#i only weigh like 105

[shadow-bender]

.

[icelogged]

i’ve been putting beets in my salads recently and ♡ ♡ ♡

[uncharismatic-fauna]

Big-Time Bighorn Sheep

Found throughout the Rocky mountains of western North America, the bighorn sheep (Ovis canadensis) is one of only two sheep native to the continent. They mainly inhabit rocky alpine meadows, at elevations of 800-2500 m (5,000-8,500 ft). The subspecies Ovis canadensis nelsoni occupies lower elevations, and lives in the deserts of the southwestern United States and northern Mexico.

Bighorn sheep are named for the large, curling horns-- known as curls-- carried by the males, or rams. These horns weigh as much as all the rest of the ram’s bones put together, up to 14 kg (30.8 lbs). Males themselves weigh up to 127 kg (279.8 lbs) and stand 105 cm (41 in) tall at the shoulder. Females, or ewes, are much smaller, at 91 kg (200 lbs) and 90 cm (35 in), and their horns are shorter. Both sexes sport short, grey-brown coats with white underbellies and behinds. Their hooves are split, and well adapted to cling to rocks and steep cliffs as they forage.

O. canadensis is herbivorous, and spends most of the day searching for grasses and brush to graze on. In addition, many bighorn sheep can be found at naturally-occurring salt licks where they can acquire minerals not available in their primary diet. Despite their large size and hazardous home environment, bighorn sheep can be hunted by wolves, bears, lynx, and mountain lions. Lambs are particularly targeted, and can even become food for golden eagles which are large enough to carry them away.

Outside the mating season, males and females live in separate groups. Often times, the males will form homosexual societies, in which members of a group court and mount each other in the same way they do females. Some rams, however, chose to live with the ewes and their young, and adopt a number of female mannerisms- though they refuse to be mounted by males.

Rutting season begins in September or October, and lasts through early December. During this period, rams engage in the head-to-head combat for which they are famous in order to construct a social hierarchy. Once this structure is established, males begin courting the females; ewes will accept multiple partners while in oestrus, which lasts for about three days. They then carry their young for 150-180 days before giving birth to one or two lambs. These young are extremely precocial, and after a few weeks will form groups of their own and seldom return to their mothers. Individuals reach sexual maturity at one or two years old, and can live anywhere from 7 to 19 years in the wild.

Conservation status: The bighorn sheep’s population has been severely reduced due to overhunting, introduced diseases, and competition from livestock. Several of O. canadensis’s subspecies are endangered. However, the species as a whole is considered Least Concern by the IUCN.

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Photos

Tyler Creech

Sally Bellacqua

Diane Renkin

[toshio]

If you've shared this before I apologize. But I'm curious how many push ups do you do daily and what's your protein intake? My goal is to get big juicy pecs like you!

hello! push ups can only do so much T_T i don't do them everyday! but if i did? i would have even fatter bewbs. also you need to eat a lot of protein, try to aim for like 0.7-1g of protein per body weight. so if you weigh 150 pounds, maybe like 105-150 range of protein grams per day. i am not a fitness expert, just an enthusiast. everyone's body is different! but in general, if you move around more (walk more) and eat healthy, lean stuff, like protein (greek yogurt, chicken rice etc.) you will see results. almost guarantee you. be consistent and disciplined. beauty and aesthetics is pain. :D good luck anon-chan

[enderwalking]

Traffic/Life Series Scored like MCC

In honor of the upcoming fourth series, and for the Trafficblr Throwback, I've decided to repost these score tables I did, quantifying each player's performance in each of the Minecraft death games! Here are the Official (as determined by only me) rankings across each series:

The scoring was based loosely on the method used for Survival Games in MCC, with points awarded for survival, kills, and overall placement. Further details below the cut (warning, it gets LONG).

In Third Life, players are awarded points each time someone dies and they survive: 5 points if they survive on green, 4 for yellow, and 3 for red. Staying green for longer thus awards more points than staying red for the same amount of time. In cases where players did not participate in a session (i.e. BDubs in session 6, BigB and Joel in session 7), they don't get the survival points for deaths that occurred during that session, since they technically weren't around to outlive people during that time.

Each kill is also awarded 30 points. For my purposes, unintentional deaths that could be directly attributed to a player (i.e. Grian's creeper prank, as well as deaths to Tango's minigame) still counted towards that player's kill points.

Lastly, you get bonus points based on your final placement: survival bonuses from 1st to 14th go 200 points, 180, 165, 150, 135, 120, 105, 95, 85, 75, 65, 55, 45, and 35. Placing first obviously gives you the greatest edge, and placing in the top 50% also gives you a larger bonus.

For Double Life, I used basically the same scoring system as described above. I decided to treat each player's death as individual rather than grouping soulmates together, just since that felt more fair. I also decided that kills were individual; so for instance, Grian's stalactite only hit Ren, so he only gets one kill rather than two. However, since that halved the number of kills available overall, I compromised by having kills be worth twice as many points.

For Last Life, I knew going in that I definitely wouldn't be able to weigh survival points the same way, so I just went with the easiest alternative option in that everyone gets 4 points each time someone dies and they survive, regardless of how many lives they have at the time. Survival bonuses were pretty much the same, but got a bit lower as they went further down. Also, players got 30 points each time they gained a life. For this purpose, things like the Southlands passing a life around in a circle don't count; the life has to at least stick for a little while. I figured, since survival is the goal, gaining lives or getting people to give you their lives should be rewarded. Kills are still 30 points, and there were a LOT of them this time around due to the higher than average number of lives to spare, which definitely pushed scores higher across the board. And hey, since he managed One (1) kill, it means that Jimmy wasn't last! Also, shoutout to Joel Smallishbeans for managing to be the only non-winner to rank first in a series through the power of incredible violence!

[usafphantom2]

XB-70

The XB-70 accommodated four crew members: a pilot, co-pilot, bombardier, and defensive systems officer. I can’t get enough of looking at pictures of this remarkable airplane. It’s hard to believe that it was developed in the 1960s. It was obsolete, just like the YF 12 developed by Kelly Johnson, when it became apparent that the next war between us and our enemies would not happen traditionally. Instead of bombers and interceptors, unfortunately, it would be nuclear war delivered by intercontinental ballistic missiles.

Although the XB-70 was fast, it was not even close to the SR 71, as the B-17 could only dash to Mach 3.

The XB-70 was 196 feet long, had a tail height of 31 feet, and weighed in at 521,000 pounds, making it the largest experimental aircraft in existence. Its delta wings had a 105 feet span and were swept at an angle of over 65 degrees.

You can see the remaining XB 70 and the only remaining YF 12 at the Museum of the Air Force near Dayton, Ohio .

Linda Sheffield

The XB-70 in formation with a F-4 Phantom II, F-104 Starfighter and two F-5 Tigers. In first photo.

@Habubrats71 via X

[jessilynallendilla]

The Most Popular Girls in School Quotes Without Context Season 1

“I want to poop here. Whenever I want, for as long as I want.” 

“I’ll be watching you.” “I’m going to poop now.” 

“Have fun smelling my poops, bitches!” 

“Was it slutty of me to give you a hand job last night?"

“Hey, if I watch an episode of Glee and an episode of Gossip Girl, can I get a blow job instead?” 

“God, I want to fucking murder you.” 

“What the fuck is a growler?”  

