#later days homeostasis

[ereardon]

His Best Friend's Wedding Epilogue [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

Overview: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right? 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Chapter summary: Two years after confessing the night before your wedding that he was in love with you, Bradley is faced with major changes – your divorce, and the birth of your child. You have a confession for him: you always loved him, too.

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy, childbirth, mention of cheating, alcohol, violence

See the full masterlist for the miniseries here

WC: 4.5K

You stood in the doorway, hand frozen in midair. Fear tightened your chest. 

How many times had you knocked on Bradley’s door before? Mostly you let yourself in, key slipped in the lock as seamlessly as if it were your own house. The bungalow was warm and inviting and you knew practically every turn, every creaky hardwood plank, every scratch on the wall. 

The dent on your ring finger stared back at you as your hand hovered an inch from the wood door. It felt odd. Bare. And while at first, the rings had felt heavy, like an omen, you were surprised to find that the absence of them didn’t feel light or freeing. 

It felt like homeostasis. 

After a moment, your fingers landed against the soft wood of the door. It opened instantly. Bradley’s warm eyes met yours. 

You looked up. 

“Come inside, Ace.” 

***

Bradley watched you kiss Jeremy on the altar. He had to sit there and give his best man speech at the wedding even though his hands shook the entire time and he couldn’t look either of you in the eye. He felt the prickle of jealousy and anger under the collar of his tux as you and Jeremy ran through the crowd toward the vintage convertible your father had lent the two of you as your getaway car.

Through gritted teeth, Bradley watched the milestones in your life from a short distance. Photos of your honeymoon in Tahiti. Your first house as a married couple. 

He was there the day the stick turned pink. 

Jeremy, as it turns out, was on assignment. You called Bradley without a second thought. “Brad,” you whispered into the phone. “Come over.” 

He could hear the anxiety in your voice. He was in his car before he even had time to tie his shoes, driving the familiar route without really seeing it. He could find his way to you with his eyes closed. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub when he arrived, barreling through the door without knocking, shoving into the bathroom. The door flung open. He dropped down to kneel in front of you.

“Ace?” 

You smiled gently. “I couldn’t do this on my own.” You pointed to the test, wrapped up on the counter. Bradley sucked in a breath. He had known this was coming. You and Jeremy had been married for two years. You had always wanted a family. 

“Want me to open it?” he asked. You nodded. Bradley reached for the rest, rotating the plastic wrapper in his hands, pinching the plastic end with his large fingertips before pulling it slowly out of the sheath, reading the tiny white oval face. 

“Brad?” you whispered. Every nerve in your body was on fire. Fear bubbled in your chest. 

He smiled softly. “You’re going to be an amazing mom.” 

You sagged and Bradley caught you immediately, the two of you crouched on the bathroom floor, your arms flung around Bradley’s neck, his fingertips pressing tightly against your skin. He could feel your tears soaking the cotton of his shirt where your face was scrunched against his shoulder, but he didn’t care. He had never cared. He knew they were tears of joy. 

Bradley was the first person you called for most things. The day you got a flat tire on I-5 headed to Santa Clarita for a girls trip. The time you twisted an ankle at the grocery store and he showed up fifteen minutes later with a pair of flat shoes and an ice pack. 

Bradley was the person you called when everything went to hell with Jeremy. 

“I can’t fucking do this anymore!” you screamed, throwing a cup across the room, letting it shatter into a million pieces. 

Jeremy’s face was hard like stone. “You’re being insane, Y/N,” he said. 

“Insane? Insane?” You whipped around to face him, cheeks red with anger. “You’re gone all the time, Jer. You don’t answer your phone. I hear from other wives that you’re hanging out at bars on the base with random people including women I don’t know. How do you think that makes me feel?” 

“That’s the fucking job, Y/N. I’m a Naval lieutenant commander. I have responsibilities. I have duties. I have people I owe my life to.” 

“To me!” you shouted. “You owe your life to me, Jer! We stood up in front of three hundred people and promised ourselves to each other. Our time, our energy, our commitment.” 

“I’m in the military, babe, I have commitments.” 

You shook your head, tears flooding your eyes. “Maybe you’re the kind of man who can only have one.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means,” you whispered, “that maybe I’m not your top priority anymore.” 

Jeremy was silent. His silence said more than words ever could. 

You wiped at your tears. “I’m going out.” 

“When will you be back?” 

“Maybe I won’t.” 

“Don’t you fucking do that,” he said and there was ice in his words. “Don’t you fucking throw all of this away.” 

“You’re the one throwing it away,” you said, opening the door. “I’m just following your lead.” 

***

Bradley hated when you showed up at his door, tears in your eyes, an overnight bag packed and sitting at your side. 

He hated it more when you didn’t show up at all. Because that meant he was just one more step from losing you, all over again. 

The night that you found out about the baby, with Jeremy overseas, you asked Bradley to stay at the house. The two of you sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, Buddy your rescue labrador’s head buried in Bradley’s lap, one of his large hands stroking the dog's velvety ears. 

“Brad?” you asked, leaning your head against one hand, elbow pressed against the overstuffed sofa cushion. 

“Hmm?” 

“We don’t talk about it,” you said. 

“Talk about what?” 

“The wedding,” you whispered. “Everything that happened the night before.” 

