#energy drinks may help for some for me they can put the pain in a sort of stasis. it still hurts but I can manage until the end of the

[canine-witch]

What is your shadow side?

The Shadow Side is a piece of ourselves that we do not wish to accept, for a multitude of reasons. They could be social reasons, religious reasons, past experiences, ect. Originated in Jungian psychology, the theory is you can begin to grow and become more happy when you face your shadows and accept them.

My intention today is to help the collective find a place to start doing shadow work on this aspect of themselves, if they so choose.

Drink some water, pick a pile, and feel free to discard what does not resonate

🌧️ personalized readings avaliable on kofi 🌧️

─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─

Pile One ~ The Roses

Your shadow is isolation. You may have had an experience in your life, that made you think you could do it all alone. It is a toxic independent and individualistic mindset. You may struggle with materialsim or a sense of constant lack. You may see your medical issues as something you can easily overcome. You don't want to rely on others, because others have dissapointed you far too much.

"I can do it all alone."

No one human can fight all their battles alone. There may be manifestations or blessings coming in through people, which you are blocking by thinking you can make it all on your own. You need to cease isolating yourself. Seek medical and professional help as you need it. Slowly begin to trust humanity again, there is good and bad, and dark and light, like anywhere. Stop thinking you are alone, no person is ever alone.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─

Pile Two ~ The Angel

Your shadow is combativeness. You are always the first on one the battlefield, and the last one to leave the war. Defending what you love and experiencing riteous justice is not a bad thing, but you can hurt yourself with your anger. You aren't fighting wisely, nor very effectively. You end up not understanding when the time is to drop people, arguements, and swords. You have healing to do, and fighting like this is just a toxic outlet.

"My anger consumes me; I can't not fight."

You may have a lot of pent up frustrations collected over years of injustice. Something that may be benefical is volunteering in your community. Maybe even seeking a career path which allows you to do good for others. If you are angry over the treatment of animals, perhaps you could volunteer at shelters or advocate for adoption agencies. If you are angry at the justice system in your country, perhaps seeking the ability to control some part of it by pursuing a career would help. Look inwards and see what you care the most about, and put the energy into helping directly. Your anger is justified and right, but it need to go somewhere else.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─

Pile Three ~ The Jellyfish

Your shadow is obsession. This may be varying levels of obsession, but you lean into them heavily depending on the day. This may be a concept, person, or place that you associate heavily to childhood or a past wound you cannot release. It is misery manifesting as a fixation. It may have a grip on anything, from your heart to your financials, and you need to accept that this is not joy, it is sadness.

"This reminds me of what I have lost."

You may be fighting the concept that you are sad. That whatever happened is something that hurts you to this day, and shows up in your life as vices. You shouldn't feel shame or feel guilt about these emotions or wanting to process them without pain. But, pain can lead towards transformation, and you are stuck in a spiral. You do have the strength to persevere and face whatever you need to. You do not have to cling to this energy, for your own sake.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─

Pile Four ~ The Beach

Your shadow is your broken heart. You may have been heartbroken by a past lover, or someone who you were close to betrayed you, and perhaps used you. This left you with a flurry of emotions, each one swirling and chaotic. You reflect this energy outwards, and can't seem to catch a break or be able to slow down. Or when you do, you procrastinate.

"My heart is broken, and I will never love again."

The only way to mend your own heart is through yourself. You need to find peace and prosperity from the inside, outwards. You need to change your mindframe, release the pain that others gave you, and redefine your life. It may be difficult, and the work may be hard, even excruciating. But you can, and will, save yourself. You are a dedicated person, but you need to learn loyalty to yourself first, before you can mend your broken heart. Do shadow work, affirmations, and spells that will bring you self love. Do mirror affirmations and try to change your mindset. You will be okay again, but it is up to you and nobody else to decide that.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─

Thank you for trusting me with your time and energy! If you want a more in depth reading, my comprehensive readings listing is 🌧️ here, through kofi. I'd appreciate the help!

Have a wonderful day, and I hope this helped you! 🌧️

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hello I don’t know if you’re currently taking requests but let me tell you. I need more about Milo. If you can. Like he became possessive with reader, jealous of everyone near her.

Milo X Reader: You belong to me

Warnings: Fighting, bar fight, bone breaking, drunk men, sleazy men, smut, dirty talk, dom x sub (kind of), dom Milo, possessive Milo, ass bitting, fingering, making out, penetration ( p in v), unprotected sex, pet names.

Word count: 3K

He's staring again, he knows he is. He also knows he shouldn't but he can't help it. Not when you look like that. You're at the edge of the bar sipping a drink Milo can't quite recognize. He's known you for years but he never noticed what your go to drink was. Perhaps it was because he had been too occupied pretending the pain in his leg wasn't killing him to care or maybe it was because it didn't really matter. He would never be the one to approach you, your favorite drink in hand as he flirted his way into your heart. You'd never made him feel undesirable. He didn't believe you had it in you to make someone feel something like that but you didn't have to, his brain did the work for you. Self loathing does wonders to one's confidence. 

Milo has been watching you for a little while now. You hadn't invited him to the bar. It had been a coincidence. He'd sauntered into the pub, his mind set on finding a pretty thing to take home. He needed to test the waters of his new powers and he wanted company to do it. A special kind of company. He had expected to find someone random, anyone who peaked his interest enough. He wasn't expecting to see you, in fact, it was the last thing he expected but he would be lying if the sight of you didn't ignite something inside him. 

He still hadn't worked up the courage to walk over. This would be the first you saw him like this. The first time he'd talked to you since the "change". It thrilled him but it also scared him. He wondered how you would react. Would you just stare or would you scream at him for his irresponsible actions? He wouldn't be able to take the look of disappointment on your face. He remembered when you first found out about Michele's unorthodox studies. You didn't  speak to the doctor for a week which to some may seem like a small amount of time but that's because they had never met you. They had never had the pleasure of being around you long enough to feel the radiant energy that seeped from you. His fear of your opinion glued him to his spot but it didn't stop him from admiring you. Milo had almost accepted the fact that, despite wanting with all his heart to whisk you away from this dingy bar, you'd probably go home alone. It wasn't until a man approached you that Milos mind changed. He watched the man stumble towards you with a drunken smile on his face. You shuffled slowly to the side trying to put a small distance between the two of you. Milos' hands clenched at his side, his features turning into a scowl as he watched the scene before him. He saw you let out an uncomfortable laugh before shaking your head in a polite no. Milo noticed the way the man's body language shifted at your actions radiating a sort of dangerous energy. Milo didn't like it at all. Before his mind could compute what he was doing his body moved in your direction, his legs moving in steady steps. Milo had gotten to you just as the man had reached out to grab your arm, his body working as a barrier between you and the man. You glanced up at Milo with a look of visible confusion on your face.

“There you are darling. Was wondering where you'd gone.”

“Milo…”

His name left your lips in a breathy whisper sending a chill down his spine.

“Hey asshole we were talking.”

“You know this guy?”

You shook your head timidly, your body moving closer to Milos as you searched for safety. Milo placed his hand on your arm before turning to look at the other man.

“You heard the lady. She doesn't feel like talking to you.”

“That is not what she said.”

“Yeah because she's too polite for that. Luckily for her i’m not, so i'll say what she’s really thinking.”

Milo paused for a moment, his ears picking up on the beating of your heart. It was a bit slower than it had been when he arrived but it was still faster than it should be. The heartbeat of someone who was afraid. The noise seemed to snap something inside Milo's brain, a sudden feeling of rage coming over him.

“Fuck off.”

You let out a small gasp at Milo's words, your fingers digging into his forearm. 

“Milo leave it, let's get out of here.”

He hated the way your voice shook as you spoke. He hated the fact that this man had gotten to you. He wanted to rip this neck open in front of this entire bar. He wanted to show them all that you were under his protection and that anyone that messed with you would have to deal with him. But the way you clung to him brought him out of his rage filled daze. He turned to look at you, his hands moving to push a stray hair behind your ear.

“Okay darling, if that's what you want.”

With one meaningful glance at the man Milo turned around, placing his hands on your hips as he guided you away from the bar and towards the door. You’d barely made it five steps when Milo felt something wet on his shoulder. He heard your scream of his name followed by the sound of glass shards falling to the ground. Milo didn’t give himself enough time to think before he pushed you away, his body turning around to face his attacker just as the man prepared himself to land a punch on Milo's face. His fist came in contact with Milo's body but not in the way he’d wanted it to. Instead of knocking into Milos cheek the man's hand found its way into Milos open palm, his eyes widening in fear as he made eye contact with the vampire. Milo twisted the man's arm, cracking the bone with ease. You watched with wide eyes as Milo tugged the man against his chest and whispered something in his ear before shoving him away. The man stumbled to the  ground using his unharmed hand to drag himself away from Milo in fear. Milo turned towards you, one hand pushing his hair back as the other reached for your arm. You let Milo drag you away from the bar, your legs moving quickly in order to keep up with his long strides. It was only then that you noticed he was walking without difficulty and without a cane. You stopped walking, your body freezing in the middle of the sidewalk causing Milo to stop as well. He turned to look at you, the anger in his features slipping away as he saw the fear on your face.

“Milo how are you…how did you-”

“It doesn't matter.”

“How the fuck can you say that? You just broke that guys like it was made of fucking paper!”

You glanced down at his legs.

“And you're walking like it's no problem.”

“What a big deal? People do that everyday.”

“Well you're not like most people Milo! You’re-

“What? A sick man? A weakling? A good for-”

“Stop it! I’d never call you any of that and you know it you jerk!”

You turned your face away from Milo, your hands going to wipe away the tears that had started to fall from your eyes. Milos' shoulders sagged at the sight. You just been through hell and here he was yelling at you like you were in the wrong. He called out your name, making you turn to look at him. Your lip shook slightly, making you bite on it in an attempt to look strong.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Please forgive me.”

He opened his arms to you with a silent request for a hug. You waited for a second before letting your body collide into Milos. He pulled you as close as he possibly could, burying his face into your hair. He listened as your heartbeat calmed down, a small sigh leaving your lips.

“Thank you.”

“Gotta be able to protect what’s mine.”

The words left Milos' lips with little effort. It wasn't until he felt your body tense that he noticed what he had said. He waited in silence, trying to see how you’d react. You shifted against him, lifting your head so you could look into his eyes. When you met his gaze and  saw the primal like expression in them your breath caught in your throat. You had no idea what had happened to him. Even though he looked the same as he always had there was something different about the way he looked at you. He looked at you like he was a lion and you were a juicy piece of meat. And though it startled you it also sent a thrill down your spine.

“What’s yours hum?” 

Your hand trailed down Milos chest fingers running over the clothes ridges of his abs.

“Yes…”

“And what do you do with what’s yours?”

He couldn't take it anymore. Not with the way your body felt warm against him and the way you bit your lips as you spoke. Milos lips crashed into yours, his hands tangling into your hair as he kissed you. You let him grab onto your body, a small moan leaving your lips when he gives your ass a squeeze. He loved the sounds you made as his hands moved against you. You break the kiss, the need for air getting to you. Milos hands don’t leave your frame, his fingers digging into your hips as he rests his forehead against your.

“Take me to your house.”

“With fucking pleasure darling.” 

You’ve been inside Milo's house a thousand times and you knew the layout like the palm of your hand. Even so you managed to walk into the wrong room. You blamed Milo. The way he tugged at your body in desperation left your brain dizzy. You glanced around the room, eyes falling on the desk in the corner.

“This isn’t your bedroom.”

Milo raised his head, detaching his lips from your neck. 

“You’re right it's not. But this works.”

“There isn't a bed Milo.”

“Oh darling, who said we need a bed?”

A smirk spread across Milo's face as he watched your eyes widen before glancing to look at the desk once more.

“Well what are you waiting for? Get over there.”

“You want me on your desk?”

“I was thinking more like over my desk but on works too.”

You rubbed tights together at the sound of Milo's voice. You weren’t used to seeing this side of him. He was usually quiet and slightly melancholic. The man in front of you wasn’t like that at all. The man in front of you was demanding and sexy. You'd be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

“I thought I gave you an order darling.”

Milos hand wrapped around your throat squeezing lightly as he leaned down to give your lips a quick peak.

“Get over there. Now.”

“Yes sir.”

You turned around a yelp leaving your lips when you felt Milos hand come in contact with your ass in a rough slap.

“That's my good girl.”

“All yours sir.”

Milo licked his lips making his way to you. He watched as you hopped onto his desk, spreading your legs so that he could see your underwear. A moan left Milos lips as his eyes caught a look at the lace you wore.

“Planning on getting fucked tonight?”

“I was actually. Just wasn’t expecting it to be by you.”

