#// rocky recovery

[sugarsweetwriter]

┇(Cult) Whump Recovery… (Whumper is referred to as The Leader/God)

"Do you remember what you were like before?" Caretaker asked gently. Too gently—and Whumpee hated it. Whumpee absolutely despised the softness, the kindness they always held in their voice as the sweetly coaxed Whumpee's secrets out of them, to, of course, use against them later—Whumpee thought. It was the same voice that The Leader would always use; Whumpee wondered why it scared, angered them so much to hear Caretaker take on the same tone. How could they dislike the same tone their God would use? It all confused, and immensely bothered, Whumpee.

"Yes, I do. I was sinful." Whumpee seethed. Their eyes darted around the room, before settling on the white, floral fabric, draped over their bruised thighs. The dress was apparently Caretaker's cousin's, and it was the only clean clothing they had when unexpectantly taking Whumpee in, only about a week ago. Since then, laundry had been done, but Whumpee seemed attached to the dress, and Caretaker wanted them to be as comfortable as possible. It was much prettier, silkier, than their previous, everyday-garment; a gray, modest dress which covered them from head to toe. It sat on them loosely, and was itchy at the seams, but that had never mattered.

Caretaker frowned at the response, but Whumpee hadn't dared to look up to see it.

"How were you sinful—if you're comfortable telling me?" Caretaker questioned—again, far too tenderly. Having sat at the foot of the bed for around 10 minutes now, Caretaker kept conversing with Whumpee—though it felt more like an interrogation for them.

Whumpee hesitated for a moment before answering:

"I.. I wasn't holy yet. I hadn't found The Leader yet—I hadn't found God yet. I hadn't begun worshipping them- and, so, I couldn't have been-.. righteous," Whumpee paused briefly, then continued.

"I would've.. never been forgiven if I had continued like that, but... Now, I'm sure I'll never be forgiven again… no matter how hard I could ever pray." Whumpee practically whispered the second half of the sentance, taking in a shaky breath before muttering the very last part—they sounded as if they were about to sob.

Caretaker sighed, sorrowfully, before slowly—very, very slowly—moving over towards Whumpee, to which Whumpee only stared at them for a moment before looking back down at their thighs. Hesitantly, Caretaker spoke:

"I know, I know it's scary—but none of that's.. true. Please.. know that you're safe. The Leader.." Caretaker hesitated, "God—can't hurt you, anymore. I promise. You're far away from them all now and I won't ever let anybody from back there hurt you ever again. You're safe" they finished.

Caretaker, now sitting knee to knee with Whumpee, looked back into their eyes, only to be met with a small, scarred, terrified, baby deer. Their eyes, yet again, frantically searched for a focus of interest around the room as tears spilt freely now, quiet sobs racking through their chest as they attempted to mutter a defensive response—but to no avail, as they could only let out pitiful whimpers.

How could Caretaker challenge The Leader? How could Caretaker challenge The God—the only being who knew true virtue? It went against all that Whumpee had known for the past four years. And deeply, it both shook and absolutely terrified Whumpee.

Once more, Caretaker moved towards Whumpee, little by little, attempting to look back at Whumpee's face—failing, since Whumpee's head was now lowered and pressed against their thighs, still covered by soft fabric.

"Whumpee… Can I touch you?" Cautiously, Caretaker asked—unsure as to whether Whumpee could even heard them through their now, much louder, sobs. Although, even through Whumpee's hysteric crying, Caretaker could've sworn they'd heard something among the lines of "Yes, okay". And so, steadily, they wrapped their arms around Whumpee, who quickly lifted their arms as well, almost instinctively, wrapping them shakily around Caretaker and burying their face in Caretaker's neck, breathing heavily and smearing their tears everywhere. Whumpee had been deprived of touch for so long, of course they’d take it now that they got the chance to.

After the shock of it all, Caretaker dotingly whispered sweet confirmations, holding Whumpee firmly yet tenderly, making sure to comfort Whumpee yet not trap them.

Words of "It's okay, it's all okay. I promise—you're safe. The Leader can't get to you here" were spoken, caringly.

Eventually, the cries died down, and Whumpee was left in Caretaker's arms, whimpering quietly, their arms now drooping down Caretaker's back.

"How... You're- you're wrong" Whumpee sniffled, well aware of how weak the defense was.

But they were so tired, and still, scared. Desperately, they just wanted to believe Caretaker—believe that they were safe, and believe even that god—not The Leader—but god, either didn't care—or know—about them, or didn't even exist to begin with.