Bradley’s eyes widened. It had been two years, four months, and sixteen days. He had thought about it every single day since he watched you float down the aisle toward him, only to say yes to Jeremy. You were still the first thing he thought of when he woke up and the last thing on his mind as he drifted off to sleep. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” 

“I still love you,” Bradley said and you sucked in a breath. That felt like a punch to the gut. You placed one hand over your stomach, which he misinterpreted. “I’m sorry,” he added. “I know you belong to Jer. And I want you to be happy, Ace. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He paused. “I know you have everything you could ever want now. Maybe I don’t fit in to your life anymore.” 

“Don’t say that.” You were on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Buddy grunted and squeezed out from between the two of you, sulking off to his bed in the corner. You felt Bradley’s hands, warm, tighten on your back. He felt like coming home. “You will always fit into my life. Always. No matter what.” 

“I thought you’d hate me,” he whispered. “For saying all of that to you before the wedding.” 

You pulled back, tears in your eyes. “Bradley Bradshaw. I will never hate you a day in my life.” 

***

Your bare hand fell to your stomach, warm and round and hard, as you stood awkwardly in the foyer of Bradley’s house. 

He stood with his arms dangling at his sides. “So.” 

This wasn’t the reunion you wanted. You weren’t sure what you wanted. For everything to disappear. For the last decade to be erased. 

To have chosen Bradley that night in that Annapolis dive bar instead of Jeremy. 

You stepped closer. “I left.” 

“Ace,” he whispered. 

You shook your head. “For good. He signed the papers.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “It’s over.” 

“Oh.” Bradley could barely breathe. He was afraid of moving, in case it was all a dream and you faded away into the background, out of his grasp. 

“Brad,” you whispered, reaching out, putting one hand against his cheek, soft cool skin against his warm flesh. You could feel the grittiness of his stubble beneath your fingertips. “I was wrong to choose Jeremy. At the wedding. That first night at the bar. Every night since.” 

“What are you saying, Y/N?” he murmured. 

“I’m saying I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I’m saying that I still love you.”

***

The day it all came to a head was a year after the wedding. You and Bradley were in the living room when Jeremy stomped in, eyes wide with rage. He held up a credit card bill in one hand. 

“Y/N.” His voice boomed along the walls. You cowered. “What the fuck?” 

“What’s going on?” Bradley’s mouth was pulled into a tight line. 

“None of your business, Bradshaw,” Jeremy spat. “This is between me and my wife.” 

“Don’t like the tone you’re taking, Jer.” You were thankful for Bradley in that moment. 

Jeremy stepped closer. You could smell the sharp acidity of alcohol on his breath. “I said, back off, Bradshaw. This is between me and Y/N.” He turned to you. “What the fuck is this charge?” 

“What charge?” 

“This.” He shoved the paper right beneath your nose. “Some hotel in Miami.” 

You rolled your eyes. “That was for Kelly’s bachelorette.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “Don't lie to me.” 

“Why the fuck would I lie to you?” you demanded. “You’re the one who cheats in this relationship, not me.” 

You never saw his hand shoot out. But it didn’t land on your cheek like it was meant to. Instead, faster than you could even see, Bradley stepped between the two of you, Jeremy’s slap landing across his face. Bradley’s left arm wrapped back around you, making sure you were tucked safely behind him. 

A quietness enveloped the room. 

And then Bradley’s voice. “Y/N,” he said gruffly. “Get in the car.” 

“I—”

“Get in the car,” he repeated. You backed up, eyes on the two of them as you grabbed your phone and made your way for the door. 

As you were slipping your shoes on, you heard Bradley’s voice. Low and harsh. You had never heard him sound like that before. 

“You ever, I mean ever, lay a fucking hand on her, next time you see me I’ll be standing over your grave,” Bradley hissed. 

Jeremy’s shoulders sagged. They were practically brothers. But there was something definitive about Bradley’s tone. “Baby, I didn’t mean–”

“Get yourself together, Jer,” Bradley said, turning, his eyes falling on you. “You don’t deserve her.” 

***

“What happened?” Bradley whispered. 

You felt your shoulders droop. “I left him,” you said. “We both know I had to.” Your hands fell to your stomach: bloated, uncomfortable, eight months wide. “For me. And her. Or him.” 

Bradley ran one hand over his face, pulling at the small creases near the sides of his eyes. “Ace. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

“I’m not.” You looked at the living room. “Can I sit? I’m huge.” 

“Oh, God, of course.” Bradley rushed to throw a pillow and blanket from the couch and make room for you. He held your hand, easing you down onto the couch. 

“I’m sorry it took so long to realize,” you said as Bradley settled into the seat next to you, his brown eyes warm and wide. 

“Realize what?” 

“I think you know.” 

***

“You’re making a mistake.” Bradley was drunk, and so were you. The diamond on your left hand glittered under the dim light outside the bar where the two of you had bummed stray cigarettes from one of the barbacks in the alley.

“What, this?” you asked, flicking the cigarette as ash fluttered to the ground. “I’m so fucking hammered I won’t remember this tomorrow so it doesn’t really count, right?” 

He shook his head, dropping the cigarette and stomping it out beneath one foot. “Marrying Jeremy.” 

You sucked in a breath. Too hard, choking on smoke. Bradley slapped your back, his fingertips warm across your bare skin, until you could breathe normally. You frowned up at him. “What’s gotten into you?” 

“He’s not good enough,” he said. 

“What the hell?” you demanded. “It’s been eight years, Bradley. You waited eight years to tell me that you think I shouldn’t marry him?” 

“I told you from day one,” he said, “that you were better off without him.” 

