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rainyfestivalsweets · 8 months

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2/4/24

The MLM hack list

Alright. So there are a bunch of MLM diet companies that make a shitload of money of of us and yet our obesity rates in developed countries are thru the freaking roof.

How many times have you gotten the messages on Facebook, Instagram or whatever and it's like: Hey girl, haven't seen you since high school, let's get coffee... OR... they just post the precopied message & ask about your goals, & proceed to add a flurry of hyperpositive social media messages, like my friend recently did to me.

Did anyone in high school like you? Not me! Do that screams danger from the start. I was horrendously bullied in elementary school. I was gone to a parochial school for a couple years so the only reason that I avoided constant bullying in high school was because... they forgot who I was.

Here are some ideas I stole from various companies, cheaper:

Herbalife: this company's stuff works, for 2 reasons- you replace 2 out of 3 meals with shakes. However, alot of people are not successful if they make their shakes at home and if they add in all the snack bars. People do, however, lose weight if they get their shakes from a "nutrition" shop. Why? Because they blend those shakes super thick with a metric shitton of ice & I think alot of them add sf pudding, which enhances the thickness. Also, you get an iced tea, normally with added fiber. So the answer is- you have 2 drinks that take a long time to finish AND give you added caffeine & fiber. So? Just do it at home: keep your shake calories low, make it extra large & thicker than a snicker, & follow with a caffeinated tea & add fiber to it. I like the herbalife brand but I order it off Amazon so I don't have to get the whole shpeel. Now brand has "prebiotic fiber" that is cheaper. There is also benefiber from Walmart. It is cheap, so why not?

Beachbody: you don't need to spend a billion dollars on protein shakes or meal replacement shakes. I do, however, love some of their workout systems.

Tai Slim: this company's great idea was the chocolate gluccomannon chews, I just didn't know ot at the time. I have tried to order it but have been unable to so maybe they don't make it any more. So my hack would be- the chocolate calcium chews, some gluccomannon tablets, & a large glass of water.

Modere: this company was all over tik tok & reels for awhile, while the reps were trying to schlep people into this scheme. The Golden Child was the liquid CLA chocolate, probably because it tastes like a chocolatey treat while it is actually a CLA supplement. CLA can be purchased at almost any health food store, way cheaper.

Plexus: the pink drink. More research needed on this, but I think it is just a fiber drink. Hack: gluccomannon powder & a Starburst all pink flavor packet.

Most of these companies often sell an associated "fat burner:" often something with caffeine, ecgc from green tea, etc. You can get something similar at a health food store for a fraction of the price. If you want something fancy, there is Ember from the Ambrosia Collective. Use the Google. MFINGCOO is a discount code that I think still works, but it isn't mine.

Buy In for then"tribe:" Weight watchers (not an MLM, just a diet culture sales supergiant but they still somehow acquire affiliates, idk if that qualifies as a True MLM), beachbody, herbalife are pretty cultish in nature-- they rope you into a bunch of meetings, calls, and online groups. If someone calls you to ask why you weren'tat Power Hour, you may have bought into a cult! It works by reprogramming certain thought & behavior patterns..... Basically a bunch of people are sharing ideas regularly and getting involved in their cultish antics.& promoting it on social media. (Example: OMG have you tried the new WW/herbalife/beachbody PROTEIN BAR?? Only $15 for 4!! What a deal! LINK IN MY BIO) You can do this on your own by finding your own people. You can get your own seminars by watching a lot of youtube. Anything that focuses on reprogramming you to cook at home and eat primarily whole foods will probably work. Join free groups. Disregard anything outside of what works for you ( I have to ignore a lot of dessert recipes because they cause bingeing for me).

Lipozene: pretty sure this is just gluccomannon. You can find gluccomannon tablets way cheaper at a health food store. Walmart also was carrying a generic version.

Hydroxycut: pretty sure the active ingredient here is HCA? I don't have a bottle currently to look. But isn't HCA just garcinia? So much cheaper at a health food store. I personally cannot take hydroxycut, it makes me RAGE. I like, get upset and freak out at work, so I don't even think I am willing to try it again.

It works: I think the skinny coffee would be comparable to the "slim coffee," which was cheaper but seemed to be chromium. You can just pick up a chromium supplement... & seriously, you can just drink coffee. Don't add calories to it.

Apple cider vinegar gummies: Just take shots of apple cider vinegar. You can buy a gallon at walmart, it will last a long time. Play with shot recipes, you can do good girl moonshine (ala Trim Healthy Mamma), & use it liberally for dressing recipes.

L-Glutamine: don't remember the company, but this is available at more health food stores, not for $100 a container.

Maybe I have bought so much shit so you don't have it. Is there an MLM company I missed? 🤔 let me know and I will check it out for future posts.

Remember- whatever you do, stay safe. Research your shit. Focus on your daily habits and remember that what you are eating outweighs almost any supplement you could buy. Eat whole food, walk, have an exercise routine & stop expecting a 30 day result for a body that took you 40 years (or whatever) to create.

I definitely don't think the ozempic trend is worth the cost, but if there is no other way for you & you have the money, it is worth a shot. Just don't expect your insurance to pay for it. Many insurance companies are currently not covering it, and I don't really know if they should consider it.

Surgery? If there is no other way and you want to, go for it.

The way that these things work though, is by changing what you are eating. Period. These are all systems to change what you ingest and you can change what you eat for free.

I am still on Nomorbidity & Alkemi from the Ambrosia Collective. I have not found suitable replacements for them but I am also not looking hard, they have a reasonable price point to me.

Edited: To reword, as WW is a diet culture vulture, not quite an MLM. Just a big money making company.

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the-bar-sinister · 2 months

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I saw y'all's coffee post, and I was wondering if you drink tea!

I'm not sure about the rest of my system's tastes when it comes to tea (I'm more often than not the one fronting, especially in the morning) but I really love green tea and matcha as far as caffeine goes. I've had to branch out since finding out that I couldn't drink coffee.

It's hard to find places that do it well where I live, lol. It's usually bitter, spoiled or otherwise nasty. I thought I didn't like it until I tried it from this one spot and it tasted almost like grass? But like. It was very fresh and nice.

I also like a lot of herbal tea, like chamomile or stuff with berries or otherwise flowery teas.

Anyway, forgive my rambling. Cheers! *Sips green tea.*

Hey! :D Yes, we do in fact drink tea-- or at least enough of us do to keep the cupboard stocked with it, LOL! In fact I would say its overflowing. We have at least 3 kinds of black tea, four kinds of green, and a half a dozen herbal teas at least.

Its a shame its so difficult to find where you live. I'd recommend, if you can, ordering tea bags or loose leaf tea online and preparing it at home.

The biggest tea drinkers in the system are 💀🎂, 🔫🦢 and ✨🎀 (and 🔍⚔️ if you count iced tea!)

💀🎂 prefers black teas, and loves english breakfast tea and earl grey tea particularly. They usually drink it with a splash of milk.

🔫🦢 favors green tea heavily but will drink anything.

✨🎀 likes peppermint tea and various kinds of herbal teas. Rose hip is also a favorite.

Our partner system likes to match matcha in the tea ceremony style so we also often have match powder on hand which is very nice.

We usually make tea by heating a kettle to the right temperature (we have a kettle with a thermometer for coffee) and we usually use tea bags, though we sometimes do loose leave tea especially for ✨🎀.

Temperature and steeping time make a huge difference in the flavor of tea, so if you find you're not getting the kind of flavor you want, I recommend playing around with those two factors.

coffee

#ask answers #friend mail #tea #tea lover

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interxstitial · 1 year

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𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽 / 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚂 .

TAGGED BY: @heartxshaped-bruises (thank youuu!) TAGGING: @lugoboi @luneblush (jaeun!) @likescrazy (asami!) @conlvbrisa (heechul!) @daemonry @entityforged (gyeongjae!) @itsacriime (HMMM JORDAN) @fadinglights (anthony!) @fooleds (christian hehe)

★ ⸻ 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘

Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. Muscular thighs. Skinny arms. Soft arms. Muscular arms. Toned stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby Stomach. Soft stomach. Sixpack. Beer belly. Lean frame. Slender frame. Muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame (5 ft 4 or shorter). Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Thick ass. Small waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused feet. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Broad shoulders. Underweight. Average Weight. Overweight.

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

Pale. Fair. Rosy. Peachy. Gold. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth (facial area). Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scarred. Warm tone. Neutral tone. Cool tone. Tans easily. Prone to sunburn.

★ ⸻ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Black. Blue. Red. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned. Deep set.

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑

Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Curly. Frizzy. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Short. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Floor length. Buzz cut. Bald. Jaw length. Mohawk. White. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Ombre. Light brown. Mouse brown. Chestnut brown. Golden brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown. Jet black. Ginger. Auburn. Dyed red. Dyed any “unnatural color”. Streaked. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows.

★ ⸻ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 .

Full sleeve. Thigh tattoo. Shin tattoo. Wrist tattoo. Lower back tattoo. Hand/finger tattoo. Foot tattoo. Neck tattoo. Face tattoo. Back tattoo. Chest tattoo. One tattoo. A few here and there. Multiple. No tattoo. Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s). Genital piercing(s). Industrial piercings. Earlobe piercing. Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing(s). Tongue piercing(s). Lip piercing(s). Tragus piercing. Angel bites. Labret. Stretched out ears. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s). No piercings.

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Lip balm. Lip tint. Red lips. Pink lips. Dark lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow. Blush. Lipliner. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Dewy foundation. Concealer. Wears make up regularly. Wears it from time to time. Never wears make-up.