Milos smile drops at your words. He leans in closer, placing his arms beside each of your thighs, caging you with his body. You swallow dry at the sight of the scowl on his face worried you’d angered him somehow. You had made him angry but not at you. Oh no. He was angry at everyone else. Angry at the others that had gotten a chance to look at you, touch you and taste you before him. He loathed them but he couldn’t change the past. The only thing he could do is make sure that for this day forward he was the only one who could have you like this. Milos eyes bore into you the silence making you uneasy but then he gave you a sly grin and you calmed down a bit.

“You think that…”

Milos hands made their way in between your legs rubbing your clothed clit as he spoke.

“Anyone could fuck you better than i can?”

Your hips bucked as Milo pushed your underwear aside playing with your folds for a moment before inserting a digit into your cunt. Your lips fell open as you moaned, closing your eyes as Milo fucked your with his fingers.

“I asked you a question.”

“No i-ugh shit- don’t think anyone can fuck me better than you.”

“And who do you belong to?”

“Ah-fuck please- you Milo. I’m yours, I'm all yours.”

“Good girl.”

You placed your hands behind you, fingers digging into the wooden desk beneath you as Milo kept up his brutal pace.

“Wanna cum pretty thing?”

“Yess please Milo…so close-oh-please don’t stop.”

“Okay i’ll let you cum but first you gotta give me a kiss.”

You pushed yourself up so that you were closer to Milo, one of your hands finding his cheek. He smiled at you, plunging his fingers as deep as he could. You launched forward, giving him a rough kiss. 

“Cum princess, go on cum on my fingers.”

He didn’t have to ask you twice. Your body stiffened as your orgasm washed over you, your hands snaking their way across Milo's shoulders as he worked you down from your high. Your body sagged into his as he removed his fingers from your pussy and brought them to his lips. He licked his hand clean of  your juices, head falling back at the taste of you.  

“Taste so good darling.”

“Yeah?”

“That perfuct fucking pussy.”

“Your perfect fucking pussy.”

Milos dick twitched at your words the sultry tone in them making him feel impossibly harder. You seemed to notice the way his hips shifted closer to you. Your hands made their way to his pants unbuttoning them before reaching into his boxers. Milo groaned as you pallmed his cock making you smirk up at him.

“Happy to see me?”

“You have no idea.”

“I think I got a pretty good feeling.”

Milo laughed, placing a kiss to your cheek as he pushed your hair away from your face. You moved your face so that you could place Milos fingers into your mouth. He watched as you sucked on his digits, never breaking eye contact. You removed his fingers from your mouth with a pop.

“Can I take care of you Milo?” 

“As much as I would love that darling, I need to be inside you.”

“OKay. How do you want me?”

Milo pulled you off the desk flipping you around so your back was pressed to his chest.

“Lay down darling.”

“Yes sir.”

You did as he asked your ass brushing against his hard on as you did. Milos hands moved to your hips pulling your dress up so that he could get a good view of your ass. He let out a wolf whistle as he grabbed your cheeks. 

“Now that’s an ass I could get used to kissing up to.”

“What's stopping you?”

Milos grinned at you leaning down and giving your butt a soft bite. You pressed your face into the desk at the feeling, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“Delectable.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh don’t thank me just yet darling. I’m about to ruin you.”

“I wanna see you try.”

“Is that right?”

“Uh hum.”

Milos hands ran up your bare thigh, his fingers toying with the edge of your underwear before ripping it off in one quick motion. You gasped as the cool air hit your exposed cunt. It wasn't long before the chill air was replaced with the feeling of Milo's warm skin. He inched his dick into your pussy slowly, trying not to cum at the feeling of your walls fluttering against him and the sounds of your squeals. Once he was fully inside he tugged your hair, forcing you to lean off the table. You could feel the outline of Milos abs against your back as he leaned down to suck on your neck.

“This is that last warning darling. Last chance to back out. If I start now I won't be able to control myself.”

“Lucian i swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now.”

Before you could even fully finish your phrase Milo had laid you back down on the desk and started pistoling  into you. He’d bring his dick almost all the way out before plugging it back in all the way. Your nipples rubbed against the wood as your body rocked with Milos movements. You could feel the desk creaking beneath you a twinge of worry entering your system but quickly vanishing. So what if he broke the desk? He could afford a new one. What he couldn't afford was cumming before you. Milo's hands found their way to your clit, rubbing it exactly. He felt you clench around him as you came causing him to reach his own orgasm. Your body fell lip on the desk, whimpering as you felt Milo pull out. You shut your eyes listening to Milo walk to the other end of the room. He returned with a wet towel, gently cleaning up the cum that had started to leak down your thighs. You whispered a small thank you, far too tired to move. Milo threw the towel on the floor, his hands wrapping around your waist as he pulled you off of the desk. He sat down on his chair tugging you into his lap. You nuzzled into Milos neck, sighing contentedly. Milos' hands stroked your hair, observing you as sleep seemed to take over your body. He placed a kiss to your hair breathing in your scent. A scent that had been made for him and only him. Everything was just as it should be: you in Milos arms. The place which you’d always belonged to.

[sixeyescurseuser]

(1)

The temple curse Geto absorbs has a certain side effect; One that will strip away all the affects of his suppressants. 

He calls Shoko immediately. There’s no one else he trusts. Yaga-sensei would find this a pain to deal with, not to mention Geto’s placement at Jujutsu High would be at risk if he’s seen as a liability, and-

Geto would rather claw his insides out then admit to Gojo about being the so-called “burden that would drag them down on missions.”

Using his manta ray curse, Geto gets himself back to campus grounds and rushes to the infirmary where Shoko has already prepared a room in the isolated basement.

Geto has never gone through a full heat, only diluted ones because of meds he began taking once becoming a jujutsu student. Everything completely overwhelms his senses. His body aches already, and he’s beyond light-headed.

Bless Shoko, man. She made sure to get some blankets, pillows, and clothes from Geto’s dorm to bring into the heat room. If she includes some of her clothes and Gojo’s jacket that she stole when he took it off to train just an hour ago, then that’s their secret. 

“You know he’s gonna find out, sooner or later?” Shoko states, watching Geto gain a burst of energy as he meticulously arranges his nest.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” Geto says absent-mindedly, holding up a dark blue jacket that’s doused in the scent of cotton candy and faint gunpowder.

Shoko sighs heavily, about to point out the fact that Geto is currently hyper fixating on the exact jacket of who they’re talking about.

The sound of sniffles makes her bite her tongue.

There Geto is, holding the jacket up to his nose, clearly basking in the scent. Except tears pool in his eyes, the first few slipping down his cheeks.

“Satoru is going to h-hate me,” Geto chokes out. Shoko blinks, taken aback.

“He’s not going to hate you-“

“Yes he is! He- I lied to him! I’ve been lying to him,” Geto whimpers, subconsciously nuzzling into the fabric that smells like his best friend. The scent of a panicked omega fills the room. 

Shoko quickly walks up to the bedside, putting her hand on Geto’s shoulder.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright. Gojo may be petty, but you’re his closest friend! He adores you,” Shoko says softly, rubbing Geto’s arm comfortably. 

Geto merely shakes his head, which begins to pound with a sharp pain. He can’t think rationally, the only thoughts pointing to Gojo’s betrayed reaction.

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“Geto…”

“Which is why you can’t tell him about this,” Geto concludes, eyes narrowed as he scrutinizes his friend. “Shoko, promise me.”

Shoko makes the promise. She says she’ll be in periodically to check on Geto, make sure he’s drinking water and eating what little he can stomach.

After Shoko leaves, Geto’s heat continues to burn him from the inside out. That night, he lays in his nest, which feels like it has a crucial piece missing.

The dark blue jacket lays shoved beneath his pillow.

***

Gojo knows something is wrong. He’s very irritable, snapping at everyone and everything. It doesn’t help that Geto hasn’t talked to him since that conversation. 

Naturally, Gojo’s been replaying their argument in his mind over and over again.

Why did Suguru get upset? 

Angry. He was angry, Gojo corrects. 

The itch under Gojo’s skin continues to get worse. When there’s no sign of Geto returning on the day his mission was supposed to end, Gojo is positive something is wrong.

He goes to Yaga-sensei first.

Yaga-sensei doesn’t reveal anything, saying he hasn’t heard from Geto.

Gojo forgoes asking Nanami because apparently he's also pissed at Gojo for whatever he said the other day. Asking Haibara is out of the question.

So without anyone else to bother, Gojo heads to the infirmary.

Right as he enters the front door, Gojo is hit with the most intense wave of chocolate, with a hint of lavender. A scent he’s never smelled before, as that’s sure as hell not Shoko’s citrusy scent.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, Gojo heads for the stairwell that leads down into the basement. The scent grows stronger and stronger the closer he gets to the bottom.

A voice in the back of his mind tells him to fucking get a grip: a weird, enticing scent that has his body moving on its own? Major red flag. 

But alas, Gojo isn’t thinking clearly. And he’s still hung up on how obviously upset and disappointed Geto was with him. If Gojo can’t do anything right in the moment, he may as well do what his instincts are telling him - to follow the scent of chocolate and lavender.

Unfortunately, the sound of footsteps coming up reveals Shoko, who blocks the path to the rooms in the basement. 

“Gojo,” she acknowledges, a hint of surprise on her face. In her hands, she limply carries an empty tray. 

“Yo,” Gojo says dumbly. Shoko clicks her tongue, unimpressed by the innocent grin Gojo sends her way.

“You can’t be here.”

Gojo levels her with a determined expression. His subconscious knows who is in the basement. Shoko knows there’s no stopping him, so she reaches up to pinch Gojo’s cheek - HARD.

“You hurt him, I make you wish you were never born.”

When Gojo walks into the room, his brain short circuits. 

The scent he was smelling had belonged to an omega.

And that omega was Suguru.

(3)

[breelandwalker]

so, I know you've been vending at a lot of different craft fairs and witch markets for awhile now (sadly, too far away for me to attend!). would you happen to have any tips for someone looking to do the same at their local fairs? thanks!!!!!! ❤️

Sure! To start, brush up on three things - networking, recordkeeping, and people skills. Get an idea of what's going in on your area, talk to the organizers, see what the particulars are for the events. Here are some questions to ask:

What's the venue like? (indoors, outdoors, parking, accessibility)

Do I need to bring my own table and chairs?

Is there electricity / wifi available?

What is the table fee?

When is the event and how long does it run?

Is there a theme or target audience?

Is there advertising being done for the event? (Signal boost!)

Based on the answers you get, you can start putting your stock and setup together.

Do as much as you can WAY ahead of time. If you need to make things, start now. If you need to buy things, give yourself at least a month before an event to make sure everything arrives in time. Get yourself a 6-foot folding table and a comfortable folding chair or camp chair for events where they're not provided by the venue. Sign for Paypal, Venmo, and Cashapp as well as a card payment processing service like Square to give your customers the most payment options possible. And of course, plan to carry some small bills for cash patrons. (You don't need a register or cashbox, a simple bag of appropriate size will do. I literally use a pencil case that says Resting Witch Face. Works great.)

You'll want to get some displays for your merchandise. The type will vary depending on what you have, but it should be simply and sturdy and preferably easy to pack in and out. Vertical visibility is important at these events, so if you can find some kind of stand or tiered display, that will help you get noticed. I'd also suggest some simple clear plastic standups that you can put a printout price list and a basic sign in. A table banner helps people notice your table from afar and you should definitely have business cards to hand out with your shop info and socials. (I use Vistaprint for both.) Decorations are nice, but don't overload the table with them. They should augment your setup, not overwhelm it.

You may also want to get an 8x8 or 10x10 popup canopy and canopy weights if you plan to do outdoor events. Also, GET A COLLAPSIBLE WAGON. Best investment I ever made was a $45 collapsible wagon. It fits in my backseat and makes hauling things in and out of venues SO much easier.

Keep track of everything you spend related to your endeavors, including event fees, supplies, stock, setup items, displays, signage, business cards, and gas and food on the day. Keep those receipts - you can deduct them on your taxes later to offset your earnings. (Because registering as a business can be a pain and comes with fees, but if you don't do it, you may owe money for not collecting sales tax. Put aside some money for that tax bill, just in case.)

Prep your setup and stock the night before an event. Check your merch, charge your card reader (and bring a fully-charged auxiliary power pack and cord, just in case), make any updates to your inventory or pricing that you need to. It really cuts down on stress when you're loading up if you know you've already get everything set. I suggest reusable shopping bags or clear plastic bins to make things easy to haul, plus they can double as storage.

Plan to leave as early as you need to in order to account for traffic and pit stops. Pick an outfit ahead of time so you don't have to dither over clothes. It should be something appropriate for the event and the weather that looks neat and clean and is easy to move around in, including comfortable shoes. (Look to other vendors for examples.)

Make sure you bring water, snacks, and anything you'll need to get through the day, i.e. medicine (headache pills and stomach medicine at minimum), energy drinks, a fan for hot days, an extra layer for cold ones, etc. Get to the venue as early as the organizers allow. The more time you have to park, load in, and set up, the less stressed you'll be. Make sure things are arranged in a way that's accessible and makes sense. Place signage where necessary to explain items and pricing.

