#mixing alcohol and caffeine is a bad idea

[shutinlear53]

Matcha Miku save me...I need an extra slutty matcha mojito to survive

[jacob-blogs]

I feel like people become HYPER-SELF-AWARE when they mix substances and that's probably a bad thing

[21st-century-minutiae]

"Spiked" is a euphemism for "contains alcohol." Specifically, it refers to adding alcohol to normally non-alcoholic beverage products. There is usually a connotation that the alcohol was added secretly without the knowledge of witnesses (or other consumers), such as someone 'spiking the punch bowl' at a public gathering, but many products are sold explicitly as 'spiked' (see the above).

Alcohol is quite popular, though there are many legal restrictions on its distribution.

A similar word to refer to 'alcoholic beverage that isn't always alcoholic' is 'hard.'

[darkbluekies]

The OCs search history <3

Silas:

"How to take care of ptsd in partner"

"How to make someone stop crying"

"How to make your partner forgive you"

"Best restaurant"

"Dark web"

"Diamond ring/neckace/earrings/bracelet"

"Best steak"

"How to stop people from gawking at my partner"

"Protein powder"

"Best soap to wash away blood from skin"

"Best detergent to wash away blood from clothes"

"Best cleaning supplies to wash away blood from walls"

"Best spray to keep blood smell away"

"Five star restaurant booking"

"Why are my clothes thrown out the window?"

Dr Kry:

"Morphine"

"Book series without explicit scenes"

"Healthy recipes"

"How to frame someone for murder"

"Am I secretely perverted"

"Forged signatures without watermark"

"Protein shakes"

"What happens if you mix poision with alcohol"

"Puzzles"

"PG-13 rated movies without angst or horror"

"Plushies"

"Needles"

"How to become an author?"

"How to know if your strict childhood has had any impact on your mental health"

"How to get over your phobia for germs?"

"Strong caffeine drinks"

King Edmund (let's pretend he has internet for a hot minute):

"Is it really dictatorship if I let people complain"

"Ptsd test"

"Why doesn't my wife talk to me?"

"Nightmare analysis"

"How to cheer up an angry wife"

"Can a queen rule over a king?"

"How much alcohol can you drink before you get knocked out?"

"Beatiful dresses for a queen"

"Jewelry for a queen"

"Are public executions a good fear tactic?"

"How do women's anatomy work?"

"Can you punish theft by death?"

"Can you cook rats?"

"Why are little kids scared of me?"

Jerry:

"Is drinkable bleach a thing????"

"What to do if your s/o is a fucking loser"

"Is saying 'you're an idiot' synonyms for 'i love you'?"

"Guns"

"Knives"

"Sexy outfits that doesn't make me look like a fucking clown"

"How to ask someone out on a date without sounding like a loser"

"Impressive date ideas"

"Alcohol that will make me forget today, yesterday, tomorrow and a week forward"

"Spare parts to motorcycle"

"Why am I so fucking cool?????"

"Why am I so fucking miserable?????"

"How to hug your s/o without it being cringe"

"How to make your motorcycle go much faster?"

"Boxing gloves"

"40 boxes of *your favorite snack*"

Hedwig:

"Aestethic wedding ideas"

"Is baby trapping illegal?"

"Is nepotism really that bad?"

"How to guilt trip someone"

"Utterly obsessed with my partner"

"How to be a good kisser"

"Dark web"

"Buy hitmen"

"How to bankruptcy someone"

"How to impress your partners parents"

"Best flowers for dates"

"Best hotel resorts for couples"

"Can you become a super model without school grades"

"Love poems"

"Poison"

"*your adress*"

"Best perfumes to seduce someone"

"*your instagram*"

"*your name*"

"How do I know if I'm blocked on social media"

[cumaeansibyl]

okay this is my biggest conspiracy theory except it's not really a Conspiracy Theory because I am not actually positing a shadowy prime mover who planned the whole thing from the start. that always ends up in wildly antisemitic places where I do not go, and also I don't think anyone in history has had their shit together enough to mastermind Schemes of this type. my theories are always more like "this happened serendipitously and at some point maybe someone noticed and took advantage but there's certainly no central figure in charge."

so we start with the normalization of overwork in our society, since roughly forever. in modern times this led to abuse of medical and recreational stimulants -- everyone was on speed in the 50s and coke in the 80s -- but we all kind of figured out that was a bad idea, for the most part. what we still had after the white powder settled, though, was caffeine. totally legal, totally normalized.

but people were still overworked, and they also still wanted to have energy after work, to do fun things with the little free time left to them.

enter energy drinks.

unlike coffee, which still has the feeling of a daytime beverage and also to some extent a workplace beverage, energy drinks are an anytime food! you can even get them in mixed drinks for a night out. they're for work AND play. they come in a wide range of dose strengths, including a shooter for when you're in really dire straits. after all, taking caffeine pills feels like "pill-popping," but having a little beverage is fine, right?

at the same time, there is increasing interest in remedies for a variety of unspecific ailments caused by "toxins," the new buzzword in a very old industry of patent nostrums and dubious cure-alls. the theory is that some sort of unspecified substance has entered your body, and in order to feel well again you need to detox and cleanse -- which in practice involves a lot of induced defecation. And this is supposed to be good for feelings of fatigue, muscle soreness, anxiety, stomach upset, and difficulty sleeping.

See where I'm going with this?

The "toxins" that make you feel terrible all the time are caffeine. Not heavy metals, or refined sugar, or vaccines, or yeast. It's just fucking caffeine.

Well, caffeine and chronic overwork/sleep deprivation, which is not entirely a direct result of the caffeine but is certainly enabled/exacerbated by it. Everyone is working too much and taking stimulants to get through the day and in fact experiencing mild overdose symptoms on a fairly regular basis (irritable? jittery? that's caffeine toxicity) and it's no wonder we all feel like shit.

And then! When you come home from your day of pushing your mind and body too hard! It is ALSO normalized to take downers to level out! Alcohol is also a toxin, and it takes a lot less of it to start doing systemic damage than most people realize. When you wake up in the morning feeling foggy and achy, it may not be enough to register as a proper hangover, but it's almost certainly the combined effect of alcohol and caffeine withdrawal. Both mild! Both nearly harmless and easily recovered from! If you're not doing it on a regular basis and if you're getting enough rest, which you're not, as we previously established.

It's the chronicity that's the issue, the neverending grind of it all. You can't recover from chronic sleep deprivation or overwork with an extra few hours of rest on the weekends. You can't recover from long-term chemical dependence with a 24-hour tolerance break. If you're a wage earner in late-stage capitalism your options for reversing the damage are pretty limited and they all look like deprivation: prioritizing an unbroken 8-9 hours of sleep per night may well mean giving up most if not all of your social life and leisure activities. Fuck that.

And to be clear, I don't consider choosing to stay out late with a vodka Red Bull to be a personal failure of any kind, just like I don't think poor people should never buy themselves anything nice. If work keeps trying to take more and more of your time, you gotta carve out time for yourself somewhere. But... y'all know me. I want people to know the risks.

I think a lot of people don't realize that their bodies are under this much strain. They don't know that we are better suited for a 4-6 hour work day, that 6-7 hours of sleep is genuinely not enough for most people, that as little as 2 cups of coffee might be enough to put them over the recommended maximum caffeine intake. They don't know that they're drinking enough alcohol to cause health problems.

If you know and you decide to do it anyway that's fine, it's your right. I do inadvisable shit all the time. But people don't know, they're not being told, because they can't be allowed to question the material conditions they're being forced to endure -- and then they're being sold a bunch of useless or even harmful bullshit to "cure" the inevitable consequences of those conditions.

[oxygenbefore1775]

AoT characters as types of poisons

warriors edition!

cw: poisons and all the ways they could (and would) kill; also mention of abortion in zeke's hcs

a/n: as a pharmacy student i also have to study toxicology for some reason so what better way to apply my knowedge than to use it for some hcs; the thing on the divider is citric acid - it's not poisonous, it just looks cool

don't fucking get any ideas from this, it's all harmless fun, pls be reasonable

Annie

strychnine

you're nothing but a pesky vermin to it that needs to be mercilessly annihilated

it's actually been used as a performance-enhancing drug - you know, before people realized how fucking deadly it is

it's very versatile in the way it can enter your system, be it through inhaling it, consuming it or entering you via your bloodstream, even through the fucking eyes, the possibilities are endless

the only thing that's the same is your inevitable death

it's a neurotoxin class, meaning it's destroys the nervous system to the point that your brain can't send signals to the rest of your body which leads to paralysis

complete paralysis of the body, including the breathing muscles

i.e. you slowly die of suffocation all the while your airways are completely free and not blocked by anything and you stay perfectly conscious and aware of the each second you spend uncontrollably twitching

30 mins hardly pass between the first time strychnine enters your system and your death but it makes sure that each passing minute is agony for you

what's worse, there's no antidote against it - you are litteraly doomed the moment you come in contace with it

