#to me beer is not about the flavor but about the vibes

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 3: The Ones Who Died Without A Name]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, Jace is here unfortunately.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Holiday” by Green Day.

Word count: 6.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

The Tahoe runs out of gas just west of Ashland, Ohio, coasting to a stop along the shoulder of State Route 96, sapphire skies and cotton ball cumulus clouds, emerald fields of Swiss chard and beets slowly being nibbled bare by deer and rabbits, the inheritors of an abandoned earth.

“Well, that’s it,” Baela says, offhand, blasé, as if it’s not a disaster. You’ve sorted this out, it didn’t take long: there are people who aren’t allowed to panic. If they do, it’ll be like a dam crumbling, and the flood will burst through to drown everything, like when Noah’s wrathful God decided it was time for the world to start over. Baela can’t panic. Aemond can’t panic. And maybe you can’t either. Rio gives you a skeptical look—Are we really about to walk to Oregon?—and you slap his thigh encouragingly as you climb over him and out of the Tahoe.

“Everyone gets a gun,” Aemond says as he starts distributing them: Rugers for Rhaena, Baela, and Helaena (although she winces as she obediently takes the revolver, immediately tucking it away into her burlap messenger bag), .22s for Daeron and Aegon, Remington 12 gauges for Jace and Rio, who gives you his M9. You’re better with it anyway. Aemond’s Glock 20 is in a handmade leather holster he took from the cellar of the house back in Distant, Pennsylvania. Luke, still a potential zombie, will not be armed; but Aemond slings the strap of a .22 over his own shoulder for in case Luke recovers.

“Safeties on, right kids?” Rio goes down the line checking everyone’s gun. “Remember what we practiced, use your sights, don’t go pointing the barrel at anyone unless you’re okay with blowing a hole in them. The noise is risky, but getting bit is worse, so use your best judgment.”

“I don’t have any of that,” Aegon says, grinning.

Rio grabs Aegon’s sunburned face roughly and smacks a kiss onto his cheek. “I know, Honey Bun. Don’t you worry. Stick close and I’ll do your thinking for you.”

You spy it up the road a ways on the right, half-obscured by tree limbs: a white and orange sign, a logo shaped like a diamond. “Oh my God. It’s a Stewart’s.”

“A what?” Aemond asks, squinting at the sign. It’s late afternoon, and soon the sun will be sinking into the west like a drowning man through deep water, and like all prey animals you are restless without the promise of shelter.

“A Stewart’s Root Beer. They used to sell hot dogs and barbeque and all these neat soda flavors like key lime and black cherry. We had one where I grew up. That was the fancy place. You knew it was a good day if you ended up at Stewart’s for dinner.”

Aemond considers you, that subtle ceaseless curiosity. “We can stay the night there.”

“I thought we didn’t want to waste any daylight, Aemond,” Jace jabs as he helps Luke—miserable but presently human—out of the Tahoe. “That’s what you said when I wanted to check out that Barnes & Noble, Aemond.”

“What the hell do you need books for?” Aegon says. He’s grabbing clear CD cases out of the center console of the Tahoe. He pounds on the eject button and then punches the CD player when he realizes he won’t be getting that particular disk back. “Oh, you bitch! I had Shakira on there!”

“I would like to preserve my ability to read at higher than a fifth-grade level. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I was going to work for Sullivan & Cromwell, you know.”

“And now you’re a jobless loser just like me. Isn’t life funny?”

“You can’t be serious,” Baela says to Aegon, his arms full of CD cases. “You’re going to carry all those to California? You don’t even have a way to listen to them.”

“I’m not leaving my mixtapes.” Aegon shoves them into a U.S. Army backpack he found at Fort Indiantown Gap and then hoists it onto his back with a grunt.

Aemond tells Jace: “We only have a few hours until the sun starts going down. We don’t know what’s up ahead. We should take advantage of a safe place to sleep if it’s available. Getting caught out in the open after dark is the worst case scenario.”

“Whatever, Aemond. It’s your call. Everything is your fucking call.” Then Jace plods out into a field of rabbit-ravaged Swiss chard to relieve himself semi-privately, his back to the Tahoe.

“Hey, Chips Ahoy,” Aegon says, taking the folded-up map out of the pocket of his shorts, mint green plaid. “Want to tell me if there are any nuclear power plants near our route so we can steer clear of them and not get irradiated?”

“Uh, well, I don’t exactly have them all memorized…” You examine the map, hoping the black-ink cities will jog your memory, trivia you catalogued years ago, snippets you’ve heard from your fellow seamen. “Perry’s in Cleveland. We won’t be anywhere near that one. Fermi is up by Detroit.” You hesitate as your fingertips skate past Chicago. “Braidwood, LaSalle, and Byron are someplace between Chicago and Peoria, but I’m not sure where. And then there are a few others around the border of Illinois and Iowa. West of that, I don’t know. Rio?”

“Cooper’s in Nebraska, dead east of Lincoln. That’s all I got.”

Aegon is nodding, making notes on his map with a glittery forest green gel pen. “Cool, cool. If I don’t end up eaten or a zombie, I can look forward to being a sterile, glow-in-the-dark mutant.”

Luke frets: “What if we accidentally drink contaminated water or something?”

“Then you die an agonizing death, kiddo,” Rio says. “Your cells dissolve and you turn into human Jello and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.”

Luke swallows noisily. “Awesome.”

“You might just get cancer if the dose is small enough,” you tell him. Luke does not seem pacified. Rhaena gives him a sip of warm Coca-Cola from a plastic bottle from the Wawa.

Jace comes trudging back to the road, zipping up his khaki chino shorts. “Alright, are we ready?”

Helaena is gazing solemnly out over the fields of green leaves, red roots that grow like arteries into the soil. “We should try to find antivenom.”

“Antivenom?” Aemond asks, distracted as he makes sure nothing of importance was left in the Tahoe. The keys are still dangling from the ignition; you won’t need them. There’s no breathing the Tahoe back to life. There’s no returning to Aemond’s house back in Boston. There is only the West, beckoning you to cross rivers and plains and mountains to join her, and to do it as people did two hundred years ago, no cars, no phones, no escape hatches. The only way out is through.

“For the snakes,” Helaena says.

Aemond stares at her. The stitches in his face are dissolving as the flesh weaves back together, jagged maroon scar tissue, beautiful savage ruins, landscapes of improbable survival. “Helaena, antivenom has to be refrigerated. Even if we miraculously found some, it wouldn’t be useable.”