GO TO THE BATHROOM BEFORE THE EVENT BEGINS. TRUST ME.

During the event, you're gonna have to do a LOT of socializing, so prepare for that as best you can. Try to stand if possible when there's a lot of foot traffic so you're more noticeable. Be personable - you don't have to grin constantly, just try to keep a pleasant expression and greet people as they pass, especially if they look in your direction. Don't be afraid to invite passersby over if they pause to check out your setup. Welcome them in, invite them to check out your stuff, and let them know you're happy to answer questions. (And ALL questions are good questions. There are no dumb questions. Even if the question is the dumbest thing you've ever heard or it's the fifteenth time you've been asked that day.) Chat and banter a bit where possible. If you can get people smiling or laughing, they're more likely to stick around and possibly purchase your wares. Make sure as many people as possible take your card when they leave.

Yes, you will be exhausted when the event is over, even if you're a naturally outgoing person, and you'll still have to break everything down, haul it out, load your vehicle, and drive home. If you happen to have somebody who can help you out, that really comes in handy.

In any case, know your own capabilities and personal limits and plan for that when you're deciding where to vend. If a venue is too far away for your comfort or doesn't have what you need or the table fee is too high (be wary of any thing over $75 for a single day event), don't sign up. If an event is too long or too far outside your target audience, don't sign up. If you don't have an appropriate setup or don't have the stock / can't get it in time, don't sign up. If something about the event or the venue or the organizers rubs you the wrong way, DON'T SIGN UP. Talk to other local vendors to get an idea of where to go and what to expect. Most will tell you right away what works, what's good, and what to steer clear of.

This is all just the basics. You'll learn a lot more when you start to vend, as far as what your individual needs are, where to go to find reliable business, and how best to connect with local venues and customers. Keep records of everything you do (spreadsheets are your friend!), network with organizers and other vendors, and practice that sociable game face.

And trust me - if a disorganized introvert with social anxiety and ADHD and absolutely NO sales experience can figure out to do this, I think pretty much anyone has a chance.

Good luck!!!! 😁

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hello! I was wondering if you could please write up a BG3 headcanon request involving Halsin, Wyll, Astarion and Gale? How would they react to/take care of their Tav who has an alcohol or drug addiction?

A/N: Aw, man, do I feel this ask. Sometimes I like to joke that I come from a long line of alcoholics, because, well, I do. But it’s usually me trying to put some levity into serious family discussions. I don’t think a lot of people understand that addiction is a physiological illness: it’s a full-body response, not a case of “mind over matter” as some people like to say. There’s such a stigma and it sucks because research shows that when we respond kindly, and not with punishment or ostracization, that’s when addicts have a higher chance of recovery. So know that while I am no expert on addiction, I did try my best to be respectful and accurate. I hope you enjoy! 

TW: Addiction, Alcoholism 

BG3 Male Companions Taking Care of Tav Who Battles Alcoholism/Addiction 

Astarion: 

In a way, Astarion is kind of an addict himself. He’s a vampire, spawn, or ascendant, he needs blood for energy. He can go for extended times without it, but those times have been tortuous and caused lasting mental and emotional damage. That eternal need hanging over his head coupled with the impact of Cazador’s abuse has permanently re-wired his brain. Astarion doesn’t react like the average elf, he can’t, not anymore. 

So when it comes to altered brain chemistry, Astarion’s certainly no stranger. Although his addiction lies more within the supernatural, he can use his own experience to relate to Tav’s more pedestrian affliction. 

Astarion won’t ever outright deny Tav something. If Tav asks for a drink or a drug, Asation won’t take it upon himself to literally hold Tav down as a means of keeping them from consuming it. Astarion knows that method won’t work in the long run, and would most likely only result in Tav resenting him, and he can’t have that. 

Astarion will make a face or two, however, his expression switches from concerned to slightly judgemental depending on the context. He wants Tav to be aware of his opinion, but he doesn't want to smother them. Tav’s not a child, Astarion isn’t responsible for them. 

Still, thanks to his concern, I do think Astarion would confront them about it. He’d need to speak to Tav to hear for himself precisely what's going on. If Tav is still in their denial phase, Astarion tries hard to get them out of it. There’s no use trying to help someone who refuses to acknowledge they have an issue. Astarion knows, so he understands the shame that comes with it. But he reminds Tav he did eventually come clean about being a vampire, and about his past with Cazador, so now it’s Tav’s turn to do the same. 

Once Tav is open about their struggles, Astarion makes a point to check in with them throughout the day. He’ll nonchalantly provide Tav with alternatives to drink: water or tea, things that aren’t ale, and wine. He’ll be subtle about it though. Astarion will never act as if he’s going out of his way to do Tav a favor. No, it’s not like that, he swears! It just so happens Gale was asking for tea and Astarion thought he’d go make him some seeing as how sad and pathetic the wizards had been acting over losing his goddess, and Astarion thought, well, perhaps Tav would like some as well. 

The most difficult part for Astarion is witnessing Tav endure withdrawal. It’s a horrible, painful process. If Astarion didn’t know any better, he’d say the whole thing looked a lot like being killed and then brought back from the dead. He still remembers the way his body ached and burned and hungered upon Cazador turning him into a vampire. It may have been two hundred years but nothing could ever make him forget that pain. It’s why Astarion wishes, more than anything, that he could alleviate such agony for Tav. 

If Astarion remains a spawn, there’s nothing he can do but hold Tav close, dab their forehead with a cool cloth, and whisper soft words of comfort into their ear. ‘You will be alright, darling. Even this will pass.’ 

If Astarion has become a vampire ascendant, however, he can make Tav a vampire, if that is something Tav chooses. This isn’t a magic fix, however. While there’s a possibility Tav may no longer have the addictions they did as a vampire that they did as a human, there’s no guarantee that hunger will not carry over. Should it carry over, Tav would then be forced to be content with those previous addictions in addition to their newfound bloodlust. It’s a risk. But even if there’s a small chance it could work, Astarion proposes the idea to Tav. Ascendant Astarion would still find it preferable for Tav to be an addict as a spawn, as it makes it incredibly easy for him to control Tav’s actions. Sure, they may still be addicted, but without Astarion’s permission, they can’t take what they want when they want. It would create tension and a fair degree of hostility between the two. But Astarion the Vampire Ascendent believes an angry, vampire-spawn Tav to be superior to a happy dead one. 

And of course, no matter whether he’s a spawn or ascended Astarion makes a point that despite Tav’s addiction, he’s not going anywhere. If Tav falls off the wagon again, or if they’re not ready to try and face their addiction right now, Astarion will remain at their side, waiting for the day they’re ready to try again. ‘I’m not going anywhere my love. I can promise you that.’ 

Gale: 

Gale’s first response, of course, is to try and determine a way to solve this problem via magical means. Now as a wizard, he doesn’t have access to the kinds of healing spells druids and clerics have. But, he does a fair amount of arcane knowledge about enchantments, and curses. And well, what is addiction if not a natural, biological enchantment? Gale considers himself fairly rounded on the subject of human biology as well, so Tav is in for a bit of an earful if and when they first admit their affliction to him. 

Gale may not have experience with the kinds of addiction Tav is, but thanks to his experiments with Weave, and now having been cursed with the orb, Gale knows the urgency of living under a constant ticking clock. If he cannot consume the magic from magical artifacts, if the orb is not sated with bits of the Weave on occasion, he risks blowing up everyone for miles. 

In some ways, this makes Gale’s “addiction” all the more dangerous. It doesn’t merely affect his own body and the relationships with his loved ones, but it jeopardizes almost every other living person within Baldur’s Gate. Of course, Gale would never say this. And while he may think such a self-pitying thought, he dare not share it with Tav. The last thing Gale wants to do is make Tav’s very real problem seem inconsequential because it most certainly is not!

Instead, Gale offers to commiserate with Tav on occasion, making sure to never bellyache the loudest. He wants it to be Tav’s time to vent, complain, scream- to just let it all out. He knows Tav is under an incredible amount of pressure as their leader, addiction or not. Gale wants Tav to trust him enough for the two of them to be vulnerable around each other. I mean Mystra above! The whole camp knows that Gale’s easily susceptible most of the time, so there’s absolutely no shame in Tav admitting they experience similarly at times. 

Gale will take it upon himself to concoct a special drink menu for Tav, all nonalcoholic of course. It’s elaborate and painstakingly organized. If Tav thought their sober options were few and far between before, they certainly won’t now! Gale is the camp’s resident cook, so he takes pride in being able to satisfy not only everyone’s needs but to please their tastes as well. Well, except for Astarion. Blood is not ever to be a feature on Gale's menu, thank you very much!

The part Gale has some trouble with is wrapping his head around someone as wonderful as Tav would ever want such a life for themselves. Gale thinks highly of Tav, sometimes too highly. In some instances, Gale cannot see the forest for the trees thanks to the pedestal he’s placed Tav on. In such scenarios, Tav may have to remind Gale that they’re only mortal. And that this affliction of theirs is no more a choice than Gale’s own need for magic. 

Once Gale is on the same page, he ceases the majority of his condemnation, instead opting to try and distract Tav from the overwhelming desires raging on inside them. He offers to show Tav the Weave once more, or perhaps, some other simple, rather pretty tricks. Rolan’s display of fireworks in Emerald Grove wasn’t a difficult spell, and certainly no challenge for Gale. But if many simple spells are what it takes to keep Tav’s mind occupied as they ride out their newfound prohibition, then so be it. 

If by some miracle, Gale does find a spell or enchantment to help alleviate some of Tav’s worse withdrawal symptoms or cravings, he will perform it enthusiastically should Tav want. And if Tav prefers to handle this the old-fashioned way, Gale will do his best to bite his tongue and respect Tav’s choices. ‘I just want things to be easier for you. Life is hard enough as it is with all this tadpole business running around. Whatever you ask of me, you shall get.’ 

Gale is a faithful partner. He doesn’t run at the first sign of trouble, not when’s committed himself to another person. Be it in friendship, or romance, relationships mean a great deal to him. He refuses to let Tav endure this hardship alone. ‘I do not say this lightly: you mean a great deal to me. No matter the toils, I will stay by your side.’ 

Wyll: 

Wyll, above all else, aims to be an honorable man. Despite his suffering, despite his shortcomings and misfortunes, he refuses to falter or fall. His deal with Mizora may have sullied his Father’s view of him and dampened Wyll’s view of himself, but it did not change how he desires to see himself. Wyll knows the kind of man he wants to be and he does everything within his power to act accordingly. 

For Wyll, addiction is a difficult subject. He’s very strong-willed, and because he spends so much time working hard to do what he believes is the right thing, he can look down on other people at times. He has sympathy for people dealing with such afflictions, but behind his care, a small part of him is disappointed. He believes in choosing to be good, to try harder. He thinks all mortals are capable of acting wiser. So while Wyll understands Tav endures such difficulties now, Wyll also firmly believes Tav will have conquered them in the future. 

This can put a fair amount of pressure on Tav’s shoulders. But it can also serve to inspire them. In either case, Tav would need to talk to Wyll about how they feel when it comes to Wyll’s encouragement. Wyll, being the supportive man he is, would never want to intentionally make Tav feel demoralized. So if there’s something in his behavior or in his words of motivation that he can change to make Tav feel less burdened, he will do so. 

Wyll, like Astarion, knows he cannot make himself responsible for Tav’s choices. So Wyll does not take the part of Tav’s keeper, but he does make an effort to be near Tav as they make their decision, offering his opinion should Tav ask. The more Wyll’s presence remains a constant in Tav’s life, the more Wyll hopes Tav will come to appreciate his perspective. If Tav knows Wyll isn’t going to leave or abandon them anytime soon, they may feel emboldened to make the necessary tougher decisions of turning down a drink or two. 

Wyll is more than happy to stay up chatting the nights the cravings just won’t go away. During days Tav’s irrepressible urge causes them to feel restless and manic, Wyll asks Tav to join him for a lesson in combat. After all, he’s not called the Blade of Frontiers for nothing. Sweating out the chemicals and forcing the body to flush all the drugs out of Tav’s system is a great way to sober up. And if the symptoms of withdrawal aren’t all-consuming, it also makes for a great distraction. 

However, during the periods everything is all just too much: the headaches, the nausea, the itchiness, and the sweating won’t stop, Wyll finds a shady spot in camp for the two of them to rest. And as Tav rides out such agonizing lows, Wyll tells stories of his time as a child living in Baldur’s Gate in soothing, hushed tones. His warm voice brings comfort, a much-needed contrast to the ailment Tav’s fighting. 

Wyll cares deeply for Tav. And he believes in Tav, even when Tav doesn’t believe in themselves. ‘You can resist this, you will resist this.’ 

