#tobacco morbidity

[indizombie]

Tobacco already kills eight million people every year, and, irrespective of any impact of newer products like e-cigarettes, the huge global burden of tobacco mortality and morbidity can be expected to remain for decades to come. Tobacco growing, manufacturing, distribution, and use, all contribute to global warming through the emission of greenhouse gases. In fact, the tobacco product life cycle releases an estimated 80 million tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent every single year. The tobacco industry’s emissions are larger than those for entire countries, including Denmark, Croatia and Afghanistan, and are comparable to emissions from the oil, fast fashion and meat industries.

‘Plastics, the Environment and the Tobacco Industry’, Tobacco Tactics

#Tobacco Tactics #Tobacco #e-cigarettes #tobacco mortality #tobacco morbidity #greenhouse gas emissions #global warming #tobacco industry #tobacco product life cycle

[fallbabylon]

Memento mori themed tobacco pipes and holders- science museum, London

#occult #gothic #folklore #memento mori #goth #folk horror #skull #dead #skulls #england #tobacco pipe #tobacco #ciggarette #smoking #smoking kills #grim reaper #goth aesthetic #goth art #skull art #skull and cross bones #death #macabre #morbid #horror

[daddyhausen]

commision for — @the-anxious-youth

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• shut your mouth before i fuck it — rhea ripley •

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{ masterlists } | { wwe masterlist } | { rhea ripley masterlist }

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{ summary } — a house party for liv’s birthday turns sour for rhea upon catching you getting a bit to comfortable with the birthday girl. she reminds you exactly who you belong to.

{ warnings } — 18 + { minors do not interact }, wlw, oral sex, scissoring, strap-on, markings, hickeys, groping, public teasing, hair pulling, jealous sex, dominant x submissive dynamic, sub!reader, dom!rhea, mommy kink, brat taming, fingering, choking, forced orgasms, vaginal sex ,rough sex, penetrative sex, female orgasm, multiple orgasms, squirting

{ word count } — 4.2k

{ pairing } — fem!reader x rhea ripley

{ genre } — smut

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{ taglist } — @cosmoholic13 @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @adamjf @slut4kennyomega @wardlow @alexisquinnlee-bc @sammiejane22 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @melissahausen @writtingrose @drummergrl1310 @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @bonehead-playz @cherrytheeredheadmamaclaymore @crowleysqueenofhell @romanreigns-supreme @janetreader @thenerdybaker523 @sunshinevirus @nicoleveno14 @rubyred1980 @elsteenerico @igncrxntripley @ripleyswhore @embermdk

{ beta readers } — @allelitesmut + @legit9thlunaticwarrior

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

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the air was thick, a mix, a stench more like it of alcohol and tobacco flooded rhea’s nostrils, a cloud of smoke fluttered  across her cheeks from an unknown and quite frankly intoxicated party goer, reeking of cheap whiskey and menthol, the scents alone caused no harm, but the combination of the almost vinegary scent of the cheap drink along with the pungent, and quite frankly overpowering mintiness of the menthol made her eyes water, desperately trying to suppress herself from dry-heaving. god, why does liv need to go above and beyond with her parties? they’d become meaningless in rhea’s eyes, just another year closer to death she always says, why would you feel the need to celebrate something so morbid?

rhea let her eyes tiredly scan liv’s kitchen, the room looked more like a barren wasteland than a place she could drunkenly cook breakfast in the morning, empty bottles and cups strewn across the floor, vodka spilling out from the closest one beside her feet as she tried her best to not ruin her shoes with the substance. a pizza box with the contents half eaten inside, an inebriated couple doing what she could assume was making out behind the counter, although she did not witness much kissing in the second she had made eye contact, more like clashing teeth and absentminded face sucking it seemed. 

her ears began to ring from the sheer loudness of the music, it wasn’t an exhilarating ring you’d like the one you’d get during a concert, but more of a banshees shrill directly into her eardrums. she turned the corner into the living room, to find it more populated by inhabitants of the party, rhea was certain that she did not even recognise or know about ninety percent of the partygoers, maybe a handful at most, liv’s house almost about to burst at the seams from the amount of drunken bodies squished so tightly into one room. 

she met the eyes of a partially drunk dominik, the youngest of her quartet slumped against the wall furthest from the crowd, eyes sunken with a drunken stupor, slowly batting in and out of sleep. a sober and steadier damian priest keeping a watchful eye over the judgment day’s protégé. rhea made her way towards them, keeping her side firmly pressed against the wall so as to not get lost in the crowd of intoxicated bodies.

damian met her gaze with a soft nod in acknowledgment, opting to stay silent rather than strain his voice with screaming over the blare of music and chatter. he motioned for dominik to do the the same, offering a light tap to the back of the boy’s head in encouragement and more to rouse him out of his intoxicated state. dominik stared up at rhea, eyes glassed over and bloodshot with inebriation, his head craned forward slightly with a small nod before slumping back against the wall.

“have you seen y/n anywhere?” she questioned through a yell, despite having leaned into priest’s ear. the tallest of the three, furrowed his brows at the question, almost trying to comprehend the words that had just left rhea’s lips. 

“wasn’t she with you?” damien queried, the deep rumble of his voice seemed to match the bass of the music 

“wasn’t she in the kitchen with liv?” dominik slurred, trying to stand before damian shoved him back down by the shoulder, a silent warning to keep still until he sobered up.

“i was just in the kitchen.” rhea retorted, her accent becoming more predominant and thick the more her anger and impatience swelled within her. 

“what are we talking about?” an all too eager finn balor chimed in, that irish charm rang thick in his accent. hands full with whiskey, handing one to each member aside dominik, who gave a sour scowl, clearly not amused at the way he’s been cut off from the drink. damian, annoyed with having to play chaperone to the youngest, rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction.

“do you know where y/n is?” rhea responded with a dull, annoyed tone in her voice. “i’ve been looking for her for the past ten minutes”

“wasn’t she with you?” finn quipped with a puzzled expression. 

“no.” rhea fumed, impatience burning inside her veins. 

the irishman pondered in thought for a moment, pressing his shoulder into the wall as a group of stumbling drunks passed him by. rhea grew anxious at the prospect of her love being lost in a crowd of drink-fueled idiots, though her exterior remained cold and stubborn. 

“out with it!-“ the sheer magnitude of rhea’s voice was enough to bring dominik out of his drunken stupor for a moment, the youngest butting the back of his head against the wall he’d been resting it on. a groan of pain followed, priest’s usually calloused demeanor broken for a second as he tried to stifle his giggles at poor dominik’s pain.

“alright, alright. don’t get your fucking panties in a twist, jesus.” finn resumed his train of thought, practially unfazed by rhea’s impatient mutterings.

“oh yeah, i remember now.” finn clicked his fingers all too chipperly upon his remembrance. “last i saw out in the yard with liv. by the pool i think.”

“thank you” rhea remarked, downing the drink before handing, well rather tossing the cup back at finn, who, along with priest and dominik stood perplexed. watching her squeeze through the sea of bodies.

“what’s her problem?” dominik questioned wearily, finally coming out of his beer and whiskey fueled haze.

“i’d rather not find out…” damian sighed, eyeing the now empty bottom of his drink.

finn gave a small sigh in contemplation, effectively choosing to ignore rhea’s attitude for the time being

“well, i don’t know about you lads but i’m getting me another drink” 

-

rhea kept silent, shoving her way through the plethora of bodies, offering those who dared to question her motives a piercing glare. the glass sliding door glimmering with fairy lights strung loosely over the top frame, whatever she could make of the outside reminded her of an oasis. she could make out your figure through the smoke haze of the fog machine, she’d recognise your figure anywhere. she reached the door, peering out into the dead of night, the only light was from the living room, projecting out into the crystal blue of the pool. 

there you sat at the edge of the pool, feet lazily swishing the water. your body only shielded from the gaze of others with a tight black, micro bikini. rhea cocked her eyebrows at the ensemble, noticing that it was definitely not the outfit you’d worn when arriving. the faith you’d put in that piece of cloth was astronomical. your breasts barely covered, bar your nipples, so full and round, the string keeping the piece together was holding on by a literal thread. her eyes traveled down reaching the axis of your hip, having to squint her eyes to even make out the matching thong. your perky ass in full view and on display for all onlookers to see. 

rhea envisioned a scenario in her mind. the ensemble would burst at the seams, falling off your body like nothing more than a feather. your full breasts spilling out of the fabric, bouncing with their movements, so supple and soft. your pretty cunt bare and exposed, ready to accept punishment from her tongue and fingers. the buildup of wetness and arousal between rhea’s thighs just from the sight alone was almost too much to ignore, just to hear your sweet moans and pleas as she devoured your sweet pussy in front of everyone would definitely be a sight to behold. it was the perfect excuse and rhea needed the fresh air anyway.

the aroused trance faded for a moment as she came to. rhea gazed further into the night, further into you. another figure swam idly t your feet. the birthday girl had emerged from the watery depths, resting her head upon your thigh. liv’s eyes stared lustfully into yours, her lips eerily close to your clothed cunt, rhea observed the way you squirmed slightly whenever liv seemed to mutter out a sentence. your hand nestled in the blonde’s hair, massaging lightly, a playful glimmer in your eyes. 

despite the shine of blue from the pool, rhea saw red. you were too sweet and naive to notice but rhea clearly understood liv’s lustful intentions, despite the two of you being friends. rhea kept her demeanor calm for the most part, trying to quell her anger whilst it boiled deep inside her chest. she stormed outside, almost certain she’d ripped the door clean off its hinges. she made a beeline for you, paying no mind to the birthday girl, she grabbed your wrist as you hastily tried to wrap a towel around your lower half and retrieve your clothing.

“rhea, what are you?-“

“we’re leaving.” rhea remarked bluntly, dragging you away.

“i’ll talk to you tomorrow liv!” you shouted through the middle of music and crowd noise, leaving the poor blonde alone in the pool. 

rhea dragged you around to the side entrance, she did not want anymore unwanted eyes on the body she’d rightfully claimed as her own to stare at. 

“hey! where are we going!?” you retaliated, trying to pry your arm from your girlfriend's grasp. she remained silent, a scowl permanent on her lips. 

you’d made it to the car with much defiance on your part. she opened the door, practically throwing you in the passenger seat with a disgruntled groan. quickly taking her position in the driver's seat.

“what the fuck is your problem?!” you seethed at the fiery aussie, who merely stared dead at the road, knuckles gripped tightly, flushed bone white  against the leather of the steering wheel.

“hello?!-“

“why you gotta dress like a little whore around liv? you know she’s got the hots for you, princess” 

“is that really your problem,” you scoffed  “liv is just a friend and i can dress however i want it’s my body”

rhea’s hand released from the steering wheel, sneaking under the towel to tightly grip your exposed, still damp thigh. her strength alone sent a shiver down your spine and a thump of arousal straight to your core.