Bertholdt

acetaminophen aka paracetamol (or tylenol if you live in the us)

a wolf in sheep's clothing

harmless fella at the first sight and is actually nice for relieving different kinds of pain

but it has a dark side

it takes a LOT to get an overdose dangerous enough to kill you

and even then it wouldn't be followed by any symptoms for a whole week - it'd be just sitting there, gathering its strength for one powerful obliterating attack on your system

but when it kicks in, you're in for a lethal treat

your liver is the first to go down and sets off a whole chain of events with your kidneys and pancreas following suit and failing as well

the next thing to happen is that your blood gets too acidic for your body to handle and all the tissue near your blood stream (which is all the tissue in the organism) gets constantly irritated by the acids

the death is long-awaited, devastating and quite painful but it doesn't last that long - once the symptoms kick in, you'll be dead in the couple of hours

Colt

caffeine

a sunshine drug loved by everyone (but mostly young people)

it's everything a tired person could wish for - it energizes, it relieves pain, it gives you strength and motivation to live another day

don't mix it with alcohol though, it's a very bad idea

it basically creates the illusion that alcohol doesn't affect you which causes you to drink even more and you will be even more drunk than usual and a total wreck overall (and the hangover part won't be that nice)

it can't kill you that easily, you'll literally have to consume 70 cups of coffee in one sitting to even be close to death

the most fun symptom of it is eye flashes - not deadly, but definitely annoying

Pieck

nicotine

because zeke likes her :3

highly addictive and causes severe distress during withdrawal

only good for killing insects, pretty useless against people

it's very universal in its entry into the body - nasal, oral, dermal - and each means of consumption has its own perks

will take a lot to even reach an overdose, let alone the one that may be lethal

the worst immediate thing it can cause for you is headache and diziness

sure, it is harmful but you won't see the effects of it until couple of years in the future

but that's how it gets you - by being nice and pleasurable to consume

but - it works very well in combination with other poisons, especially if nicotine has been in the system for quite a long time

any poisons - nicotine prepares the turf for them and increases their effects tenfold

overall, it can be deadly but only with some other poison at its side

Porco

phosgen

it smells very nice (like fresh cut grass or hay)

a perfect warfare weapon

it's down to the earth so there's almost no chance you can escape it - it's moving fast and out there to kill you

its only way to enter the body is through your respiratory system

insidious little fucker as it's colorless and by the time you would notice it, it would be all to late

very-very reactive

basically burns the inside lining of the lungs and causes swelling of the airways at which point you die of suffocation since your body is physically unable to take a breath

it's a bloody death though as the damaged lungs are exposed to capillaris connected to them and as the result your lungs fill with blood that you helplessly try to expell ou of you with irregular coughs

Reiner

quicksilver

once useful and irreplacable, it slowly loses its advantage to the more modern findings of the civilization (just like rei and his armor)

absolutely harmless if consmed orally - you can litteraly eat a spoonful of it and it can do barely nothing to you

but once the heat is on, that's when it gets dangerous cuz it evaporates and that what kills you - quicksilver vapors

even in smal concentrations it can be deadly

one of the most prominent symptoms of quicksilver poisoning are the rosy color of the skin as if you were blushing and isomina

when the exposure is prolonged, it can cause depression among other things

the other thing is - once it enters your organism it will not exit it, there's no way to remove it, it will stay with you forever

it's not that it can kill you but the more severe the overdose is, the more you would be yearning for the sweet release of death

Zeke

digoxin (like i stated before in the convo with st)

also works a medication, a wonder-drug that's very versatile and can help with almost any heart disease

it's also used in abortions (how fitting)

it has a side-effect of enlarging breasts, be it female or male (lol)

a deceiving little fucker - you have to be very careful in order not to overdose and the intoxication can be chronic and proceed over the months

very intricate, it affects the body on a less than cellular level and fucks with the mechanism as sophisticated as electro-cardial processes of your heart

its main mechanism is inhibition, i.e. it litteraly doesn't let your body function at its normal rate, it controls you from now on

it strikes your heart first of all and you're litteraly left at the mercy of this traitorous drug as it controls your pulse

after a long torture where this drug constantly either accelerates or slows down your pulse

heart is all the flutter because of it, to sum up

the death is less-likely to happen but everything before that would be a fucking torture and you'll be surely living in misery

but one day it will stop your heart

feel free to request if you wanna see other categories of characters like 104th or the veterans - im open to ideas; ik it's pretty grim but it makes my monkey brain happy

[flaskoflethe]

It's an... Experience. 4loko may have a meme status, but it's a seriously bad idea.

an extremely specific skillset that you don't have - *yet*

True--but I do NOT have steady hands. I used to do a couple shots of vodka before I had to do precision knife work just to steady them out. I've got a mild intermittent tremor that would make my pinstripes more of a pinwiggle.

I mean, I'll do it, but he's gotta buy me a drink or two before I take a swing at it.

[disregardenedgnostic]

i've been torrenting a shitton of anime for like the past month straight barring the occasional power outage or tripped breaker. My CPU's uptime hjust passed thirteen days.

i have no idea what a handle is. my computer is punisheing me for my unbelievable hubris by passive-aggressivelty threatening to kill itself

i am either becoming a god or being majorly stink-eyed by the good lord. i just spilled malt ligupr on my sweatpants i'm definitely gonna smeell like booze in thye morning (i say it's 5am). now i know that it's possible someone that there's slomeone reading this who grew up with enough money they yhink i mean single-malt whiskey because tjat's happened befgore and no i don't mean single-malt whiskey i really really don't this shit's way cheaper and way tastier and i have open a 24oz can of the stuff that's about two-thirds of a liter for people from normal places yes that's a lot for one drink even at okay wait i can't actually find a %ABV on here that's probablty fine disregard that mixing alcohol and antidepressants is universally a bad idea of course i'm taking the duloxetine more for neuropathy tha ndepression heehehehhehehee not that that matters but shit the alcoholism'ws winning tonight! 15yo me was right giving in to the drink rules i should mix weed in that's a great idea and it's a spliff too i'm supposed to never smoke tobacoo ever since my doctor made me quit because it makes my migraines worse an also akl the other reasons WE'RE DOING ALL THE BAD IDEAS TONIGHT BABY i'm gonna make sure i don't try to mix uppers and downers HEY ME A CC OUPLE HOURS FROM NOW DO NOT FUCKIONG TAKE THOSE CAFFEINE PILLS THAT'S AN EVEN WORSE IDEA YOU WILL PROBABLY GO TO THE HISPITAL AND IT;LL BE REALLY REALLY EMBARASSING

fuck it's hot in here. runniong the computer for 13 days coinciding with a heat wave definitely has something to do with that yaaaaaaaaaaaay the weed's kikimg in :D oop coughing glah

y'know this is a spiral. this is definitely a spiral. i dropped outta my summer classes, i'm halfwzay to dropping out of college. again. shut up, kurt vonnegut dropped out twice! and tried to kill himself at least twice! and shit he wrote Slapstick! like i love that book but how the fuck do you recover from thAT? i dunno but hey he did it

you know what this started when that bookcase attacked me. shit i ain't kurt vonnegut i can't come back from that that's a fucking anime gag i've seen that happen in at least two anime //three if you count both fullmetal alchemists!// ↑those aren't effective replacements for parentheses! <==art thou fucking kidding me with this goddamn alt code shit we need to go back to 1998 that was the golden age of web design ╚oh ypu wanna go back to 1998 huh kill urself lololol | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | wow our gets and insults and other such bantz were at least creative back then geez also spelling §BECK IN MYYYYY DAY WE USED ENCYCLOPAEDIAE AND WE LIKED IT. AND THE OXFORD ENGLISH DICTIONARY! ABSURDLY THOROUGH MICRO-PRINT EDITION WITH INCLUDED MAGNIFYING GLASS. I KNOW IT'S FROM THE 5Os and 6O dollars BUT IT'S WORTH IT! YOU KNOW IT IS! IT'S THE DEFINITIVE DESCRIPTIVE DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE! IT'S A WORK OF AAAAAAART!!!!!

>encyclopaediae >british spelling kekw

Is that even how greentext works, 4chan-user me? Also fuuuuuck offffffffff

>FORMATTING BITCH >also HAH HAH HAHAHAH >YOU'LL NEVER BE RID OF ME OVER-[name.] >hatehatehateseethecopeseethe

§YOU WANT US TO COOK FOOD BY BOILING IT? SEETHE AN EGG? AND C O P I N G IS A GOOD THING! WITLESS HACK!

Buddy. Really-Old me. That's not what she means by cope. Everyone knows you know that. And that definition of 'seethe' was archaic even in that dictionary you wanted. Probably.

§AND NOW WE'LL NEVER KNOW, WILL WE?

...We go to that bookstore plenty. It's literally the only game in town unless you count the antique store across the street that sells old books for way too much. And, really, I'm not paying 20 bucks for a copy of Kafka's The Trial when I could get the full set of Shakespeare's Comedies and Tragedies across the street for 40. Again. whydididothatwhydoesanyonetrustmewithmoneyaaaaejhakfhdfkla;

☹u ok ss☹

really? unicode, at a time like this? @--Λ-@

I'm fine I'm normal I'm fine I'm normal I'm not talking to myself this is just comedically being very silly and mean to myself on the internet, a totally sane thing to do yup. Anyway point is that dictionary's totally still gonna be there whenever we're in a better position to get it. That, and this Convention Of The Inner Symposium is getting wildly out of hand and also that's not an obscenely pretentious name shut up

hahahhaahahhahah wow that was really funny wasn't it folks. ha. ha.i'm drunker now! and it's 7:40 am now! and my extremities are really numb tingly! and i was super absurdly fucking hot but now i'm comfortably cool so that's nice. This is the best part of drinking! that's definitely a fine healthy and not weird thing to think about alcohol!