“Well then, I’ll gladly tell all the student bodies of Wichita State, Kansas and San Diego State, that you eat dick burritos.” 

“Suck my dick!” “Ok.” “What!?-” “Drop trou, I’ll suck your dick right now!” “Dude, that was an expression! Right? Am I right? That’s an expression, right guys?” 

“I’ll suck all your dicks right now!” 

“I’m a real man! I’m not afraid!” 

“Yeah, he’s definitely gay.” “He’s gay.” “We had an assembly about it.” 

“One last question...how come Matthew Daringer doesn’t have a penis or testicles?” 

“Jesus Christ, is that a fucking Gremlin?” “No, I’m a third grader.” 

“Rea-really? We talked, you pooped, I thought we had a connection.” 

“Wait, wait a minute, you lost control of the girl’s bathrooms?! Where the fuck am I supposed to shit now?” “Oh, you can go to the Jack in the Box across the street.” 

“We’ll I’m twenty-seven and still living with my parents in Overland Park. I have an art history degree from night school. My cat just died. I’ve lost 25% control of my sphincter muscles. I get a clicking sound in my jaw when I eat. I drive a ‘91 Dodge Neon. I have ovarian cysts. Sometimes I pee the bed still. I have alopecia. The only man who wants to fuck me is my 48-year-old manager at Pizza Street. PS, he only has one ball. So, I guess, better than you.”  

“No! Girls! On HBO! Kind of like Gossip Girl, but more tits.” 

“She said this is easier, you know, she said she just gets really emotional when she’s pregnant. And drunk.” 

“My mom said it’s about time people start feeling sorry for me.” 

“I won your card fair and square, so hand it ower before I bitch swap the bwack out of you.” 

*hit with a Hackey-Sack* “Aaah! Son of a bitch! Bastard! Aaah! God! Why me? Why me? Why? Does God hate me? Oh Jesus Christ!” 

“Oh my God I feel like I’m having an abortion!” 

“Mikayla, I’m six feet tall and weigh 105 pounds. I think I know how to mix x-lax into a fucking drink, ok?” 

“Mommy, what did you used to drink when you were a cheerleader?” “Squeez-its and Zima, why?” 

“Fuck it right it in the ass.” “No lube!” “Fisting!” “With a big black dildo!” The biggest!” 

“And don’t get me started on Pakistan. Ahmedinijad, am I right?” 

*principle making announcements* “And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, I know I’m excited, my nipples are hard.” 

“’Oh yes! Oh, fuck yes! Who else is wet in here?” 

“I’m sorry, was I not just in the middle of a story?” “Yeah, but I wasn’t really that interested in it.”  

“Do you like making me look like a dickhole? Do you?” “You want me to say no, right?” 

“She may be a dirty fucking slut but at least she’s ours.” 

“Deandra, you’re a member of this family, you poop with us!” “Uh no. Deandra, you’re a cheerleader. You shit with us!”  

*waving amputated arms* “These are a little girl’s arms!” 

“How could you do this to us? You literally bombed us. Like the Japanese you are.” 

“Oh my, somebody’s going to be walking very funny tomorrow morning.” 

“The babies you make tonight are going to be so stupid.” 

“I swear, if I was into ladies, I’d be elbow deep in you right now.” “Hello.” 

“I’m being paid fifty dollars to stand here. Not talk to Rick Taylor’s bottom. Go away now.” 

“You look like a tampon that was dipped in skittles and vomit.” “Thank you.” 

“I get to run a hundred meters in the Special Olympics, I lost like twenty-seven pounds-” “Oh my god! What is your secret?” “...I had my arms ripped off.” 

“Well, I gave every boy in the school a blowjay!” 

"Um, Tanner, aren’t you gay?” "That’s a woman!?” 

[iceycube]

Snobrød! 🧑‍🍳🧑‍🍳🔥

Wrap bread. Fun summer activity, recipe yields 14 breads

Ingredients:

50 g fresh yeast

75 g butter (with optional herbs and spices)

800 g flour

400 mL milk

100 mL yogurt or sour cream or kefir

25 g sugar

12 g salt

How to:

Stand mixer with dough hook attachment or big bowl and wooden spoon

All ingredients in the mixing bowl

Mix on slowest speed until all is combined or stir until everything is combined

Turn to speed 2 for 5-ish minutes until dough does no longer stick to the hook. Or knead vigorously for 10-15 minutes until it doesn't stick to your hands. If it keeps sticking you may want to wash your hands and change your kneading technique :b push the dough away from yourself with the ball of your hand and snap it back with your fingers. Do not stick your fingers into the dough. It is a very good workout, so you may want to only wear a t-shirt ;]

Do the gluten test. With clean warm hands take a small ball of dough and carefully stretch it into a thin rectangle just using your fingers. If it doesn't tear your dough is kneaded. If it does tear, you give it 1-2 minutes more on speed 2. If it tears at your fingers, but not in the middle, it is also done.

If you want to freeze the dough, weigh clumps of ca 200 g, make balls, and wrap in plastic wrap. When placing in freezer make sure they do not touch or they will keep each other warm and explode out of the wrap. Dough keeps for 3 months in freezer.

If you don't freeze it: out of bowl unto a floured surface and knead into a big ball. Cover with a dish towel for 1 hour at room temp.

Make a bonfire (one of the styles that actually produce embers and not just fire) and wait for it to get to embers or at the very least until all wood has a layer of ash on it. (maybe a friend can do this while you make the dough)

Weigh the dough to 100-105 g and let rest a little bit before rolling out to the length of two fully stretched hands next to each other (40 cm)

Wrap around a food safe stick (bamboo is good for this) and gently bake the breads over the embers until brown and they let go of the stick. Remember to turn the stick rotisserie chicken style (all the time at slow rotational speed).

Serve as are or with ketchup and sausages or with fruit and jam or chocolate and fire toasted marshmallows (do not use herbs/spices in your butter if you do this).

I suppose you could just bake them like buns in the oven (190 C convection, 8 minutes, turn the baking sheet and give it 2-3 more minutes) but the baking over the bonfire embers, with your friends, just makes these so much better.

If you can't have milk, just use water for both the milk and sour milk portion, and 62 g oil instead of butter.

[hollowthatfollowssme]

✩｡:*•.❁ Welcome To My Blog❁.•*:｡✩

About Me Height: 5’2” HW: 182-lbs

CW:126.6-lbs

UGW: 105-lbs

I am 26 y/o college graduate who works full-time. Was recovered for a while but relapsed in 2021 after hitting HW. I got married April 2024 to the love of my life. I am Gluten Intolerant and have a very sensitive stomach. I love K-pop, fashion, kitting, early 2000s TV, cooking, fitness, smoking weed, and anything related to online tea. Absolutely obsessed with trying new diet soda flavors. I have been disordered since the age of 15 and have gone through ana, mia, and BED over the years Proudly Self Harm free since 2018!

What's the Point of This Blog?