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

Floral. Fruity. Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturizer. Natural soap. Shampoo. Cigarettes. Leather. Sweat. Food. Incense. Marijuana. Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Blood. Fire. Metal. Rain. Grass. Ocean. Autumn leaves. Baked bread. Freshly baked cookies. Smoke. Campfire. Lavender. Trees. Pumpkin Pie. Musk. Rose. Gingerbread. Peppermint. Oak. Honey. Lemon. Vanilla. Coffee Cake. Mint. Raw hyde.

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒

Jeans. Tight pants. Over-knee socks. Tights. Fishnets. Leggings. Yoga pants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Tight/formfitting dress. Cardigans. Blouse. Button up shirt. Band-T-shirt. Sports-T-shirt. Sweatpants. Tank-top. Cut off t-shirt. Designer. High street. Online stores. Thrift. Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxidress. Sun dress. Tie. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. Highslit dress/skirt. T-shirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jean shorts. Sweater. Sweater vest. Khaki pants. Suit. Hoodie. Harem pants. Basketball shorts. Boxers. Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sports bra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt. Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter. Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Chemise. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Plaid. Black. Dark colors. Neutral colors. Fur. Faux fur.

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stilettos. Bare feet. Loafers.

#games #v: golden.#//HMMMM HM HM HM :EYES:

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lvebug · 11 months

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FASHION / APPEARANCE STATS — TAG GAME

tagged by: @marshthing thx!!! 🫶

tagging: @lampllghter @surferspider @inhcursed @walkeddeath @flynnherbert @thanatologies & YOU!

BODY

Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. Muscular thighs. Skinny arms. Soft arms. Muscular arms. Toned stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby Stomach. Soft stomach. Sixpack. Beer belly. Lean frame. Slender frame. Muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame (5 ft 4 or shorter). Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat ass. Average ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Thick ass. Small waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused feet. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Calloused fingers. Average fingers. Broad shoulders. Underweight. Average Weight. Overweight.

HEIGHT

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

SKIN

Pale. Fair. Rosy. Peachy. Gold. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth (facial area). Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scarred.

EYES

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Dark Brown. Black. Blue. Red. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned. Deep set

HAIR

Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Curly. Frizzy. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Short. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Floor length. Buzz cut. Bald. Jaw length. Mohawk. White. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Ombre. Light brown. Mouse brown. Chestnut brown. Golden brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown.Jet black. Ginger. Auburn. Dyed red. Dyed any “unnatural color”. Streaked. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows.

TATTOOS/PIERCINGS

COSMETICS

Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Red lips. Pink lips. Dark lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow. Blush. Lipliner. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Shiny foundation. Concealer. Wears make up regularly. Wears it from time to time. Never wears make-up.

SCENT

CLOTHES

SHOES

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stilettos. Bare feet. Loafers.

#what if i givr andie a little lip piercing #idk if i hate that or not tho. maube she gets it post bite and if she ends up hating it she takes it out and it just heals over completely #IT CANNOT BE A MISTAKE TO HAVE CARED — headcanons #LOVE IS AT THE CENTER OF IT ALL — dash games

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gccdwitch · 11 months

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𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽 / 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚂 .

TAGGED BY: @fruitpoem (thank you <33)

TAGGING: @imaginc , @likeswallowstosea , @pevertd , @serxndipities , @vvhimsicals (feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like doing it!)

★ ⸻ 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

Pale. Fair. Rosy. Peachy. Gold. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth (facial area). Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scarred. Warm tone. Neutral tone. Cool tone. Tans easily. Prone to sunburn.

★ ⸻ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Black. Blue. Red. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned. Deep set.

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑

★ ⸻ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 .

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stilettos. Bare feet. Loafers.

#the good witch ˚₊‧⁺˖ tag game #quinn ˚₊‧⁺˖ musings #// i WAS going to pick out specific muses but there were too many i'm curious about so djdjkks

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johaerys-writes · 2 years

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Get to know me

I was tagged by @baejax-the-great, thank you so much pal!

Share your wallpaper: My phone background for the past six months or so has been the same Patrochilles art that I'm actually not sure if I should post here without permission from the artist lol. But I can confirm that it's the cutest, most loveliest drawing of them, and Achilles looks so baby in it and I love staring at it every time I open up my phone :')

The last song you listened to: Unbound by Asgeir

Currently Reading: Ten Days That Shook The World by John Reed (don't ask why or how, but my autistic Special Interest of choice for the past 2-3 weeks has been the political intrigue surrounding WWI and how it fuelled the October Revolution so I've been reading any book/watching any documentary I can get my hands on about it), and I've also been listening to The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath while doing chores and stuff

Last Movie: Everything Everywhere All at Once with @baejax-the-great

Craving: Travel :|

What are you wearing right now: My fluffiest house robe and my fluffy slippers and super comfy and soft socks, and yes I'm still in pyjamas

How tall are you: 167 cm, no idea how that translates in feet and inches lol don't make me google it

Piercings: I have one piercing in each ear, I've often thought about getting more but needles be scary

Tattoos: 6, and planning to finish my half sleeve by the end of the year

Glasses? Contacts?: Glasses, and I do sometimes wear contacts as well

Last drink: I am currently drinking some lukewarm coffee with oat milk :3

Last show: In the past couple years I've become so bad with starting shows and actually sticking with them lol, but I did do a rewatch of Neon Genesis Evangelion fairly recently..... OH and I watched Interview with the Vampire with @baejax-the-great a little while back which was super fun!! (because apparently I can't watch something unless I can shit talk or go feral over it with Bae LOL)

Last thing you ate: Toast with peanut butter and an apple

Favourite colour: Oooh that's such a hard question to answer!! The first colour that comes to mind is blue -- I always gravitate towards some version of blue, and currently it's deep navy blue, but I also own a lot of powder blue stuff. It's either that or baby pink or cream tbh, but I also own a good amount of gold/mustard things as well. Yellow makes me happy. I find jewel green incredibly pretty though I weirdly don't own anything of that colour (which reminds me I should perhaps make that a priority)

Current obsession: I'm guessing this is a fandom related question, so I'm going to be predictable and say that I'm, as usual, obsessed with Patrochilles and most of the other pairings I am currently writing, even though anxiety over real life stuff hasn't let me engage with them as much as I want lately. I do think about them a lot and have lots of ideas for new stories, and I'm also working my way back into catching up with fics I love, which I haven't been able to do in a while despite the joy it normally gives me. Brains can be very uncooperative at times, but what can you do about it lol.

Unrelated Obsession: As I mentioned earlier I have been obsessed with Russian and generally European politics of the early 20th century for some weird ass reason lmao, but I've also been reading an in-depth analysis of Aeschylus' life and work I found in some corner of my library, which led me to looking up some academic papers about it, which led me to signing up for an online course about Athenian tragedy, so um?? I don't know what it is with me and going down those endless rabbit holes lately ahah.

Any pets: I have a cat, aka a baby and a bastard and a devil spawn all wrapped in one (he is currently sleeping like an angel after attempting to tear down the curtains)

Do you have a crush on anyone: Um. Like, on a real life person? A fictional person? I do have crushes on several of my mutuals so if y'all are reading it I'm kissing you on the forehead MWAH

Favourite fictional character: I can't choose, don't make me choose!!!!!!! I can't choose between my children. But if I had to choose then maybe.... Patroclus? But also, Achilles? But also, my OC Tristan Trevelyan and Dorian Pavus from DA? But also Shiro and Keith from VLD? But also -- SEE, IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO CHOOSE

The last place you traveled: It feels like it's been SO long since I've traveled anywhere. I went to Aegina island last summer but since then I haven't been outside the city for even a DAY and it's been driving me crazy. I just need to see some green and blue and listen to nothing but birds or waves or the wind (at this point I'll even take the rooster that woke me up EVERY DAMN MORNING when I was in Aegina lmao). I'm planning on going on a day trip to Mycenae soon though so I'm very excited about that 😄

Tagging forth to @in-arlathan, @mogwaei, @tessa1972, @aymayzing, @inquisitoracorn, @tevivinter, @elveny, @pikapeppa, @petrowriting @peggy-sue-reads-a-book @juliafied, @vimlos, @gloriesunsung, @figsandphiltatos, @gwensparlour, @glimmerofgold, @sabino-sea, and so many more of my mutuals that I'm actually too shy to tag here. But seriously if you're reading this and it looks fun please do it and tag me, I'm nosy and I want to know everything about you LOL

#get to know me #tag meme #jo rambles

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itsjeonjk · 5 months

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𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽 / 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚂 .

TAGGED BY: no one, i stole it 🤭 TAGGING: whoever else would like to do it <3 italic - means sometimes / sort of / kinda depending on the context!

★ ⸻ 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘

Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. Muscular thighs. Skinny arms. Soft arms. Muscular arms. Toned stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby Stomach. Soft stomach. Six Eight pack. Beer belly. Lean frame. Slender frame. Muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame (5 ft 4 or shorter). Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Thick ass. Small waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused feet. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Broad shoulders. Underweight. Average Weight. Overweight.

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍 | italic: kind of

Pale. Fair. Rosy. Peachy. Gold. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth (facial area). Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scarred. Warm tone. Neutral tone. Cool tone. Tans easily. Prone to sunburn.

★ ⸻ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 | italic: sometimes

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Black. Blue. Red. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned. Deep set.

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 | italic: has had

★ ⸻ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | italic: has had

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 | italic: sometimes

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 | italic: sometimes

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒 | italic: has worn

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stilettos. Bare feet. Loafers.

#⌕ ┊ headcanons ｡

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faiirytopias · 1 year

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𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽 / 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚂 .

TAGGED BY: @interxstitial (thank you!) TAGGING: @strongxsurvivors (luke), @mccnxhild (clementine), @risingmccns (sally), @atrickrtreat (andi), @rennisaturate (samantha), @sinfulhymns (wonpil), @fullofhcart (snow), @honeyedsapphics (twyla), @ofbookshelves. no pressure ofc.

