#and yeah I might have to actually check it out now

[mimikyusrealform]

six degrees of separation

Spencer Reid x Reader. Word Count: 1781. Summary: While circulating the photo of a serial killer around a bar in New York, Spencer gets distracted by the sight of someone who used to only exist in his memories. Notes and Warnings: Set around Season 2 before Revelations, because S2 Reid is the loveliest he's ever been. There's a bit of cussing, and mentions of bullying (not particularly explicit), so read at your own discretion.

The man in front of you is familiar. It's better to say that his face is familiar to you, but not the man himself.

He's asking something, “Have you seen this guy?” In a nervous way, his left hand's fingers, the ones not holding up a fairly young guy's picture, twist and untwist. It's like there's electricity under his skin, and a fuzz in his head. He can't stay still. “Ma'am?” he prompts at your silence.

“What did you say your name was again?” you are asking before you can think it over.

“Uh, I'm Doctor—but you don't have to call me that, it's optional, actually, forget that—Spencer Reid.” He is flustered. You can tell it's not because of you, but because you're a person. Still looking at him, you sip from your Gin and Tonic. His brown hair is smooth and carefully parted, no apparent use of gel, but brushed nicely so it shines, even under the bar's poor lighting. He wears professor clothes: a brown vest, a white button-up and low-rise slacks. He's sinewy and wiry, and you wonder if his bones are naturally thin or it's because he doesn't eat enough. You guess that it might be both.

“Are you from Las Vegas?” you ask him.

“Y-yeah.” He's changed the picture to his left hand, and his right one rubs at the back of his neck. “How did you know? Nevermind. I need to know if you've seen this man?”

It clicks, then. You think it's because of that gesture. You squint your eyes at the picture. “No, I haven't.” You stab him in the chest with your index finger. He recoils as if you had actually stabbed him. “Doesn't matter. It's you who I've seen before; I remember now. You're that kid that graduated from high-school at twelve years old. I was a freshman when that happened.”

He blinks owlishly; it's kind of cute. Then, he blinks again, and a third time. With a start, he miraculously says your name. “I didn't recognize you,” he admits shamefully; you wave your hand dismissively. “I-it's good to see you.”

It truly is—good to see you. Spencer doesn't have many fond memories of his time in high-school. But you're certainly one of the few. He never imagined you would remember him, though, he wasn't important to you the way you were, are to him.

You were short, once, this he can picture clearly, with round and rosy cheeks, and crowded teeth. You must have gone through braces, he notes. That, too, he can picture clearly; well, imagine it. You've grown up. Of course, you've grown up. It's such a menial observation that it makes him embarrassed, somehow. You're a good memory that he's kept dearly, close to his heart. After all, you saved him, twice. Twice! The first time from himself, and the second time from others. How he hadn't immediately recognized you, it was beyond him. You are just as pretty and impossible as an adult as when you were a kid.

The first time, he had been walking out of school with a dejected drag of the feet. Mary Clarkson had made fun of him in Math class, because he stammered when answering a complex question, and that had been enough to dim the sun in the sky. He needed to cross the street, and he vaguely checked both ways, head still hung low, before attempting to cross. And then, a hand pulled him by the scruff, harshly and violently, almost throwing him over his back on the ground. He reacted accordingly, jolting out of the hold, thinking he was about to get beaten up. But what he came face-to-face with was your scowl at the same time that behind him, a car exceeding the speed limit whipped through the street.

You had said, in an extremely high-pitched voice while digging your index finger into his chest, “Are you actually dumb? They say you're a genius, but geniuses look both sides before crossing the street! You're just silly, after all!” Your intonation was kind of obnoxious, but then you grabbed his wrist, the right one, pried his fingers open and gently deposited a Hershey's Kiss from your backpack on his palm. “Get better,” you had said, and bolted away to join your own friends, who were all giggling at the display. He always looks both ways after that. And sometimes, he feels true warmth in his chest, where your fingertip had marked him an eternity ago.

