over dose

4

The Angels helping you after your first broken heart

Warnings : Angst


You used to think you were incapable of romantic feelings, that was, until you met him. He flipped your world around, made you feel things you didn’t even know were possible, and then, he dropped you as if you were nothing to him. It hurt more than any physical wound ever had.

You spent your nights in tears and your days trying to figure out what you did wrong. You were a mess, to say the least.

“(Y/n), you need to get outside.” Castiel held you in his lap, letting you rest your head on his chest. “The Winchesters are starting to pray to me in hopes that I’ll bring you back to them. I know you’re hurt-”

“Cas, please.” You almost sobbed. He noticed the tears in your voice and squeezed you a little tighter.

“Okay.” He whispered, resting his chin on your head. “I’ve got you..”

-

“There we go.” Gabriel hummed his contentment, turning you towards the mirror so you could admire his work. Your hair was curled, beautifully framing your face.

“Wow, Gabe.” You allowed yourself to smile at your reflection. You hadn’t done your hair or makeup since he left you, so the change took you off guard. “Thank you..”

“No, thank you for being my canvas.” The angel tugged on one of your curls and then let go, watching it bounce back in place. “You’re gorgeous, ya know that?” You shook your head, smiling a bit. It could have been mistaken for nervousness, but nothing ever got passed Gabriel. “I’m serious, (Y/n). Listen, I, um.. Well, I know that you’ve been questioning yourself lately. You don’t feel beautiful anymore and I hate that because when I look at you, I see absolute perfection. You truly are the finest thing my father ever created.” Your heart felt like a balloon by the end of Gabriel’s declaration. You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t speak. You threw your arms around him and hugged him so tight that you felt him struggle for air. “C'mon, babe, women can only handle me in small doses. Don’t over do it.”

-

Balthazar had a different method of mending a broken heart and you couldn’t really say that you were disappointed.

“Alright, doll, drink up.” He handed you a small glass of amber liquid and you drank without hesitation. “Slowly.” Balthazar scolded with a grin.

“Shut up.” You waved him off, setting the empty glass on the table as the room began spinning. “Woah..” You swayed in your seat, falling over on the angel’s shoulder.

“Told you so.” He sighed, sipping on the liquor. “Nothing eases the human body like alcohol and sex.”

“One down.” You rolled over so that you could lay your head in his lap and look up at him. “How about the latter?” You winked.

“Oh, you would suggest that when you’re vulnerable and I have to say no, you little minx.” Balthazar groaned. “Another time.” He kissed your head and settled for running his fingers through your hair.

-

“I’ll kill him.” Lucifer promised. You shook your head, grinning at the fuming angel.

“Want to?” You joked, but you knew your jokes would fuel him. “Wanna be my accomplice?”

“Darling, I’ll do the job myself.” You knew he was serious. The devil would do anything for you as long as you said please.

“I don’t need him dead.” You sighed and watched his face fall with disappointment. “I want him to live a long life, knowing he lost the best thing that has ever happened to him. He’ll suffer.” You watched Lucifer’s mouth slowly turn into a sinister smirk.

“You really are malicious.” He purred, moving closer to you.

“I’ve learned from the best.”

2

170320 x daily dose of day6 

2

Daily dose of Misha

Misha and shat wine tasting 10-06-2014

First we have Misha trying to look like a super villain with all that serious look and the Dom!Misha eyebrow, and then the sunshine.

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3

Summary: A series of firsts; Betty and Jughead explore the steamy side of being a couple.

Read on AO3

(Warning: MUCH SIN AHEAD! This is a pure smutty fic, way explicit and utterly graphic. It follows Betty and Jughead down the road of testing the waters with each other until the inevitable happens ;) You asked, so I deliver :P I also tried to incorporate it into the plot of Rivedale in order for the story to have a much more realistic sense in a way! Anyway, thank you so much darlings for your compliments and your amazing feedback!! I hope you all enjoy!)


 La Petite Mort - 1. Innocence Lost

I’m a high school lover, and you’re my favorite flavor

Love is all, all my soul

You’re my playground love

A light breeze caresses the leaves of the oak tree next to Betty’s opened window and twirls inside her dimly lit room to the beat of some mellow tunes that echo lightly from her golden rose laptop. The ruffle curtains sway under the feathery force of the physical change that disrupted the otherwise calm evening, the shadow of the sheer material dancing over the profile of the two teens that are tangled up with each other on the princess-like double bed at the center of the room.  They are in their own world of first time loving and blissful adolescent ignorance, enjoying the momentary peace and quiet of their hectic small town, drama-filled lifestyle, getting lost in the feeling of drowning deeper and deeper in a sea of amour and lust.

Wet sounds of tongues lazily exploring the new-found territory of each other’s lips and steady beating of two Eros wounded hearts are suppressed by the singer’s voice that urges them to carry on in the background and Jughead is ashamed to admit that his mind fails to register what movie that song musically decorated, even though he swears it’s in the tip of his tongue. But then again the tip of his tongue is now being sucked by Betty Cooper’s voluptuous lips and he can hardly pinpoint anything anymore, not even his own name.

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Misery Needs Company

it sounded like @copperbadge was having One of Those Weekends, so i asked if he’d like some fic and he requested someone with a headache getting coddled

feel better!

“Tony!” Pepper calls and he flinches.

A headache going on day three is sitting like a pulsating rock in his frontal lobe and the pitch of her voice is enough to send a needle point of pain inward.

Pepper pauses, looks at him for five seconds, and then says, voice lowered, “When did it start?”

“On the way home from NBC?” Tony tries because he honestly isn’t sure.

Pepper stares at him. “That was two days ago.”

“Yeah,” Tony sighs.

Tony,” she says, sounding appalled.