★ ⸻ 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

Pale. Fair. Rosy. Peachy. Gold. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth (facial area). Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scarred. Warm tone. Neutral tone. Cool tone. Tans easily. Prone to sunburn.

★ ⸻ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Black. Blue. Red. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned. Deep set.

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑

★ ⸻ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 .

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stilettos. Bare feet. Loafers.

#isms. pang heechul.#this was so fun. <3

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iisoldmysoulxx · 1 year

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𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽 / 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚂 .

★ ⸻ 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

Pale. Fair. Rosy. Peachy. Gold. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth (facial area). Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scarred.

★ ⸻ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 . (he's almost entirely blind on one and it is milky )

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Black. Blue. Red. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned. Deep set.

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑

★ ⸻ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 .

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐄��𝐈𝐂𝐒

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒

Jeans. Tight pants. Over-knee socks. Tights. Fishnets. Leggings. Yoga pants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Tight/formfitting dress. Cardigans. Blouse. Button up shirt. Band-T-shirt. Sports-T-shirt. Sweatpants. Tank-top. Cut off t-shirt. Designer. High street. Online stores. Thrift. Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxidress. Sun dress. Tie. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. Highslit dress/skirt. T-shirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jean shorts. Sweater. Sweater vest. Khaki pants. Suit. Hoodie. Harem pants. Basketball shorts. Boxers. Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sports bra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt. Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter.Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Chemise. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Plaid. Black. Dark colors. Fur. Faux fur.

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stilettos. Bare feet. Loafers.

tagged by: @heartxshaped-bruises <3 ! tagging: @poetryofcorpses @romaniawolf @ofwondersandhares @elenaloveablekotsala @fantasycorrupted @monsterxlayer @rumancekwitch @shotgunshellsandfeathers @quitemagical @wingsxnlead @loyaltybroken @legeandary @hegrowth @guiltye and you! <3

#thank you for tagging me.#:)#tbt.#larkin.

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haalfpipe · 6 months

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Well-developed, well-nourished white male in no acute distress.

This is what she writes about me. Look, as your sponsor, I need you to write this down. All of it. Word for word. Don’t try to make sense of anything I say, just write. When you’re confused, keep writing. Tired, keep writing. Cravings, for God’s sake just keep writing. Because if it works for you, it might work for somebody else.

Now go back to that note.

She’s my primary care physician, the woman who's seen me since I outgrew a pediatrician. She sits there with her legs folded together in knobs and branches poking through bright blue doctor fabric, and a suspicious thickness around her belly. She's the same as any other anorexic physician who eats only something with oats she poured from a blender.

Write this down—this is how you should be eating.

If she’s your doctor, you don’t feel better after reading her notes. That's if you remember to find them in her office’s digital patient portal, where after every visit they’re posted on the other side of a forgotten login and a compromised password.

Write this down—read about yourself.

It will be midnight, lying in your bed with your phone glowing at your chest. Picture an otter on its back. Swiping through, passing content from one thumb to another like the screen is a stack of cash, except you're counting fifteen second clips of billionaire porn. Supercars. Island waterfalls. French-press coffee on private jets. Squats and deadlifts and protein powders beaming into your eyes from a girl with perfect pores and skin vacuum-sealed against her clavicle.

Every fifth swipe is an ad.

A reminder.

Refrigerated ship-to-home ingredients—remember to pack lunch.

Swipe up.

High-yield online savings—pay your credit card bill.

Swipe up.

Cable-knit sweaters on some Macedonian model—do laundry.

Swipe up.

Machine-surfaced cast iron—run the dishwasher.

Swipe up.

Anymore, this is why you read the portmanteau digitox. Pause your social media for a week, the usual prescription. Put down your phone and try to work on impulse control just to discover you haven’t eaten anything green, and you’re still in the same clothes with an overdue balance on your credit card.

Your grade school teachers tried to teach you the habit of using a spiral-bound calendar. Now all you need is phone streaming a river of social media as you fall asleep.

Swipe up.

Lying here in the dark and your life support is a lithium battery glued to a glowing rectangle.

Swipe up.

Grounding your bare feet in water without sunscreen on a hot day in the mountains—schedule your booster shot.

Swipe.

Wet coffee grounds into cute countertop compost bins—it’s Monday. The trash should be at the curb.

Swipe.

Robot vacuums for pile carpet—clean your floors. And when you see it, remember that your shitty old vacuum has a filter bag with a lifespan.

Swipe up. Swipe right.

Until you’re unconscious.

Wake up and your phone is down on the carpet, smeared with oily fingerprints in the shape of a cross.

Swipe.

This is content that wakes you up.

Swipe.

Content that keeps you alive.

Swipe.

You’ll watch the same shit again tomorrow.

Swipe.

Another night and your thumbs make streaks right and downward until you watch an ad for a metabolism diet that reminds you of poor appetite reminds you of weight loss reminds you of a balance scale and a stainless sink with a floor pedal. The gaunt doctor’s notes and your decade of symptoms are on the other side of a login somewhere behind all these crucifix-shaped smears.

Swipe.

Reading about yourself and why you aren’t going to die gets you through a few days. But you feel like the way she sits there with all her machines and her complete sentences perfectly typed into a keyboard are missing something. The way you might miss your own addiction. Like I did. I didn't know I was an addict until after my first meeting.

Write this down—find a meeting.

In recovery, you wake up to your phone but the real-life support is downstairs on the fridge: a full calendar, a dry erase board with dented corners you can grab when you're in the kitchen section of a savings store. It comes with battle scars just as much as you’d expect from colliding with errant wheels, the magnetic corners trying to grab onto every shopping cart that comes too close. Underpaid employees tire of wedging it back onto a shelf because for shoppers a blank calendar is too much commitment even at a discount, and it's too big and boring and cheap to steal. Not that anyone would care. It’s five rows, seven columns, a sequence of days that never change tattooed in cute cursive across the top.

In recovery, you see a blank calendar and it just means you haven't yet been told what to do. You put it on your fridge. Let it observe every moment of the day, every time you leave the house, or empty the trash, the dishwasher, like somehow it will learn your entire week, until you're awake the next morning and surprise, it's still blank. At midnight when you open the thick, insulated door and the cold light rips out into the dark kitchen, it's there, caught in the beam. It might as well be found in a searchlight, flattened against the side of some dumpster, hiding from its destiny: thirty-five squares of graffiti in vibrant dry-erase marker, instructions squeezed wherever they fit.

Eventually you’re just some kid who can't color inside the lines, smearing it with bright letters, thick from bent tips of markers always dropping and rolling under the refrigerator. When it’s finally numbered, you’ll need a quote-a-day paper pad showing the date in tall digits leaning off the page at you when you open the refrigerator for milk. This way every morning you have to interact with the calendar. Tear off the old sheet of digits for another and find the square it matches.

It says, twenty-two.

A new day.

A new set of instructions.

A new inspiration to forget.

Today’s italicized quotation will stick because this is Monday.

It says, chance favors the prepared mind. The corner of the date pad says Louis Pasteur. The reason you don’t get sick from the milk.

Before it was clung onto our kitchen monolith, my calendar began on my phone as a progress tracker. If you’re burdened with the twelve step curse of recovery, the meetings and your therapy will refer to this as a habit tracker. It’s how you’re supposed to visualize an accumulation of effort. How you’re supposed to feel normal when you look backward. Everyday is another responsibility you were never taught, but on Sunday at least you washed the bedding. You never see how much goes into a normal life until you’re doing none of it. Somebody has to tell you that you’re living in trash and the blanket over your laundry smells so much like air freshener it stinks.

Somebody has to tell you to get out of bed.

Buy a new toothbrush.

Open the windows.

Go to the interview.

Eat.

Put down your phone.

That today is your mother’s birthday.

Somebody has to save you. And then you owe her your life. You get married.

Swipe to thirteen years later, and recovery doesn’t matter. Try telling someone you just met that you've been clean for thirteen years. Nobody cares. Picture showing up to defend a decade-long dissertation of research to have your advisor say thanks, it no longer counts toward your grade. You can dry-clean your academic attire, like everyone else. She tosses it onto a stack of papers sunk into her carpet with its own footprint, a white pillar, the size of a trash can. Still, you want her to least read it. You want anybody to read it.

If you’re like me, what you want is somebody to start a pot of coffee after dinner and stare at you across the kitchen table while it gets hot. You want somebody to talk with all night until the sun comes back.

If you’re like me, you don’t stop talking. Somebody finally sits down and drops a nickel at your booth and they have to let the song play.

This is the jukebox full of fresh vinyl.

I didn't want to have to tell you any of this. Nobody else needs to know anything here.

This is the note accidentally left unlocked.

This is the essay that ends up shredded in the back of a mobile secure destruction truck.

This is the long form note written in couples' therapy to wrinkle up for a waste basket, never to be read.

This is the confession after the crime found scribbled in a notebook when all the neighbors say they never saw it coming. If they did, then there wouldn't be a vacant house ribboned with yellow tape and an overgrown lawn to explain to all the divorced pickleball women when they come over for cocktails.

What I'm trying to say is none of this matters anymore.

I haven’t done anything wrong. There hasn’t been a crime. I don’t have the time. There’s no space for it on my calendar. After work I’m showering and brushing my clothes with horsehair so the hard water doesn’t fade the blacks to grey on waistbands and seams. Then I’m reaching into the fridge and cooking dinner and the dry erase marker says I’m exchanging table decorations for the new season, spring. Outside in the dark I’ll use a flashlight and leaf blower to clear fallen seed pods out of potted plants. The kitchen drawer will be out of dish towels and it’ll be one in the morning before those will be ironed and folded.