Still terribly unsure of whatever the real truth of it may be—they feared The Leader was right, it was what they'd been taught for so long anyway—they just hoped, so wholeheartedly, but exhaustedly, hoped that they'd be okay. That they'd be safe, that they wouldn't be punished—not for leaving, or for daring to doubt The Leader, and even god.

At least now, in Caretaker's warm arms, they did, indeed, feel safe—for the first time in a very, very long time.

In response to Whumpee's defense, Caretaker only hummed affectionately. Truthfully, Caretaker was proud, so proud, of Whumpee. For the first time in the week they'd been staying with Caretaker, instead of hiding in the closet, or just uncontrollably sobbing and praying while pushing them away, they accepted touch, and comfort, help.

Caretaker knew it'd take a long, long time to work with Whumpee and work towards recovery; Whumpee was still working on processing the very notion that it all, that all of the punishments could've been for nothing. It wasn't as if they had never considered it before. They did at the start, and later on they wondered if—regardless of whether The Leader, or any god was real—anything could've made all that they had been through worth it. Eventually though, they became far too fearful to ever even consider any of it ever again.

Yet here, they slowly fall asleep on Caretaker, their weak body slumping onto them, head awkwardly positioned at their neck; to which Caretaker gently—not too gently this time; without saying anything in fact—positioned Whumpee's body in a more comfortable position, and as Whumpee slept, safely, and warm, Caretaker was sure of it now; they will never give up on Whumpee.

┇A/N: First writing on here! Posting this before my intro as well... it's 3 am now but I just had the urge to write and came up with this (touch starved Whumpee my beloved)... I haven't seen any cult whump recovery drabbles before, so here's one! Hopefully someone enjoyed my writing! ^^

[floral-comet-whump]

“HOW COULD YOU!” Whumpee cried, falling to their knees. “YOU’VE TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM ME!” + Caretaker

1. “I haven’t! No, Whumpee, I’m giving it back to you! Don’t you remember?! I’m your friend!”

2. “Please, you.. You need to learn to be free.”

3. “What did they do to you, Whumpee...”

4. “Really? Having someone to torture was your everything? That's pathetic.”

5. “I.. know it may be difficult to adjust, Whumpee. But please, this is for the better.”

6. “It’s okay. You���ll thank me one day.”

how to play

full credits to @/seth-whumps for the idea!! avoiding actually mentioning them, but they're linked

[gh0sthands]

rescued whumpee who practically lives on sedatives because its the only thing that can really give them relief from the ever-present anxiety that came with their trauma

[scumashling]

Kinda an extension of the one note relationship thing but as a mentally ill person who's had a relationship end in part because of this very reason, I really do not like it when a Whumpee is just. A sad traumatized sack of pity and nothing else in the story, and completely dependant on a Caretaker who has endless patience for them and endless time and energy to dedicate to Whumpee. No hate if fluffy escapist pity porn fiction is your thing, I get the appeal, but in real life, relationships like this are extremely unbalanced, lead to a lot of resentment between both parties, impedes the traumatized persons recovery, and tend to the Caretaker's needs and personhood being completely disregarded. I also just find it pretty boring. Healing from trauma is messy, so is dealing with severely traumatized person and yes, sometimes your trauma is burdensome on the people who care about you. And I think a good story about recovery will acknowledge this. Show me Caretakers at the end of their rope! Show me Whumpee's who are being unreasonable due to their trauma and who's wants aren't immediately caved to by Caretaker just because Whumpee is traumatized! Just! Show me the push and pull of their relationship and how they overcome it! Because if it's not easy then it makes it all the more fulfilling when they do make progress!

(Now, if what you're going for is intentionally writing codependency and unhealthy relationships that develop in the wake of trauma, that's a different story. I LOVE that shit. Inject that shit straight into my veins. But I go insane when this is done in other contexts.)

Things I hate in whump/survivor fiction

Content: general story tropes discussion

Characters that literally or figuratively "go limp" as soon as there's a gun (or any kind of threat that means they're officially kidnapped or something). Like, panic, my friend; things are not going well for you today.

Characters who don't have visceral reactions. It's not physically impossible to be this way. It's just not very relatable bc now there's no proof that you're even in pain.

Only describing sensations. There's so much symbolism in the body language, setting, positions, and it's a shame not to develop that dimension.