[wuxiaphoenix]

Isekai Frivolities

If I were ever tossed into another world, there are some things I’d want to introduce just for fun. One of those would be soda water.

What? Fizz is tasty. Bubbles help wake you up, with or without caffeine. They can help settle an unsteady stomach. They make it easier to hydrate. And the little sparks of carbonic acid on your tongue provide a refreshing hit of endorphins that really help with stress. On top of that carbonic acid is a weak but effective disinfectant. If you don’t have anything stronger, like alcohol or peroxide, it’s better than nothing.

(No, I do not advocate using soda for wound treatment. Adding a dilute sugar solution to potential bacteria is a Bad Idea. Now, club soda; no sugar, just minerals and bubbly water? That might help.)

Soda water’s actually one of the things I could imagine making off the top of my head if I were dumped in another world. All you need is a setup where you can bubble carbon dioxide through water - adapting a still might do it - and a vessel to mix carbonate and acid in to make the gas. Vinegar and baking soda works. Sulfuric acid and limestone also works... but is a bit more hazardous. Treat with caution.

(On the upside - if you’ve ever wondered if marble carvings are ecologically friendly? Marble is metamorphosed limestone, and the chips do get recycled. Sometimes into soda!)

Something I’d like that would be trickier to pull together is chili sauce. Vinegar and a sweetener are probably obtainable anywhere you’ve got humans, or even humanoids. Tomatoes and chilis? Either the new world has to have an analog of the Americas, or I’d need to get really lucky and be carrying seed packets on me when I was yeeted to another planet. Otherwise I’ll be experimenting with various fruits and hot spices, and likely very grumpy about it.

Denim would also be a nice thing to have. I’ve avoided a lot of cuts, scrapes, and thorn jabs due to a good pair of jeans. This I know less about, outside that it’s a particularly hardy weave of cotton twill. That might be enough info for someone else to figure it out. Eventually.

Finally, one of the things I’d really like to get going in any other world would be a lending library. In part because if I’m stuck in another world, I want to have an idea of what’s “common knowledge” and popular culture. Also because if any meddling supernatural power thinks they’re going to rid me of escapism just by dumping me in another world, they’d better think again!

What kind of small joys and useful tidbits would you want in an isekai?

[puddygeeks]

Wᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ Dᴇᴀᴅ Oʀ Aʟɪᴠᴇ - Sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ Tʜɪɴɢs, Eᴅᴅɪᴇ Mᴜɴsᴏɴ/OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5: Iᴍᴘᴜʟsᴇs

Masterlist

Episode: Pre season 4

Rating: Mature

Summary: Since she was five years old, Marcie Bell and Eddie Munson have been inseparable. There was never one without the other. That is, a near death experience with the Mind Flayer changed everything. Now, Marcie must navigate her newly realised feelings for Eddie, whilst facing down the Upside Down all over again. Whoever said love was easy?!

Fix it fic. There will be absolutely no Eddie Munson death here!

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OC

Status: Ongoing

My writing is entirely fueled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee  

Warnings: 𝑀𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡. 𝐷𝑟𝑢𝑔/𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜ℎ𝑜𝑙 𝑢𝑠𝑒, 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑡/𝑑𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑, 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡, ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡, 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑏𝑢𝑟𝑛, 𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑎, ℎ𝑖𝑔ℎ 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑎, 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ, 𝑏𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑈𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑤𝑛 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑦.    

Taglist: @toobsessedsstuff

A/N: I am so sorry for the massive delay in getting this published. It was a real struggle to make this chapter work and took many edits, but we got there in the end! As for my posting schedule, I actually just had my first baby a couple of weeks ago so life is complete chaos right now. I still absolutely plan to write when I can but I have no idea when that will be. Thanks for sticking with me anyway. Every kudos and comment means the world to me <3

♫  ♠  ♫  

Chapter 5

Robin and Steve looked equally uneasy as they followed Marcie into the dive bar. Their feet stuck to the floors as they walked, residue of spilt drinks or other substances that didn’t bear thinking about now decorating the soles of their shoes. Though there was a gig planned, it was surprisingly quiet with only around 10 drunks hanging around by the bar. However, they could only shake their heads in bemusement at the way Marcie strolled in and waved at several of the audience as if she was in her element. 

Marcie approached the bar with confidence, chuckling at how lost her friends looked behind her. Despite being underage, she knew all of the tricks to a good night out at this venue and simply ordered three colas, planning to top hers up from the flask that was hidden in the back of her jeans. She gestured for the other two to come take their glasses when she caught the eye of a familiar older customer who sat on a stool nearby.

“I was starting to wonder where you were.” Terry called as he wandered over to her side with a teasing smile. “Your boy’s playing tonight. He was looking nervous without you.”

“He’s not my boy, Terence.” Marcie scolded lightly, her words making as little impact on the clearly drunk man as usual.

“Sure he’s not and I’m stone cold sober.” He laughed, before turning to nod toward the others. “You bought friends? Almost enough to count as an actual audience here now. Let me know if any of you want a beer. My treat.” 

“Thanks for the offer, but you know I always have my own supply. Besides, I think I’m the only alcoholic in my crew.” Marcie winked, breaking away from the well meaning bad influence to rejoin her friends who seemed utterly horrified by the interaction.

“You hang out with a lot of creepy old men who like to get teens drunk?” Steve questioned whilst she pulled out her flask to mix a drink.

“Yes, actually. This is the Corroded Coffin fan club. Welcome.” She teased, breaking into a laugh at the way that Steve’s brows shot up. “You should really learn not to judge a book by its cover, Harrington. Terry used to babysit my mom. He’s one of the good ones. He’s still pretty well known for keeping an eye on the youngsters here. I got spiked a couple years ago and he took care of me until he could hand me over to Eddie.”

“By buying underage kids alcohol?” He questioned, noticing that even Robin was slipping her the side eye for this.

“As if you never drank underage.” She scoffed, before rolling her eyes at his judgement. “Terry’s policy is simply that it’s better to allow people to break the rules in a safe way, by getting weak, unspiked drinks from someone who will ensure they don’t get wasted, than to leave them to get taken advantage of by trying to find their own way.”

Clearly not entirely convinced by this story, Steve simply shook his head and glanced at Robin, who made a concerted effort to disguise how uncomfortable she was. Marcie shrugged it off as she led them closer to the stage ready for the show. After years of hanging out with Robin, she’d got used to having to remind herself that not everyone grew up in the same white trash environment that she and Eddie did. Things that seemed mundane to them were shocking to others and she had learned that most times it was easier to agree to disagree.

“I do appreciate you guys coming with me tonight. I know this isn’t really your scene.” She remarked, flashing them both a smile that seemed to at least partially calm them. “This place gets a bad rep, but it’s really fine. Most of the sketchy people won’t arrive until much later. And if at any point it gets too weird for you, we’ll leave. Okay?”

“I’d still rather if either of you wanted a beer you asked me.” Steve pointed out, earning a sceptical look from both girls. “You’re right. I’ve been drinking for years, but not through creepy old guys. I have a fake ID.”

“Okay, Mom.” Robin groaned, easily earning a snigger from Marcie.

The unexpected comment eased the tension in the group, and in little time at all Robin and Steve had already engaged in one of their usual spats. Marcie was content to sip on her drink, only half listening to their conversation as she watched the empty stage. 

There was a far stronger feeling of apprehension in her stomach tonight as she waited for the band to appear. As well as she had done until now, she was painfully aware that there was no time more challenging for keeping her attraction under control than when watching Eddie perform. No matter how badly she wanted to be here for him, there was something about him playing guitar that drove her absolutely wild every time. 

A couple of drunken cheers echoed around the draughty space, announcing the arrival of the band and as her friends finally stopped bickering to position themselves on either side of her, Marcie steeled herself. 

From the moment that Eddie stepped foot on the stage, he began scanning the area with a nervous expression. It only faded to a relieved smile when his gaze landed on her face. In an instant, she knew that she had made the correct decision by pushing herself to attend and couldn’t even bring herself to imagine how crushed he would’ve been if she’d missed it. 

With his confidence restored, Eddie moved to the front of the stage to get the crowd hyped up. It wasn’t long before the usual band of drunks were cheering together to the songs and even Robin and Steve found a way to enjoy themselves, as he returned from the bar with beers for the two of them whilst he nursed another cola. 

Marcie finished her drink rather quickly as a result of repeatedly catching Eddie’s eyes and being unable to withstand feeling as if he was singing directly to her. There was no denying that she would find the man attractive if he was wearing a garbage bag, but whilst dressed in his ripped jeans and shirt, his hair thrashing in the dim backlighting of the stage, she could have fallen in love with him all over again.

Eddie strutted the stage with a confidence befitting any rockstar, his husky voice blasting from the speakers and sending shivers down Marcie’s back. Just as she felt as if she could hardly keep her thoughts clean, he descended into an epic guitar solo that drew her attention to his hands. Watching the way that he worked the strings, the spotlights reflecting off his signature rings, she found herself biting her lip.

By half way through the set, she gave up on mixing drinks and instead took sips directly from the flask in an effort to suffocate the rising desire in her chest. Between songs, Robin bumped into her side and flashed her a concerned expression.