Write this down—never landscape with sycamores.

If you’re like me, you’re too tired to do anything wrong.

It’s because I’ve been on step twelve for so long. That's how they pull you in, with their logos and websites and filtered headshots of mentors and their about-us sections, seining through the candidate swamp of deadbeats as wide as freeways across the city. The dozen secrets to success that can be yours if you act now, no signature required.

A fresh start. Anonymous.

You can learn all the reasons addiction is ruining your life and how much better you’ll be in recovery. By step one you’ll sleep better, they tell you. By step six you’ll be giving presentations at work, they tell you. What they don’t tell you is by step twelve you should be growing the pyramid. Sponsor the kid who bags your groceries. In recovery, his bagging will be a little sloppier. Eggs on the bottom, untrimmed carrot tops flowering like pampas grass from sacks of wrinkled paper. For eight hours of bagging, his eyes follow the backs of his hands. He never looks up. Because in recovery he feels like shit.

What they don’t tell you about recovery is a lot.

What they don't tell you is that after step twelve, there's nothing. It’s just more step twelve. More meetings. More relapses. Until you’re dead. After I turn out to be your sponsor, then after years of me and a therapist telling you what to do, one day you find yourself at the curb outside a meeting like they just signed you out of the hospital and stuck you in a wheelchair on the sidewalk.

Hospitals have to get rid of you.

It's for liability.

You're discharged, but until they get you to the curb, they're on the hook for your life. The administrators don’t care about a junkie until they need his bed for the next admission from a crowded emergency lobby. For a few days your entire world is one hundred square feet between four walls with a sealed window and a mechanical bedframe. You have your own bathroom. There’s a whiteboard showing names of physicians you never see. It’s a different sort of dry erase calendar with notes in three sections: Today. Tomorrow. Future.

In recovery, planning ahead feels like predicting the future.

To fix you, people in scrubs who aren’t nurses bring trays with pills in little cups of wax paper, made for ketchup. Every pill is constipating. That, and the immobility of lying in bed until your back aches. This is why there are wall stud-mounted steel handles around the toilet. You get microwaved meals, and hourly visits from exhausted nurses wearing too much concealer smeared over their bad skin.

You like it inside the sterile room, baseboards to ceiling in taupe, and a floor drain in the bathroom. You wish you could stay. But this is what real care feels like—being discarded, thrown back out onto the street.

Anymore, your friends are all stoned, you say this to the nice nurse that you want coming with you. To bring you little stacks of cups at home. She uses your face to unlock your phone and dials an emergency contact. She props you in a wheelchair still wrinkled in the seat from her last castaway. She starts pushing. What you don't know is that after twelve hours of babysitting a floor of invalids and texting her ex in the supply closet, she'll collapse at her apartment with shitty alcohol, neglect her kid, rub one out and fall asleep with the television. Her own pile of laundry stinks of air freshener. And after a week with that botched fantasy you'll want her pushing you out again, faster, you’ll kick your legs straight out when you see the double doors beneath the exit sign. You’re thinking all this and then the wheelchair's at the street, she sets the brakes, puts a hand on your back and bolts you upright. Right beside the trash bins.

Swipe to this blithering milksop balancing on the curb waiting for my emergency contact to show up with a fast food bag of burgers because that’s exactly how this whole thing happened.

Write this down—fast food is what started this.

I'll get to the beginning. What ended up being the beginning.

There's one thing the alcoholics, junkies, and sex addicts in recovery won't tell you in their propaganda. I hate to ruin the surprise: walk into a meeting, and this is the rest of your boring ass life that nobody will ever care about. It says it right there in the branding. Anonymous. There’s no background check. Nobody asks to see track marks, or a collapsed septum. All you have to do is show up and give a name. Every week it isn’t any different. It’s a United Methodist rec room that hosted a day camp of kids with sticky fingers making crafts before organizers got there at sunset to unfold a card table and plug in a coffee percolator, a big trophy passed between support groups. Except instead of a bright Stanley Cup this is a storm-tossed aluminum bombshell that means your quiet gathering of church sponsorship has made it. Men's groups. Yard sales. Slow-read Bible study. Blood drives. Tonight it's with a room full of enablers. Because at some point they all relapse. That's why they keep coming back. Two dozen strangers who all share the same passion means the best networking opportunity junkies can get.

Swipe to a room full of cravings triggered by one of these caffeine dispensers looking like it was pulled from the basement of some parish.

Write this down—you’ll have meetings on Tuesdays. No matter what. This is what they call them.

No matter what, you make time for it.

No matter what, you attend.

No matter what, someone from last week is missing.

For me, recovery is never more than arms' length away. Even now, on my nightstand, where instead of an orange bottle of pills with a label showing the name of a hospice patient I'll never meet, there's a wallet as thick as an Uno deck and right next to it is a small leather journal with a checklist of everything I have to do not to sink. A calendar of instructions to-go. It's the same journal I've used since step four.

At first, the steps feel good. After your first meeting you might as well be twelve years old, and wide awake the night before a vacation. You’re going somewhere new. For a few days you walk upright with great posture. See yourself in the mirror of a department store where you’re trying on new shirts and you realize you have shoulders. It's a proud moment when you can check step one off your list. The first three go pretty fast and then you get stuck on step four. The moral inventory. All the lies, betrayals, and cheating, all the people you've hurt and jobs you've lost. You have to open a note on your phone and start typing. A rap sheet of all your sins, synced with cloud storage. That way every dumbass moment of your life is right there beneath your passcode.

I'm always writing things down. Journaling. Calendaring. Staying clean means keeping busy, having something to look forward to, always wanting to see tomorrow. It's when tomorrow doesn't matter that you give in. Find your local NA schedule and poke your head through the wrong door at the community center for that room full of liars calling itself a No-Matter-What meeting and tell me if it looks like any of them care about tomorrow.

Before relapse, most of them get lost in responsibility piling up at home. Picture Sisyphus. There's no reward for your work. When you stop feeling perfect for zero effort—that's addiction—daily routines are labor. In recovery, suddenly it all matters. Nobody wants another day of it. So you offload it from your brain, suspend your decision-making ability. Turn yourself into an implement. If you don't have to remember what to do next, then while you're at the sink soaking the sweat stains out of your new shirts, you're free to daydream about eventually sleeping in again. Because there's always more.

There's the alarm clock to wake you.

There's a duvet to fold.

There's clothing to launder.

There are dishes to wash.

Carpets to vacuum.

Now go back to your thirty-five squares and start writing—

Blow the leaves.

Put gas in the car.

Pack a lunch box.

Buy groceries.

Pay the utilities.

Today it's all on the calendar and the dry erase bleeds together in a way your brain can't decipher. No square is big enough. Cram all this in between five, eight-hour minimum wage workdays crutched by black coffee and chewing gum and next time you're washing shirts you'll daydream about not waking up.

After enough of step twelve, addicts in recovery suffer an increased chance of relapse, a brief glimpse at being high and productive. The meetings will call this functional addiction, the sustained twilight before once again losing your footing, being fired, and going broke. Keep going to meetings, and therapy, and tell yourself to keep trying but eventually everyone gives up running to the sunset, the sinking reminder that you can do everything right and still fail. You need structure. Somebody has to tell you what to do. There's a blank calendar to fill.

Swipe to when you bring home the dented thing, still wearing its torn shrink-wrap. At first, you won’t unwrap it. Thinking two weeks out might as well be next year. Nobody can see that far ahead. You put these thirty-five blank squares on the fridge and walk away. You’ll start writing tomorrow. Today, grab a sheet of paper and fold a single crease, forming two pages that will tell you what to do. Make a checklist for right now. After a week, replace this with a notebook so you can flip back to yesterday’s completed list, then another one from seven pages ago, or sixty pages ago.

Like everything else, at first a list makes you feel good. You write down everything you have to do and draw a little empty square next to it where you can scratch a check mark. What the meetings and therapy won’t call this is the Dunning-Kruger effect. We won’t tell you to overestimate your own success as you check off all the to-dos for which nobody else needs reminders.

We won’t tell you, but this is what happens. With every box, give yourself a gold star.

Write this down.

Brush your teeth—check.

Make coffee—check.

Turn off the coffee pot—check.

Remember your wallet—check.

Close the garage door—check.

Finally, you're getting somewhere. Every day, it's the same list, telling you what to do. The same set of successes. Because before, you were barely able to find the door out of the house in the morning.

By the end, every box is inked and you get to see just how much filled your day. Everything in your life becomes an item on a list. A direction. Something to achieve. You get to see the set of instructions for your life.

Everything becomes a step. One step closer to the completed pages of your boring life and knowing that tomorrow you have to start at the top of the same stupid blank page with a new list. Then another the next day. Then next week. And the month after that. Until you're dead.

Like normal people.

It's been a long time since you felt normal.

Everyday you're charging upright into a rough surf of surprises heaving themselves against you. Look back at your little piece of paper. It'll tell you where to go next. Plan out every minute from the moment you make coffee in the morning until you’re home and you step into the garage after a shower to grab the electric leaf blower and surprise, it’s dead.

Write this down—plug in leaf blower.

It needs to be cabled to a heavy charger that gets hot and smells like ozone. The one-hour charge is just enough time for the clocks in your house to be suddenly louder. The carpet is more matted than it was yesterday. In the walls, all the plumbing squeaks with hard water and suddenly it’s caked inside the mesh aerators of every faucet.

Write this down—polish the hardwood.

Electric mop the high-traffic carpets.

Soak the stainless faucets in vinegar.

From the size of my list, our house looks like Xanadu.