The second time was just a month before senior graduation. His senior graduation. Mark Brown and his two friends-slash-lackeys had been throwing him around the lockers, and everyone else either ignored them or hid their smirks behind their hands. Brown was saying something like, “C'mon, I got to teach you. You like learning, don't you, freak? Hold him, you gu—” Brown was a senior, so he was about seventeen years old, almost eighteen. And you were just a freshman, freshly fourteen-years-old. And yet you had walked up behind Brown, gripping the straps of your backpack between your bony fingers, and hurled it at the back of his head, almost knocking him down. Spencer vividly remembers the tingle that ran up his spine at the sound of your shrill yet demanding voice telling Brown to, “Move out of the way, skank! You're crowding my goddamn locker! Filthy, stupid bitch, are you blind or did your junkie father finally beat all the braincells out of your head?”

Then, you forcefully hit the other two guys with your backpack as well until they dispersed. Years later, Spencer would come to know why Brown couldn't hit you. Why Brown would never hit a girl, and instead of fighting you, he scattered. You had placed your hands on your hips and glared at him, before saying, “If you like to learn so much, then why don't you learn how to throw a punch? How to kick a roundhouse. No school director is expelling you. Or, at least, learn how to talk back at stupid skanks. If you can not be stronger, then be smarter, silly.”

Silly, silly, silly. That was the second time you called him silly, the second time you saved him.

“Is that so,” you are saying now. “Then, I suppose it's nice seeing you, too. Who's that man, anyway?”

He glances down at the picture in his own hand, like he had forgotten it was there. “Oh, yeah. Um, this is a suspect in a case I—”

“Are you the police?” you interrupt.

“O-oh, no. No, I'm not. FBI,” he explains, pulling out his badge and showing it to you. 

There's a glint in your eyes. “FBI,” you repeat, voice a tiny bit as shrill as he remembered it being. “How old are you?”

“I'm twenty-four,” he tells you earnestly. Does that impress you? It embarrasses him how much he wants it to impress you. “I, uh, joined when I was twenty-two.”

“I'm twenty-six,” you tell him, expectantly.

He isn't sure how he knows what you want him to say, but he says, “Congratulations. You look younger.”

You don't preen at his words, but you smile at him, and it's the first time he's seen your smile, despite having daydreamed about what it would look like many times before. It's nothing like his imagination. It's not wide and smooth nor is it sweet. It's lopsided, crooked; and he can see your canines are a bit askew and sharp. When you turn your head to the side to take a sip from your white-night drink, he memorizes the planes of your profile. The valley of your cheek, the crest of the bone under your eye, the cliff of your nose bone. He sees the very naked neck, the precipice between your collarbones. Your face is lovely and curious, and so is the slope of your bare shoulders. He wants to run his fingers down the spaghetti-straps of your dress, that dig into your skin. He wonders if the straps are drawing red lines.

He wants to say something, maybe all he wants is for you to listen to him, but then he hears Morgan calling him.

You hear it, too; you don't know who's calling for him, but you know it's more important than you. So you tilt your head towards him in acknowledgement that he has to go. “Goodbye, Doctor,” you say, smiling again. “Goodbye, silly.”

“No, wait,” he stumbles. “We—I still have some time. Let me—”

“Time?” you interrupt him again. “Funny business, time. It delights frustrating your plans. Don't you know?”

His brain catches up to the reference before himself. “The Seventh Doctor,” he mutters. He sounds surprised to his own ears. “From Dragonfire; Season 24, Serial 4. Broadcasted from November 23 to December 7 of 1987. I was six years old when it came out. The Doctor said it to Mel at the end of the third part.”

You are looking at him with amusement at the same time Morgan calls for him again. “What, do you think I can't like Doctor Who?”

“No, not at all,” he recomposes himself, clears his throat, and almost trips back when you grab his wrist, the right one. “W-what are you doing?” His voice is a couple semitones higher.

You don't answer him. Instead, you take a pen from your dress' pocket and write something on his soft skin.

When he lifts his hand in front of his face, he blushes terribly at the sight of what he assumes—hopes—is your phone number.

“Call me,” you say. You pause, and then add, “Don't be silly and start overthinking it. Good night, Doctor.”

You leave after that.

He's left dazzled and dazed, standing there. He feels like a raw wire, and there's a pleasant flow of warmth spreading through his body from where your fingers curled around his joint.

He runs away when he sees Morgan's arched eyebrows and mirthful expression. Not before catching the mocking mimic of, “Good night, Doctor.” He groans a quick shut up in his haste to leave the establishment.