She nods, eyes wide and glazed, still peering into the fields, into the earth.

~~~~~~~~~~

A hand brushing the loose strands of hair out of your face, a whisper through the dissipating indigo of sleep: “Guess what today is.”

You startle awake and yelp as you bolt from your assailant. Aegon is watching you without any shame whatsoever. People are laughing as they gather up supplies so you all can get moving again, brushing teeth, arranging hair, drinking glass bottles of Stewart’s soda found last night in crates in the storeroom, snacking on bags of Utz chips. Sunlight is streaming in through the windows; specks of dust glimmer in the air like comets through the inhospitable void of outer space.

Luke says from where he is sitting on the floor, his arms and legs tethered: “Hopefully the day when somebody’s going to untie me.”

“It’s my birthday!” Aegon announces.

You’re still blinking at him, disoriented. “What…?”

“Aegon, I told you,” Aemond says, sipping a bottle of Stewart’s key lime soda. “It’s not your birthday. It’s not the 23rd.”

“It’s the 20th, right?” Rhaena says.

Rio looks to you, bewildered. “Isn’t it like the 25th?”

“We’re still in June?” Luke says. Now Aemond is hacking through his ropes with a hunting knife from the cellar in Distant, Pennsylvania.

“Your hand is healing up. Your color is good, your temperature is normal. I guess we can officially declare you human for the foreseeable future.”

“I knew it,” Jace says, combative so no one will see the desperate relief underneath.

Aemond examines your hands next, calloused over where the heat of the transmission tower burned the skin. There is no pretext for needing to tend to them any longer, no antiseptic or ointment or gauze. Aemond nods somberly at your palms, as if he isn’t entirely happy to pronounce them cured. His hands linger on yours for slow, unnecessary seconds.

“So what are we going to do special for my birthday?” Aegon presses eagerly.

“We’re going to walk between ten and twenty miles towards California,” Baela says.

“That’s not a birthday activity!”

Daeron groans as he inspects the screws and bolts of his compound bow. “Aegon, it’s not your birthday!”

“Shut up. You can’t even apply to get a credit card.”

“No one can get a credit card now! Currency is worthless!”

Rio offers you a cherries and cream soda. You take it and say: “Aegon, how old are you? On today, your alleged birthday?”

He hesitates. “That’s not the important part.”

Aemond smiles as he tells you, mock-whispering: “He’s thirty.”

“Thirty?!” Rio exclaims. “That’s like, an actual adult age. Marriage and a mortgage, shit like that. What were you doing before everything went insane?”

Aegon gestures vaguely. “I was considering a number of opportunities.”

“He was living on my couch,” Aemond says.

Rio shakes his head, grinning. “No job? No school? No nothing?”

“I wasn’t doing nothing. I played a lot of golf.”

“He was totally doing nothing,” Jace says. “I was in my third year of law school at Harvard, Baela was getting a master’s in Aeronautics and Astronautics at MIT, Rhaena just started an Anthropology PhD, Luke was getting a master’s in Screenwriting at Boston University—he was going to be very sad and very broke, but still, he had a plan—and Aegon was doing…nothing.”

“I’ve never had a real birthday party before,” Aegon tells you; and there is something in his murky blue eyes that is tremendously sad, wounded, childlike. “I might not get another chance.”

“What do you want to do?” Now people are alarmed, skittish glances and mouths open to object. You are encouraging him.

“I don’t know yet,” Aegon says. But he’s glad you bothered to ask. You can see it on his face.

It’s not until several hours later—after noon, the sun high and blazing, everyone’s unpracticed feet aching and blistering in their shoes—that Aegon experiences a revelation like the angel Gabriel appearing to the Virgin Mary or Sir Isaac Newton extrapolating gravity from an apple falling on his head. Aegon’s epiphany appears in the form of a bowling alley in Shenandoah, Ohio called Luxury Lanes. It is remarkably unluxurious, a nondescript black rectangular building with a few doors in the front, one small tinted window on each, and no other openings. To Aegon, it is an oasis in a desert.

“I want to go bowling!”

“Aegon, we’re not going bowling,” Baela says, breathing heavily but trying to hide it, her hands massaging the small of her back. Aemond is watching her worriedly. Baela is the only person not burdened with carrying any supplies beyond her hammer and shiny new Ruger—and she resisted this accommodation at first—but still, she suffers more than anyone.

“Once again, it is my birthday—”

“Aren’t bowling allies soundproofed?” Rio asks Aemond. “You know, so they don’t get noise complaints?”

“Uh, I guess so…?”

“It’s kind of a fortress, isn’t it?” Rio continues. “Not many ways in or out. We wouldn’t be seen or heard. Might be a good place to stop for the night. ”

“Yeah!” Aegon says. “Right, Aemond?”

Aemond looks at you. It takes you a moment to figure out why. “I think the bowling alley is a good idea,” you tell him. “It’ll be safe, assuming we can clear it. And Aegon can have his party.”

Aemond is skeptical. “A party?”

“Survival isn’t just about not dying. It’s also about holding onto the things that make us human.”

“Like bowling!” Rhaena says excitedly. “It’s preserving a tradition! And I used to be so good at bowling. I bowled a 250 game once.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Aegon says, still delighted to have her on his side.

“There’s a sign for a Walmart maybe half a mile up the road,” Daeron points out. “We could search it for supplies and then double back here.”

Aemond polls the audience. Everyone agrees.

Shenandoah is tiny, rural, religious, and out of the way from the major highways. The Walmart doors are chained shut with padlocks, and amazingly no one has taken that as an invitation to drive their car through them or otherwise shatter the glass yet. Rio is honored to be the first. He takes the butt of his Remington shotgun and punches through the glass of the locked doors, kicks away loose shards, whistles and shouts to lure out any zombies. A dozen of them come reeling out of the aisles and towards the doorway. Daeron shoots down most of them with his compound bow. Rio kills two with the butt of his Remington, his new favorite toy. Aegon, the birthday boy, uses his golf club to beat in the skull of a teenager who is still wearing glittery pink nail polish and fake eyelashes. According to her nametag, her friends and family once called her Raelynn.

Inside the Walmart, Jace and Aemond take one side of the store, you and Rio the other, doing a quick sweep to make sure you didn’t miss any undead employees or customers waiting for the chance to sink their teeth into you. And when that’s done, you begin shopping.

The shelves are probably two-thirds empty, but there are still treasures to be found. You push carts through the aisles and fill them with candles, lighters, Chef Boyardee, Doritos, canned soup, fruit snacks, tuna pouches, 5 gum, bottles of Snapple, socks and underwear, hair ties, t-shirts and shorts, Kleenex tissues, pads and tampons, toilet paper. Baela finds some cute maternity dresses. Helaena picks through the pharmacy for useful medications, Aemond shadowing her with a baseball bat in his hands and his Glock at his waist.

“Chips, they got Cheddar Whales!” Rio exclaims, tossing several boxes into your cart.

“I miss grocery stores,” Rhaena says as she climbs the shelves to get the last box of Teddy Grahams.

“I miss going to the mall and getting Auntie Anne’s pretzel nuggets,” Aegon commiserates. Then he stumbles upon the liquor aisle and his eyes light up like high beams. “Aemond!”

Aemond appears—perhaps a bit flustered—and deliberates for a while as he browses the selection, Aegon waiting anxiously, before he decides: “Since it is allegedly your birthday, you can drink tonight. And you can pick one other person to drink with you. But only one.”

“Rio,” Aegon says immediately.

“Come on!” Daeron whines.

Aegon is already putting bottles of Captain Morgan rum into a cart. “Sorry. Illegal. Underage.”

“I’ve helped you butcher countless zombies, but I can’t drink?!”

“Just Say No, as Nancy Reagan would tell an innocent child such as yourself.”

Jace strides over, sly and playful, gnawing on a Twizzler. “Aemond, were you over there rummaging through the medicine aisles again? What do you keep looking for? Condoms?”

There is an awkward silence, an extremely awkward silence. Aemond glares at Jace. Jace’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, I, uh…I was definitely joking. But…congrats on the possible future sex!”

“I already checked,” Luke tells Aemond apologetically. “You know condoms were the first thing to get bought up or looted everywhere.”

“Okay, great,” Aemond says quickly, willing the conversation to be over. There is blood, hot and mortified, flaring in his cheeks. He was thinking of you, he had to be; the only other single woman here is his sister, and obviously that’s not an option.

Jace takes another bite of his Twizzler. “Just pull out, man.”

Baela, incredulous, gestures to her belly. “Because that worked out super well for us.”

“I told you to stop riding me!”

“Yeah, a whole two seconds before you impregnated me with your super-swimmer Michael Phelps sperm.”

“Please don’t make me listen to this,” Luke begs. “I’m starting to wish I really was bitten.”

“Don’t you know all the tricks to not getting someone pregnant, Aemond?” Jace says. “Wasn’t that going to be your specialty? You wanted to be a vagina doctor? So don’t you know all the mysteries of the vagina, Aemond?”

“He was going to be an OB/GYN,” Baela says, unamused.

“Really?” Rio turns to Aemond. “Why would you want to do that?”

“So he gets to look at pussies all day,” Aegon says morosely, as if heartbroken that such a path is inaccessible to him.

“That’s not why,” Aemond insists, mostly to you.

You smile. “I didn’t think so. What’s the actual reason?”

“Interns do rotations in different departments so we can figure out what we enjoy and what we’re best suited for. I knew within two days of my OB/GYN rotation that that’s where I wanted to be. Giving birth is the only life-threatening trauma that is necessary for humanity to continue. I wanted to help people get through it as safely and painlessly as possible.” Then his gaze darts to Baela. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound worse—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m very much aware. It hurts like hell, people die. Believe me, I’d be thinking about that even if you hadn’t said it. I think about it all the time.”

“I have an idea you’re not going to like.”

“What?” Baela says. Aemond nods to the nearest shopping cart. “No way. You’re not going to push me around in one of those.”

“I believe it’s an adequate solution until an alternative appears.”

She sighs. “I’ve lost my body, my career, my society, my parents…must I lose my dignity too?”

Aemond winks. “Only when you’re too tired to walk.”

“Alright, Aemond. I realize you’re under the impression that this is a favor. So thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“Let me give you a favor in return.” Then Baela begins shooing everyone except you and Aemond out of the liquor aisle. “Grab anything else you want, we’re leaving in five minutes! Jace, come look at the baby clothes with me…”

When the two of you are alone, Aemond says: “I really hope that didn’t make you feel too weird. I’m not someone who gets uncomfortable about the…um…the subject matter in general. But I wouldn’t want you to think that I was trying to…I don’t know. Assume anything or pressure you into something that you weren’t already open to. Obviously I like…um…I mean, enthusiastic consent is essential, and I just…I would never try to convince anybody or…you know what, I’m just going to stop talking now. Okay?”