Find another achievement. Check another box. Until one day in the middle of it all you're on a ladder in your bedroom replacing a smoke alarm with a ten-year battery and you realize you'll be up on this ladder maybe five more times before you're dead.

One day when you’re off work you get back to the calendar and pair it with the date pad of quotes. It feels smooth, the unused dry-erase surface. To make progress, you have to fill it. Thirty-five blank squares.

For monthly maintenance, pick a square.

For laundry, pick five squares.

Bedding, pick two squares.

Clean the oven.

Then the bathrooms.

Vacuum.

After a few months the neat printing is full of abbreviated instructions, and you can't see any outlines between the white blocks. Each day dissolves into the next. In the morning you see it when you get to the fridge for milk and tear open the next quotation.

Louis Pasteur’s quotation.

What I’m prepared for is running out of ink, and dry erase markers.

What I’m trying to say is—let’s hope this works. Recovery is what got me into this whole mess. Recovery, and McDonald's.

#fiction #short story #writing #writeblr #addiction #alcoholism #addiction recovery #drugs

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scftlightz · 11 months

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𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽 / 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚂 .

TAGGED BY: @gccdwitch (ty hon!♡)

TAGGING: @vvhimsicals , @diviinc , @daringsunflowers (feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like doing it!)

★ ⸻ 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

Pale. Fair. Rosy. Peachy. Gold. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth (facial area). Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scarred. Warm tone. Neutral tone. Cool tone. Tans easily. Prone to sunburn.

★ ⸻ 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Black. Blue. Red. Green. Gold. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned. Deep set.

★ ⸻ 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑

★ ⸻ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 .

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

★ ⸻ 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒

★ ⸻ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stilettos. Bare feet. Loafers.

#❝ — so i just danced ! ❞┊raleigh #❝ — or one of the seven stars ! ❞┊info & headcanons #* this was fun ngl

4 notes · View notes

ciaossu-imagines · 7 months

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So, for the aesthetics day of the event, I used one of the prompts for Dr. Theo from Gangsta.! I hope you all enjoy!

The body is just a shell to the soul / aesthetics .

body.

Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. muscular thighs. Skinny arms. Soft arms. Muscular arms. Toned stomach. Flat stomach.Flabby Stomach. Soft stomach. Six pack. Beer belly. Lean frame. Slender frame. Muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame. Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails. Flat butt. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Thick butt. Small waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused feet.Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Broad shoulders. Underweight. Average Weight. Overweight.

height.

Shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

skin.

Pale. Fair. Rosy. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth. Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled. Scarred.

eyes.

Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Black. Blue. Red. Green. Gold Amber(close enough to orange). Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned.

hair.

Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Scruffy. Frizzy. Curly. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Short. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Floor length. Buzz cut. Bald. Jaw length. Vermilion. Mohawk. White. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Ombre. Light brown. Mouse brown. Chestnut brown. Golden brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown. Jet black. Ginger. Auburn. Dyed red. Dyed any “unnatural color”. Streaked. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows.

tattoos / piercings.

Full sleeve. Thigh tattoo. Shin tattoo. Forearm tattoo. Upper arm tattoo. Wrist tattoo. Lower back tattoo. Upper back tattoo. Shoulder blade tattoo. Hand/finger tattoo. Foot tattoo. Neck tattoo. Face tattoo. Chest tattoo. One tattoo. A few here and there. Multiple. No tattoo. Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s).Genital piercing(s). Industrial piercings. Earlobe piercing. Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing(s). Tongue piercing. Lip piercing(s). Tragus piercing. Angel bites. Labret. Stretches out ears. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s). No piercings.

cosmetics.

scent.

Floral. Fruity. Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturizer. Natural soap.Shampoo. Cigarettes. Leather. Sweat. Food. Incense. Marijuana. Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Blood. Fire. Metal. Rain. Grass. Ocean. Autumn leaves. Baked bread. Freshly baked cookies.Smoke. Campfire. Lavender. Trees. Pumpkin Pie. Musk. Rose. Gingerbread. Peppermint. Oak. Honey. Lemon. Vanilla. Coconut. Sage. Coffee Cake. Mint. Raw hyde. Chemicals.

clothes.

Jeans. Tight pants. Overknee socks. Tights. Leggings. Yoga pants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt.Loose skirt. Tight/formfitting dress. Cardigans. Blouse. Button up shirt. Band-T-shirt. Sports-T-shirt. Sweatpants. Tanktop. Cut off t-shirt. Designer. High street. Online stores.Thrift. Lingerie. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxidress. Sun dress. Tie. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. Highslit dress/skirt. T-shirt. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Jean shorts.Sweater. Sweater vest. Khaki pants. Suit. Hoodie. Harem pants. Basketball shorts.Boxers. Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Bra. Sports bra. Crop top. Corset. Ballerina skirt.Leotard. Polka dot. Stripes. Glitter.Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Chemise. Patterns. Florals. Neon colors. Pastels. Plaid. Black. Dark colors. Fur. Faux fur.

shoes.

Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High heels. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Stripper heels. Bare feet. Loafers.

#unrequested prompts #aesthetics #character aesthetics #dr. theo #dr theo #gangsta.#gangsta

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waitimcomingtoo · 2 years

Note

Hi, I saw a lot of people having problems with their period, so I wanted to drop some things that help me when I have cramps or just what I do when I'm on my period (I'm not a doc btw).

I usually avoid food with a lot of salt (so all junk food basically), processed foods, alcohol, and coffee. I drink a lot of water (room temperature or warm, not hot), green tea, herbal tea (we have one in my country that is called 'tea for women', and it's basically for cramping muscle relief), and sometimes hot chocolate, because it helps your body to relieve the muscle cramps and can help with bloating too. Magnesium helps with muscle cramps as well, so that might help too.

If you have cravings, eat them with your regular foods. Your body needs more energy, so if you're craving something, you can treat yourself. Balance is key <3

I often have bad cramps when I'm stressed, so you can try to do some yoga, breathing exercises, get fresh air, mindfulness or smell some lavender. I also sleep more, so I usually go sleep an hour earlier. I heard that it can help to sleep with a pillow (please use some small ones, I have quite big pillows) between your knees to lower the pressure. If it would make you uncomfortable though, you don't have to!

You can use a heating pad, if you don't have one, just find some clean old sock, put around a cup of rice in it, tie it up, and put it for around 30 seconds to a minute to microwave. It should be warm, but not hot. (You can find a bunch of tutorials online.) If your back hurts, you can put it on your lower back. Sometimes I also sleep with my socks on, I feel like it helps me to keep warm and lower the stomach cramps.

During a shower, I like to turn up the water temperature a bit if I have cramps. I thought of it once, and it helps.

My skin tends to break out around my period, so I do clay face mask. I leave it on for a minute or two. If you have clay in powder, it's important to not make it too thick (it should have toothpaste or creamy yogurt consistency) and not let it dry on your face. You can mix the clay with water, rose water/toner/mist, or oil you use on your face. (Do a patch test first though!)

If you'd like to, you can watch these videos: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJPU6T87JtI (AlexandrasGirlyTalk - Period Hacks Every Girl Needs To Know) - she has amazing videos about style and beauty as well

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=33YlDs9UPiU&list=PLdyZ5CwGaxYkxRvGMdoOIX-vl1Z9mcut5 (Nicoletta xo - Period Videos playlist) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BR8DagwHeV4 (Nicoletta xo - Period Hacks Every Girl Should Know) - these period hacks are amazing and actually helpful

I hope at least some of these things help! <3

Thank you love ❤️💎

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rhoshamandes · 10 months

Text

ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ.

Bold what applies. Italicise what somewhat or sometimes applies

BODY / long legs. short legs. average legs. slender thighs. thick thighs. somewhat muscular thighs. skinny arms. soft arms. toned arms. muscular arms. toned stomach. flat stomach. flabby stomach. soft stomach. six pack. beer belly. lean frame. slender frame. muscular frame. voluptuous frame. petite frame. lanky frame. short nails. average-length nails. long nails, manicured nails. painted nails. dirty nails. small waist. thick waist. narrow hips. average hips. wide hips. big feet. average feet. small feet. soft feet. slender feet. calloused feet. calloused hands. soft hands. big hands. average hands. small hands. long fingers. short fingers. average fingers. broad shoulders. underweight. average weight. overweight.

HEIGHT / shorter than 140 cm. 141 cm to 150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180cm. 183 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2m. Taller than 2 m.

SKIN / pale. fair. rosy. olive. dark. tanned. brown. blotchy. smooth. acne. dry. greasy. freckled. scarred.

EYES / small. large. average. grey. brown. black. blue. red. green. gold amber. hazel. violet. doe-eyed. almond. close-set. wide-set. squinty. monolid. heavy eyelids. upturned. down turned.

HAIR / thin. thick. fine. normal. greasy. dry. soft. shiny. scruffy. frizzy. curly. wild. unruly. straight. smooth. wavy. floppy. cropped. pixie-cut. short. shoulder length. back length. waist length. floor length. buzz cut. bald. jaw length. vermilion. mohawk. white. platinum blonde. golden blonde. dirty blonde. ombre. light brown. mouse brown. chestnut brown. golden brown. chocolate brown. dark brown. jet black. ginger. auburn. dyed red. dyed any “ unnatural color ”. streaked. thin eyebrows. average eyebrows. thick eyebrows.

TATTOOS & PIERCINGS / full sleeve. quarter sleeve. thigh tattoo. shin tattoo. wrist tattoo. lower back tattoo. hand / finger tattoo. foot tattoo. neck tattoo. face tattoo. chest tattoo. one tattoo. a few here and there. multiple. no tattoo. monroe piercing. nose piercing. septum. nipple piercing(s). genital piercing(s). industrial piercings. earlobe piercing. helix piercing(s). prince albert piercing. eyebrow piercing(s). tongue piercing. lip piercing(s). tragus piercing. angel bites. labret. stretches out ears. navel piercing. inverse navel piercing. cheek piercing(s). smiley. nape piercing(s). no piercings.