“This is cruel.” A tear slid from your eye and you felt the edge of the cigarette burning your skin. Instead of dropping it, you let the heat invade your fingertip. It wasn’t the only thing on fire. “You’re doing this to hurt me.” 

“Ace,” he whispered. “No. I’m doing this to keep you from getting hurt.” 

“The only thing that’s hurting me is you, Bradley.” You dropped the cigarette, letting it tumble to the ground, watching Bradley’s face fall alongside it. You stepped out of the light and into the shadows, disappearing into the night. 

***

The lights were hot. Your dress felt too tight and itchy. Jeremy’s hands were slick with sweat as the two of you twirled around the dance floor, messing up your choreographed dance not once but twice. You tried to laugh it off but it felt like an omen. No matter how much practice, you still couldn’t get it right. 

After a while, the song flowed into the next and other couples flooded the dance floor. 

A hand appeared on Jeremy’s shoulder. He turned, Bradley’s face hovering over his shoulder. “May I cut in?” 

Jeremy nodded, smile wide, innocence across his face. He had no idea that twenty-four hours before, his best friend had been confessing his love for you. 

He had no idea that you hesitated on that altar. 

“Of course.” Jeremy let his fingertips drop from your waist. He planted a kiss, chaste, on your lips. “Be good, babe. You’re a married woman now.” He turned to Bradley with a grin. “All yours, Bradshaw.” 

Bradley’s hands were warm. He guided you confidently in a loose circle around the dance floor. There was an effortless confidence to the way Bradley danced. But it wasn’t only dancing. There was confidence in everything about him. You trusted him, with everything. 

“Ace,” he said quietly. 

You looked up. “Don’t,” you whispered. “Let’s just dance, OK? There’s nothing else to say.” 

“OK.” 

You leaned your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his tux. When you closed your eyes, everything else — the lights, the music, the heat — faded away. 

It was just the sound of his heart beating in your ear, guiding you in the darkness. 

***

“You can stay here,” Bradley said, standing up. “For as long as you want.” 

You frowned. “I can’t ask you to do that. The baby is coming any day now. It’ll keep you awake, day and night.” 

“Your snoring does that already.” 

It was the first air of mirth in the conversation. You grinned. “Shut up.” 

Bradley’s mouth returned to its set shape, a thin line. “I’ll get the guest room ready for you.” 

“Brad.” You were on your feet, wobbling. He reached out instinctively, one hand on your arm, balancing you. “I don’t think you’re hearing me.” 

“I am,” he replied. “But you got divorced, what, fifteen minutes ago? I’ve waited fifteen years for you, Ace. I can wait another day or two or one hundred. I need to know that I’m not your backup. That I’m not just your plan B when everything else goes to shit.” 

“You’re not.” 

“I need to know that you actually want me,” he said quietly. “Because there’s nothing I want more in this world than you.” 

***

For three weeks, you slept in Bradley’s guest room. Sleeping was an exaggeration of what you were actually doing, which was grunting and turning over like a beached whale every five minutes, and going to the bathroom in between. 

And then, in the middle of the night, you felt it. 

“Brad!” you yelled. The door flung open a second later, shirtless Bradley standing in the doorway, the hallway light illuminating him from behind, hair a mess, eyes wide. 

“What?” 

You looked up with glee. “It’s happening. The baby’s coming.” 

The entire drive to the hospital, Bradley was death gripping the wheel. He looked so terrified that the nurses took one look at him and laughed before showing you to the L&D room. He paced across the room a thousand times as you went through all of the checks, breathed through the contractions, winced as they inserted your IV. 

“Bradley,” you said, tossing your head back against the flat pillow. “You need to stop. You’re making me sick.” 

“Fuck, sorry.” He sat down on the chair, bouncing his knee. “Honey? I gotta ask.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Should I call Jeremy?” 

The two of you hadn’t spoken since the divorce was finalized. But Bradley had a point. Jeremy was, technically, the baby’s father. He deserved to know. “Yeah. I guess.” 

“I’ll be right back.” He slipped out of the room and you laid back against the bed, eyes pressed shut. 

The pain started to increase and by the time Bradley returned you were sweating. 

“Ace? Should I call the nurse?” 

You shook your head. “No, I’m fine.” 

“You don’t look fine.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“You know what I mean,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful woman that ever existed.” 

“Even now?” 

He grinned. “Especially now.” 

Your fingertips closed around his, just as the door pressed open. Jeremy stood in the doorway with a bouquet of flowers. His eyes immediately landed on your fingers intertwined with Bradley’s. He stepped inside, setting the flowers down on the table against the wall. “Y/N.” 

“Jer.” 

“I’ll be outside,” Bradley said, letting his fingers slip away. You nodded. He gave Jeremy a wide berth. You frowned. The two of them had been so close. You had even watched them kiss each other once while drunk and as part of a draft bet. But there was an icy wall that surrounded the two of them now. 

All three of you. 

Jeremy sat in the chair that Bradley had vacated. He reached up to put his hand on your stomach and you let him. Under the fluorescent lights, his gold ring glinted. 

“How are you?” he asked. 

“Uncomfortable.” 

“Did they give you the epidural yet?” 

“No,” you replied. “And I wasn’t just talking about the labor.” 

He let out a sigh. “Listen, Y/N, I fucked up. I know that. But this is our baby.” Jeremy paused. “No matter what happened between us, I want to be a part of this child’s life.” 

“You’re the baby’s father,” you said. “Of course you’ll be in their life.” 

Jeremy paused. “And Bradshaw?” 