He's such a coward. But he's not coward enough not to call you later that night during the flight back to Quantico. He texts, “Who's your favorite Doctor?” And feels like kicking himself. Who starts a conversation like that? Before he can delete it and disappear, you reply, “I'm not sure, Dr. Reid. I don't think he exists yet. Why, did you want me to say you are my favorite Doctor?”

Morgan laughs the whole flight after reading over his shoulder.

Surprisingly, he finds he can't be embarrassed about it. Not when you spend the rest of the night texting him.

[beef-brisket]

Charlie gasped as a spear touched her throat. Once Adam and Lucifer realised she wasn't following, they turned and saw a short haired woman standing behind Charlie. Her spear outstretched.

Exorcist: Holt! In the name of the Father!

Charlie's eyes widened and slowly turned around. The woman's mouth hung open as she looked at the taller woman, her spear dropping.

Vaggie: C-Charlie...?

Charlie smiled and gently cupped her check: I'm so glad you're okay-! I thought they would have made you fall!

Vaggie leaned into her touch, resting her hand on top of Charlie's: N-No, I didn't fall. They... made a lot of threats. But I'm okay. And you're... with Adam?

Charlie glanced back at the two men who had unreadable expressions: Uh, yeah. It's a long story. Look, I think I'm going back to Hell, so maybe I'll send word to you somehow.

Vaggie: Okay, love. If not... maybe I can see you during the extermination-.

Lucifer: Extermination?

Adam: Hey, babe? Maybe not now.

Lucifer glared up at Adam: "Not now"? What do you mean by that? I'm the king, I should know about whatever this extermination is.

Adam rolled his eyes: Don't throw that king bullshit around with me. It won't work. Second, there's a lot of shit going on in Hell that you need to know about. But that's a conversation for when we get back.

Lucifer wanted to argue but decided not to. This wasn't the time or thr place, and he wasn't sure what headspace Adam was in.

Kissing her girlfriend, Charlie promised to see her again before going to the men's side to continue their way.

Charlie: Okay, we should be further enough away for you to open a portal, Lu.

Lucifer nodded and did as suggested. As Adam and Charlie walked through the portal, he felt eyes on him. Turning around, he saw Michael standing a few yards away.

He couldn't read his emotions. His face was blank, and his eyes looked dead. It was actually unsettling. But with a glare, Lucifer stepped into the portal and arrived back in Hell.

Once he stepped foot into his palace, he saw Adam checking over Charlie, making sure she was okay.

Charlie: I promise Adam, I'm fine! Really!

She laughed as he checked her hair and face.

Adam smiled: I don't know, kid. I could have sworn you were fighting the first man by yourself.

Charlie scoffed: Like he was a match for me.

Adam smiled. He felt bad for not really working with her when it came to her powers. Life seemed to keep getting in the way.

Adam: That's good to hear... I uh... how about later on, I show you how to do some cool shit, yeah? I've kinda been slacking on that front.

Charlie beamed: Really?! Can you show me how to summon a weapon?!

Adam: Sure, kid!

Lucifer: Adam. Can I speak to you out here?

Adam glanced at Lucifer before turning back and reassuring Charlie. He walked over to Lucifer, and they left the room.

Adam: What's up? Why do you sound so serious all of a sudden?

Lucifer: ...I understand it might be hard for you, Ad. But I need to know what happned once you arrived in Heaven.

Adam tensed: ...Why?

Lucifer: Did they tell you anything? Whatever this extermination is, I need to end it and gather as much dirt on Heaven as possible.

Adam sighed: Babe. You're fighting a war you can't win. And Hell has enough of those already.

Lucifer: Please, Addy. I... I'm in control, I need to know.

Adam: ...you've been in control for a few days. You can't rush into this, you know-?

Lucifer: Just- TELL me, Adam!

Adam: ...they told me how pathetic I am. Is that good enough for you? Or do you need it more words? How about this, they read me the letter you sent. Over. And over. They threw your ring at me. Told me you hated me. You never loved me. They cut off my fucking legs and arm, Lucifer! They didn't say anything interesting, just how much they want me dead and how funny it would be with my blade. So, don't pull your king of Hell shit out on me. I'm fucking, Adam! And Adam's had a rough fucking day. alright?!

Lucifer: Adam- u told you the latter was a lie-!

Adam: Oh yeah? Was giving them your ring a lie?

Lucifer: Yes-!

Adam: Then why didn't you grab it?! They threw it around and you didn't take it!