Characters with no inner conflict (like fighting back tears of shame, like telling themselves it'll be different this time as they do something stupid against their better judgement)

On that note, ANY characters without flaws--flaws deepen beauty

Flaws that don't impact the story

Characters without something awesome about them--and pls let it impact the story🙏

One-note relationships (caretaker always being concerned and whumpee always being triggered for example)

Whumpers not having multiple sides to their personality

Here's a weird one--evil protagonists. I just like it when I can root for the protagonist.

Whumper POV--i care a lot more about whumpee's inner struggle (btw I DO whumper POV to illustrate something the protagonist doesn't know about themselves but it still disgusts me.)

[thewhumpcaretaker]

🩷 Bratting in Whump 🩷

Maybe whumpee likes being taken care of, but can't work up the courage to say so. Maybe they think Caretaker will leave if they get better. Maybe they want physical contact and the only way they know how to ask for it is by being hurt. In any of these cases, they might do the equivalent of "bratting," except they're fishing for caretaking instead of punishment.

TW: Emotional manipulation, self harm, rocky recovery.

Whumpee mistreats a wound on purpose - for example, by pulling out a knife so that Caretaker now has to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. (Credit to this post, which inspired the whole list!)

Whumpee wants Caretaker to have to attend their wounds, so they take off their dressing or move too much and tear their stitches.

Whumpee goes outside in the rain on purpose to catch a cold/get sicker.

Whumpee charges into a dangerous battle, knowing that Caretaker will have to rescue them.

Whumpee purposefully deprives themself of sleep so they'll pass out in Caretaker's arms.

Whumpee pretends to be more hurt than they actually are and makes a big deal about the pain.

Whumpee notices that they're recovering already and fakes getting worse so that Caretaker keeps worrying about them.

Whumpee takes a small amount of poison so that they'll seem sick.

Whumpee purposefully views something that will trigger them, so that Caretaker will comfort them through the panic.

Whumpee fakes tears so that Caretaker will comfort them.

And finally, the moment when Caretaker realizes what's going on, and promises they'll be there for whumpee no matter what. "You don't have to be hurt for me to hold you. I want to, and I'll always be here. I promise."

[whumpspicelatte]

Bedside Vigil: Terry in "King's Counsel"

Terry's POV to @echo-goes-mmm's Aftermath (set just before)

Juno belongs to @echo-goes-aaa / @echo-goes-mmm

Warnings: implied self-harm, mention of suicidal ideation, aftermath of near-death experience from caretaker's POV

The room’s silence weighed down on Terrance’s shoulders, broken only by unsteady breathing. Juno’s fingers laid limp between the king’s hands. Long lines of smooth, perfectly untouched skin snaked down his boy’s scarred back where he had watched blood bubble and drool over skin and silks alike only hours before. 

Now, Terrance’s hair hung down his back, only a simple seafoam green robe over his bare skin, bare soles flat against cold marble. No makeup hid his split lip or black eye. No jewels gleamed over his skin. No crown weighed down his head. 

The sickening stench of freshly spilled blood still flooded his senses, despite having already allowed himself to be pried away to wash off every sticky drop staining his skin. 

He had nearly let himself drown in the bathwater. 

All of his advisors but elderly Duchess Delphine Valentin and Minister Edgard Thomas, the only ones who hadn’t been active, willing participants in his myriad punishments and backroom dealings, had been forced out of the castle with an ease that still left his head spinning. Perhaps the blood and bruises had been enough to shock his guards into action. Maybe not. He didn’t know. 

According to Court Mage Wright, the shock and blood loss was what kept Juno from stirring yet; that it may take an hour or two before he was up again. The potion for replenishing lost blood could only work so fast. 

And Terrance had first hand experience on how draining quickened healing could be on the body. Had felt his head spin as he swallowed down a healing potion aimed at the skeletal system himself, fractured bones in his wrists knitting back together. He hadn’t accepted any others. He didn’t deserve the others. 

So now it was just…a waiting game. Waiting for Juno to wake up. To come back to him. 

Waiting. 

Terrance stared down at Juno’s hand, gently curling and splaying out his boy’s fingers. Those lashes never even fluttered. There, amidst the pillows and blankets, Juno laid bare. Even if it felt…wrong. 

A proper pair of sleeping trousers waited, neatly folded, on the bedside table. Next to a tall glass of water and a plate of orange slices from the royal greenhouses and candied spiced nuts and freshly steamed clams. The food laid under a glass cover enchanted to keep everything fresh. 

