#grapefruit juice is my blood become

[grapefruide]

Episode 7: The Piper

Berry is indeed insanely lucky. Perhaps his survival is a blessing from the Slaughter for his experience. After all, someone has to walk away and tell the tale...

I feel I understand the Slaughter a lot better after the Chad incident. Unsure as to whether this makes it worth it. I also feel a lot closer to the Spiral, which is comforting in a way. My own doubts of my actions, my confusion regarding the will of the Fruit God... it's almost exhilarating, to be so close to my own Fear.

It's such an honor, to be an Avatar. I envy Wilfred.

That's a part of the Slaughter, too. Even the fear of anticipation, the fear of a lack of fighting. The fear of the war, even if it if isn't near you.

The misery of war... it fascinates me.

What does he mean, that his poetry lacks soul? There is no soul. There is no soul in death. That's the point of it.

I long to hear the sound of the Piper, but for now I'll settle for MCR.

I know that anticipation, I know it in the mud and blood trapped forevermore beneath my nails.

I love the fear. I love the Fear. I love the FEAR.

I love the blood I love the pain I love the fear I long for it I long for it I want to taste his blood and taste his pain and taste his fear

I long for the taste of a weapon in my hands my heart sings for the sound of the drums the pipe is my breath the screams are my blood my mind is

not

mine

[chaoticallywriting]

A Merciful King ☼ Chapter Four

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen II x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: Violence against women, choking, angst, vaginal fingering, female receiving oral, p n v sex, unprotected sex (i mean she’s already preggers guys)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N:  I originally posted this series on TheGreensWhore. Unfortunately I got shadowbanned on there so I’m reposting all of amk onto here and will be posting further chapters on here instead of there.

Synopsis: The war is over, the blacks have lost, and as Rhaenrya’s daughter it is your duty to marry a green to secure your younger brothers safety. If only Aemond paid attention to you like his brother does.

Previously || Next

It’s a month and a half later when everyone finds out. By now you're three and a half months along and all you want is to devour sweets (and any fruit) you can get your hands on. You wake up without blood on the sheets for another month, your handmaidens eye each other suspiciously before one finds the courage to speak up.

Marial fiddles with her hands before meekly asking, “have you gone to a maester, your grace?”

“What for?” You know you aren’t the best liar in the family, but you're decent. Furrowing your brows, you tilt your head and eye Marial. You play dumb brilliantly apparently because Myra speaks up next.

“You haven’t bled in months, your grace.”

Your eyes widen as you pick up a small honey cake. Your other hand comes to your stomach as you feign shock.

“Really? Oh my, we should definitely call for one then.” Lila turns her back to the others as she fills your cup with grapefruit juice. It’s another thing you’ve been craving. There’s a knowing look on her face that she hides from the rest.

Marial leaves soon after to fetch one while Lila and Myra do your hair. You softly hum to yourself as they do, thinking about the night before. Almost every night, Aegon has come to you through a secret passage in your wall. You didn’t know about it and find it slightly frightening, but Aegon assured you no one used it. Sometimes he would fuck you, which you’ve grown to like and even sometimes seem to crave. While other times he just holds you. Almost always he falls asleep with his head on your chest and leaves before you wake.

You’ve come to like his presence and find yourself unable to sleep when he doesn’t come. There’s only been two other times besides last night that he did not grace you with his presence. You never asked where he went because you had an idea of what his answer may be.

You're yawning into your hand when Maester Grant and Alicent come waltzing in. The queen mother is grinning from ear to ear when she enters and stands beside the maester throughout his questioning. His questions are simple and you answer them quickly. After only a few minutes, he announces you must be pregnant. Alicent slaps her hands together to look like a prayer and brings them to her mouth as she smiles.

Her reaction makes you sad. At this moment, you wish for your mother and are reminded of how she’ll never meet your child. Suddenly this pregnancy, the one you've been hiding and pretending doesn’t exist, finally becomes real. Alicent distracts your melancholic thoughts by telling the maester he may go before turning back to you.

She walks over and takes your hands in hers, a bright smile on her face. “Motherhood will suit you well, my dear. I already see how well you take to it with your brothers.”

You smile, hands gripping hers. “Thank you, your grace. I am extremely nervous, though.”

Alicent brings her hands up to cup your cheeks, you rest your own against your stomach. She’s never been mean to you since you married Aemond. At first, she tried to have tea with you every day, but as your depression grew you tended to seclude yourself. One day during tea she had said something that stuck with you, something you think of every time you look in the mirror.

“You look just like her. Your face is the exact same.”

You knew she meant your mother. You also know they used to be childhood friends. You can only assume that she finds comfort with your presence, maybe she can pretend your mother is still alive. That everything is fine and everyone survived.

“Do not fret. I believe once you give him a babe, he’ll start to see you in a new light. If he’s so obsessed with his other child, then imagine how he’ll be with yours.”

You imagine he’ll be indifferent, but you don’t tell her that. You only nod and let her have her useless hope. Alicent requests you spend the afternoon with her and shows you fabrics for gowns that must (according to her) be made for when your belly grows.

There’s tea and many sweets are scattered across the table as she fingers a deep green fabric with lace detailing. Everything is green, that much you expected, but still find yourself disappointed.

After a long discussion on which fabrics to choose, you find yourself walking to the library. You have two missions that require heading there. One, you wish to find any Targaryen names that you may like for the babe. You have a vague idea of ones you already like, but want to skim some old history books to see if there are any others.

You’ve read almost every book about your family's history and old homeland. Your childhood consisted of you obsessed over texts and becoming entranced by such grandiose stories.

Number Two is a bit tricky. You know, Aemond spends most of his time there when he’s not training. Since Ser Cole is with Alicent you can only assume he’s in there. As you weave around the shelves, books in your arms, you keep your eyes open for the one eyed prince. It doesn’t take long to find him lounging by the fireplace, long legs elegantly crossed as he leans against the arm rest, book in hand.

You place your books on a desk not far from him and grab the first one before taking the seat across from him. He eyes the spine as you open it, brow raised.

“Any particular reason for the history lesson?”

“A maester visited me this morning.”

There’s a beat of silence. His cool expression doesn’t change, but he clenches his book between his hands.

“Okay.”

“Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“Mhmm.”

“Do you really want this baby to grow up with two parents who can’t stand to be in the same room as one another?”

He sighs, closing his book and staring at you. He doesn’t look like he used to. Aemond seems defeated, you can tell by his stature and the look within his eye. He’s slowly becoming a shell of himself, which scares you. It seems everyone has lost themselves due to that useless war. You only wish it never happened.

“ I do not, but I can’t help feeling like I’m betraying her when I’m near you.”

“Look I… I was raised with an interesting family situation regarding my father or fathers. I also know that when we were little, you told me Viserys didn’t care about you.”

Aemond scoffs. The one eyed prince stands, tossing his book onto the table beside him before walking over to the window. His hands are clasped behind him as he peers out of the glass. He can never stand to be near you for long, something that stabs your heart.

“I don’t want that for this babe. I don’t want confusion on who to love or look up to. I don’t want them to feel like they have to fight for your love, either.”

Tossing the book aside, you stand as well, walking over to him and peering up at Aemond. He’s much taller than you, if he looked away from the window he’d have to look down to meet your eyes. But he doesn’t move, you only know he knows you're beside him by the tick in his jaw.

“Do you want to subject a child to the way you felt as one? Is your son going to be your Rheanrya? For someone so smart, I find it unbelievable you’ll willingly repeat the mistakes of your own fath-”

Aemond’s hand wraps around your throat before he can stop himself, his cool expression transforming to one of unbridled rage. Your body smacks into the wall behind you and your vision swims with small black dots.

You wheeze as you fight to keep your hands by your sides and not grip at his own. You won’t look weak to him anymore. Not only that, but you now have the upper hand. You’re done being ignored.

“Say another word about me and I’ll squeeze harder” he threatens. It’s empty though because if you die his son won’t be safe. The realm won’t be safe. Your life is the only thing keeping the ever weakening thread of peace from snapping. He knows this. Aemond is a smart man, one you sometimes admire. Killing you would be a massive mistake. One that might cost him both his families.

“You’re a coward and a kinslayer. You owe me this after you murdered my little brother in cold blood.” He squeezes harder, your words come out in gasps. “Perhaps I’ll name my son Lucerys and teach him how to wield a knife, just as my brother did!”

Aemond’s eye widens in a mixture of shock and rage. He squeezes you hard enough to have you finally begin to panic before he finally lets go and tosses you to the floor. You fall to the floor in a gasping heap, hands smacking against the stone upon impact. One of your wrists stings while your other hand comes up to softly clutch your bruising neck.

You glance up at your husband, eyes filled with the hate you slowly find seeping into your bones. You’ve tried so hard to be agreeable, to be pretty and nice. To be the perfect wife or friend, and yet he still hates you.

Still clings to some fucked up honor code like he’s the epitome of the perfect man. He almost killed you and your babe. The war has changed the smart man you once knew. But also what did you expect? Killing your brother was just as stupid, and yet he still did that.

Aemond glances at you with an unreadable expression before quickly striding away. Leaving the library and never looking back.

“I could have him hanged!” Aegon is the picture of rage as you sip on the tea the maester gave you. Your throat is bruised, and you find it hurts to speak or swallow.

Maester Orlo said to drink this horrid concoction morning, noon, and night and your throat would be better in a few days. Nothing could be done with the bruise on your neck or your sore wrist, but at least you’d be able to talk again without being in pain.

“Nothing good would come of that,” you rasp out. “You’ve bruised me before, too.”

Aegon stops his pacing and walks over to where you sit, placing his goblet on the table and kneeling before you, one hand softly grazing your bruise. You flinch when his fingers touch the sensitive skin and eye him curiously.

“You liked it when I bruised you, I saw it in your eyes. Are you telling me you liked this?” You’ve seen this look before, at the consummation. He looks angry, but also something else. Lips pursed and brows furrowed with that look in his eyes you can’t place. “Do you want him touching you like I have?”

Jealousy, that’s the only thing you can think of. There was a hint of it that first night when he ranted about Aemond getting everything. He breathes heavily as he watches you, hands holding your hips.

“I never said that, Aegon.” You place the teacup onto the table beside you before cupping his cheeks. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes, letting out a content sigh. When he’s not fucking you, all Aegon seems to want is your affection, constantly. It’s a lovely change from being ignored. “You saw how I was that night with him.”

He kisses the palm of your hand before resting his head on your lap, lashes fluttering against his pale cheeks as he contently sighs.

“Mother will set him right tomorrow. She’s the only one he listens to” he murmurs before wrapping his arms around and pulling you closer, nuzzling your stomach. “Aemond better not have hurt my child though, or all will know he’s mine by the way I’ll publicly punish him.”

You warm at his words, a small smile spreading across your face as you card your fingers through his hair. This is all so wrong, but you’re tired of being lonely and Aegon is actually rather sweet to you.

“The babe is fine, my darling.” He practically preens at your words, squeezing you tighter and humming. “I’ve never seen you like this about Jaehaera and Maelor.”

Or Jaehaerys, but you don’t say that. No one mentions him, and you understand why. It’s easier to forget the dead than to constantly remember them, to think of them every day. It eats you up until your only bone and sorrow, no happiness, joy, or even a soul left. Grief can destroy you. It’s easier for you to pretend your mom and brothers are alive. That Baela and Rhaena are back on Dragonstone or Driftmark. It’s just easier to pretend.

“They don’t like me. They won’t talk when I’m around or even look at me, it’s better if I leave them be.”

You pull his face away from your stomach, so he can look into your eyes. Your hands cup his cheeks and your thumb strokes his cheek bone. He smiles and closes his eyes, eating up your affection like a child with cake.

“You are their father, Aegon. Please try with them, if not for me, than for the babe. They deserve your love and attention as much as this baby does. I would like him to have siblings who have a loving relationship with their father.”

He merely nods at your words, his smile turning into a frown as he thinks of all the ways bonding with them may go wrong. He’d try for you though, tomorrow morning he’ll march into the nursery and give it his best shot.

“Okay,” he murmurs, leaning up on his knees and kissing you. It’s delicate and sweet, you find yourself sliding your fingers into his hair and sighing into the kiss. He smiles against your lips and deepens it.

Ever since you’ve started reciprocating his affections, he’s become giddy to see you every day. All thoughts revolve around his nights with you, he finds himself distracted during small council meetings or interactions with anyone. Thoughts plagued with you and only you.

“I love you,” his words slip out without a second to think them over, his lips grazing yours. You feel him tense underneath your hands as you stop raking them through his hair. You're frozen at his confession, having no clue how to feel.

He pulls away from you upon hearing your silence, eyes burning with betrayal and hurt. Aegon looks like a wounded puppy as he stands and walks over to the door. He stops as his hand grazes the knob and storms back over to you without a second thought.

“Do you not love me?!”

You jump at the volume of his voice and quickly stand, trying to shush him as you panic. You both are usually so quiet in case anyone passes by your doors. If they hear him, everything will be over. Unfortunately, your panic only serves to fuel his anger and scowls, tears swelling in his eyes.

“Don’t try to quiet me! Let's tell the whole castle of your trickster ways, letting me into your bed just to use me… What even for?”

“Aegon…” You shake your head as your voice finally finds you. Hesitantly, you take a few small steps in his direction, stopping in front of the broken man. You raise your hands to cup his cheeks, but he flinches away from your touch. Your heart burns at his rejection, your own eyes beginning to tear up.

“We are playing a dangerous game, why can you not see that? You always assure me everything will be fine, and yet we’re both married! With everyone thinking this babe is his, there will be no way to annul our marriage. How can I say those words out loud when I know tragedy lurks around the corner, it edges closer every time we meet.”

“I could kill him.”

You shake your head, the tears now racing down your cheeks. His cheeks are streaked with his own, eyes turning red as he continues to cry.

“You would never, and I would never ask that of you.” Once more you try to touch him and this time he relents. Your fingers delicately wipe away his tears before cupping his cheeks. Aegon leans into your touch as he always does, always starved for any affection. “How can this end with us happy?”