“Aemond, I’m fine. I didn’t think it was weird.”

“It’s a compliment,” he confesses, flushing pink again, touching his chin, perspiration gleaming at his temples.

Now you have to show interest so he knows you’re on the same page. You’ve never had to think this way before, you’ve never liked anyone enough to play the game. “So hypothetically, if someone didn’t want to get pregnant but there were no condoms, pills, etcetera…what are the options?”

He looks at you, pleasantly surprised. “Well, there’s the rhythm method. It’s not perfect, but it’s been around forever and is reasonably reliable if done correctly.”

You are only vaguely familiar. “We didn’t get a lot of sex ed down in Kentucky.”

Aemond chuckles then leans in, a mischievous curl of his lips, a craving in the crystalline river blue of his eye. He grips the shelf above your head, his arm a canopy. His voice is hushed. The front windows of the Walmart face west where the sun is setting; golden light floods in to illuminate the store. “Is your cycle regular?”

“It is, actually.” This should be embarrassing, but it’s not; it’s exhilarating. You’re imagining him seeing you, touching you, unearthing secrets you’ve never been tempted to share with anyone else.

“So if we imagine it like a circle…” He draws one on the back of your hand, invisible, mesmerizing, blue-white lightning crackling up the path of your metacarpals, wrist, ulna and radius, humerus and clavicle, descending ribs like the rungs of a ladder to jolt the sinus rhythm of your heart. “The start of your period would be Day One.”

“Okay,” you say, hypnotized as his fingerprint skates in an arc across the bumps of your knuckles.

“Ovulation doesn’t happen until around Day Fourteen. You might have noticed some increased arousal and…wetness. Clear in color, elastic consistency.”

Your eyes are trapped in his face, smooth skin, jagged scar tissue. You tease him back, stepping closer. You can hear people snickering in the next aisle as they eavesdrop. You don’t care about them, and neither does Aemond anymore. “Now that you mention it…”

“That’s nature trying to trick you into reproducing. Day Fourteen is crunch time. Once ovulation occurs, the egg is only good for up to twenty-four hours. And then the rest of the cycle you’re effectively useless, as far as making miniature humans is concerned.”

“Wait, you’re telling me people can only get pregnant one day a month?” This seems improbable. “How has the species managed to survive this long?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Aemond admits. “Depending on the health of the specimens, sperm can survive up to five days inside a woman’s body. And it’s difficult to tell exactly when ovulation occurs. So, in practice, there’s basically one week a month when you’d want to avoid a man…completing the act, if you will.” He’s still smiling, taunting, famished, imagining the same scenes you are. You know this with a categorical certainty, as if you’re reading his thoughts like stark stripes of distance on a measuring tape. “And that’s also the week when your hormones are demanding you have sex, inspiring you to make all sorts of impulsive yet extremely consequential decisions.”

“Don’t I know it,” Baela laments from the next aisle, and there is a rupture of wild giggles.

“Anyway.” Aemond lifts his finger from the back of your hand and you have to stop yourself from reaching for him as he recedes from you. “There’s a basic overview.”

“It was very educational.” You follow him out of the liquor aisle.

“I’ve used the rhythm method for years,” Rhaena says as everyone makes their way towards the front of the store with their carts. “Clearly that’s just anecdotal, so don’t think I’m officially endorsing it. When I’m in my fertile week we add condoms. Well…we used to. Back when we could get them.”

“Ugh, I hate condoms,” Baela grumbles.

“We can tell,” Aegon says.

“I hate the way they feel, I hate the way they smell…”

“They’ve never bothered me,” Rhaena says. “I don’t notice that much of a difference. And it can be fun to try different kinds.”

“Are you on drugs?” Baela whirls to you. “Seriously, what is wrong with her? I’m right, aren’t I? Condoms are awful.”

Rio gives you a cautious look, uncharacteristically reticent. He’s not going to be the one to reveal it. He doesn’t know if it’s something you’re willing to share. But if anything is going to happen with Aemond—and you want it to, already you know you want him—then it’s something you think you should be honest about. You want him to know about you. You don’t want to have to create some false version of yourself to wear like a pelt, heavy, smothering, something that will inevitably need to be taken off.

“I am regretfully not qualified to say.”

“You’ve never used condoms?” Baela asks, a bit dubious.

“I’ve never done any of it.”

Everyone freezes at the defunct checkout counters and turns to gawk at you. “No sex?” Jace says. “No nothing?”

You shrug, smiling a little self-consciously. “I made out with a guy once.”

“The Marine from Corpus Christi?” Baela asks. They’re obsessed with him, they’re convinced there’s some lore to be excavated, translated, displayed like a relic in a museum. There isn’t. Sometimes people pass in and out of your life as seamlessly as shadows or sunlight, no weight, no indentations, nothing to recall or relay. He existed and then he didn’t. He was an airplane drawing contrails in the sky that faded before the blood red fire of dusk filled the horizon.

“No. Someone from home. Just a guy, not even worth mentioning.”

“Girl, you gotta fix that, soon, pronto, like yesterday.” Jace seems genuinely horrified. “You can’t die a virgin.”

“You really can’t,” Daeron adds, and Aegon pretends to be distraught over the loss of his youngest brother’s virtue.

“That’s what I’m always telling her!” Rio says.

“Not everybody wants to have sex,” Helaena murmurs as she records today’s findings in her spider notebook.

“True,” Jace concedes. “And that is totally legit. Mother Teresa, Queen Elizabeth, Jesus Christ, Buddha, Joan of Arc, Sir Isaac Newton, Nikola Tesla, the Jonas Brothers for a while, all great people. But Chips is not celibate by choice, correct?”

“Buddha had a wife and son,” Aemond says, preoccupied. He isn’t looking at you now, which is concerning; he’s peering down at where his hands grip his shopping cart, his brow creased with…what is that? Unease, disapproval, concern, thoughtfulness, fear?

“It’s not some big thing,” you backpedal. “I don’t have a hangup about it, I just never met a guy I liked enough, and enlisted men, they’re…well, a lot of them are taken, or cheaters, or idiots. Or all three.”

“Not to worry, Chipper.” Aegon claps a hand on your shoulder; and you aren’t sure if it is his purpose to break the tension, but he seems to have that effect regardless. “If you ever wish to be initiated into the art of lovemaking by a slightly below average and entirely unintimidating penis, I’d be thrilled to assist you. I love condoms. But in their absence, I am the king of pulling out. 100% success rate. Zero bastard children running around to my knowledge.”

“You should give Jace lessons,” Baela says.

And the last thing Aegon takes from the Walmart is a green battery-powered Toshiba CD player so he can blast to his mixtapes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Flickering candles lining the middle lane, drinks and snacks strewn across the tables, Rio’s Moonbeam propped up so it’s aimed at the disco ball still hanging from the ceiling from a time before the dead started devouring the living. Daeron is at the end of the lanes to reset the pins after each player’s turn. Helaena is keeping score in her notebook; Rhaena is currently in the lead by a massive 80 points. Aegon is wasted, dancing on a table and crunching Cool Ranch Doritos beneath his bare feet, his blonde hair flopping. Each time it’s his turn to bowl, Aegon has to roll the ball down the lane with two hands like a child. Rio, several shots deep but unable to feel much shy of half a bottle, is singing along with him to Cruise by Florida Georgia Line, but it’s really more like shouting, each sentence an off-key monstrosity that makes you laugh.

“Baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!

Down a back road, blowin’ stop signs through the middle, every little farm town with you!

And this brand new Chevy with a lift kit, would look a hell of a lot better with you up in it!

So baby, you a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise!”

You cleared Luxury Lanes easily; the only difficult part was figuring out how to get into the area called the pit where, in normal times, felled pins were mechanically collected and sorted. There were two former employees roaming around back there in their tattered uniforms, snarling and drooling blood. Both were rapidly neutralized.

Someone always has to be by the front doors, watching through the small tinted windows for signs of trouble, whether from zombies or living humans. Aemond is currently on guard, nursing a Snapple. According to the bottle, the flavor is called Takes 2 To Mango. You grab your own Snapple—plain and simple Lemon Tea, no charming gimmicks—and walk over to join him.

“So now I guess it’s my turn to say I hope that conversation didn’t make you feel weird.”

He smiles politely, glancing out the window. “No, I’m completely fine.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you to look at me differently than you would any other girl, like I’m better than them, or worse than them, or like there’s anything wrong with me, because it really isn’t something I consider to be paramount to my identity, and people always seem to get all twisted up about it, but it’s a pretty boring story, I just…”

“You’ve never liked someone enough to take the risk. I get it. I don’t think you’re a freak or anything.”

“Okay. Good.” The next song on Aegon’s mixtape is Shaboozey’s A Bar Song. Jace is dancing with Baela, spinning her around as she giggles. With Rhaena’s coaching, Luke bowls his first strike. You rest your head on the door as you gaze up at Aemond, the phantom of a smile on your lips. “I might like you enough.”

And he says as if it’s the worst thing in the world, a plague, an infection, an apocalypse: “You’d fall in love with me.”

It hurts, of course it does, this flippant rejection. He burns you, he cuts you, he stitches you up with no anesthetic. You try not to show it. “You’re…confident.”

“No, I don’t mean because of anything specific I would do, it’s just…it’s natural to form a certain…attachment. To the first person you’re with. It leaves an impression.” Not an impression like a first judgment, superficial and swift; an impression like an imprint, a hollow, a prehistoric fossil that is preserved through eons. “That was already true before. And everything is more intense now, because life is so…” Aemond takes a while to settle on a word. “Precarious.”

You say like a challenge: “Are you still in love with the first girl you slept with?”

A shadow that ripples through his face, a flinching he tries to hide. You shouldn’t have asked. Still, you feel like you need to know, like you’ll run out of oxygen if you don’t. “I think I’ve gotten enough distance from it to realize that she wasn’t…wasn’t good for me in a lot of ways. It was an unconventional situation. But I still carry all these pieces of her around with me, yes. I don’t think that will ever go away.”

“Aemond,” you say gently. “Who was she?”

He is evasive, smirking. “It’s a cliché.”

“Was she a patient? That’s very Grey’s Anatomy of you.”

“No. She was my professor.”