“What about him?” 

He cocked his head to one side. “So you two are a thing?” 

Your eyes widened. “What? No.” 

“Y/N.” 

“He’s my best friend. He’s always been my best friend.” 

“And mine,” Jeremy reminded you. “So trust me when I say, there were always three people in this marriage. And I was the odd one out.” 

“Nothing ever happened,” you whispered. “Not while we were married.”

“But after?” he asked. 

You grimaced. “Before. New Orleans. The wedding you couldn’t make.” 

He nodded. “I guess a part of me always knew. I had hoped you’d pick me. And you did, for a while. But you were always his.” 

“I wanted to be yours,” you whispered. “I was yours. And you blew it.” 

“I know.” Jeremy’s head hung low. He looked up at you through those dark lashes. “I should have stepped aside that first night, at the bar in Annapolis. I saw how he looked at you. But I wanted you for myself. And I never was good at turning down an opportunity.” 

“You are both going to be in my life,” you said. “Because you’re both in this baby’s life. So you’ll have to find a way to work it out.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Me too.” 

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked. Six months before, you would have scoffed at the thought that Jeremy wouldn’t be there for the birth of his child. But that was then. 

Everything had changed. You shook your head slowly, watching the color drain from Jeremy’s face. “I’ll call you after,” you whispered. “I just think this is something I have to do alone.” 

His face hardened. “But you’re not going to be alone, are you? Bradshaw will be here.” 

“Don’t be jealous of Bradley.” 

“It’s only fair,” he replied, standing up. “Bradshaw was jealous of me for the last fifteen years. I guess it’s my turn to be jealous.” 

“Jer.” 

He turned from where he stood at the doorway. His eyes roamed over you and you knew he was letting it all sink in. This was the last time he would ever look at you and see you carrying his child inside your womb. “Yeah, baby?” 

“I hope it’s a girl,” you confessed. 

“If she’s just like you, then we’ll be the luckiest parents in the world.” 

***

 “You got this, Ace. You’re doing amazing.” 

Bradley’s hand was being slowly crushed in your death grip. He pushed a few sweaty strands of hair out of your face. “I can’t do it,” you groaned, leaning back against the pillows. “Bowling ball-sized heads are not supposed to come out of your hooha. It’s just physics.” 

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, honey, but I think it’s a little late to turn around.” 

“I feel like I’m shitting out a block of explosives. Now I know what those fucking prisoners at Alcatraz felt like trying to dig their way out with spoons.” 

Bradley smirked at your side as the nurses around your ankles giggled. “At least you’re funny right now.” 

“Well you can be funny or hot and considering I have a baby wedged in my pelvis I would say I’m not exactly Bachelorette material right now.” 

“You’re doing great.” 

You squeezed Bradley’s hand, so tight his mustache twitched, but he didn’t complain. “Promise me something,” you gasped. 

“Anything.” 

“You’ll never leave us.” 

He frowned. “Of course not.” 

“Swear it.” 

“Ace.” He leaned in close, your faces only a few inches apart. “I haven’t stopped thinking of you since the night we met fifteen years ago. That’s not going to change anytime soon.” 

You looked at him. “OK. I’m ready.” 

“It’s time to push.” The doctor at the end of the bed slid on a pair of gloves. “Y/N, give me a big breath and then a push, OK?” 

You bared down, gripping Bradley’s hand. Hard. You had fought for a lot of things in your life.  A spot on the volleyball team in high school. Your MBA program. Your marriage. But this was a fight you had been preparing for. 

The moment the doctor held your screaming, crying daughter into the air, you burst into tears. She was covered in goo and wailing like a banshee and she was the most magnificent thing you had ever laid eyes on. 

They placed her on your chest, eyes scrunched shut, covered in blood and a number of other things but all you could do was stare at her in awe. 

“Would you like to cut the cord?” The doctor held up a pair of medical scissors. Bradley looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for permission. You nodded and he took the silver scissors in his large hands, practically shaking as she showed him how to cut the spongy cord. 

In your arms, your daughter squirmed. She was so impossibly small. And soft. The nurses took her away for a few minutes to run tests and wipe her off, and by the time you had her back in your arms the rest of the staff had cleared out of the room. 

You looked up at Bradley who hadn’t stopped staring at her since the moment she was born. 

“Brad?” He lifted his gaze to you, eyebrows raised. “Would you like to hold her?” 

He looked pale and nervous, but excited as you carefully shifted her into his arms as the two of you sat side-by-side on the hospital bed. She looked even smaller when cradled against Bradley’s chest. He held her tiny feet in one hand, stroking them slowly, her small mouth in a rounded “o” but no sound came out. There was a feeling of content to being in Bradley’s arms. 

You knew it well. 

“She’s perfect,” he whispered. “Have you picked a name?” 

You smiled. “Yes. Carolina. Carol for short.” 

When Bradley looked up, there was a glassy sheen to his brown eyes. You watched as his lips beneath his mustache trembled. “Thank you.” 

“Marry me.” It spilled out of your mouth. 

“Ace.” It was a whisper. Thin and pained. “Honey.” 

You shook your head. “I’m serious. Marry me. It’s always been you, Roo. Even when it wasn’t.” 

“You just had a baby,” he whispered. “You’re emotional and tired and it’s only been two months since the divorce.” 

“I know what I’m saying.” You looked down at your daughter. “She needs you in her life. Just as much as I do.” 