When I relapsed in 2021, I discovered pro-ana forums for the first time and I learned that there is a sub-section of proana that is actually pro-harm reduction. I resonated with it because I am not ready for help nor is it an option without losing my job and everything I worked hard for. I feel like I have no choice but to manage my symptoms and reduce the harm to my health the best I can on my own, and I am FAR from being the only person with an ED who feels like this. Many of us have a lot to lose if we seek treatment and that very fact prevents us from seeking help. The next best thing we can do for ourselves is change how we see and interact with disordered thoughts. Instead of starving yourself because you want to disappear, what if you tried to slowly and steadily lose weight so that you can do something you always denied yourself, something that you always told yourself you weigh too much to do? I know from experience, that losing weight quick and dirty only makes you feel worse and DOESN'T LAST once you start to eat "normally" again. Sustainable lifestyle changes are the only way to prevent loose skin, stay on track with a bingeing problem, and keep your metabolism and hormones from going out of wack, (reducing the negative symptoms and long-term health effects of ED.) If you don't believe it's possible, I have lost over 60+lbs while struggling with Bingeing over the course 18 months and have maintained that loss for about 1 year with absolutely no period regain. I went from a US dress size 14 to a size 6 and in the last year that I have stayed 120lbs, I now fit into a size 4 from body recomposition.

How Did You Do It?

1. Address negative thoughts when you can, when you say sweeping statements like "I always mess up" or "Everyone hates me" Challenge those thoughts with facts. Is that really true or does it just feel that way in the moment? Be honest with yourself. Motivation is always coming and going and you can't rely on self-hate to keep you on your diet, people who hate themselves rarely take good care of themselves and stay on track.

2. You don't have to eat low res to lose weight, instead create a proper and sustainable calorie deficit. Use this link to find your BMR and look at the activity level to see how many calories you really burn in a day, most anas underestimate this number. Whatever that BMR number is, subtract 500 calories, this will give you the amount you can eat and still lose 1 lb per week! 3500cals of deficit = 1 lb of loss. 1 lb per week sounds slow but having consistent loss week after week is so healing for someone who has alot of ups and downs emotionally from weight fluxs. If that sounds like you, give slower loss a shot! 3. Stop punishing yourself and find things that you enjoy instead. If you are taking away food to punish yourself or using increased exercise to punish yourself, you are actively sabotaging the only things that help you with weight loss. If you use those things as punishments, you are less likely to want to do them AT ALL. It's so important to find an enjoyable exercise that you look forward to and that relieves stress. Exercise is there to help you maintain your health/weight and using it as a punishment takes all the joy away from it and makes it into a chore you dread and avoid. Instead of taking away food, focus on buying higher quality food in smaller portions, you will find it tastes better and you look forward to planning your meals around those ingredients. 4. Eat high volume low calorie whole foods. Alot of packaged "health" food is just as bad as junk food, they just put a trendy-looking design on the package and the word "natural" slapped on it. before you buy or eat anything you need to be looking at the label on the back. If you want to feel more satisfied with your meals, try to get at least 60g of protein a day and avoid food that is calorically dense especially when you don't have access to a food scale. Try to eat more foods that contain one ingredient and when eating a full meal, try to fill your plate with 2 large servings of vegetables, one serving of protein, and one small serving of a grain or starchy vegetable. This ratio of food helps you feel full and keeps the calories low! If you have any more questions feel free to use my inbox! If you need help to reduce harm and feel like you are beyond helping yourself, please get help from a trusted loved one. Your well-being is worth more than what ever trouble you might get in asking for help. Nothing you did could ever warrant or make you deserve to not live. You are worthy of love and good health and I hope this helps you get a step closer to that.

[mybeautifulwifegojo]

I haven't got a title for this yet and it's still very much a rough draft but here is some Writing

Guide/Sentinel AU because I'm trash for this dynamic

~

“Shoko.”

The newly-appointed doctor looked up from writing a report to see her yearmate and best friend leaning heavily on her office door, his eyes squinted behind his dark glasses. He looked miserable.

“Headache’s worse,” Satoru said shortly.

Shoko pursed her lips, frowning, and stood, walking over to place her fingertips against his forehead. He leaned into her touch gratefully, sighing in relief.

“Is it because of the Six Eyes?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Satoru said, eyes already drifting shut. The tension in his forehead and jaw eased as Shoko used her power to pull away the strain of overstimulation, synthesizing it into calm, peace, reassurance. “I think I might be reaching the point where I need to wear a blindfold. Glasses aren’t cutting it anymore; I can see fucking photons now, Shoko-chan. Not all the time, but… often enough.”

“Is that normal?” she asked, shocked. “Being able to see particles and atoms and such?”

“Unfortunately, yes. The older I get, the more I’ll see. The oldest recorded bearer of the Six Eyes gouged them out of her own skull at fifty years old because she couldn’t sleep anymore, even with metal plates sewn into her blindfold. Luckily we don’t tend to live much longer than thirty, so I probably won’t reach that point. For now, I just need more than sunglasses.” Satoru sighed again and hugged Shoko tightly. “Thanks for helping with the headache. Sorry to interrupt you for silly shit.”

“It’s not silly, Satoru.” Shoko returned the embrace, rubbing his back lightly. She could count his vertebrae and feel his ribs through his clothes. “You should be eating more.”

“Not hungry,” he muttered.

“Look, I know it’s only been three years since… but you have to take better care of yourself. Find a Guide you can bond with, maybe. I can help if you want.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Satoru let go, stepped back, hitched on an incredibly fake smile. “I’m fine for now, but thanks for worrying about me.”

Shoko nodded. They’d had this argument enough times before. It wasn’t worth it to push. “Eat more. I don’t care what. Gorge yourself on cake and candy if that’s what it takes. But just… get nutrients into your body. You need the energy. Please, Satoru? For my sake if not your own?”

He scowled, but slumped in defeat and nodded. “Okay. For you,” he agreed. “So you can stop worrying.”

“Thanks. Sleep well, Satoru.”

“You too, Shoko.”

~\0/~

Bright.

Loud.

People. People all over. Too many. Too much danger. Everything… too…

Guide. Close by. Down a quiet street. He had to get to them. That locus of calm, a beacon of safety, a point of rest.

Bright. Loud. Escape, like a wounded animal.

Too bright.

Too loud.

Car coming at ten kilometers an hour, weighing 1,379 kilograms, containing four people with a combined weight of 105 kilograms, steady speed, not deadly but certainly enough to hurt him—no it was not a threat, not a threat, not a threat.

Bright, loud, bright, loud, bright, loud—where was the Guide? He needed—he needed them to—

Here. Here, the Guide was here, in this house. He slapped his palm clumsily against the doorbell. Too loud. He could hear it from outside the door.

The door opened. The Guide stood there.

The Guide… was a tiny child.

He made a small, desolated noise and mumbled, “But you’re a baby,” before he fainted.

~\0/~

Somehow, Yuji caught the strange man as he fell, and yelled frantically over his shoulder, “Grandpa! Grandpa, help!”

His grandfather rushed down the stairs, a dented aluminum baseball bat in one gnarled hand, but froze when he saw that Yuji was supporting the torso of an unconscious man. “Yuji, what—” he began, bewildered.

“I don’t know!” Yuji interrupted. “He just—he just fell, I think he’s hurt, Grandpa we have to call an ambulance!”

Grandpa helped him get the stranger to the sofa, where the old man and the frightened child managed to get him arranged more or less without any twisted limbs. Yuji tried to step away from the stranger, but his hand latched on to Yuji’s wrist, and somehow, Yuji knew that if he broke free, the man would suffer.

“He isn’t bleeding,” Grandpa muttered, inspecting the man suspiciously. “Doesn’t smell like alcohol, either.” Then he noticed how the man was gripping his grandson’s arm, and how Yuji was staring at that scrunched, pained face. “Yuji. Is he one of those special people?”