Wyll has no intentions of going anywhere. Addiction or sobriety, he and Tav are a team. Wyll sees Tav as a great hero: he knows they can fight to save themselves. ‘You are the strongest person I know. Nevertheless, you do not have to shoulder this burden alone.’ 

Halsin: 

Halsin is the least likely to have any shared experience when it comes to dealing with addiction. He has fought off depression and hopelessness time and time again but he knows not of the pitfalls addiction brings. Having lived as long as he has, there’s no doubt he’s met those suffering from such afflictions. And being a druid, he may even have been consulted on how best to treat them. But that’s the end of Halsin’s experience. 

If Tav has an issue, any issue, Halsin is more than willing to help Tav navigate it. After all, Tav helped him save the shadowlands from their darkness. There is no ask too great, Halsin could never say no to aiding Tav with a favor. To Halsin, Tav is a savior: they saved Emerald Grove, they saved Thaniel’s realm, hell, Tav saved all of Baldur’s Gate. Halsin feels he owes them unimaginable thanks. So it pains him greatly to know Tav is suffering. 

Halsin offers to use his abilities to help Tav ease their obsessive mind, and the nagging hunger addiction brings. Of course, druid magic alone is not enough to stop the urge from manifesting and whispering in Tav’s ear. Halsin offers to accompany Tav around town, to sort of supervise them, in his way. He won’t force Tav to change any of their decisions but he keeps a watchful eye almost like a doting father as he places a supportive hand on Tav’s shoulder each time they walk past a bar or tavern. 

Halsin knows he cannot control Tav’s actions, but he can influence the choices they make together as a duo. So long as he is at Tav’s side, Halsin will let his wise opinion be known. 

In their time outside of the city, Halsin takes time to educate Tav on the different flora and fauna found in Faerun. When they come across a plant used to ferment alcohol, Halsin explains the history of the process. Yes, wine and ale are examples of making use of what nature provides, but as with all other things, even nature must be consumed in moderation. Mother Nature blesses everyone with the ability to enjoy such pleasures, but that gift can double as a curse. It is a test of our restraint and humility to know when and where to indulge. 

Speaking of indulgence, Haslin would not recommend swapping one appetite for another, but should Tav want to bide their time engaging in an alternative pleasure, Halsin would be more than happy to oblige. Physical activity and sweating would help relieve Tav’s body of some of the toxins built up within their system. In addition, such activity provides a temporary release of euphoria in the body and brain, which would help combat the pain and despondence that come with withdrawal. ‘If I can provide you with the least bit of comfort. It’s no hardship from me. Far from it.’ 

In the case Halsin leaves Tav for a time to settle the newly displaced within Thaniel's healed realm, he does what he can to ensure his new village is a place of continued healing and sobriety for Ta. Halsin privately enlightens all of the other adults within his new settlement about Tav’s condition. He asks them, respectfully, to refrain from providing Tav with any alcohol or other substances whenever Tav comes to visit. 

Halsin does all within his power to let Tav know they are not alone in their journey, and that no matter the setbacks along the way, he intends to bolster Tav through it all. ‘You are by far nature’s greatest gift to me. No matter the foe, be it the shadows or the dependency within your mind, could ever keep me from you.’ 

If You Enjoyed, Please Consider Tipping Me Via Kofi!

[poptartzz2]

what do you think of the ship/rare pair prowlerbyte? ^^

Oh my gosh, I think it’s absolutely adorable & precious (≧◡≦) ♡

I was going to respond with this alone, but on a whim, I decided to make my first Drabble/pentadrabble!!

I hope you enjoy!

✩⟡∵⋰ ✩⟡ Detection ⟡ Prowlerbyte ✩⟡∵⋰ ✩⟡

✩⟡∵⋰ Synopsis: It’s just a regular day of sending anomalies home, until Margo detects someone new. Even though he wears a face she already knows, she feels they’ve never met before.

✩⟡∵⋰ Content: Fluff, staring rizz lol

✩⟡∵⋰ Wc: ≈ 450+

✩⟡∵⋰ Strawberry sticky (A/N): I apologize for any errors, I literally just wrote this out lol ❀

Spiderbyte can easily find herself encountering a lot of people and things she's never seen before.

Of course this comes through the lovely job of sending anomalies home. Wherever they call home, whatever dimension they belong to, there they will go with her help.

One day, a certain anomalie filters through HQ. Apparently, he got thrashed into another earth and got himself into some trouble. As per usual.

Prepared to send yet another person home, she watches as the caged troublemaker is taken towards the platform that will put him in his correct dimension.

However, as she catches sight of his figure, something seems oddly familiar about it. About him.

Looking closely at them now, Margo pauses in confusion. This person looks like Miles, Earth-1610 Miles, but it's not. He's far from it.

This isn't her Miles and she's only met one. This Miles, drenched in a dark magenta, is permeating a rugged, raw, indelicate and crude energy, one that her Miles has never exuded.

An energy he's never had to.

As he finally reaches the platform, Spiderbyte can't help but acknowledge how calm and unmoving he is. Most anomalies thrash, groan, complain, and try to escape their scarlet ridden cells.

He however, is unmoving. Just as his eyes are now unmoving from her.

With purple cascading down his silhouette, with softly braided hair glistening in the light, cold and pain dressed eyes meet Spiderbyte's gaze, Margo's gaze, clad in darkness and confidence.

Staring at her intently now, slowly eyeing her up and down, Spiderbyte remains in Prowler Miles' vision, almost drinking her in as if he would lose sight of vengance.

Vengeance. A ravishing craving, that sticks close to the Prowler.

Vengance. A sweet and savory treasure every person craves for; longs for, as their hearts cry out for justice they may never receive.

Never looking anywhere else, even as the white mechanical spider above him works to send him home, his eyes remain on her for moments on end.

Only as the spider finishes it's handiwork, does Margo notice the glint in his eyes.

Spiderbyte. His new fascination.

Spiderbyte. The young woman who the Prowler would love to chase down in pursuit of knowledge. Knowledge about who she is, where she's from, what she likes, and what she loves.

He wants to know about her now. He wants to have her now.

"See you 'round." Miles softly grins, with heavy eyes and a mind intent on getting what he wants.

Reading the implications behind his farewell easily, Margo knows she will see him again.

In fact, she's looking forward to it.

She's got a funny habit of interacting with the forbidden, and there's no one to stop her from doing it once more.

Even as Miguel places a hand on her shoulder, and gently says, "Try me, Margo", she knows nothing will stop this Miles from prowling into HQ again, and into her life once more.

[whumpapalooza]

The Whumps of March '25 - Mar 1

Cheers, @storyweaverofgondor! You've given me the burst of motivation to share some OCs I've been working on that lean more towards fantasy. Thanks for fostering creativity in our community!

Day 1 - “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

A fellow with amnesia woke inside a treehouse.

He was given a potion for his pain by a pair of women with the same face. Then a witch with a temper came to chew him out, followed by a sprite who kept things from getting out of hand. Then came a man with a crown of horns to match the green wings on his back, and a rabbit with a vocabulary more colorful than the dyes in his pelt.

Put simply: it was a weird day for the fellow with no memories.

Since he couldn’t remember his name, they offered him one: Mahogany. When they found out he didn’t have a place to stay, they offered him that, too.

They made him dinner. They made up a bed for him in an already-cramped room. Mahogany thanked them, shared drinks with them – and then, when all had gone to sleep, Mahogany finally had a moment alone.

He slipped outside the kitchen and onto a balcony. He peered through a sparse section of leaves that revealed a storm coming from the west. The wind was slow, but masses of dark clouds rolled in the distance. It was hard to tell whether the rain would reach them tonight or not.

“The fresh air out here is fantastic, isn’t it?”

Mahogany turned to see his new roommate, several yards away, just outside the kitchen door. “Oh, Whistle,” he said. “Hello.”

As a sprite, Whistle didn’t have a true physical form. Instead, they were made of ethereal silver energy. There had been several moments, early in the day, that Mahogany wondered if Whistle was just a trick of the light. Their visage shimmered like it wasn’t meant to be perceived, and they spoke with something like the echo of a voice.

Although Whistle’s presence was a bit unnerving, the sprite was reasonably friendly. “You’ve got the right idea,” they said. They gestured to the balcony. “May I?” Mahogany nodded, and Whistle glided up beside him.

The pair watched the clouds ride the horizon. Lightning sparked through different gray clumps, and the storm stirred in the breeze, tickling the inside of Mahogany’s ears.

Then, Whistle spoke. “I’m sorry about your memory. I know that’s not much, but I am.” Thunder rumbled through the silence where Mahogany’s reply was supposed to go. Whistle didn’t push it. “How’s the head?” they asked instead.

Mahogany hummed. “Better,” he said. The relentless aching he’d woken up with was fading, and the world didn’t seem so full of fluff anymore. “Rish is pretty good at brewing those potions.”

Whistle chuckled. “She’s had a lot of practice; we’re each a different kind of idiot. You’ll see.”

Mahogany’s eyes drifted up at the leafy canopy. “Thanks, you know. For letting me stay.”

“We’re happy to.” Lightning flashed in the distance. Whistle started drumming their fingers while they waited for the thunder. “If it helps,” they ventured, “there’s actually a few of us here who are, in a way…blank slates.”

Mahogany looked down at hands he didn’t recognize. “Got any advice?”

“Not really. Did you want some?”

“Kind of, yes.”

Whistle stared out at the clouds. They were smiling, but their silvery face was dappled with duller grays. “Well then, how’s this? You can’t change the past, you can’t freeze the present, and you can’t know the future. All you can do is use what you have now, and move forward.”

As far as advice, it wasn’t very comforting. Mahogany curled his fingers over the railing. “I don’t know what I should do,” he said.

“At this hour, maybe sleep?” Whistle suggested. He nodded his head to the treehouse. “Whether you’re spiraling out here or sleeping in there, night will pass and dawn will break. The choice right now is whether or not you’d like some shuteye before morning. Everything else? It’ll come.”

Mahogany breathed in and tasted rain. Closing his eyes, he could hear the distant deluge. Then he turned to his roommate. “Okay. Sleep it is, then.”

[tales-of-the-shrike]

*News Broadcast*

“It has now been nine nights of terror for the upper class. CEO’s, politicians, actors, have all been found stabbed to death with multiple wounds. According the police and FBI, these are simply copycat assassinations and with the help of the Secret Service and Homeland Security, they assure us the monster responsible will be brought to justice.”

The hero limps out of the early August heat and into the bar, the rattle of a pill bottle in his pocket and euphoria in his head. Tossing a cheap coaster onto the bar, the bartender asks with a friendly smile, “What can I get ya, hon?”

“Double shot of rum and a glass of diet cola.”

Just then, a wispy male voice asked for the same, slyly looking at the hero, “My treat, and I insist. You look as though you could use a few more drinks than that,” he said, motioning to the bartender for his bottle of rum. With a wry grin, he added, “Let me guess, you want to be ‘left the fuck alone.’”

“You know, I welcome a distraction, especially if you’re buying.”

“Top shelf, ‘Loptr’, if you will. One glass of this and you’ll be a new man. Fair warning, I can be a little garrulous after a few shots, but something tells me you won’t mind.”

The two men sat in silence for a bit, the stranger sipping his rum and cola, the hero throwing shots back like some sort of idiot cowboy.

“So... what seems to be the source of your misfortune?” the stranger's tone carrying an air of sympathy.

Feeling the emptiness on his left ring finger, the hero threw back another shot. “You know, talking about anything but my problems would feel pretty fucking good right now.”

The sly stranger kept him talking far longer than the hero would have liked. Their conversation ranged from the practical to the spiritual, from science to magic.

Looking inquisitively at the hero, the stranger asked, “I notice your pendant, a comics fan?”

“What? No, I mean yes, but this isn’t related. I’m a heathen; this is more or less to show my faith in the gods, not any particular devotion to Thor.”

“What are you devoted to?” The cherry on his cigarette looked like a flame dancing in his eyes.

“Balance, I guess. Trying to find harmony with the world. I think we’ve all lost our way and are more concerned with profit than giving back to the land. Don’t get me started; I could rage about capitalism and environmentalism till last call.”

Taking his last swallow, the stranger said, “I truly hope I alleviated some of your sorrow. Before we part ways...” He reached his hand out to the hero, giving him a little hand-carved spider. “It may seem foolish, but this has helped me in times of need, and I think it could be of use to you in your journeys.”

Struggling to stand straight, the hero accepted the trinket. As he put it into his pocket, it felt cool as ice and almost seemed to vibrate with energy. Staggering to the door, he thanked the stranger for the gift, conversation, and rum. He waited for his ride to show as the stranger seemed to disappear down the alley.