Lucifer: I'll make a new one-!

Adam: That's not the fucking point-!

Lucifer sighed; Then what is?!

Adam: I gave you that ring! I picked it out! Specifically for you! And you just... gave it to them... fuck, maybe it's a stupid thing to be pissed about, and it doesn't help that I haven't been laid in nearly a week, but fuck, Lu. I've... felt like fucking shthese last few days. First Seth and then Heaven... you gave me to them... like I was nothing to you. And maybe I am... Look. I don't want to talk about this now, I have to train the kid. Like I said, I would.

Adam rubs his face and walks out of the room, leaving Lucifer alone with his thoughts.

Lucifer: ...Shit...

I miss our God!Adam Au

Sequel 👀

In Canada Eh! Lmao

CANADA FOREVER

Yes plsss! I miss our stupid, power-hungry boy 😫😫

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Cia's Wonderful Day Out, part 3

Part 1, Part 2 (Also, if you liked this, you can check out Convenience Store Vampire, featuring some familiar faces!)

****

It was hard to decipher the emotions of an insectoid Fae, but there was a glimmer of fascination in their multifaceted eyes. “A bank robbery, you say? What happened?”

Ciaran shook his head. “Damned if I know. Cops pulled me over, showed me a video of my evil twin pulling a flame-wand on some poor bank teller, and claimed it was me. Twelve hours I spent telling them that I wasn't a fucking bank robber, Anise. Twelve. Accursed. Hours.”

“An evil twin? That sounds like the work of a shifter,” Dave said, pulling up a chair. He was the quintessential vampire, something Ciaran always envied. Black hair slicked back, his Smiley-Mart uniform covered up by a long trench coat, red eyes rimmed with slight eye bags. Balancing right between tradition and modernity. “Hey, Cia.”

Ciaran did not bother correcting him this time. “Hey Dave,” he muttered. “You think it was Hash who decided to pull that crap?” 

“Not Hash, but perhaps someone she knows? The shifter community is tiny, or so I've heard. Haven't even met another one of her kind,” he replied. “Besides, Hash isn't that mean.”

Ciaran narrowed his eyes. “Yes, she is. You go ask her if she knows anyone who went on a thieving spree recently, shall you? I'm not in a mood to talk to that crazy man right now.”

“What am I, your pageboy?” Nonetheless, Dave got up and walked away. Benefits of being an elder vampire, Ciaran supposed. All the littles listened to him.

He looked glumly into his glass, listening with one ear to the conversation that ensued. 

“Say, have any of your kindred run around robbing banks recently? Asking for a friend.” That was Dave, ever the eloquent spy.

“Mah what-now?” Hash, her words more slurred than usual.

“Your kind. You know, shifters?”

“Yeah. What about them?” Her accent dropped suddenly. Ciaran had always suspected that she was faking it.

“Did any of them rob a bank? Maybe wearing Ciaran's face?”

Hash choked on her drink and spun around. “Are you accusing me of impersonating you, Ciaran Kerall?” It was the first show of anger he'd ever seen in her, and through the shock of the accusation, Ciaran found it in himself to take some joy in being the source of her upset.

Perhaps this day wasn't wasted, after all.

She stormed over, slowly growing taller as she did so. By the time she was at his side, the tiny little elf had been replaced by a lean, menacing man. “Care to say it to my face, instead of sending little Davie to do your job?”

“I’ve got many things to accuse you of, Hash, most of them true. Impersonation isn't one of them. I sent Dave to ask you a question. Or are you too stupid to understand that?” He punctuated his words with a sharp tap on her skull.

She slapped his hands away. “Go fuck yourself, Ciaran. Are you trying to pick a fight? Because if a fight's what you want, I assure you that you're going to regret it.”

“A fight's not what anyone wants.” Unknown to either of them, Anise had crossed the bar and was suddenly inserting themself between the would-be fighters. “I don't serve children in this house, so act like adults, will you? Let's try this from the top. Ciaran, what did you want to ask?”

Ciaran gave them a dirty look. “I got pulled in by the exorcists this morning. They claimed someone identical to me robbed a bank, and their proof was that I was on the cameras doing… Well, whatever it is bank robbers do.”

“But that evidence is obviously invalid, ‘cos vamps like you don't show up on cams or mirrors,” Hash interjected like the irritating little interloper she was.