Bradley brushed his thumb along her forehead. “She’s half you. Which means she’s half me, too. You’ve owned a piece of me, Y/N, since the night we met.”

“So marry me.” 

“Don’t you need time to think?” he asked. “Don’t you need to heal? Find yourself? All that crap people talk about. Dye your hair purple. Go to Italy and meet some douchebag and learn how to fly helicopters and sell your house and buy a condo downtown.” 

You smiled at him softly. “You asked me once, on a very important night, if he made me as happy as you make me. And the truth is, Brad, there’s only one other person who makes me as happy as you. And she’s sitting right there against your chest.” As if on cue, Carolina cooed in Bradley’s arms. “All I know is that I wasted fifteen years without ever really having you. I don’t want to waste another minute.”

Gently, Bradley stood, placing your daughter into the bassinet next to the bed. He laid her down gently, hovering over her delicate body, making sure she didn’t fuss, before leaning over you, one large hand pushing back the hair that had fallen into your face. “I’ll marry you today, tomorrow, next year, in fifty years. As long as I know you’re mine.” 

“I’m yours,” you whispered as Bradley inched nearer, his lips grazing yours. “Today. Tomorrow. Forever.” 

His lips sealed around yours. For the first time in your life, you felt whole. 

Note: Special thanks to anyone who read parts 1 and 2 when I posted them last year. I got an itch to write an epilogue to this, hopefully it lives up! xx

Tag list: @double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav @minamisulemisa @shawnsblue @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @brehonodea @babyminghao @crthurston @angelbabyangee @secretsicanthideanymorey

@taytaylala12 @mizzzpinkink @wkndwlff @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @shanimallina87 @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @rosewritesitout @atarmychick007 @khaylin27

@wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirll @rosiahills22 @teacupsandtopgun @sexythollandd @djs88911 @rxmtoon @darkestbeforethedawn166 @cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46

@louie-bugug @arson-tmm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation @fudge13 @phantomxoxo @a-court-of-roscoe-and-babyy @not-two-shrimp @xoxabs88xox @abaker7474 @evans-dejong @mandylove1000 @xomrsalliej4787xo @gretagerwigsmuse @gigisimsonmars @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @katiedid-3 @seresinslady @sordidfairytale @lets-turn-and-burn @bebeofimladris @mandylove1000 @mamachasesmayhem @na-ta-sh-aa

[sloanerisette]

Fic For Odaiba Day 2024: In Regula Angeli

Hi everyone! Happy Odaiba Day... 2! Now that it's the actual Odaiba Day here, I'm here to post my SECOND fic I'm premiering this year!

As always, I'm happy to write for the Digimon fandom and I'm happy to have become part of it here on tumblr, even just in a small way! So here we are with the second fic: a 02 AU where Kari acts as a Digimon Emperor alongside Ken!

Title: In Regula Angeli Summary: Order must be brought to the Digital World. The partnership between human and Digimon will inevitably be too dangerous to remain unchecked. As a tyrant from the human world yearns to assume complete control, Homeostasis comes up with a plan to protect the order it serves, and it has the perfect subject in mind to enact it.

Big thanks as always to Camp Digimonth for the support for all my writing and the help everyone is always happy to offer, as well as to SluggyBasson107 for reading the first chapter here and for a lot of help with bouncing thoughts off of and some extra special stuff later on~! Thanks y'all, much love and appreciation <3

I'll post a blurb under the read more, but you can find the whole fic on AO3 HERE!

The Digidestined were a necessity to fix the problems with the Digital World two and a half years ago. Devimon, the Dark Network, Myotismon, the Dark Masters, Apocalymon, they would’ve all destroyed the very fabric of their world. But no, the Digidestined had helped avert that with the help of their Digimon. The world had been corrected, and the humans had been sent off to their home.

The worlds weren’t meant to touch ever again.

Then, a newcomer arrived. One who found his own Digimon partner. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Of all the knowledge it had of the Digital World, near limitless information feeding in from every inch of the world, this wasn’t accounted for. The Digital World was safe now, there was no need for another human. Even if this human and his Digimon partner helped keep the world safe, that didn’t change the fact that humans and Digimon needed to be separated. Permanently.

With the human now gone, peace had settled again, and Digimon were able to live as they were meant to. But unfortunately, it wasn’t the last time.

But then that human came back. Much, much worse than before. He called himself the Digimon Emperor, used strange technology to subjugate Digimon, and erected disgusting monoliths to stake claim to the world.

Its world.

This could not continue. At the rate this false ruler of the Digital World was working, the entire Digital World would fall under his rule in no time. This proved to it one thing: Digimon and humans could not continue to interact. Their bonds were too dangerous. The Digidestined were a fluke, a gambit designed solely to stop greater foes. Humans could not be trusted enough to maintain these partnerships. No, they had to be driven from the Digital World entirely. This world was meant only for the Digimon.

But that left the question: how.

Without a physical form, it couldn’t even attempt to put up a fight against this emperor, let alone stop him completely. There had to be some solution. A way to rally against the Digimon Emperor and break the slowly growing stranglehold he was rapidly achieving.

…

…

…

That was it.

One option. No, one solution.

Now it was just a matter of setting the gears in motion.

[icharchivist]

In a way, present day Sandalphon is a great foil to Lucilius, because he also doesn't get answers from the god-like figure he looks to, but Sandalphon knows that his creator loves him and loves him back

TRUUUUE.