COSMETICS / light eyeliner. heavy eyeliner. cat eyes. mascara. fake eyelashes. matte lipstick. regular lipstick. lip gloss. lip balm. red lips. pink lips. dark lips. bronzer. highlighter. eye shadow. neutral eye shadow. smoky eyes. colorful eye shadow. blush. lip liner. light contouring. heavy contouring. powder. matte foundation. shiny foundation. concealer. wears make up regularly. wears makeup from time to time

SCENT / floral. fruity. perfumes. aftershave. cocoa. moisturizer. natural soap. shampoo. cigarettes. leather. sweat. food. incense. marijuana. cologne. whiskey. wine. fried food. blood. fire. metal. rain. grass. ocean. autumn leaves. baked bread. freshly baked cookies. smoke. campfire. lavender. trees. pumpkin pie. musk. rose. gingerbread. peppermint. oak. honey. lemon. vanilla. coffee cake. mint. rawhide. chemicals.

CLOTHES / jeans. tight pants. over knee socks. tights. yoga pants. pencil skirt. tight skirt. loose skirt. tight / formfitting dress. cardigans. blouse. button up shirt. band t-shirt. sports t-shirt. sweatpants. tank top. cut off t-shirt. designer. high street. online stores. thrift. lingerie. long skirt. miniskirt. maxi dress. sun dress. tie. tuxedo. slacks. cocktail dress. high slit dress / skirt. loose clothing. tight clothing. jean shorts. sweater. sweater vest. khaki pants. suit. hoodie. harem pants. basketball shorts. boxers. briefs. boxer-briefs. hot pants. hipster panties. bra. sports bra. crop top. corset. ballerina skirt. leotard. polka dot. stripes. glitter. silk. lace. leather. velvet. cotton. chemise. patterns. florals. neon colors. pastels. plaid. black. dark colors. fur. faux fur.

SHOES / sneakers. slip-ons. flats. slippers. sandals. high heels. kitten heels. ankle boots. combat boots. boots. cowboy boots. knee-high. platforms. stripper heels. bare feet. loafers.

#//just saw this meme and wanted to do it for the sake of it teehe #;ooc #;about

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themurphyzone · 2 years

Text

Pinky Unleashed Ch 10

AN: Starting with this chapter, things will be really ramped up from here!

AO3 Link

Ch 10: Uso

He knew he couldn't lie to Brain forever. His insides felt even awfuler and ickier than they did during his transformations, but he couldn't tell Brain that the ancient king's story haunted him.

Brain was already stressed out from trying to save the world. He didn't need to carry Pinky's burden on top of that.

That mean king was a living vessel for Dark Gaia. Just like me. And…we both destroyed the world.

How Brain and Chip managed to look at him, sit next to him, and speak to him like he wasn't an awful monster confused Pinky to no end.

He wanted to enjoy the sunlight streaming through the car window as they traveled down the streets of Rome, watching people sit and chat outside cafes while sipping their coffee. Chip gushed about all the wonderful sights he was seeing for the very first time, but Pinky could only smile and nod along without contributing much.

“We aren’t far now,” Marco said from the driver’s seat. “Just a few more minutes.”

“The Gaia Temple’s entrance is hidden within the catacombs just outside the city,” Professor Pickle explained. “The area is normally restricted to everyone who isn’t researching ancient Rome, so we won’t be bothered by anyone as we search for a way inside.”

Brain stiffened at the mention of catacombs. He'd never been fond of cats.

"We can just hide in the professor's pocket if we run into any cats," Pinky said. "Or combs."

"Are cats scary?" Chip asked curiously.

"Nope!" Pinky said, thinking of all the cute kitty videos he'd seen online. "They're cute and fluffy and sometimes they look grouchy but are super affectionate!"

Brain crossed his arms. "While I'd prefer not to have any encounters with our natural predator, catacombs have nothing to do with cats or combs. They're ancient storage sites for the dead. Expect to see bones and mummies rather than felines.”

“What’s a mummy?” Chip asked curiously. Professor Pickle didn’t get far into his explanation of ancient embalming practices before Chip turned green and gagged, declaring that he was perfectly alright with not knowing.

Pinky’s fingers tightly gripped the leather seat, and he hoped Brain didn’t notice that he wasn’t really up for going into spooky places at the moment.

“Well, we won’t be in there long, so we shouldn't run into anything too scary…" Pinky said hopefully.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small hand reach for his own, but the moment he blinked, it was gone. Next to him, Brain fidgeted in his seat, though he was obviously trying to stay still.

“As I said before, we don’t know how to access the temple itself, even though we have its location,” Pickle said. “Gaining entry might take some time.”

Brain would be able to figure it out. He could figure out anything that wasn’t a non-powdered dairy creamer, feelings, or how socks kept disappearing from their dryer.

The city was behind them now. Marco was a careful driver, keeping his speed low as he guided the car along the thin, winding roads of the hillside surrounding Rome. They passed sprawling vineyards and stone ruins atop enormous hills, the sun beaming down from the blue sky above.

It was a very peaceful, beautiful countryside. Once the world was saved, maybe he and Brain could take a stroll and picnic here.

If only the rest of the world looked like this.

The car finally stopped at the base of a hill with an enormous stone archway carved into it. The door was locked with a thick iron chain and padlock.

Even though they hadn’t gone inside yet, it still creeped Pinky out. He wanted to stay out here with the sunshine, where they didn’t have to worry about anything except figuring out what sort of yummy Italian food they needed to try next.

Marco, Pickle, and Chip were the first ones out of the car. Chip had settled on Pickle’s head while he unlocked the door with a key he’d taken out of his pocket. Though the passenger door was wide open, Pinky and Brain were slower to climb out of the car. The air was foreboding and heavy, even from a distance.

Despite his misgivings, Pinky jumped down first. Helping Brain get down safely came before his fear.

Brain let go of the seat, and Pinky raised his arms, catching Brain with ease just as he’d always done. He felt Brain tense, a slight blush on his cheeks as he hastily climbed out of Pinky’s arms. Though Pinky wished the moment had lasted longer, he knew that Brain needed to concentrate on finding a way into the temple.

The door finally unlocked, swinging open with an eerie, high-pitched creak that hurt Pinky’s ears.

“Here. Better take these,” Marco said, passing out colorful keychain flashlights to everybody. Chip yelped as he switched on his light and accidentally shined the beam into his eyes, crashing into the door during his temporary blindness.

“You have a lovely polka dotted dress, ma’am,” Chip mumbled, swaying dizzily in front of Pinky.

Pinky giggled and curtseyed, spreading his invisible dress out and wondering what color it should be. Maybe a warm autumn? Those were in season right now.

Brain rolled his eyes. “Remind me of why I’m stuck saving the world with two ignoramuses.”

“Narf! But we aren’t iguanas, Brain,” Pinky said. Last time he checked, he definitely wasn’t a lizard. “I’m a mouse, and Chip’s a…a Chiuabbit!”

Actually, he really didn’t know what Chip was supposed to be, but he didn’t seem to mind being called a Chihuabbit.

“Right…” Brain sighed. “And I’m an all-powerful alien superhero who masquerades as a mild-mannered reporter.”

Egad, that explained so much! “So that’s what you’ve been doing when you tell me to leave you alone cause you’re busy!” Pinky exclaimed.

Chip finally shook off the dizziness. “I didn’t understand anything you just said, but it sounds cool!”

Brain only sighed, turning on his flashlight as he followed the professor into the catacomb. But he didn’t get very far before freezing, his ears suddenly dropping against his back.

His flashlight beam had fallen across a propped-up skeleton dressed in a grim-black robe, its gaunt skull staring daggers into them. A long, sharp scythe was in its bony hand.

Slowly approaching Brain so he didn’t startle him, Pinky carefully took Brain’s non-flashlight hand in his own. The beam of light stopped trembling as it lowered from the reaper.

“Maybe someone misplaced their Halloween decoration?” Pinky asked, trying to calm him down enough so he could help the professor.

The reaper didn’t look anything like the funny singing, talking skeletons in the Halloween aisle though.

“...perhaps,” Brain whispered, his voice weak. He didn’t even try to call Pinky’s suggestion stupid.

Chip hid behind Marco, covering his eyes to make the skeleton disappear.

“That’s the body of an eleventh century friar,” Marco said, a hint of unease in his tone despite his experience with the catacombs, and Brain shushed him before he could reveal anything more than that.

The world was already in trouble from Dark Gaia and its monsters. They didn’t need anymore scary stuff.

Brain transferred his flashlight to his free hand, not letting go of Pinky as he hauled him into the next room, their footsteps echoing off the cold stone underfoot. Their flashlights were the only things that cut through the darkness of the catacomb.

“Don’t look around, Pinky,” Brain advised, his grip on Pinky’s hand tightening. “Or I shall be forced to hurt you.”

Brain’s nails dug into the back of Pinky’s hand as they passed an enormous stack of skulls. Even though Brain kept his flashlight pointed away from anything too spooky, their empty eye sockets stared right through Pinky, causing his fur to stand on end.

Bones lined every inch of the walls, the air smelling of decay.

Pinky lost track of how many rooms they passed. He didn’t want to know how many skeletons and mummies were laid to rest here. He heard Marco warn Chip against touching the skeletons, but other than the echoes of their footsteps, it was completely silent.

Just when Pinky thought the catacomb would go on forever, they finally found Professor Pickle. He stood in front of a stone wall with a bunch of weird pictures drawn into it.