Yuji nodded, his gaze still riveted on the stranger’s face. This was not the first stranger to seek him out and cling to him, but it was the first time they’d been in such bad shape that they’d passed out. Odd that they always seemed to either wear similar dark uniforms with large brass buttons or be very scary—or, like this man, both at once. But, since he was not the first, Yuji knew what he needed to do.

The ten-year-old boy shuffled closer and put his hands on either side of the strange adult man’s face, ignoring how the man’s arm wrapped loosely around his waist. The man’s breathing was ragged and loud, but steady. He smelled of dry blood, but also expensive cologne, and a little bit like sour candy. Sight, touch, sound, smell… yes, this was enough. Yuji could fix him.

Dad had sung, because Dad had had a good voice and liked music. Yuji recited stories.

“In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit,” he began, keeping his volume low and his tone soft, almost but not quite a whisper. “Not a dirty, nasty, wet hole, full of the ends of worms and an oozy smell; nor yet a bare, dry, sandy hole, with nothing to sit down on or to eat. This hole was a hobbit hole, and that meant comfort.”

He recited the entire first chapter of The Hobbit, word for word, and watched the stranger’s face carefully. The grimace of pain eased away; the furrowed brow smoothed. By the time Yuji reached the end, the stranger was simply asleep. No longer in pain, no longer afraid, no longer lost and confused.

Yuji, however, was exhausted, and felt like he was going to cry. He’d never felt this awful after helping someone. Maybe that was why the man had passed out, though. Yuji removed his hands from the man’s face and backed away, and sat on the coffee table with a thump, like a puppet being dropped.

“I have his phone,” Grandpa said, calling Yuji’s attention. “I’ll call the last person in his contacts. Go to bed, Yuji. You’ve done what you can.”

“No I haven’t,” Yuji said frankly, frowning. “He’s still all torn up inside. I can feel it. Just ‘cause he’s asleep doesn’t mean he’s not still hurt.”

Grandpa smacked Yuji upside the head lightly, making him squeak. “Yes, but you can’t fix everyone, you fool. Go to bed. Rest. You can finish helping him tomorrow before school.”

Yuji sighed, hugged his grandfather tightly, and went to his room. He hoped the man stayed the night. He didn’t like thinking about who might hurt him in his current state.

~\0/~

Shoko frowned at her cellphone. Had Satoru ever called her on a mission? Something must truly be wrong.

“Hey, dumbass, what scrape have you gotten into this time?” she asked as she answered, trying to sound casual. If she answered with worry, he might lie and act like he was fine.

After a strange pause, a very old voice said cautiously, “Are you Shoko?”

Her spine straightened. “That depends entirely on who you are,” she replied coldly, her heart pounding in alarm. “How did you get Satoru’s phone from him?”

“Ah. Well… I am Itadori Wasuke. The owner of this mobile is currently passed out on my sofa. He appears to be ill, but luckily my grandson was able to help him.”

“Ill?” Shoko stood and headed for the door. “Not injured?”

“No, not that I can tell.”

“Your grandson was able to help him, though?” She bit her lip as she tried to think of any sorcerers on the payroll with the last name Itadori… none, none at all. “Is he a Guide?”

“A what?” Wasuke asked blankly. “He just has a knack for calming people down.”

Her heart sank, even as she began to run down the hall to the garage. There was no time for the train, and she had never been good at warping to places she hadn’t been before. “He’s a child, isn’t he? Elementary age.”

“How did you know that?”

“If he were older, he’d be registered. Where is he? Is he alright? If Satoru is passed out, please check on your grandson and make sure that he’s safe. I’ll be in Sendai in a few minutes.”

“You don’t even have our addr—”

Shoko hung up and sprinted the rest of the way. If Satoru had zoned so bad that he’d passed out, something truly awful must have happened. She might have to erase the child’s memory. There was no way an untrained child could pull Satoru of all people from a zone without being damaged.

In the car, Shoko put her phone on speaker and called Ijichi. When he picked up, sounding flustered, she cut across him, “Sorry to bother you, Ijichi-kun, but Satoru zoned, and an unregistered Guide found him. Can you search the Sendai records for an Itadori? They’ll be young, not yet sixteen.”

“Of course, Ieiri-san,” Ijichi replied, all cool efficiency now that he knew the situation. Such a pity that he wasn’t strong enough to be a sorcerer—he kept his head just as well as Nanami, and was twice as tactful. But he was also too good a leader and too incredible at managing to do solo work like sorcery. “Sendai, Itadori, under sixteen. Ah—yes, there is one. A ten-year-old boy. Do you need his address?”

“Please.”

Ijichi rattled it off, and Shoko nodded to herself. That was close to where Satoru’s mission had been. He hadn’t gone far before sensing the Guide. Good. She spared a thought for that poor child, presumably overwhelmed by a strange Sentinel’s zoning; even she couldn’t quite handle Satoru when it got bad, and they were dear friends. She knew that man’s brain better than he did. A little kid, untrained and unknown? She really hoped his grandfather could keep him safe and calm until she got there.

Sendai was far quieter than Tokyo at ten o’clock, but Shoko was still forced to slow down and obey traffic laws. By the time she reached the small, sleepy neighborhood, her teeth hurt from clenching her jaw. Parking on the street, she got out of the car and strode to the door. She could sense Satoru, alright, but… she hesitated, her hand raised to press the doorbell. He didn’t feel zoned. His emotions were calmed… calmer than she’d ever managed to get them.

And the young Guide wasn’t panicking or suffering.

Shoko rang the bell. The door opened in a few minutes, and a tiny old man with a sour expression eyed her critically.

“Itadori Wasuke, I assume?” Shoko asked.

“Yes. He’s still asleep.”

“Good. Your grandson?”

“Also asleep. It’s past his bedtime.”

Shoko frowned, but shook her head. No need to worry if the boy was fine. Satoru was her priority right now. “Alright. May I come in, please? I need to get Satoru back home, and it’ll be easier if I can wake him up.”

“Of course. Please make yourself at home.”

She didn’t really take in the physical appearance of the home, but she did note that the amount of cursed energy was unusually low, and the number of familiar residuals unusually high. She even recognized Mei-san and Utahime-senpai’s signatures, faintly. But overwhelming all of them was Satoru, calmer than he’d been in years, and deeply asleep, sprawled on the sofa.

Shoko knelt next to him, licked her pinky, and stuck the wet digit in his ear.

Satoru jerked awake with a squeal of shock. Shoko ducked his clumsy slap easily, and asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Uh?” Satoru blinked at her, confused. Then his eyes widened, and a look of horror crossed his face. “Oh… fuck. I zoned.”

“Yes, but luckily Itadori-san’s grandkid found you. So--”

“He didn’t.” Satoru sat up, rubbing his face with both hands. “I came to him.”

“...What?”

“I could sense him from across the city,” Satoru said, slightly impatient. “But he’s just a kid. Fuck, is he alright? Did I…”

“He’s fine,” Wasuke interrupted, frowning as Satoru and Shoko both looked at him. “Why are you both so fussed? He’s young, but his father taught him well. This is the first time anyone has sought him out at home, though.”

Shoko bit her lip. Then she asked, “Itadori-san, what do you know about Yuji’s… ability?”

“He inherited it from his father, my son,” Wasuke replied, his frown turning thoughtful. “Jin could calm a crying baby. Yuji can tell what others feel, break through killing rages, and has talked at least three people down from suicide. He’s never been as tired as he was after fixing this one, but he’s bound to have limits. You know more, though.”