Limping his way to the bench, the hero reflected on the evening’s events and how things could have been so much worse. His knee ached, and the alcohol was doing little to ease the pain. He had held off as long as he could and reasoned he’d earned an extra pill or two. The familiar feeling of exhaustion washed over him as the night cooled and he waited for his ride.

The hero’s rideshare, a grey van, pulled up to the curb, and the window rolled down.

“The hero? Hop on in!” the grizzled driver said, tapping the dash. “This horse here can take you anywhere you want to go. She moves so fast you’d think she had eight wheels,” he added with a laugh.

“Thanks. I guess I got a little too drunk,” the hero mumbled as he climbed in.

“Ah. Celebrating, or...?”

Unusually chatty, the hero shook his head. “No, I, um... my marriage is over. I’m just trying to process this shit.”

The driver’s tone shifted abruptly. “I’m gonna be frank with you—I don’t care. Not in the slightest. I’m only here for a transaction.”

“Then why even fuckin’ ask?” the hero snapped.

“Well, you see, I just don’t have time to waste. I’m here to make a deal. I give you abilities you’ve dreamed about, and you give me what I want in return. Death.”

“Let me out, or I’m stomping a mudhole in your ass,” the hero growled.

Feigning shock, the driver put a hand to his chest. “My dear lord! Let me pull over and let you out!” His grin widened as he slammed on the accelerator. The streetlamps turned into streaks of light, buildings blurred into smears, and the traffic seemed to freeze.

“I said—”

“I know, I know. ‘Let you out, or the mudhole.’ Settle down, Stone Cold,” the driver said mockingly, dripping with sarcasm. He continued taunting the hero until they finally reached a dense forest.

The hero stumbled out, trying to catch his bearings. The noises in the forest were unnatural, sending shivers up his spine.

“Where are we?” he demanded.

The driver stepped out, his demeanor shifting. “Even though I’m known as a bit of a trickster—well, I used to be—I’ll be blunt with you. I’m Odin. In a drunken stupor years ago, you dedicated yourself to me. Now, I’m here to collect.”

“What? My life?” the hero asked, his voice shaking.

“Ha! If I wanted your life, I’d have it already. Foolish boy. I want your service. Among many things, I’m a friend to death, war, wisdom, and more. You are to be my weapon. The world has fallen out of balance—something I know you hold dear. You’re going to help me restore that balance.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” the hero scoffed. “I’m old, broken down, a Vicodin addict. I get freaked out by crowds and loud noises. What the fuck could I possibly offer?”

Odin’s hand shot out, grabbing the hero by the throat. His voice became a growl. “I told you... I. Will. Give. You. Abilities. You’ve. Dreamed. Of.”

He dragged the hero through the forest, his appearance shifting between various forms as he ranted.

“Do me a favor,” Odin said as he leaned the hero against a tree. “Hold this.”

With one swift motion, Odin pierced the hero’s chest with a spear, pinning him to the tree without killing him.

“For nine days and nights, you’ll hang here. You’ll suffer. You’ll transform into something useful to me. Suffer well.” he said with a grin.

Wolves wander the wilderness, wildly waiting, wondering when their meal will fall from the tree. Insects gnaw at the hero's wound while his mind traverses the realms. The horrors he saw were unspeakable; the pain he felt, unimaginable. But on the ninth night, the hero fell from the tree, landing on his hands and knees. He rose with a new vigor—his former pain vanished. He saw clearly in the darkness and heard things no man should be able to hear. He was now as much an animal as he was a man, a "wolf of Odin," ready for war.

“I see you made it... Day six was sketchy. Didn’t think you’d pull through, but my boy is a fighter!” Odin cackled.

“Call me your boy again, and I’ll gnaw your throat out,” the hero said with icy calm.

“Oh my! Don’t make me humble you. You may be strong now, but you’re no god... my boy.” Odin lunged at the hero, lifting him by the throat, reminding him of his place.

Setting the hero down, he turned to his bag and removed two knives, tossing them to the hero. The hero instinctively caught them by the handles.

“Made ofrtrsd Gungnir. I had the dwarves fashion the scale into daggers. They’ll cut through anything, can be thrown with precision far beyond what you’re capable of now, and they’ll return to your hands in an instant. With these, you’ll harvest the best of the warriors for me. My Einherjar need replenishing since all these bullets and bombs don’t seem to be sending anything my way.” Rolling his eyes, he added, “Who would have thought fighting without honor would mean none of these cunts make it to Valhalla?”

“That’s what I’m to do? Harvest warriors for your war? What do I get out of this?”

“You, my boy, get to live.”

An explosion of ravens burst from Odin, swarming toward the hero. He shielded his face, and when the flurry passed, Odin was gone.

Sirens screamed in the twilight as muzzle flashes lit the shadows like strobe lights.

In a darkened NYC police department, alarms blared, nearly drowned out by gunfire and the occasional plea for mercy. Unaware of the nature of their attacker, the police regrouped, leaving their wounded behind in hopes of slowing the assault. They had no such luck.

Near their armory, they dug in for a last stand. Lights flickered as one officer, a former soldier, began barking orders. His military training served him well as he set up a bottleneck to neutralize the attackers' numbers.

The flickering lights slowed until the room was plunged into darkness. The officers aimed at the door, unaware of the purple-and-black-clad figure gripping the walls in the corner near the ceiling. Dropping silently into the shadows, the leather-clad stalker cut and sliced his way through the department. The officers’ cries for help were drowned out by alarms and gunfire.

Down to the final cop, the hero stalked him as he futilely crawled to safety. The hero stabbed the officer in the back of the leg, pinning him to the ground. Like a wolf, he lunged at the downed man. Grabbing him by the helmet and pulling his head back, he whispered, “Tell everyone what you saw. Tell them true justice is here. Let them know the Shrike is here.”

Before knocking the officer out, the Shrike carved a runic word into the cop’s forehead with his blade tip, then disappeared into the night.

[authorautumnbanks]

How To Tame A Sorcerer (67)

Series Master list

Naraku opens the door and walks through the brothel like establishment. He nods his head in greeting to the attendant. "Zenin," he says, waiting with expectancy for the attendant to lead him to the private room. To a human's ears, this establishment is soundproof. But to a demon, even a half one like him, the sound of flesh slapping against one another, the cries of pain and pleasure, may as well be broadcasted over the speakers instead of the soft instrumental music.

"Naoya," Naraku greets, motioning for the attendant to leave them be. The Zenin stretches his arms out along the chair as a dark-haired woman pours another cup of tea. "It's been a while." Naraku sits down in the chair off to the side, closest to the door. He rolls his shoulders back and lets out a long-suffering sigh, as though the trek to this location was too great on his body.

"Miroku," Naoya says with a sly smirk on his face. Out of all the Zenins Naraku has delt with over the years, this one has been the easiest to manipulate. "Care for a drink?"

"Something other than tea," Naraku answers, watching as the woman bows her head as she scurries out of the room to fetch his drink. "I'm sure you are aware that Gojo Satoru has been sealed."

"Just in time," Naoya quips. "Bastard was trying to kick us Zenins out of Jujutsu. But you didn't come all this way to talk about him. Though I'm surprised you weren't at the meeting. Not like you to not be there to vouch for the clan."

"No, I came to talk about his fiancé and her connection to the jewel." Naraku reaches in his robe and pulls out the scroll. He ignores Naoya's comment. "I managed to retrieve this from Geto." He places the scroll on the table and leans back. That scroll was a real bitch to open. Unfortunately, its contents were nothing more than what he already knew.

Naoya quirks a brow and scans over the scroll. "This is about that Shikon the elders were talking about." He tosses the scroll down. "Sounds like a load of shit. A jewel that can grant any wish?"

The woman returns with sake in hand. She keeps her eyes lowered as she serves him. Her thin slip of a dress is nearly see-through.

Hm. Naoya must have already given her a tongue lashing regarding her place.

"Get over here," Naoya commands, "entertain me." He crooks his finger and motions for the woman to do his bidding.

Naraku bites back a sigh as he drowns his drink. Why must this human be so stupid? "Kagome Higurashi is a wildcard and must be eliminated. She will no doubt be attempting the unsealing of Gojo Satoru. The others are wary of her as well. She used some kind of power different from cursed energy–"

"She's just a woman," Naoya says with a scoff. "What could she possibly do? I've met her once. Easy on the eyes. Far too mouthy." He shifts, widening his legs as he leans forward. "I don't want to eliminate her. I want to ruin her. And if it's power she has, then that power would be better suited under me, serving me, and popping out stronger heirs."

Naraku narrows his eyes. When did he meet the priestess? "You want to possess her, then? Fine. Break her. But get any information on the jewel out of her." Of course, this mongrel would be more interested in fucking the priestess than getting rid of her. Where did he go wrong? He should have focused his efforts on someone else.

This Zenin is useless.

The only other Zenin worth his time was Toji, but no matter what he did, the man would not break.

"You seem awfully confident she knows anything about this fabled jewel." Naoya stares at him for a beat and then directs his attention to the dancing woman. "Strip and face the wall. I don't want to see your face."

The woman blanches, but strips nonetheless. Her movements are jerky. The chill in the room does not help. If Naraku was more of a man, he'd put a stop to this charade. But he is neither man nor demon, and so he ignores the woman's pleading eyes for help.

She knew what she was getting into when she signed up to work at a place like this.

"Something wrong with her face?" He reaches for his cup and frowns. Empty all too soon. Human sake does nothing to fill the void. Does nothing to drown out the voices in his head. He grabs the bottle and pours himself another glass.

"It's not her face. The hips are a bit too narrow as well, but this is the best this place had to offer." Naoya chuckles. "You're probably too old now to even get it up."

Naraku's eye twitches before settling into a friendly disposition. "Yes, these weak bones of mine aren't getting any younger, which is why I want to see you take your rightful spot as the clan leader."

And then he'll take Naoya's identity and take his rightful place as leader. Though if Naoya insists on keeping Kagome alive, then that could be a problem.

The priestess would see through his act. She's frustrating like that. And always has a knack for interfering right when he has everything set up perfectly. It is as though her sole purpose in life is to steal the little joy he has.

"Didn't ya hear?" Naoya twists his lips into a snarl. "Megumi, dearest is the clan head now. Daddy," he spits the word out, "made a deal with Gojo for Megumi to be clan leader if anything happens to him."

"So? Get rid of him."

No wonder Geto insisted on working with curses like Mahito. At least they would kill without questioning it.

A damn shame he could not absorb Mahito before Geto got to him. He had high hopes for how far that power would take him. He only has himself to blame for not considering that Geto would want Mahito's powers for himself.

In hindsight, he should have absorbed him before the Shibuya incident occurred.

Naoya rolls his eyes and goes back to watching the dancing woman, who sways to her beat, seemingly more relaxed now that she does not have to look at them.

"I can't just get rid of him without just cause. Not a curse user."

"You have cause. He's trying to unseal Gojo Satoru. What kind of clan leader would unseal a traitor to jujutsu society?"

Perhaps it would have been simpler to kill Naoya when he was a child.

"Ya ain't so bad, Miroku. Knew daddy dearest was stupid for doubting you." Naoya reaches over and takes a swig out of the bottle. He slams it down on the table and stands.

"I'm in no mood to watch you fuck," Naraku says with boredom dripping from every word.

Naoya barely glances at him as he shrugs out of his clothes. "Ya know so much about that woman. Bring her to me. Set up a meeting. Whatever. I don't care how ya do it, but I want her."

His head throbs. If he could get the priestess so easily, then he would have done so a long time ago. Does he not realize how protected the priestess is?

He must not because he wouldn't have spoken such ridiculous orders.

"Bait then," Naraku murmurs to himself as he pours another drink, ignoring Naoya's heavy grunts. "Call for Megumi, then. She'll come for him." He rises and curls his lip in disgust. The woman's fake moans remind him of a bunch of squawking imps. His ears may as well be bleeding.

These humans are so barbaric.

He closes the door with a slam and nearly stumbles into a woman with poorly dyed red hair. Her green eyes, fake, but close enough to the color of Yumi's nearly knocks him off his feet. He grabs her by the arm.

"Give me a room now."

"You good?" Megumi asks, stepping to Yuji's side.

Yuji startles and then scratches the back of his head. "Just thinking is all. How Kagome-san can remain so positive after everything that has happened? How Shippo turned us into weasels. Why Nobara is getting a manicure from Jaken?" He motions towards Nobara, who flips him off with her free hand.

"Jaken is a skilled demon. You should show some respect."

Jaken hums, his green bald head shines under the light. "That's right, you silly humans. Nothing is too great for the great Jaken. Why I practically invented manicures. No one else knows how to pay attention to the small details like I do."

Yuji turns to look at Megumi, who instead looks so done with the scene in front of him. He does not blame him. There is something so wrong with seeing the green imp painting Nobara's nails as though his life depends on it.

Yuji squints. Are those paw prints on her nails?

"... I'm going to check on Nanami-san," Megumi announces, face turning an interesting shade of pink.