Like i mean, Sandalphon and Lucilius were already foil because they were basically driven to madness by the fact they were clearly created by a higher being and they had no idea why, even more so learning later that their creator (Lucifer and Lucio) didn't even know why they were created (Lucifer didn't know Sandalphon's purpose/Lucio doesn't even know how he happened to have a clone). And both of them tried to destroy the world if only so that the absent figure they're blaming for their pain would pay attention to them.

but Sandalphon learnt he was loved, and that his creator would drop the whole world if he had to, if only Sandalphon could be happy. And being loved by the person he devoted himself to at least was enough for Sandalphon to try to figure out how to give this love back to the world around him, the world his beloved loved so much.

while Lucilius is still left on mute by Bahamut, and Lucio treated him more like a curious experiment than someone he could care about (credit where credit is due Lucio still was developping his people skills), and even there Lucilius was already too far gone anyway.

Sandalphon foils people in wmtsb in such a way because everyone who has huge impact on the story is craving for love and recognization or pure free will, and Sandalphon was the one who managed to reach that by being loved by his creator who freed him from all of his burdens, while the rest of the antagonist are left abandonned in some way, and while the Astrals have learnt to be self reliant it left the one primal who stayed behind even more starved for it than they could be.

anyway many thoughts but yeah the way Sandalphon foils Lucilius even more because they were much more similar than Lucilius was to Lucifer actually, which enrages Lucilius, but Sandalphon managed to move past that. Lucilius, meanwhile, is still stuck in this homeostasis he hates so much.

crazy huh....

[dastardlywlw]

(I hope to all the gods this is on anon)

yeah, so. a story from the 00's. really really late aughts though so we were already seeing some progress compared to the early decade! at least where I lived. so bear with me, this story is not as terrifying as it's going to sound at first

but like fair warning about lesbophobic/biphobic sexual harassment

back in middle school I was forcibly outed by a classmate to the whole school as bi, which was a huge freaking scandal at first but whatever, I stood with it and went 'so what, yeah, it's true', and after that eventually it just tapered down to the new homeostasis of girls thinking I'm a predator wanting to grope them and the boys semi-openly sexualizing me because they'd seen lesbian porn online probably. they were really weirded out by me having hands to touch things with specifically

anyway, many months later things felt somewhat normalized aside from the occasional bullshit, and anyway one day I'm hanging out with a friend enjoying the sun, whatever. things're okay

then, the fire nation boys from our class find us and since school's out and there're no teachers around (not that they were super helpful either way) they're free to start shit so that's exactly what they do. their favourite thing at that point was to do everything to imply that me and my friend were a couple and specifically that we were doing 'things'

one of them starts hollering from the other side of the road stuff like 'haha lesbian, lezzyy, lesbooough' but then gets elbowed by another boy who goes like 'dude she's not a lesbo, she's bi' and the boy then goes 'oh.'

and after that, for sake of accuracy?? they try to settle with just yelling 'bi, biiiiiiii' repeatedly but it doesn't end up being quite as catchy as the, y'know, real slurs

they just kind of recede into the distance after a hot moment of sincerely boyish attempt at bigotry, audibly embarrassed and unimpressed by the turnout of the event they'd tried to orchestrate and me and my friend are just kind of left there laughing our asses off. we still sometimes have a haha that was funny about it

yeah. um. the 2000's sure were a time. this one is okay to share if it's not too bleak to handle lmao

Ohhh my god that hits so close to home! I'm glad it didn't become a physical altercation and that you were able to find humour in how pathetic their attempts were <333

Middle school was definitely the worst as far as homophobia went for me, but I was sent to a private Catholic school so that's not a surprise. Once I was walking down the halls holding my friend's hand in a not-gay way (she is very straight, married with kids now), and a teacher pulled me aside afterwards and told me not to do that because "you don't want everyone to think you're a faggot, do you?"

At the time I was just too stunned to say anything and was still deeply closeted even to myself but nowadays looking back on it I mean... he wasn't WRONG, I mean I AM a faggot, you clocked me on that Mr Ferenc

[acermp100]

WAWA WEEK PART 6: THE FINAL WAWA

Decided to post my combo tonight. So yeah, I wrapped together the last two prompts: Comfort and Birthday.

HAPPY BDAY WAWA!!!!!!!!

Serizawa is sick and Reigen comes over to care for him.

I have had many a respiratory diseases so sorry for the projecting.

Teen Audience. Seri Rei be here in full force. Depictions of illness and suffering. Dimple sass. Snuggles.

~3000k words

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

Opening his eyes just led to more pain. Light, be it natural or from electricity, seemed to drive toward the back of head, increasing the dizziness before plunging into his stomach to do more damage. It wasn’t that he was hungry; more that he had tried to eat too many times and now lay in failure. And that constant, throbbing ache in his temples didn’t help either.

Serizawa rolled over hoping that lying on his back would provide a fraction of relief. Used tissues had long over filled the little trashcan he had brought to the side of his bed. Groping at the nightstand, he managed to find a clean one but nothing would stop the visceral coughing whenever he took more than a shallow breath. It started out at a little chest cold: a bit of a tickle in the back of his throat and a runny nose. Now a few days later he didn’t even have the energy to take medication let alone keep it down. Weary eyes wandered toward to bathroom door before Serizawa curled up in on himself under the blankets.

Nope. Too  hot. He thought he had managed to create a decent homeostasis with his legs outside and his chest protected, but instead all the heat would swell into his head bleed from there, leaving him sweating even with the blankets fully off. Then a shiver would start and he’d have to wake up long enough to bundle himself once more.