“I have never loved someone as I love you. I love you more than my own family, you’ve shown me a kindness and patience none of them ever have. I…” He presses his forehead against your own, taking a deep breath in as if it's his last one. “I have loved you since we were children, I was denied your hand and forced to marry my sister. I’ll burn everything to the ground to keep this happiness. After all this suffering, I will not lose the sweet taste of your lips against my own.”

His words chill you to the bone. This declaration is enough to start a war, and you can’t figure out if you're terrified or overjoyed. You’ve felt for so long that you are unlovable. That your existence will be one of misery and loneliness, and yet the most unlikely person has stepped up to show you otherwise.

“Just say it… please.” Your heart breaks at the crack in his voice, at the desperation he’s displaying. You can’t help but cry harder as you feel for this man in front of you. Both so desperate for love that it eats you alive.

He must mistake your tears for rejection, and you feel him begin to pull away, physically and mentally. Shaking your head rapidly, you crash your lips onto his to keep him near you, it’s nothing romantic. Teeth clash against teeth and tongues slide against one another.

You pour your nearly broken heart into this kiss, trying to show him how much you need him to stay. How you’ll finally break if he leaves. All the cracks within your beating heart have been glued by him, you find if you're alone again everything will fall apart. It’s only when you feel yourself grow lightheaded do you pull away to try to breathe. You're both gasping for air as you press your foreheads together, noses bumping one another and lips nearly touching.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Aegon pulls you back into a kiss, gripping your waist to try to pull you closer. Your bodies practically meld into one as his arms wrap around you to keep you close. Your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him back, moaning into the kiss. It’s desperate and hungry, begging for everything you have. You give it to him without second thought, your mouth opening as you moan. His tongue slips inside without a second to spare.

Your knees hit the back of your bed, and he pushes you against it, falling onto the cushiony mattress with you, lips never leaving yours. Your hands pull at the ends of his curly hair, invoking a moan from deep within his chest as he pulls away from your lips. His hands slide to the bottom of your nightgown which has bunched around your waist and pulls it off of you. Your hands find his shirt and help him pull it off before he’s momentarily pulling away to take his pants off.

You find those few seconds without his touch unbearable and reach towards him while whining. He smirks at you, eyes lidded before climbing back between your legs, leaning down to press kisses up your thighs. You impatiently groan and try to tug him back up your body, thighs trying to rub together for any chance of friction. By now he’s fucked you enough to have you used to the feel of his cock within you, and you want it now.

“I can’t possibly fuck you yet, I haven’t even tasted you.”

You keen at his words and watch as he teasingly licks a slow strip through your folds, making you groan as you both maintain eye contact. He continues doing that for a few moments before kitten licking your bud. You feel one of his fingers pressing at your entrance before slowly sliding inside of you, he quickly adds a second one after a few slow thrusts and watches you impatiently grind your hips against his tongue and fingers.

The feel of him chuckling against you only makes you more aroused. Aegon stops his teasing and latches onto your bud, sucking the sensitive bundle before adding a third finger and making a come hither motion inside of you. Your head rolls back at his motions, and soon your moans fill the bedchambers, overtaking the crackling of fire and the sound of your wetness. Your hands delve back into his hair, and you tug on the stands as you continue to grind against him while whining.

“C-Close… So close.” Your words only spur him on, his other hand goes to press against your hips to keep you still as he speeds up, rapidly hitting your sensitive spot inside. You find yourself at a loss for words as you arch your back and squeeze your eyes shut, coming against his fingers and tongue. He continues through your orgasm and only stops after you’ve calmed down.

Aegon pulls his fingers out of you and moves up to your face, pressing his fingers against your lips. You greedily accept his offer and moan around his long digits as you taste yourself. He groans at the sight and quickly pulls them away from you, so he lined himself up with your entrance.

Your mouth falls open in a breathy moan as he slowly thrusts inside you, his eyes briefly closing as he moans at the feeling of you squeezing around him. You always take him so well, and he can’t help but feel that you were made for him.

“Say it again” his voice is raspy as he makes his demands, keeping still inside you as his eyes meet your own. You look so pretty beneath him, eyes half lidded and pupils blown. Lips bruised from his kisses and cheeks flushed. He decides he wants a commission of you like this, but also doesn’t want anyone else to see you the way he does.

“I-I love you,” you moan. Your hands cup his cheeks and pull him down for a bruising kissing. Aegon begins to fuck you at a brutal pace that you're loudly moaning within his mouth. His thrusts are hard and fast, and he’s hitting that sensitive spot inside you that makes your toes curl. Your tongues messily slide against one another as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer.

If someone were to talk in right now, they wouldn’t have a clue as to where you begin, and he ends. You're consumed by him, completely and irrevocably. His scent fills you and his kisses leave you thoughtless. His own thrusts make you obsessed with him, and you find that you never want this to end.

One of his hands slides down and begins to circle your nub. He barely pulls away from your lips to watch as you groan. He can feel how close you are by the way your walls convulse around him, and he finds himself close as well. You move your hips in time with his thrusts as your nails claw his back, turning him on further.

“Fuck!” You cry out as you come around his cock, back arching and legs shaking, eyes squeezed shut. Aegon thrusts a few times as he tries to fuck you through your orgasm once before his hips stutter, and he spills inside you. His head nestles into the crook of your neck as he moans, cock twitching inside of you.

You both stay like that, wrapped around one another, while you catch your breath. He begins to pepper kisses down your neck, making sure to avoid the hand shaped bruise around your neck. You blissfully sigh as you feel sleepiness begin to overcome you.

“I will find a way to make us have a happy ending.” His words do little to calm the anxiety that's always lurking in the pit of your stomach. But you nod anyway and pull him away from your neck to peck his lips. He smiles into it and wraps his arms around you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And you really do, which you find terrifies you. Love has no place in the dangerous game you both play, and yet it’s blossomed between the cracks and made itself at home inside the both of you. It’s shocking to know that this is the man who makes you feel safe and happy. Who brings a smile to your face and makes you think the future doesn’t look so bad.

But you also don’t believe in fairy tales, and you find yourself far too jaded to believe his words. You only hope this ends with you all alive and not another mindless war. You’d rather end yourself then deal with another one. But you won’t tell him any of that, it’ll only hurt him, and you don’t wish to do that. So instead, you brush your fingers through his hair and listen to his soft breathing. You stay like that until eventually sleep takes you too.

[aiweirdness]

I used GPT-3 to come up with some novelty sock concepts.

GPT-3 Ada (2020):

“Cruxx” Slurpees with a fish in an orange “Fängche” with french fries on top of a pocket-full of ice cream A shirt made out of a jello stick – it looks like a hamburger, but it’s not. “A halved grapefruit!” with lollipops Some kind of replica of The Lord of the Rings party balloon, with rainbow balls, pink hoses, and blood in tributes to the Great Hair String of Friendship Over a million memory sticks made from stars “Shocking in the head!” more brightly colored balloons

In my original prompt format I used quotes for text that was actually written on the sock, which means that Ada's lollipops sock has the words "a halved grapefruit" written on it. And the jello stick hamburger item is not a shirt, but a sock with a picture of the shirt on it. Unless Ada has completely lost the plot and is not even generating socks anymore, which frankly is likely.

Babbage is the next-largest GPT-3 model from 2020, and it is doing better at being socks, although many of its socks seem very tricky to illustrate.

GPT-3 Babbage (2020):

Robots posing with some butter “Ink!” cats with pink blotches Violins and Prawns “Santa it is” with polar bears and elves in a sleigh “Dreamy ghosts” ghosts with binoculars “Rainbow Rap!” hot air balloons and boing! boing! A twin-headed dragon jumps through a trap door A potato upside down with superpowers A day going on but no moon just like a horror movie Slightly more coherent are the socks from the next-largest GPT-3 model, Curie.

GPT-3 Curie (2020)

The Statue of Liberty with a 3-sided pancake. Orca whale jumping through a ring of socks. Octopus holding lemons “Turtle is Delighted” turtle with a backpack A stampede with bulls and zebras Pumpkin patch with cutouts of squirrels having a picnic “Make a toast to the kachunkers” with a bear holding a glass of tomato juice Grinning neutrinos with dirty fingers “As above, so below” with cats on the moon A lion eating a Space Shuttle Hamsters skating down a rainbow

GPT-3 DaVinci (2020):

Massive group of goats wearing party hats Unicorn riding a rainbow Flying hedgehog Robotic bulldog Ninjas and kittens “Lmao!” a flatulent dog with a mustache Googly eyed donuts wrapped in bacon A set of eyes wearing suspenders and monocle “Come on in! The water’s liquid!” – grumpy cat in red bathing suit “I can Haz!” a sitting Trojan Horse “Bark like doggone it!” dancing dogs on black background

Note that as the models get bigger, GPT-3's socks start becoming more conventionally "trendy", like a lolrandom site from 10 years ago. Technically that's what it's going for - it's trained to reproduce the websites from its training data.

More at AI Weirdness

[boygirl-wizard]

what if you replaced all the meat and bones in a person with water, what then, would it fill them up like the videos when they put the toys on the end of hoses and they get real big and jiggly would it be like a big fat skin balloon on the grass how much would it take to pop it skin is pretty thick how thin can it stretch. what if i put a human in a hydraulic press what then. would the police come, would i go to jail what if it was my human flesh. what if the person was already dead what if it was morally sourced. we often think of bones as very dry but they are allways wet inside your flesh what if you took out your bones and juiced them what would that taste like i imagine like chicken juices but im not sure human and chicken are the same type of meat. did you know humans can see more shades of green then any other colour because we need to see the leaves, you can eat most leaves you see on the street i wouldnt recomend it they probably taste bad lemons are a great fruit they taste good and are a nice colour. berry compot is a good and easy dish to make its just berries and put them in a pan then maybe some lemon juice maybe sugar maybe not then you just cook that down and its so good imagine some nice pancakes with icecream and maple syrup and a nice berry compot. raspberries are my favourite berry imagine raspberry and lemon sorbet they are my favorite berry because they are nice and balanced and

meepkorpjjjjjjjjjjjjballs

they have balanced with sweet and sour they are a nice colour however they are expensive strawberries are not as expensive however they ar enot as good particularly frozen as they are too big grapes are good but only green grapes when they are crunchy and crisp they are like eyeballs but eyeballs are tough and chewy grapefruit is quite bitter mangos are the best fruit they are versitile and freeze well they last a while and you can put them in many dishes the taste and texture is sublime you can suck on the seed when you are done and it is good for everyone blood can be substituted for eggs in baking at a ratio of 1/4 cup blood to one egg it has to be cooked thoroughlly to prevent spread of bacteria cucumber is my favorite vegtable because it is crunchy and green it is not soft or soggy it is savoury watermellon

can you get novelty 9/11 things like things off the areoplane do you ever think about atoms everything is very small like unimaginabbly small we are a meer speck in the pond of time oneday teh world will blow up and all of this will be for nothing and maybe im okay with that colours are wild i am jelious of mantis shrimp my head is filled with worms i want to decay and become one with the dirt i am, at heart a bug i am a creature, an insect, and oneday i will decay back into the insects and worms from creatures i have come and to creatures i will return not spiders though snakes have four seperate jaw bones so they can basically dislocate their jaws and eat their prey whoever invented numbers did a good job with 8 really looks like how its pronounced everyone should be happy all the time i want to live in a big tree i want to be a tree greens and browns filled with my own special blood and creatures i want to feel the wind in my brittle body and be inherantly connected to everything alone we are nothing but together we are everything unions are the best sign of a good society they are th ebackbones of workplaces i want to live in a pond with the slime it would fix me.

the early internet ewas so fun i want to chew on cables in 2005

[writer-is-depressed]

I want to lay on your table

I want to be laying up so you have to look into my eyes

I want to be there quietly and sincerely, never making a sound

Then I want you to pick up your carving knife

Maybe a fork if you would be so kind

Then I want you to cut into my chest and hold me down

I wont struggle, Im too tired

I won't ask you to stop, I wanted this

I won't howl in pain as you, careful always around my heart, break my ribcage wide open

As I hear the bones crunching and the blood pouring

I wanted this

I cant wait till your hands fit inside

Im so sorry you have to dirty them

I need you to place them inside and take it out

I wont move while I hear the pounding for once outside my chest

I wont cry thats a lie

My tears were already spent too many times

I will wait patiently, like always, while you take it out and hold it up

Like a warm, beating grapefruit I cant wait for you to take a bite

For the flavour to explode in your mouth

For the juice blood, my blood to drip down your chin, your beautiful chin

Finally, Im part of something beautiful

"I wanted this" I think

While you devour me whole

"I needed this" I know

While I become a part of you

A part, a small one, I could never compare to you

I could never make you change

Meanwhile Im alive, because here you are

I wanted this

Youre done chewing

Theres juice all over and you lick it clean

Your tongue holds more me in it than I

What is "I" anymore anyway

Youre done chewing and you swallow me whole

Finally

I go down and everywhere I go I touch, I stick, small parts

I will be here forever

You cant take me out

Im a heart made of metal and youre esophagus is a magnet and I will stay here till you die

Even then, I'll be there, thankful

I wanted this

[josephnewbrown]

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[hypnomicimagines]

In Another Life [Jinguji Jakurai]

You don’t know what you did to end up on the receiving end of a knife.

You had been peacefully slumbering, your parents in the next room over having finally quieted down after an extended fight that you hoped would lead to a divorce. It was a bit dark to think such things but you were a teenager now, you were beginning to understand adult issues and you could tell that there was something hovering over them causing these outbursts. Perhaps separating wouldn’t be in their best interest but you were simply tired of the yelling, of the constant negativity, of the inability to exist in your own house without having to be stressed about when the next fight was coming.

You fell asleep thinking about them but your dreams had been far more pleasant, a technicolor daydream of another life, one where you were unapologetically happy.

And then you woke up to a knife to your throat.