"I'll come with you." Yuji does not want to stay there and watch Nobara get pampered, nor does he want to run into Shippo. That fox is always up to something. "Though how do you know where to go?"

Megumi points to Buyo Jr. who flicks his two tails up in a universal, screw you pose.

Yuji frowns. What did he even do to Buyo Jr. for him to mistreat him so? It's not like he meant to snag his fur with the comb. And it was just one time.

They reach the room Nanami is staying in. There's no guards outside the door like Kagome-san's room. These demons must care a deal for Kagome-san with how much protection they provide her.

He can't even see her unless Shippo or InuYasha are around. Not that he blames them for being cautious, Sukuna has been seething ever since she put those beads on him, and normally he keeps his thoughts and emotions from leaking out. Now it is as though Sukuna wants him to be as miserable as he is.

Eh... on second thought, Sukuna always wants him to be miserable because he's a dick like that.

"Come in," Nanami says.

They walk in and the room is actually quite small compared to Kagome-san's massive room. It's comparable to a closet in an apartment.

"Glad to see you two are alive," Nanami says, from his place in the bed. His eyes are more tired than usual. "Where are we? This isn't Jujutsu High."

Yuji blinks. Does he not remember?

"Kagome-san saved you. We're at Sesshomaru-sama's estate in the sky. They even have a full staff with a chef and a clinic." Not to mention the training room, the freaking two-headed dragon, and there's probably a lot more he hasn't seen since this place is so dang massive.

Nanami lets out a long sigh, a sigh so deep his shoulders slump. "Estate in the sky? So, we're with the demons now? How did she save me? It was soul manipulation. Not even Shoko-san can do that."

"She uses her reversed curse energy for healing and defensively," Yuji says, thankful that he has the answer for once. His cheek moves and Sukuna's mouth appears.

"That's not it. The bitch is a damn priestess."

Yuji smacks his face. Buyo Jr. hisses and jumps on Megumi's head.

Did the subjugation beads loosen Sukuna's tongue or something? Why is he being so damn mouthy, as if anyone cares what he thinks?

"Nothing surprises me anymore," Nanami says. "But if that's the case, why would demons be working with a priestess?"

A spike of energy from behind them cuts off Yuji's line of thinking. The energy is oppressive. Dark. He feels as though he is being weighed down by at least five cars.

"If you have time to chitchat, you have time to train," InuYasha says, leaning against the door with his arms crossed. His golden eyes burn with fury. His dog ears are flat against his skull.

Yuji doesn't know much about dogs, but he knows any animal with their ears pinned back like that is pissed off about something.

"Meow."

"Don't agree with him," Megumi hisses.

"Meow."

"Ugh, fine," Megumi agrees to whatever Buyo Jr. said.

"Come on, unlike the rest of you, Yuta is at least taking the upcoming games seriously." InuYasha jerks his thumb behind him and waits for them to move out of the room. "Ya'll ain't winning shit with your current skill level."

"What games?" Nanami asks, from behind Yuji. He places a hand on Yuji's shoulder and squeezes.

"Culling games is what they are calling it."

"And what are we culling?"

"Sorcerers. Cursed Energy." Megumi pauses. "They also kidnap Tsumiki, so we have to take part to get her back."

Nanami looks up at the ceiling. "This is shit."

Yuji nods his head. If Gojo-sensei were here, these games would not be happening.

This is shit.

[scummy-writes]

I'm going to make this a separate post itself so its not one honkin huge thing attached to the poll when I reblog it.

Regarding Vic's health primarily (he's mainly okay from what we know atm) and comm money in general

I referenced this but cavaliers can have a lot of neurological issues. Apparently this stems from their skulls being too small for their brains often?

I took him to the vet on 10/19 because he was having an issue with what I thought was his ear. What has been happening, since the day I got him back in june, is that he would occasionally scratch at his left ear and start yelping a lot. The place i got him at checked it and said he was fine, the vet I took him to just a couple of days after also checked it and said he was fine. They said that it was likely an anxious thing, so it was dismissed.

And to be blunt, for a while, he only had that yelping scratch occasionally. But within the past monthish it started getting more frequent. And then when it hit too often (4-7 times a week), I called the vet after the first long run of it happening persistently and got an appt a week later. I got worried he had an ear infection even though he was showing no actual signs of an infection of any sort.

And they did the full gambit of an exam, even cleaned his ears, and verified again: no ear infection. No seeming issue with the ear itself. But, she explained she noticed he had a weird gait, which she later called a hypermetric gait, and said shes very worried he has ataxia and/or some issue with his cerebellum. She immediately worked on a referral and told me the neurologist is likely going to want an MRI and to expect it, and that I needed to get him checked out Soon as she was worried the ear thing would get worse. Which. When I explained again how often it was occurring, she seemed more concerned and ran to get pain meds for Vic.

Neurologist was closed friday, so I spent the whole weekend googling what I could. Ataxia is not a illness, but its a symptom. I have no idea of what, and thats what I gotta get checked out. Googling it was uhhhhh. Not fun. Google scared me with talking about how bad cases of conditions that ataxia is connected to usually require the pet to be put down.

Looking on reddit made me feel a bit better. Specifically cavalier talk reddit. Sometimes this thing leads to surgery, but it also seems very likely that (in a good case scenario), Vic may just have a life of pain management. Hopefully minimal pain!!!!

The neurologist called me today and scheduled an appt for nov 2nd. Apparently its an exam and, if needed, MRI same day. Exam is $180 (wheeze), and an MRI can be anywhere between 3k-4k (wheezes louder).

As long as talks with bank go well, if they push for an MRI, I'm going to do it. Even if the diagnosis is that Vic is just a silly lil dude with anxiety, it'll be worth it, you know? For the peace of mind, to know there isn't anything scary with his noggin.

The MRI can be rescheduled, so that will be my next option if bank talk does not go well, but. Thats the info I got. Please keep in mind what the vet said verses what I googled, as google is not a vet.

When it comes to commissions, the funds will likely not go to this. This is why:

Every time I get paychecks, I look on my Bill Schedule and deduct all the stuff that will be coming out that paycheck and work with whatever is leftover. Usually thats not a crazy amount left. If I succeed with regular comms, the money would be going towards any bills I may be struggling with that paycheck/month, or small things to help like. Yaknow. Live outside of bills. Like money towards a cheap haircut. Some energy drinks that week. Getting a couple of extra things when grocery shopping instead of what I count as absolutely needed only.

I wanna be transparent, so I am. It'd likely go towards treats for me to make living not unbearable. That is that. It wouodnt be going towards Me commissioning others, though I will be transparent Still and state I did pay for a small comm before vet visit and so if yall see that, that was smth i paid for already.

[journeythroughlifesblog]

'Help' AU Chapter 13.

Wukong woke up late. Just like every morning his legs were paralyzed. He didn't get up. He looked around the room. There was no Macaque. But his armor lay next to him. All gold. He said softly, "Liuer?" but it was enough for the warrior to emerge from the shadows next to his sun.

''Hi. Did you sleep well?” asked Macaque.

“How long?” asked the king.

''Don't worry, you won't be late. Bring you something to eat?” The king nodded. The warrior sank back into the shadows. Wukong stayed alone in the room for only a moment.

Macaque had a tray full of fruit, mostly his sun's favorite peaches.

"Why don't you give me some tea first?" said the king ironically.

"Why don't you tell me these things before?" He glared at Wukong.

The warrior took a waterskin from the shadows and handed it to the king, who drank some and gave it back to his moon. Wukong sat up straight.

"Drink more..." said Macaque.

''Before the fight''

''Agree. Now eat." The king obeyed. He ate everything Macaque brought.

"I see you have an appetite," said the warrior with a smile.

“I need energy,” Wukong replied. "Yet you brought me armor"

''Well, I thought if you're going to fight anyway, then with class.. now try it on. Everyone is already in the field and waiting''

"And yet I slept long," said the king

"It's not noon yet, but they're all gathered there to see the show anyway."

"How many gods are there?"

''A lot. Come on, put that armor on."

Wukong donned his armor. It fit him perfectly, but it was actually heavy. The king staggered on his feet.

''I can...''

“No, it must be me.” He took his staff out of his ear.

''Ready?''

The king nodded. Macaque opened a shadow portal and they passed through it.

DBK was waiting on the other side of the battlefield. He didn't look pleased. He was worried.

Monkey King looked around and saw the celestials watching from above. Among them were Erlang, Guain and Nezha.

Wukong felt a slight doubt about it all for a moment. But he looked at his moon and immediately his sorrows left. He was ready.

''No madness. I'll be waiting for you here." Said the warrior. The king kissed him goodbye.

The sky was clear anyway.

The time of battle has come. There was no going back. The show must go on.

DBK was the first to strike. They started to push. Wukong blocked all strikes. But it was more tiring than the king expected. He could barely catch his breath. But he couldn't stop. The crown left its mark on him. DBK saw Wukong start to drip blood from under his crown. That's why he gave the opportunity for the monkey to attack him. It was supposed to be just a show, not a fight for life, but for Wkong with this crown, it was a fight for life. The king had to remember that he could not be carried away by his emotions. DBK looked intact. On the other hand, Wukong showed his tiredness and his pain caused by the crown. The celestials watched it with a cold stare. DBK realized that if he hits too hard now, Wukong may not get up again and it will spoil the whole show. Their eyes met. DBK nodded. Showing that it's time for the finale. Wukong summoned his cloud and flew up as fast as he could. He used all his energy to cut off the top of the mountain. At the same time, he almost lost his balance. He directed his staff straight at DBK who were ready for it. It was obvious to all the celestials that DBK had indeed been sealed, but in fact, as planned, Macaque used the shadow portal and moved DBK to the castle.

Wukong fell to his knees from exhaustion. The warrior noticed that his sun was not rising. He quickly used the shadow portal to get to the king.

“Wukong?” said the warrior. The king was breathing heavily. The warrior heard no reply. He knelt before the king and saw that his sun was still struggling with the pain of the crown. All of the king's hair was smeared with blood. The warrior put his hand on the king's cheek.

“Wukong?” said Macaque again.

"Take me away from here.. please." Tears streamed down the king's face. The warrior looked at him with eyes full of love and compassion.

''All right. Can you get up?''

''No.. probably not''

The warrior sighed. He created a shadow portal and moved it to them so that they disappeared into it.

[hel-phoenyx]

Senri is the Almighty gf's character, Nicomaque @soupedepates's and Inquisitor @noa-de-cajou's

I don't know how I ended up here. One moment I was happy, calm, planning my next days as much as I could, wanting to ask Thibault out even if I knew I wouldn't be taken seriously again why would he there's no way he wants something with me no way he can still like me after letting my letters unanswered and stopping to write to me altogether and

And the other moment I am sat on a wall far, far away in Tokyo with the man I loathe the most of all that school next to me, smoking the thirtiest cig of the hour.

And here I promised no one would see me in that state since Senri. Pathetic idiot I am.

Nicomaque holds the pack in front of me.

"Want one ?"

I'm on seven months sober, but right now refusing would take me too much energy. I take one, and he lights it with his own. I won't admit that turns me on yet. I'm too dazed to be horny anyway.

I inhale the smoke in silence, and the familiar taste brings some sort of clarity to my blood-soaked brain.

Nicomaque gives me one of his smug smiles. I want to rip it off.

"Still not gonna talk, huh."

"Shut up."

"Ah, thought as much. And now that you can talk, what do we say to the man that distracted Inquisitor away so we could sneak out ?"

"Fuck you."

"Still the vocabulary of a five year-old, I see your brain hasn't quite come into place. You're welcome, van Heel."

Stop smiling. It infuriates me. But at the same time, I didn't think I could feel something.

I hate this brand of cigs. Of course, he picks it because he knows the smell on him is even more damning this way. At least, this time, that stops me from finishing the smoke, and asking for another. I just crush it on the wall next to me, dangerously close of his hand, without looking his way.

I hate feeling vulnerable. I hate showing a hint of weakness. I hate that it's him who saw that.

I don't even remember what triggered the meltdown. I'm not supposed to have meltdowns that violent. Last time was when I saw Senri's scars, so different and similar to mine at the same time, but no one showed me pain or sadness this time, so why did I end up too weak to even tell Nicomaque to go fuck himself, and maybe let me watch because you can't change a man ?

I am so tired.

He puts off his own cig, before jumping off the wall.

"Well, if you're not gonna talk, that means I can bring you anywhere and exploit you without retaliation. You paying me something to drink ?"

"Dream of it, Papoulos."

"Mister millionnaire doesn't want to help the proletariat, shame. I guess I will have to steal your credit card to correct that mistake."

"Aren't you from a well-off family in Greece?"

How do I know that ? Because he brought me there once for a week in summer vacation. I met his family, or more accurately I met his grandmother. Immediatly weirded out, might I add. I'm not well-versed in family dynamic but I know how to recognize overbearing and although involuntary emotional manipulation.