“I don’t want to kill your buzz, but you might want to slow down on the drinks, Marce.” She fretted, glancing to Steve for backup. “I know you can hold your liquor, but I’m starting to fear for your liver.”

“My liver has been well trained. Believe me, it can handle it.” Marcie insisted. “Besides, it’s all part of my tactic. I’m having a drink every time that I think of non-friendship thoughts. It’s helping me to bury them.”

“Actually, I think it might be bringing them out.” Steve argued and she turned to face him with confusion. “You’re totally giving him bedroom eyes.” He added, his accusation supported by Robin snorting with laughter.

“I am not!” Marcie gasped, whipping her head between the pair of them in horror.

“You kinda are.” Robin choked out between breaths. “You look like you want to climb up there and devour him. Why do you think he keeps looking at you?” She cackled as she necked the last of her drink and put the empty glass aside as if she didn’t ever want to touch alcohol again.

“It’s okay, Robin. We’re clearly imagining it.” Steve interrupted with an equally amused smile. “Just like the little bit of drool you’ve got right there.” He continued, pointing to the corner of Marcie’s lips.

“Where? Right here?” She crooned mockingly, before reaching out to punch him in the arm. “You two suck.”

♫  ♠  ♫

Eddie struggled to concentrate during the cleanup of their set. Though he’d been delighted to find that Marcie had attended tonight, he couldn’t deny the fact that her bringing Harrington along had gotten under his skin. Sure, it added to their usually sparse audience, but he couldn’t stand the thought that she might use one of their gigs as an opportunity for a date.

Then again, if that was the case then Harrington had absolutely failed to get her attention throughout the night. He held a smug satisfaction for the way that Marcie’s gaze had been glued to him during the entire set. Now that he thought about it, perhaps that had been the cause of his distraction. He felt somewhat strange for thinking it, but he could’ve sworn there was something different in her eyes tonight, something strangely resembling desire.

Eddie shook his head to dislodge the thought before it could settle, rushing to finish the job so that he could assess the dynamic between the pair for himself. It took longer than usual to pack up without his head in the game, but eventually they finished loading the van and he was able to re-enter the bar. He pushed through the crowd that had begun to gather for the next act looking for any sign of the trio, but was only able to find Marcie and Robin near the door.

Robin was standing protectively by Marcie, who was half sat, half leaned against a bar stool clutching her ankle. They both seemed in high spirits still, talking loudly and laughing together, but something seemed off about his friend that caused him to rush over to join them.

“Hey, Marce. Are you alright?” He blurted the moment that he reached them and Robin startled as if she hadn’t noticed him coming.

“Eddie!” Marcie breezed, turning to him with a familiar sense of delight that indicated she had been drinking rather heavily. “I’m totally fine. I might’ve just missed the step coming out of the restrooms and given my ankle a little roll. Fortunately, the whiskey has numbed all pain.”

“Unfortunately, she’s walking like a wounded animal.” Robin cut in, throwing her a long suffering look that hinted she had been the one to force her into a seat. “She’s sprained it, but apparently doesn’t think that should stop her from dancing. We’re gonna take her home before she really hurts herself.”

Eddie chuckled at her enthusiasm, especially when she stuck out her tongue at Robin. It was exactly the kind of behaviour he would expect from drunk Marcie. She was the kind of person who wouldn’t let anything ruin a great night, but judging from the heaviness of her blinks and the slight sway in her position, they were correct in deciding that the time had come to remove her.

“Getting high of your own supply again, Hells Bells?” He teased, a fond smile filling his lips.

“You know it.” She answered with a devious expression, opening her jacket to reveal the trusty flask he’d bought for her last Christmas. “You guys were great tonight. You really tapped into your rockstar performance. The way you handled that guitar-”

“-Had girls swooning. Other girls!” Robin interjected.

Eddie raised his brows in surprise at her flirtatious attitude, wondering exactly what she would’ve said if not interrupted. Robin made a conscious effort to catch her friend's attention, her eyes wide in warning as if silently instructing her to keep quiet. Marcie giggled to herself, amused by her antics.

Eddie opened his mouth to question how they were getting home, when the answer rushed through the door. Harrington seemed flustered as he jogged to Robin’s side, barely even noticing Eddie’s presence as he turned his concern to Marcie.

“I’ve moved the car out front, but security is only giving me a couple of minutes so we need to be quick.” He explained, looking sceptical of her speed when she stood and immediately winced. “Okay. You know what? Hold on.”

Without warning, he crouched to lift Marcie and threw her gracelessly over his shoulder. 

“Steve!” She squealed in shock, before releasing a slurred laugh as she dangled over his back. Eddie felt his temper rising at how casually he handled her and when Robin moved to wave goodbye, he couldn’t prevent the words from escaping.

“Woah! Hold on a second.” He spat, grabbing Harrington’s arm to hold him in place. “What’s your plan here? You can’t take her home like that. Her mom will freak.”

Whilst Harrington focused on analysing him, Robin appeared as if she had only just considered this problem. Eddie held his rival’s gaze, struggling to contain the need to rip Marcie out of his grip as he willed himself to use his words instead. His hands clenched at his sides as he forced his attention away from the places that Harrington was gripping her.

“He’s right. Her mom is cool with most things, but she’ll be pissed that she got drunk enough to injure herself. She at least needs some time to sober up.” Robin conceded, drawing the attention of Harrington who observed her with confusion. “I could take her back to mine?”

“Yeah? Your parent’s cool with your friends getting too wasted to walk?” Eddie questioned, waiting a few moments for Robin to shake her head in a defeated manner.

“I’m fine!” Marcie slurred, attempting to fidget out of the tight hold. “And perfectly capable of my own choices, thank you. Put me down, Steve!”

“She can crash at mine.” Harrington suggested, ignoring the squirming of the girl on his shoulder despite Robin’s obvious disapproval. “I’ve got a spare room and my parents are away. I’ll drive her home in the morning. No harm, no foul.”

“Absolutely not!” Eddie growled, his voice filled with an intensity that caused both of the people before him to flinch. “Look, I’m the one who lives closest. I’ll drive her back to mine, she can put her foot on ice, hang until she’s sobered up and walk back when she’s ready.”

Marcie’s friends turned to face him with scepticism, as if they were aware of something that he was not. They didn’t answer this suggestion for a few moments, instead peering at each other in silent conversation, until Marcie gagged from being held on her stomach and Robin grew tired of watching Harrington hold her captive.

“Steve, put her down before she pukes all over you.” She warned, reaching out to assist him in lowering her to the ground delicately so that she wouldn’t fall. “I can tell my parents I’m staying at Marcie’s and come back with you. You’ve still got a few movies from the store to catch up on. We can make it into a sleepover. What do you think, Marce?”

There was something about the way that Robin pushed this idea on her friend, gripping her shoulders to focus her attention, that didn’t sit right with Eddie. Behind her, Harrington gave her a meaningful look too, as if they were both encouraging her toward the decision. Though he was sure that their intentions were good, he couldn’t deny the feeling that she wasn’t being given a choice and couldn’t understand why they would blatantly ignore his offer.

“Guys, as much as I love your company between work and school, I think I’ve seen quite enough of you lately.” Marcie answered, her words bleeding into each other from the effects of the whiskey. “I want to go with Eddie. He’ll take care of me.” 

For a few moments, Eddie faltered as she turned her half lidded gaze to him with a dozy smile. His heart skipped a beat, hardly able to believe that she had so clearly chosen him and he couldn’t help returning her smile.

“If that’s what you want, then I’d be happy to have you.” He offered, relishing the way that her eyes lit up at his words. “She can take my bed if needed. It’s only a short walk home and Wayne’s working tonight so no one even has to know that she was there.”

“Oh, I’m sure her mom would love that.” Robin grumbled, her arms crossed over her chest as she seemed to struggle to decide whether she was more annoyed by his behaviour, or Marcie’s.

“Actually, she’s pretty cool about her staying out, as long as she’s kept updated. Just pass a message that she’s staying at yours. Her mom won’t even care.” He countered, noticing that Robin didn’t seem convinced. “She slept at mine when she got spiked, too. I know how to cover for her. It’ll just sound better coming from you.”

Harrington nudged her side, quirking his brow in silent question and Robin sighed in defeat as she noticed that her friend was still smiling at Eddie in delight.

“It’s her decision. She trusts him, she said she wants to go with him, so we should respect that.” Harrington muttered, barely loud enough for Eddie to hear as he leaned closer to check on Marcie.

“I parked at the back to load up the equipment. You gonna be okay to walk that far?” He asked in a hushed tone, and she rolled her eyes.

“I only sprained my ankle, Eddie.” She chuckled, shaking her head at his concern. “It might take me a bit longer than usual, but the fresh air will do me some good anyway.”

“If you say so. I just didn’t want anyone accusing me of not treating a lady in the way that I should.” He teased, winking at her and noticing that a rosy blush spread across her cheeks.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with a lady, even if you found one.” She retorted, issuing a challenge without even realising it.

“Fine. She’s all yours.” Robin announced, turning back from whispering with her conspirator and Eddie couldn’t prevent a smug smile from spreading across his face.

“Alright, my lady. Your chariot awaits!” He announced, dipping down to meet her before she could protest.