An older woman, wise and experienced and captivating and sophisticated. He’s cut you again, a blade slicing effortlessly through veins like soft butter. “Oh. From med school?”

“Undergrad.”

“You were really young,” you say, a little startled.

He nods. “I was eighteen when it started. I was this shy, insecure, friendless freshman, she was married with two kids around my age. And it was off and on, but there was never anyone else for me, she took up too much space in my head, in my chest, like I couldn’t breathe unless I knew we were okay.”

“It went on for seven years?”

This seems to stun him, hearing how much of his existence she bottled like a terrarium. “I guess so.”

Is she dead? Missing? Safe somewhere with her husband and kids? “Is she…gone?”

His gaze drops to the floor. “Yeah.”

“Did you see it happen?”

“I was the one who killed her when she turned.”

It’s indescribably horrible; you don’t know what to say. “Aemond, I’m…I’m really sorry…”

He is abruptly nonchalant, the blue of his eye cool and dispassionate. “Look, I’m not prepared for this to be anything more than casual. And I don’t think casual is really in the cards for us. So it’s probably best to leave it alone.”

“Right,” you agree numbly, not meaning it.

“We’re headed different places, I’m going to California, you’re planning to end up in Oregon, it’s just…a bad idea to muddy the waters, I think.”

“Because I haven’t done this before.”

He shrugs ambiguously. “It’s a contributing factor.”

“Well you seemed pretty interested before you found that out, so.”

“I don’t mean to offend you.”

“You aren’t offending me. You’re disappointing me.”

Now Aemond is offended. “By trying to protect us?”

“No, by saying you don’t think I’m a freak when you clearly do, and by having some savior complex, or a whore-Madonna complex, or whatever’s going on in your head, it’s always such a mystery to everyone else.”

He downs the rest of his Snapple and shoves the bottle into the nearest trash can. You hear it thump against the bottom, no garbage bag. “Alright. This was fun.”

“Maybe you’re afraid of making a mistake, just like I always was.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have to teach you how to do everything,” Aemond snaps.

“I taught you how to shoot.”

“The fact that you don’t realize how wildly different those two situations are proves you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, bye. Sorry about your zombie girlfriend.”

Aemond glares at you, shocked, furious. “That was so fucking low.”

It was. You regret it. But you can’t bring yourself to tell him that. You flee to the far end of the bowling alley and sit alone at a table draped in shadows. After a while, Rio notices and ventures over to see what’s wrong, a bottle of Captain Morgan swinging from one hand. He’s tipsy now.

Rio sighs as he takes a seat beside you, reaching over to rub your back. His hands are large and indelicate; what he means to be comforting is more like getting manhandled. Sometimes he leaves bruises, but it’s not his fault. Nature gave Rio the body of a killer. If anyone is going to survive the zombie apocalypse, it’s him. “What’s going on, Chips?”

Your voice breaks as you say it; tears sting in your eyes. “I hate caring about people.”

He bursts out laughing. “Yeah, it’s the worst, isn’t it? But once in a while it works out.”

“Bryan.”

And now he knows you’re serious. You have his full attention, large dark eyes fixed on your face, lines etching into his brow beneath the artificial starlight of the disco ball. “What are you asking me?”

“We can’t leave them and walk to the West Coast ourselves, can we?”

“I mean, technically we could, but it would be really stupid. Everything’s so much easier with ten people. And also I think I’d have to kidnap Aegon and take him with us, I love that little dude. Why? Do you really want to leave them?”

“No.”

“I figured.” He offers you the half-empty bottle of Captain Morgan.

“I’m not drinking that.”

“Come on. It’ll take the edge off.”

You look at him. Rio looks back, smiling now.

“I’ll watch out for you,” he says. “And if you get bit I’ll shoot you dead, no hesitation, swear to God. I remember our promise. I won’t let you die alone.”

“You’re a good guy.”

“I know.” He nudges your arm with the bottle of Captain Morgan. “A few swigs won’t hurt. It’ll help you sleep.”

You take the bottle, twist off the cap, drink down amber-gold poison that burns like gasoline, like fire.

[r0-boat]

Headcanons for favorite ice cream flavor of your favorite whb characters?

I will do all of them

ALL WHB DEMON CHARACTERS AND THEIR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR

Ultimate whb ice cream headcannon! Please let me know how you think of them in the comments I love reading them :)

Cut for length.

Gehanna

Satan

This man is an cookies and cream bastard. He crushes Oreos and puts them into his ice cream the more the merrier. He'll still eat his ice cream even though it's just a pile of cookies and little bits of ice cream. Genuinely gets mad that there's not enough cookies in his ice cream.

Sitri

I think he would like a more uncommon flavor like pistachio or matcha. He understands not many people like his flavor but it's his.

Juno/Ppyong

Chocolate ice cream with chocolate chip. Drizzled with chocolate... He just really likes chocolate.

Leraye

He likes those character popsicles with the eyeball gum. he always takes out the eyeballs first and then eats their heads.

Belial

He likes sherbert with gummy bears. I can see him really liking fruity flavors. Occasionally he does also have sprinkles.

Paimon

Bubble gum flavor is a masterpiece and if you disagree you're wrong.

Astaroth

Rocky road. He likes the richness of chocolate paired with the nuttiness of the almonds and the softness of marshmallows delicious!

Zagan

Chocolate chip! He's a simple man.

Tartaros

Mammon

Anything with caramel has his heart, it's sweet and delicious and he likes watching it roll down. So butterscotch caramel. Don't forget the gold shavings

Bimet

He'll have whatever Mammon is having having. extra gold shavings please... (a scoop of pineapple with coconut shavings)

Eligos

Strawberry with sprinkles! He is a strawberry die hard. Constantly getting into fights with chocolate and vanilla fans.

Valfor

Butter pecan with caramel as well. He'll also politely ask what ice cream flavor are you having and then politely asked for some of yours in exchange for some of his.

Hades

Leviathan

Neapolitan ice cream because it has three flavors and that's better than one. but then would rudely steal a spoonful of yours and wants to try everyone else's because he's jealous of what you're having because it looks good.

Foras

He also likes Neapolitan not because he wants to copy Levi He just genuinely likes the flavors.

Glasyalabolas

He can't decide between Cherry or raspberry. He just really likes strong fruity flavors. He doesn't mind a little chocolate drizzle either.

Barbatos

Of course he would like red velvet And he likes mixing bits of brownies.

Orias

Cotton candy with sprinkles. Anything sweet enough to give you diabetes

Abyssos

Beelzebub

His favorite changes every other day once you ask him It will take in about 10 minutes to think of an answer just to change it three times.

(funny headcanon one time visiting Leviathan He got into his ice cream stash to separate the three flavors and reorganize them as a prank. That's how he got banned from Hades for 100 years.)

Bael

Likes root beer float, He likes it because he can mix it in and then drink it while he's working.

Amon

My brain is telling me that he likes cookie dough. I don't know why I feel strongly about this.

Naberius

Peanut butter. He's such a sucker for peanut butter ice cream. He'll be eating it with his tail wagging happily.

Stolas

Strawberry cheesecake ice cream! And don't you dare tell him it's girly or be mean because he will cry!

Paradise Lost

Lucifer

Moose tracks is the most old man dad flavor I can think of.

Gamigin

He's more of a snow cone guy. But he likes Sorbet anything with citrus and he'll be there.

Marbas

He's a plain guy He just likes vanilla. If he feels like something different than he'll add to it it's perfect.

Beur

He likes vanilla but he's more of a French vanilla person. He thinks of himself as the better vanilla fan. He's kind of prideful about it.

Morax

Not much of an ice cream fan but he'll have whatever you're having

Niflheim

Belphegor

Mint chocolate chip. We don't know much about him it's just a vibe.

Gusion

Coffee flavor, no one saw this coming.

Bathin

He likes flavors from different countries like Ube, moonmist or hokey pokey. Any flavor that's specifically unique to that place he'll try it.

Andrealphus

Rainbow sherbert he likes tasting all the little flavors. He also likes the name because if he could see he wants to see all the pretty colors it has. Probably just as beautiful as he imagines it.

Abbadon

Dantalian

Man likes grape flavor He's just dying to get stabbed.

Phenix

Banana split. He eats the banana whole ;)

Ronove

Mango surprisingly normal...

Other

Minhyeok

Always orders the same ice cream as yours when he's alone he just orders vanilla topped with MnM's

[heartfullofleeches]

Me when cowboy: AWOOGA. Kiss for root beer please?

"How about it, darlin'. One little kiss if I make that shot?

How did this idiot manage to rope you into this? The start of a new weekend and you were here brushing off the stress at a bar on a sort of date with one of your many stalkers. Root Beer downs another shot and flashes his pearly whites as he signals over at the dart board on the wall. Riley drank a little more liquid courage than usual to amp up the good vibes and luck of your outing. If anything bad happened, he could blame it on the whiskey. If things went according to plan, you would be moving into his place by the end of the month. Only problem was if there was one thing weaker than his tolerance, it was his eye sight.

"I can hit it from right here, first try."

"Are you really gonna risk putting someone in the hospital for a kiss?"

"I'd do much worse for much less when it comes to you, Sweetheart. Just sit tight and pucker up."

Riley takes a dart from the bartender and turns towards the board. Spice yells for everyone in the vicinity to move out the way. He kisses the ring around his thumb for good luck and throws the dart. It flies through the air, gradually losing trajectory as it sails. By some miracle, or act of supernatural origins, it lands smack dab in the center of the board. He twists back around to you, that shit eating grin all the way to his ears as he pops a mint from the counter in his mouth.

"Looks like lady luck's smiling down on me tonight. Hope ya got those pretty lips warmed up for me~ If not, I can fix that with ease and pleasure."

"You cheated."

"I would never-... less there was something to gain from it. Come here. Try not to think about it too hard."

Riley pulls off his hat and cradles it to his chest as he kisses you without a moment of hesitation or warning. The mint warts off any flavor of the alcohol he drank as his lips fit against yours. Its gentle at first, skin barely making contact like he's afraid you'll disappear if he gives into the temptation. When you don't pull away, he presses deeper into the kiss and strokes his thumb over your cheek. He loops an arm over your shoulder, sliding a twenty to the bartender as the beautiful moment draws to its closure.

[fumiku]

Hear ye hear ye!

I come bringing two Dungeon Meshi marchil fanfics to share

Enough

He got crumbs of it in moments, here and there, and it would be more than enough to last the winter. Chil knew how to live on little, with only what he could afford. But love? Love he had had enough of for a lifetime.