“Yes.” Shoko glanced to Satoru. Satoru looked back, made a face, nodded. Shoko turned back to Wasuke and explained, “Yuji is a Guide. Sort of like an empath. I’m a Guide, too, as well as a doctor. It’s highly unusual for a child, especially a young one with no formal training, to be able to pull a Sentinel like Satoru out of a zone without suffering some form of psychological backlash. But… this isn’t the first time he’s done so?”

“No.” Wasuke stroked his chin. “There was that older boy with a scar over his eye and a strange hairstyle, and the woman with blue hair who gave him 600 yen. Lots of people have dropped by the house and told me they’ve met him and wanted to repay his kindness. So far it’s just little things, food and toys and pocket-money; but I am worried for him. He’s too kind. One day he may end up helping someone who won’t be good.”

After a moment, Wasuke asked, “Do you train these… Guides?”

“Not us,” Satoru said softly, “But we graduated from a school that does. We can put in a request that he be considered for enrollment.”

Wasuke nodded, looking relieved. “If you could, I would be grateful,” he said. “Did you want to speak to him? You’ll have to come back tomorrow afternoon; he has school, and I’m not waking him up again.”

“I did, yes,” Shoko said. “May I come by at four?”

While she and Itadori Wasuke discussed when she should come, how long she should stay, and what she should talk to Yuji about (Wasuke insisted Shoko stay for dinner, as thanks for checking on Yuji; Shoko insisted that it wasn’t necessary, any Guide with half a heart would want to make sure he was alright), Satoru put on his glasses and paced the living room, hands in his pockets. When all was decided, the two sorcerers thanked Wasuke and said good night, and left the house. As they were walking to the car, a sleepy young voice called, “Wait! Wass’yer name?”

Shoko turned, surprised, to see a tiny boy with reddish-blond hair and truly enormous eyes hanging out the window, squinting blearily at Satoru. Satoru himself flinched, before hitching on a friendly smile, turning, and answering, “Gojo Satoru. Thanks for your help, Yuji-kun.”

The boy grinned. “You’re welcome, Gojo Satoru,” he replied. “Come back some time! Grandpa makes the best chicken meatballs!”

“I will,” Satoru promised, still smiling.

“Yuji! Get back in bed! You have school tomorrow!”

The boy waved one last time and closed his window. Shoko and Satoru got into the car. Shoko drove much more sedately, and glanced often at her friend. His smile had vanished as soon as the boy couldn’t see him anymore, and now he looked… haunted.

“Would telling me what happened help?” Shoko asked softly.

“Yeah,” Satoru murmured promptly, startling her. “It wasn’t that difficult of a mission. Curses are always easier to exorcise when they’re newly born. But… there were witnesses. Some stupid teenagers getting drunk in the basement. I tried to get them to leave, but they wouldn’t listen, so I thought I’d just herd the curse up to the top floor, away from them. It smashed through seven stories to get to them.” Satoru closed his eyes tightly; Shoko kept her hands on the wheel, even though the rising tide of grief beside her plucked at her attention like a needy child.

“Any survivors?” she whispered.

“No,” Satoru croaked. “I managed to kill the damn thing before it could disfigure the bodies, though. Fuck. I was so stupid, Shoko.”

Shoko pulled over, flicked on the car’s hazard lights, and pulled Satoru into a hug, stroking his hair soothingly. He crumpled against her, breathing harshly. She really couldn’t think of anything to say that would make him feel better; it had been stupid to simply leave those teenagers alone, and it had been arrogant of him to think he could exorcise the curse before it took advantage of its placement directly above helpless children. Grief and shame must be what had tipped him into a zone; Limitless would’ve negated physical stimuli, and Satoru’s hearing was selective at best.

The emotions were overwhelming—but, oddly enough, Satoru wasn’t re-triggered into another zone. Shoko frowned slightly to herself.

“Satoru,” she said slowly, “How far away were you from that boy, Yuji?”

“I don’t know,” he replied dully. “It was at least a mile. I was trying to find the manager who lowered the veil, but…”

Shoko bit her lip, and pressed her face to his hair. She didn’t like the implication of that. A Guide that powerful was the perfect match for Satoru, truly—but Itadori Yuji was only ten. It would be unspeakably cruel to snatch him away from his life here and sequester him at Jujutsu Tech until he was old enough, and trained enough, to bond with Satoru.

But… others had visited him. Others knew him. Why didn’t she and Satoru?

“We both need sleep,” Shoko sighed. “I know the council will want you to write your report while it’s still fresh, but as your doctor and assigned Guide, I think you need to be in bed as soon as possible.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Satoru grumbled, and Shoko giggled.

Upon returning to Tokyo, the two sorcerers grabbed a midnight snack from a corner store and ate in one of the school’s courtyards, silent with exhaustion. Then they went to bed. Shoko hugged Satoru in the hall before they split in opposite directions to their rooms.

“Tomorrow, when you go see Itadori,” Satoru whispered, “Can… can you tell him I said I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

~\0/~

In his dreams, he sat on the cool ground, his head on someone’s knee, as they read to him. Their hand stroked his hair soothingly. They felt like home. There was a thick, warm ribbon of trust and affection and quiet joy connecting their mind to his.

He knew this moment, this positioning. He’d been here before. With Suguru.

How could he bond with anyone, when there was still a raw, gaping wound in his soul where Suguru had been?

~\0/~

Gojo Satoru didn’t visit the next day, but the tired-looking lady in a doctor’s coat did. She introduced herself as Ieiri Shoko, and told Yuji that she had the same ability as him.

“Is that why I can’t tell what you’re feeling?” Yuji asked, tilting his head. It was very unusual for him to not know on sight what someone was feeling, and if they needed his help.

She smiled slightly and shook her head. “No, the reason you can’t tell is because I’m shielding,” she explained. “I don’t do it very often, but I’d rather not overwhelm you.”

“Okay,” Yuji said, even though he really didn’t understand. He got the feeling she was one of those adults who wasn’t used to explaining herself, and he wanted to be polite and not distress her when she was a guest. “How’s Gojo-san? Is he okay?”

“Satoru’s fine,” Shoko assured him. “This isn’t the first time he’s zoned so badly; he’s probably in bed, and he’d better be eating and staying hydrated or I’ll kick his—butt.”

“You can swear, it’s fine. Grandpa says bad words all the time.”

Shoko smiled wider. “What a funny kid you are,” she murmured. “Thanks, Yuji-kun. Satoru is fine, he knows what he’s doing. I’m here to ask how you are, though.”

“I’m fine, too,” Yuji said, frowning a little. “I was really tired last night, and sad, but sleeping helped.”

“That’s lovely and I promise I believe you, but it shouldn’t be possible. Yuji-kun, may I do a quick assessment of your mind? I won’t be able to read your thoughts. I just want to make sure you’re actually alright, and not just blocking off trauma, which will make life much harder for you when you’re older.”

Yuji sighed, but nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Shoko reached forward and rested her fingertips gently against his forehead. Yuji’s spine stiffened as he felt the oddest sensation; almost like those cool, elegant fingertips had sunk through his skull and were resting directly on his brain. It was not painful. In fact, it was… kind of nice. Almost ticklish, but not in the way that made him want to jerk away or squeal.