When he lifted her from the ground he made a point of demonstrating that his treatment of her was far more careful than Harrington’s had been. He balanced her in a bridal style carry, pausing for a moment to reestablish his balance from the additional weight before navigating only slightly clumsily out of the door.

“You’re a nutcase, Munson!” Marcie giggled in his embrace.

Her arms came to rest around his shoulders and her head nuzzled into his neck, as if she were hiding from the cold of the nighttime air. It was strangely nostalgic to have her this close to him, but he knew that he couldn’t show too much joy for this situation as he felt her two friends following closely behind.

When he reached the van, he lowered her into the passenger seat, taking extra care to ensure that he didn’t bump her injured foot and turned to find Robin lurking behind him as if she was waiting to check on her. In a bid to keep the peace, he stepped aside to allow them to catch up whilst Harrington seized the opportunity to grill him on everything he’d had to drink tonight to prove that he was safe to drive.

Stepping closer to the van, Robin leaned against the door to examine her clearly incapacitated friend. Although she knew that she had promised not to hold her responsible for the events of the evening, she couldn’t help feeling as if she had somehow let her down by allowing her to end up in Eddie’s care and for her own peace of mind, she needed to confirm one final time that this was the correct decision. 

“Are you sure you’re good with this, Marcie?” She asked quietly, her brows knitting together in concern. “I thought you didn’t want to be alone with Eddie?” She questioned, noticing that in her current state Marcie seemed thoroughly confused at this suggestion.

“Eddie will look after me! Eddie always looks after me.” She stated in a tone of minor offence, but seeming to notice the worry in her friend’s face, she flashed her an understanding smile. “I’ll be fine, Robs. I promise. I’m just having a moment of weakness. This isn’t your fault. I’m not mad at you and I won’t be tomorrow. You can go home.”

Though reassured by her surprisingly clear consent, Robin hesitated for a few moments longer until she noticed Eddie making his way around to the driver's side. She quickly checked her friend's seatbelt, then faced her with a forced smile.

“Alright, Marce. You deserve a night off from your heartbreak.” She breathed, despite a tightening in her chest. “But if he does anything to upset you, I’m going to take a page from your book and come after him with a baseball bat. Capiche?”

“Capiche.” Marcie laughed. “Night, Robs.”

♫  ♠  ♫

Eddie had his hands literally full with attempting to coordinate unlocking the door to his trailer, whilst also keeping Marcie upright. With only one hand available to grip her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and clung to her hip as she sagged against him, mentally willing the door to give him a break.

Unfortunately for him, the fresh air had only caused the alcohol in her system to take further effect and she seemed significantly more drunk than she had at the bar. Now he had her complete lack of inhibitions to contend with alongside her injury.

Without warning, the door swung open and they practically fell inside, Eddie barely managing to catch Marcie before she face-planted the floor. He paused to prop her against a wall, instructing her not to move before turning back to lock up for the night.

He was so distracted with the task that he failed to even notice her moving around behind him. In fact, he was practically completely lost in his own thoughts on his next move as he seemed to only just have considered how strange this situation was after she had been avoiding him for weeks. 

It occurred to him now that he might have scored the perfect opportunity to ply the truth from her, but a small, niggling part of him wondered if the truth was really something that he wanted to hear. Not fully present in the moment, Eddie turned slowly toward the living room and slid off his denim jacket, followed by his leather jacket, throwing them both onto the couch where he realised he would likely be sleeping tonight. 

It was only when he spun back to where Marcie had been standing that it dawned on him something was wrong, something he never would have imagined in a million years would happen to him. He froze to the spot, his eyes widening to an extent that he was sure they hadn’t ever before.

In the time that she’d been unsupervised, Marcie had dropped her jeans to the ground and stepped out of them. Her t-shirt was already making its way over her head, thankfully giving way to a tight silk camisole that protected at least some of her modesty. However, the length of this garment failed to cover the very small pair of black lace panties that were currently on display to him, cutting over her perfect ass in a way that made his mouth fall open.

Eddie wanted to speak, to say anything to interrupt her, but the words seemed to fail him. He stuttered the syllables, desperate to prove to himself that he wasn’t a creep, but no sound emerged. Instead, he found himself staring as she threaded her hands under the delicate straps of her cami to fish out a bra that matched the panties, throwing it onto a dining chair in a mind blowing method that somehow kept her breasts covered the entire time.

Unable to allow this to continue any further, Eddie suddenly sprung into action as he leapt forward to grab her arms before she could remove anything else.

“Woah, woah!” He cried as he hurried into her space and she startled as if she had only just realised that he was present. “Christ, stop! What are you doing?”

“Eddie!” She gasped in surprise. “Don’t be a perv! Get out of my room.” She slurred her words, but the annoyance in her face cracked some of the tension between them.

“You’re in my trailer, Marce.” He chuckled, before his gaze was drawn downward by her attempting to cross her arms over herself despite her complete lack of coordination.

Through the thin fabric of the cami, Eddie caught sight of something he knew he absolutely should not have seen. The smallest sparkle of silver was visible on either side of her chest, its placement easily translating to Eddie who had spent more than his fair share of time staring at alternative models in magazines.

Eddie’s mouth rapidly became dry and he struggled to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat. He willed himself not to stare, already noticing that his pants seemed tighter and he shifted his grip on Marcie to hold her slightly further from him. He strained to think about anything other than the undeniable nipple piercings she had that were wreaking havoc on his mind, tearing his gaze from her altogether before he could say or do anything that he would later regret.

“Fuck me.” He cursed under his breath as he released her to search the room for anything that could remove the distraction.

At the bottom of a pile of old clothes, he managed to find a practically vintage trucker t-shirt of Wayne’s that was several sizes too big. Throwing it roughly over Marcie’s head, he was relieved to find that it covered both the piercings and her panties, the length coming down to her knees on her thin frame. 

“Better.” He choked out in a voice that was obviously strained, but Marcie seemed entirely too inebriated to notice. “Come on. You need some sleep.”

“M’not tired.” She grumbled, rubbing at her eyes and spreading an exceptional amount of black eye shadow all over the back of her hand.

Despite already being stained with more substances than Eddie cared to name, he worried how his sheets would fare against this amount of dark makeup. Unsure what he would be able to supply to assist in properly removing it, he decided that it was better for her to discover tomorrow morning that he’d at least tried to meet her needs.

With a heavy sigh, he wrapped an arm around her waist to lead her toward the bathroom. Squeezing into the tight space, he leaned her against the counter and busied himself with searching for a clean washcloth. After soaking it under the tap, he returned his attention to her face as he attempted to push aside her unruly locks. 

“You have so much hair.” He remarked, pushing as much as he could behind her ears to prevent drenching her. 

“Rich coming from you.” She scoffed and he could only smile at this entirely fair retaliation. 

“Alright. Sit still. I need to get some of this war paint off.” 

Marcie attempted to argue with him, but was quickly silenced when he pushed the cloth to her face. Regardless of his best efforts to be delicate, he couldn’t help some degree of clumsiness in his movements. The more that he wiped at her skin, the more the makeup seemed to simply push around and when he rinsed the cloth under the water, he chuckled under his breath at the state of her.

Instead of revealing clean skin as he’d hoped, she now resembled a child who had been wearing face paint in the hot summer sun. Concentrating his energy on the black eyeshadow and dark lipstick that would undoubtedly get everywhere, he managed to remove a reasonable amount, but eventually had to accept that soap and water couldn’t hold up against the staining under her eyes. 

When he finished, he rinsed the cloth again of the murky water, before he was distracted at the sight of the only hair tie that he owned. He spun Marcie around to face the mirror so that he could go to battle against her waist length locks. 

“Eddie! What did you do?” She slurred, leaning closer to the mirror whilst he gently yanked her back by her hair. “I look like a panda!” 

“Pandas are cute.” He chuckled, but the moment he removed his grip on her when he finished his task, she whipped around to flash him an annoyed pout. “Only so much I can do with soap and water. I don’t exactly have many lady visitors, Marce. You can’t say I didn’t try.” 

Marcie moved to storm out of the bathroom, but lost her balance almost immediately and Eddie shook his head as he swooped her into his arms again. 

“Easy, Sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed.” 

It was a challenge to navigate the narrow halls of the trailer with her laid across his chest, but he stuck with it anyway, knowing that it would take far longer to herd her back toward the bedroom. He almost tripped over the mess of clothes on the floor, barging his way over to the bed where he lowered her down as if she was made of glass. 

Finally tired enough to stop fighting him, Marcie sank into place as he lifted the covers over her in satisfaction. Her eyelids began to flutter closed from the moment that her head hit the pillow and he couldn’t resist hesitating for a moment, gently stroking the hair back from her face. However, when he turned to leave, she startled awake. 

“Where are you going?” She gasped, gripping onto his wrist with as much strength as she could muster and he spun back around to face her with a fond smile. 

“The couch.” He stated in a nonchalant manner. “You can have the bed, my lady.” 

“No. I don’t want you to go.” She slurred, causing Eddie to freeze to the spot for the second time tonight. 

Her brows were furrowed together with stubbornness, as if she hadn’t imagined for a second that he would leave her until now. By stark contrast, he had been deadly serious when he advised her friends of the sleeping arrangements. Sure, they had shared a bed before, but things were different nowadays. He hadn’t considered doing that again tonight at all and the very thought caused him to gulp. 