Your eyes met your attackers briefly, a chill coursing through your veins at that complete lack of emotion in them. You were used to being surrounded by anger and hatred, but there was something foreign about this look. It’s like his eyes (you thought it was a man, a boy, but it was rather dark) were devoid of any emotion, telling you ‘this isn’t personal’; luckily you were feeling enough emotions for both of you but remained too afraid to move, frozen in place as you lock eyes with your attacker.

What were you feeling now? Acceptance? You wished you could say goodbye to your parents. Would this mystery man at least let you do that? There are a thousand thoughts running through your head but you notice as time ticks on that he’s unmoving, that he can’t seem to tear his eyes off of you. You almost want to ask if he’s okay despite how nonsensical it would be to do so flinching when he finally moved. The knife is no longer pressed to your throat and as he’s pulling away, a sliver of moonlight drifting in through your window reveals that his hands are shaking.

Was he as scared as you were?

Was he feeling regret?

You don’t get an answer, your vision blurring before you’re left alone in your room once more. You almost think that he was simply a hallucination before you feel something wet sliding down your neck, fingers coming up to curiously feel around the area, stained red with your blood. You sat up from your bed and ripped the covers off, running screaming down the hall for your mother as you suddenly realized something bad had almost happened. The rest of the night is filled with your screams, your tears, life as you knew it ending.

You didn’t think much of it now that you were an adult.

You had a fulfilling career, owning a club of your own in Shinjuku where you often hosted costume nights and other little celebrations to give people a respite from their boring day jobs. You loved greeting all types of customers, making long-lasting friendships that might benefit you in the long-run, working until the wee hours of the morning when you finally dragged yourself home (though there was a backroom at the club that you sometimes made a temporary place of rest as you got too exhausted to walk back to your apartment). Your life had been on a steady track for such a long time you didn’t think anything else could possibly upset it, after all, what could be more senselessly tragic then finding the dead bodies of your own parents?

You had run into their room that night and thankfully, the carnage had been mostly hidden by the dark but the scent of copper hitting your nose made you realize quickly what had happened. Had that same person who ominously loomed over you killed your parents first? Or had it simply been a job done by multiple people at once? You didn’t want to think too deeply about it, for the sake of your sanity you knew you couldn’t play detective, but for many people it left a pressing question in the back of their minds.

Why did it happen? Why were you left alive?

All you knew was that you were alive. You had lived through that night, being shown some odd sliver of mercy from that dark, emotionless figure, and you weren’t going to squander what you had been given. You would live your life, unquestioning, mourning your parents but doing your best to live a life that would make them proud.

You met him one cold December night, walking down the street with an unfortunate number of shopping backs in your arms. They weren’t difficult or too heavy for you to hold but you were looking forward to being home, hoping that you’d get there soon so you could decorate your home with the new decorations you’d had. You were deep in thought when you’re suddenly bumped into by a gaggle of squealing women, eyebrow raised as you hear them speaking of some type of rap battle going on. You had been curious about the upcoming DRB, of course everyone and their mother had been talking about Matenro in Shinjuku, but you found yourself too busy to look too far into it.

But there they were.

The blonde was the number one host in Shinjuku, you’d passed the billboards countless times, and the other one was the most exhausted looking office worker you had ever seen. At first their leader, the one with long flowing hair adorned in a doctor’s coat, had his faced turned in the opposite direction, politely greeting some fans that had the courage to approach them. His mannerisms made him seem polite enough but those women were swooning, leaving you curious as to what he looked like. He had to be a bombshell, right? No one acts like that for some average joe.

And then he turns toward you, his eyes drifting through the crowd until they meet yours.

You’d recognize those eyes anywhere.

They’re different for sure, they’re no longer blank but filled with an emotion that you’re not aware of. You are, however, aware of how hard this man is staring at you now and as confident as you are in your looks, you’re pretty sure he’s recognized you as well. For a second you have to wonder if this is the end of the line, if this man is about to actually take you out since you know some rather scandalous information about him, but then again how could you ever prove it? It takes all the will power in your body to tear your eyes away from him, pushing back into the crowd that had slowly started to form around Matenro until you’d managed to sneak into an alley.

Your night continues unimpeded, thankfully no man is standing by your bedside when you wake up the following afternoon; you’re almost a little disappointed as he looked far more beautiful after all these years, you certainly wouldn’t have minded getting a house call from him. The trauma you had gone through was really rearing its ugly head with your sense of humor but it was amusing in the end to see that your potential assassin had turned his life around into not only becoming a doctor, but also a famous rapper. You almost wished you had approached him just to see what he would say, what he would do, but that plan had officially been canceled as you suspected you wouldn’t see the man again for a very long time.

That night was when he came for his first visit to your club.  

You spot him sitting at the bar and he’s rather hard to miss, not to mention he’s so recognizable that you’d have to be blind not to realize who he was. Doing a quick internet search helped you refresh your memory on his name, Jinguji Jakurai, and there were quite a few articles about what a skilled doctor he had turned out to be (as well as his past experience being in a famous rap group which was often compared to the group he was part of now). Did his teammates know who he was? Did they know what he did? Or were they just as blissfully unaware?

“Did you come back to finish the job?”

You shoo away the bartender before speaking with Jakurai, knowing this is a conversation you’d like to deal with one on one. The club wasn’t technically open yet but he must’ve talked his way inside by flashing a handsome smile; you could only imagine all the things that smile of his could get him. You don’t get to see it as he doesn’t find your joke nearly as funny as you do, almost flinching as you bring up a past he likely wants to forget about. You have to deal with the reality of that past though and so does he, regardless of how you both personally feel about it. But you’re curious as to what this visit is about, ready to call for security at any given moment should things go south.

Jakurai takes a few moments to respond, taking a sip from his grapefruit juice (you noticed the lack of alcohol in his drink right away) before he responds.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” His hands remain wrapped around his glass, Jakurai casting a contemplative glass at its contents.

“That’s fair enough because I can say the exact same thing. But… Why are you here, exactly? Did you want a thank you for not killing me? Because like thanks and all, but you still got my parents so we’re not exactly even in my book.” Another wince of pain, but he takes your shot with grace, nodding his head as you continued on. “I’m glad to see life’s been treating you so well, Doc, but mines been a mess. So what is it that you want?”

“To apologize,” Jakurai stated firmly, eyes coming to meet yours. “For all the pain that I have caused you.”

“Your apology isn’t accepted.” He’s not at all surprised which sort of pisses you off, of course this assassin rapper man has it more together than you. There are long buried emotions beginning to bubble to the surface and you consider grabbing his glass to dump the contents all over him, Jakurai removing his hands from it as though he had read your mind. But as quickly as the anger bubbled up it simmered down, your heart still hammering in your chest as you tried to regain control of your emotions. “Can you at least tell me why? Did you… Were you the one who did it?”

“…I didn’t. I don’t believe that would make you feel any better about what happened but I… You were the first person who made me truly believe that I could no longer live the life I was living.” Jakurai’s voice softened, “You were like a light in the darkness, too bright to look at yet I couldn’t bring myself to look away. I wanted to thank you as well for all that you’ve done for me but it didn’t seem right to do it in the same breath.”

“You… I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to think of this. You’re thanking me? You didn’t kill my parents but you were definitely about to kill me but you… stopped because I was some light to you? Some person who made you realize killing other people was wrong? You know how that sounds, right?”

“There’s a lot in my life I wish to atone for.” Jakurai flashed that handsome smile that had gotten him into your club early, “I don’t expect your forgiveness but it wouldn’t feel right to be reunited with you without expressing my regrets.”

He stood from the bar and placed money on the counter, straightening himself out and brushing his hair from his shoulder as he prepared to leave. It felt wrong to leave it there, to allow him to exit your life once again as quickly as he had entered it, especially when you felt you were still owed something. You reached across the bar to grab at his sleeve, tugging on it and watching as Jakurai turned around with a surprised expression on his face.

“Just.. come perform here or somethin’, okay? Get me some business and maybe I’ll start to think about forgiving you. Maybe.”

Jakurai smiled but this time it was more amused in nature, as if he didn’t expect something like that from you.

“As you wish.”

And your wishes were fulfilled.

You met Hifumi and Doppo through Jakurai, listening to them both speak highly of their leader and all that he had done for them. For all intents and purposes, it seemed he truly had turned over a new leaf, as far as they knew anyway. He hadn’t really given you any reason to doubt his change in character, even now when you look into his eyes you could tell something had changed within him, and Jakurai did uphold his promise to have Matenro perform. He even came back whenever the three of them weren’t busy, increasing publicity for the club further as now it was assumed you were good friends of the three rappers instead of just a one-off gig.

You could say that was very close to what was happening.

You were fond of Hifumi and Doppo, you always threw free drinks at poor Doppo who came in to complain about his boss and laughed at all of Hifumi’s stories that were at Doppo’s expense. Chatting with them had been much too fun for you to cut it short so you spent your nights at the club with them at their VIP table, Jakurai quietly watching the interactions between the three of you with a content expression on his face. You didn’t know how happy it made him to see the three important people in his life getting along well, you probably hadn’t even guessed how important you truly were to him just yet.

“I still see you as that light,” Jakurai confessed one night after the club had closed, not a hint of shame on his face, “However, now that I’ve gotten to know you… You’ve become so much more to me. It feels out of line to say such things after all I’ve done…”

“Yeah, it sure does.” You feel a little awkward now because you felt the exact same way, completely fascinated by this man, enamored with him like a lot of the women in his life seemed to be. Yet you were the one who got to be close to him like this, who got to sit face-to-face alone with him while he wasn’t on the job, and that had to count for something. “But you… You mean a lot more to me now, too.”

This is the first time you’ve ever seen a look of genuine surprise on his face but you quite liked the way his eyes raised and the corner of his mouth twitched, not sure if he should smile or frown at your statement. He let out a sigh but he it was out of relief more than anything, knowing he didn’t deserve even that out of you after what he had done. To find love with the one target he couldn’t kill… How many sleepless nights had he spent thinking of you, worrying over what might have become of you?

“This is like, kinda fucked up, you know? Like what type of weird way to meet is ‘I almost killed you but realized I couldn’t and now we’re in love’? Like seriously, there’s gotta be like ten trashy, poorly written romance novels about-“

You continued to ramble on nervously, knowing this hardly made sense but at the same time who cared? This was your life after all, and if you wanted a pretty doctor to kiss you to make you feel better, then you would get it! Past be damned, you were going to take this God given gift of a man and use him for all he was worth.

Jakurai’s fingers gently touch your face, running along your jaw towards the small scar, the scar he had made, before he suddenly shied away. But you don’t want him to leave, you crave his touch now, putting his hand right back where it was and looking up at him with pure determination. There were heavy sins weighing him down, resting on his shoulders, but he had only been a child himself, something that made forgiving him a little easier to swallow. You believed him when he said he hadn’t been the one to kill your parents and you believed him when he said he was remorseful for the lasting impact he had on your life.

“Jakurai, I’ve come up with a way to forgive you.”

“Is that right?” Jakurai’s smiling his beautiful ethereal smile that always causes your heart to skip a beat, “How might I be of service?”

“Kiss me.”

“I have a lifetime of mistakes to make up for,” Jakurai whispered against your lips, hands cradling your face in a loving manner, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You say that yet…” You reached over to run your fingers through his silky hair, twirling a strand of it around your finger, “I can’t account for your other mistakes but that doesn’t matter to me now. You’ve changed for the better, you save lives every day, so as long as you keep doing that… I think that I… I forgive you, Jakurai. So please, accept my heart and protect it.”

Those words he never thought he would hear finally reach his ears and he’s so filled with joy he could hardly contain himself, brief tears gathering at the corner of his eyes before he leans in to press his lips against yours. You want to pull away, to tease that he had only kissed you now because he was trying to hide the overflowing emotions he was currently dealing with, but it felt far too good to leave Jakurai’s embrace now.

If you could help it, you’d never have to live without his embrace again.

[dopepoisonivyoncrack]

HCs that can be extracted from the simple fact that Askin is a milk coffee drinker, and that are well linked with his power:

Askin has a very large number of taste buds. Humans have between 2000 - 8000 taste buds, and their taste perception, or intensity, differs depending on that number, especially when it comes to bitterness or acidity. E.g. people with fewer taste buds naturally prefer “louder” tastes, like black coffee, strong wines (Cabernet, Merlot, Shiraz/Syrah), tolerate better bitterness, astringency and spiciness. Basically they need a taste-punch to stimulate their sense enough; while people with more taste buds are more sensitive, and prefer gentler tastes, like milk coffee (milk attenuates the bitterness), milder wines (Pinot Noir, Rosé, Sauvignon Blanc). People with 8000 taste buds have a hypersensitive palate and are considered super tasters, and is the category I think Askin falls into. [ref]

Askin has the propylthiouracil (PROP) receptor - a genetically predisposed receptor for bitterness. People with this receptor are more sensitive to bitterness, so they usually dislike the taste, and avoid for e.g. brussel sprouts, alcohol, black coffee, black tea. [ref]

Askin doesn’t like drinking alcohol. Having the PROP receptor, he finds alcohol to taste bitter, so he tends to avoid it or drink less. Maybe he drinks sweet cocktails (alcohol mixed with other, sweeter, flavours that make the bitterness more bearable). Also, for the same reason, he may hate brussel sprouts, chicory, endives, and ruccola and doesn’t like red wines, grapefruit juice, and beer. May manage some red wines with fatty foods, but if drinking wine, he prefers white ones.

Askin has caffeine receptors and maybe less quinine receptors. Like the PROP receptor, they give a stronger sensation of bitter tastes, and connect to how the person tastes coffee and tea. People with higher sensitivity to bitterness, and to caffeine, are associated with an increased consumption of coffee (4 or more cups a day) and less consumption of tea - Askin’s case. Those with PROP and higher sensitivity to quinine are big tea drinkers (which may be an Aizen HC). [ref]

The bitterness sensitivity relates to the receptors for tannins, and these receptors are genetically determined (according to the above linked study, like 70% of europeans and asians have it, while 30% don’t), which also fits my HC for Askin being a mix of Middle East and European origins. The presence of tannins, to those who can taste them, can become overwhelming, obscuring other aromas that are so obvious to those that can’t sense the tannins. Of course, there is a gradient, possibly given by the number of these receptors, and it’s not a black or white situation. Also tolerance to some tastes can be changed by repeated exposure, and even mental perception. I like this post that succinctly treats wine preferences.