Sleep would be nice. That’s what his mother always said- just lie in bed for a day, drink some juice, have some soup and it will be fine. His clouded mind attempted to recall if he ever suffered an illness this severe and long when a kid, however that just brought back memories he’d rather keep buried. A groan as he rotated once more, limbs and joints ever sore.

None of this compared to the shame writhing in his guts at having to call off work. It was day three now and all of his desperate attempts to get back into shape had only made him feel worse. Still, he kept his phone by his head ready to text at the first sign of good news. The weekend lay far away and even then he was missing classes and running out of food and clean laundry. His head seemed to buzz with even more pain and he let out a grunt, one eye opening. It turned out to be his phone.

“Happy birthday, son!” Came the text, followed by several heart emojis. “I hope you feel better soon and the care package I brought helped. Love, Mom.”

He cracked a tired grin as tears weld up in his eyes, not helping his congested sinuses. His birthday. He had forgotten all about it. Lifting his head he could still see the quaint basket his mom had brought over a few days earlier. Cookies he was unable taste now, medication that sadly couldn’t tackle even a half of his symptoms, cans of soup he was too weak to heat up, and a little potted plant that was slowly drooping from lack of water. Wincing, Serizawa buried his face in an arm and began to desperately sob into a sweat drenched sleeve.

His phone buzzed again. Sorry, mom. I’ll reply later. Just assume I’m asleep. But it went off again. And again. On the fourth time, Serizawa gritted his teeth and reached for the annoying thing, laying back into the pillow while his eyes tried to focus on the screen.

“Hey Tsuya. I rang but you didn’t answer.”

“You in there?”

“Please answer or I’m going to kick down the door.”

“KATSUYA PLEASE DON’T BE DEAD.”

A moan followed by slow, heavy footsteps. Serizawa had to brace himself against the wall with an arm before gathering enough strength to even unlock and open the door.

“Heeeey there!”

Reigen stood just outside with arms full of packages and bags. From the reaction, Serizawa assumed his pale face and sunken eyes with a raw, red nose and cheeks wasn’t doing him any favors. Without the will to even crack a welcoming expression, he glared ahead as he took short, rasping breaths. No ill will intended but appearing sociable was not exactly the first thing on his mind.

“Door bell’s broken. Sorry.” A bit of a phlegmy hack followed his words.

“Dude, you look fucking horrible.”

While Reigen still wrestled with figuring out if Serizawa had turned into a zombie or not, Dimple chimed in.

“Wait. What?” Serizawa stumbled back a bit, still holding on to the door frame. “Why are you here? It’s still the middle of the day right?” A panic as he glanced at his phone. 10:23am and still Tuesday. Didn’t lose track of the date yet. “Don’t you have clients to-“

Reigen was already letting himself in and setting down all his bundles, organizing them on the mail covered table near Serizawa’s meager kitchen.

“I brought some soup and medications- the really good stuff I use when I used to get sick running on one meal a day.” Bottles and cans and veggies with other ingredients even a blanket and some cooling pads. “And Shinra send over this charm that is supposed to keep spirits from getting at you when ill.”

“Hmph.” Dimple rolled his eyes at the little golden and beaded tag. “Telling you right now that’s just gonna gather dust.”

Reigen glared up mid opening a bottle of cough syrup. “Can you not for like ten minutes?”

“Just saying!”

Having used his legs longer than he had ever in the past few days, Serizawa limped over to the table and used a chair as a crutch, wincing from muscles sore from both disuse and inflammation.

“Reigen-san. What- what about the office?” He stared down at a week’s supply of food and medication. “How long are you-“

“Nope.” Reigen held a finger against Serizawa’s lips. “I’m here to care for you for as long as it takes. And the office-” A glance away while he tried to come up with the right words. “I decided to close for a bit.” He couldn’t meet Serizawa’s eyes but still managed to turn back. “You need to get back on your feet.”

In the dark apartment it was hard to tell if anyone was blushing, but a confused joy swelled in Serizawa’s chest and he straightened up, only to be taken by a rough spasm of coughs. Reigen frowned. After a few short breaths to catch back up, Serizawa tried to speak again.

“You- you both came to take care of- of me?”

“Hell no.” Dimple pointed at Reigen. “He’s the one doing the gross stuff.” A grin as he started to float backward. “I’m here to wait outside and scare the pants off of any would be solicitors.”

“Yeah. He loves doing that now.” Reigen let out a sigh, brining a hand to his face. “I found out the hard way when MY PAKAGES STOPPED SHOWING UP.”

The angry gripe was not received as Dimple had already slipped through the closed door.

A long sigh. “Welp, start off by taking some of this.” Reigen help up a little clear, plastic cup filled with a bright red liquid. “It helps a ton with keeping coughing down and I assume you have a sore throat too.”

Serizawa nodded back. Even with his sense of smell and taste obliterated, he still winced as the syrup went down his throat. Strong stuff indeed.

“How’s that feel?”

Serizawa let out a shudder. “Like I took a shot of brandy.”

“Good.” Reigen grinned. “That means it’s working.”

He continued unpacking the mountain of supplies. Vapor rub, a small electric humidifier, movie DVDs, more vegetable even packs of noodles and spice containers already opened from his own apartment. The hands normally furiously gesturing in the air were now adept at separating, organizing, and readying everything. Serizawa felt himself growing a bit dizzy at it all.

“Reigen-san.”