“I’m not gonna be far, Marce. Just the other side of the trailer.” He chuckled awkwardly, but her expression was unmoved. “You’re really drunk and I’m trying to respect your space. I really don’t mind the couch.” 

“But…I don’t want to be alone.” She admitted, her determination giving way to a vulnerability that caused his breath to catch in his throat. “Please stay with me, Eddie. Like old times.” 

Eddie’s stomach flipped at her words, his mind struggling to decide what the moral thing was to do. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in this exact situation with her in the past. He’d slept at her side when she got spiked, despite being sober himself, but that was mostly because he was afraid she might choke to death during the night. Then there was the night when the power went out and she ran to his trailer in fear of the storm. She’d demonstrated that she was comfortable with this arrangement before, but since she’d been avoiding him, he was unsure whether she would regret it in the morning.

He fidgeted on the spot as he agonised over the decision, but when his eyes met hers again, he felt his resolve begin to crumble. There was a sadness in them that he hadn’t seen before, something deep and hidden that made it almost impossible to deny her. He glanced back toward the couch again, before a defeated sigh left his lips. 

“Alright. You win.” He mumbled, watching as visible relief washed over her. 

Eddie switched off the light then removed his jeans, leaving his T-shirt on. He nudged Marcie to move her over so that he could climb in beside her, and was careful to ensure that he left plenty of space between them. It felt strange to stay so far apart, when they had spent the night snuggled into each other for warmth one winter when they couldn’t afford to heat the trailers. 

In the silence of the night, he stared at the ceiling unable to sleep. Where this would previously have been comfortable, he found himself feeling self conscious, worrying that he might have overstepped by bringing her to his home at all. The only sound to distract his wandering mind was Marcie’s breathing that grew steadily deeper and slower. 

Eddie couldn’t be sure how long they had laid there, when she shuffled closer to his side. Delicately, she leaned her head against his shoulder, one of her hands wrapping around his upper arm in a reserved embrace. Without thinking, he leaned his head toward her too, his jaw coming to rest on the top of her head and allowing him to breathe in the sweet scent of her hair. 

“I miss this.” She whispered, her voice barely even registering against the crushing silence of his bedroom. 

“Me too.” 

The confession escaped before he could stop himself, relieved when he felt her smile against him. Her breathing grew heavier still, indicating that she was battling against sleep and he debated whether it would be taking advantage of her condition to ask why she had been avoiding him. 

“I wish it could be like this all the time.” She admitted in a slow, sleepy voice and Eddie couldn’t resist the opportunity that she had presented him with.

“It can.” He muttered. “I don’t know why it ever changed.” 

“Because of the secret.” She slurred between deep sighs that almost sounded as if she was talking in her sleep. 

“What?” He questioned, his stomach dropping with nerves. “What secret?”

After a few moments without a response, he lifted his head to glance down at her, only to find that she had finally succumbed to her alcohol driven exhaustion. Eddie cursed under his breath. If he had thought that he was going to struggle to sleep before, he had no idea how energised this teasing comment would make him. 

He looked down at her dozing off, her face tucked into him as if it was the most comfortable place that she could be. It was the longest that he’d ever been able to stare at her, especially this close. Even with her hair messed up and eyeliner smeared down her face, he couldn’t help thinking how beautiful she was. It took a few more moments of admiring her before he acknowledged that a fleeting thought of kissing her at the back of his mind had grown to be all consuming. 

Wait. Shit! 

This was Marcie he was thinking about. The same girl who had given him wedgies when they were kids; the one who stuck chopsticks in her mouth and did walrus impressions; who almost got arrested with him one summer for a ridiculous firework prank and got sick on the waltzers at the last fair. She was his best friend, his partner in crime. He couldn’t ever risk doing anything to jeopardise what they had. 

However, he couldn’t deny what he felt as he noticed how peaceful she looked sleeping on his shoulder. He wanted to kiss her. 

Now that he considered it, it wasn’t the first time this thought had occurred to him. There had been numerous moments in the last few years where he had found himself wondering what it would be like to cross the boundary of friendship. Each time they had come close, it had been harder to pull himself back from the edge. The last time she slept over, he’d had to put himself through a cold shower after she left to try to clear his head. 

As hard as he tried to deny that anything had changed between them, he supposed it wasn’t unreasonable for him to have doubts. She was arguably the only person who he had allowed to get close to him in his entire life. She knew his darkest secrets, and he knew hers. They had comforted each other during the worst times, celebrated together during the best. It was inevitable that she would become important to him and it was only natural that he might wonder at the nature of their bond. It didn’t have to mean that he wanted more. 

Marcie shuffled closer in her sleep, her arm draping across his waist and he lifted his arm to allow her to snuggle into his chest. At this angle her head tilted slightly toward him, positioning her face exactly into the moonlight that streamed in through the window. 

In the dim light of the room, Eddie found himself utterly fixated on her lips. He was consumed by the thought of kissing her, acutely aware of every part where their bodies touched. Delicately, he reached out to tuck her fuzzy hair behind her ear, lingering his touch for a few seconds on her jaw. 

Her lips parted for a moment, a drunken mutter escaping that he couldn’t quite make out. His heart leapt into his throat as he replayed the sound in his mind and was almost able to convince himself that she had said his name. He watched as her lashes fluttered indicating that she was dreaming, only finding himself hoping that it was about him. 

Regardless of what he might tell himself, one thing was clear to Eddie at that moment: he had already passed the boundary of friendship a long time ago.

[alphacrone]

the negroni spaglioto with prosecco obsession I understood. this.....less so

idk why espresso martinis are all over social media right now but it’s starting to feel like gentrified 4loko

[littlechameleonguy]

Using the good days preparing for the bad ones

This applies to both physical and mental health and are things I (try to) do to get through my bad days because honestly on these days there is only little I can do.

Part 1: Food and Hydration

The most important thing I can do to prepare for bad days is to have food at home. I'm not going to buy groceries when I'm sick or depressed so it has to be at my place or I wouldn't eat at all. (That's the law. It's really not my fault.) It doesn't have to be healthy food tbh it just has to be there and quick to prepare. If I have the energy to chop some veggies and make a bow - great but I probably won't. Usually even getting up to my fridge will be a challenge so I'm glad if the food is pretty much ready. So having supplies is a blessing. Quick frozen meals to heat up are perfect. Even frozen pizza or mozzarella sticks are fine. It's still better than no food at all. Even protein shakes are better than no food.

Snacks are great too. Having nuts, fruits, protein bars and other stuff around is so helpful. I don't even know I'm eating but my body will get some energy. I always have snacks stored at both my home and my work place so I always have something. (Chips and chocolate are fine too don't let anyone tell you otherwise.)

For drinking water it's pretty much the same thing. I wouldn't have the energy to get some so it has to be around. I personally drink water from the tab but this applies either way. Big containers help a lot. If I have a big glass I don't have to refill it that often and I will drink more. I also have a lot (a lot a lot) of water bottles and to go cubs. Therefore there is always one around when I need it. I have some at home, at work, in my car, in my most used bags. (Remember to clean them from time to time though. Another thing to do on the good days but that's a whole other point.)

If drinking water is hard there are alternatives. Drinking tea is also fine or putting some fruits in the water to mix it up helps too. There are also these air up bottles around that seemed to help. I personally don't need those but heard they help a lot. But honestly same as with the food: anything is better than nothing. So if the drink is the sugary lemonade so be it. We can make up for it another day. Today we just want to survive.

Careful though with the caffeine intake. Mine was really bad a couple of years ago and my body is still paying the price. I still drink coffee. I can't live without coffee but I'm more careful now. after two cups or later in the evening I change to decaf coffee. (It's really not that bad just find the right ones.) Also when I'm already anxious I try to cut caffeine altogether. I don't really drink energy drink but here applies very much the same...

Drinking alcohol on bad days for me personally is always a bad idea as well. So I try not to do that at all. Here applies the opposite of from the things above. If it's not around it's a lot less likely I might drink it. So my alcohol supplies at home are very limited...

Lastly, (and honestly that helps the most even though it's the hardest) talk. This will apply to more than just the food stuff but I really want to list it here because it is a game changer. I've talked to the people around me about my eating and drinking water issues on good days so now they can help me on the bad ones. Roommates are the best at this by far. If they know you're not able to buy or prepare food yourself they can help and honestly most do. Pretty much the same happens with coworkers. Some of my coworkers know that I'm really bad at staying hydrated and eat when I'm stressed so they get me stuff too when they buy themselves food and ask me if I want another tea as well. I'm not working there for long so it's not a trust thing and I haven't exactly explained my issues but almost everyone knows that staying hydrated is hard. Also it sometimes results in people asking you out to lunch or coffee and that is really nice if my health isn't too bad for this.

[seafoam-icecream]

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“Sorry, I don’t drink. Alcohol and superpowers don’t mix well.”

“I see. Then, how about a coffee?”

“Bad idea. The last time I had caffeine, it…it got pretty ugly. Soda is out of the question too, in case you were going to offer. Too much caffeine and sugar.”

“I’m sorry. It must be hard to live like this. But you wouldn’t have any problem with a water bottle, would you?”

“No, water I can do.”

[lipstickstainz]

true lies - s. r. (14/15)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.

Chapter Summary: Leaving is the only option - right?