How could this influence Askin? Well, the bitterness receptors could explain his affinity for milk coffee. The rest I think suits his power of manipulating the lethal dose of any substance he ingests, and is worthy of someone called “God’s Taster”. I think, in a way, he benefits from having a sensitive palate, being perceptive of even very small doses of certain substances that he can then manipulate. On the other way, thinking about how he may sometimes ingest gross things like blood, being this sensitive can become unpleasant. Nothing he can’t overcome with repeated exposure and changing the mental perception of it, though, which I think is exactly how he does it. He might also like to eat and drink things that he likes (even on the battlefield, as we saw him), to make up for having to ingest not so tasty things. Like when you treat yourself to a snack after doing a task you didn’t like but had to.

Bonus AU: Askin as a world known culinary critic, that served in his career as a Michelin inspector. He really has all it takes for a fantastic culinary critic, from the broad & sensitive palate to a gift for words.

[kfireforall]

Kundalini Awakening Diet and Lifestyle

- For those who have it flowing in themselves already -

by Chrism

Yes organic foods as much as is possible. No caffeine. No high fructose corn syrups. No really hot spices. No cigarettes. Alcohol is also best to surrender. If you can grow some of your food even better. Coconut milk and or water is helpful for the vitamin combination and well as the electrolytes. As is watermelon. It is individual for everyone as well. Follow what your Kundalini guides you to have. If you are to eat meat try to get wild game if you can or at least organic meats. Eat the meat even if you have been vegetarian for many years. Kundalini uses it to transform the body. Do not resist this. Same with the plants if you mainly eat meat. Always thank the plants and animals that give of themselves for your benefit. Lifestyle is to become all of the noble qualities as much of your conscious time as you can become. Loving, forgiving, tolerant, gracious, patient, trustful and trustworthy, diligent, joyful, compassionate, disciplined, considerate and kind, strong and courageous, fearless, discerning, intelligent, non egotistical, honest and truthful among others. This relates to why a person is even given the gift of grace. Become that healer, that saint in the populations. Give of your love and your care for others especially strangers. Let yourself feel the Kundalini as it brings itself to and through you every second of your life as it is the Kundalini that is taking you into the next levels of the human divine. Nothing else can really matter but your bond with God in this sense. This is what I do as well. Become that person that is the new expression of humanity on this planet. Let the Kundalini come into you in stronger and stronger waves of grace. Go out of your way to encourage its greater presence within you "as much as you can." Take the Shaktipat. Come to a seminar. Meet other awakened people and begin, in a greater way, to merge into the divine channel that is opening itself within you. - blessings and grace to you all!

--------------------------------------------

RAW FOOD AND KUNDALINI / FRUIT Pre Kundalini go with what you feel is best for you in this regard. Teach your ego consciousness to feel and discern that which your higher consciousness is communicating via the intuitive processes. When Kundalini comes your surrender to her in this way will be complete and that which is given to you from the Kundalini will dictate what is and what isnt consumed. In regards to preparing the way through nutrition. Balance is best and with respect to how others view the Kundalini, I feel it is best to have balance in what is consumed. Root vegetables and yes melon for the kidneys and adrenals but not just any melon "Watermelon" is the one that I will recommend. Meats are not forbidden in my offerings of Kundalini preparation. Meat is always an option and the Kundalini itself will give this option to some and then retract it the very next week or in a similar time period. Vegetarianism is also given and this must also be adhered to or avoided as is determined by the actual Kundalini within a person. Before hand it is also a good and viable preparatory choice. Follow the personal intuition. Celibacy is a personal choice. Kundalini in the activated or awakened state once again will take control of these expressions. But for the inculcation of an awakening or activation sexual conduct is not prohibited. The love of a person for another must be part of the equation. - blessings -chrism 

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Are You Eating Enough Alkaline Foods to Maintain Vital Health?

This chart provides information that shows the contribution of various food

substances to the acidifying of body fluids, and ultimately, to the urine,

saliva, and blood. In general, it is important to eat a diet that contains foods

from both sides of the chart.

Allergic reactions and other forms of stress tend to produce acids in the body.

The presence of high acidity indicates that more of your foods should be

selected from the alkalizing group.

You may find it useful to check your pH using our Personal pH Test Kit in order

to find out if your selection is providing the desired balance.

People vary, but for most, the ideal diet is 75 percent alkalizing and 25 percent acidifying foods by volume.

ALKALIZING FOODS VEGETABLES

Garlic

Asparagus

Fermented Veggies

Watercress

Beets

Broccoli

Brussel sprouts

Cabbage

Carrot

Cauliflower

Celery

Chard

Chlorella

Collard Greens

Cucumber

Eggplant

Kale

Kohlrabi

Lettuce

Mushrooms

Mustard Greens

Dulce

Dandelions

Edible Flowers

Onions

Parsnips (high glycemic)

Peas

Peppers

Pumpkin

Rutabaga

Sea Veggies

Spirulina

Sprouts

Squashes

Alfalfa

Barley Grass

Wheat Grass

Wild Greens

Nightshade Veggies

FRUITS

Apple

Apricot

Avocado

Banana (high glycemic)

Cantaloupe

Cherries

Currants

Dates/Figs

Grapes

Grapefruit

Lime

Honeydew Melon

Nectarine

Orange

Lemon

Peach

Pear

Pineapple

All Berries

Tangerine

Tomato

Tropical Fruits

Watermelon

PROTEIN

Eggs

Whey Protein Powder

Cottage Cheese

Chicken Breast

Yogurt

Almonds

Chestnuts

Tofu (fermented)

Flax Seeds

Pumpkin Seeds

Tempeh (fermented)

Squash Seeds

Sunflower Seeds

Millet

Sprouted Seeds

Nuts

OTHER

Apple Cider Vinegar

Bee Pollen

Lecithin Granules

Probiotic Cultures

Green Juices

Veggies Juices

Fresh Fruit Juice

Organic Milk

(unpasteurized)

Mineral Water

Alkaline Antioxidant Water

Green Tea

Herbal Tea

Dandelion Tea

Ginseng Tea

Banchi Tea

Kombucha

SWEETENERS

Stevia

SPICES/SEASONINGS

Cinnamon

Curry

Ginger

Mustard

Chili Pepper

Sea Salt

Miso

Tamari

All Herbs

ORIENTAL VEGETABLES

Maitake

Daikon

Dandelion Root

Shitake

Kombu

Reishi

Nori

Umeboshi

Wakame

Sea Veggies

ACIDIFYING FOODS FATS & OILS

Avocado Oil

Canola Oil

Corn Oil

Hemp Seed Oil

Flax Oil

Lard

Olive Oil

Safflower Oil

Sesame Oil

Sunflower Oil

FRUITS

Cranberries

GRAINS

Rice Cakes

Wheat Cakes

Amaranth

Barley

Buckwheat

Corn

Oats (rolled)

Quinoa

Rice (all)

Rye

Spelt

Kamut

Wheat

Hemp Seed Flour

DAIRY

Cheese, Cow

Cheese, Goat

Cheese, Processed

Cheese, Sheep

Milk

Butter

NUTS & BUTTERS

Cashews

Brazil Nuts

Peanuts

Peanut Butter

Pecans

Tahini

Walnuts

ANIMAL PROTEIN

Beef

Carp

Clams

Fish

Lamb

Lobster

Mussels

Oyster

Pork

Rabbit

Salmon

Shrimp

Scallops

Tuna

Turkey

Venison

PASTA (WHITE)

Noodles

Macaroni

Spaghetti

OTHER

Distilled Vinegar

Wheat Germ

Potatoes

DRUGS & CHEMICALS

Chemicals

Drugs, Medicinal

Drugs, Psychedelic

Pesticides

Herbicides

ALCOHOL

Beer

Spirits

Hard Liquor

Wine

BEANS & LEGUMES

Black Beans

Chick Peas

Green Peas

Kidney Beans

Lentils

Lima Beans

Pinto Beans

Red Beans

Soy Beans

Soy Milk

White Beans

Rice Milk

Almond Milk

-chrism

Facebook: facebook.com/groups Visit: kundalinisafeties.com kundaliniawakeningsystems1.com

[tvandenneagram]

Twin Peaks: Dale Cooper - Type 1w9

Dale is principled, serious and reserved. While he is a bit of an odd duck, with many quirky mannerisms, he is also a true professional. 

At his best, Dale is ethical, honest and hardworking in all aspects of his life. He has a genuine purpose in life and strives to achieve justice as a FBI agent. Dale is accepting and grows more emotionally open. He takes a liking to the town of Twin Peaks and chooses to stay there after solving Laura’s murder. 

At his worst, Dale can become closed off and withdrawn, avoiding his emotions. We see this throughout the series as he is afraid to open up and build relationships with others. He also became rigid in his routines and stubborn about his ideas.  

Dale takes his job at the FBI very seriously and does not want to break any rules. He generally makes sure to follow the correct protocols and is uncomfortable when he has to break these rules. For example, when Audrey is kidnapped and he has to break the law to save her he is uncomfortable. When he meets Audrey, he is drawn to her but does not act on it as it is wrong.

Dale is hard on himself for his past mistakes and will punish himself internally for them. For example, prior to the series he had an affair with his partner’s wife, who they were supposed to be protecting under witness protection. Eventually this affair resulted in her death and Dale blamed himself. As a result, Dale vowed to not emotionally involve himself with people relating to his cases and became much more closed off. 

Dale is very detail oriented and meticulous. He notes down every detail of his day and records messages to Diane detailing everything that happens to him. Dale is able to notice small details which would not normally stick out to others. For example, he sees a reflection of a motorcycle in the last video of Laura which leads him to James. Likewise, Dale is very particular about the way he likes things to be done (e.g. he is very specific about his food preferences).

Dale will often follow his gut instincts and hunches when working a case. He puts a lot of stock into the dreams he has and will rely on his intuition. We see Dale will quickly form conclusions based on what seems like little evidence to outsiders. For example, despite all the concrete evidence pointing towards Ben Horne as Laura’s killer, his gut tells him that he wasn’t the one who did it and he pushes for him to be released from custody.

Dale shows his 9 wing as he is emotionally cooler and less likely to show his anger than a wing 2. He comes across as more reserved and aloof than a wing 2. Dale is very idealistic and is more focused on the big picture than a wing 2 would be (1w9s are often called the idealist).

Tri-type: 1w9 - 5w4 - 2w1

Some quotes to describe Dale's motivations:

“What I want and what I need are two different things, Audrey.”

“A little habit can provide a strong foundation.”

“You know, this is — excuse me — a damn fine cup of coffee! … Now, I'd like two eggs, over hard. I know, don't tell me; it's hard on the arteries, but old habits die hard — just about as hard as I want those eggs. Bacon, super-crispy. Almost burned. Cremated. That's great. And, I'll have the grapefruit juice, just as long as those grapefruits … are freshly squeezed.”

“Diane, my recorder is on the table. I’m unable to reach it at this time. I can only hope that I inadvertently pressed the voice activation button. I’m lying on the floor of my room. I’ve been shot. There’s a great deal of pain and a fair amount of blood. Fortunately I was wearing my bulletproof vest last night per bureau regulations when working undercover.” 

“Our job is simple: break the code, solve the crime.”

“The time has come for you to seek the Path. Your soul has set you face to face before the clear light ... and now you are about to experience it in its Reality, wherein all things are like the void and cloudless sky, and the naked, spotless intellect is like a transparent vacuum, without circumference or center... At this moment, know yourself and abide in that state.”

Leland: "Do you play golf?" Dale: "Yes, I enjoy its precision"

Dale: “Secrets are dangerous things Audrey.” Audrey: “Do you have any?” Dale: No. Audrey: “Laura had a lot of secrets.”  Dale: “Finding those out is my job.”

Dale: “You're a fine man, Bushnell Mullins. I will not soon forget your kindness and decency.” Bushnell: “What about the FBI?” Dale: I am the FBI.

Dale: “Harry, we're in trouble. If the door to the Black Lodge does exist, it probably exists at a point in time. Now, an object, such as a door, normally exists at a point in time and space. By way of contrast, a shooting star normally exists at a point in time over a continuum of space. But taken from the star's point of view, it's a completely different experience.” Harry: “You just lost me.” Dale: “If we're not at the right place at exactly the right time, we won't find our way in.” 

[fuckyeahjeremyclarkson]

When I was a small boy, we’d eat out once a year, always at the Berni Inn in Doncaster. The choices were not extensive. To start, it was either grapefruit juice or pineapple juice, and then it was breaded plaice or steak. Mind you, customers were able to choose how they’d like their meat cooked. For an hour. Or for much, much longer. The vegetables, meanwhile, went into the pot when you booked the table.

I knew this was wrong, even when I was only six, because my dad was a fanatical cook. He would cook for people all day. He cooked for the postman. He cooked for the women who worked for my mum in the barn at the bottom of the garden. And when he ran out of people to cook for, he’d make elaborate cakes for the birds.

He would rise at six so he could start cooking and I still yearn for some of the things he made. Tripe in a simple milk sauce, especially. And his roasted heart was one of the cornerstones of my childhood. Alongside Mungo Jerry, being bullied and the hedgehog-print jeans my mum made for me because Levi’s were too expensive. And which were the root cause of much of the bullying.

Later, in my teens, he would take me to London occasionally, and we’d go to a restaurant at 235 King’s Road, which was called 235 King’s Road. Or an Italian place on the Earls Court Road called Il Palio, where Bruno the owner and his chef would have furious rows all night long. And then at lunchtime, he’d take me to a place he knew in Marylebone for a salt beef sandwich.