I'll start with the shorter one that I wrote first, a quick Chilchuck POV 1.3k words oneshot that's bittersweet if not just plainly sad. It’s about repressing a crush essentially, but the marchil is mostly a front for a character study about Chilchuck’s complex feelings on his marital situation and love in general. I’ve been told many times in comments that even without shipping marchil it was enjoyable, so give it a shot if that sounds interesting!

He soaked her in, like hard bread softening in broth.

Grind Me Down Sweetly

Even years after their journey into the dungeon, Marcille wasn’t quite over her existential dread over short lifespans… And it showed. Every other day, she came by to Chilchuck’s locksmith shop with a shocking lack of locks to smith.

Coffeeshop au except it’s not an au and there’s no coffeeshop. This one is a long oneshot of 17k words, and contains flashbacks that are meant to loosely span over a year. This fic can pretty much be entirely read as platonic. They’re just close friends but they give married energy is all. Slice of life and cozy with a side of banter & tsundere behavior, and existential dread hurt/comfort as the cherry on the sundae. It contains some classic Dungeon Meshi things like storytelling through cooking and sharing meals~ If you like the Marcille and Chilchuck dynamic in canon, this is pretty much just a bunch of that, shenanigans abound!

She clung to her friends like time was always running out.

Blonde hair is the epitome of beauty to him meanwhile his greying hair brings her existential despair. I am composed and collected about this

"I am going to chase you out with a broom"

Some related-ish memes I made!

Extra author notes and marchil rambling under cut

With how chil is so irritable and private about romance and his feelings it makes sense that their romance would have passive-agressive energy. Are they just friends or pining? Oh wouldn’t you like to know. Are they just lightheartedly bantering or is he legitimately pissed or are they blinking in morse code their true feelings at each other? Yes

My post-canon timeline is Chilchuck lives a nice life living alone in his house-shop except his friends all visit him and care, and even though he likes living alone it’s also bittersweet and every corner of his life is haunted by the ones he loves and loved and the moments he had with them. That’s it that’s all I want… (mostly the nice life part lol)

My marchil manifesto is that she grows on him stubbornly like fungal yeast and it brings out his flavor like beer <3 Because she stubbornly puts her nose everywhere and refuses to give up on getting closer to her friends and it makes him open up and repress his feelings less and aaaa <33 Obligatory shout out to the dunmeshi discord serv for engaging with my rambles

For someone who dislikes alcohol I’m having so much fun working beer metaphors and stuff into the writing, Chilchuck has all the fun motifs to play with fr... Traps, lockpicking, married life, work, destitution, starvation, rejection, repression, opening urself up to the world. Give me the most domestic fluff and give it a subtle foundation of angst and hurt comfort 👌

And I do think that Marcille takes a particular interest in Chilchuck especially because he’s so set on being a closed book as well. Yeah she def is like 👀 at him. Aaah the way she wants to meet his family so bad 😭💕 I think she romanticizes him & his family life/idealizes him as a virtuous husband a lot too. Like how she tends to think of things in a more flowery story-like way.

I do compare him to bread and her to soup in that he soaks up in her warm vibes and softens up. Which has become a personal favorite. He was bread, she was soup, can I make it any more obvious /lyr Soggy bread Chilchuck is so funny to me. Like, you know that rock solid bread but then you soak it in soup and then it just becomes the softest crumbliest thing. I think Chilchuck is a really hard bread that will break your teeth if you don’t put him in some soup beforehand. Or wine. I wracked my brain a lot about what food Chil would like (because his Adventurer’s Bible profile just says he love alcohol and hates sweet dishes rip) and I end up giving him a bread motif a lot, since it pairs well with alcohol and whatnot.

With marchil I either do unrequited angst because Chilchuck will NOT allow himself to feel, or the most domestic fluffy shit ever but in a mostly platonic dimension because once again -gestures at Chilchuck- But in a true Marcille "If I was Chilchuck’s wife" Donato fashion she manages to get her nose into the most stubborn’s people stuff like a barnacle and it’s. So married people coded anyways. They’re a lil messed up but it’s ok they’ll iron out those bumps. Ironing because they are gonna do the most domestic chores together 🔥🔥 MARRIEDCORE I TELL YOU I should get around to making more fics and more different vibes though, I already have a bunch of prompts written down~

Even more rambling and headcanons!!

I hc that when he gets his shop all his living quarters are half-foot sized so whenever the party comes to visit they suffer sitting down at the dinner table and whatnot

There’s a very specific horror in not being able to grow old with your loved one… It’s gotta be rough being in a relationship where you don’t mature at the same speed/rate. It must be so heartbreaking to turn around and your lover suddenly looks 70 while you’re still like 26 Chilchuck living until he lives with either Meijack or Flertom or at the castle and spends his days grumbling about people being even more incompetent than they used to be real. He can live longer than 50 🙏 come on peepaw you can make it to 70. He’s got so many friends ready to nurse him, prob while he complains about it. This is why I find elderly half-foots a funny mental picture. For a while I wondered if half-foots aged visually much at all in the traditional sense, and then I remembered these.

In my post-canon headcanons I’ve adopted the idea that Marcille doesn’t do her hair, it’s always someone else making her hairdos like an attendant or Kabru and like maybe Falin learns. In the "it takes a village to raise someone" community mutual aid energy… And the rare times where the task befalls Chilchuck he learns how to put it in a single braid (even if it’s so much hair for him to hold in his small hands all at once rip) because the one time he braided it in two in canon it reminded him of Meijack and gave him psychic damage. WHICH. Ohhh my god you have no idea how much I care about Chilchuck’s daughters now. After writing the first half of Grind Me Down Sweetly I am forever changed I know them all by name and know everything there is to know about them, I am making so many headcanons every day… Meijack wears thigh-high boots because she hates when sand, dirt or snow gets in her shoes- I have fanart coming up of them over at @fuumiku and I’d love making fics centered around them as well eventually yippee The angst of old senile Chilchuck still tying marcille's hair... Old senile chilchuck confusing marcille for one of his daughters… "Have you gotten taller? Oh how much you’ve grown" -breaking his neck looking up at her- I want Chilchuck to get the top notch elder treatment.

Ok this is the alcoholism tangent. I really want to believe Chilchuck can be super old, but… Realistically he’s gonna drink himself to an early grave, he’s a work hard play hard kinda guy.

Marcille would be horrified if she knew the extent of it fr fr, but I do think it’d drive a wedge between them if she tried getting him to lay off of it… If he’s open to it though that’d be so nice and sweet. Hey hey btw did you know, Chilchuck is canonically underweight due to extremely strict dieting and alcohol can act as a good hunger suppressant! Lots of issues to dig into here It’d be cute if his daughters visit him often and collectively keep tabs on him in a caring way. It’s less cute actually beinh the daughter and having to deal with it but- CHILCHUCK IS WORTH IT okay!!! Where’s that meme of "You can fix him? So is 5 other people y’all look like a construction crew" bc this increasingly looks like ‘Marcille Senshi Laios Izutsumi and his family make sure he doesn’t poison himself like a dog with chocolate’ mission.

Truly for some people reason just flies out the window when it comes to alcohol, coherence gives way to excuses. He reminds of someone I know who got a grave disease that’s worsened by alcohol and just. Continues to take it regularly. You know that thing that’s said where "an alcoholic parent will have 2 kids, one will grow to be alcoholic too while the other will never touch a drop of alcohol" and Chilchuck is def the first I think. He gives the vibe that he’d say "An alcoholic parent puts a strain on familial relationships?? Pshh, my father was and look at me! I turned out great!". I don’t think Chil could really get shaken out of it at this point tbh, seems very ingrained in him, would prob fight it back. I relate with my own familial situation ughh. Maybe if he realized how it hurt the people around him and not only himself though…. I’d def like to see him ease up on it. Drinking is often a social activity though. That gives me hope, especially with the whole dunmeshi lesson of sharing meals, that he might be able to/have recontextualized how or when he likes to take alcohol, that alcohol is better when you have others with you and you’re still able to talk and whatnot. Chilchuck says that he’s pretty picky with alcohol tho, like he has specific tastes or a high bar. Laios can ban good beer in the kingdom and then Chilchuck just stops because it all tastes awful and he’s not rich enough to import. The brewery he likes mysteriously burns down in a fireball incident one night. Marcille risks prison for her loved ones part 2, now with diplomatic immunity! ✨

I have hcs about Chil’s family dynamic, about his daughters and how alcoholism or workaholism may have affected everyone (not me inferring that Puckpatti being the most idealistic and optimistic from Chil’s daughters is probably a result from her being the youngest and perhaps Chil being the most often at work during that time and so she was mostly raised by her mother without much involvement from him). That’s a topic for another day though, for now I leave you all with thoughts of Flertom painting flowers on a shitty ceramic mug when she was 3 and Chil begrudgingly asking Marcille advice on picking a birthday gift for Puckpatti :) Oh yeah, because if we look at the timeline in The Adventurer’s Bible and combine it with when Chilchuck said that "Due to certain circumstances he hasn’t seen his wife or daughters in years" in the Senshi backstory chapter, besides letters with Flertom he has seemingly not seen them in 4 years. 4 YEARS. Thank god dungeons disappeared, it took that much for him to retire

[sadie-bug345]

gang as sodas‼️‼️🫶🫶

i’m BAAAAACKKK i had a minor mental breakdown over stupid guys but it is okay because we are back in the game🫡 ANYWAYS LETS GO

ponyboy:

hard sprite fan

probably accepts sierra mist or starry WHATEVER ITS CALLED NOW

but he does so begrudgingly😐

also probably vibes w Hi-C or brisk tea or smth random like that

8/10 mcdonald’s sprite lover

johnny:

dr pepper for sure

that or some other cola

but he enjoys the sweet perfection that is dr pepper🤌

probably cracks one open like every three hours

the caffeine keeps my boy running

which is real cause who has the naturally occurring energy that allows him to stab socs and hide out in a church for a week🤷‍♂️

9/10 iconic

sodapop:

hot take but i feel like my guy either LOVES and CRAVES soda OR he is just like meh about it

like his name already is a lot

so some days when he’s more down he’s just like

”NO STEVE I DO NOT WANT A COKE AND STOP IT WITH THE JOKES”

🫶🫶

usually though he’ll lean into it and accept his love for soda and himself

6/10

darry:

probably doesn’t like the carbonation or ice in it or smth

like he’s got some weird excuse for not enjoying it (my dad asf)

but when he does give in and drink one, it’s like tab or something so random for no reason😭😭

maybe he’ll ask the waitress for some specialty soda he remembers as a kid and then has a lil fit whenever they’re just like “🧍‍♀️…what?”

5/10 for the nostalgia

dally:

chooses alcohol anytime

but if he CANT

HARD ROOT BEER ENJOYER

it’s so random but my guy will down glasses of root beer like it’s nothing

like I KNOW THAT FIZZ IS GOING UP YOUR NOSE PAL

he just thinks it’s the “toughest” soda ??

idek really why he does the things he does

8/10 cause i love me some root beer too

two-bit

pretends to get super mad whenever the waitress is like “we only carry pepsi products😔”

he’s like “😟…NO‼️”

probably a cream soda enjoyer

which is actually so real

like you kinda ate with that

typa guy to get every soda from the soda fountain and combine them all just for laughs

and then actually chugs it

6/10 bc why are you torturing your taste buds like that

steve:

grape soda enjoyer😭😭

im sorry i cannot with grape soda it tastes like medicine to me

HOWEVER

HE WILL STAND BY IT FOREVER

LIKE HE DEFENDS GRAPE SODA SO MUCH

also probably likes orange soda which is actually solid

he likes the fruit flavors more than anything which does hit but like not 24/7 my guy

5/10

THIS WAS FUN REQUEST PLS OK BYE BYE🫶🥰‼️

[jazzmasternot]

What kind of liquor everyone at the hotel drinks

This is a continuation of @hazelfoureyes’s post abt what kind of drunk everyone is.

My credentials for this that I’m a bartender and work in both restaurants and nightlife so I’ve served all kinds of ppl and Ik what customers want before they even order.

Alastor

So we know this man likes rye and I stonefly believe that he would drink either uncle nearest or makers mark. I mean cmon have you seen the bottle for makers mark it even fits his aesthetic. And yes he will smoke a fat cigar with it too.

Lucifer

Yeah this man drinks wine and is real pretentious about it too, he just gives off mega wine drunk type energy. Like will try to tell you all about how this wine is special because you can taste the hints of sandal wood and how it has a appley after taste even tho no one cares. Also the kind of person to say “I’m just gonna have one glass” then boom the entire bottle is empty.

Angel dust

He drinks vodka you can’t tell me otherwise, he’ll drink tequila when he really wants to turn up but it’s mainly vodka. His favorite is a vodka Martini with little (none) vernouth, so just shaken vodka in a martini glass and yes he can tell if you didn’t shake it. His favorite is highway vodka yk the one that’s made with weed and gets you a lil high aswell.

Husk

Another whiskey drinker everyone, I mean he even says it in the show, straight from the bottle no less. It’s probably either jack Daniel’s or Hennessy doesn’t care much about the quality like Alastor does. No rocks glass no ice cube straight up room temp (yuck). Every once in a while he’ll drink jägermeister if he’s feeling particularly devious that night.

Charlie

Listen don’t ever give her straight liquor, bc she will drink it if ppl cheer her on enough and then immediately throw it up, so everyone’s learned their lesson with her. The closest she’d be able to do without dying instantly is the deep eddy Lemmon/grapefruit. Just give her a Bellini or a margarita, also I feel like she’d love lemon drops.

Vaggie

Beer drinker I don’t know why but she gives off a beer girly kinda vibe that makes husks job so much easier. I feel like she’d like the cream and amber ales too. She’d only drink it on draft though no cans or bottles she thinks it ruins the flavor (she’s not wrong) but most ppl don’t understand that. When she’s not drinking beer it’s vodka crans and seabreazes with Tito’s all they and it’s definitely not bc those are the only two cocktail names she knows.

Nifty

Straight tequila no mixer no chaser not even dressed or chilled, right down the hatch bc she likes it when the alcohol just burns on the way down. YAY PAIN! Fun fact tequila isn’t a depressant which is why you start actin crazy when you drink it, and we all saw how she was acting in episode 6 classic tequila drunk behavior.

[vellichorom]

What types of alcohol does Theirry like?

Beer? Wines?

What flavors?

okay forgive me, i am NOT a drinker & know nothing about alcohol beyond vibes HOWEVER...

i think he's very much a deep-flavor, heavy-alcohol content kind of guy, so he's much into brandys, rums, wines yeah, whiskeys, absinthes, liqueurs...

he'd CLAIM beer is too lowbrow for him but if that's all there is in alcohol TO drink when he's craving... well, he'll put up with it;

none of these help the fact he's a lightweight & starts getting fucked REAL fast. sloppy drunk too... but just a glass or two with dinner / after dinner here & there shouldn't do him TOO terribly,

unless rosemary & him really break into the box.....

[noemilivv]

I was waiting for an opening as I saw you had match ups available and would love to see who you'd put me with.

Preference for male characters from Hazbin Hotel

About me: You can call me Claire. I'm AFAB she/her, 5'3", panromantic demisexual. I'm Tim Burton pale, brown eyes, messy curly bob brown hair, glasses with glasses chains usually, chubby but strong, dress either romantic gothic feminine or butch cryptidcore, like no in between, never wear make up because sensory hell.

Some type of neurodivergent but not diagnosed specifically. I tend to know a little about a lot of things due to jumping from focus to focus. Queen of Dad jokes, rather blunt since I'm not subtle. Aside from English can speak Latin, some Gaelic, some Spanish, a little bit of Turkish/Arabic, Church Greek and Slavonic, and random phrases in Russian, German, and Italian. I'm ENFP, Ares cabin from PJO if that means anything.

I teach preschool, love children as they're so fun to be around and the possibilities they have ahead are wonderful. I also bake, sew, knit, read tons of books, collect rocks and other nature stuff, tend to the gardens, I sing in my choir, and like to listen to music. Not specific music genres that I care for, more vibes, but been into some Bauhaus lately, along with SJ Tucker and The Dead South.

My faith is important to me, I even am considering pursuing becoming a religious sister at a convent, like a nun.

I do love horror, romantic gothic poetry (Think Poe and the like), analog horror(DOAI, Mandela Catalogue), Dr. Who, bad b movies (think Redletter media level bad), animation in general, HB HH, stuff like that, I read everything and anything so long as the narrative is interesting or the subject is a hyperfixation of mine, such as Religions, Mythology, History relating to late Medieval to Elizabethan, textiles, fantasy, or speculative biology (like thought potato on youtube). I also do dress in character for the Renaissance Festival, people assume I work there as I have season passes for the last 5 years and attend all weekends from open to close.

I tend to be a sweet tooth, love any chocolate, baked goods with richness or chocolate flavors, drink lots of coffee, tea, sweet red wines, mead, rum based cocktails or dark malty beers if we're going alcohol, though I tend to be the driver if I'm going to party somewhere. My giving love language is touch and words, along with acts of service. My receiving love language is words, touch, and gift giving. I love to cook or make gifts for others, usually don't expect it in turn.

I'm loud, maternal, weirdly dark yet wholesome, and able to lift a toilet with my bare hands up two flights of stairs. I tend to talk either like a southern grandma or terminally online weirdo with random swears. When friends have a bad breakup I'm like do you want a hug or does someone have to die?

In relationships I can be very talkative, but also in a sense the less dominant partner. Like, I handle the day to day, but not great at organizing the dates, the stuff like that's more romantic. I'd hope my partner could handle that part. I'm also romantically easily flustered. Like squeaking and burning red in the face from genuine good flirting.

So hope you can find someone right for me, God Bless you dear.

hello claire!! i decided to pair your with…

Lucifer !!

First of, he loves your love of kids, and let’s be real, he probably has a love of kids as well, as much as Charlie is an adult, he would probably eagerly introduce you to her after finding out this tidbit of info

Honestly, to him, you give off very strong, emotional support wifey vibes and honestly he is all in for it haha

Lucifer doesn’t mind that you can be very talkative, infact, he enjoys it.

He tries to make it fairly easy when it comes to planning dates for you, so most of the time, you both just stay in

Also, Luci is definitely someone who gets flustered easily, so you both just end up giddy and smiley at eachothers shy little flirty comments and it’s the most heart warming thing

[ladylooch]

What would Nico’s reaction be to Lex wearing a sundress and a bow in her hair

A/N: Let’s use this to set the stage for 🌸 anon’s upcoming request… Also, I wanna go on vacation with these five. Damn.

The skirt of my sundress swirls around my thighs as Emma and I walk to join the boys at one of the resort restaurants. We are currently vacationing together as a family in Miami. The team has a few off days in southern Florida, so Emma and I flew down with Lio to spend some time soaking in Vitamin D. The gorgeous Atlantic vibes are the perfect compliment to our first dinner here. Nico and Timo had gotten sick of waiting for us to finish getting ready in mine and Nico’s room, so they took Lio down to the bar for a beer. 

We find them sitting on bar stools, chatting with the bartender as Lio sits on the bar with Timo’s arm around him. Lio is blowing spit bubbles and the group of women to the left of the boys are entranced.

“Oh my god I want a baby!” One of them moans. Lexi can see the allure as her and Emma approach. Lio is so cute. A happy baby that loves to suck on his toes and spew baby giggles at any exciting noises or tickles.

“Bbbbbb.” Lio bubbles, spit dribbling onto the surface as his hands patty cake on the bar top.

“So he’s already had his first sip of beer?” Emma chuckles as she comes to her husband. She wraps an arm around his large shoulders, not even glancing to the women that were obviously hitting on our husband’s just now. I give a look, noticing how all of them deflate at Emma Meier’s presence. Yeah, she’s that beautiful. 

Nico’s arms find my waist as he glazes his eyes along my dress. He likes what he sees. It’s a white dress with a linen fabric. Dainty, blue flowers with yellow centers create a busy pattern. The skirt is short, accented by the wedge heels I’m wearing. I feel his fingers slid along the backs of my thighs, teasing his way a bit under the hem to grab my butt.

“Easy access tonight.” He whispers in my ear as I sit on his thigh. He has no idea. “You wearing panties?” He questions as his fingers trail higher. I shake my head no. “Lex.” He groans, resting his forehead on my shoulder. I curl it inwards so I can kiss the top of his head. Now the group of women have looked away all together at seeing me with Nico too. Good. He’s decidedly taken.

Lio reaches for Timo’s cold glass of beer, trying to gum at it with his mouth.

“Buddy, you’re making it look like I actually gave you beer.” Timo chuckles, moving the glass. Emma picks it up, taking a sip and sighing at the flavor.

“Damn, that hits on a humid night.” 

“You want one?” The bartender asks, motioning to both of us.

“Yeah, we have some time before dinner.” Nico encourages. As he responds, his thumbs brush along my bare hips under my dress. 

“A little less of that.”