“Yes, if you'd just let me get to that part,” he snapped back. “As I was saying, this led me-”

“That was me, actually,” Dave said, interjecting again. He was picking up all these bad habits from that horrible little shifter, Ciaran thought. “I said that it might be a shape shifter, and we ought to ask you. I swear, nobody meant any harm.”

Hash looked to him, and immediately softened. “I'm sorry,” she said. “That was uncharitable of me, ah guess. My bad.”

“Please don't slip into that accent again,” Ciaran responded.

Once again, she ignored him. “No’ that we've resolved this little squabble, ah guess I oughta break the news to ya. Couldn't ‘ave been a shifter, cos there ain't any in this city. Apart from me, that is.”

“What?”

Tagging: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr,

@possiblyeldritch @tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn,

@ramwritblr @vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west,

@differentnighttale @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms,

@abiteofhoney @drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @paeliae-occasionally, @an-indecisive-nerd, @thecomfywriter

@seastarblue, @wyked-ao3, @bookwormclover, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @aalinaaaaaa

@the-letterbox-archives, @gioiaalbanoart (Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[moeblob]

Warning for: The (spider) legs showing below!

Under the hoodie/layers, she tends to wrap her legs around her kinda like a hug! And so in the first part that's the weird bumps under the hoodie. They're starting to unravel a bit. She hates being called a monkey cause it's NOT her fault she's short and has to climb on things and up things and includes people in "things" category.

[plushie-lovey]

My dear friends. Today I am WINNING

[claire-starsword]

Authentic Story of the Shining Force - Saint Fencer Max - Chapter 5

Translation notes:

All enemies so far were recognizable from the game, but here they seem to be original.

This might be Boken?? The only character in the game with a big backpack and hair. And he does show up in Dragonia in-game.

About the Ancient names. Mega Max is clearly alliterative in both languages. Giga Cain is almost that. K sounds in japanese become g sounds once you add a dakuten (ﾞ), so they're associated. And in english it kinda works out accidentally, because a G is basically a C with extras too. Vega Darksol though? No link. The pattern is lost. I'm kinda mad about it.

From an author's comment: "These two also appear in Tanuma-sensei's Shining Force (lol). Are they official members?" Yuichiro Tanuma is the artist for another Shining Force manga, Descent of Great Intention, whose scans I only found today (warning for a lot of ecchi/nudity/nsfw, i'm still going through but what i've seen is pretty horny already). And yes, these background characters also appear there. This manga was published before that one, though, so this is their first appearance.

"But Claire you're dodging the main topic, Cain just did exposition of the whole lore" yes yes, the similarities between it and the GBA version are what made me interested in this manga to begin with, but I've decided there's so much to compare between all versions of Max and Cain I'll make a whole huge ass post about it instead. Look forward to that.

I will mention however that Cain's bodysuit here reminds me a bit of the manual picture with Max being brought into Guardiana for the first time.

I did say we had to talk about Prompt (and then promptly forgot it in the first draft of these notes). Like Waral, Prompt is not seen anywhere in the beta map. And here, it is depicted as only ruins instead of the country it is in the final game. That in itself wouldn't mean much, however, Chapter 7, where Prompt is, has a lot more weirdness in it. It has peculiar unused content implying a whole deleted cutscene with Cain, Adam, Chaos and Darksol in Metapha, and it freezes the Debug Mode's Battle Test any time you Egress (also, Chapter Selection won't even load it from a save file of another chapter, which doesn't happen for any other chapter). Of course, I don't know the actual code of the game, but this gives me the impression that this Chapter 7 had some other Egress point that got removed later. Basically, if there's one part of the game you can expect to have changed late in development, it's Prompt and Metapha, so it could have been only ruins as the manga depicts here, and as I mentioned in the last chapter, some place or machine called Tenochtitlan could have existed.

Oh boy I keep forgetting notes this time! The goddamn chapter title. Both times the Chaos Breaker is mentioned here, it is written with the usual katakana, but also the kanji 対暗黒魔法剣 (Anti-Darkness Magic Sword) as furigana. I felt it was too clunky to mention both sword names in the dialogue, especially when Cain was already pushing the limits of a lot of speech bubbles this chapter. But anyway, yeah, it's supposed to be a bit of a title drop there.