Later, as my mum’s business started to become more successful, we’d go to San Lorenzo in Beauchamp Place and Odin’s, which belonged to Peter Langan. And I didn’t like the food they cooked because it wasn’t plain. It wasn’t simple. It wasn’t tripe in a milk sauce. It wasn’t roast heart.

Much later, AA Gill did his best to make me understand food and cooking. He would take me to places where the rabbit tasted like bacon and the pigeon like ham, and he would swoon and kiss the chef on the mouth. And I’d stare wistfully at my pigeon, thinking, “If I’d wanted something that tasted like ham, I’d have ordered ham.”

This is why I despise all provincial restaurants today. And please don’t write to tell me about a place your daughter-in-law has just opened in Penrith, because I won’t like that either. In restaurants outside London, it’s always about the chef’s ability to create a visual taste sensation. No one’s allowed to talk. You are expected to sit there in reverential silence, marvelling at how the single piece of cress is a perfect accompaniment for the bubbles in the broth.

And it’s bollocks. When I go out to eat, it’s because I can’t be arsed to do the washing-up. I want exactly what I’d make at home, only without the faff of making it. Shepherd’s pie. Spaghetti bolognaise. Lamb chops with new potatoes. And no effing sauce. I also don’t want a new concept, where I order 876 little things and then share them all with the people on the table by the loo. Or plates made from wood, or metal. I swear to God, restaurants that do this always provide cutlery that you can’t hold properly, so you can’t stab the waiter.

What a whopper: Clarkson lovingly cradles a marrow grown in the new kitchen garden at his 1,000-acre farm in Oxfordshire

What I hate most of all, though, is travelling with film crews. Because when we are abroad, they treat food as fuel. Which means we never walk the streets looking for the sort of restaurant that does home cooking well. They just eat whatever is provided at the hotel, which is almost always like the sort of food you get in Birmingham.

Nicola Formby — aka the Blonde made famous by AA Gill’s reviews — is always suggesting little places in back streets that do great gnocchi on a bed of lightly killed rattlesnake, but I don’t want that. I want simple. I had roast grasshoppers in Cambodia and Burma and they were terrific. I had a trout, plucked from the stream next to my table in Croatia, and then grilled. And that was even better. But the absolute best food I’ve ever eaten was a bruschetta in Bologna. Bread. Olive oil. Tomatoes. Basil, probably, and maybe some balsamic vinegar. I can’t be sure because after smoking half a million cigarettes, my taste buds have the sensitivity of steel. All I knew is they were really good tomatoes on a really nice piece of bread.I can add another couple of things to this list of culinary triumphs. The chicken pho by a chef called Ms No at the Six Senses Con Dao island resort off Vietnam. And the Denny’s breakfast experience in any of those Reacher towns in the red bits of America.If you break a perfectly poached egg, and in Denny’s the poached eggs are always perfect, onto their hash browns, I swear you end up with a taste sensation that would stop Jesus in his tracks. I have searched the world for hash browns made the Denny’s way, but when they’re offered, the chef has always suffused them with his own twist. By which I mean “ruined them”.

I have a similar global quest to find a better eggs benedict than the one I was given at the then Regent Hotel in Hong Kong, back in 1988. So far, it’s no dice. No one gets the simplicity right. Simplicity is always the key to my enjoyment of food. It’s why, when I cook, I never use cheese unless what I’m making is cheese on toast or a cheese sandwich. This is because cheese is a powerful flavour that sits in the pan like the Russian president sits in a room full of diplomats from former Soviet states. It’s the same story with bacon. Pop that into the mix and what you always end up with is something that tastes of bacon.

“Are you not getting the delicate hints of pomegranate?”

“Nope. Just bacon.”

All of which takes me back to my dad’s roast heart. I sometimes look online for how this might be made and what I get is “roasted ox heart stuffed with a mushroom duxelle” or “beef heart braised in wine” or “lamb’s heart stuffed with lemon thyme and streaky bacon”. No. And then no again.

And nor can you serve them with a Dover sole so you have the chance for a jokey “Heart and Sole” offering in the menu. I just want heart. I like the taste of it as it is. I like the texture and all I want added is a spoonful of mashed potato to mop up the blood.

I’ve just started an internet thing called FoodTribe, on which people can share thoughts and ideas on food. And I’m going to be sharing this quest for simplicity a lot. I may even go further and start turning the stuff I grow on my farm into straightforward food that I can sell in my simple, straightforward, unheated shop.

As I write, I have three sheep that are due to go “down the road”. I feel sad in some ways, but I’m cheered by the fact that I can have their hearts. And even more cheered by the fact that I’ve accidentally grown 20 tons of potatoes. It’s going to be a supper that makes me feel young again and it will be the first I’ve grown entirely by myself.

Yes. I started a kitchen garden earlier this year and have spent the past few months taking a weird pride that the spring onions, and the carrots and the peas and especially the golden beets, all of which were grown by my own . . . ability to tell girlfriend, Lisa, and gardener, Josh, exactly what I like.I don’t know why we enjoy eating vegetables that we’ve grown ourselves more than those grown by some disinterested Mexican on minimum wage. Maybe it’s because we know we haven’t urinated on them. Or because we know that no carbon was burnt in their trip from the soil to our table. But whatever the reason, we do. And I cannot wait to do that with meat as well. It’s simplicity in its purest form.

Jeremy’s recipes will be added to the next post to avoid this one turning into an enormous monster

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Important information

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Before taking this medicine

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if you take nitrates.

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liver or kidney disease;

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Viagra dosage information (in more detail)

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Viagra side effects (in more detail)

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See also:

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Further information

Remember, keep this and all other medicines out of the reach of children, never share your medicines with others, and use Viagra only for the indication prescribed.

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Copyright 1996-2020 Cerner Multum, Inc. Version: 12.01. PFM

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In Summary

Common side effects of Viagra include: dyspepsia, headache, visual disturbance, and flushing. Other side effects include: nasal congestion. See below for a comprehensive list of adverse effects.

For the Consumer

Applies to sildenafil: oral powder for suspension, oral tablet

Other dosage forms:

intravenous solution

Side effects requiring immediate medical attention

Along with its needed effects, sildenafil (the active ingredient contained in Viagra) may cause some unwanted effects. Although not all of these side effects may occur, if they do occur they may need medical attention.

Check with your doctor immediately if any of the following side effects occur while taking sildenafil:

Less common

Bladder pain

burning feeling in the chest or stomach

burning, crawling, itching, numbness, prickling, "pins and needles", or tingling feelings

cloudy or bloody urine

dizziness

increased frequency of urination

indigestion

pain on urination

stomach upset

tenderness in the stomach area

Rare

Abnormal vision

anxiety

behavior change similar to drunkenness

bleeding of the eye

blurred vision

bone pain

breast enlargement

chest pain

chills

cold sweats

confusion

convulsions (seizures)

cool and pale skin

deafness or hearing loss

decrease in amount of urine or the frequency of urination

decreased vision

difficulty in concentrating

dizziness or lightheadedness, especially when getting up suddenly from a lying or sitting position

double vision

drowsiness

dry eyes

dry mouth

dryness, redness, scaling, or peeling of the skin

excessive hunger

eye pain

fainting or faintness

fast, irregular, or pounding heartbeat

feeling of something in the eye

fever or chills

headache (severe or continuing)

increase in the size of the pupil

increased sweating

increased thirst

lower back or side pain

migraine headache

nausea (severe or continuing)

nervousness

nightmares

numbness of the hands

painful, swollen joints

prolonged, painful erection of penis

redness, burning, or swelling of the eyes

redness, itching, or tearing of the eyes

restless sleep

seeing shades of colors differently than before

sensitivity to light

shakiness

skin lesions with swelling

skin paleness

skin rash, hives, or itching

skin ulcers

slurred speech

sore throat

sudden weakness

swelling of the face, hands, feet, or lower legs

trouble breathing

twitching of the muscles

unusual feeling of burning or stinging of the skin

unusual tiredness or weakness

vision changes

vision loss, temporary

Incidence not known

Blindness

Side effects not requiring immediate medical attention

Some side effects of sildenafil may occur that usually do not need medical attention. These side effects may go away during treatment as your body adjusts to the medicine. Also, your health care professional may be able to tell you about ways to prevent or reduce some of these side effects.

Check with your health care professional if any of the following side effects continue or are bothersome or if you have any questions about them:

More common

Aches or pains in the muscles

bloody nose

diarrhea

difficult or labored breathing

flushing

headache

pain or tenderness around the eyes and cheekbones

redness of the skin

sneezing

stomach discomfort following meals

stuffy or runny nose

trouble sleeping

unusually warm skin

Rare

Abdominal or stomach pain

abnormal dreams

anxiety

clumsiness or unsteadiness

cough

diarrhea or stomach cramps (severe or continuing)

difficulty in swallowing

ear pain

increased amount of saliva

increased skin sensitivity

lack of coordination

loss of bladder control

mental depression

nausea

numbness or tingling of the hands, legs, or feet

rectal bleeding

redness or irritation of the tongue

redness, soreness, swelling, or bleeding of the gums

ringing or buzzing in the ears

sensation of motion, usually whirling, either of one's self or of one's surroundings

sexual problems in men (continuing), including failure to experience a sexual orgasm

sleepiness

sores in the mouth and on the lips

tense muscles

trembling and shaking

vomiting

waking to urinate at night

worsening of asthma

For Healthcare Professionals

Applies to sildenafil: intravenous solution, oral powder for reconstitution, oral tablet

General

The most common adverse reactions reported in clinical trials are headache, flushing, dyspepsia, abnormal vision, nasal congestion, back pain, myalgia, nausea, dizziness, and rash.[Ref]

Cardiovascular

Very common (10% or more): Flushing (10%)

Uncommon (0.1% to 1%): Heart rate increased, palpitations, tachycardia, hypertension, hypotension

Rare (less than 0.1%): Myocardial infarction, atrial fibrillation, sudden cardiac death, ventricular arrhythmia, unstable angina

Frequency not reported: Ventricular arrhythmia, sudden cardiac death, angina pectoris, AV block, tachycardia, palpitation, hypotension, postural hypotension, myocardial ischemia, cerebral thrombosis, cardiac arrest, heart failure, abnormal electrocardiogram, cardiomyopathy, shock

Postmarketing reports: Serious cardiovascular, cerebrovascular, and vascular events, including myocardial infarction; sudden cardiac death; ventricular arrhythmia; cerebrovascular hemorrhage; transient ischemic attack; hypertension; subarachnoid, intracerebral, and pulmonary hemorrhage have been reported in temporal association with the use of this drug.[Ref]

Gastrointestinal

Very common (10% or more): Dyspepsia (up to 17%), diarrhea

Common (1% to 10%): Nausea, vomiting, dry mouth, gastritis, gastroesophageal reflux disease, hemorrhoids, abdominal distension

Rare (less than 0.1%): Oral hypoesthesia

Frequency not reported: Glossitis, colitis, dysphagia, gastroenteritis, esophagitis, stomatitis, gingivitis[Ref]

Musculoskeletal

Very common (10% or more): Pain in extremity

Common (1% to 10%): Back pain, myalgia

Frequency not reported: Arthritis, arthrosis, myalgia, tendon rupture, tenosynovitis, bone pain, myasthenia, synovitis[Ref]

Nervous system

Very common (10% or more): Headache (up to 28%)

Common (1% to 10%): Dizziness, migraine, tremor, paresthesia, burning sensation

Uncommon (0.1% to 1%): Somnolence, hypoesthesia

Rare (less than 0.1%): Cerebrovascular accident, syncope

Frequency not reported: Transient ischemic attack, seizure, seizure recurrence, ataxia, hypertonia, neuralgia, neuropathy, paresthesia, somnolence, reflexes decreased

Postmarketing reports: Transient global amnesia[Ref]

Ocular

This drug has lesser affinity for isoenzyme PDE6, an enzyme found in the retina. This lower selectivity is thought to be the basis for abnormalities related to color vision observed with higher doses or plasma levels.

Nonarteritic anterior ischemic optic neuropathy developed in one eye within minutes to hours after ingestion of sildenafil (the active ingredient contained in Viagra) Four of the five patients had no vascular risk factors for ischemic optic neuropathy.

-Abnormal Vision: Mild to moderate and transient, predominantly color tinge to vision, but also increased sensitivity to light, or blurred vision.