“princess…” she began. her eyes never leaving the road but her fingers creeping up to the string of the thong, toying with it between her fingertips

“i know your body better than anyone. i know how you feel, the way you taste, the way you liked to be manhandled and fucked out. i know things that liv only wished she knew”

you rolled your eyes at rhea’s statement, pretending that her words had no effect on you, despite the blush burning hot against your cheeks. her fingers caressing the skin of your hip with featherlight touches.

“so..?” you remarked, trying not to stutter through your words. “you don’t own me”

rhea gave a half hearted chuckle at your words

“oh sweetheart, but i do” she began. “who puts that pretty cunt to sleep at night? who makes you gush like a waterfall? who leaves you begging and screaming for more. it certainly ain’t liv” 

a satisfied smirked crossed rheas lips, acting all proud as if she’s won the argument, if you’d even call it that, her fingers released the string with a tight snap against you skin, the feeling sent shockwaves to your core. rhea couldn’t help but let her eyes fall off the road for a moment, to your breasts again as she did by the pool, how they bounced and jiggled with every bump and dip in the road. if she weren’t driving right now she’d rip that microscopic piece of fabric right off your form.

“you’re so insufferable” you mumbled to yourself, loud enough for her to hear, folding your arms across your chest.

“you won’t be saying that when my head is buried between your thighs, sweetheart” 

-

the rest of the drive home was met with disgruntled silence from both of you. rhea pulled up into the driveway in silence. only a glance on her part that allowed you to exit the car. you did albeit meekly with some retaliation, only for her glare to harden. she followed you up the stairs, grinding her hips against yours as you reached the front door, her hands held a death grip on your waist as you shakily fiddled with the keys.

“hurry up princess, don’t keep mommy waiting now” 

you gulped thickly feeling her hands trail up your waist as you hastily unlocked the door. you entered, desperately trying to make a beeline for your bedroom but rhea held you back for a moment, kicking the door closed with the heel of her foot. 

“hold on a second.” she ordered. keeping you grounded in your position momentarily. her fingers twirled the corner of the towel haphazardly tucked into itself, keeping a shield between your body and hers. she ripped it from your form with haste, letting it fall to the floor with a dull thud.

she inspected your body for a moment, letting her hands roam your form, squeezing and groping your supple flesh in her palms.

“such a pretty little get up” she remarked at the two-piece. her hands coming up to cup your breasts in her large palms, feeling your nipples harder under the still-damp fabric. 

“and why didn’t i get to see you in it first? why did you have to parade yourself in it for all those people to see, like a little whore?” rhea hummed against your skin, sucking and nipping the skin in the crook of your neck.

“i..” you mumbled through a moan as rhea’s hands grew more aggressive.

“c’mon, use your words like a big girl,” she teased, pinching your nipples through the fabric.

“i…i wanted to surprise you mommy…” you lied through your teeth. you just wanted the attention. rhea always gave you the utmost love and attention, but you wanted to experience it from strangers, feel their unknown eyes wandering your body, so hungry for a taste they’ll never get to try. you got off on it and you knew that secretly rhea did as well. 

“hmm, sure you did princess” her lips popped against your skin, a reddish mark left in their wake, one that would take days to heal. she snapped the strap of the bikini top against your skin, earning a harsh hiss on your part. 

“upstairs.” she commanded. following you close as you trudged up the stairs, arousal pooling between your thighs. she pushed you into the bed harshly, already positioning herself between your thighs. your fingers hooked into the string of your thong to pry them down for her before she swatted your hand away with a rough slap.

“keep ‘em on” 

you obeyed.

she licked a hot stripe against the fabric. the faint feeling of her tongue pressed against your covered clit had you shivering. she gave soft kisses to your core, tonguing the flesh around your clit, bypassing your sensitive pearl each time. you whined in frustration, wanting her to just devour your cunt.

“what?” she smirked. “you didn’t think i was gonna play nice with you after that stunt you pulled back there?”

you went pale at the thought. rhea was never ever liberal with her punishments.

“oh sweetheart. i’m gonna have so much fun with you” 

she undid the ties to the thong. the small bows at your hips fell with ease. her slender fingers prying at the fabric, your cunt slick with arousal, leaving a damp spot in the material. you heard her hum in contentment, her tongue jutting out past her bottom lip, the glimmer of her tongue piercing just barely visible under the dull moonlight bleeding from the small cracks in the blinds.

“so wet for me…” she remarked, although her voice lowered, a growl almost present in her words. she kneeled before you, hooking her arms underneath your knees. dragging you closer to the edge of the bed. she marveled at the sight between your thighs, your cunt drenched, dripping with sweetness and warmth, she smirked to herself, knowing that it was indeed her doing. 

with no warning she dived in, the cool sensation of her tongue piercing made you shiver as the metal made contact with your sensitive clit. she maintained eye contact throughout, those piercing blues staring directly into your soul as she devoured you. her lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and nibbling at your swollen pearl. maybe you should flirt with liv more often if this were to be your punishment. 

your hand fell into her hair, tugging at the dyed, coal black roots, pushing her head down so her tongue could fuck you senseless. she smiled into your warmth at the action, opting to accentuate your pleasure. she pulled away from your warmth for a second to speak, her breath heavy and labored. 

“such a pretty girl, you love getting off on mommy’s tongue don’t you?” she cooed, keeping her lips close to your clit, peppering gentle, featherlight kisses to your outer walls each time you squirmed into yourself.

“yes mommy” you panted breathlessly, groping your breasts absentmindedly. she gave another soft smile, returning her head between your thighs, this time with the addition of two fingers, her middle and ring fingers. as she tongued your clit, slowly, making sure you could feel the metal of her piercing with each swirl, she added her fingers, beginning to spread your folds and fill your void with ease. 

she would not go easy on you, oh no. despite her trickery, leading you into a false sense of security before she absolutely wrecked you. her tongue flicked your clit in rapid succession, her fingers pumping and curling deep inside your cunt. she kept her eyes on you, how you’d squeeze and toy with your breasts, the flesh now free from the miniscule restraint of the bikini top, pierced nipples now on display. rhea’s free hand came up to tug on one of the piercings, twirling the black bar between her thumb and forefinger, adoring the way you squirmed and whined at the new sensation.

“thats it you dumb little girl, fuck yourself on my fingers for me”

rhea could taste how close you were, how your cunt throbbed around her fingers, how your swollen clit twitched with every movement of her tongue. her spit spread across your folds and inner thighs, sweetness forming a pool in the bedsheets below. you could not hold out much longer, the pleasure was far too much for you to handle. you tried your best to refrain, to stop the flood gates from opening, and you knew there would be consequences if you were to cum without her permission. 

“m-mommy-” you whimpered through choked moans, hips circling so your clit could receive more friction from her tongue. 

“yes, baby” she hummed into your clit. her words buzzed against your skin, leaving you numb in pleasure, afraid to spill over. you held out for a moment, trying to come to but your words would not leave your throat, seemingly trapped like concrete in your chest.

“you wanna cum don’t you?” she queried, the twang of her australian accent running thick as she moaned into you. you nodded, far too hastily for you own liking. you would have liked to hold out for a moment or two longer, just for the feeling of her tongue but you couldn’t wait much more.

“then cum. show me how much of a good, obedient girl you can be” 

you heeded her words, sweetness gushing like a fountain from between your thigh prompted by her. she smiled into you, drinking you in as if it were her first taste of heaven. and in heaven she was, she pried her fingers from your warmth, returning her hands under your thighs once more, dragging you closer so she could fuck you deeper with her tongue, 

she’d left your thighs shaking upon coming down from your high, breathless and sopping wet as you tried to regain yourself. she silently excused herself to the closet, leaving you to bask in your post-orgasm thoughts for a moment or two, staring up at the ceiling you noticed the small chips of paint beginning to flake and the thin cracks around the lighting fixture, something you hadn’t really picked up on before. not that it mattered. 

rhea soon returned, standing in front of you, her body bare, the only concealed parts of her skin were those covered in ink. her tattoos suited her frame so well, bringing character to an otherwise blank canvas. in her hand she held a harness and your favorite dildo. it was a simple, sleek design, black silicone with little purple hearts encased on the mold, roughly about eight inches in length and roughly five inches in girth. one that she had used on you many times beforehands. 

you watched on silently as she prepared herself, her body hovering over yours as she fastened the toy into the harness. her breath labored slightly as she teased your folds with the tip of the toy, pressing it rather harshly against your swollen clit, a whimpered breath left your lips at the action.

“you gonna be a good little whore for mommy?” she questioned, cocking her eyebrow playfully as she stared you down, jutting her hips forward, the tip of the dildo grinding against your entrance. you squeezed your eyes shut, pleasure once again rising between your thighs as her hips guided the toy across your clit.

“uh ah, sweetheart” she slapped your cheek lightly, rousing your eyes open. 

“look at me” she demanded, taking you by the chin, forcing you to look up at her. she repeated her phrase. emphasizing each word that left her lips with a pause

“y-yes mommy…” you whimpered meekly, feeling her grip on your chin loosen. a smirk creeped upon her cheeks, sliding the toy deep inside without warning. a choked gasp left your throat, feeling the dildo fully succumbed inside your warmth, to the point where you could feel her warmth radiating through the thin harness.

“oh fuck, baby. look how well you take it” she forced your head to look down at yourself. how your cunt clenched around the thick toy, how it bobbed in and out of your warmth complemented by rhea’s thrusts. 

“god…if i had a cock i would breed this pathetic cunt day and night” rhea’s growls resonated in the surrounding silence, echoing in your ears with such devilish praise. her body hovered over yours, securing you against the mattress, her breasts bouncing with every thrust she gave. you angled your head up slightly, the tip of your tongue barely grazing against her perky nipples, the buds swollen and hard from the chill of the midnight air. 

rhea hissed in delight at the sensation, in response, her hips gave a rather hard thrusts, a whirlwind of moans fluttered from your lips. she let her head fall between the valley of your breasts, licking a hot stroke up your skin, sucking and nipping the area and the surrounding mounds of flesh, marking you up with lustful bruises, all in varying shades of purple and pink. she let her lips trail to your right nipple, kissing the sensitive, pierced flesh lightly before biting down on it, tugging the bar between her teeth, letting her tongue roll over your nipple, leaving a glossy wet trail in its wake.

“oh baby, you look so fucking good. you love getting dumbfucked don’t you, my sweetheart? there’s not a thought in that empty head of yours is there?”

her words mocking yet falling on deaf ears and very much so. there was nothing on your mind other than achieving orgasm. rhea fucked you so well that it made you legs weak, your mind grew hazy and rotten with all the filthy ways she could ruin you. rhea could sense your impending orgasm, opting to hook a leg over your shoulder, pressing down deep into you, feeling the tip of the toy hit your cervix with such delicious force.