The prime example of emotional incest standing right in front of me, with his shoes untied since this morning. I'm waiting for the moment he trips on them. I wonder who tied them, huh... Oh, I'm an idiot. Augusta. End of May 2019, they are in a relationship since maybe one or two weeks, and he still haven't driven her away. Almost a miracle.

My commentary is only making him laugh. Funny how that is amlost waking me up.

"Yeah, Greece. Economy crisis and all that. i'm sure your bank account has enough to cover the expenses of a poor college student, you posh bourgeois."

"Fine ! I heard you! Let's indulge in your alcohol addiction, asshole, but I'm not paying more than 5000 yen !"

"Good enough. Come here, walking wallet, let's get drunk before getting back to class."

Alright, once can't hurt, I guess. Louna is probably gonna kill me if she learns where I was, and Sharon must be worried sick not seeing me in the school grounds, but I'm too empty to care, and right now only thing worth a fill is the immoral Ethician's smug smile.

[snzysimper]

Alright, here we go. This is probably the longest thing I’ve written in such a short amount of time and been happy with. It’s probably not 100% what you are used to, but what matters is that it was fun for me to write. If this somehow magically happens to blow up, who knows? Maybe you’ll get more content like this.

I’m thinking about writing a different ending for this, just so that the people who enjoy more fluff can appreciate this.

Regardless, enjoy.

All Good Things Come to an End

3k words

CW: trauma(?), brief mention of character death, angst

Fandom: Eddsworld- Red Army

|| I am allowed to write what I want and I would appreciate you keeping whatever rude comments you may have to yourself ||

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It had been nearly a year since the falling out of Tord, otherwise known as “The Red Leader”, and his 3 former roommates. Everything had gone fine up until he nearly killed Tom, did kill one of the neighbors, and blew up the house. But that was ok. Who has time for friends when achieving world domination? The world isn’t going to take over itself, you know. Besides, he had other friends. Well, not exactly friends. More like people who were forced to obey him. Two in particular; Paul and Patryck. Not to say that they didn’t care about him. They were the ones who rescued him after his giant robot exploded. Although they obeyed Red Leaders every order, that doesn’t mean that they did so correctly. They were the ones who crashed a plane which resulted in a zombie apocalypse. Despite all of this, Red Leader finally accomplished his goal. With him in control, things slowly began falling apart. For civilians at least. For Red Leader and his army, everything was sunshine lollipops.

For the most part.

Recently, Red Leader often could be found thinking about his old friends. Especially Edd. He could live with never having to see Tom or Matt ever again, but not Edd. He was different. For some reason, he felt almost..guilty? The look of pure shock, sorrow, and betrayal on Edd’s face when Red Leader had said that they weren’t friends had haunted him for years. He longed to see him again, even if it were only for a second. Just to make sure that he was safe and hadn’t been killed off in the war. He would never forgive himself if he had indirectly killed his best friend. He kept this all to himself, but that doesn’t mean that no one noticed his change in attitude. Paul and Patryck sometimes asked him about what was on his mind. He eventually opened up and explained how he was feeling. He trusted the two of them more than anyone else. Despite him often being snarky and blunt towards them, they held a special place in his heart. They were the first people to join his army and were always the first to offer assistance with whatever he should need. While they did their best to comfort him, it didn’t help ease the pain much.

With fall rapidly turning into winter, Red Leader longed for Edd to be there with him. He was always so kind and nurturing during the cold days of winter. They would sit on the floor in front of the TV, wrapped in blankets, drinking hot cocoa to their heart's content, and spend time talking about whatever came to mind. Now it would never be the same.

“You have a fever.” Paul removed the thermometer from Red Leader’s mouth. 38.4°C. Red Leader got up from the couch where he had been sitting. “I’ll be fine.” He headed towards the door, but not before Patryck had seized him by the wrist. “No.” He began leading him back to the couch, but Red Leader wasn’t going down without a fight. “Get off me!” Patryck normally would have obeyed, but not this time. Not with his leader in such a state. Paul got up to assist Patryck in putting Red Leader back on the couch. His attempts to free himself from their grasps were all in vain. He just didn’t have the energy. He eventually gave in and allowed them to sit him back down. Red Leader crossed his arms and frowned facing the ground. “You are to stay on the couch until we say otherwise.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Red Leader looked up at Patryck with only his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were the one giving orders around here. I expect you would like me to go out and watch the prisoners for you as well?” Being low on energy wasn’t going to stop him from speaking to his men in a disrespectful manner. “Well, I am today.” He pointed at himself with his thumb. “And I will be until you are better.”

Red Leader sighed. “Fine. Whatever.” He fell over onto his side, his arms still folded. The Norski muttered some sort of foreign profanity under his breath. Patryck faced Paul. “Come on, we need to go get supplies.” Turning back to Red Leader, he very sternly said, “And you better stay put. I don’t care if we have to tie you down with rope. You are resting.” The two headed out of the base, leaving Red Leader alone in the common area.

It was just him and his thoughts with nothing to distract him. He once again began to think about old times with Edd. He was always so gentle and understanding when he was ill.

“Lay on the sofa. I’ll be back with some medicine. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t worry, when I come back, you’ll have me all to yourself.”

Edd would never force him to do anything he didn’t want to, although he would heavily suggest doing so. He almost always would give in to Edd’s requests. How could he not? He was always so patient and kind. Red Leader shivered. He felt like he was outside in the snow with nothing but a t-shirt, despite having on his hoodie and his uniform. He aggressively rubbed his nose in an attempt to relieve the itching sensation. He tilted his head back slightly as his breath began to hitch. “Hhh hH-nkkt!” He held his nose shut as he sneezed.

“Come on. Don’t do that. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“So what? It’s better than me sneezing and getting you sick.”

“I don’t mind. Just as long as you’re feeling better. So please, don’t hold your nose. Besides, you’ll feel better if you let them out.”

He sniffled, not wanting to drip snot onto himself. “H’tkkchh!! H’kkccht!” He had to admit, not allowing his sneezes to come out at full force hurt his already pounding head. It hurt. Everything hurt. He ached all over, his throat was sore, his head was pounding. He was overall miserable.

“Here, I have some medicine for you.”

“snDff, th-thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’m going to heat up some soup for you. Stay right here.”

What he wouldn’t have given to have been back home, his real home, curled up on the sofa with Edd, watching whatever happened to come on the TV. He sniffled, trying to think of something other than the already perfect life he’d once had. No matter how hard he tried, his mind kept going back to memories of him and his friend.

“Please take the medicine.”

“No, it tastes like chemicals.”

“And there’s probably a reason for that.”

“Case in point, I’m not taking it.”

“Your nose is so stuffed up, you probably won’t be able to taste it anyway. Please just take it.”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Memories of the strong relationship he’d once had had taken over his mind. He had bottled up his feelings of sadness for too long. He reached his breaking point. He began crying, tears rapidly running down his face. “God DAMNIT!” He grabbed a pillow from the sofa and chucked it full force at the wall. He brought his knees to his chest and sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I-I-!!” He shouted in emotional pain as he lowered his head. He had no problem being loud and letting everything out. He was all alone. No one was there to see him as such an emotional wreck.

Right?

Having tired himself out from crying, Red Leader fell asleep for a good long time. Not to say that it helped much. When he woke up, he was still exhausted. Someone had thrown a blanket over him while he was asleep. He glanced out the window wondering how much time had passed. He looked around the room. Paul and Patryck still weren’t back? He groaned. His head was pounding and his nose was so stuffed up he could barely breathe. Upon further inspection there were some grocery bags on the ground by the door as well as a note that had been left next to him on the couch.

“ ‘There’s medicine, tissues, and some cough drops in one of the bags along with other supplies we needed. Be back in a bit.’

-Patryck”

He tossed the note off to the side. Where the hell would they have gone? Technically they weren’t permitted to leave the base without permission, but Red Leader was too tired to care. He mustered the energy to get up on the couch and walk over to the door and grab the supplies. He found several packs of tissues, cold and flu medicine, cough drops, and cans of soup. He rolled his eyes. Having to pay for guns, tanks and other various weapons and technology didn’t exactly leave them with much money for common household utilities. They didn’t even have a can opener, let alone a microwave. He staggered back over to the couch where he put the supplies on the couch next to him. He picked up one of the soup cans and attempted to open it with a knife. He eventually managed to make a big enough hole to be able to drink the broth. Despite this, his stomach still hurt from not having consumed any actual food. “Hhk’tcch!! Eh’schh!! H’mptch!!”

He tried to go back to sleep, but he was abruptly woken by chaos from outside the base.“Hold still, you’re only making things harder for yourself.”

“Get off of me. I didn’t do anything illegal.”

“You are being ordered to remain silent.”

Red Leader groaned. From what he could hear, Paul and Patryck had a new prisoner. The last thing he felt like was interrogating someone and finding a new cell to keep them in. After a bit more struggling, Paul and Patryck entered the base, leading a man with his hands and legs tied. A cloth had also been shoved into his mouth. From what he could see, Paul and Patryck had had to beat him up a bit in order for him to comply. “Jævla, what did you two do this time?” His already hoarse voice was even more shot from yelling and crying. Paul shoved the man to the ground causing him to fall to his knees. “We decided to hunt him down.” Red Leader groaned, getting up from the couch. Removing the cloth from the man’s mouth, Red Leader kicked him in the stomach, to which the man fall forward onto the floor. He might have felt like hot steamy shit, but for now, he had to look professional. He was about to carry out his usual routine of laughing and going through the whole process of what being held captive would entail, but he suddenly stopped.

“Edd?”

The man glared at him. “What the hell do you want?” It was clear that the man had no difficulty recognizing his former friend/roommate. Red Leader looked up at his men. He was suddenly filled with rage. “What did you do to him!!” He pushed Edd to the side with his leg so he could confront the two. “What is wrong with you? Why did you capture him! He hasn’t done anything bad.” Patryck had no problem retaliating. “What we did was bring you your precious friend. All you ever do now is mope around telling us how much you miss him. So we captured him and brought him to you.” Red Leader sighs. “Untie him.”

“Are you certain? He is most likely going to try and-”

“Now.”

“…yes sir.”

Patryck and Paul left so that the two could be alone. Red Leader glanced in his direction every so often. Edd had been tied down to a chair by Paul so that he had no chance of escaping. Red Leader took some time to study him. He had changed a lot since he had last seen him. He was taller and more muscular. He had a much paler complexion than he used to, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He had grown facial hair, making him look older, despite only a few years having passed. “Edd-”

“Shut up.” The man glared at Red Leader, flipping him off. After a few more minutes of silence, Edd looked back up at him. “You’re a bastard, you know that?” Red Leader sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to happen the way they did.”

“Bullshit. You knew what you were doing. You would have killed us if you had gotten the chance to. You almost did kill us. You’ve killed so many other people. What’s to stop you from killing your friends too?”

“I-”

“Oh. Wait. You have none.”

The heater turned on, humming quietly. It had been a while since it had been used, so it was covered with a layer of dirt and dust. The air filled with the smell of burning dust. While Red Leader was happy that it was starting to get warmer, it came with a small price. He rubbed his nose, trying to be as discreet as possible, but Edd knew him too well. He sat quietly, waiting patiently. “H’ktcch!! Kt-CHss!” He did his best to be as silent as possible, but it would be near impossible to expel the irritant from his nose while doing so. “Hmpt’chh! Hh hhH-!! Hh’gGesshs!!” Damn it.

Edd smirked. “You’re pathetic. Just as weak as you always used to be.” Red Leader couldn’t help but agree with him. While Edd’s reaction to him showing signs of illness felt like a stab in the chest, he knew he had no right to complain. Not after all that he had done. “He’schh! H’chhs! K-tchiih!!” Edd rolled his eyes. “Are you quite finished?”

Nope.

“Hn’kkchh!! Hhm’pptcch!! Hek’tchh!”

“You disgust me, you know that? If I get sick because of your disease ridden ass, you will have hell to pay.”

After a short moment, the sneezing had subsided. For now at least. Sniffling, he thought about something he could do to try and make Edd not completely hate him. After a moment, he got up and walked over to the pantry where he dug around and found a can of cola. He stashed them in the back of the pantry. He walked up to Edd and put it in his lap, refusing to make eye contact. “I thought you outlawed this years ago. Or was it more of a direct target?” Edd looked down at the can of soda that lay in his lap. “You think this is going to change my view on you?” He looked back up at Red Leader. “You said it yourself, Tord: who needs friends when you have control of the world? For you everything has been perfect. No one in your way and being able to do as you please. Not for us though. Our lives have been nothing but hell. Even the slightest mistake can result in capture and being held hostage by you and your army.”

Damn, it had been forever since someone had called him by his true name. No one in his army even knew his name. He made himself clear that they were to refer to him as The Red Leader. Being called Tord almost hurt. Too many memories.