-Visual color distortions: Chloropsia, chromatopsia, cyanopsia, erythropsia and xanthopsia

-Lacrimation disorders: Dry eye, lacrimal disorder and lacrimation increased[Ref]

Very common (10% or more): Abnormal vision (up to 11%)

Common (1% to 10%): Visual color distortion, retinal hemorrhage, visual impairment, vision blurred, photophobia, chromatopsia, cyanopsia, eye irritation, ocular hyperemia

Uncommon (0.1% to 1%): Conjunctival disorders, eye disorders, eye pain, lacrimation disorders, visual acuity reduced, diplopia, abnormal sensation in eye, photopsia, visual brightness, conjunctivitis

Rare (less than 0.1%): Retinal hemorrhage, arteriosclerotic retinopathy, retinal disorder, glaucoma, visual field defect, myopia, asthenopia, vitreous floaters, iris disorder, mydriasis, halo vision, eye edema, eye swelling, eyelid edema, scleral discoloration

Frequency not reported: Non-arteritic anterior ischemic optic neuropathy (NAION), retinal vascular occlusion, visual field defect, cataract[Ref]

Respiratory

Very common (10% or more): Pharyngitis (18%), rhinitis

Common (1% to 10%): Nasal congestion, epistaxis, cough

Uncommon (0.1% to 1%): Sinus congestion

Rare (less than 0.1%): Throat tightness, nasal edema, nasal dryness

Frequency not reported: Asthma, dyspnea, laryngitis, pharyngitis, sinusitis, bronchitis, sputum increased, cough increased[Ref]

Dermatologic

Common (1% to 10%): Rash, alopecia, erythema, night sweats

Frequency not reported: Steven-Johnson syndrome (SJS), toxic epidermal necrolysis(TEN), urticaria, herpes simplex, pruritus, sweating, skin ulcer, contact dermatitis, exfoliative dermatitis[Ref]

Hematologic

Common (1% to 10%): Anemia

Frequency not reported: Leukopenia

Postmarketing reports: In patients with pulmonary arterial hypertension (secondary to sickle cell disease) taking Revatio (R), vaso-occlusive crises requiring hospitalization were more commonly reported. The clinical relevance of this finding in male patients treated with sildenafil (the active ingredient contained in Viagra) for erectile dysfunction is unknown.[Ref]

Metabolic

Common (1% to 10%): Fluid retention

Frequency not reported: Thirst, edema, gout, unstable diabetes, hyperglycemia, hyperuricemia, hypoglycemic reaction, hypernatremia[Ref]

Other

Common (1% to 10%): Cellulitis, influenza, bronchitis, sinusitis, rhinitis, gastroenteritis, vertigo, pyrexia

Uncommon (0.1% to 1%): Tinnitus, chest pain, fatigue, gynecomastia

Rare (less than 0.1%): Deafness, irritability

Frequency not reported: Sudden hearing loss, edema, face edema, peripheral edema, pain, chills accidental fall, accidental injury[Ref]

Psychiatric

Common (1% to 10%): Insomnia, anxiety

Frequency not reported: Abnormal dreams, depression[Ref]

Genitourinary

Uncommon (0.1% to 1%): Penile hemorrhage, hematospermia

Frequency not reported: Priapism, prolonged erection, increased erection, cystitis, nocturia, urinary frequency, urinary incontinence, abnormal ejaculation, genital edema, anorgasmia[Ref]

Renal

Uncommon (0.1% to 1%): Hematuria[Ref]

Hypersensitivity

Rare (less than 0.1%): Hypersensitivity reactions, including rash and urticaria[Ref]

Hepatic

Frequency not reported: Liver function tests abnormal[Ref]

References

1. Cerner Multum, Inc. "Australian Product Information." O 0

2. "Product Information. Revatio (sildenafil)." Pfizer U.S. Pharmaceuticals Group, New York, NY.

3. "Product Information. Viagra (sildenafil)." Pfizer US Pharmaceuticals, New York, NY.

4. Cerner Multum, Inc. "UK Summary of Product Characteristics." O 0

5. Conti CR, Pepine CJ, Sweeney M "Efficacy and safety of sildenafil citrate in the treatment of erectile dysfunction in patients with ischemic heart disease." Am J Cardiol 83 (1999): c29-34

6. Malozowski S, Sahlroot JT "Hemodynamic effects of sildenafil." N Engl J Med 343 (2000): 967-8

7. Arruda-Olson AM, Pellikka PA "Appropriate use of exercise testing prior to administration of drugs for treatment of erectile dysfunction." Herz 28 (2003): 291-7

8. Kloner RA "Cardiovascular risk and sildenafil." Am J Cardiol 86 (2000): f57-61

9. Stanopoulos I, Hatzichristou D, Tryfon S, Tzortzis V, Apostolidis A, Argyropoulou P "Effects of sildenafil on cardiopulmonary responses during stress." J Urol 169 (2003): 1417-21

10. Tran D, Howes LG "Cardiovascular safety of sildenafil." Drug Saf 26 (2003): 453-60

11. Webster LJ, Michelakis ED, Davis T, Archer SL "Use of sildenafil for safe improvement of erectile function and quality of life in men with New York Heart Association classes II and III congestive heart failure: a prospective, placebo-controlled, double-blind crossover trial." Arch Intern Med 164 (2004): 514-20

12. Feenstra J, vanDriePierik RJHM, Lacle CF, Stricker BHC "Acute myocardial infarction associated with sildenafil." Lancet 352 (1998): 957-8

13. McLeod AL, McKenna CJ, Northridge DB "Myocardial infarction following the combined recreational use of Viagra and cannabis." Clin Cardiol 25 (2002): 133-4

14. Kloner RA, Zusman RM "Cardiovascular effects of sildenafil citrate and recommendations for its use." Am J Cardiol 84 (1999): n11-7

15. Khandheria BK "Erection, erectile dysfunction: what has heart got to do with it?" Herz 28 (2003): 275-6

16. Arruda-Olson AM, Mahoney DW, Nehra A, Leckel M, Pellikka PA "Cardiovascular effects of sildenafil during exercise in men with known or probable coronary artery disease: a randomized crossover trial." JAMA 287 (2002): 719-25

17. Montorsi F, McDermott TED, Morgan R, Olsson A, Schultz A, Kirkeby HJ, Osterloh IH "Efficacy and safety of fixed-dose oral sildenafil in the treatment of erectile dysfunction of various etiologies." Urology 53 (1999): 1011-8

18. Egan RA, Pomeranz H "Transient ischemic attack an stroke associated with sildenafil (Viagra) use." Neurology 59 (2002): 293-4

19. Zusman RM "Cardiovascular data on sildenafil citrate - Introduction." Am J Cardiol 83 (1999): c1-2

20. Jackson G "Treatment of erectile dysfunction in patients with cardiovascular disease : guide to drug selection." Drugs 64 (2004): 1533-45

21. Moreira SG, Brannigan RE, Spitz A, Orejuela FJ, Lipshultz LI, Kim ED "Side-effect profile of sildenafil citrate (Viagra) in clinical practice." Urology 56 (2000): 474-6

22. Bocchi EA, Guimaraes G, Mocelin A, Bacal F, Bellotti G, Ramires JF "Sildenafil effects on exercise, neurohormonal activation, and erectile dysfunction in congestive heart failure: a double-blind, placebo-controlled, randomized study followed by a prospective treatment for erectile dysfunction." Circulation 106 (2002): 1097-103

23. Zusman RM, Morales A, Glasser DB, Osterloh IH "Overall cardiovascular profile of sildenafil citrate." Am J Cardiol 83 (1999): c35-44

24. McMahon CG, Smali R, Johnson H "Efficacy, safety and patient acceptance of sildenafil citrate as treatment for erectile dysfunction." J Urol 164 (2000): 1192-6

25. Israilov S, Baniel J, Shmueli J, et al. "Treatment program for erectile dysfunction in patients with cardiovascular diseases." Am J Cardiol 93 (2004): 689-93

26. Awan GM, Calderon E, Dawood G, Alpert MA "Acute, symptomatic atrial fibrillation after sildenafil citrate therapy in a patient with hypertrophic obstructive cardiomyopathy." Am J Med Sci 320 (2000): 69-71

27. Brindis RG, Kloner RA "Sildenafil in patients with cardiovascular disease." Am J Cardiol 92(9 Suppl) (2003): 26-36

28. Goldenberg MM "Safety and efficacy of sildenafil citrate in the treatment of male erectile dysfunction." Clin Ther 20 (1998): 1033-48

29. Dunn N "Cardiovascular events in users of sildenafil - Paper does not provide any reassurance." Br Med J 323 (2001): 50-1

30. Bosch X "Sildenafil's effects extended to additional organs." Lancet 355 (2000): 631

31. Goldstein I, Lue TF, Padma-Nathan H, Rosen RC, Steers WD, Wicker PA "Oral sildenafil in the treatment of erectile dysfunction." N Engl J Med 338 (1998): 1397-404

32. Boolell M, Gepi-Attee S, Gingell JC, Allen MJ "Sildenafil, a novel effective oral therapy for male erectile dysfunction." Br J Urol 78 (1996): 257-61

33. PadmaNathan H, Steers WD, Wicker PA "Efficacy and safety of oral sildenafil in the treatment of erectile dysfunction: A double-blind, placebo-controlled study of 329 patients." Int J Clin Pract 52 (1998): 375-9

34. Bortolotti M, Mari C, Lopilato C, Porrazzo G, Miglioli M "Effects of sildenafil on esophageal motility of patients with idiopathic achalasia." Gastroenterology 118 (2000): 253-7

35. Gilad R, Lampl Y, Eshel Y, Sadeh M "Tonic-clonic seizures in patients taking sildenafil." BMJ 325 (2002): 869

36. Savitz SA, Caplan LR "Transient global amnesia after sildenafil (Viagra) use." Neurology 59 (2002): 778

37. Marmor MF "Sildenafil (Viagra) and ophthalmology." Arch Ophthalmol 117 (1999): 518-9

38. Boshier A, Pambakian N, Shakir SA "A case of nonarteritic ischemic optic neuropathy (NAION) in a male patient taking sildenafil." Int J Clin Pharmacol Ther 40 (2002): 422-3

39. Vobig MA "Retinal side-effects of sildenafil." Lancet 353 (1999): 1442

40. Egan R, Pomeranz H "Sildenafil (Viagra) associated anterior ischemic optic neuropathy." Arch Ophthalmol 118 (2000): 291-2

41. "Viagra and loss of vision." Med Lett Drugs Ther 47 (2005): 49

42. Zrenner E "No cause for alarm over retinal side-effects of sildenafil." Lancet 353 (1999): 340-1

43. Pomeranz HD, Smith KH, Hart WM Jr, Egan RA "Sildenafil-associated nonarteritic anterior ischemic optic neuropathy." Ophthalmology 109 (2002): 584-7

44. Vobig MA, Klotz T, Staak M, BartzSchmidt KU, Engelmann U, Walter P "Retinal side-effects of sildenafil." Lancet 353 (1999): 375

45. Gandhi JS "Sildenafil-associated NAION." Ophthalmology 110 (2003): 1860-1; author reply 1861

46. Jagle H, Jagle C, Serey L, et al. "Visual short-term effects of viagra: double-blind study in healthy young subjects." Am J Ophthalmol 137 (2004): 842-9

47. Milman HA, Arnold SB "Neurologic, psychological, and aggressive disturbances with sildenafil." Ann Pharmacother 36 (2002): 1129-34

48. Kassim AA, Fabry ME, Nagel RL "Acute priapism associated with the use of sildenafil in a patient with sickle cell trait." Blood 95 (2000): 1878-9

49. Goldmeier D, Lamba H "Prolonged erections produced by dihydrocodeine and sildenafil." BMJ 324 (2002): 1555

Further information

Always consult your healthcare provider to ensure the information displayed on this page applies to your personal circumstances.

Some side effects may not be reported. You may report them to the FDA.

Related questions

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[miccatepoztli]

Annoyingly Long and Obnoxious Meta On Ximena’s Magic Aura. 

No editing, we die like men.

To begin, we are going to assume some things.

First: let’s assume that a person’s aura is real and connected to both their personality and heritage. When I say heritage, I don’t just necessarily mean where a person comes from. I mean their parents. Their ancestors. The things that they did and accomplished. Because in my little fantasy headspace, physical blood is important.

Second: let’s assume that this aura can be sensed the same way we sense food, cloth, music, etc. Some people can see auras, some can smell them (like Ximena can), and some can taste them or hear them or physically touch them. Maybe you can even do more than one, but I expect that would be a lot of overstimulation.

Third: let’s assume that if auras are real, and they can be sensed, that they may also be hidden or amplified. A private person or someone who does not want to be noticed (like Ximena) may, in theory, cloak/conceal/hide away their aura from others. If in a situation that requires a certain level of passion (say, intimidating someone during a battle, comforting a loved one, or grieving), one can indeed do the opposite of hide and show others that aura. You can show your enemy the dangerous avalanche of your emotions. You can let your loved one feel protection and warmth. You can have your aura play the sad sounds of your mourning. 

All of these displays of auras is completely abstract, of course, I imagine it’s similar to synesthesia.

Now, let’s get a little more exciting and add magic into the mix.

For this idea, let’s use my general interpretation of what magic is and how it works (because if there’s a solid explanation, then it stops being magic and starts being science fiction): all living things, and even some non-living things that are natural (ex. rocks, dead flowers, sea shells) exude/produce magic. There are magic reservoirs and special areas of the world where magic is stronger. Some places where it is weaker. Magic moves like wind. Like currants. Magic is hella alive. It probably has a conscience.  It is one being and several beings at once.

Certain magic sticks to certain people. It creates somewhat of a symbiotic relationship. Give and take. The magic effects the person, and the person effects the magic. Certain things will come easily to the person because of the type of magic that has attached themselves to them/the type of magic that bends to their will. People who have never broken a dropped phone. People who never forget a birthday. People who have never gotten in an accident. People who always win bingo. People who always have the attention of the people in a room the moment they walk into it. People who always get the last slice of pizza. These are little magicks.

But! Living things includes, of course, humans. Humans can produce magic, but not at the same high rates as other creatures, such as goblins, fae, hulders, mermaids, what-have-you. For most humans, this magic is very difficult to unlock, and most never do it in their lifetimes, instead letting it build up until their deaths when it goes back out into the world (in a Harry Potter or FFVIII verse, the humans who are able to unlock it, are wizards/sorceresses).

So then, a review: Auras are real. They can be sensed. They can be manipulated. Magic is real. It is alive and everywhere. It sticks to certain people. They have strong influences on each other. Humans produce magic too, but it is very small, and hard to unlock. If you can unlock it, you’re Special.

Now, magic becomes physical when a spell is cast. When a potion is brewed. When a sigil is drawn. Turning water into wine, making a sleeping draught, carving runes...You’re bending magic into a shape/form. Creating a purpose. It can also become physical once it blends in with a person’s aura.

It takes time, I think. At first, maybe in infancy (or perhaps even in the womb?), the magic mixes with the aura like oil and water. You can shake them up (lol) for a temporary mix, but they will separate naturally. As time goes on, and the person grows and develops their personality, that same symbiosis relationship takes place with the aura and the magic until they are close to one and the same. The more blended they are, the easier it is for people to control their magic/have it do what they want it to do.

It also means that magic can be physically manifested when blended far enough with an aura. It can be sensed.

It is incredibly difficult to physically manifest your magic. To have it actually physically affect the world around you. It’s even more difficult to control it like this. It’s basically RAW ORGANIC MAGICKS™, and that shit is dangerous when it’s not filtered through spells or potions or any other form of performing magic.

It is also much much easier to sense a person’s magic than just a regular aura.