“Ah, there you are,” Pickle said, completely unfazed by the catacomb’s creepiness. “The Gaia Temple is behind this wall. Marco and I have been attempting to decipher the engravings in case it reveals a passageway to the temple itself, but we’re no closer to breaking through and solving the mystery.”

Brain released Pinky’s hand, slowly scanning over the engravings with his flashlight. He murmured a bunch of big, smart words as he tried to make sense of it.

After a few minutes, Brain’s fingers curled tightly around his flashlight. “We can’t waste time deciphering this ancient gibberish,” he said. “Marco, your car will contain enough flammable material to create an explosion powerful enough to bring down this obstacle. We’ll simply have to blast our way through.”

Marco frowned. “Brain, this is a protected site. You can’t just-”

“There won’t be any sites left to protect once Dark Gaia destroys the world before I rule it, you dolt!” Brain snapped.

“And we’d miss out on valuable history too,” Professor Pickle added, though he was much calmer than Brain or Marco were about the matter.

“I only need a few drops of sulfuric acid and nitroglycerin! It won’t bring down the entire catacomb!” Brain argued.

“I still don’t want you damaging my car!” Marco retorted.

As Brain tried to sway the humans over to his logic, a wave of dizziness suddenly overtook Pinky. The world swirled around him as he tried to stay upright, but he only succeeded in stumbling around like he’d fallen into a wine barrel again.

"Brain?" Pinky tried to call out, but his stomach was doing flip-flops and he wasn't sure if Brain had heard him or if he was making any noise at all.

The moment he felt a solid surface against his back, he slumped to the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and trying to keep his head down to stop himself from throwing up.

His entire body was shaking, and he was too hot and too cold and his mouth was dry and his heart was gonna leap right out of his chest-

A pair of hands clamped down on his shoulders. Despite the effort to be strong, Pinky could feel that they were fragile too, so very fragile.

"Pinky? Pinky, can you hear me? Say…oh, I can't believe I'm saying this, say narf! I command you to say narf this instant!"

It was Brain's voice.

And if Brain was here, that meant everything would be better.

But…why did his voice sound so panicked? So scared?

Pinky wanted to obey, but it was…it was just too hard.

"...r-raiiiii?" he tried, though it sounded like he'd been gargling gravel, and he hadn't eaten gravel recently.

Despite the catacomb's darkness, Brain's worried rose-pink eyes shone through like a pretty lantern.

Pinky tried to focus on him, tried to speak, but all that came was a low moan.

"Um…um…what always helps me? Um…" Chip's panicked voice was in his ear. "Here, Pinky! Have some chocolate!"

A sweet aroma filled his nostrils, and though he might've gladly eaten it before, his stomach was too queasy for food right now.

"Not helping, Chip!"

Pinky lowered his ears to block out the constant shouting.

But…Chip sounded really disappointed when Pinky didn't take his chocolate.

Maybe he could handle a nibble or two…

Pinky tried to reach for the chocolate, but his vision was hazy. There were five Brains, three chocolate bars, and two Chips. He didn’t know who was real and who wasn’t.

With a shaky hand, Pinky reached for the chocolate bar.

But when he tried to grab it, he heard a pained cry. Where it came from, he wasn’t sure. It was hard to just grab the chocolate bar. His fingers wouldn’t bend properly, tingles running through his entire hand.

Pinky stared at his hand, trying to see why it wouldn’t behave like he wanted. Through his hazy vision, only one thing stood out.

His nails were sharper, longer, thicker…looking like…

Claws.

But the sun was still in the sky, right? There were no windows, so he couldn’t be sure.

A fresh wave of agony overtook him, and he doubled over, his own deepening screams foreign to his ears.

“We’re…ugh, we’re hours away from sunset! How is he-” Brain’s voice was strained.

“Brain, your arm-” Chip began, only to be cut off by an angry hiss from Brain.

“It’s nothing! Leave it alone, Chip!”

Was something wrong with Brain’s arm? Pinky writhed on the ground, trying to ignore the pain as his arms swelled beyond their normal size.

His teeth sharpened inside his mouth, and biting down was painful.

“Professor, I just checked outside! It’s completely dark out there!” Marco shouted, panic creeping into his breathless voice. “I don’t understand! It’s only five in the afternoon, it shouldn’t be-”

“It’s worse than I feared,” Professor Pickle said gravely. “The balance of the planet is in disarray. The night will come, earlier and earlier, until daytime ceases to be.”

The pain ebbed slightly, though it didn't completely fade away. He didn't need to look at his body to know that he'd transformed. He could tell from the heaviness alone.

Pinky's vision cleared, and the first thing he saw was Brain trying to hide his bleeding arm behind his back, though the sudden movement clearly pained him.

"Y-you're finished," Brain stammered, his ears falling as Pinky stretched his muzzle out, trying to see Brain's injury. "Good. We can get back to opening the passageway."

Pinky whined. Why wouldn't Brain tell him how he'd been injured?

"It's okay, Pinky!" Chip said hastily. "We know you wanted the chocolate! It was just an accident that you grabbed Brain's arm instead!"

I…did that?

Brain couldn't completely hide the angry red clawmarks behind his back, nor the round, terrified look in his eyes.

Pinky tucked his tail between his legs in shame, whimpering as he tried to smell anything but the salty scent of Brain's blood.

"Chip!" Brain glared at the Chihuabbit, his fist clenching at his side. He winced when the sudden movement hurt his arm.

Chip blinked, confused at Brain's reaction. "Let me see your-"

"For the last time, drop it already!" Brain complained, waving off Chip's concern. "Let's worry about-"

"CAW!"

A bird's loud screech interrupted him.

Startled, everybody looked around for the source of the noise. Why would a bird be hanging around a catacomb of all places?

Then Pinky’s ears flicked at the rustle of feathers overhead. There were dark, threatening whispers of barely-contained excitement above them. And Pinky spotted the flock of dark, glowing ravens watching them with malice in their beady eyes, waiting to strike.

He sensed their intent to hurt and destroy, and he bared his fangs, growling low in his throat. Pinky howled to alert everyone, and their attention snapped to the rafters.

That was all the warning they had before the ravens leapt off their perch in a flurry of feathers, razor-sharp beaks and talons sinking into Pinky’s flesh.

“Turn on your flashlights!” Brain shouted, stunning a swooping raven with his flashlight before bludgeoning it over the head. “They’re repelled by light!”

He tried to retrieve Pinky’s forgotten flashlight on the ground, but quickly dropped it when he couldn’t hold it with his injured arm.

But Marco had gone into full-blown panic, swinging his flashlight wildly without turning it on.

“You must remain calm, Mateo!” Pickle shouted, attempting to hit a raven yanking on Marco’s hair, though it didn’t do much good.

“I-I can’t!” Marco cried out, the flashlight slipping out of his hand. “There’s too many, and it’s useless, and hopeless, and…and we’re all gonna die anyway so why are we even bothering with this fight?”

“Massimo, whatever you do, don’t listen to Dark Gaia! Block it out!” Pickle urged, but the ravens quickly swarmed and overwhelmed him too.

Pinky launched himself at the ravens to try and get them away from the humans, but a raven screeched in his sensitive ear, disorienting him as another bird tried to peck at his eyes. Pinky swatted it away, and it dissipated into a dark mist.

Then Brain screamed before he even had a chance to save Marco and the professor.

A raven had seized Brain’s flashlight in its talons, screeching as the beam of light waved in its face. But it refused to let go, and Brain was using both arms to hold onto the flashlight.

“Let go, you pesky avian!” Brain hissed through gritted teeth, the light illuminating the horrible scratches Pinky had inflicted on him. But the raven was much stronger, and it successfully yanked the flashlight out of Brain’s grasp.

Brain froze, stunned by the loss of his only weapon. And the ravens cackled in chorus at his vulnerability as they descended upon him. A strangled cry came from somewhere within the mass of feathers.

A dark, frightening feeling arose within Pinky while the ravens swarmed Brain, his tiny body swallowed by the flock.

Brain was in danger.

And before Pinky even realized what he'd done, he sprung towards the ravens with his claws outstretched, a snarl tearing out of his throat.

The ravens screeched, alarmed as their numbers were mowed down in seconds by several inch-long claws.

The scary red haze filled his vision once again. His body wasn't quite his own anymore, and deep within, he felt an urge to destroy, destroy, and destroy.

They were hurting Brain. They had to be destroyed. Every single one.

Blood-red beaks lunged for him, aiming for his throat, but he swatted them aside with ease.

The ravens couldn’t do anything against him. He was stronger, faster, and more powerful than they could ever be. A rush of power coursed through Pinky’s body.

Pinky growled, his body quaking as he fought to remember anything in this fog.

Please, I wanna remember everything this time! I just…want to protect Brain…. *italicize*

"...Pinky?" a terrified voice whispered from underneath him.

And he felt a too-small hand touch his wrist.

The terrifying redness faded into dark grays and blacks, until the catacomb finally looked normal again, or as normal as a scary underground graveyard could be.

Pinky blinked and glanced down at the tiny white mouse underneath him. Brain was small…so small that Pinky could’ve crushed him without meaning to, even while he was trying to protect him from the ravens.

Those rose-pink eyes were round, wide, and frightened, caught in the shadow of Pinky’s protective crouch.

Pinky whimpered, ears drooping as he leaned down to check Brain for new injuries. Brain made a disgruntled noise as he tried to stop Pinky from nosing his head, though he wasn’t nearly strong enough to push him off completely.

Though there were a few cuts and nicks all over Brain’s body from the ravens’ attack, none of them were as serious as the scratches on Brain’s arm.