“oh sweetie, you gonna cum? oh i know you do, just look at the way your pretty cunt throbs for me”

you felt a moan catch in your throat, your cunt so swollen and overstimulated, not just from the toy but from her tongue also. orgasm teetering in the edge of release

“mommy please! oh fuck yes- make me cum, mommy!” 

rhea increased the speed of her thrusts, her own cunt soppy and dripping with sweetness. 

“make a mess for mommy, baby. show me how a good girl cums”

you released, sweetness gushing like nectar from between your thighs. it’s a pity rhea couldn’t taste you for a second time, but watching you cum all over her makeshift cock was good enough for her. rhea pulled out of you, spurts of your warmth still squirting from you each time your cunt clenched and pulsed. she left you breathless, unable to speak for a moment. 

“such a good girl” rhea praised, quickly removing the harness and the toy, throwing it to the floor beside the bed, before resting herself atop the headboard.

“now…” she began, tugging you lightly by the hair, leaving your head positioned between her thick, inked thighs.

“come give mommy a kiss”

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#{ my fics : 🤍 } #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley smut #rhea ripley imagine #wlw fanfic #rhea ripley fanfic #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfic #wrestling imagine #wrestling smut #wrestling fanfiction

[yuugen-benni]

Non-proportional quantities

When you question the extent of their love - Odasaku, Ayatsuji, Akutagawa, Tachihara; A/N: ''But Why every post with Tachihara you bring up his past/spoilers ?'' BECAUSE I LIKE ANGST. shut up dude.

''Love cannot be measured'' Oda replies looking at you calmly. Although he was direct, he still takes a short time to contemplate your doubt, which honestly seems so small to him. But why small? Because as a romance writer he knows that love cannot be measured, so he reflects, weighing how he will express himself best

''But if I could think of a way to explain…I would say that not even all the books in the world would have all the words to say how much I love you''

His is so calm, his expression almost emotionless. You curse him every time he acts like a statue but evokes the words of a poet on his deathbed

Ayatsuji sighs, as if responding to a child asking something inappropriate.

"Are you doubting it just now?" The detective taunts, leaning back in the chair, arms crossed at stomach height ''or are you mad because I made you wear-'' Oh this mf knows too much-

''Yukito! It's a serious question'' Your words hangs in the air, for a moment then, with a small smile playing on his lips.

He opens the drawer on the left side of the table, taking out his pipe. He carefully fills it with tobacco, each movement unhurried. Lighting it, wisps of smoke begin to dance in the air, a aroma filling the room.

Turning back to you, he holds the pipe in his hand, his expression serious "When we smoke," he starts, his voice taking on a gentle cadence, "we inhale the smoke from the burning substance, tobacco, and then we need to exhale it." Ayatsuji takes a drag from the kiseru and exhale "If you were the tobacco in this pipe, I would certainly let you invade completely my lungs. Suffocating me. And I would die happy with your taste in my mouth."

Morbid. Suggestive. But a captivating answer. He shut you up, as always, after all, isn't that what he does to those who challenge him?

''You said you wanted to ask me something important…not that'' Akutagawa mumbles quite annoyed "I put up with you everyday, isn't that enough ?'' internally debating whether he should stay and listen to any of your arguments or leave without a headache.

The idea of extension of love is not new to him, It's not new to anyone who has ever experienced killing someone. Seeing you asking something so obvious in his eyes is stupid knowing that he would do everything, and he already does, so that no one would lay a finger on you, not even himself

''Am I that annoying ?'' you put your hands on your hips looking at him with a frown. He eventually he gave up, the persistence in your eyes makes him reconsider. With a resigned sigh, he rubs his forehead;

''Yes, you're that annoying, but if it makes you feel better, fine. I'd use rashomon to tear the world apart if it meant you'd be safe, okay ? Now please, enough with the clinginess''

''Are you drunk, [name] ? I knew I shouldn't have bought that coffee for you'' Tachihara teased reminding you of the embarrassing situations you always go through for drinking too much coffee, unfortunately for him that wasn't the case.

''If I hadn't drunk, we wouldn't be here, now answer'' you retorded with a quite firm tone. Tachihara wasn't someone of expressing his feelings although you know he loves you, not because of a simple ''I love you'' but because you somehow felt it. You also know that Tachihara was a good actor, a good scoundrel.

His gaze slowly shifted away, subtly conveying his avoidance of the subject. The answer was already on the tip of his tongue, ''the extent of my love would be due to the fact that I would trust you with the truth'', but wouldn't that be reckless ? risky ? Both for you and for his disguise.

Slowly, the morning sun began to rise, showing its radiance that you two were so happy to watch. He took a deep breath, slowing his heart and lowering his head, hoping that the great doubts would disappear when the sun fully appeared.

#benni #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #sorry for my bad english #bungou stray dogs x reader #akutagawa x reader #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #gin akutagawa #ayatsuji x reader #yukito ayatsuji #oda sakunosuke #oda x reader #odasaku x reader #bungo stray dogs odasaku #tachihara michizo x reader #tachihara michizou #tachihara x reader

[acrystalwitch]

(From research but also from my own workings with him. This isn’t meant to be strictly historical this is more for pagans wanting to work with him. There will be a lot of UPG or SPG)

Anubis/Anpu/Inpu/Inpw (and some other spellings depending on where you look) :

-He is the jackal headed Egyptian god of mummification, funerary rites and a fierce protector of tombs and places where people are buried.

- a lot of stories have him as either the son of Nephthys and Set or the son of Nephthys and Osiris. I personally go by the mythology where he is the son of Osiris, then taken in by Aset and raised as an adopted son after the death of Osiris. He is fiercely loyal to his adopted mother and his father. As well as supportive of his half brother Horus (Heru-sa-Aset)

What working with him is like

-He is a sort of Psychopomp deity for dead souls. Also in my experience can help bring you into meditations with other spirits safety (he’s guided me to a few of the other deities I work with now)

- He is a fierce protector. Big guard dog energy. Doesn’t usually have a huge temper until something threatens him or a follower of his.

-Most of the time he’s a very calm and patient deity. He will give space when you need it, and also be around when you need him too. He tends to put in the effort that you do. But if you can’t put in much effort he’s patient (just quieter maybe if you’ve backed away from him first)

- He is usually the first one to jump in to help when I’m going through something emotionally rough. It could be because he is my patron but I do feel like he is the type of deity to want to be there for, and comfort his followers/devotees.

Offerings for Anubis

(These are the personal ones I use because they work for my own practice and lifestyle- feel free to share any of your own!)

Crystals

- tigers eye

- obsidian

- onyx

- jet

- lapis lazuli

- red/brown goldstone

- labradorite

- Dalmatian jasper

Incense

- frankincense

- Egyptian musk scents

- Sandlewood

- Myrrh

- Tobacco

Food offerings

- Dark chocolate

- dark bread

- red wine

- water

Other physical offerings/associations

- dog statues/imagery

- ankhs

- wooden things/wood carvings

- jewelry with gold on it

- keys

- black candles

- gold candles

- brown candles

- the death tarot card

- the hanged man tarot card

- the emperor tarot card

Devotional offerings

- self care

- taking care of your own dog/a dog

- volunteer at dog shelters

- donate to animal shelters/rescues

- learn about him

- learn about the history of the pyramids and mummification

- draw him

- write poetry for him

- play music/dance/sing for him

How to know if he’s reaching out to you?

Best way to know is to confirm by tarot or your clairsenses if you have any. Or candle flame reading/other forms of divination.

If you’re looking for signs he’s popping up (this is rather morbid but so it goes with the god of mummification and decay) he tends to send roadkill to me. If you see a lot of extra roadkill on a drive to work/a regular route that isn’t usually there. That could be a sign. (I like to ask him to help guide their souls somewhere nice whenever I see roadkill)

I think he’s an excellent deity for beginners and if you feel called to him I’d say go for it! I started with a simple candle dedicated to him and went from there!

#Anubis #anpu #kemetic paganism #kemetism #deity worship #deity witchcraft #Egyptian gods #pagan witch #deity work #deity offerings #Anubis offerings #deity guide #Anubis guide #death gods

[cptains]

ghost pushes himself onto his feet for a smoke, and from where you lie naked but for the shroud of his grey fleece, you make the mistake of opening your mouth just as he lifts the cigarette to his lips.

‘i think i love you,’ you blurt.

think is not the operative word. you think you love him two months into the casual flings that began as morbid celebrations of survival, proof that you really did make it out alive from another harrowing mission. you know you love him right now as you sit drenched in a zip-up that smells of him, motor oil and tobacco sweetened by his claim. how can you not love a man who cradles your name over his tongue before he breathes it warm over your skin?

think only serves to soften the blow of the emotional equivalent of a head-on collision with an eighteen-wheeler.

you expect him to lock up, maybe even drop his lighter with a dramatically timed clang over the compound floor. every mental iteration has him frozen in place, stunned.

and you're wrong.

without pause, he flicks open his lighter and brings the flame to the frayed end of his cigarette. unbothered, he takes one deep drag, plucks it from his lips, and hands it to you without turning to look at you once.

‘you’ll get over it.’

you bring the cigarette to your lips and inhale once. the smoke is bitter on your tongue.

#screaming w my mouth closed #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #su.pdf

[thebreakfastgenie]

I'm an absolute killjoy about smoking. I'm like a mom against smoking. Like today you're romanticizing cigarettes, tomorrow big tobacco is winning. Cigarette companies got banned from advertising directly to children within my father's lifetime. The huge drop in smoking rates and directly related drop in cancer and other morbidities is a massive and recent public health victory and I don't take it for granted.

#just. absolutely not.

[consul-valerius]

Tell Me How it Felt (it felt the same for me, too)

In which mama and son share a joint and the same, morbid story, starting with the simple question: Can you remember how you died?

Rating: T for a good ol smoke sesh and discussions of death & dying

Characters involved/mentioned: Donna & Damien; mentions of Valerius, Valdemar, and a brief discussion of Lucio

Words count: ~2760

Content warnings for: casual drug use, descriptions of insects and body horror (in the context of the plague), implied abuse, discussions of sickness/the plague, discussions of death, general references to past kidnapping (this is Damien’s go-to warning lol)

A/N: I apparently had this finished for AGES and just never posted ? LMAOO but some good old morbid family bonding times lmao or when Damien realizes that time is a circle, and Valdemar may not be all they seek to be lol very dialog heavy and more of a character study

Damien held his breath, swallowing down a gasp. No matter how often it happened, his mama always surprised him at these late hours. He was always so sure that if he waited just enough, his late-night walks would go unnoticed. But no, no matter how late the evening grew, he was sure to find his mama sitting out on the veranda, a joint wilting away in their small hand.