Steam had coated the inside of the glass hours ago. 

Juno still hadn’t woken up. 

Terrance closed his eyes and did his best to breathe, slow and deep. Even though nobody else was here. Nobody but Juno. Nobody but his boy. 

Nobody but his boy, who still hadn’t woken up. 

His breath hitched, fingers shaking. His vision blurred. 

Here, there was only Juno. 

Nobody else was there to see the tears begin to dribble down his cheeks, shoulders shaking as they hunched. Nobody was there to hear him cry into Juno’s limp palm clutched between his hands. Nobody was there to watch as Terrance let himself dissolve into hitching sobs. 

Nobody was there to hear him beg. 

“Wake up.” His voice wobbled around the aching lump in his throat. “Please. Please wake up.”

If Juno didn’t wake up within the day, Wright had told him that meant something had gone wrong, and they’d need immediate magical-medical assistance. That if Juno’s breathing or heartbeat ever stopped, to immediately start emergency resuscitation magics while ringing for help to arrive. 

Juno’s heartbeat fluttered against Terrance’s thumb. 

The king’s tears slicked Juno’s skin, and all he could do was pray to gods he’d long since stopped believing in. 

He was overreacting. He knew he was overreacting. But seeing Juno like this was- wrong. On such a visceral level that made it feel like someone was tearing his heart out of his ribcage. 

It was just sleep. It wasn’t even a coma. It was sleep.

Wright had told him that Juno’s lack of magic, lack of that seed inherent in everyone born of Rhodantheian roots or on Rhodantheian soil, could lead to…complications. 

Juno’s breathing whistled in and out past his lips, and Terrance hid his face against that limp hand and quietly begged. 

“Wake up, Juno,” he pleaded, and his voice cracked. “Please just wake up. Wake up. Please, wake up, please.”

His boy didn’t stir. 

Terrance surrendered to the darkness once his sobs petered out, resting his head in his arms, cheek cushioned on his boy’s hand. That sluggish heartbeat pitter-pattered on, a faint fluttering against his skin. A reminder that his boy still lived. 

When that hand slipped out to pet his hair, a wounded noise slipped free as he melted into the gentle touch. 

He didn’t wake up. 

[diy-fire-water-pups]

Hey pups, I lost my mother a few days ago, can you say something they might make me happy please

First of all, we're sorry it took us some time to get to your ask. We get a lot of them and try our best to answer as much as we can.

Secondly... I know more or less how you feel. Long ago, when I was still a small puppy, I had my mother taken away from me and I had to run away. I never got to know if she's alive or not... Never heard anything, never got any clue to what happened to her after that.

Sometimes I think I'm forgetting what she looked or sounded like... And it scares me. But then I remember that, even if she goes away from my memories, the affection and care I know she had for me and my siblings, that will never go away. It stays with me forever and I get to keep living. I just hope to make her proud of the pup I'm becoming, wherever she may be right now.

I know that's what she wanted for me, to have a good life, to make friends, maybe even have a good owner... And I got the best owner a pup can ever dream of having, am I right? It may hurt a lot right now, but it's good, it means you love and care about her. This way, she will always be with you and you get to keep going.

[eriexplosion]

The only thing about Wolffe being in TBB season 3 is I really hope people aren't weird about the fact that he's probably going to be riding the imperial party line at least a little even if we see him dechipped. He's still in contact 15 years later after all, fully believing that they were betrayed by the Jedi, so its not likely to be quick or complete turn around if we even see it in this show.

[verticalmomentum1]

In this fast-paced world, we often find ourselves racing against time, chasing dreams and ambitions, and sometimes forgetting the true essence of life.

It's crucial to remember that life is fleeting, like a whisper in the wind. The famous boxer Apollo Creed once said, "There is no tomorrow," and his words resonate deeply when we ponder the brevity of our existence.

We are so engrossed in the pursuit of success and material possessions that we often overlook the most valuable gift we have - the present moment.

It's not about the presents we give; it's about our presence. Your family, your loved ones, and your friends need you more than any material gift you can offer.

Think about all the times you've postponed spending quality time with your family, promising to make it up 'someday.'

Life doesn't guarantee us a 'someday.' The truth is, every day is a gift, and it's our responsibility to unwrap it with enthusiasm and joy.

We must learn to live in the here and now, appreciating the small moments, the laughter, the shared stories, and the warmth of our loved ones.

Time is a precious resource, and once it's gone, it can never be reclaimed. Make each day count by embracing life's simple pleasures.