“Thanks, but I’m fine, Pinky,” Brain said, his voice only slightly stronger than before. But he clearly wasn’t fine. His pinched face was all Pinky needed to see to know that his arm was hurting even worse than before. “We should worry about-”

“H-hey! What’s going on? I thought we were friends, guys!” Chip yelped loudly.

Startled by his screams, Pinky and Brain quickly turned to see Chip restrained by Marco and Professor Pickle, who had unnaturally wide smiles on their faces. Their movements were stiff and awkward, as their grip tightened around Chip’s wrists and ankles. Chip’s tiny wings beat frantically, but he couldn’t escape the trap.

“You won’t like what you see behind the door,” Marco hissed. “So why bother?”

“Your mission is pointless!” Pickle laughed mirthlessly. “The Dark Master shall reign forever!”

That didn’t sound like Marco or the professor at all! They didn’t want Dark Gaia to destroy the world either, so why were they talking like that?

Whining, Pinky nudged Brain for an answer. He always had the answer.

Brain stared at the humans in horror, not even nudging Pinky away this time. “They’ve been possessed…” he whispered, nervously gripping the puff of fur on Pinky’s wrist.

Even though Pinky had gotten rid of the ravens attacking Brain, it seemed like there were still just as many birds as before. He hadn’t made a dent in their numbers at all. They were focused on Chip and the humans now.

A raven swooped down on Chip, swiftly dodging Chip’s weak kicks as its talons latched around the green bauble on Chip’s silver necklace. It cawed in triumph, flapping its wings as it tried to pull the necklace away, though it was secure around Chip’s neck.

Chip gagged, his hands grasping at empty air.

Brain was in no condition to help Chip, and Pinky wasn’t sure if he could step in without hurting somebody. The humans were friendly when they weren’t possessed, and Pinky didn’t want to attack them when they didn’t know what they were doing.

Marco’s hand moved to the back of Chip's necklace in search of a clasp.

Pinky tensed, but before he could leap into action, Chip suddenly reared back, a caterwaul slipping out of his throat and echoing off the catacomb's walls.

And a vivid green light burst out of the green bauble, enveloping the entire catacomb with its dazzling shine.

The humans screamed and recoiled from the light, hissing with pain as dark energy flowed out of their bodies and sank into the ground.

The ravens barely opened their beaks in alarm before their forms dissolved into mist, which quickly hurried away on the wind.

Chip's body was suspended in the air, his necklace's light flowing in all directions. One of the energy bursts smashed into the wall, illuminating the inscriptions with a magical energy.

Then the entire catacomb quaked.

Rubble and dust fell from the ceiling, and Pinky quickly positioned himself over Brain to block the debris from falling on him.

Vivid green lines snaked across the inscriptions, and a crack appeared in the wall, growing wider with every passing second.

Pinky spread his limbs to avoid losing his balance, while Brain clung to his arm for support.

And finally, the shaking stopped. The dust settled, the bones no longer rattled.

The mysterious green light finally faded away. Chip plummeted to the ground, rubbing his head and groaning in pain.

"What just happened…" he murmured.

When nothing else fell from the ceiling, Brain let go of Pinky’s fur and moved towards the new passage, examining the parted walls and peering at whatever waited on the other side. Then he cautiously approached the unconscious humans, who didn't stir even though Brain pinched the skin of their wrists between his fingers.

"They're alive," Brain announced. "But the possession appears to have drained their energy. We'll have to leave them here and proceed into the temple ourselves. They won’t be any help to us.”

But Pinky slunk towards Chip, prodding him with his nose to check if he was okay. He couldn’t just leave Chip behind. The humans would be okay once they got some rest, but Pinky was hesitant to leave Chip when his memories were missing.

Pretty colors swirled inside the green orb, which was warm to the touch. It made Pinky feel all fuzzy inside. Unable to resist, he licked the orb, though he didn’t realize just how big his tongue was and got some of Chip’s fur in his mouth.

“AHHHHH!” Chip screamed as Pinky’s tongue touched his fur. He shot several feet into the air, wings beating frantically as he wildly took in his surroundings. “I’m awake! I’m awake, okay? You really gotta stop waking me up like that!”

Brain marched up to Pinky, beckoning him down to his level with a finger. Once Pinky laid his head down, Brain climbed onto his muzzle and looked him straight in the eye, crossing his arms to show his displeasure. He jabbed a finger into the center of Pinky’s forehead.

“Don’t lick mysterious orbs that serve as the key to opening the Gaia Temple, Pinky,” Brain scolded.

Okay, Brain. Narf! Pinky wanted to say, but it only came out as a high-pitched yap. So he nodded his head to show that he understood. Brain yelped as he lost his footing and fell onto his chubby tummy, draped over Pinky’s muzzle.

He shook away the dizziness. “And don’t make any vigorous motions when I’m standing on you either.”

But Pinky barely heard him. He peered closely at Brain’s arm, surprised to find that the angry red scratches were no longer there. And though Brain didn’t seem to realize it yet, he was moving his arm without issue or pain.

Brain climbed off Pinky’s muzzle, and Pinky made a curious noise as he did so, poking Brain’s arm with his nose once he was on the ground.

“Stop that, Pinky. We have more important matters than-” Brain stopped trying to shove Pinky away, finally noticing the healed state of his arm. “Wait. How did…it couldn’t have healed that fast…”

As Brain struggled to figure out how his arm healed, Chip flipped onto his back and hovered inches above the ground, pointing at Brain’s arm with a relieved smile.

“Hey, your scratches are gone! That’s great!” he exclaimed.

Brain didn’t respond right away, only turning and extending his arm out of curiosity. Then his eyes fell upon the green orb on Chip’s necklace.

“Chip, are you aware that your necklace has healing capabilities?” Brain asked, scrutinizing the green orb closely.

Chip tilted his head, giving Brain a confused look. “No?” Chip said, sounding genuinely confused. “I just happened to wake up with it. I mean, I think it looks good on me, right?”

Pinky nodded in agreement. Green really brought out Chip’s eye color.

“Call it a wild theory, but your necklace doesn’t appear to just be a bold fashion statement,” Brain admitted. “You ‘just happen’ to have an object that can produce a brilliant light powerful enough to vanquish Dark Gaia’s minions, cure cases of possession, heal injuries, and open the passageway to the Gaia Temple when no other methods worked. None of that can possibly be a coincidence.”

Chip glanced down at the orb on his chest, twitching with uncertainty. “L-look, I didn’t do any of that on purpose. Honest! I just wanted those scary ravens to stop attacking us,” he stammered.

Brain’s brow furrowed, and Chip nervously glanced down at his feet under the pressure. Pinky curled his tail around Chip and gave Brain a warning look. For a moment, Brain held steady, but when no answer sprung out, he sighed and focused on picking up the forgotten flashlights before heading for the passage into the Gaia Temple.

“We’ll lay this matter to rest for now,” Brain said over his shoulder. “We have more pressing concerns ahead of us. Come, both of you.”

Though Brain marched ahead of Pinky and Chip in the passage, trying to display confidence even though they were heading into unknown territory, Pinky caught the uncertain gait in his steps as the ground changed from smooth, carved stone into rougher soil underfoot.

Chip stayed on the ground, huddled close to Pinky as he fearfully took in the low-cut tunnel, the slight, downward slope, the soil and little rocks in the wall. The ceiling was so low that Pinky had to walk on all fours.

“Egad…” Brain’s stunned voice echoed somewhere up ahead.

Pinky rushed ahead, wanting to know what was surprising enough for Brain to say ‘egad.’ Chip grabbed onto Pinky’s tail, yelping when he was dragged along for the ride.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel. And if there was a light at the end, then Pinky knew they’d be just fine.

The passage finally opened into a large, dome-shaped room with dimly lit torches along the sloped walls. Pottery and old pieces of paper were scattered all over the floor. Etchings of farmers, crop fields, and animals were engraved along the sides.

Pinky inhaled deeply, scenting fresh earth and a sweet aroma burning from the incense hanging from the ceiling.

And the centerpiece of the room was an enormous metallic statue of an intimidating bull. There were symbols on the podium, though Pinky didn’t understand what they meant. Brain stood in the bull’s shadow, mouth open and ears pinned back like he was afraid it would charge him. Its fiery red eyes bore straight into Pinky, and a chill ran up Pinky’s spine as the bull glared hatefully at him.

“Sacrilege!” the bull statue bellowed, its deep voice rumbling the earth underneath their feet. “You dare bring a servant of Dark Gaia to my domain? He is not welcome here!”

And Pinky wilted as Brain turned to him, his concerned expression melting into one of barely concealed anger.

I didn’t want to destroy the world you’re going to rule someday, Brain. Please, you’ve gotta believe me….

End AN: Chapter title comes from the first Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood ending. Uso means lie in Japanese. Guess what happens a lot in this chapter?

Fun fact: I assumed the Roman catacombs were under the city like their famous Parisian counterparts before research, but ancient Roman law dictates that its illegal to bury bodies within the city, so their catacombs are just outside the city walls instead.

Okay, I’ll admit that it’s hard to slot Chip in some conversations because of the whole ‘third character doesn’t bounce well with these two mice’ problem but here he’s finally getting plot relevance beyond just talking about food.

Ravens were specifically used here since they’re usually symbols of death and it fit the whole creepy catacomb theme.

I like to think the protective stance Pinky takes when he’s defending Brain is basically the one the Beast uses when he’s saving Belle from the wolves.

No Brain isn't actually mad at Pinky at the moment, even though the pov makes it seem that way. He's actually mad at the statue.

Poor Pinky. Welp, time to make him feel worse in the next chapter! Also I sound like a sadist and I hope Brain doesn’t come after me in my sleep.

#pinky and the brain #pinky unleashed

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