I. forgot. yet. another. note. When Otrant recognizes the robot using an explosion spell, the manga actually says 核爆烈, a mix of 核 (nuclear) and 爆烈 (explosion). However, I couldn't find this exact wording in dictionaries, only fictional works, so it might just dramatic flavor, since nuclear explosions Don't Work Like That. I kept it ambiguous in the translation to not raise questions in the middle of the action, but it's worth noting since both the aforementioned Descent of Great Intention manga and the UK Sonic the Comic version of Shining Force bring up nuclear themes at some point.

[doodlingwren]

Ok, back to girlblogging eheh (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

[blujayonthewing]

so in juniper's campaign we've just found ourselves in a high-stakes situation that I as a player do frankly find stressful and am anxious about, but hey hi also the DM was like 'okay here are the exact mechanics of how this is going to work because I don't want to surprise you with serious repercussions, also here are all the options you will have to try to do something about the situation-- [affected player] what do you think? honest feedback, I don't want it to feel unfair, I want to be clear that I am not just trying to kill your character, and if it ends up being badly balanced we can revisit it down the road' and oh my god I could COLLAPSE and WEEP with gratitude

[exopelagic]

okay facing consequences of my actions

[lexicog]

OK New pinned post I am going to track & share my cleaning progress because I want to be healthy and not explode YAY

[ Updated 12/2 - 10:25 PM ]

[orcelito]

I have... my boarding pass....

And I still have to do the tips distribution tomorrow morning 😫😫😫😫😫

[unproduciblesmackdown]

lavender marriage / beard for the soulmate or timeloop au

[jadedbirch]

Gather around, my young friends and fellow dinosaurs, let me tell you about some BULLSHIT no one ever tells you about. I'm talking about menopause and perimenopause. Now, menopause has a very stringent medical definition. You have to not have had a period for exactly 12 months and a day to be considered in menopause. All the bullshit before that day once you start going through The Change is considered perimenopause. Here's some bullshit you might experience that people actually talk about when you're in perimenopause:

- shorter time between periods

- irregular periods

- hot flashes and/or cold flashes

- fucked up sleep

- OMG NIGHT SWEATS

- Vagina as dry as the Sahara desert

- lighter periods and/or endless bleeding like it's The Flood but it's in your pants

- lack of interest in Adult Fun Times

This time of joy can last anywhere from a couple of years to a god damn decade and there's no medical way right now to predict it.

Here's some of the REAL bullshit they don't tell you about but your dinosaur aunt is here to let you know:

- You can start perimenopause in your 30s, don't listen to idiot doctors who tell you you're "too young" because they don't know your body like you do.

- Perimenopause will make you HELLA DUMB. Seriously, I'm talking Bigly broken brain. Brain fog? Check. Short term memory? Wave goodbye to it. Ability to make words form out of thoughts? Yeah, good luck to you.

- Perimenopause can cause horrible fatigue because in addition to losing estrogen, you're also losing testosterone. Oh and that also leads to muscle wasting, cool cool.

- Things might suddenly hurt more because estrogen is known to be neuroprotective.

- If you're super lucky like I am, and like to collect rare illnesses, you might even get Burning Mouth Syndrome 💀

- And meanwhile, while you're going through this bullshit, you'll be getting gaslit by doctors who are operating based on 30 year old debunked data about how HRT causes breast cancer (not really) and that they shouldn't put you on it until you're in actual menopause. (Data shows starting HRT early can potentially prevent Alzheimer's in later years.)

- There are entire online clinics right now (I use Midi Health) focused on providing care for peri and menopausal patients and they will happily prescribe you HRT even if your regular PCP or OBGYN do not (if you meet the criteria). I've been pretty impressed with how holistically they view the patient. For full disclosure, I learned about them from my integrative health doctor and they do not accept Medicare (yet).

I'm 46 years old right now and I've been symptomatic for perimenopause for the last 8 years, although it's gotten the most dramatic in the past 2 years or so, which I hope means I'm almost done, holy hell. Yeah I was on the early side, but if it can happen to me, it can happen to you, so it's never too early to think about these things. And I hope to at least spare some of you the mind-fuckery I've been through because no one told me about most of this stuff, including my own mother who just DOESN'T REMEMBER what happened to her and now I completely understand why. And because I also have a connective tissue disease, I used to just dismiss my pain and fatigue as being caused by that illness rather than the loss of hormones.

