

CORRECTION: An earlier version of this story mistakenly referred to Davis Cripe as “David.” HuffPost regrets the error.

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Teen Collapses, Dies After 3 Caffeinated Beverages

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A teenage boy collapsed and died last month after consuming three caffeinated drinks in the space of two hours ― and his father wants to make sure it doesn’t happen to anybody else.

David Allen Cripe, 16, drank a McDonald’s cafe latte, a large Diet Mountain Dew and an unidentified energy drink before suffering a caffeine-induced cardiac event on April 26 in Chapin, South Carolina, a coroner said at a press conference on Monday.

An autopsy showed that David, a student at Chapin’s Spring Hill High School, had no undiagnosed heart conditions and no drugs or alcohol in his system. He was otherwise healthy when he likely suffered an arrhythmia, or abnormal heart rhythm, Richland County coroner Gary Watts said.

Arrhythmias can prevent the heart from pumping blood, causing cardiac arrest, according to the American Heart Association.

Watts stopped short of describing David’s death as a caffeine overdose, but he stressed that caffeine played some kind of role in the teen’s death.

“The purpose here today is not to slam Mountain Dew. It’s not to slam cafe lattes, it’s not to slam energy drinks,” Watts said Monday. “But what we want to do is make people understand that these drinks, this amount of caffeine, how it’s ingested, can have dire consequences, and that’s what happened in this case.”

Dr. Amy Durso, deputy chief medical examiner for Richland County, stressed that the amount of caffeine David drank, and the short span of time in which he consumed it, were likely key factors in his death.

“A cup of coffee, a can of soda isn’t going to cause this kind of thing,” she told reporters. “It’s the amount and the time frame in which these caffeinated beverages are consumed that can put you at risk, for anybody really, and that could cause sudden arrhythmia and in rare cases, such as this one, can cause death.”

David’s father, Sean Cripe, also spoke at the press conference, describing how his son was strongly against drugs and alcohol. But in spite of David’s clean lifestyle, Cripe emphasized, it was a legal stimulant that contributed to his death.

“I stand before you as a brokenhearted father and hope that something good can come from this,” he said. “Parents, please, talk to your kids about the dangers of these energy drinks. And teenagers and students, please stop buying them. There’s no reason to consume them. They can be very dangerous.” 

Cripe isn’t the only one warning about the risks of caffeinated beverages.

Dr. Marcie Schneider, who co-authored a 2011 clinical report on the consumption of sports drinks and energy drinks in children and adolescents, stressed that David’s consumption of an energy drink is what really stood out to her.

“It’s not just that this kid had too much coffee,” she told HuffPost. “This kid also had an energy drink.”

Some such drinks contain combinations of ingredients that can prove harmful, and in some cases even fatal, Schneider warned.

“In an energy drink, there’s much more than caffeine. They have all these other ingredients ― like taurine, that acts like caffeine, [and] guarana, which actually potentiates caffeine,” she said. “I’m concerned with caffeine for sure, but at least with coffee, I sort of know what I’m getting: water and caffeine.”

Asked if she believes there should be age regulations for buying energy drinks, she replied: “Absolutely.”

“The energy drinks, they are just things that you shouldn’t buy,” she said. “Once a person is 18, they can do what they want.”

Dr. Steven Lipshultz, interim director of the Children’s Research Center of Michigan and chair of pediatrics at the Wayne State University School of Medicine, also emphasized the risk such drinks carry for children and teenagers.

“Many of the added ingredients have never been tested for safety in children and have never been tested in the form of energy drinks,” he told HuffPost.

Sometimes, when a child experiences a medical emergency after consuming an energy drink, it turns out he or she has some kind of underlying health issue. But not always.

“There are people who are more susceptible to the health effects of energy drinks than others,” Lipshultz said.

Remarking on David Cripe’s death, he said: “Is this unexpected? Absolutely not. Is this the first case in the world? Absolutely not. Is this something that we’ve been trying to alert the public to the health consequences? Absolutely.”

Lipshultz said his interest in the effects of caffeinated drinks on children began in 2007, when he was a children’s heart specialist at a hospital in Florida.

Children would come in feeling unwell, with racing hearts, he said. Sometimes they’d need IVs and observation. It would turn out they’d consumed energy drinks.