“Why? Can’t handle it?” I say nothing, just give a little wiggle of my hips that makes him squeeze me in response. “Hey. Not fair.”

The bartender sets two beers down in front of the boys, who funnel them back to us. Lio tries to grope for it.

“Okay, I have to ask..” Emma begins.

“No, babe. I did not give our 7 month old beer.” 

“Okay. Well, daddy has different rules than mommy sometimes.” She widens her eyes at me. 

“Yeah about bedtime, not alcohol consumption.” He taps Emma’s ass making her hide her grin in Timo’s side.

They look so cute together as a family of three. Nico and I have been discussing kids on and off the last few months. We haven’t been married long, but I ache for a baby with him. Spending time with the three Meiers the next few days is going to heighten that desire.

“He didn’t do it. Only because he said he was scared of you.” Nico laughs, thumb stroking across the top of my thigh, igniting fire. I close my eyes and take a sip of beer to stay centered. He is so calm beneath me, like he has no idea what his fingers are doing to me.

“Good. I like him that way.” Emma leans forward to close her lips over Timo’s. 

The four of us fall quiet for a moment, watching Lio try to wiggle over to the group of girls I forgot about. He likes their glittering dresses and bubbly drinks on the bar. 

“Just like his dad.” Emma jokes, picking him up and resting him on her hip. Lio leans forward to suck at her shirt on the side of her breast. “Again, like his dad.” We all laugh, appreciating the baby chuckles that shake Lio in response. 

[zhongster]

omg omg i’d love to hear anything you have to say about hotch from criminal minds!! headcanons or anything i don’t mind i just wanna hear your thoughts

i’ve never seen anyone write for CM before i just got so excited!!

tysm <33

THIS IS KINK CONTENT, DNI IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT

Ugh anon I adore that man to the ends of the earth i would be HAPPY to talk about him. Also i wrote these while watching the infamous “Lauren” episode which was an absolutely insane set of vibes to pair together

This man is a lot like nanami in behavior, I think

He’s extremely stoic and put together in addition to being a very polite gentleman

He would do everything in his power to avoid burping in front of anyone else, ESPECIALLY his team

He’s supposed to be the leader so obviously he can’t be seen doing something so unprofessional

That being said considering the amount of black coffee this man chugs (and the amount of time he spends with the team) he’s gonna have some issues

His stomach is pretty much always sour and upset

When he has an empty stomach (which is a lot of the time) he’s always muffling these silent gross-tasting coffee burps

They don’t make much if any noise at all but he works with profilers so they’re gonna be able to tell; they can specifically see his throat move when one comes up

A lot of the time he brings a fist to his mouth when these come up anyway, plus he still excuses himself

These ones interrupt his sentences all the time

He’ll be like “and the profile states that *raises fist to his mouth for a sec*… sorry, excuse me… the profile states that the unsub”

Sometimes though this’ll happen and it’ll be a bigger one than he’s expecting, one that actually IS audible or is longer than he’s ready for, and that’s when he genuinely starts to get embarrassed

It’s not super obvious that he’s embarrassed but the tips of his ears turn pink and he starts avoiding eye contact

I feel like whenever this happens, without fail, Penelope will go “good one sir”

He hates it but he won’t chide her for it

His burps tend to get really belchy and earthquakey when he overeats which definitely doesn’t happen often but he has been known to zone out and eat more than he meant to + he’s not a small man so i feel like they rumble pretty deeply in his chest

Whenever that happens his first instinct is to hide from the rest of the team however that isn’t always possible

He spends a lotta time in his office burping inside his closed mouth hiding from the team

I feel like the few times they’ve been around him when this happened they were genuinely floored

Not only is Hotch capable of burping but he’s capable of full on belching!

I think he tends to burp quite a bit right after eating in general but they’re a lot more tame when he doesn’t overeat

Penelope definitely carries tums specifically for him but he hasn’t yet realized that that’s why she always seems to have them

He never asks for them either sometimes he’ll press a few gross burps into his fist in a row and she just taps him on the shoulder and hands them to him

Despite his behavior at work I think he’s a lot more relaxed about it when he’s at home with Jack

He doesn’t really bother muffling them aside from bringing a fist to his open mouth

Of course he still excuses himself though, he has to set a good example for Jack

Speaking of Jack he’s 100% the kinda kid to rat Hotch out to the team like “daddy burped so loud in the car on the way here it sounded like a monster”

And Hotch is like “Jack 😐 Jack why 😐”

I think the only member of the team that has heard him fully let one out without holding back at all is, of course, Rossi

And it’s definitely because he was drunk

There’s a reason we don’t see him drink very often and it’s because beer riles his stomach up

also babes is def lactose intolerant and babes also def ignores said lactose intolerance and eats whatever anyway

his stomach is genuinely always some flavor of upset poor guy 💀

Here’s a video example of what I think his super big earthquakey ones sound like

[thelampisaflashlight]

My overall experience in terms of things like, my gender or even my sexuality basically all boils down to, "I'm just some guy."

I care more about being able to be open and honest/authentic with people these days than I did when I confined myself to the mold society wanted me to fit into.

I don't think at any point I have really looked at myself and gone, "You're this, you have to be this."

I'd much rather be a mystery flavored lollipop than say root beer or peach.

You can guess at what I taste like, but, ultimately, it's still left up to chance.

I'd say, overall, I'm a melon soda in a wash of lemon and cola.

Some people get it, and they can vibe, and other people don't, and that's on them.

It is what it is as they say.

[flannelepicurean]

A Hannigram, a Lawrusso, and a Kakavege walk into a bar...

Okay so I was over on reddit going HAM in a thread about what would happen if your three fave OTPs were stuck in a room together for 24 hours. And I had SO MUCH FUN thinking about it, and writing up an absolutely crack-tastical summary, and I wanna share it with you mellifluous organisms.

The dynamic duos are Johnny Lawrence/Danny LaRusso (Lawrusso), of Cobra Kai; Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham (Hannigram), of NBC's Hannibal; and Goku/Vegeta (Kakavege) of Dragon Ball Z.

The room itself is... I'm picturing like, not quite a middle-school gymnasium, not quite a "this is definitely not a psychological experiment, just trust us on this," vibe.

Anyway, here's how it goes down:

Johnny and Goku become best friends almost immediately. Johnny offers him some slightly-expired sandwich meats from a random pocket while they're chillin' on some folding chairs, and Goku is like BOY HOWDY, WOULD I EVER!!!

Hannibal is disgusted by this. Danny is disgusted by this. Vegeta is just generally annoyed. They become The Mean Girls, they are a clique, now.

Will gets jealous and pouts in the corner. And starts scheming.

Johnny and Goku are insufferable. Two class clowns with "Wanna go ride bikes?!" energy, except middle-aged men who do martial arts. They CANNOT calm down. They CANNOT be tamed.

Will wanders by the Mean Girls table and suggests that Hannibal could easily outdo that fucking pocket ham, that's not even food, Hannibal knows food. And then he wanders away.

Hannibal preps a dinner party. Don't ask me how he got all this stuff. He probably just...found it in a closet. Don't anyone ask too many questions. Shh.

Danny's a teensy bit put off; for all his pretense to being almost high-society now, this is...really avant-garde. He's really boxed macaroni at heart, regardless of his quinoa. Before Johnny can even get a full, "WHAT THE FUCK," out, Goku and Vegeta are horfing down fish jello and unsavory Bostonians and the floral arrangements and everything like they've never been fed once in their entire lives.

Hannibal's pupils shrink. His stabbin' hand gets a little tense. Will smugs into his wine glass. Danny and Johnny hold very still. Then exchange a glance. Then hold very still some more.

The Saiyans, however, are fairly complimentary of the food, and Hannibal is a little torn. Goku’s like, “DO YOU HAVE MORE? IS THERE GONNA BE DINNER?” Hannibal sneaks a glance at Johnny, at the very edge of his peripheral vision, and gives a polite smile. Will sips wine.

Hannibal does his best to get Johnny alone so he can turn him into the main course. But he’s always running wild with Goku or hanging all over Danny when Goku decides to go bother Vegeta.

Goku keeps randomly asking about dinner. Not necessarily to Hannibal, just generally like, “Boy, I wonder when dinner’s gonna be,” and, “Man, I can’t wait for dinner!” and, “I wonder where he got the jiggly fish. I hope there’s jiggly fish again. The jiggly fish was good. Man, I hope we have dinner soon.”

Eventually Hannibal deputizes Will to try and get Johnny away from Danny, which Will agrees to with full spousal support appropriate of a murder husband.

Will asks if the Lawrussos can help them with the wine selection? They’re gonna need a really sophisticated palate to properly pair the beverages for the evening, with the many intricate courses, and they’re not serving beer, can’t get it for some reason, so if they can go over a very detailed list of notes on the flavor profiles of— And Johnny’s like NOT IT. But Danny gladly follows Will to the cellar (other corner of the room) for the Amontillado. There's a wine rack there, now.

Hannibal asks Vegeta if he could kindly guide Goku in setting the table, in preparation for dinner? Goku just about does a backflip. Hannibal provides an EXTREMELY complex diagram for the table setting that includes some entirely made-up utensils that he assures them are somewhere in the very extensive utensil kit. Or the credenza. Or several other pieces of cabinetry which now reside in the room.

Finally isolated with Johnny, Hannibal attempts some banter before going in for the kill. Johnny rags on him for being a nerd who dresses like a weirdo and talks like a book with no pictures on the cover and doesn’t even serve beer at a dinner party. Hannibal makes one packaged ham/long pig quip and leaps into action.

Johnny, however, is not exactly a stranger to knife fights, and he knows KARATE. So they have an instantaneous realization about each other, and one full-chested, “HEY, FUCK YOU, PAL!!!” later, we’ve got a Situation.

Danny and Will both immediately assess the Situation and rush in; Danny goes classic feral purse chihuahua, and Will goes rabid mongoose.

Goku and Vegeta turn away from their imminent crime of passion about where the goddamn ostrich spoons are, and fly over and hover above the situation for like… two seconds. They exchange a perplexed glance.

The Saiyans land on the periphery of the melee, and Vegeta fires one good blast into the ceiling, and everything screeches to a halt.

Goku starts making an impassioned speech in the “Have you forgotten the true meaning of Christmas?” genre. Except the point is that they were all supposed to be MAKING DINNER TOGETHER.

Hannibal’s pocket square nearly ignites from pure Had Enough of This Shit, but at the first twitch of that chef’s knife, Vegeta raises a hand like, “Bitch, don’t even try me.”