Whether it's watching a sunset, sharing a meal, or just being present in the moment, these are the memories that truly matter.

So, take a page from Apollo Creed's book and remember, "There is no tomorrow." Today is the day to express your love, make amends, and create lasting memories with those who matter most.

In the grand tapestry of life, it's not the material possessions that leave a lasting impression; it's the love, laughter, and shared experiences that define our existence.

So, as you navigate this short, beautiful journey called life, remember to enjoy every day as a precious gift. Your presence is the greatest present you can give to those who cherish you.

#LaFamilia #family #thereisnotomorrow #rockybalboa

[thewhumpcaretaker]

Delicious breakdown/PTSD whump! Read if you like to see whumpee and Caretaker getting closer over the course of multiple trauma flashbacks. Healing is not linear, etc.

Love Louder Than Wounds

Summary: Love, patience and understanding can heal a person, but it stays a slow process. John and Santino experience this truth after Santino goes through a traumatic incident and the resulting nightmares. John stays his biggest support, despite Santino trying to push him away time and time again.

Rating: Mature, graphic description of violence, TW - self-harm, blood, panic attack, emetophobia warning, intense nightmare, character having spiraling thoughts! Please read the tags on Ao3, I put trigger warning also here since this is a heavy fic!

Relationship: Santino D'Antonio/John Wick

Note: This fic wasn't planned, it just happened when I was in a really bad mental place and I needed to project. Some parts became harder for me to write due to a stressful situation I had not so long ago (emetophobia related), and I was worried this fic wouldn't be done how I wanted it to be. It's been really difficult for me lately, everything was too much... I needed to write it into a fic. I was self projecting into Santino, so if he feels OOC, I'm sorry, but it was how I wanted to write him for this specific fic. It's hard to deal with spiraling thoughts on a daily basis, especially when they convince you that your worst fears and insecurities are real, and you have to try and snap yourself out of it. It's not that easy, at least it isn't for me. I wanted to show in this fic how difficult that can be, and how with patience, love, no pressure and time, it can be slowly healed.

This fic means a lot to me personally and I really tried my best to write it and push through everything that was happening. Thank you anyone who reads it, it means a lot to me! <3

Not everything is so dark in this fic tho!! There are sweet moments with Santino and John being sweet fiancés and Dog is here too! :]

━─┉┈┈◈♡◈┈┈┉─━

Snippet

The room was dark, there was no sound except for the occasional sound of the wind, the floor felt cold under Santino's feet, as if he was walking on tiles. There was a foul smell of blood, cigarettes and dust in the air, making him feel dizzy and nauseous.

He couldn't move further away, there were chains on his heels, wrists… and on his neck. Cold and suffocating, aching with every swallow. It triggered his anxiety that quickly turned into panic. His throat was burning, his heartbeat speeding up, his body shaking and feeling tingly, like it wasn't his body anymore.

Santino knew where he was and he knew what was coming. He couldn't scream, he couldn't move, he could only freeze in a sudden horrible sensation.

It was warm, burning his skin. The blood. It was dripping down his back and chest, hitting the floor with a wet heavy splat. His stomach twisted to the feeling and noise, he felt acid sizzling along his throat.

It was disgusting, gruesome, painful and shameful. To be seen like this, to be in this position in the first place.

There was a punch into his ribs, then a knife into his back, then into his thigh, then hands suffocating his throat. It was too much, he could hear them yelling, he could hear them cursing at him.

I don't want this. Stop. Make it stop. Please, stop, stop, stop!

Santino woke up with a choked sob, gasping as his body jolted against the mattress, completely disoriented.

“Hey, hey, you're okay. You're safe, it's okay.” Came from a familiar gentle voice.

It took Santino a few seconds to blink away tears and focus on his surroundings and his fiancé, John, who was next to him, brushing a wet curl off his forehead, trying to ground him.

“Shh, you're here with me. Breathe, love. You're at home with me,” John murmured, gently taking a hold of his fiancé's hand, giving a light squeeze on it.

The other man made an attempt to speak, but all that came out was a whimper and the embarrassment overflowed him so he turned his head away from his partner, squeezing his eyes shut hard, enough to feel them pinch.

“It's okay. Try to take some deep breaths for me. I'll help you, okay?” John waited for his companion to show him any sign that he was going to cooperate, he knew he had to be patient and gentle. Santino in this state was the most sensitive.

With another sharp inhale, D'Antonio nodded, and that was his partner's cue.