The first time had been awkward; Damien hadn’t known what it was, the smell foreign and nauseating. Donna had fumbled to explain themself, to justify that it wasn’t tobacco, that it was better than that if he could believe it. He knew how much his father hated cigarettes—which never stopped Damien from smoking them, but the idea of his mama smoking them was initially alarming. Damien's logical conclusion was to ask for a hit if it was so much better, his curiosity buzzing inside his gut.

It was difficult for Donna to tell him no—standing before them was a young man, older than they had been when they had started smoking. He wasn’t their baby boy any longer; how could they say no? There was plenty to share, like that could ever be an excuse. Better he does it with them and not one of those snotty rich kids. They would probably give him something laced, the sickos.

That was the beginning of it; be it morning or night, they would pass a joint back and forth, mostly sitting in silence or humming or weaving stories together. Some real, some fantasy, most a mixture of the two.

“You got enough for a second person?”

“For you, mi vida? Always.”

Donna was always prepared; once Damien finished the rest of what Donna was smoking, they were already beginning to roll another. They had tried countless times to teach Damien. Every time ended the same: they suggested he marry someone who could roll for him whenever he wanted. Still, he watched them closely, his eyes wide as they worked. They didn’t mind this; by now, they were used to his staring. It was a new habit, one that typically put off others. But never Donna.

“Does father ever do it?”

“Do what? Roll? Gods no. He can’t even pack me a bowl!” Donna snorted, their laughter a bit wheezy. It made Damien smile. “He prefers edibles anyway. He can make a mean pot brownie—you can barely taste it.”

“Gods, it’s been so long since I’ve had papa’s desserts…”

“We’ll make some tomorrow! It’ll make him happy if you ask him. Did I ever tell you the story?”

“Of how he won over Titi Dominique by making her flan?”

“Yes! We thought he’d win her over with sangria, but it was the flan that did it. She said it was almost as good as my abuelo’s. Almost. I’d never tasted it, but can you picture that? Your old man beating out someone who grew up making it?”

“No wonder he liked making it. Must have given him a big head.”

“Huge. But he earned it.”

“That time anyway.”

The two giggled at that as Donna passed Damien the joint. Damien raised his eyebrows, frowning.

“You rolled it, mama.”

“I smoked more than you. Go, it’s for you.”

Damien smiled, his chest swelling. I love you. He had never realized how much his mama said without saying it. And so clearly too; nothing ever felt like a secret. Most times he had to consult some higher power to figure out what his father was saying sometimes, what he actually meant. But, and Damien could admit this, he was almost the exact same way. Glancing up at Donna, he summoned a flame to his fingertips. They smiled and shut their eyes, reclining into the padded bench.

Are you my mother? Am I really yours?

“Mama?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can you remember how you died?”

Damien almost immediately regretted the question. He winced as if he was hurt, his hands shooting up to pull the roots of his hair. Donna’s eyes were wide open, though their lips were a tight line. In the low light of the moon, Damien could see the raised scars along their mouth and cheek. Three gashes. One more trailed to their neck. He had grown up looking at them, it was never out of place. But he knew his father had known them before it. Had seen their face before they were his mama. Before everything.

“I… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying, it’s late I—“

“It’s only a little morbid.” Donna tried to laugh as they ran their hand over their face. “But I think we’re both a little morbid. You gotta be, I think. In this family anyway.”

“You really don’t need to answer. I was just talking. I’ll be quiet!”

“No, no, no,” Donna sighed, bending forward to place their arms on their knees. “You’re your father’s son. You can talk to me, Damien. And you can ask me things.”

“I don’t have to ask everything.”

“Do you remember what your Titi Dominique said when you were little? Of course, you probably don’t. That’s okay, I can’t remember half of the things she said to me when I was little.”

Damien held his breath as Donna softly grabbed both of his hands. He was pulling his hair. Hard, he finally registered. They guided his hands to begin twiddling the ends of his hair instead. He repeated the motion without thinking as he focused his gaze on his lap. He didn’t need to see it to know his mama was smiling. They did this with him ever since he was little—that he remembered.

Remembered clearly.

“Well, anyway, the point is she was always saying how much she loved your questions. All the time, she would have the whole inn roaring in laughter as she listed off all the things you asked her that day.”

“They were laughing at me?”

“Oh, they loved you! They thought you were the smartest little guy around! They loved how brutal you were. So to the point. They thought you were the best kid—and they were right, you know.”

Damien sat in silence, a small smile tugging on his lips. Donna smirked before reclining back into their seat.

“All of that to say that you can ask me things. Anything. Even the gross stuff. Like what’s the best lube to use for anal.”

“Mama!“

“But I can’t really remember what it felt like to die, no. Or how exactly it happened,” they finally continued, silencing Damien swiftly. “I don’t have a lot of memories of the plague. Might be the magic, might just be… it sucks to die. Especially like that. But that entire time was just… death, death, death. Everyone felt like they were dying—if not now, then soon.”

“Papa said there wasn’t enough room for the bodies. Is that… is that true?”

“It is. I remember how much we tried to make up for it. But nothing was the same, nothing would ever be good enough. The lazaret was the last choice, but we had to. You’ve talked to your father about this?”

“Only… only one time. He got a little… a little wonky.”

“It was a dark time for him. For all of us, but… but especially him.”

“He lost you. That’s when he got wonky… talking about you.”

“He lost more than just me,” Donna inhaled sharply, shutting their eyes again. Damien reached out and held their hand. They ran their thumb over his the charred top of his hand; they didn't react at all to the rough texture. “Your father… loves this city. In some ways it’s like his first child—shit, that is totally not something I should be saying to you—"

“No, no, like… I know. Comes with being the former consul’s son and all.”

“So you understand! Even before he lost me, he was losing his people. No one knew when the plague would end—if it would ever end. Entire families were dying together. A whole generation gone. Just here one day, gone another. And your father could do nothing—even Nadia, if you can imagine it, could do nothing.”

“It’s hard to picture that… that she couldn’t just like… will the plague to end with her sheer mental fortitude.”

“I think she hates that too—that she couldn’t do the impossible. And it was impossible. It didn’t matter what we did—the plague wouldn’t stop, even if we moved people to better, safer places. Even if we put a physician in every home. It wouldn’t have ended. Not with… him there.”

Damien took a long drag from the joint next. He refused to acknowledge the chill running up his spine, so much like a finger tickling him. He felt eyes burning into him, somewhere hidden, far away. Always far away.

“You don’t… you weren’t there when it happened, right?”

“What?”

“The masquerade… when… you know—“

“No. I had died before that. It’s funny, in some ways the masquerade feels like some fucked up fairy tale I was told as a kid. But it wasn’t that. And I wasn’t a kid either.”

“It’s more like a scary story for me. Like a… what’s the word? Like it’s teaching you a less—“

“Cautionary tale! Like a cautionary tale.”

“Yes! Any time you guys mention… the old count, you get that way. He’s like the bogeyman.”

“He was the bogeyman. Or he wanted people to think so anyway. Really he was a massive loser, but he was a loser with a body count. So that makes him dangerous.”

Damien swallowed, ignoring what he thought sounded like stomping feet. Like a child having a tantrum. He could only stare at the scars on his mama’s face.

“But… shit, where were we?”

“Dying…?”

“Dying! Yes. I… I really don’t remember much of it. I vaguely remember getting sick. Or at least what made me sick—this is a bit graphic. Are you sure you want to hear?”

“Yes. If I don’t I’ll… I’ll interrupt you.”

“Perfect.” Donna took another deep breath, grounding themself. Damien leaned closer, dread and excitement eating away at him. “I’ve told you already I was the head physician's assistant. We had worked together before in the palace—they were the quaestor proper, but medicine was really where their interests were.” Damien felt his blood run cold; he couldn’t read Donna’s face, their eyes far away. He suddenly felt jittery and itchy. “Or maybe not medicine. I thought it was medicine, but really it was just…” They paused, swallowing. Damien could have sworn he heard a giggle—a real giggle—and had to stop himself from gasping. “Dying. They were very interested in people dying. How it happened, what it looked like, all that shit. That meant they were very hands-on with the patients—I’ll spare you those details. Just know that I was always at their side, recording anything and everything they told me to.

It started out with just writing down their weird little rambling, then it got more… hands-on. Helping them jar specimens. Helping them prepare a body. I never questioned any of it, not after the first week. I was just so… so lost.”

I know how you feel—I felt like that with them too.

“I was still reeling from being banished—my face hadn’t even healed properly. And it was a lot of dying people all the time—it never stopped. You just… grew numb to it. That’s what makes me the most upset, I think. That I didn’t remain upset by everything, that it no longer scared me. I just… let things happen to me.”

Donna paused to rub Damien’s shoulder; he had started to tremble. He clung to their hand.

“I should stop—“

“No! No… please, you’re the only one who talks to me like… like a person. Like I’m an adult.”

Donna frowned at that; it was clear they wanted to address it, wanted to refute it. Instead, they took another long hit before continuing.

“That’s why I don’t even remember when I got sick. It just was a thing that happened to me after a lot of things had already happened to me. I remember we were examining a blister or something like that—it was ginormous and weird and… I think one of the beetles had kind of… burrowed into their skin? Something gross like that. And then. Well. That was it. It was on me and it must have bit me. The rest is truly a blur: I was okay, and then I wasn’t, and then I was taken to the lazaret and—“

“You were still alive? When you went to… when they took you? I thought just the bodies went. So they could be taken care of. Not real people...”

“I would have gotten people sick, Dami. They… they couldn’t keep me there—“

“But all the other patients stayed? Why send you then when you were alive?”

Donna’s brows knit together; it felt like Damien was shouting at someone, someone else entirely. Accusing a person who wasn’t there. Was there?

“I don’t… I don’t know. That’s just how it happened. I was so sick, I didn’t… I don’t remember anything of the island just the boat ride and then… I died there.”

“But dad? You must have been able to say goodbye. He must have… they must have—“

“No. He… I would have made him sick, Damien. Valdemar, they…”

Donna’s voice broke, finally. It was just like speaking with his father: everything was factual, to the point, until either one had to speak of the other. It was too painful for the couple to think of, to think of one without the other, to think of never being able to say goodbye. But it had happened, the memory like a scar deep inside one another. Unseen but felt.

I know. That’s how I felt too when they made me leave without saying goodbye.

“We can stop, mama. That’s… we can stop. I'm sorry I got upset--”

“I’m sorry! It wasn’t as cool of an answer as I thought it would be. I can make one up? Or you make one up?”

“You’re asking your only child to make up a story about how you died?”

“That’s… terrible when you say it out loud, yeah. I guess my maternal skills are… lacking.”