Warnings: angst, blood (but not much), break up, drug addiction (mentioned), alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: hello lovies. I'm back and my mind is full of ideas! I hope you like it! gif not mine.

Series Masterlist

previous chapter

You watch the coffee in your cup as if it has all the answers for the future hidden in the caffeine. It's eight o'clock in the morning, and this is already your third cup of the sacred liquid, and you're sure it won't be your last. The shadows under your eyes are a sign of your nightmares that haunted you last night. The fact that you have them doesn't bother you, after all, you've been going through the procedure for months. What bothers you is the fact that you couldn't wake yourself up this time. You've gotten in the habit of pinching yourself when it would get too painful, but something stopped you last night. And the fact that you don't know what exactly bothers you the most.

"Y/N." Emily's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you have to tear your gaze away from your coffee. "What do you think?"

All eyes are on you and out of nervousness you'd like to slide around in your chair, but suppress the urge. You haven't been listening for the last few minutes, too busy with your own thoughts and problems that you can't answer her. The case is supposed to be your last, and you're trying hard to enjoy it and value the time with your friends, but really you're just waiting for it all to be over. Most of all, you want to pack your things and leave.

You barely noticeably shake your head for Emily to continue, and turn your attention back to your coffee, which must be cold by now, but that doesn't stop you from drinking it down to the last drop. Without saying anything, you get up from your chair to get another one, paying no attention to Emily's annoyed look. As you fill your cup in the precinct kitchen, she stands right next to you.

"You're not being very helpful, Y/N," she says coolly as you take a sip. You know her manner is all pretense, because in reality she's incredibly concerned. She only needs to look at your face once to know what's going on in your head, but she doesn't address it. She knows you'll talk to her when the time is right. But you're not sure that will ever happen. "I've already assigned the tasks. You stay here and work with Spencer to gather all the important information that may be relevant to Penelope's research." The look on your face says it all. You don't want to spend any time with Spencer, and certainly not alone, but Emily gives you no choice. Before you can say anything back, she disappears out the door with the others.

With your coffee, which you now wish had a strong shot of vodka in it, you make your way back into the conference room, where Spencer is bent over the table, passing pictures and notes back and forth. You stop in the doorway and watch him for a brief moment, and only then do you notice the narrow, red scratch on his face that stretches from his cheek to his neck. You squint your eyes. It hadn't been there yesterday after all.

"What happened?“, you ask as casually as you can as you sit down and set your cup down on the table. As Spencer looks at you questioningly, you point to his face. "Looks bad." Indeed it does, though it's just a scratch. There's bloody crust in a few places, contrasting in color with his pale skin. Something really got to him.

"Cut myself shaving“, he replies curtly, glancing again at the pictures in front of him. You haven't seen him in two years, don't actually remember who he is exactly, but you still know when he's lying. And when to stop asking and let it go. When Penelope calls, you discuss some stuff and you see Spencer scratching over the wound until it bleeds, which he doesn't seem to notice, which is why you stall Penelope on the phone and grab his hand as soon as the line goes silent. Astonished, he looks at you before looking at his fingers.

"Come with me“, you say briefly and don't even wait for him to follow you. You approach an officer and ask for a first aid kit, which is immediately made available to you. Spencer follows you uncertainly into one of the washrooms, where you already put on the disposable gloves from the box - you don't want any bacteria to get on the wound - and wet a towel from the towel dispenser. Reluctantly, Spencer leans against one of the sinks, waiting for your instructions.

"Tilt your head to the side a little, please." You take the damp cloth and gently dab along the scratch to remove the dried blood. Spencer has to swallow at the touch and you see his Adam's apple bob, and really it shouldn't be that attractive, unfortunately it is anyway. You have to concentrate because this is the closest you've been to him in years. You breathe in his scent, feel his warmth through your gloves, and can barely stifle a deep breath.

"How do you know how to do that?“, he asks softly as you disinfect the wound, and Spencer has to pull himself together to keep from reacting to the burning from the alcohol.

You look at him briefly before turning your attention back to the scratch. „Experience“, you reply, spreading some wound healing ointment over it before taking off your gloves and disposing of everything in the trash can. You then put the first aid kit back together. As you turn around, Spencer is standing right in front of you.

"You didn't tell me you were having nightmares“, he whispers, and confused, you look at him. There's concern in his gaze, and if you're not mistaken, a little affection too, but you push the thought aside, not letting yourself have hope. Hope has only harmed you lately you have not moved forward a bit.

You look once more at the scratch, and then into his warm eyes. "You didn't cut yourself shaving“, you count one and one together and clench your jaws. He doesn't need to answer. You did this to him, you just don't remember. The reason you didn't wake up is Spencer. He was probably holding you, reassuring you so much that your body turned off its protective mechanism. It had certainly been the last time he did that, and you hadn't been awake to enjoy it.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?“, he asks, wanting to reach for your hand, but you take a step back. You don't want him to touch you. You'd prefer it if you weren't in this situation at all. You'd prefer that you hadn't come back at all. None of this should have ever happened.

"It's none of your business anymore, Spencer." Your tone is cool and something in his face changes.

"I thought we were friends."

You have to suppress a laugh. Two years ago, you could have lived well with being friends with him. You were prepared for it then, wished it on him, and meant it sincerely. Only lately you've been through so much that you can't even imagine it anymore. The two years had been hell, but you are sure that you can't live next to him without being able to be with him. You can't watch him and Max be happy together, and even though his happiness is everything you want, you'd rather he be happy with you. But you can't tell him that, it would be unfair and selfish. So you just look at him.

Then you reach for the small suitcase and push past him towards the exit.

-

You're glad when the case is over and you arrive back at Quantico. It's been a week since you and Spencer spoke, and luckily for you, you've continued to be spared nightmares, for which you're quite grateful. Not that Spencer is going to join you in bed one more time to calm you down.

As you walk from the airfield back to the building, you fall back a bit, watching the team joke and laugh with each other despite their fatigue. Most of all, you'd like to leave right now without saying goodbye. Rip off the band-aid, without anesthesia. Short and painless. But your plan is foiled when Emily suddenly walks up beside you and puts a hand on your arm.

"We're going for a drink." She raises an eyebrow expectantly. Apparently she's waiting for you to decline the invitation, and all too gladly you'd like to meet her expectations, but it's almost certainly the last night you'll see each other, at least for an extended period of time, and short and painless wouldn't be fair to her - your best friend.

You smile at her. "You're paying for the first round."

Her eyes widen in delight, but before she can say anything back, Luke, who has overheard your conversation, interferes. "We're going out for drinks?" A grin spreads across his face, almost reaching his ears, and suddenly the rest of the team pricks up their ears. Luke's gaze is fixed on you. "I bet I can drink you under the table by now, Y/N."

„You can’t“, Matt replies, and you see Rossi smile to himself. "Last time you did that, you almost passed out after four shots."

"JJ got the drinks. Maybe she mixed something in“, Luke tries to defend himself, but the blonde raises her hands.

"I'm not responsible for your kindergarten drinking. But I'd love to see you try to drink Y/N under the table." She smiles at you and winks, and you can't help but grin. It feels good to know that all is well between you and the team, even though they know with a high probability that you won't be staying. You'd understand if they were mad at you, but that doesn't seem to be the case. JJ looks at Spencer, who is being less than forthcoming. "You coming, Spence?"

He risks a quick glance in your direction before adjusting the bag on his shoulder. He knows this will be your last night. And that you won't see each other again after this. "I think I'll sit this one out“, he replies curtly, but JJ nudges him and he gives her a dirty look.

"You can't avoid it, Spence."

You'd rather he'd gone home.

The first drinks are on Emily, as promised, and the ones after that are on Rossi, and it's actually not long before Luke is sitting at the table with a glass of water, wishing he'd slowed down. You grin at him from the dance floor where JJ and you are swinging your hips, and he sticks his tongue out at you before putting his head in his hands and sipping water through the straw in his glass.

JJ reaches for your hand and pulls you close before wrapping her arms around your neck. "I'm going to miss you“, she almost yells so you can hear her over the loud music. You smile weakly at her. There's a glint in her eyes, probably from the alcohol, and only now do you realize how much you're really going to miss her.

"I'm going to miss you too“, you reply, risking a quick glance in Spencer's direction. He's sitting next to Luke, looking completely out of place. You look back to JJ and without further ado, she puts her hands to your cheeks and presses a kiss to your mouth. When she pulls away from you again, she just grins at you. "What was that for?"

"I want you to know that we love you. We all do. Remember that when you're lonely, and call if you need anything. You are and always will be a part of our weird family."

You wait a brief moment before pulling away from her and disappearing into the ladies' room. As soon as the door slams shut, tears stream down your cheeks and you have to hold onto the edge of the sink to keep from breaking down. You were aware of how much the others would miss you, but hearing it from JJ only makes it more real. By leaving, you're not only leaving Spencer behind, but everyone else as well, and that's so selfish of you that bile rises inside you and you almost throw up. You wish you hadn't had those last two drinks.

"Y/N?" You don't have to turn around to know it's Spencer. You recognized his voice and can see him in the mirror above the sink.He's standing behind you, unsure of what exactly to do, which is why he buries his hands in his pants pockets and looks at you silently.

You wipe the smeared mascara from under your eyes before turning and leaning against the basin. "This is the ladies' room, Spencer. You're not supposed to be in here.“

"I'm right where I'm supposed to be“, he replies, but doesn't move from the spot. He watches you brush your hair out of your forehead and wipe at your hot face to get rid of the tears. "You don't have to go. You know that, right?"