A person’s magic in physical form can be a lot of things. Fire, electricity, clouds, petals...Honestly this is the part where you should just let your imagination run wild because A) who cares, world building is fun, and B) every person with magic is different. As said before, the aura of a person depends on their personality and heritage. And magic affects the person binded to it and the aura of that person.

So, let’s get to Ximena. Spoilers! For her past, if that matters to you (I’d appreciate it if your muse didn’t automatically know these things unless we discuss them first):

Ximena was born in a cenote through ritual/magical means. From TripSavy: “A cenote is a deep, water-filled sinkhole in limestone that is created when the roof of an underground cavern collapses. This creates a natural pool which is then filled by rain and water flowing from underground rivers. The word cenote comes from the Mayan word dzonot, which means "well."” Ximena was also visited and drowned as a young child by La Llorona in a river after a flood when she went in deep to collect water, as the well she would have gone to was destroyed.

Water is the element of change, of which Ximena knows much about. It is why her magic is very water like. Cool and running/flowing. Dark. If you were able to touch/brush against Ximena’s magic, it would feel like your hand was submerged in running water. Cold. Soothing. But despite the gentleness of the current, it is very unyielding. It’s strong. Persistent.

Her magic feels old and ancient, as many cenotes are. It is also because of her particular family curse, of which includes (among other things) involuntary and often painful immortality. The magic that attaches itself to her has flowed through the veins of her father. Her grandmother. Her great-grandmother. Her great-great-grandmother. And the rest...

It is also old magic because of the (unknown to her for the longest time) powerful protective magicks on her beaded azebache bracelet (a bracelet meant to protect against the Evil Eye/evil intentions), crafted by and given to her by her father as a means of tricking the curse on their family. It feeds her magic.

The magic on this bracelet is much more powerful than hers, and if someone can naturally sense magic auras, they would be able to read the bracelet’s instead of hers. A means of diversion. Protection. Let’s hope she doesn’t loose it. The details of the magic of this bracelet are for another day, another post.

The color of Ximena’s magic is a lovely deep forest green. Healing and natural. Like the earth. A cenote is both earth and water, and this is where they meet. It’s an elegant color that brings about images of comfort and sturdiness. As she grows older and a bit more open/coy, blue will trace slowly into the edges. But only just.

As a result of Ximena’s spirit line, her magic also has an element of lightning. Her family, much more outspoken and spitfire than she, lingers in her aura and magic. When you dip your hand out of the water, it lingers like electricity in your fingers. Tingles playfully. It is also because Ximena is made up of contradictory things. Bold and meek. Just and selfish. Playful and studious. Water and electricity. 

Now the smell: Ximena’s usual scent is just clean laundry. The girl’s hygiene is impecable. She’s a breath of fresh air. Her own musk/sweat/natural scent is mild with strong wood/earth undertones. Her magic smells like citrus and mint. Both plants. Sharp and fruitful. Cool and smooth. Oranges are, naturally, Ximena’s favorite fruit, and one must wonder which affected the other first...Mint is a dangerous plant, as it consumes and grows rapidly over any other living thing in your garden if you’re not careful. It must be contained.

Taste is a little strange, because what person would go into a person’s personal bubble with their tongue out? (insert dirty joke here, lmao, I’m as mature as a 13 year old boy) But in the same way you can probably taste the scent of a steak cooking or taste the after-taste of an iced tea you drank a minute ago, you can taste magic. And Ximena’s magic is tangy. Like ginger beer. In fact, because I’m a bartender, I can tell you exactly what to mix in order to get a good approximation. 1oz Grand Marnier Orange Liqueur, 1-2 lemon wedges, 2 dashes agnostura bitters, shake lightly with ice, pour over ice in rocks glass, top off with half ginger beer, half Prosecco, garnish with mint and orange rind. If you’re not old enough to drink, replace Grand Marnier with freshly squeezed orange juice and the Prosecco with grapefruit soda.

The sound of Ximena’s magic is bells. Her themesong? Classic Mexican folksong: El Cascabel. The url for this blog? It’s the Nahuatl word for bells, literally meaning death metal, because whenever the church bells would ring, it would be for the death of someone. The ultimate goal of Ximena’s family? To be able to one day reach the afterlife, breaking this shit curse. 

Without her magic, Ximena’s aura would probably just be blue. Cobalt blue blending into cornflower blue. It would still feel like water, but less like a river, and more like gentle rain pricking at skin. It would taste like hard candy, similar to a lemon cough drop. It would smell like petrichor. It would still sound like bells.

If you’ve made this this far, I thank you. This will be all for tonight.

[carmypen]

I remade these “Detroit: Become Human” inspired drinks from the Flux Sci-Fi restaurant and bar in Shinjuku.

“Blue Blood”-A non-alcoholic, Thirium-inspired drink made with blue curaçao syrup, grapefruit juice and tonic water. The blue blood dripping off the glass is my own addition. It’s blueberry reàl infused syrup colored with blue food dye.

“Red Ice”-Alcholic drink. Vodka. Cranberry juice. Ginger ale. The rim is salt colored with red food dye.

Personally, I think the blue blood drink is the better tasting of the two 😋

[buglersboots]

My Experience with Prostate Cancer

I don't post this wanting anyone to feel sorry for me. I am pretty much recovered from this and am back to hiking 8-10 miles, lifting weights (although I'm not back to my pre-surgery poundage), bicycling 12-15 miles on the road, and 6-10 miles on the trails on my mountain bike. It's just something I want to get off my chest, and the anonymity afforded here makes it easier to say. And who knows, it may give encouragement to a person who is dealing with prostate cancer now.

The genesis of my story was late 2006 or early 2007, my yearly physical check up. My doctor said that since I was 45, he needed to run a PSA test to establish my baseline. About a week later, the doctor's office called and said that my PSA was abnormal and that he had scheduled an appointment with a urologist for follow-up. I kept the appointment with the urologist. He did the normal finger test and said that everything felt right. That was when I learned that a normal PSA is below 3 and that my score was above 10, a certain indication that I had prostate cancer. The urologist scheduled a date for what would become the first of several biopsies of my prostate.

I spent the time between that first meeting with the urologist and the biopsy learning about prostate cancer. First, when caught early, prostate cancer is almost always curable. Second, the cure has some unfortunate, life-long, and life-changing side effects. The most alarming are impotence, no more cum at orgasm, and varying degrees of incontinence. For an active person like me, the prospect of wearing diapers for the rest of my life was not something I looked forward to. Even worse, at 45, I still had hopes of having children, and the idea of being a permanent bottom was not appealing.

The day for the biopsy came, and I must admit that it was not as painful as I feared. Then came the waiting. Do I have cancer or not? If I have cancer, is it localized and treatable? Or has it spread, and I only have a limited number of days left? A week later, back at the urologist to get the results of the biopsy. Good news! No cancer in the biopsy! A month of worry and fret for nothing! But the urologist didn't sound as enthusiastic. Even though he removed twelve plugs from an organ the size of a walnut, all that meant was that there was no cancer in the samples. With my PSA as high as it was, it was a certainty that there was cancer in my prostate.

The next ten years included semiannual trips to the urologist for blood tests and finger tests. My PSA stayed consistently in the high 12s and low 13s. I endured two more biopsies, both of which were negative for cancer. As I said, the biopsy was not really painful, but for the next day or two, there is blood in your pee, and it takes four to six weeks before your semen is white again. But biopsies can damage the nerves that cause an erection. I don't know if it was the result of the biopsies or just my getting older, but my erections went from pointing up to the sky to 45° pointing to the ground.

In 2017 my PSA started rising and at my fall examination, it was over 17. My urologist recommended an MRI this time, saying that an MRI looked at the entire prostate rather than just a sample, and that it would find cancer anywhere in the prostate. Insurance balked at this, but my urologist was able to persuade them to cover the procedure. As with the biopsies before, the results of the MRI were negative for cancer. I dodged the bullet yet again.

My PSA continued to rise, and by the fall of 2018, it was over 23, a full ten points above what had been my normal reading. This time, my urologist wanted to do an extensive biopsy of between 24 and 36 cores. This would require that I be sedated and I would have to have someone drive me back home afterward. Finding a person willing to drive an hour to the hospital, wait two hours while I have the procedure done, and then another hour back home is a challenge for a single person with no family nearby and whose friends all have full-time jobs, but I did manage to get someone willing to kill half his day for me.

I arrive at the hospital and either insurance denied the extensive biopsy or my urologist had a change of heart, but he only took 14 cores. No need to be sedated, no need for a driver, another week of waiting for the results.

November 14, 2018, the results. My urologist walks into my examination room with papers in hand and says you have cancer. OK, is this one of the slow growing cancers that you do watchful waiting with or is it more serious? You have five cores that came back positive for cancer. Two have Gleason Scores of 3 + 3 = 6, two have Gleason scores of 3 + 4 = 7, and one has a Gleason Score of 4 + 3 = 7. These last three are concerning. In addition to that, one core showed cancer in 50% of the sample. The good news is that none of the cores showed perineural invasion, so we can fix you. At his last comment, I said to him that I know he didn't mean it like this, but I couldn't help but picture in my mind someone taking their dog to the vet to be fixed, especially given the similarities of the outcomes. We both had a good laugh over that.

November 29, 2018, preop consultation. During the two weeks following my diagnosis of cancer, I did a lot of research on treatment for prostate cancer. In addition to the three common treatments: surgery, radiation, hormonal therapy, I also learned about several other promising treatment methods in trials that did not result in impotence and incontinence. We discussed each one of the promising new treatment methods, and for each one, he explained why I was not a good candidate for inclusion in a trial. That left the three traditional treatment methods. He recommended surgery as the best option, because if the cancer comes back in the future, radiation or hormonal therapy are viable and relatively easy to do. In addition to that, I would still have viable sperm to harvest if I ever decided to start a family. Then I asked if he would do the nerve sparing surgery. He explained that even though my cancer was limited to one side of the prostate and had not penetrated the perineural, my high PSA, more than 3 positive cancer cores, a 4 + 3 = 7 Gleason Score, and at least one core with more than 35% cancer made me a poor candidate for nerve sparing surgery. So much for me ever being able to get a hard on by myself again. :(

Monday, January 7, 2019, surgery. Don't ask me anything about that day because I don't remember anything after they attached the IV to put me under. I was told that several people came by after surgery and that I carried on intelligent conversations with them. I'll take their word for it. My first post operation memory is waking up the evening after the surgery with crust on my face from my eyes down to my chin, like I had been crying. Was it from pain or because I just lost the ability to have sex on my own? I'm not sure. I don't remember being in pain, but they pump you full of pain killers after surgery also.

Tuesday, January 8, 2019, discharge. After a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, grits, coffee, orange juice, and biscuits, the discharge nurse enters. She provides instructions about how to care for the six incisions in my abdomen, how to care for and clean the Foley catheter, instructions for and limits to my physical activity for the next week, instructions about when to call the doctor or go back to the hospital if certain things happen, and prescriptions for half a dozen meds -- pain pills, antibiotics and such. I am out of the hospital by 10 AM the day after surgery. My driver is kind enough to take me to the pharmacy to pick up the meds. Why is the pharmacy always in the back of the store? It's not like people really want to walk to the back of the store the day after surgery.

Friday, January 11, 2019, return trip. In the four days since the surgery, I followed the discharge instructions as best I could. Don't stay seated for too long, walk at least once every hour for as far as you are able, keep the wounds clean, no lifting, take meds as instructed. But I had not had a bowel movement since the surgery, and it takes less and less food for me to feel full at each meal. After breakfast Friday morning, I try to take my morning meds with a glass of water. That was too much. I barely made it to the bathroom before I began to throw up the contents of my stomach. Uh-oh, the discharge papers say that throwing up is serious and to return to the hospital.

Back at the hospital, a series of x-rays and other tests results in a tube going up my nose, down my throat, and into my stomach to draw out the contents of my stomach. That was an experience I will not wish upon anyone. By that evening, it was determined that I needed to walk as much as I could, so a nurse came in every hour, helped me out of bed and I walked. At first, it was just in the room, and not too bad. By mid-day Saturday, it was "We need you to walk from your room, down the hall and to the nurses station and back." So here I am, showing my hiney to anyone who looks, dragging a rolling stand with my IV bags with one hand, a tube coming out of my nose, and my catheter bag in my other hand. What a frightful sight I was! The night nurse was a really cute, and really nice male nurse who was kind enough to get me a second gown to drape over my shoulders and hide my back side. He also set off my gaydar, I know you are not supposed to be able to tell us from straight people, but sometimes you just have to wonder. For some reason, I decided to lift my gown and look at crotch that evening, and I got the surprise of my life. My balls were the size of grapefruits and my dick had swollen so much that the skin of the shaft covered the head of my circumcised penis. I pressed the call button and a young female orderly came to my room a few minutes later. I did my best to describe my predicament in a way that would not get me labeled as some sexual deviant. She got my nice male nurse. He took one look at it and got the floor nurse because he had never seen anything like it. So now, the female orderly, my male nurse, and the female floor nurse are all in my room, looking at my swollen sexual organs. The floor nurse informs us all that the swelling was normal after surgery and that it takes care of itself in a week or two. That evening I have my first bowel movement since the surgery. It's only liquid, but it's a start.

The next day, Sunday, walking to the nurses station and back wasn't enough, now I had to walk the corridors of each of the four wings of the floor. I was told walking helps the swelling go down. I still had the rolling IV stand, my catheter bag, and the tube out my nose, but thanks to my night nurse, I could at least cover my rear end. By Sunday evening, I was starting to feel much better. I'm not sure if it was all the walking, the suctioning out of the contents of my stomach, or a combination of the two, but either way, my nose hose was no longer being hooked up to the suction pump. The bowels are moving more. In addition to green liquid, I'm pooping stuff that looks like coffee grounds. The nurses have to inspect what comes out each and every time I go to the bathroom. I feel sorry for them.