Shoko’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed a little ‘o’ of shock. Carefully, she retracted her hand, and asked Yuji, “How long have you been helping people, Yuji-kun?”

“Year an’ years,” he replied promptly. “As long as I can remember. It was mostly just Grandpa and my friends at school, but when we moved here a really nice lady with a scar on her face was crying in the park, and she recognized me. Not like, knew me, but she recognized what I could do, and she got really upset ‘cause she thought I’d followed her, but I read to her from my textbook and she calmed down. She brought me candy the next day. I think she said her name was Utahime? She’s come by a few times since, but not for a while.”

“I know Utahime,” Shoko said, beginning to smile. “She’s a teacher, now, so she can’t get away from her students much anymore. Who else have you helped?”

“Lessee… there was the lady with blue hair who gave me money… and then there was the really tall boy, I think he was only a couple years older’n me, but he wasn’t crying or angry, he was, like… laughing, and hitting a guy who was already dead. I got him to stop and wash off the blood, and then a lady who said she was his older sister showed up and thanked me. I don’t think they were related, though. They looked different. He called me “little brother” when he’d calmed down and gave me a Kamen Rider figure. Oh, and there was the old man with a guitar, even older than Grandpa, but he was really strong. He sends me CDs a lot, and sometimes he and Grandpa talk on the phone about old people stuff like politics and music these days.”

Yuji listed off everyone he’d helped, which was… a lot. He remembered all of them. Sometimes Shoko smiled, or looked thoughtful, or raised her eyebrows in surprise; once in a while she would murmur their name, like she knew them personally. Maybe she did, if she had the same ability as him.

It was impossible for Yuji to forget someone once he’d helped them. He didn’t really know what he was doing, but Daddy had said it was something like… blocking out the excess. Yuji didn’t just block excess, though; he absorbed, and sometimes he could feel himself giving back, though it was so instinctive that he wasn’t sure what, exactly, he was giving. He simply knew that, if he could touch someone and speak to them, he could make them feel better. Taking and giving like that felt a little bit like sharing bits of his heart. He didn’t mind, not if it made people happy.

He thought about Gojo Satoru again. How, of all the people he’d helped, Gojo had been the first to be horrified, and call him a baby.

“Shoko-chan,” Yuji began, “Does Gojo not like kids?”

“What do you mean?” Shoko asked, frowning.

“Well… when I opened the door last night, he looked scared, and he said I was a baby, before he passed out. Is he angry at me? He shouldn’t be, not when I was just helping.”

Shoko laughed softly and shook her head. “No, Yuji-kun, he’s not angry at you, and he doesn’t really have any feelings about kids one way or the other. It’s just… Satoru and I aren’t used to kids as powerful as you. He’s never been a good judge of age; he probably thought you were even younger than you are. And, well, it’s a little scary for people like him to realize that someone who can match them in one aspect is a very long ways behind them in others. You’re incredibly powerful, Yuji. So is Satoru. He’s never met someone so young and yet strong—which is a bit funny, because he was the same way.”

“He was?” Yuji asked, eyes widening.

“Yep. Physically gifted, but also his own ability manifested early, and the only Guides who could keep him calm were adults he knew and loved. You, though? A little kid, a stranger, managing to fix that hurricane in his head in just a few minutes? He’s horrified that he forced that on you, and I think he feels bad because he’s so primed to hurt others who aren’t used to him.” Shoko stopped, and smiled crookedly. “You’re too easy to talk to, Yuji-kun,” she admonished lightly. “No wonder so many of the others like you.”

“So you do know them all!”

“Not all. Most. I’m actually pretty new to my position; I only graduated two years ago. Maybe that’s why no one told me about you.” Shoko frowned thoughtfully into the middle distance for a moment, while Yuji considered what that meant. So he was like a secret that people only got to find out about when others decided they were good enough? That sounded fun! He grinned, pleased with his role.

Then he heard himself ask, “Can I come see them all?”

Shoko blinked, startled. “Ah… come again?”

“Can I come see them all?” Yuji repeated. “I wanna make sure they’re all okay. Especially Utahime-chan. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who asks for help, even if she really needs it.”

After a moment, Shoko smiled. “You know what? Sure. What’s your weekend look like, Yuji-kun? I’ll take you to visit Utahime.”

[photozoi]

Hi there, I have always loved scrolling your blog, but I just noticed that Mr Mung is growing VERY large!! He’s got such a broad chest, and he’s just SO so handsome, but he looks like a tank for a silken, compared to your other ones and even the photos of him with his mother, especially at his age! You don’t have to answer, of course, but I’m wondering if he was maybe part of an outcrossing project, back to borzoi? Or is he just an outlier/a really big silken? I ask mostly because I prefer bigger silkens 😄 The little ones are cute and sweet, and size isn’t a dealbreaker for me, but my girl just turned 6 and so I’m starting my (likely very lengthy) search for Next Puppy. My girl is 33lbs and I think was the biggest girl in her litter, and ideally I’d get another her size or even a bit larger. Her breeder is amazing but really favors silkens on the smaller end of the scale.

I always wanted a borzoi (which is how I found your awesome blog), I’m just not equipped for a dog quite that large, so silkens have become my breed. I’m so enamored with your bean boy (and his sisters are also super gorgeous)!! If you’d be willing to share any info about his pedigree or his breeder I would be super grateful, but I know that this sort of ask from a total stranger on the internet can be a bit fraught, so I won’t be offended or anything if you decline to answer. I appreciate all the adorable photos you’ve shared of all your crew over the years! Thanks for your time 😊

First of all, Thank You! You are very kind.

Also, some of the Bean Boy's broad chest is floof... he has a LOT of it! (He does have a very nice front though). He is bigger but not necessarily an outlier... Larger Silkens are becoming more and more common, which is not necessarily a good thing but which should make your quest easier. If you like Borzoi then you probably know that a mature male stands at least 28 inches at the shoulder and weighs 75 to 105 pounds (and that females will be smaller.)

At least 28 inches. Most are 31 or 32. But think about that. The accepted measurements for Silken Windhounds (according to ISWS) are 18.5 -23.5 inches (47-60 cm) at the withers. If you follow the written standards for the breeds that means that (using males as an example) there are only 4.5 inches separating a small Borzoi from a large Silken. The larger a Silken gets, the closer it gets to infringing on Borzoi height. And there are a LOT of Silkens out there that are taller than the standard. (We are only discussing size here, not other conformation considerations.) Americans seem to like things large, so we end up with Borzoi like our Jeep (36 inches at the shoulder) and Silkens that do not fit the written standard. My Silken, the Imp, is within the standard for males and yet I hear a lot about how small he is. (Small only in others eyes, NOT in his own.) The Brother is on the large side of the standard, but no one ever said anything about the possibility of his being too big! I have never made a secret of my dogs sizes or breeding (the Brother is a whopping 50 lbs, the Imp is 30, and the Bean Boy is 43 as of this writing) so here you go:

The Bean Boy and his sisters are from a breeding done by Bijou Silkens (dam) and Satsuma Kennels (sire). Bijou is in Oregon and Satsuma is in Washington State. USA. The Bean Boy is on the large side (like his dad!), his sisters are smaller and weigh about 15 pounds less. They all have nice confirmation and great personalities. The breeders are wonderful and easy to talk to, you can contact them on line. Bijou is a smaller breeder as in does not produce many litters, so depending on your time frame you might try Satsuma first. Remember that if a breeder does not have what you are looking for they probably know someone who does. (And don't get me started on good breeders vs producers!) :D

Did that help at all, or did I totally miss the mark? :D

This ask edited by His IMPerial Majesty, Ruler of ALL the Things and Opinionated Silken.