This was a mistake. He decided that having Edd there only made him feel worse. He wasn’t the same sweet, gentle, caring Edd he used to be. This whole thing was a mistake. Why couldn’t he have just been happy with what he had? All the time they spent together, all those adventures. They were nothing now. He had just taken it all for granted.

He pulled out his knife and walked over to him. Edd laughed. “What, you're going to kill me off as well? I wouldn’t put it past you.” Tord carefully sliced through the rope holding him to the chair. Before he could back up to let him stand, Edd shoved him out of the way, picking up the fallen cola can. “Good bye, old friend.” Opening the can of cola, Edd headed for the door. “Should we meet again, I hope you’re able to put up a better fight.” He slammed the door behind him, once again leaving Red Leader alone in the base.

“I’m sorry. It’s our fault.” Tord was curled up in the corner of the room, quietly sobbing. The two soldiers felt horrible. They thought bringing his beloved friend to him would help, but it only made things worse. Once Red Leader was over his cold, they would most certainly be punished. After a moment of thinking, Paul walked over to him, kneeling down. “Hey,” he smiled at him. “Why don’t we watch a movie? Then you can get some sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

Reluctantly, Tord nodded, getting up from the floor. Perhaps this was the start of a new friendship-

No. This wasn’t the same. And it never would be. Nothing could ever fill the empty space in his heart which had once been occupied by his dear friend. There was no fixing what had been broken.

As he slept that night, he dreamt of himself asleep with his head on Edd’s lap. Even if it was just a dream, it made him happy to be with the real Edd. The Edd that he knew and loved. The Edd that he had broken and destroyed. He would have loved to stay there forever. But all good things must come to an end.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. It’s easiest to just wait it out. Besides, I don’t have to burden you with taking care of me.”

“You’re not a burden to anyone. Never say that about yourself. We’re best friends. We’ll always be there for each other! Now, try and take a nap, alright?”

“sNDDFf!! Ok.”

“Sleep well, Tord.”

END..?

[phoenix-nerd]

So a little bit of a vent, I know I don't post on here often but I didn't know where else to put it. Now from here forward, I'm going to leave a trigger warning for the rest of this text: Disease, Near Death, Starvation, Bleeding, general hospital stuff, health-related issues, talk of death, mortality, etc.

For context, I've been struggling with my health for the past couple of years. I never really brought it up to anyone and I tried avoiding it to the best of my ability. I had no energy and was tired almost all the time. My stomach was in constant pain and I could never figure out why. That was up until a few months ago when I experienced my first flare-up. I started bleeding internally and I couldn't stomach anything. I couldn't eat and I didn't eat for a total of 34 days. I lost around 38 pounds in just a few weeks, I lost my ability to walk more than three feet without collapsing, I was vomiting and excreting blood, I developed a Bartholin's cyst, and so many more symptoms. I couldn't even ride in the car without being in constant pain from the movement. It got to the point that I could feel my body dying. I went to E.R. over 8 times, each time they were never helpful and asked invading questions relating to my past traumas. I even got turned away at the door of the main hospital I was a patient for. It wasn't until the last visit that I was finally hospitalized and sent to a hospital in a different city. They ran several tests on me and for my first week there I was essentially comatose. During my whole stay, I was hooked up to I.V.s and had to get a PICC line put in my arm. I had to get put under and had some very invasive operations done on me which I am not comfortable enough to disclose to anyone. After they disclosed to me that I have Crohn's disease. That's why I didn't have the energy to talk or hang out with anyone, that's why it hurt to eat and hurt to not, that's why certain foods and spices upset my body more than others. They also told me that during a flare-up, I get open sores all over the inside of my digestive system. From my mouth to the end, and because I wasn't hospitalized sooner, one of these sores tore open to another organ. I'm actually going to schedule surgery soon and terrified of it and want it to be over already. They also told me that Crohns has no cure. I relearned how to walk, I had to learn how to stomach solid food again, and I had to regain some weight. I was hospitalized for a little over half a month. I now also have to go in every month to get an I.V. infusion so this hopefully never happens again but it's never certain as flare-ups can be completely random. Crohns is also a disease that can worsen over time so I can't help but worry it'll happen or that my body may reject my treatment. I also discovered that I'm 10x more likely at risk to develop cancer and a mutation of the BRCA gene runs in my family, so while nothing confirmed as that'll all be in the future, it's still a worry for me that I might develop ovarian cancer as my life goes on. All in all, I'm terrified of the future and scared of dying. I don't want to be alone when this happens but I don't want to hurt people if I leave too soon. I know the reality of that might be slimmer in reality than in my head, but I can't help but worry. It also doesn't help that lately my hair's been falling out. I've been distant with people for so long because I wanted them to leave me thinking I was a bad friend than ever forcing them to face the trauma of losing a friend early. I know that one day I will pay the toll to the river Styx (if my family can even remember I'm pagan and to pay my way) and drink from the river Lethe, but I'm scared of Thanatos collecting my soul before I could fully live the life I want. I know I likely won't die of this disease, however, I can't but worry and feel like my world is crashing around me. If you've gotten this far, thank you. I needed to get this out of my system. This will be my first and last post like this. So the rest of my page will be filled with whatever fandom I'm into or whatever fanfic I'm reading. So yeah, more memes instead of depressing stuff like this lmao. 

[lorcan-art]

If you are getting surgery (even minor) here are some things you need to do before and after

Have your recovery area ready. (This means wherever you are going to spend a majority of your time needs to be cleaned, with everything you could need in easy reach. You are going to be in pain and very tired, so the less effort you have to put into small things, the better.)

Bathing area cleaned and with everything in reach. (Depending on your surgery, you might be told to only take showers and to avoid getting incision area wet. It’s best to have that area made easy for you and the person who may be required to aid you. Antibacterial soap is a must. A shower stool is a huge help if you have zero energy or tire easily after surgery. Keep soaps and shampoo in easy reach. No slip mats are recommended. Falling after surgery is a big no no.)

Have your after surgery clothes selection set aside. (The first week or weeks after surgery, you won’t want to do much of anything. And hunting up clothes to wear, even if it’s only pajamas, is a pain. So having ready made outfits that can be grabbed and thrown on is a time saver. We all know the pain of looking for socks and underwear. Have it all ready.)

Have snacks and meals ready. (Unless you have someone to cook for you, it’s best to have ready meals. Something that can be popped into the microwave or oven that needs no prep. And have lots of snacks. You are going to be bored and when bored, you get snacky. So have those treats ready and in reach.)

Have distractions ready. (Depending on the surgery, you might be laid up for a while. So have things to keep you from being bored. Phone and charger are a must. Books. Movies. Anything that can provide a distraction. Have them near by.)

Blankets and pillows. (Nothing is better than being comfortable. Especially when you are sore. So the more the merrier.)

The day of surgery. (Make sure to have comfortable clothes to put on after. Depending on whether or not you have to stay a few days/nights at the hospital, you will be drowsy and a little high. Fighting your way into clothes shouldn’t be any harder than necessary. Comfy clothes that are easy to put on are necessary.)

If you have to stay at the hospital. (If there is any chance of an overnight stay or stays, it’s best to have a overnight bag with all the essentials. Deodorant, toothpaste and toothbrush, hairbrush, etc. No one wants to stay overnight, but it’s best to plan for it just in case. Having a snack bag is also a good idea. Hospitals are expensive, so the less you have to fork out, the better.)

Keep tabs on your pain. (Even if you are not in pain after the surgery, it’s best to take Tylenol at least once a day if prescribed. Because you don’t want to let the pain creep up on you. I wasn’t in pain after, but that didn’t last. And there is no reason to be in pain if you don’t have to be. But don’t overdo it and take too much. While it’s a good idea to keep your pain under control, being overzealous can be dangerous. Never take more than prescribed. If you cannot seem to manage your pain, contact your doctor and consult with them. Unfortunately with the opioid crisis, doctors are uncomfortable prescribing strong pain medication. So you may be sent home with nothing but Tylenol. Even being told you will be in a lot of pain, and that you’ll just have to deal with it. If the pain gets to much, go to the E.R. But do not misuse medication.)

Stay hydrated. (It’s very easy to become dehydrated as your body heals. Most of us do not like drinking water. Or just plain forget to. But water is necessary for recovery. You need to drink. And not just coffee and sodas. Buy electrolyte drinks to help. But water is a must!)

Don’t overdo it. (As you start to recover, you might feel a little froggy. Meaning you will feel like you can do more than you actually can. Try to avoid that. Because wearing yourself out because you thought you were well enough to go back to your regularly scheduled activities sucks. Trust me when I tell you that even though you might feel like you are doing better, you are not. You have been stagnating as you recover. The things you were able to do easily before, are now a struggle. Going on a grocery run, when you have barely been moving, will leave you winded. You have to build yourself back up. So take your time. Push yourself a little more every day. But don’t go all out.)

It’s okay to take your time. (Don’t rush your recovery. You may feel like an invalid with all the naps you will take and all the help you will need. But that’s normal. Enjoy the lazy days while you can. Your body needs it. Don’t feel like you have to be up and at em as soon as possible. And I know some of you are used to go, go going. Making the most of every day. Well, tuff luck. Sit your butt down and recover. Or else you might end up right back at the hospital. But don’t take this to mean that you can just not move at all. You need to move. Be it to the bathroom, to the kitchen, or just around the house. But you do need to move. Little bits at a time. Blood clots are a real danger. Especially after surgery. You need to keep that blood flowing. And it will with every little step you take a day.)

I may have missed a few things. But this is the gist. So good luck, and good healing.

[anxietycreation]

I don't know if my pain and fatigue scales are normal, I certainly know my baseline isn't normal though. Pacing is helping but I still have a tendency to push myself too much. I just can't handle the idea of my life being nothing but work and recovery.

My pain scale

0 - A myth, I haven't experienced this in over a year

1 - I've got pain but it's not bothering me

2 - I've got pain, I'm thinking about it, but I can still do things

3 - My pain is impacting my ability to do activities effectively

4 - I'm cancelling activities due to my pain

5 - Moving hurts, not moving hurts, I won't be leaving the house

6 - I can no longer cater to my basic needs due to pain, I am only capable of lying down and taking myself to the bathroom. If food or water is not provided I won't eat or drink. I can probably listen to an audiobook.

7 - I can't handle light or sound, it feels like someone is hammering a spike into me. I'm lying down in the dark and hoping it goes away/I have a nap.

8 - I am vocalising my pain, even lying in the cold and dark won't help. I am unable to sleep off my pain. I want to be swallowed up by the earth. I'm considering seeking medical attention.

9 - I am seeking immediate medical attention, if I'm not injured then I likely have an acute illness or infection

10 - I think I'm dying. If I don't have a major injury then my doctor is probably yelling at me for not being in a&e already. Never comes without accompanying symptoms

My fatigue scale

0 - I'm energised! I'm doing things and feeling great about it

1 - feeling a little tired, some movement will probably help me feel more energised but won't get me to a zero. Its probably not bothering me.

2 - I've definitely noticed I'm fatigued. I can push through it but it's certainly there.

3 - My fatigue is impacting what I can do. This is my baseline. If I'm not starting here I get here swiftly. If I don't get here immediately after activity I'll feel it a few hours later. I can keep doing low impact activity.

4 - I'm cancelling high energy activities or changing plans to be lower energy. My limbs feel notably heavy and that's making it hard to do anything. The day napping starts here.

5 - That fatigue feeling you get when you have a fever. My limbs are heavy and probably hurt, I'm feeling too hot and moving from my one spot takes a good while of motivating myself to make it feel worth it. Often the starting point of a crash. I can probably chat to people if they're in my immediate vicinity but I'm not going anywhere.

6 - I'm staying at home. I'm cancelling everything to watch videos or listen to audiobooks. Games, reading, and crafts are beyond me. I'll probably sleep more than usual. If I can keep myself to one level of my house I will. I start wishing I had a carer to help me.

7 - I'm probably only getting out of bed to use the bathroom. Audiobook is on, I may or may not sleep, I'm probably scrolling Tumblr. I can still text. If I spend the day like this I might be able to get up in the evening to eat food that is given to me.

8 - I've slept at least half of the day, otherwise as above.

9 - I've slept until past 3pm. This is the worst my fatigue has gotten. Scrolling on my phone is too much. I can truly only lie there. I might push to put an audiobook on if I'm on day 2 of this, typically only lasts a day. If I'm given some water with a bendy straw I can drink but I can't feed myself even if given food. In the moments that I'm awake I'm extremely depressed.

10 - The fatigue level of 9 has lasted multiple days, I'm not getting out of bed to use the bathroom but I probably haven't eaten or drunk anything in a while so that's not an issue. Long stretches of sleep/not moving puts me at risk of pressure ulcers. I'm not certain I could feed myself even if food was given to me.