Monday, January 14, 2019, the nose tube comes out. One week after surgery. I get to drink water and eat ice chips again. Mind you that I have had nothing to eat since Friday morning, and the only times I was allowed to drink was when I took my meds. Since I am now consuming liquids, the IVs are all disconnected. A nurse accompanies me for my first lap around the floor to make sure I am OK. When we return to my room she says now do another lap by yourself. So now I am left to my own to do two laps around the floor every hour. About the time the other patients get lunch, they remove my nose tube, so I am only carrying my catheter bag for my hourly laps. My night nurse tells me that he can't get over how much better I look now compared to Friday night. I have to admit, I was feeling much better, so much better, that my perverted little brain was trying to figure out how I could get him into bed with me.

Tuesday, January 15, 2019, bye-bye catheter. For the first time since Friday morning, I get to eat food. It was only jello and cream of something soup, but hey, food is food. After breakfast I go down to x-ray where they fill my bladder with saline and take x-rays to make sure that the splice in my urethra has healed and is not leaking. If the swelling has gone down, I can't tell. I still have grapefruits hanging between my legs. My urologist comes by and tells me that after they remove the catheter, I will be going home. Excited to go home. Waiting. More waiting. Lunch of more jello and cream of something different soup. Still waiting. Finally two nurses come in to remove my catheter. They draw out the saline that has been keeping it in place in my bladder, and pull. Not a good feeling, but not as painful as I imagined. One of the nurses hands me a container and informs me that before I can be discharged, I have to produce enough pee to get to the mark on its side. If anyone has made it this far in my tale and has never had prostate surgery or never had a catheter for a week, let me educate you on something. When that catheter comes out, you have no bladder control. The kidneys send urine to the bladder and it pretty much comes on out by drips and squirts. So here I am, drinking as much water as I can stand, while at the same time holding that container under my dick, trying to catch every drop that comes out. Between my swollen balls, and surgery shortened still swollen dick, I can't sit down and collect my urine as it comes out, so I have to stand and walk around the room holding the container under my dick. My pee is still stained with a little blood from the surgery and the removal of the catheter, and a few blood clots that have been swept out by all the water I'm drinking. Between the water and the walking, I'm slowly approaching the line that the nurse marked on the container when I bump into the bedside table and drop the container. It hits the floor and spills all the pee I've so carefully collected. I have to start over. I have been so focused on filling the container with my pee, that I failed to notice that it is now supper time. Supper is more jello and cream of who knows what soup. That's when the nurse informs me that help prevent congestion at the front of the hospital, the hospital discharges each floor at a particular time, and that the floor I'm on discharges at 7:30 PM no matter what the doctor says. Finally, around 7:45, an orderly makes it to my room with a wheelchair and I'm on my way home.

[prairiesongserial]

5.5

John, Cody, and Sailor stood frozen for several seconds in a strange transition between violence and breakfast. Marc’s goons didn’t seem to know what to do, either. Cody had recognized the two of them, and had even called one by name - Nash. They both looked sort of familiar to John, too. Had he seen them in passing at La Salle? But, then again, they were wearing suits. Any suited figure might cut a familiar silhouette.

“Marc, what’s the plan, here?” the woman with the eyepatch said, deadpan.

“Oh, do disarm them and let’s get on with it. I’m never up this early, but for some reason I’m starving.” Marc dug a gold satin handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his pajamas and covered a yawn. Then he very carefully rearranged the handkerchief in his pocket so that the corner was peeking out just so. “Sailor won’t shoot me. She wants me alive.”

John did not like this man. He looked to Sailor for help - but she looked more annoyed than worried. She seemed to believe that Marc wasn’t going to hurt them.

Without any further prompting, Sailor handed her gun to the woman with the eyepatch, and Cody followed suit, handing his to Nash.

“Well, ain’t this familiar?” Nash said to Cody, winking.

Cody frowned. “I don’t think you should be comparin’ yourselves to La Salle of all places.”

“Aw, Cody, don’t be like that,” Nash whined, gesturing for Cody to hand over his holster as well. “We had fun there, at least. You know, that was my and Cole’s honeymoon.”

“It wasn’t,” the woman - Cole - said.

Cody cracked the barest smile, almost like he couldn’t help himself, and reached for his holster. John decided he did not like Nash either.

Once Nash had Cody’s gun holstered, and the holster safely slung over one shoulder, he turned to John.

“Don’t think I forgot about you, darlin’,” he said, smiling. John caught a long glimpse of fangs - big fangs, like a carnivorous animal’s - in Nash’s mouth. Clearly a threat. John really did not like Nash.

Glaring, John unbuckled his holster and handed it off.

Without another second wasted, Marc hooked his arm in Sailor’s and took off down the hall with her, his satin pajamas swishing delicately along.

“Sailor, you are going to love what I’ve done with the place since the last time you were here,” he crowed. “Close your eyes, dear, and imagine - pink velveteen.”

John and Cody had no choice but to follow.

As soon as he stepped into the dining room, John had the wind knocked out of him.

He had not had any idea what “pink velveteen” was until this moment, when suddenly, he knew.  The delicate, oval-backed chairs were upholstered in it. The windows were draped in it, though presently the drapes were pulled back to let the morning light in. Everything that wasn’t pink velveteen was gilded, from the backs of the chairs to the cutlery, all except the dining room table itself, which was a black wood so shiny John could see his face in it. This was the tallest room John had ever been in, with pink marble columns in all four corners. But most striking of all was the west wall. A wide stream of water ran down its entire surface, collecting in a basin at the bottom. John couldn’t peel his eyes away.

“Well, Sailor, aimez-vous?” Marc asked, beaming. “I particularly like how the drapes can block out the sun entirely, if I am in the mood for a more vampiric atmosphere. But not at brunch.”

Sailor did not respond.

Three more white suits appeared in the far doorway, each sporting a gilded trolley cart. They approached the table, and without any verbal instruction, selected the three chairs in which John, Cody, and Sailor were meant to sit. The suits pulled them out and waited, ready to push the chairs back in as soon as the three of them were seated.

Meanwhile, Marc pulled out his own chair at the head and flung himself down in it with a shake of his golden coif. Nash and Cole hovered by the windows, already picking at the trolley carts despite the table not having been served yet.

“Sit down, sit down, friends. They can’t serve the food until you’re ready for it, and I for one am famished. It is so stressful catching invaders in your home, and I always get so hungry when I’m stressed.”

Sailor sat first, apparently familiar enough with this routine to feel at ease. She had said she had been trying to catch Marc for a long time, but she hadn’t said anything to imply the tense familiarity between the two of them. As soon as she was seated, she picked up a tiny golden fork and started picking her teeth with it, glaring at Marc.

Cody sat as well, and gave John a gentle look. Like he wanted to reassure him. John was not prepared to feel reassured while Nash still had both of their guns, but he sat also.

At once, the white suits silently served portions onto their plates, starting with Marc. On his right a suit poured champagne into a flute of orange juice, while on his left another gently delivered a single egg balanced on a filigreed, egg-sized goblet. The three suits then divided between John, Cody, and Sailor, serving them breakfast.

John found himself with a latticed kind of griddle cake on his plate, sprinkled with powdered sugar. He now had three glasses - one with water, one with grapefruit juice, and the last a mimosa, the champagne and orange drink Marc had declared they would be served. John sniffed it and set it aside.

All while they were being served, no one said anything, except Sailor.

“Marc, you know I don’t drink this shit,” she said loudly, gesturing with her champagne flute.

The suit looked to Marc for guidance. You could have heard a pin drop.

“Make the lady a bloody mary, then,” Marc said with a sigh and a wave of his hand. “And we will finally get to business. There is nothing worse than business in the morning, so I really resent your timing. You should have come around four o’clock, and we could have had an early dinner and brandy.”

“Marc - ” Sailor said warningly.

Marc held up a finger. He picked up a tiny gold spoon and tapped his egg in its egg cup, delicately cracking the shell all around.

“As I was saying, welcome, all of you, to Texas Waters.” Marc peeled away the outer shell at the top of the egg, then pierced the surface with the spoon, raising a tiny bite up to his mouth. “You came at just the right time, your early morning arrival aside. You see, several of my men were brutally murdered last night, but as good fortune would have it, you three have shown up to replace them. And I see you’ve already been fitted for your ensemble - though you have a bit of… la saleté ou, ou... le sang?” Marc swiped one finger over Sailor’s shoulder, scraping away a touch of dried blood and raising it to his nose. “Le sang, then.”

Sailor snarled at him, baring her teeth.

“Very convenient timing, you three showing up in my men’s suits just when I become suddenly shorthanded,” Marc said. He took another tiny bite of soft-boiled egg. Then another. For several minutes, the table sat in silence while Marc ate and Sailor downed her bloody mary.

John saw where this was going. They were going to have to work off an invented debt, and unwelcome as the pattern was, at least it was familiar. John picked up his griddle cake with his hands, seeing no other approach, and took a bite. It was crunchy, and sweet, and he took another, bigger bite.

Next to him, Cody was pushing a fat sausage link around his plate. He had wolfed down whatever else he had been given - out of nerves, or just plain habit - but the sausage did not appeal. He saw John watching, paused, and stabbed the link with a golden fork, depositing it fork and all on John’s plate.

John was surprised he hadn’t said anything since they’d sat down at the table. Usually, he was the first to play his hand in a conversation or confrontation, but this time, he was deferring to Sailor totally. Maybe it was an old habit from years spent around the Dead-Eyes. Hierarchy.

Marc set his spoon down on the table, his egg finished.

“Since I’m a reasonable man, the three of you will do just one little job for me, and you’ll even get the salaries of the six men you killed. That’s double pay, since there are only three of you.” Marc wiped delicately at his mouth with his lace napkin. “So that would come to… three thousand Texas silver dollars apiece.”

Next to him, John felt Cody sit up a little straighter.

This was not what John had been expecting. Payment, and steep payment, at that - that was going to change things. From where John was sitting, it wasn’t looking like the bounty on Marc was going to pan out. He and Cody were up a creek with a broken motorbike and no money. They needed three thousand silver.

“Oh, like hell,” Sailor snapped, standing up from the table. “I’m not workin’ for you, you son of a bitch. I don’t need your money, so why don’t you give me my gun back and I’ll see myself out.”

She reached behind her, as if to draw another weapon, and John realized that he hadn’t seen Sailor’s knife yet today.

Nash and Cole were behind Sailor in an instant, holding her arms behind her back. Marc was on his feet, too, and strode confidently over to her. Sailor rolled her neck agitatedly as Cole patted her down for the knife, and finally drew it, throwing it at Marc’s feet.

“Lovely,” Marc said.

“Fuck you, Marc,” Sailor said.

“Oh, you’ll want to save that. I just had a great idea.”

Marc held out an open palm, and one of the white suits sprinted over to fill it. Marc tested the weight of the metal baton he’d been handed.

John’s heart leapt to his throat. Marc was going to beat her. He didn’t want to see Sailor beaten. John could practically feel the baton ripping his back in half.

“Cody,” he said.

Cody gripped his knee hard under the table.

Marc swung. The baton went low. The sound it made was of metal on metal, and for one, relief-filled second, John thought Marc had missed. Sailor still had a chance to wriggle away. But no, Sailor was doubled over, leaning to one side.

“That hurt,” she yelled, spitting at Marc’s face. Her metal prosthetic skidded across the room, knocked out from under her. Another white suit grabbed it off the floor, nearly dropping it - because of the weight, John assumed.

“Trash the leg, please, Carmen,” Marc sing-songed. “And would you catch Jordan on the way and tell them to bring down the - well, it’s better as a surprise.”

Carmen nodded and left quickly. Sailor, now relying on Nash and Cole for balance, was forced to sit back in her seat.

“I don’t know how you think I’m going to do a job for you now, idiot. Unless your surprise is…” She cut herself off. Then, suddenly, she lunged across the table and swiped Marc’s mimosa, downing it in one gulp. She motioned for another bloody mary, which one of the suits hesitantly began to mix for her.

John’s heart was pounding, to the point that he thought he might be sick. Cody’s hand was still on his knee, grip firm, but not as tight as before. John knew what it meant: stay in your seat, hold your tongue, and let Marc and Sailor hash it out. But when John looked at Cody, his expression wasn’t warning, or even severe. He looked worried.

John ground his teeth and looked away, trying to get a hold of himself. But he could see out of the corner of his eye that Cody was still looking at him.

Sailor snatched her bloody mary out of the suit’s hands before he’d had time to stick a fresh piece of celery into her glass, sloshing half of it onto the table. Marc started to tap another soft-boiled egg with the back of his spoon. At the first tap, Cody’s hand left John’s knee, and it was like a breath of wind had scared off a particularly pretty yellow sulphur butterfly, the ones that John had liked to watch in the fennel patch.

Loudly, the doors opened again. A different suit, a feminine figure with box braids, hauled a large gold object over one shoulder, a wide smile on their face.

“Thank you, Jordan,” Marc said, rising again. He pulled Sailor’s chair out himself, and even knelt on the ground in front of her where she could easily kick a few teeth out. The new suit - probably Jordan - approached with the object. It was a golden leg, lovingly sculpted to look like it was made of running water.

“Gold?” Sailor asked. “You’re fucking joking, Waters.”

“It’s only gold-plated, mon amour. The core is titanium, very light.” Marc started to join the leg to her knee, but before the leg even touched her, he stopped, looking puzzled.

“Give it to me,” Sailor said, snatching it away. “Did you think it was like a shoe? You’re stupid.”

“There was a Cinderella parallel I was hoping you might note,” he said a little wistfully.

Sailor easily attached the new leg and tested her weight on it.

“And I guess you want me to pay for this,” she said, deadpan. “Even though you’re the one who just - ”

Marc waved his hand, getting to his feet again.

“Your old leg was too heavy, anyway,” he said. “The new one is a favor. But… if you don’t cooperate, that favor can be taken away. I don’t believe I have to demonstrate again how easy that is.”

Sailor laughed, loudly and angrily.

“Yeah, sure, fine. We’ll do your job. I’m goin’ right back to killing you when - ”

Marc sat in his seat and resumed tapping his egg with a spoon.

“Kill me? Mon amour, you would never.”

5.4 || 5.6