[jungwon-is-the-one]

Tw: starvation, eating disorders & body shaming

first of all, I think all bodies are perfect. I'm not here to call out anyone. I'm talking on behalf of my personal experiences.

------------------------

My mom was complaining about how all my clothes were getting tighter on me while I was reorganizing my closet.

She kept empasizing the "you gained weight bit," and "no wonder they don't fit you."

I only gained a few pounds because I grew taller. Plus I have wide shoulders so sometimes I struggle to on tight fitted dresses.

I googled the average weight I'm supposed to be at for my age and height, 5'4 (162 cm). Which is roughly 120 lbs (54 kg), and I'm stuck in between 101 (45.8)-105 lbs (47.6 kg).

The pain of hunger eventually becomes too much, so I try scarfing down as much as possible. Though, all that eating was in vain. I've gone back to my ways of purging, my cheeks get puffy from throwing up after every meal so much, and yet again my mom complains about that too. "너 또 살이 찌는구나, 그러지? 보리 다시 통통해지고 있어요. [You're gaining weight again, aren't you? Your cheeks are getting plump again.]"

I'm sick of this, I'm sick of trying to lose weight, but no. I have to. Or else I'm a disappointment. My mom and my own consciousness won't allow me to eat normally anyway.

Heck, I passed out during one of my taekwondo classes. I didn't eat breakfast because my mom told me not to.

The class was about 4 hours total. Four hours. Four hours on an empty stomach. I felt my saliva bubbling in my mouth from how thirsty I was around. I passed out right after my first sparring match. Luckily, my older brother ran onto the mat and caught me before I hit the ground.

And when I woke up, my mom, out of all people, gave me a water bottle and put a wet towel on the back of my neck, just to make it look like I passed out from a heatstroke instead of starvation.

Though, after 15 minutes I had to continue. She gave me no choice to go home early. "수업에 안 가면 휴대폰과 노트북을 압수당합니다, [If you don't go back I'm taking away your phone and laptop,]" she whispered in my ear. I remember word for word. So I did. I endured the rest of the class, which was about another hour or so.

I felt so drained and exhausted when the class was over, hungry especially. I tried to take a nap in the car on the way back home, but the pain from the hunger was too much. So I faked it. I could hear my dad and mom muttering about something. I couldn't hear over the blasting air conditioner.

That's not the first time she's done this. Right before I had to weigh-in for a competition, she forced me not to eat and only drink one insanely small sip everytime I was thirsty. When I would get dizzy from malnourishment, she would tell me to, "Suck it up."

During that, my brother secretly gave me one of his bacon and cheese egg bites from Starbucks. When my mom found out, she screamed at him. And you know what? I still made the cut. By a landslide. The weight bracket was from 99 lbs to 108 lbs - 44.9 kg to 48.9 kg. I was 100.4 lbs then (45.5 kg).

The worst part is, when relatives or other mom's in my taekwondo team would say, "You're so skinny," my mom would lie through her teeth. "I know right, she needs to gain weight. I'm so concerned for her."

Liar. You fucking liar. It's been happening since I started competing. I was ten, when everything started- when everything came crashing down.

My brother helped me through everything. I guess he's not so bad when we're arguing. Thanks, bro. My dad was neutral. He wasn't much of a help. Maybe because he was never fucking there when my mom yelled at me. I'm pretty sure my mom made sure he was never there when she actually did.

My mom often uses KBS against me. "You can't eat this, can't eat that, it'll ruin your image." The only image I've created of myself is the fake one where I glued my smile on. I have to wear that mask of fake bliss, acting like I'm the "perfect daughter" in this messed up family.

I can't bring myself to tell anyone that doesn't know about my mom. My brother already has a lot on his plate too, because it's the exact same, yet completely different situation for him. In my mom's eyes, my brother is "ugly." She tried threatening him into undergoing plastic surgery because "his jawline wasn't sharp enough." Mind you, jawline surgery is one of the most painful plastic surgeries out there.

I tried telling my dad when it first started. But no, I'm "ungrateful", "a brat." "Stop complaining, your mother is just giving tough love." My brother tried as well, only getting a, "well maybe she's right."

I don't want to drag anyone down with me. I can't tell anyone. Or else she'll probably kill me, or at least get me close to it. It's not an understatement. She locked me in the basement once for trying to speak up about it to a counselor at school. I don't know why that fucking counselor thought it would be a bright idea to call my mom and tell her. The bad part being that it was the day before spring break, and my dad was on a business trip the entire time. Spring break an entire week. She locked me down there for an entire week, with only two plastic water bottles to drink from, and a third of a gum pack. The gum was those bland ones that are around 4 caloried per stick. She brainwashed me into making myself limit my calories. When I got hungry down there, I would take a sip of water, rip a stick of gum in half, and deal with the pain. She ignored my cries, my pleads. She hid the key so my brother wouldn't let me out, and somehow made the door knob impossible to lockpick.

I don't know how much I can go longer.

I don't need pity. I just felt like I needed to get it off my chest. If you're reading this bit, thank you. For reading, letting me rant.

[d20unfuckability]

now listen. amethar is a very fuckable lou pc but my only argument is squak. like. that man could fuck you into the next plane and then go casually sip whiskey with his cousin and tell her everything.

lesbians for squak lmfao

i hear you, i really do, but here's the thing about squak- he's "105 pounds wet". he's downright scrawny.

and i weigh literally twice that much. i'd be afraid i was gonna break him.

the hottest thing for me is someone who can throw me the fuck around, and few people fit that bill better than amethar.

[greatwyrmgold]

Dungeon Logistics and Water

A follow-up to my Dungeon Logistics post. Like most fantasy-dungeon-related media, I tacitly assumed that potable water wouldn't be a problem. If your dungeon is full of clean fountains and ponds and stuff, or full of stagnant water that the mage can easily purify, you don't need much water storage.

But if you do? Well, that can cause problems.

The Problem

How much water do people need? That depends on a lot of factors, but the rule-of-thumb estimate for soldiers on the move seems to be about 6-7 pounds of water. (Let's round up to seven—waterskins aren't weightless.)

Mules need something like 85-105 pounds of water. Luckily, you can get away with dehydrating them a little between bodies of water; most pack animals endure short periods without water better than humans. According to my "research," if you stop every 2-3 days to let the mule drink a lot, you probably don't need to water it much in between.

If absolutely no water is available in the dungeon, operational range collapses. The ~30 pounds of supplies a dungeoneer can cover ten days of food, or three days of food and water. A porter can carry a month of food, or ten days of food and water. Two porters and three dungeoneers can last twenty days if they only need to carry food; they'd struggle to last six days if they need water, too.

For the three dungeoneers/two porters/one mule group I've arbitrarily picked as a standard, the maximum operational endurance is about eight days. A second mule increases this to ten days, a third to twelve, a fourth to thirteen. Carrying two weeks of food and water requires more mules than people.

Oases?

If pure (or purifiable) water is sporadically abundant—big springs of water separated by dry corridors or caves—you just need to carry enough water for the humans to drink between watering holes. (Of course, you're in danger of dehydrating if you can't find water as often as you expected...)