And then they were laughing. They both had the same, wheezy cackle that could shake the leaves off of trees; tears stung their eyes as both took turns hacking into their arms. Naturally, Donna’s hand landed on Damien’s back. He leaned closer to them, resting his head on their shoulder as he giggled. Donna sighed, snuggling closer to him.

“That’s… all over now, though. I mean, look! I’m here! Flesh and all! Lots of flesh. Maybe too much.”

“Flesh, flesh, flesh…” Damien murmured, a sleepy smile on his face. Donna smiled and shook their head.

“Let’s get you to bed. It’s double not a good thing to get my only son high out of his mind when we have work to do tomorrow.”

“Nah, I think that part’s fine. Every parent should do this.

“Let’s go, mi Vida. I’ll walk you.”

Linking pinkies, Donna led the pair back to Damien’s chambers. They continued whispering on the walk back, both cracking harmless jokes at one another. Once they made it to Damien’s room, he stopped them, holding both of Donna’s hands in his. They had finally registered that he was without his gloves; his charred skin rubbed against theirs, the blacks of his hands clashing with their skin.

“Are you mad, mama?”

“Not at all, my darling boy. When I say you can ask me anything, I mean it.”

Damien held their hands tighter, looking down at their feet. He looked so much like he did as a child, with the same pout and the same puffed cheeks. Despite everything, despite the years and space and grief, he was still their son.

He was still theirs.

“I… I’m glad you’re my mom. And I’m glad you’re here.” Damien swallowed, refusing to look at them. He didn’t need to see that tears were welling in Donna’s eyes, didn’t need to hear this was something they had craved hearing from him. “I love you. Good night.”

“I… I love you, too, vida,” Donna whispered before placing a flurry of kisses on Damien’s head. He snorted, finally grinning. “I’m glad you’re my son. And words can’t tell you how happy I am to have you here—that we can both be here.”

They didn’t need to see the tears welling in Damien’s eyes as he bolted to his room. Didn’t need him to say it to know he had been craving those words from them for some time. Perhaps ever since he came home.

Mother and son, both dead and rising from the grave, wishing one another good night, promising that they would see each other in the morning.

#bottom writes #the arcana #the arcana game #fan apprentice donna #problem child damien #the disaster family #this is also a reminder for Damien that while HES a weirdo his parent objectively has him beat with magic nonsense LMAO #in my cotemporary fiction title era #just gonna start posting really old one shots before i let them rot forever LMFAO #its lore time time for lore

[mmmmalo]

Listening to an audiobook of Last of the Mohicans at work since that seems to be an urtext of popular narratives on Native Americans. Struck by the fixation on the war practice of scalping enemies -- Inglourious Basterds latched onto that one too, Raine lays claim to an Apache heritage and demands German scalps. Was fishing around for a plausible cipher in Homestuck and the only thing that came to mind was Dad's inexplicable obsession with shaving? in conjunction with his love of pipes, the peace pipe-smoking chieftain being another image that's been imprinted in my head by the cultural aether. And tobacco originated in North America anyway... it'd be some real John Carpenter shit loading that into an image of a Perfectly Generic Father

But those are both pretty local to Dad and difficult to track across the story for comparison... I guess it might be significant that the scene where Hussie kisses Rufio directly precedes John finding Dad's wallet? Not just because Hussie-as-Pan frames themself as a father figure to Rufio, but also because Rufio's status as "Indian" within the Peter Pan narrative maps to Dad's 10 tons of pipe tobacco and pile of razor blades? A connection of shaving to scalping might also account for why Barbasol shaving cream is characterized as lethal... though the black & white packages could be problematized separately along the occasional characterization of bombs as sites of miscegenation. The way Dad's shaving almanac has a skull and crossbones on the cover would also make sense... though I used to chalk up that morbidity to a general anxiety around the prospect of adulthood

If Dad's Native coded, I sort of wonder about clowns... Psycholonials comes to mind again, opening as it does with a sort of morose reflection on the colonization of Nantucket before launching off to clown revolution. In Homestuck itself though, nothing's coming to mind... I thought Gamzee's "whoop whoop" might act as a invocation of a war whoop but it looks like he only says that once, in the Epilogues. Gonna keep an eye out for this though, that wonderfully obnoxious "clowns are the most dispriveleged class of all" line from Friendsim is ringing in my head

#native motifs #is the tag I guess #I'll start getting other stuff collected under that label soon #homestuck commentary

[mask131]

Deadly fall: Baron Samedi

BARON SAMEDI

Category: Vodou religion

 Baron Samedi (which is French for “Baron Saturday”) is without a doubt one of the most famous figures of the Vodou religion, but do you actually really know who he is? Popular media keeps using and reusing his name and appearance for everything and anything. Let’s take a look at the Baron’s real identity.

Already one popular misunderstanding is that Baron Samedi is not a god. In the Vodou religion that is only one God, the big G true God that made the world and rules over it. Baron Samedi is part of a group of powerful spirits known as the “loa”, mistaken for the “gods” of Vodou because they receive sacrifices and are at the center of rituals. While they all were inspired by gods of African cultures, in the Vodou religion they are rather entities half-way between saints and spirits that act as intermediaries between the human beings and the real big G God (Bondyé).

Baron Samedi is the loa of the dead : he is the head and leader of an entire “family” of loa called the Guédé, who are the spirits of death and fertility, lust and morbidity, forces associated with the passing into the afterlife, the ancestor worship, and the guarding of history and heritages. Baron Samedi himself is a force of death usually roaming between the world of the living and the one of the dead: he welcomes the souls that arrive in the underworld and acts as the master of the dead. He is the one that makes sure all the corpses rot so that nobody can bring them back as zombies, he can be met at cemetery crossroads and it is said that the oldest grave of a male deceased in a cemetery is dedicated to him (people put special crosses or a black top hat on it to consecrate the grave as the Baron Samedi’s grave).

But Baron Samedi is not just a force of death, as everyone presumes. The whole point of the Guede, as I said earlier, is that they mix the forces of life and death in one bizarre package, and as a result Baron Samedi, master of the dead, is also the giver of life. He is a loa of resurrection who is often called to help those that are dying or near death, to offer protection or healing: for you see, only the Baron Samedi can accept someone into the afterlife, by “digging their grave”, and so if he refuses to dig someone’s grave for one reason or another, this person won’t die. That’s how, by making offerings to or making deals with the Baron, you can heal grave wounds or cure mortal diseases: his powers are so great he can undo curses and fight off evil magic. What is offered to appease, please or thank the Baron Samedi range from cigar and rum to black coffee and grilled peanuts; but of course nothing beats a good “riding” ceremony where humans offer themselves as “rides” to allow the loa to enter the human world through their bodies (a sort of holy possession ritual).

Baron Samedi has two great loves in life (beyond his own wife, Maman Brigitte, another loa of the dead) : alcohol and tobacco. The Baron is always seen with either a cigar in his mouth, or a cup of rum in his hand, or both! He is known to be a quite obscene spirit that constantly swears and loves to make filthy jokes, and while he is married, he still doesn’t hesitate to seduce or chase down human women for sweet and passionate love. In terms of appearance, the Baron Samedi originally was depicted as a living, talking, moving skeleton – though with popular culture and media adaptations it became common to depict him as a black man with a skull painted on his face). He wears a top hat, a tail coat and sunglasses (all black, of course), plus cotton plugs in his nostrils: this whole outfit is actually an evocation and a mimic of the way male corpses are prepared for funerals in Haiti. Whenever he speaks, it is with a nasal voice.

As I said before, Baron Samedi has a family; his lovely wife is Maman Brigitte, a female and foul-mouthed loa of death often appearing as a white woman ; and together they have an adoptive son, Guede Nibo. Once he was a handsome young human man, but after his brutal murder his spirit was adopted by the loas of death – he is now a leader of the dead and a great healer like his father, appearing as black-dressed, effeminate dandy, or even as a nasal-voiced, lascivious cross-dresser.  There are also, among the Guédé family, several other “Barons” that are either Baron Samedi’s brothers, either minor incarnations of him – sometimes they’re colleagues, sometimes they’re the same. The three most notorious of them are Baron Cimetière (Baron Cemetery, guardian of cemeteries and protector of graves), Baron La Croix (Baron The Cross, a more suave and sophisticated version of Samedi who is prone to philosophizing about death) and Baron Criminel (Baron Criminal, who is the dreaded spirit of the first murderer to have ever been sentenced to death).

- - - - - - - - -

For a more sinister and less funny bit of trivia… Baron Samedi is an integral and prominent part of the Haitian Vodou (before it spread elsewhere, like in Louisiana and the like). And he is also tied to the grim political history of Haiti. One of the most infamous names of Haiti’s history is François Duvalier (aka “Papa Doc”), who started out as the elected president of Haiti in the late 50s, but quickly became an oppressive and tyrannical leader using many dictatorial elements ranging from death squads to personality cults. Said personality cult heavily included elements from Haitian folklore, mythology and religion – and one figure Papa Doc especially liked was Baron Samedi. He uses subtle elements to make himself quite similar to the Baron – the two most notably being that he wore dark glasses and spoke with a nasal voice during public speeches and important appearances.

Now Duvalier is long dead, and the Duvalier regime, while outlasting Papa Doc through his son, the just as feared and reviled Jean-Claude Duvalier, is over – but the “President for Life”’s connection to the Baron Samedi left its mark, and as a result even today the Baron Samedi is seen, perceived and used in the context of “secret societies” and the shadiness of politics.

#deadly fall #baron samedi #vodou mythology #loa

[exanimateisacomic]

It was a morbid question that gave him a brother.

Seth pondered at the kitchen table one morning when a curious thought fluttered across his mind

“Do-do you think I could visit my grave?”

Luis almost spat out his juice. “Uh-um…you-you want to see your grave?”

Seth nodded. “The school I go-“ he cleared his throat “went to, included a burial plot along with the scholarship I got.”

Luis gave him a look.

“I was getting my degree in cadaver sciences, they offered a lot for anyone who was interested.” Seth added, shrugging it off. “I even got the administration board to agree to bury me along my mom and dad.”

Luis paused as he got lost in thought. He finished his glass and set it down with a thunk. “Well…” He checked his watch “I’m free all day today.”

‘Not surprising’ Seth thought to himself. He could hear Levi chuckle

“We can head out in like an hour, need to get my stretches in.” Luis said with his usual charming smile.

Seth nodded. “Good.”

It was a quiet fall afternoon, and the winds that blows through the Combs Memorial Yard was swift. There was a pause as wind died down and a booming sound was heard. Smoke filtered out of the mausoleum that was by the front gate. Luis stumbled out coughing and waving his hand in a futile attempt to clear the smoke.