Wanting to know how prevalent these incidents were, Lipshultz and a team went through 2.3 million calls to the U.S. National Poison Data System between 2010 and 2011, scanning for mentions of caffeinated, non-alcoholic beverages. When it came to calls for children, the results were “shocking,” he said.

Roughly 50 percent of all calls concerning energy drinks were for children younger than 6, according to the findings, published in 2013.

“It’s very disturbing,” Lipshultz said, noting that in many cases it must have been the parents or guardians who made these drinks available to a young child. “It’s not like they went to the 7-Eleven and said ‘Here’s $3, I want an energy drink.’”

What amount of caffeine could be considered safe for children? Lipshultz declined to say.

“I think it’s sometimes misleading when you say ‘It’s safe as long as you’re below a certain threshold,’ because that’s not what we’ve found here,” he said.

I think it’s sometimes misleading when you say ‘It’s safe as long as you’re below a certain threshold,’ because that’s not what we’ve found here. Pediatric cardiologist Dr. Steven Lipshultz

A key difference between soda and energy drinks is that the Food and Drug Administration considers soda a food product, whereas energy drinks are classified as dietary supplements. This means soda is “more highly regulated,” Lipshultz said. One result of this is that the actual amount of caffeine in energy drinks often goes unlisted.

Lipshultz stressed that energy drinks have no place in pediatric diets ― something the American Academy of Pediatrics has also stated.

Caffeine has been found to increase heart rate, blood pressure, speech rate, motor activity, attentiveness, gastric secretion, diuresis, and temperature, according to the AAP report that Schneider co-authored. It’s also known to create sleep disturbances, increase anxiety disorders, and trigger arrhythmias, as is thought to have happened in David’s case.

Caffeine “has been linked to a number of harmful health effects in children, including effects on the developing neurologic and cardiovascular systems,” the AAP’s report concluded.

Despite these cautionary effects, a 2011 study in The Journal of Pediatrics found that 75 percent of children surveyed between the ages of 5 and 12 consumed caffeine on a daily basis. The majority of these children got their caffeine from soda.

The findings included children as young as 5 consuming the caffeine equivalent of a can of soda every day.

“Because of the potentially harmful adverse effects and developmental effects of caffeine, dietary intake should be discouraged for all children,” the AAP advised in its report.

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Teen Collapses, Dies After 3 Caffeinated Beverages

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A teenage boy collapsed and died last month after consuming three caffeinated drinks in the space of two hours ― and his father wants to make sure it doesn’t happen to anybody else.

David Allen Cripe, 16, drank a McDonald’s cafe latte, a large Diet Mountain Dew and an unidentified energy drink before suffering a caffeine-induced cardiac event on April 26 in Chapin, South Carolina, a coroner said at a press conference on Monday.

An autopsy showed that David, a student at Chapin’s Spring Hill High School, had no undiagnosed heart conditions and no drugs or alcohol in his system. He was otherwise healthy when he likely suffered an arrhythmia, or abnormal heart rhythm, Richland County coroner Gary Watts said.

Arrhythmias can prevent the heart from pumping blood, causing cardiac arrest, according to the American Heart Association.

Watts stopped short of describing David’s death as a caffeine overdose, but he stressed that caffeine played some kind of role in the teen’s death.

“The purpose here today is not to slam Mountain Dew. It’s not to slam cafe lattes, it’s not to slam energy drinks,” Watts said Monday. “But what we want to do is make people understand that these drinks, this amount of caffeine, how it’s ingested, can have dire consequences, and that’s what happened in this case.”

Dr. Amy Durso, deputy chief medical examiner for Richland County, stressed that the amount of caffeine David drank, and the short span of time in which he consumed it, were likely key factors in his death.

“A cup of coffee, a can of soda isn’t going to cause this kind of thing,” she told reporters. “It’s the amount and the time frame in which these caffeinated beverages are consumed that can put you at risk, for anybody really, and that could cause sudden arrhythmia and in rare cases, such as this one, can cause death.”

David’s father, Sean Cripe, also spoke at the press conference, describing how his son was strongly against drugs and alcohol. But in spite of David’s clean lifestyle, Cripe emphasized, it was a legal stimulant that contributed to his death.

“I stand before you as a brokenhearted father and hope that something good can come from this,” he said. “Parents, please, talk to your kids about the dangers of these energy drinks. And teenagers and students, please stop buying them. There’s no reason to consume them. They can be very dangerous.” 