You look up from your shoes, straight into his eyes. "Yes, I do."

You want to leave the washroom, but his fingers curl around your arm, holding you back. "Y/N ..."

"I can't stay, Spencer. I can't look at you without knowing that someone other than me is waiting for you at home. I can't watch you be happy without me. It's okay, really. It's just that I don't have the strength to watch it anymore." The words just bubble out of you, and for some reason you can't stop. But it feels good to say it out loud, even though you certainly shouldn't. "I love you, Spencer. I'll always love you. But I'm at the end of my rope." You shrug in exasperation. "I have to think about me. I can only think about me." Spencer's face contorts painfully, but you can't stop. "To think that you're about to go to Max's and do God knows what ..." You shake your head, as if it might drive the thoughts from your mind. "I feel like I - I - I can't breathe. Like I'm going to die. And I just can't take it anymore."

Spencer's hand comes away from your arm at your honesty, but only to grab your hand and pull you against him. You bounce against his chest, wanting to pull away, but he holds you tight and presses you to him with his other hand. Carefully, he places his palm against your cheek and gently strokes your skin with his thumb. "Please, don't go."

You look into his eyes, which have filled with tears. "Why not?"

You can practically see him struggling with himself. He wants to say something, but can't find the right words, so he presses his lips together and lets his forehead sink against yours. All he has to do is say it, and you'd throw all your plans out the window and stick around. Just a few words. But he doesn't say them. "I can't ..."

You take a deep breath before pulling away from him, disappointed. „Goodbye“, you whisper, before leaving him alone in the washroom.

-

Spencer sits uncertainly at the kitchen table, watching the tea bag with lemon balm in the cup in front of him. He doesn't actually like lemon balm, but he needs something to calm his nerves and get the trembling of his hands under control as he sits there searching for the right words.

The last time he had felt this helpless, Emily had just left his apartment and he had been about to make some phone calls. The first call would have been to a man who would have given him a different number. The second phone call would have been to a woman who would have transferred him. And the third number belonged to someone who would have given him what he was only too happy to get.

Many years ago, he had sworn to himself that he would never resort to it again. That he wouldn't need it. He would be stronger than the desire to feel nothing more. The only thing that had stopped him was that you would never wish that for him. That you had helped him then, had stood by him. He didn't want it to be in vain.

Spencer hates feeling so helpless, even though he actually knows exactly what he has to do now. That's why he sits in the kitchen in the middle of the night, cup of calming tea in hand, not daring to look at the woman sitting across from him. But he doesn't need to say anything either. She knows why he was at her door at such a late hour. They sit in silence, neither quite knowing what to do. Neither of them has been in this situation before. Spencer is glad she's the first to speak.

"So that's it." It's more of a statement than a question. Spencer nods silently, whereupon she purses her lips. "Because of her?"

Spencer looks up from his cup and looks directly at Max. Then he shakes his head. "No, not because of her."

She raises an eyebrow. "But what? Don't you dare give me that 'it's not you, it's me' tour. I've heard that one before."

Spencer has to think for a moment, find the right words, before he answers. "I've lost her so many times. I wouldn't survive it another time."

The two have known each other long enough. Max knows he's not exaggerating or meaning it metaphorically. He has told her about his addiction, and she had been very grateful at the time that he was so honest with her, even though they hadn't known each other long. Spencer knows that all of this is not healthy and psychologically quite far from reasonable and Maxine knows what she has gotten herself into. But no one could have guessed that it would end this way.

"I'm sorry." Spencer's voice sounds hoarse and raspy. He stands up and makes his way toward the apartment door.

"I hope you make it." There's so much honesty in her voice that Spencer has to smile sadly over his shoulder.Maxine doesn't deserve this. None of you deserve this.

The walk to Emily's apartment is short, but to Spencer it feels like an eternity. The train is late, which is why he actually starts running, afraid of missing his chance. He runs until his lungs are burning and his bag is banging painfully against his ribs.The few people left on the streets look at him askance, but he doesn't care. He's panting, barely getting his breath and wishing he was a little more athletic, but as he sprints around the next corner he can already see the building where Emily's apartment is located.

For a brief moment he considers taking a break, catching his breath, but he can't wait another second. Hopefully he's not too late.

He's not surprised that he can just walk into the building, even though he doesn't have a key. He sprints up the stairs, and runs down the hallways until he's gasping for breath and standing in front of the right door, his head high. He bangs on the door with a clenched fist, hoping it will open and he won't be too late. He can't be late. He can't be late.

Finally, the door opens, and for the first time in years, he can take a real breath.

"Y/N."

- taglist closed -

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[serioussideblog]

Furthermore, know that alcohol interacts negatively with a number of medications. This can range from getting drunk on a small amount of alcohol like it’s a large amount, to getting sick, to dying. And lots of things in between.

Lots of other drugs interact with medications. I know a person who has a heart problem because she didn’t know that the medication she takes to control her OCD has a negative interaction with caffeine. She can’t even have a cup of coffee anymore because it can exacerbate her heart problems and could potentially cause a heart attack. Some medications interact negatively with weed. Make sure to check those sorts of things if you’re going to be doing drugs.

Oh, and just know that alcohol is a carcinogen. So, uh…keep that in mind.

Nicotine is not good for you. It’s addictive, and high doses can cause poisoning. I’ve never smoked or vaped myself but I once had an experience of being accidentally exposed to nicotine in a high enough concentration to cause mild poisoning (mainly symptom being a horrible rash, because I was exposed via the skin). Some people say it’s easier to quit “harder” drugs than nicotine. Nicotine is a stimulant, it can make it harder to sleep for many people.

Don’t mix “uppers” and “downers”. Yes, this includes caffeine and alcohol. It’s a really bad idea to mix those.

If you’re going to experiment, make sure you are somewhere safe, know what you are getting into, know what to do if things go wrong, and have someone you trust nearby.

why do so many teenagers follow me. you know i do drugs right.

[rebelsandtherest]

*bursts in* NO DEPRESSO BRAIN FOR YOU

The idea that a bunch of the Nations (mainly Europe tbf but others too) have very bad caffeine addictions like they are not allowed to do hard drugs anymore so they took to soft drugs. Plus tell me that ppl like England and Germany actually sleep when they're meant to.

also the top 3 caffeine consumption nations are all nordics. Finland, Norway and Denmark

Thanks friend, it's been a looooong week

LOL honestly what nation doesn't have a vice or ten? Everyone's addicted to something, most of them have been through cycles of different addictions be it hard drugs or caffeine or the peppermints Arthur ate nonstop for like three years when he was trying to give up smoking. (He's mostly non-smoking now. Mostly.) And honestly what substance hasn't Alfred been addicted to at some point in time? Caffeine is a very common culprit for the more benign addictions the nations face.

And yes, I think the Nordics are potentially the most caffeine addicted. Weirdly, however, Sweden doesn't actually react to caffeine overload the way most do. I personally headcanon Sweden as hardcore neurodivergent / ASD, and the caffeine helps him keep a clear head and focus on whatever it is he needs to focus on in the moment. It calms him down, and on cold or rainy days he falls into the habit of drinking a cup of coffee by the fire and then promptly taking a nap. Before the physiology behind this was better understood, others saw it as something of a superpower, being able to lucidly focus for hours on end and then just... roll over and sleep.

Norway isn't all that sensitive to caffeine so he can drink quite a lot before he feels affected. Eventually he does get the jitters but has perfected the art of hiding it, and maintains that he is immune to caffeine's effects, mostly as a way to act superior to the other Nordics (mainly Denmark).

Denmark is someone who naturally acts like he's caffeinated even when he isn't, so adding more caffeine to the mix just turns up the dial. Denmark holding a half empty energy drink can and saying "So, I was thinking..." is how a lot of misadventures begin.

Finland is pretty average in terms of how sensitive to caffeine he is, but he overloads because he loves the feeling. Spikes his black coffee with vodka (or spikes his vodka with black coffee) and brings it into the sauna. Claims jitters will help keep him warm. Likes the "buzz". Likes to taste test new, unconventional caffeine products—seltzer, gummies, chocolate, etc—mostly for the novelty. While many people experience heightened anxiety when hyped on caffeine, it gives Finland something of a god complex that makes him combative and ready to fight anyone. Incidentally, this is also how he responds to alcohol, and the fact that he is so mild mannered and agreeable when he's sober, but can turn into a hardened war criminal when drunk or high always introduces an element of surprise of when and if he'll feel ready to fight god.

Iceland's preferred caffeine is coffee of all kinds, and he likes being able to brew a perfect cup at home. He will drink whatever type of coffee that suits him in the moment, even if this means iced coffee in the dead of winter or a hot latte when he's in shades and short sleeves. Once, after the Italian brothers told him he was making coffee improperly, he took a video of himself hanging a percolator on a spit he'd rigged over the edge of a lava flow. He doesn't say a single word in the video, just sets the coffee to brew over crusted-over molten lava. When the coffee begins to boil (which happens quite quickly) he flips the camera around on himself and holds up his middle finger. He sent the video to the Italian brothers. He's not sure what the Italian brothers think of it, but he counts it as a success because the three of them never spoke about coffee again.