“Oh *koff* god. I knew I was rusty in opening a quick portal but that was *cough* ridiculous.” He said, zipping up his jacket and gaining his surroundings.

Another figure stumbled out, coughing as well. “Noted.” Seth said, buttoning up his cardigan. He shivered as the wind picked back up. “All that time down there, I didn’t realize I had gotten used to the heat.”

“Yeah, that’ll happen.” Luis said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cell phone with the words “mortal plain” written on a piece of masking tape on the back. “Alright.. it looks like…oof, you technically died about a year ago. According to this news article at least.”

Seth looked at him “a year…” his gaze floated away from Luis towards the ground.

Luis clicked the phone off and walked up to him, resting his hand in his shoulder “I’m sorry bud. Do you need a minute?”

Seth snapped out of it and looked at Luis “no I’m- I’m good.”

Luis looked deep on his eyes “and Levi, are you okay?”

Seth felt his hand go numb and then move on it’s own, raising out of his pocket and forming a fist and holding it out like for a fist bump, moving up and down. ASL for “yes.”

Luis nodded. “Right.”

Seth felt his hand fall to his side and the feeling returned.

Luis started patting his pockets looking for his cigarettes. His brow furrowed as he was unable to locate them. “The fuck?” He looked back over to the mausoleum, jogged over and picked up some of the debris from the ground “aw man, my fucking smokes.” He walked over and showed Seth. The debris was smashed tobacco and torn paper. Luis sighed as he scanned the horizon, catching the glow of a nearby gas station sign in the sky.

“Okay look” he said to Seth “I’m gonna head over there and get some smokes, did you want to tag along or are you okay going in there by yourself?” Luis paused “well, not alone but- you know what I mean.”

Seth looked at the gates of the cemetery “I-we should be okay.”

Luis nodded. “Alright, I’ll be as fast as I can” he took a breath and phased into his human disguise.

He turned and made a dash for the gas station, leaving Seth there.

Seth took a breath and walked away from the gate and into the cemetery.

Seth gazed from grave marker to grave marker, the leaves crunching under his feet. He smiled,He missed the satisfying sound of them. he took a breath and let the cool air rest in his lungs before exhaling. ‘Right, left, right’ he thought to himself as he navigated the pathway. He could feel his body temperature flare up as he began to see familiar names appearing on the markers.

He was getting close.

And then, there it was. He stopped several feet from the black ebony marker. He stared at the name etched into the stone. The serif font standing out with its bright white coloring.

‘MORRIS’

Seth became aware of something. He should be anxious, his chest should be tightening with worry. But it wasn’t. He felt numb. His temperature ran cold.

“Okay Levi, here we go.” He muttered to himself as he took a step forward.

Then another. The names became clearer.

‘MORRIS’

‘David Morris 1970-2012’ ‘Mary Morris 1972-2012’

He looked down and saw his name on the bottom right, but…

“Wait..”

What he saw made his blood run cold. He hadn’t been this close to the marker before. From a distance you could only see the top two names. But there was a name next to his.

‘Levi Morris 1995-2012’ ‘Seth Morris 1998-2022’

“What?” He found himself saying, his eyes vibrated as they locked on to Levi’s name. “But- but- GAH!”

He felt the shooting pain along his left temple. He staggered back and stumbled onto one knee, he felt the pain spread like fire, his body going numb at it rippled across his body.

He was losing control.

Seth, overwhelmed by this information, let himself slip into unconsciousness as Levi took control of the body.

Levi opened his eyes and looked back at the marker.

“I..I am your older brother?” He said, getting back up and looming over the stone before him.

“I… died that night…in the fire?”

He could feel the tears rolling out from his eyes and down his cheeks.

#exanimate story idea #exanimate #seth morris #luis lynch #levi morris #personal project

[thewiredgarden]

Continue on the Shirogane x rocma story with Idate finding out there dating. The rest is up to you

So…I ended up really liking this, and might make it a little side series? I dunno I just love these dumbasses.

Idate stared out at the boat, his arms crossed as he practically chewed his cigarette, spitting out some bits and pieces of unburnt tobacco as some were pushed out to the wrapping. He’d been gone for a few months, but now that he’d come back the one girl he liked and the boy he liked to pick on were now a couple, practically joined at the hip all the time now.It was…frustrating, no…infuriating. Rock, his best, and in most cases only, friend looked over at the steaming whale and raised a brow. 

“Stop being an asshole and glaring at them. You’re being obvious as hell.” Rock looked back to his own fishing line. Idate eventually sat down next to him silently, which was never a good sign. “Look, are you really that surprised they got together? Those two bonded over you kicking the guy’s ass. If you don’t like them being together you’re the only one to blame.” Rock looked at Idate and frowned. He actually looked upset, not just pissed. “Idate…what’s going on?”

“I’m pissed.” Idate grunted, kicking out his feet to take up more room. “I’m pissed because I saw it coming and I ran away again.”

“…Again?”  Rock looked to the orca and raised a brow again at his rather constipated looking demeanor.

“If shit seems too…tough I just…bolt.” Idate looked away, lighting a new cigarette as he had practically chewed the other one in half. Rock looked at his friend and actually felt…pity for him, he sighed slightly, looking down and shaking his head.

“You’re not going to try and sabotage them at all are you?” Rock asked, bracing himself for this idiot’s answer but having a slight morbid curiosity all the same. Idate finally cracked a slight grin as he turned his head slightly and looked to Rock out of the side of his eye. 

“I’d be lying to you if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind at all…” Idate didn’t really want to lie to his best friend, his only friend. “But no, I’m not gonna. They look…pretty happy together in that stupid fucking boat.”

“Maybe you should go and apologize?” Rock looked away again as Idate stared at him in shock. “Look man, I’m serious. You’re clearly seething on the inside right now, and it’s really starting to show. So go apologize and quit being a shit head, you shit head.” Idate was silent as he looked at the boat again, seeing the bright and happy face of Shirogane and the smile of Rocma. He sighed, slowly climbing up from where he was sitting and heading into the water. He could already tell in his gut that this wasn’t going to end well, but what harm was there in humoring his friend just this once?

Over at the boat Shirogane laughed a bit as it rocked again, Rocma having made another stupid crude joke. As he was giggling, he watched as her cheeky smile faded, her eyes laser focused on something in the water. He turned his head, seeing the fin slowly making its way over to them. He yelped, standing and causing the boat to rock even more. 

“Shiro don’t!” Rocma shouted as she stood, the boat completely unstable now. Shirogane went to grab Rocma as the boat suddenly flipped. Shirogane started to swim down to try and get Rocma when his very heavy tackle box cracked the back of his skull. Blood was in the water, his vision slowly starting to bleed into black. Rocma was still sinking, her eyes wide in terror. Shirogane couldn’t see much as he reached out to grab her, when another strong hand grabbed his arm and yanked him forward. He tried to turn his head, seeing Idate grabbing his arm. He wanted to panic but the fog from the tackle box was still there and he was more limp than anything.

Idate swam forward a bit faster, finally grabbing Rocma’s dress and yanking her towards the surface. She instinctively swiped at him with her claws, her own panic starting to set in as her lungs started to burn. Her claws suddenly hit paydirt however, as more blood blossomed in the water, long marks across Idate’s face now. The orca scowled a bit, but didn’t let her go, the two lovebirds being not so gracefully hurled onto shore. 

Rocma coughed up a fair bit of water before she turned to Shirogane whose head was still bleeding a bit. She didn’t know what to do, before turning as she heard water splash. She stood tall, her claws ready to slash open Idate’s gut as he climbed onto the berg. He looked at her, his face  showing more of a confused expression if anything. 