Anyways, this is why we need Elders in our lives, so they can do Grandma Story Hour like I just did and validate you when the entire medical field tries to gaslight you. I hope you've found some or all of this educational/useful. Please share with your friends because we really do NOT talk about this stuff enough. (Ewwww Moon Blood!)

Stay well, and don't let the bastards grind you down!

[luwha]

LMAO so, recently someone tried to SCAM me, so i'll show you what happened and the telltales of it being a scam.

This one is quite obvious but i know people who are just starting their artist careers and might not have experiece.

Follow the thread:

🚩#1: They pick your most famous/Popular art as reference. They don't know what you actually sell.

🚩#2: They will pick a random popular character. They're not roleplayers or anything. They're not here for the art in any level

You ask me, what are the odds they really like Goku? Oh, well, you'll see. At this point i check their profile for anythign that might indicate it, but as you'll see you won't have to.

🚩#3: They say they saw my ToS. On it i state i only work with paypal and google forms.

🚩#4: Random issue with payment method. They might have a real problem with it, but see; they'll never ever accept any other payment method, such as Zelle, CashApp, Payoneer, Ko-fi, etc.

I already knew this drill so, let's continue.

🚩#5: I love playing dumb lmao. Anyway, this scam revolves on them either sending you "too much money" and asking it back or something like it. I won't be following through because i know it'll be annoying.

BE ADAMANT WITH YOUR METHODS. Do NOT EVER bend them for randos.

🚩#6: They're so ready with the info on how the payment works it's fucking funny.

The reason I PERSONALLY use PayPal INVOICES (no any other payment within paypal) is that they're safe for both me and my client. My rules are stated clearly.

MAKE A ToS I BEG YOU YOUNG ARTIST

🚩#7: They're not even a good scammer lmao they REFUSE to go on my PROFILE to get a link or read anything.

I use Forms because it collects the client requests and it's easier for me to read it all in one place. It ALSO makes scammers bored.

🚩#8: They're so disinterested on the art they don't care for posing, vibes, colors, nothing. Again, they're NOT here for art. That's hilarious.

🚩#8: Same as above. They don't care for posing or anything.

On my art they link me, i have a vampire almost staking himself in a state of euphoria.

IMAGINE VAMPIRE GOKU STAKING HIMSELF THAT'S SO FUCKIGN FUNNY MY BRO, THINK YOUR SCAM THROUGH MAYBE

🚩#9: They will price your own work for you. And they'll overshot what we, smaller artists, charge for it.

They'll overshot by a lot.

They want you to be impressed and showing "generosity" usually gets people who need monay into risky situations. That's just plain cruel.

🚩#9: Same as above. Over generosity and eagerness to pay.

They're not even with the sketch, this haven't been an hour, they don't have any work form me but OH GOD they're SO READY to pay you NEED TO KNOW they WANTS TO PAY YOU SO BAD

Lmao yeah it's working out ❤️

THIS ONE IS JUST HILARIOUS BRO I CAN'T EVEN.

ANYWAY let's continue

🚩#10: They don't know me. They don't follow me. They broke every rule on my ToS. They're making me go through a payment method i am unfamiliar and don't use.

They don't care for my process. They're not interested on my sketch.

BE. ADAMANT. ABOUT. YOUR. RULES. AND. PROCESS.

Now, for the beautiful closure of this:

Have a ToS. Don't bend the rules for randos.

Use Invoices. Be sure you're safe.

Use forms if you'd like. Requests through DM and Discord ARE COMMON FOR OTHER ARTISTS. I personally don't like it, i have ADHD.

Being an artist on an online space is dangerous. If you need help, poke an artist you know, see how they operate and if it fits you. Most of them would help you.

🚩#11: goku isn't even on their icon 😭

This is the account that tried to scam me.

#art is life ❤️

[moeblob]

Rey, who is in my very biased opinion, one of the funniest "girls" I have because she's just a guy, truly. Like Rey is just short for Reynold because he was recruited by a a goddess to help the hero she selected and the hero is conveniently Reynold's younger brother. So he agrees to help under the condition that the goddess gives him a female body for the other world. She's like "really odd flex but whatever" and gives him a female form and he's like "you know. I can't really blame anyone but myself for not specifying 'please don't turn me into a Lisa Frank personification'."

[sol-flo]

killing wordpress with hammersssss