“What?” he replies defensively. “I’ve gotten six hours of sleep the last four nights, I’ve eaten regularly, I’ve only had like four cups of coffee per day, and I haven’t gone over the recommended dose of over-the-counter painkillers even though I know you can go over that and be fine!”

“Tony, that wasn’t criticism,” Pepper says, her expression sympathetic and her hand light on his arm.

“Oh,” Tony says, and deflates. “I’m tired and I’ve been sleeping,” he whines. “How is that fair?”

“It’s not.” She nudges him forward gently and Tony moves as directed, reaching up to dig his knuckles into his forehead. If he presses hard enough, it briefly dulls the pain. “Come on. We’re done for today.”

Tony should protest. There’s still a lot to do. But it feels good to have someone take the reins and he doesn’t have it in him to fight when he wants to do what she says so badly.

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2

the grisha trilogy meme: [1] moment that touched you more deeply than the rest

“But you did something to the King, something from which the court doctors said he’d never recover. What was it?”
Poison.”
“Surely it could have been traced.”
“Not this. I designed it myself. If given in small enough doses over a long enough time, the symptoms are mild.”
“A vegetable alkaloid?” asked David.
She nodded. “Once it builds up in the victim’s system, a threshold is reached, the organs begin to fail, and the degeneration is irreversible. It’s not a killer. It’s a thief. It steals years. And he will never get them back.”

Fleming’s mold wasn’t able to produce penicillin in large enough quantities to be useful. Early researchers had to grow entire forests of mold on every available surface of their laboratory in order to extract enough penicillin to treat one single infection. If scientists found a cure for cancer today, but it took the entire crop yield of Kansas to grow a single dose, would it matter?

Enter Mary Hunt, a lab assistant who worked with penicillin molds. She went shopping at a local fruit market and bought a cantaloupe covered in a strange looking golden mold. She decided to take it back to the lab to test it and found a hitherto undiscovered strain capable of producing 200 times the amount of penicillin. By the next year, hundreds of millions of units of penicillin were being produced in the United States, medical science became radically more effective, and that fruit market probably still kind of sucked.

Regardless, this chain of events allowed the USA to produce 2.3 million doses of penicillin just in time for the invasion of Normandy. They reached over 600 million doses by the end of the war. The rates of death from bacterial infections dropped from 18 percent in WWI to 1 percent in WWII, which allowed the Allied forces to keep their manpower – already in short supply – on the field and engaging the enemy. It may not have won the second World War on its own, but it sure gave the Allies a boost. You’re not reading this in German today because some small-time produce salesman looked at one particularly gross cantaloupe and said, “Eh, some jerk’ll probably still buy this.”

5 Coincidences That Made The Modern World

Day 1.

I walk into my first shift as a veterinarian. My. First. Ever. Shift. My first ever shift as a vet and an emergency one at that (I also questioned why I decided to make being a new grad harder for myself). I walk in wearing my brand new, freshly ironed scrubs with my stethoscope hanging around my neck, my new name tag pinned perfectly on my top depicting that “yes, I am a doctor now” (despite the fact I do not feel like one) and my Mini Vet Guide tucked securely in my left pocket. I spent a majority of the day studying (read: freaking out followed by spending 3 hours laying in my bath reflecting on why I stupidly decided to become a vet), with a feeling of absolute and utter raw fear building in the bottom of my stomach. To say I was petrified was an understatement.

“Your first consult is here”, says the vet on shift with me. I swear if there were ECG leads hooked up to me in that moment, the trace would depict a sudden surge of tachycardia (on top of my pre-existing, anxiety induced tachycardia). I stare blankly at the computer screen, the consult note says “acute onset vomiting and diarrhoea”. In that moment, everything I know about vomiting and diarrhoea vanishes. Great. All I want to do is run. 

I walk out to the waiting room. “Hello, my name is Olivia and I am one of the emergency vets, I believe your little one isn’t well”. Introducing myself for the first time as a veterinarian to a client and patient has got to be the most surreal experience. I still sometimes feel like I am still a student in first year, learning the basics of anatomy and physiology. I still cannot believe that I have made it through those 6 grueling years and am standing here today in front of my first patient. 

I get a thorough history, perform my physical examination and explain to the owners that I am going to grab a blood pressure and temperature in the treatment room. I walk out the back, my patient in my arms, and feel like I am in another world. It is up to me to decide what to do with this sweet little dog. I have to decide if I want to admit to hospital, what to treat with and what the plan is going to be. It is all on me. I finally decide on my treatment plan, and it is announced that my second consult is waiting - a dog with a fishhook in his leg. Onto the next one. 

I have been thrown into the deep end working in emergency. I feel as though I am doggy paddling my way through it. I ask a heap of silly questions, I second guess myself constantly,  I do dose calculations 4-5 times just to be sure that I am not under or over dosing a patient. I constantly run my treatment plans past someone more senior. All I want to do, is the best I can for my patients. 

I survived day 1. I am now at day 22 and am still surviving. 

I remember growing up and hearing the topic of drugs. Always being warned. We could over dose, or get diseases or end up looking 50 when we’re 30. But nobody ever fucking warns us about the actual scary parts. They don’t tell you about lying in bed at 3am because you honestly can’t sleep. And you’re alone. And you can’t stop crying. And you feel like you have this monster inside of your body just trying to rip itself out. They never tell you that feinding for dope actually isn’t the worst thing. The worst thing is that you can no longer be “normal”. You’re not that girl who can have a few beers at the party and enjoy herself. You’re the girl who is drowning herself in alcohol while figuring out ways that she can rationalize ditching all her “normal” friends to go and pick up meth or oxy or just anything because she simply cannot live another minute inside of her own skin when she’s sober. They never fucking tell you that.