Goku summons a figurative Spirit Bomb onto the conflict to ask if they can please, please stop fighting…and just make dinner. He’s really hungry.

Danny realizes that, hey…he’s actually really hungry, too. And sometimes he gets a little hot-headed when he’s—

Will finally snaps and says, okay, enough is enough. You all think you’re so cute and adorable and interesting, but he does NOT find you that interesting, you are LOUD, and RUDE, and WEIRD, and he just wants to go home and spend some quality time with his HUSBAND. And his dogs!

Hannibal has a breakthrough realization, because Will didn’t say “dogs” first, and is like, Babe, I would never, I love you so much, OMG, you’re right, I’ll spend less time with my weird new friends and pay more attention to you. GASP! HOLY SHIT, WAS THIS A SCHEME, DID YOU SCHEME ME?! That's so romantic, I LOVE YOU, MONGOOSE!!!

Everyone kinda stares at them in horror. Danny’s like, “…Okay, that’s toxic.” And Johnny’s like, “Wait, were you gonna eat me?!” But Hannibal’s like, “Gentlemen, who here can say that we have not done something banana-butter-bonkersauce for the man we love?” And everybody just kinda looks away from each other extremely uncomfortably for a second. But then they grin at their partner a little.

And Danny’s like, “…You know, I bet I could make a mac and cheese in here…” And Hannibal’s like, “I think I saw some white truffles…”

✨And it’s a dinnertime miracle.✨

[truevedicastrology]

I have my Sun, Moon & Mercury in Sagittarius in the 5th house. With a Cancer ascendant. And Venus and Mars in Capricorn in the 7th house. I have two stelliuim in my chart. What does that mean for me.

Cosmic Cocktail: Sagittarius Stellium & Capricorn Power Couple 🏹🌟🐐

Oh my stars! ✨ You've got quite the celestial party going on in your chart! Let's break down this cosmic conga line and see what it means for you, you celestial superstar! 🌠

🦀 Cancer Rising: The Cosmic Bouncer

First off, with Cancer as your ascendant, you're like the celestial bouncer of the zodiac:

Outward Persona: Nurturing, intuitive, and maybe a bit moody (but in a cute way!)

First Impression: "Aww, they seem so sweet and caring!" (Little do they know about your wild Sagittarius side... 😉)

Superpower: Emotional intelligence that's off the charts! 📊💕

🏹 Sagittarius Stellium in the 5th House: Party Central! 🎉

Hold onto your horoscopes, folks, because this is where things get wild!

Sun in Sagittarius: Your core self is all about adventure, philosophy, and shooting for the stars (literally and figuratively).

Moon in Sagittarius: Your emotional self is equally adventurous. Emotional stability? More like emotional skydiving!

Mercury in Sagittarius: Your mind is a non-stop idea factory with a side of foot-in-mouth syndrome.

All of this in the 5th house? It's like the universe decided to throw a cosmic kegger in the fun zone of your chart!

What this means for you:

Creativity on Steroids: You probably come up with 50 brilliant ideas before breakfast.

Romance is an Adventure: Your love life is never boring. It's probably part rom-com, part Indiana Jones movie.

Risk-Taker Extraordinaire: "Play it safe" isn't in your vocabulary. You're more likely to say, "Hold my beer and watch this!"

Eternal Student of Life: You're always learning, growing, and probably enrolling in random classes for fun.

Life of the Party: You don't just attend parties, you ARE the party. 🎊

🐐 Capricorn Power Couple in the 7th House: Cosmic Adults in the Room

Now, let's talk about your Venus and Mars hanging out in Capricorn in the 7th house. It's like having the cosmic power couple chaperoning your wild Sagittarius party!

Venus in Capricorn: You may act wild, but deep down, you crave stability in love. You're not just looking for a partner; you're looking for a co-CEO for your life.

Mars in Capricorn: When it comes to going after what you want, you're like a determined mountain goat scaling Everest. Unstoppable!

In the 7th house of partnerships, this combo is potent:

Power Couple Vibes: You're attracted to ambitious, goal-oriented partners. Netflix and chill? More like strategic planning and excel.

Slow and Steady Wins the Race: In relationships, you're in it for the long haul. No U-Haul on the second date for you!

Work Hard, Play Hard: You know how to balance your wild Sagittarius energy with your grounded Capricorn side. It's like having an inner party animal and an inner CEO.

🌟 Double Stellium Drama: Cosmic Tug-of-War

Having two stelliums is like hosting two competing radio stations in your brain. Sometimes they harmonize, sometimes it's cosmic cacophony!

What it means for you:

Internal Conflict: Part of you wants to jet off to Bali on a whim, while the other part is worrying about your 401k.

Depth and Versatility: You have the unique ability to be both the free-spirited philosopher and the grounded realist.

Never a Dull Moment: Your inner world is rich, complex, and probably worthy of its own reality TV show.

Potential for Greatness: With all this cosmic firepower, you have the potential to achieve amazing things... if you can get all your inner planets to cooperate!

🎭 The Cosmic Bottom Line

You, my celestial friend, are a fascinating mix of fire and earth, adventure and stability, wild dreams and practical ambitions. You're like a cosmic cocktail that shouldn't work but somehow creates flavor explosions!

Your life path might look something like this:

Morning: Plan to conquer the world

Afternoon: Spontaneously book a trip to a country you can't pronounce

Evening: Create a detailed budget for said trip while philosophizing about the meaning of life

Embrace your contradictions, balance your energies, and remember: with great cosmic power comes great cosmic responsibility (and probably some great cosmic parties too)! 🎉🌠

Now go forth and dazzle the world with your unique blend of sagacious wisdom and capricornian ambition! The stars have dealt you a wild hand – play it with gusto! 🃏✨

[vampirologist]

a marketing company trapped in time since the year 2000 has contracted you to help them run a promotion for Angel and Buffy themed sodas. You have to pick five characters to have their own flavor - who are you picking, what are the flavors? (bonus points for if they have dumb names, specific colors/packaging, etc)

angel has a red colored cherry soda ofc so that it resembles blood <3 the packaging has bubbles that are blood droplets instead. the flavor is called “blood cherry”

buffy has a clear citrus flavored soda. the packaging has citrus fruits with stakes through them. it’s called “citrus slay”

willow’s is a root beer. tree imagery packaging with a purple can. it is called “willow root”

cordelia’s is a cream soda called “creme de la creme” as she is the best of the best <3 the can is shiny and with sparking bubbles as the design

and finally… xander has a ginger ale. now that I think about it this would have been funny if it was willow but she gave me root beer vibes. anyways. it’s “ale-xander” and its design features like squiggles and shapes

each can has a picture of the character and their name of course

[lucithekingofhell]

HELLO! How ya doin’? Good to talk again!

I'm feeling a bit…. Factual today… and to continue the theme of yesterday how bout a few facts about my favorite bird!

Crows like shiny things (ex: bottle caps from beer or Coke glass bottles) and they remember faces too! So if you feed them they will correlate you with said food and give you shiny things! Oh oh! My favorite one! A group of 3 or more is called a Murder, but a pair is called an attempted murder!

I am a person of many facts on odd things! I guess that comes from my ADHD. Speaking of ADHD….

Have you ever been tested for ADHD or some other neurodivergent disorder? You give off the vibe of someone who's some flavor of neurodivergent. I've also found that I'm better than the average person at seeing someone who thinks similarly to a neurodivergent or is one. Soooo are you?

Onto today's joke!

Hmmm 🤔 what joke for today🤔🤔🤔 choices choices….

How bout something you probably have a lot of down there? Priests! HAH that's a joke in itself! Anyway!…

What do you call a priest that has a law degree?

A Father in law!🤭🤭🤭🤭

"hello again! Doing well, thanks for asking!"

//Zoe: he's lying

"shut up, anyways that's all very interesting, it's also kinda curious how they call a group of 3 murder, and a pair attempted murder! A little funny if I do say so myself! Oh, I don't believe to have any disorder, didn't know they even existed before. So no I haven't tested for ADHD or some other neurodivergent disorder, and no I don't have it. HAHA, Oh you always get me with your jokes!"

[victoriouscabaret]

Get to know you - tag game!

I was tagged by @preciouslittlebhaalbae - thank you! <3

Last song you listened to:  Bad Girls - M.I.A.

Favorite color: Green!

Currently watching: Nothing really. If I'm having a bath and don't feel like reading I'm working through Penny Dreadful again, but that's it. I found my ability to sit on the couch and watch things for extended periods went away when I quit smoking for some reason. Probably because being idle = cravings, so the more occupied I keep myself the better. Looking forward to the latest season of The Boys though!

Favorite flavor: Cherry flavored anything is usually a win for me. I crave that red dye. Bequeath unto mine buds the taste of red.

Current obsession: BG3 (Especially Astarion) has bewitched me, body and soul (I just left this from @preciouslittlebhaalbae's answer because it seemed stupid to delete it and re-type basically the exact same thing.) Also currently v obsessed with writing again for the first time in many years. Can I be obsessed with personal growth? Because that too.

Last thing I googled: "Do mosquitos bite more than once?" (I have Type O blood and they LOVE me because of it, but I'm also extremely allergic to their saliva, so the first few bites I get each summer are exceptionally reactive. I also have bed bug related PTSD having had two terrible experiences with them (I'm also very allergic to them), most recently a couple years ago, so like... every bug related itch immediately sends my mind to bed bugs.) If I was bitten by a vampire, I would probably go into anaphylactic shock or something.

Favorite season: Autumn! Summer is too hot, Spring is too unpredictable, and Winter can fuck all the way off. Autumn generally still has warm enough weather to enjoy being outside, the colours are utterly stunning, you get to wear fashionable and cozy clothing, it's spooky season, the air smells amazing, and it just has a vibe about it that makes me feel happy and peaceful.

Skill I’d like to learn: I'd like to explore archery/marksmanship more. I've done some over the years, and I have a bit of a knack for it (full disclosure: most of my "practice" has been in my eventual husband's garage with the fellas, many beers deep, lining up empties on the garage door frame and taking turns taking pot shots with my air soft gun. Ditto archery - just in our backyard years later with my little brother's recurve bow. It's just a really lovely feeling to have a bunch of big, burly mountain men arguing over who wants you around in the event of the apocalypse. I would hate to let them down.)

Best Advice: Don't worry so much about what people think - it's easier said than done, but really most people are actually too wrapped up in their own shit to care, and as long as what you're doing isn't actively harmful to yourself or anyone else, they can get over it (or not, because their feelings aren't your responsibility either :D)

Tags if you'd like to play! : @marlowethebard @scrytpe @myheartismadeofstars @thefallenangelsgang @babblebrain-blog @xxnashiraxx