“Are you fucking blind?! Get him to Yukisada numbnuts!” He snapped at her, tossing his cigarette away as blood ran down his own face. Rocma stared longer, more confused and stunned than anything. Idate groaned, grabbing the both of them and dragging them, easily, to Yukisada’s igloo.

~~~~~~

Idate winced a bit as more alcohol was pressed against the light gashes in his face. He would have preferred to drink it, but the owl wasn’t going to let him, the prick, due to it being a blood thinner or something. He glanced over at Rocma, who was wrapped in multiple blankets and towels, lording over Shirogane who was laying on her lap. A long and uncomfortable silence fell over the room as Yukisada did his work fixing everyone up. 

“Is he… the wolf, I mean. Is he gonna be okay?” Idate finally spoke, hissing and swearing a bit as he felt the swab press against the cuts again.

“Yes, he is.” Yukisada sighed slightly, grabbing some wrappings to wrap around Idate’s face. “Hold still, please.”

“Why the hell did you jump us?” Rocma snarled, Idate snorting in response.

“Jump you? I was just coming over to say hi.” Idate flashed a casual grin, his hand instinctively feeling around for his smokes and lighter. 

“Cut the bullshit!” shouted Rocma, whose eyes were full of blistering fury, which ended up causing Idate to actually fall quiet. That bit came as a genuine surprise to Rocma while she reached down and reflexively rested a hand across Shirogane’s chest in a protective gesture. “Your swimming up scared the hell out of him and the boat tipped. The only reason you were going to come over would be to harass us. Why?”

“If I was going to harass you two, why the hell would I save you, especially after you slashed up my face?” said Idate as he turned his head to snap, only to get pulled back by Yukisada.

“I……I don’t know.” responded Rocma. She went a bit quiet, Idate doing much of the same. She took a moment to gather her thoughts to choose her words carefully. “Why did you save us?” She finally asked after the tension increased tenfold.

“Because I treated you both like shit. It took me a bit of time to realize that but now that I do, I feel shitty about how I treated the both of you.” said Idate frowning. The red of his blood began to return unpleasant memories of that awful red sea. “I was just coming over to apologize, that’s all.” The silence from Rocma was deafening, Yukisada trying to remain silent between the two of them while the orca spilled his proverbial guts to the polar bear across the room.  

“Apologize?” Shirogane spoke up, slowly sitting up. Rocma’s head shot down to look at him while she tried to hold him down, but he smiled a bit. “I’m okay, I promise.” He leaned against  her, his head still swimming with vertigo and a mild smell of almonds in the room. “Why? Why on earth would I accept an apology from someone like you? You, who’s done nothing but bully and pick on me for as long as I can remember.” Idate winced a bit as he took the words to the face, not being able to respond with much of anything in return. Shirogane was correct, and he had no words that could be given as a valid response. 

“My, uh…my last little bender ended…badly. And I realized that I…didn’t have anyone that wanted me back. So,” Idate cleared his dry throat audibly, while Yukisada double checked the wrappings to make sure they were secure. Shirogane was a bit stunned into silence while  he slowly was able to support his own weight. Both Rocma and Yukisada tried to stop him but he stumbled slightly across the room before he sat down next to Idate. Up close he could see that he wasn’t lying, and that something really bad had happened to the orca while he was gone.

“The things you’ve done, not just to me but to a lot of people here on the berg…I don’t think it’s any surprise when I say that it’s going to be a long road to get anyone to trust you.” Shirogane stared at the side of Idate’s head, the orca not being able to really look him in the eye. 

“I know.” mumbled Idate. He was right, and that was probably the part that hurt the most. The two seemed to let the silence hang in the air while Rocma stood frozen for a moment, not liking the idea of Shirogane being within strangling distance of the orca.

“Thank you for…saving us. Rocma and I, I mean…” Shirogane smiled slightly. “Honestly, I thought you were coming over because you liked her and were going to beat me up…” A small smile could be seen as Idate looked at Shirogane out of the side of his eye. 

“…Nah.” said Idate, his hands finally finding his cigarettes and lighter as he pulled out a smoke from the pack. He did his best to keep it out of Yukisada’s reach so it wasn’t put out. “She’s happier with you. And that makes me happy enough.”

#ice scream #dsp #deep sea prisoner #mogeko #okegom #Rocma (Ice scream) #rocma #rocma x shirogane #shirogane (ice scream) #Shirogane #Yukisada #yukisada (ice scream) #iDate #idate orca #Idate (Ice Scream) #rock (ice scream) #funamusea

[medicus-mortem]

Trying to De-stress

While on the Thousand Sunny.

Chopper caught Law looking through his medical supplies once. Law was looking for something to get high off of but the little reindeer interrupted him. When Chopper asked Law what he was doing he lied. Told him he saw some drugs he’d never seen before and wanted to see their chemical make up. Chopper, of course, believed him and beamed so brightly because this meant he could teach Law something. The next three hours was spent with Chopper explaining all his pharmaceutical knowledge to Law and shoving some books at him. In the end Law didn’t get high but he learned some things and that’s almost as good.

Law definitely filched a cigarette off Sanji once just to get some sort of calming chemical into his brain. Thing is, Law does not like the taste of tobacco, very much prefers marijuana. So he gagged a little at the taste. Sanji scoffed at him and Law flipped him off. Still, he kept with it because the calm was working somewhat. But hours after that cigarette Law could smell the smoke on his clothes. That reminded him of Cora and made his mind spiral into depressive thoughts. After learning about that reaction Sanji refused to share his cigarettes with Law.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Law found a bag of coins. He figured Nami had accidentally misplaced them and he took an opportunity to look through them for any coins missing from his collection. Or at least any that weren’t immediately familiar since his collection wasn’t actually on hand. For a while this helped a lot. He could focus on something he enjoyed and for a time he actually relaxed. Right up until Nami found him with the coins. Figuring he’d stolen them she was not happy and things turned into an argument. Didn’t help that Law was determined not to let her know his true intentions, what with him being a secretive bastard. Would have gone smoother if he actually told her he was a coin collector.

Brook noticed Law’s tension at one point and decided to play him a song to help him relax. That did not work because Brook’s mere presence had Law on edge. A talking skeleton that can somehow eat, fart, and grow his bones back with only milk is not a calming presence for a doctor.

When Law found out Usopp grew his own weed (yes I enjoy the ‘Usopp smokes weed’ headcanon) he scared the poor man into giving him some. That helped a lot. He got amusement out of scaring Usopp, which helped his stress lessen a little, and he actually got high. So all in all, a successful method.

Zoro offered training and sparring options to Law on many occasions. The sparring was good, helped Law get some of his tension out with some violence. That one ended up being a regular occurrence. Working out, on the other hand, didn’t quite work for Law or Zoro. Law kept questioning Zoro’s routine and lifting posture, irritating the other swordsman. Meanwhile, Zoro kept trying to make Law lift greater weights, or even goad him into a competition. Law’s own training isn’t strength training, not like what Zoro does. He’s more about flexibility and endurance. That difference in work out routine just had them getting annoyed with each other.

Sharing a coffee with Robin might just be the only time Law has a measure of peace while with the Straw Hats. She’s a calming presence and is intelligent enough that he likes talking to her. They’ll sit together at her little tea table, either having a conversation that probably turns morbid quickly or playing chess. Beyond Sanji giving Law angry and pointed looks, these coffee breaks don’t tend to be interrupted. Robin even manages to shoo Luffy away.

Franky doesn’t really offer any possible de-stressing methods. He’s also way too high energy for Law. Plus, Law looks at that fridge stomach and instantly wants to rip Franky apart to see what the fuck is happening there. Despite how often cutting someone to pieces relaxes Law, he suppresses that urge. Wouldn’t be helpful for him to start pulling apart his allies. ... Even if he so often really wants to.

The only place on the Thousand Sunny where Law feels comfortable in any sense is the aquarium bar. Down there he can almost feel like he’s back in the Polar Tang, back inside his safe home. He may be surrounded by allies but while on the Thousand Sunny Law does not feel completely safe. Sometimes seeing the ocean stretched out around him and knowing this ship can’t submerge makes Law feel exposed and vulnerable. He does not like that. So when he’s feeling like that he’ll go into the aquarium bar to watch the fish and take a nap.

Unfortunately, regardless of any de-stressing method that succeeds, Law’s relaxed status does not last for very long. Luffy always manages to turn up and ruin Law’s chill without fail. Be it with his insistence on doing something stupid, or with a sudden urge to just fling himself at Law, somehow Luffy will make Law’s blood pressure sky rocket all over again.

#Dark History // Headcanons #[thought I'd share more of Law's suffering while he's with the Straw Hats]

[cordeliathefloofydemon2]

10, 14, 32 for the ask game

10 : Not really. My dad knows I know tumblr but he’s convinced it’s absolutely dead and my moots are bots but he thinks he’s being nice and not telling me your bots but bruh your not bots it’s a whole troupe.

14 : I try to send my texts as one, but my family have attention spans of actual mushrooms so I end up doin the latter.

32 : Yes. But it’s rather morbid. The smell of tobacco and cigarettes remind me of my great grandfather who I’ve known my whole life. He passed in this past may.

#floof #evil floof #lord floof #whoops #took a turn #a queer remembrance #number asks

[cripplepunkrick]

Ria “Teensy” Sanchez

Basics

Character’s full name: Ria Madicella Sanchez 

Character’s nickname: Teensy

Reason for nickname: she's 4'9"

Birth date: January 19

Gender: Nonbinary

Pronouns: They/Them and She/Her, used interchangeably

Physical Appearance

Age: unknown: she literally doesn't remember. Best guess is early 100s

How old do they appear: 80ish

Weight: 85lbs

Height: 4'9"

Body build: all elbows and knees; very lanky and boney.

Shape of face: long and angular, with a narrow, hooked nose and thin lips

Eye color: hazel

Glasses or contacts: none

Skin tone: greyish olive

Distinguishing marks: long, deeps scars running down inside of their upper arms and thighs, top surgery scars on chest.

Predominant features: heavy mono-brow, hooked nose, freckles on face and arms

Hair color: steely grey, occasionally with other colours dyed in

Type of hair: coarse

Hairstyle: punk mullet; long in the back and spiked in the front

Voice: harsh, a little shaky, slightly nasal, and spoken in a thick south Texas accent 

Overall attractiveness: subjective. They see nothing wrong with their appearance.

Physical disabilities: lupus, ankylosing spondylitis, partial deafness (HOH)

Usual fashion of dress: classic punk; lots of denim, leather, and flannel. Spikes and patches. She rarely throws anything out, so most of her clothes show hand-done repair.

Favourite outfit: Checked flannel shirt, open denim vest coated in various pins and patches, tight black jeans with years of distress to the knees and thighs, and heavy Doc Martens. 

Jewelry or accessories: thick leather cuffs, usually with spikes or chains, worn around their wrists, chokers or chains around her neck. Often wears dog tags from time served as a medic.

Personality

Good personality traits: Happy, fun loving, genuine desire to make the world better, stays in her own lane, private

Bad personality traits: Isolates, paranoid, vicious when crossed

Mood character is most often in: Vaguely crabby but good natured

Sense of humor: Good, but often morbid/dark

Greatest joy in life: Teaching people things

Greatest fear: Being buried alive and forgotten.

Why?: Claustrophobia + fear of suffocation

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?: Death of any of her ‘girls’ (Beth, Morticia, and/or Summer)

Most at ease when: in the kitchen or laboratory at home, with family near at hand.

Most ill at ease when: Morticia goes adventuring without her

Enraged when: anyone messes with her people.

Depressed or sad when: in the middle of a bad pain flare. 

Priorities: Family, personal comfort, everyone else

Life philosophy: Do the day, and let the day do you.

If granted one wish, it would be: to undo the damage to her ears

Why?: so she can hear her music better (and the kids, too, I guess)

Character’s soft spot: Morticia/ welfare of Mortys in general

Is this soft spot obvious to others?: probably, if anyone bothered to look

Greatest strength: Calm under pressure

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: Insecure around other Ricks

Biggest regret: Giving up on medicine as a career

Minor regret: Leaving Stan

Biggest accomplishment: Serum that stopped aging for decades at a time, if used daily, which allowed her to survive AS when it should have been fatal at her age/timeline, because she was essentially pausing her body’s age every day.

Minor accomplishment: Created a synthetic nicotine substance that can be smoked without causing cancer. Big tobacco hates her

