A message to witches/pagans/lumberjacks out there: As Christmas/Yuletide comes around I know you’re going to want to burn Yew for both its ceremonial properties and it’s slow burn, but please remember that it is a HIGHLY TOXIC tree with VERY toxic smoke. Fatalities in livestock, children, and even some adults have occurred for CENTURIES because of the handling and burning of this wood. I mean, death due to this stuff dates back to the Roman times and further! I would avoid it in the fires as much as I could.
Every time I think I’ve found them, I lose them.
Every time I think they’re right, I’m wrong.
Every time they tell me they like me, on the inside I weep because I know they’re just infatuated. When they get past the smoke and mirrors I’m intolerable, I’m unintelligent, I’m needy and uneventful. I’m not worth their time.
For some it comes quick for others it comes slow. But for everyone it’s just a matter of time before they leave me lonely.
(c/n) and you laying outside on a big blanket with a grass everywhere and nobody to bother you and he has a cigarette that you both switch off smoking and his phone playing soft music while his eyes stay closed listening to the lyrics. Earlier that day cal got pissed at a jerk flirting with you so you guys drove out here and he’s pissed off and his hair is messy and he took off his sunglasses while you just admired him and his features you were laying on your stomach and you occasionally took the cigarette out of his mouth and he let you take a breath and exhale the toxic smoke before placing it back on his lips where it was before and he still had that grumpy look which you curious to what he was thinking and you waited a long time before you spoke up a little buzzed from the nicotine just kind of feeling floaty and from staring at (c/n) for so long “how can such a bad boy like you have such chubby cheeks but a jaw line that cuts glass?” You ask placing a finger on his cheek, poking the squishy skin then trailing it down along his jaw and to his mouth that had those full lips and you placed your lips on them still smelling the smoke and getting lost in the music. “How can a beautiful girl, my girl, get hit on by a guy when she already has me,” he says with attitude, breathing out the smoke. The cigarette became just a small stub so he flicked it and pulled another out of his pocket but you took it from his hands before he could start another smoke. He furrowed his eyebrows and tried reaching behind you to get it. You only put it farther and farther behind you until he was sitting up with you straddled between one of his Jean clad legs. “I need this (y/n).” He pouted and tried reaching again. You kept the cigarette in your back pocket. “Well I need you so what’s it gonna be?” He sighed and looked up into your eyes and laid back down onto the blanket. “My girl”. You smiled at him and went back down to kiss his lips with more force, having him keep his hands on your legs while your hands held his neck and shoulder. He broke the kiss only to say, “you are so much better than nicotine.” /p>
For some reason, I decided that including a passage about recovering from inhaling toxic smoke (*don’t* ask me what smoke, because… I don’t have a clue) in an ICU was a sound thing to do in my WIP.
Now, I’m work in medicine/psych, but… no; I don’t have any reliable knowledge about lungs that have been exposed to trauma. And let’s not even pretend I know anything about medical care in the ICU unless it’s about overdosing. It is, so to say, “not my division”. But since I do love medical accuracy…
Is there anyone out there that might want to fact check a few passages for me when I’m done with the draft…?
Jin laid on the ground, cigarette in his mouth and blood drying
on his face. His tousled blond hair flopped in his face as he took a drag,
inhaling the toxic smoke and letting it burn in his system. His dark hooded
eyes traveled to look at the body beside him, her perfect figure laying
lifelessly in her silk robes as the pool of crimson stained the ground beneath
As Jin sighed, smoke escaped his lips in a thick cloud,
blurring his vision. His thumb tapped on the cigarette, the ashes falling onto
the floor next to his face and the smell filling up the room. Raising his wrist
to meet his eyes, Jin was sure someone would be coming to see this – it’d be
best to leave soon, but something in the cold-blooded killer didn’t want to
leave her side.
Closing his eyes and letting the last of the smoke blow out
of his nostrils, Jin sat up, extinguishing the flame of the cigarette on the
ground., Jin eyed the morning sun as he slid the glass door open, walking out
onto the balcony and feeling the ocean breeze brush the hair out of his face.
Swinging one foot onto the concrete fence after another, Jin looked down at the
roaring ocean below him, the jagged rocks on the shore looking sharper than he
His jaw clenched at the thought of jumping off. Squeezing
his eyes shut, Jin’s thoughts wandered about before he jumped– thinking about
the corpse in the room.
Before I met you I picked up a cigarette.
Gave my reason: I like to kill myself slowly.
I smoked everyday till you crossed my path.
I kicked the habit because I didn’t want to murder the boy I loved most because I wanted to die.
You smelled of smoke anyway.
Your father smoked in the house.
It was enough to stimulate my cravings.
After we split, I stopped at the gas station and bought a pack.
I lit one up and smoked my lungs black,
Just to try to bring you back.
But you never did.
Every day, I sat on my porch, cigarette in hand, missing you like crazy.
You stopped coming around because I failed you.
I was your cigarette, slowly draining the oxygen from your lungs every time our lips met.
My love was a toxic smoke that suffocated you.
I never wanted to hurt you.
You didn’t read the warning label when you picked me up from the corner store.
You just brought me home, tried to fix me up, but you inhaled my secondhand smoke and asphyxiated your mind.
I crushed you into the ground, putting out the dying embers of a love that never was.
Sa much as I love Warpo’s Cthulhu figures, in my mind the best toy simulation of an eldritch abomination will forever be Hasbro’s Flubber. released in the 60s as a tie-in to Disney’s Son of Flubber.
Due to its chemical composition it caused horrible rashes and infections on the skin of children and had to be recalled, but dumps would not take it, it could not be buried at sea because it floated, and it could not be burned because of the horrible toxic smoke it released.
So, instead, they buried it under what became a parking lot, where it is said on hot days; you can still see the Flubber ooze up from between the cracks.
Now, if that doesn’t simulate a Lovecraftian horror on a toyetic level to a T, then IDK what does…
Since my introductory ask was crazy-depressing (sorry), here's some cool and random knowledge instead. Unfortunately, I don't really have any mythology from where I live, but I have the next best thing- weird-ass stories about my hometown. So there's this place called Grover's Mill where I live- it's practically across the street, and it's a completely unexceptional field in a completely unexceptional town. However, in 1938 it was brought to national attention (1/3)
…but over something that never even happened. A radio broadcast announced to the entire country that Martians had touched down on Earth, and were planning to wage war against humanity. The entire US, and New Jersey especially, flipped its shit, not only with news of fainting and heart attacks, but people who seriously believed that they had been shot with Scary Martian Death Rays or inhaled toxic spaceship smoke. (2/3)
But the whole thing was a hoax- the radio broadcast was based on a HG Wells novel, and the fact that things were reported like they were happening was meant to add dramatic effect, not induce nationwide hysteria. Not even Grover’s Mill as the setting was intentional- it was decided randomly, at the last minute, at a gas station. But now, thanks to the alien war that never happened, my hometown now has a freaking cool monument to the Martians. - History Nerd Anon (3/3)
Oh, yes, the Orson Welles hoax! I had no idea that there was a monument, though!