Cripe isn’t the only one warning about the risks of caffeinated beverages.

Dr. Marcie Schneider, who co-authored a 2011 clinical report on the consumption of sports drinks and energy drinks in children and adolescents, stressed that David’s consumption of an energy drink is what really stood out to her.

“It’s not just that this kid had too much coffee,” she told HuffPost. “This kid also had an energy drink.”

Some such drinks contain combinations of ingredients that can prove harmful, and in some cases even fatal, Schneider warned.

“In an energy drink, there’s much more than caffeine. They have all these other ingredients ― like taurine, that acts like caffeine, [and] guarana, which actually potentiates caffeine,” she said. “I’m concerned with caffeine for sure, but at least with coffee, I sort of know what I’m getting: water and caffeine.”

Asked if she believes there should be age regulations for buying energy drinks, she replied: “Absolutely.”

“The energy drinks, they are just things that you shouldn’t buy,” she said. “Once a person is 18, they can do what they want.”

Dr. Steven Lipshultz, interim director of the Children’s Research Center of Michigan and chair of pediatrics at the Wayne State University School of Medicine, also emphasized the risk such drinks carry for children and teenagers.

“Many of the added ingredients have never been tested for safety in children and have never been tested in the form of energy drinks,” he told HuffPost.

Sometimes, when a child experiences a medical emergency after consuming an energy drink, it turns out he or she has some kind of underlying health issue. But not always.

“There are people who are more susceptible to the health effects of energy drinks than others,” Lipshultz said.

Remarking on David Cripe’s death, he said: “Is this unexpected? Absolutely not. Is this the first case in the world? Absolutely not. Is this something that we’ve been trying to alert the public to the health consequences? Absolutely.”

Lipshultz said his interest in the effects of caffeinated drinks on children began in 2007, when he was a children’s heart specialist at a hospital in Florida.

Children would come in feeling unwell, with racing hearts, he said. Sometimes they’d need IVs and observation. It would turn out they’d consumed energy drinks.

Wanting to know how prevalent these incidents were, Lipshultz and a team went through 2.3 million calls to the U.S. National Poison Data System between 2010 and 2011, scanning for mentions of caffeinated, non-alcoholic beverages. When it came to calls for children, the results were “shocking,” he said.

Roughly 50 percent of all calls concerning energy drinks were for children younger than 6, according to the findings, published in 2013.

“It’s very disturbing,” Lipshultz said, noting that in many cases it must have been the parents or guardians who made these drinks available to a young child. “It’s not like they went to the 7-Eleven and said ‘Here’s $3, I want an energy drink.’”

What amount of caffeine could be considered safe for children? Lipshultz declined to say.

“I think it’s sometimes misleading when you say ‘It’s safe as long as you’re below a certain threshold,’ because that’s not what we’ve found here,” he said.

I think it’s sometimes misleading when you say ‘It’s safe as long as you’re below a certain threshold,’ because that’s not what we’ve found here. Pediatric cardiologist Dr. Steven Lipshultz

A key difference between soda and energy drinks is that the Food and Drug Administration considers soda a food product, whereas energy drinks are classified as dietary supplements. This means soda is “more highly regulated,” Lipshultz said. One result of this is that the actual amount of caffeine in energy drinks often goes unlisted.

Lipshultz stressed that energy drinks have no place in pediatric diets ― something the American Academy of Pediatrics has also stated.

Caffeine has been found to increase heart rate, blood pressure, speech rate, motor activity, attentiveness, gastric secretion, diuresis, and temperature, according to the AAP report that Schneider co-authored. It’s also known to create sleep disturbances, increase anxiety disorders, and trigger arrhythmias, as is thought to have happened in David’s case.

Caffeine “has been linked to a number of harmful health effects in children, including effects on the developing neurologic and cardiovascular systems,” the AAP’s report concluded.

Despite these cautionary effects, a 2011 study in The Journal of Pediatrics found that 75 percent of children surveyed between the ages of 5 and 12 consumed caffeine on a daily basis. The majority of these children got their caffeine from soda.

The findings included children as young as 5 consuming the caffeine equivalent of a can of soda every day.

“Because of the potentially harmful adverse effects and developmental effects of caffeine, dietary intake should be discouraged for all children,” the AAP advised in its report.

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