If you need to carry two days of water at a time, a dungeoneering group can last about two-thirds as long as if they didn't need to worry about water.

This assumes they don't have any pack animals on a "feast-and-famine" watering schedule. Adding one mule to that three-dungeoneer-two-porter group has surprisingly little effect, only boosting their operational endurance from ~14 days to ~16. But adding a mule to a five-dungeoneer group boosts their endurance from five days to twelve. With a second mule, those groups' endurance increase to 17 and 14 days, respectively. If you keep adding mules, the group's endurance is mostly limited by their hunger for hay, topping out around 18 days.

If oases are much scarcer than that, you need to start carrying water for the mules, and mules drink a lot more than people. If the "standard" group has to go four days between oases, carrying four days' of water for themselves and about 1.5 for the mule, they can carry about ten days' worth of food (which weighs only slightly more than the water).

Incidentally, if that "standard" group left their mule at home, they could still carry about ten days of food. If oases are separated by five days or more, they should probably leave the mules at home—including a mule cuts two days off of their operational efficiency. Unless they resort to...

Butchery (again)

In the distant past, when two-wheeled carts were the height of logistical technology, armies had two choices. First, they could stick to places where water was abundant; this was usually easy, since most things worth throwing armies at also need water. Second, they could kill a lot of pack animals.

The plan is simple. Step one, load up your worst livestock with as much water (and food) as they can carry. Step 2, march through somewhere no sane general would take an army. Step 3, don't give your pack animals enough water; abandon them once you've drunk all the water off their back. Step 4, reach somewhere with better water supplies before you run out of pack animals and/or soldiers.

If you sacrifice one mule per three humans, they can carry all the food and water those humans need for the first three days of their journey. They won't be much good for food if you haven't been feeding or watering them, but this gives you a logistical head start.

What if you want to take this farther? Well, the second set of mules will need to be fed and watered at least a bit on the way out; that will increase your mule needs by about 50%. So a group of six humans would need two sacrificial mules for a three-day head start, and three more for another three days.

Anyone familiar with Tsiolkovsky rocket equation can see where this is going.

Do you want a nine-day logistical head start? A third set of mules probably needs to be fed and watered for the first week or so of the journey, which requires about two and a half mule-loads of extra supplies per mule. Those two and a half mules don't need to be fed for quite as long, so they probably only need around one and a quarter mules, who you can get away with starving. A six-human group would need ten mules, on top of the five they needed to get a six-day head start.

Getting a twelve-day head start would need something like four mules per person, and a muleteer ("guy who makes mules go where you want them to go") can only handle five at most. Any farther and your expedition is just a mule-corpse-delivery service.

And of course, this strategy doesn't result in clean cuts of mule meat to alleviate your supply burdens—keeping the mules healthy means bringing way more supplies with you, which defeats the whole purpose of butchering mules. Human food is a rounding error on this trail of waterskins and blood.

Conclusion

We need a lot of water to live, and water is heavy. Pack animals don't need water as urgently as humans, but when they need it, they need even more.

If the dungeon has no water, it's basically impossible for a group of dungeoneers to last more than a week, unless they're willing to leave a lot of dead mules behind. If water is only sporadically available, the dungeoneers need to carry a fair amount of water with them; if water is scarce enough, pack animals become a liability.

On the surface, rivers and wells and lake-fed springs provide abundant water almost anywhere humans want to go. Dungeons are another story. And unlike food, it's usually hard to extract significant quantities of water from monsters you slay. Sure, you can drink blood if you have to, but that can cause problems, and draining all the blood from a giant bat is easier said than done.

Senshi has the right idea: Stay away from dry dungeons.

[lyfeofrina]

my mom said she notices im skinnier and this is such a flex bc she only points out when im getting big so there must be a noticeable difference ^.^!! i weigh 119 i cant wait to be 115 and then 110 ^.^

also im gonna see this girl i really like on Wednesday and i wanna look skinny for her :>> she says im perfect but cmon we can always be more perfect 😝😝

also the only bad thing about being with a girl is that they are generally smaller than men so now i have to be A LOT more skinny 😞😞 like maybe 105?? 100? idk i want to look skinny and small next to her since shes skinny :>>

but ya this is my recent body pics :>> please let me know where yall think i need to lose more weight so i can exercise those parts of the body :)

[ranaiki]

Random Obscure Things You Can’t Do with a Tongue Piercing:

I made this list for fun, but who knows, maybe it’ll be useful for fellow writers or anyone weighing the pros and cons of getting a tongue piercing...

1. Play poison dart frog :(

2. Blow bubbles with bubble gum

3. Lick a beater (doable, but that mfer gets caught on all the prongs)

4. Stick your tongue out at people (normally), or do so without looking like a fool. I used to do it habitually, it was like a whole thing, but it becomes much harder cause you have to allow room for the piercing to pass through your teeth as well, and its much less forgiving than a squishy tongue.

5. Get hairs from your mouth easily? Idk. It gets wrapped around the stem and for some reason they’re just really hard to pull off.

6. Have normal levels of spit. I’ve never in my life had issues with producing too much saliva but I do now. Drooling becomes wayyy too easy and I spit while talking on accident. I don’t think this happens to everyone, but it’s a known thing.

7. Lick/eat popsicles and ice cream bars easily. It can hurt when it gets super cold, and also gets caught on things. This subsides the longer you have it, and might also only apply to people who are more sensitive. Like my teeth? Cannot handle the cold, so naturally my tongue struggles too. Easy way around it - just use your lips instead but it’s still not the same as before (and this doesn’t apply to ice cream biters... you heathens)

8. Keep your tongue in your mouth! (Jokes) It’s addicting to play with, and for someone like me who can’t help but fidget, I often play with the piercing without even noticing.

9. Blow raspberries (might be possible depending on placement)

10. Kiss without it hitting the other persons teeth. It made for a very strange first kiss imo, but it becomes easier with practice.

11. Do tongue tricks.... so sad my skills have gone to waste. Hot dog is about all I can do now, but once upon a time I could do clover, 180°, spoon, and the s-shaped one.

12. Be seen as a prude. A lot of people jump to the dirty side once they see it, but not all!

13. Make the waterdrop sound with your mouth. Another one that’s kind of doable, but really difficult. Used to be able to do it and impress people but alas no longer

14. It can be uncomfortable to lick something solid? Not that you ever do that much anyways... but like, say you lick someone’s arm or a wall or something - it’s much more likely to drag along the surface, and it tugs a little. It doesn’t hurt, just not super comfy. Squishy things are fine tho lol

15. Same idea as no.14, but licking things that aren’t very lickable is also very uncomfortable, even more so than solid things. Like blankets, fabric, paper... you get my drift. And yes, this is tried and tested. You’re welcome.

16. Always be 105% comfortable with the piercing. You get used to it, and barely even notice it most of the time, BUT, and it’s a big but, every once in a while it can feel so overwhelming. Like, if I’m overstimulated, half the time my body pinpoints on it, since its always in my mouth. There have been times I’ve wanted to rip it out because I was so overwhelmed, but of course as soon as I calm down, it feels fine again.

17. Eat super sticky things. It’s fine for the most part, but can get tricky. I have a hard time with Starbursts – they like to wrap around the piercing stem, which is hard to deal with! Jolly Ranchers are also more difficult, as the piercing sticks to the candy and then gets pulled when it moves.

18. More to come!!