Past failures they would be embarrassed to have people know about: Used to be obsessed with immortality and not aging; kept herself looking 25-30 for decades, long enough that they no longer are sure how old they actually are.

Why?: It’s embarrassing to them that they were that vain.

Character’s darkest secret: Tried to create a cure for AS, but though the trial worked well in animal tests, when they tested it on a volunteer humans, it killed them pretty nastily. They gave up creating a cure after that.

Does anyone else know?: Yes, but very few people. Morticia knows, but Beth and Summer do not.

Goals

Drives and motivations: Loves to learn and experience new things. 

Immediate goals: Have a good time

Long term goals: don’t die

Past

Hometown: Originally born in Arecibo, Puerto Rico, Teensy did most of her growing up in Houston, Texas

Type of childhood: Decent, middle class, but chronically under stimulated and had an incredibly intense stress put on appearance, especially regarding aging. 

Pets: Many, mostly cats in childhood

First memory: meeting her adoptive parents

Most important childhood memory: meeting her maternal, blood-relative grandmother

Why: Because it brought her closer to the people and traditions she lost when her birth parents died.

Childhood hero: Charles Lindbergh

Dream job: Doctor (or a pilot…) 

Education: Formal education, a Bachelor's Degree in Science, and several higher honorary degrees in various science and medical related fields. Learned most of their chemistry and engineering skills through trial and error with personal research.

Religion: Raised Baptist, introduced to Catholicism by grandmother at 8 years old

Finances: Middle class

Present

Current location: Farm outside of Gun Barrel City, Texas

Currently living with: Morticia, her granddaughter, and occasionally with Beth and Summer, when either of them come to visit

Pets: Peekaboo, a little moppy-looking purse dog, and several pampered  barn cats

Religion: Agnostic

Occupation: Retired

Finances: Money is not a concern (All that synthetic nicotine money, eyyyy)

Family

Mother: Mabelle Sanchez nee Holiday, deceased

Relationship with her: Generally good, but increasingly distant as Teensy grew older. 

Father: Avery Sanchez, deceased

Relationship with him: Strained, and increasingly so as Teensy grew older. 

Siblings: None

Spouse: Ex-husband, Stanley Pines

    Relationship: estranged

Harold Leist, Deceased

    Relationship: was generally very amiable, though Harold was often confused or shocked by Teensy’s scientific endeavors. Teensy married him because he was loyal, kind, and cared about Beth when Beth was still very young and recovering from Teensy and Stan’s sudden separation.

Children: Beth Sanchez

Relationship with them: Solid, but occasionally they argue, mostly about Stan. Beth often visits her father’s dimension and Teensy is not a fan.

Other important family members: Granddaughters Summer and Morticia, Grandmother Rosaria Solas Marquez(Deceased) 

Favourites

Colour: bright colours, usually neon blues, pinks, and greens

Least favorite colour: beige

Music: she has eclectic taste, but she plays everything loud. One of her favourite songs currently is Our Last Night’s cover of abcdefu.

Food: Fish, especially white fish. Cooks for flavour, so uses a lot of herbs and spices in just about everything she makes.

Literature: Loves horror novels and poetry. Their favourite poem is ‘In the Desert’ by Steven Crane, and their favourite book is ‘Koko’ by Peter Straub.

Form of entertainment:

Expressions: “Well, dip me in shit and set me t’ spin!”

Mode of transportation: trains. Teensy loves the leisure of a long train ride. 

Most prized possession: their portal gun

Habits

Hobbies: Mechanical tinkering, loves fixing old shit; bassist in a punk garage band comprised of a bunch of other elderly punks

Plays a musical instrument?: Electric bass

Plays a sport?: Played soccer up until their 40s, just recreationally. Still passionate about the international teams.

How they would spend a rainy day: Reading, working in the lab or workshop, or baking

Spending habits: tend to spend money on little trinkets and silly stuff that’ll be given away as gifts. Doesn’t bother paying attention to costs very often.

Smokes: often; weed, tobacco, and some alien hallucinogens

Drinks: nightly; loves absinthe and whiskey and various alien wines and spirits.

Other drugs: usually; she creates a lot of custom party drugs, going for things that make the user feel extremely good without doing (too much) damage to the body, as well as 

What do they do too much of?: Partying

What do they do too little of?: Genuine self-care

Extremely skilled at: Deflection, chemistry, engineering

Extremely unskilled at: conversation

Nervous tics: chews fingernails

Usual body posture: hunched shoulders and relaxed limbs

Mannerisms: Friendly, solicitous, curious, stickler for details

Peculiarities: Talks to animals like they’re people, ignores people as soon as she’s done with a conversation, literally will just get up and leave if they’re bored or annoyed.

Traits

Optimist or pessimist?:  optimist that pretends to be a pessimist

Introvert or extrovert?: Introvert

Daredevil or cautious?: Midline; more cautious than many Ricks seem to be

Logical or emotional?: Logical, but in extremely emotionally charged situations, trusts her gut

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat?: Methodical and neat

Prefers working or relaxing?: Working

Confident or unsure of himself/herself?: Confident, until set around a bunch of other Ricks.

Animal lover?: Yes, keeps many cats and a dog.

Self-Perception

How they feel about themself: comfortable, solidly proud and affectionate toward themself.

One word the character would use to describe self: Steadfast

One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: Good-natured curmudgeon ready to take on the world. Old as shit and looking for someone to hit. 

What does the character consider their best personality trait?: Being assertive

What does the character consider their worst personality trait?: being nosy

What does the character consider their best physical characteristic?: their eyes

What does the character consider their  worst physical characteristic?: the cracking, popping, noisy set of joints they have.

How does the character think others perceive them: as a redneck punk with a big mouth.

What would the character most like to change about themself: be bolder and more actively adventurous, like Ricky. 

Relationships with Others

Opinion of other people in general: Well intentioned bunch of morons.

Does the character hide their true opinions and emotions from others?: Rarely

Person character most hates: most citadel Ricks, and C-137

Best friend(s): Ricky

Love interest(s): None at the moment

Person they go to for advice: Mostly relies on their own research and intuition, but bounces ideas off Ricky and Morticia. 

Person they feel responsible for or takes care of: Morticia, Summer 

Person they feel shy or awkward around: Doesn’t show it much, but they’re shy about being around most Ricks. 

Person they openly admire: Ricky, Morticia, Summer, Beth

Person they secretly admire: Stan Pines

Most important person in their life before story starts: Beth and Beth’s children

After story starts: Beth and Beth’s children. 

#teensy #about me #OC profile #oc #rick and morty rp #rick and morty oc #female rick

[cardiologybd]

Risk Factors for Cardiovascular Diseases in Bangladesh

Risk Factors for Cardiovascular Diseases in Bangladesh have emerged as a significant health concern worldwide, including in Bangladesh. These diseases encompass a range of conditions that affect the heart and blood vessels, and they are responsible for a substantial number of deaths and disabilities. This article explores the risk factors associated with CVDs in Bangladesh, shedding light on the prevalence, common risk factors, unique regional influences, and strategies for prevention and management.

Prevalence of CVDs in Bangladesh

In recent years, Bangladesh has witnessed a significant rise in the prevalence of CVDs. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), CVDs account for nearly 30% of all deaths in the country. This places a heavy burden on the healthcare system and the economy. As Bangladesh grapples with this growing health crisis, understanding the risk factors becomes pivotal.

Common Risk Factors for Cardiovascular Diseases in Bangladesh

Cardiovascular diseases (CVDs) are a group of disorders that affect the heart and blood vessels, and they are a major cause of morbidity and mortality worldwide. Several risk factors for CVDs are universal and affect populations globally. - Hypertension (High Blood Pressure): Hypertension is a leading risk factor for CVDs. It refers to the increased force of blood against the walls of the arteries. This high pressure strains the heart as it pumps blood, and it also damages the arteries over time. - High Cholesterol: High cholesterol levels, specifically elevated levels of LDL (low-density lipoprotein) cholesterol, are associated with an increased risk of CVDs. LDL cholesterol can build up in the arteries, forming plaque. This plaque narrows the arteries and reduces blood flow to the heart and other organs. - Smoking: Tobacco use, particularly smoking, is a well-established risk factor for CVDs. The chemicals in tobacco smoke not only damage the lungs but also harm the heart and blood vessels. Smoking causes inflammation and can lead to the buildup of plaque in the arteries, making them narrower and less flexible. - Obesity: Being overweight or obese places additional stress on the heart. Excess body fat, especially around the abdomen, can lead to conditions such as insulin resistance and metabolic syndrome, which are associated with an increased risk of CVDs. Obesity can also raise blood pressure, promote inflammation, and disrupt the balance of various hormones. - Lack of Physical Activity: A sedentary lifestyle, characterized by minimal physical activity, can lead to weight gain and poor cardiovascular health. Regular exercise is essential for maintaining a healthy weight, improving heart function, and reducing the risk of CVDs. Physical activity helps lower blood pressure, control cholesterol levels, and enhance the overall efficiency of the cardiovascular system.

Unique Risk Factors in Bangladesh

Apart from the common risk factors, Bangladesh faces some unique challenges that contribute to the high prevalence of CVDs: - Air Pollution: Bangladesh experiences severe air pollution, primarily due to industrial activities, vehicular emissions, and biomass burning. The polluted air has tiny particles (PM2.5) and harmful stuff that harms the heart. Breathing it in for a long time can cause inflammation and stress, making heart and blood vessels more vulnerable. Individuals exposed to such conditions may be more susceptible to CVDs. - Dietary Habits: Dietary habits in Bangladesh can contribute to the high prevalence of CVDs. Many traditional Bangladeshi diets are high in salt, which can lead to hypertension (high blood pressure), a well-established risk factor for CVDs. Additionally, unhealthy cooking methods, such as deep frying, can result in the consumption of trans fats, which are linked to coronary artery disease and other heart-related conditions. - Genetic Predisposition: Genetics plays a significant role in cardiovascular health. Some families in Bangladesh may have a genetic predisposition to CVDs. This means that certain individuals may inherit genes that increase their susceptibility to heart-related issues, making them more prone to CVDs even without the presence of other risk factors. Genetic predisposition is a unique challenge because it is not easily modifiable through lifestyle changes. - Stress: The fast-paced and demanding lifestyle, especially in urban areas of Bangladesh, can lead to high stress levels among the population. Chronic stress is known to contribute to the development and progression of CVDs. It can lead to behaviors like overeating, smoking, or lack of physical activity, all of which are risk factors for heart disease. Stress management and mental health support are essential in addressing this unique challenge.

Prevention and Management for the Risk Factors for Cardiovascular Diseases in Bangladesh

To combat the rising tide of CVDs in Bangladesh, a multifaceted approach is necessary. This includes: - Lifestyle Changes: Encouraging a healthier diet, regular exercise, smoking cessation, and stress management. - Importance of Regular Check-ups: Routine check-ups can help identify risk factors early, allowing for prompt intervention. - Government Initiatives: Government-led programs to promote heart-healthy living and provide better healthcare access. - Public Awareness Campaigns: Educating the public about the risks and preventive measures associated with CVDs.

Conclusion

In conclusion, cardiovascular diseases in Bangladesh are a growing concern. The interplay of common risk factors and unique regional influences has contributed to the high prevalence of CVDs. To fight this, take action with lifestyle changes, check-ups, and public awareness. Individuals should prioritize their health, and governments should support healthy policies.

FAQs

- What are the common symptoms of cardiovascular diseases? Common symptoms include chest pain, shortness of breath, fatigue, and irregular heartbeat. - How can one reduce the risk of CVDs in Bangladesh? To reduce the risk, individuals should maintain a healthy lifestyle, control blood pressure and cholesterol, and seek regular medical check-ups. - Are there any specific dietary recommendations for reducing the risk of CVDs in Bangladesh? Yes, reducing salt and trans fat intake, and consuming more fruits, vegetables, and whole grains can help. - What government initiatives are in place to address CVDs in Bangladesh? The government has initiated health programs to promote healthy living, and it's working on improving healthcare access in rural areas. - How can individuals manage stress to protect their heart health in Bangladesh? Stress management techniques, such as meditation, yoga, and seeking social support, can be beneficial for heart health. Read the full article

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