John helped him sit up, adjusting the pillows so he could lean against them, moving the sheets off his chest so he could breathe better. He noticed how sweaty he was, his shirt soaked over his chest and his skin glistening from the sweat as if he was hit with a fever.

He kissed his temple, murmuring to start breathing like they practiced before. Santino followed after a failed first attempt, he closed his eyes, inhaling, holding his breath for a couple of seconds and exhaling deeply.

“Good, keep going,” John praised, inhaling with him, holding his hand while with the other one he rubbed his thigh. Although breathing deeply worked most of the time, Santino often needed John's touch to work better through it.

Read the rest on ao3

[bongsavior]

You’re 26, it’s time to mature a little bit.

LMAOOOOO what does this mean ??? 😭😂

Sorry you can't post goofy shit anymore you're twenty six. Didn't you know being silly past the age of 25 is a crime and a slander to society? You'll have to stop right now mister, or i'll call the cops!!!

[spread-your-wings-love]

Hi fellow human beings,

Today is day one in the hotel room. My anxiety is through the roof, not even my anti-anxiety medication is helping. I am grateful though that Chava is feels completely comfortable being in the room and walking around outside of the hotel. So instead of focusing on my anxiety I am looking back at pictures that make me feel happy. Last year I went with my sponsor, her best friend, her sister, and her and her sisters friend to go to a screening of Rocky Horror Picture Show outside and it was so much fun. I was the one that found it and suggested it and for me that is a big deal because I have a lot of social anxiety because of the Autism but I was able to be present despite the large amount of people. Prior to the movie starting though they had a drag queen show and it was so much fun to watch it with my chosen family. The only reason that I could enjoy being present for the shows and with my family is because I was and still am clean from substance abuse. I also have to say I am grateful for my sponsor because she knows me so well because we have been family for a long time now so she can tell if I am dissociating or becoming overwhelmed and so she checked in with me through out the show. Later my sponsor, her sister, and their friend who I am now friends with went and had dinner on a different night after going to the event and her friend said that she over heard me saying that I felt anxious because of the amount of people and then she said that she was really proud of me not only for going and managing the amount of people but also for finding the event and suggesting we go. Later in the same month we went together to see Hadestown and I was so excited to see it and I was so grateful that I was able to see it with family.  I am so grateful for what recovery has given me especially in regards to friendship, family, and being able to enjoy things that prior to my addiction that I loved like going to see musicals and theater. I have no words to describe the amount of gratitude I have for my sponsor and Higher Power because without a little tough love and guidance I might still be stuck in the cycle of abuse that I endured in active addiction. Today I am grateful to say that I have 2 years, 3 months, and 26 days clean from all the substances I abused during my active addiction. Thank you for coming along with me on this journey. I hope that you are having a great day and if you aren’t you can always reach out to me. Also if you are having a great day you can also reach out and tell me about whats making you smile today.

[insomniphic]

What's your take on Odysseus's trauma and recovery back in Ithaca?

*looks at all the comics I made*

Lol but really, I realistically expect it to be severely rocky. He’ll have good days, mostly bad days, but what keeps him grounded is of course his family, you know?

But imagine losing your entire fleet under your command...

...only to come back to an entire population of thousands of people, expecting that you will lead them.

What if he fails again?

[townpostin]

Jamshedpur Police Arrest Three in Jugsalai Firing Case

Three Arrested in Connection with Firing Near Gurudwara in Jugsalai; Police Recover Firearm. Jamshedpur police arrested three individuals involved in a firing incident that took place near the Gurudwara on Station Road, Jugsalai, on August 16. JAMSHEDPUR – The Jugsalai police have arrested three suspects in connection with the firing incident near the office of transporter Abhijit Singh during a…

[diy-fire-water-pups]

Pups any advice

I’m pretty sure I’ve got the flu but my boss won’t let me rest unless I have a fever or I’m getting sick to my stomach

Classic stupid capitalism, putting profit over worker's health.

Maybe try getting something like honey with lemon to fight off the flu and not give it a chance to get worse... It's a great immunity booster too!

And don't forget to wear masks! This way, if you got it, you won't spread it around to others.

[patrick-jennings]

Tumble

Tumble Tumble Tumble down From the light Into the chasm below There to roil In the miasma And darkness The flume Goes on and on And I all along Do keep my head above Then exit Into a wider course And calmer water Now swim for shore Clamber up to land Breathe a heavy sigh Continue reading Tumble