“Don’t start that.” Reigen looked over, now finished. “This is far cheaper than a stay at the clinic anyway.” A clap of his hands. “Alright! Let’s get you off your feet.”

Serizawa couldn’t object to being helped back to bed. A few more pillows wouldn’t hurt either.

“No, not there.”

The sudden stop caused Serizawa to stumble but he was caught under the shoulder.

“I meant the couch.” Reigen forced a grin as he bore far too much dead weight. “C-come on. It’s just a bit further.”

Serizawa didn’t mean to, but the dizziness was starting to really get to him. So much congestion and needing to take short breaths left him grateful for the assistance. Now sitting, he brought a hand to his temples to try and alleviate some of the pressure while the room spun around him.

“Wh- why not the bed?

Frowning over at the one pillow, Serizawa just wanted to cocoon under his blankets and go to sleep. The sweating had returned and he wrapped his arms around himself as he began to shiver.

Reigen had walked away but now returned with more pillows and started to form a mound with them at the far side of the couch.

“Here, lay back but keep sitting. That will help the cough and let you eat.”

A grumble. Serizawa’s stomach protested at just the mention of food. “I don’t think I can eat.”

More pillow adjustment as Serizawa sat back, legs finally resting on the couch. He was going to complain more about the many fun times he had in his bathroom but a blanket was tossed over him. A grunt as he pulled it around himself and off his face.

“That’s wool.” Reigen had returned to the table but still spoke over his shoulder. “It’s not going to get soaked from your fever sweats and should keep you from overheating as well.” He returned with the little humidifier and got it plugged in and active. “And you’ll be able to keep the food down.” Their eyes met. “Trust me.”

Serizawa breathed in some of the warmed mist. At first a sneeze but his throat and airways slowly turned from raw and burning to a soothing dampness. He looked up to try and cough out a thank you but Reigen had already set his sights on the kitchen.

Pans, knives, a bit of oil, spices- the man knew where everything was. Soon water was boiling but Serizawa couldn’t smell what was cooking. Judging by the vegetables and large pot he assumed it was some kind of soup. Carrots were peeled with potatoes and onions chopped up all together while the waste and skins went into the pot to start forming a stock.

Serizawa watched with hooded eyelids, no longer dizzy just exhausted. He himself never got too skilled at cooking and cracked a smile watching the master at work. But how did Reigen even learn this when he ate fast food and instant noodles so much? Images and thoughts blurred together as Serizawa closed his eyes and slipped into an uneasy state between dreaming and being awake.

“Almost forgot!”

When he opened his eyes again there were several things cooking and stewing on his small stove now. Reigen was smiling down at him holding Serizawa’s phone.

“Here watch this.” It took a bit for Serizawa to properly take the phone with shaking hands but Reigen remained patient. “The kids all recorded a happy birthday thing for you.”

“Oh.” Serizawa tried to focus his eyes. “Thanks.”

“The soup needs more time so in the meanwhile I’m gonna wash your bedding and do some laundry.” Reigen already had a heap of blankets and sheets in his arms. “There’s some pills and a glass of water on the table, it’ll stop your stomach from going sour again.”

“Wait, Rei-“

Too late. The man was already out the door. His laundry? Serizawa felt terrible. His own boss tending to him like a spoiled child: cooking, cleaning, everything. A little visit would have been enough but this felt wrong. Would this be coming out of his paycheck? Even if his mom was here performing the same chores he’d feel just as guilty. Still, he was glad for the help despite his embarrassment.

After downing the pills, he settled in again, the phone screen glowing back at him as he pressed play.

“HEY SERIZAWA.”

Shou appeared in frame only to be playfully pushed out of the way by Teru.

“Happy birthday!”

Ritsu poked his head in. “Yeah, happy birthday.”

Then the camera focused on Mob. He gave a little wave. “Happy birthday, Serizawa.”

Tome was yelling something in the background. The only word that got through was ‘party’.

“Yeah! Don’t worry about missing anything!” Shou took over again. “You can always move your birthday!”

“No you can’t.” Ritsu mumbled from the side.

“I meant the party!”

There came the sounds of a scuffle. Pens and papers flew into the air as Mob stood in frame expressionless while he observed something off screen. After a bit, Teru refocused the shot.

“Anyway, we wanted to wish you a speedy recovery.”

Mob poked his head over Teru’s shoulder and spoke softly despite all the commotion going on in the background. “When you get better, we can go to that karaoke place again.”

“Karaoke!” And once again Shou forced himself into frame. “I’m so gonna get one of the Kageyama’s up there singing just you wait!”

“Pfff. You should at least go first.” Quipped back Teru.

Ritsu also chimed in. “Oh I’ve heard it. Like a dying bird.”

And there went everyone back to arguing, save for Mob. He smiled a bit and looked into the camera.

“This is getting a bit long so: Happy birthday once again! Hope you get over your cold too. Bye Serizawa!”

A few blurry fumbles before the video ended. There was a smile forming on Serizawa’s face throughout it all, but weariness also spread, leading to the phone and his hand to fall at his side. The throbbing headache faded away to much needed sleep mixing with memories of singing and drinking and laughter. Reigen sat next to him and grinned over. Can’t look into his eyes but the tingle in his chest Serizawa could feel even through asleep lying with sore ribs and lungs from coughing so much. Then he’d see Reigen’s hand on the bar, fingers tapped as a tale was spun. Just reach for it. It’s only a dream.

“Katsuya? Sorry to wake you.”

Serizawa cracked open one eye, mumbling something while the weight of reality pushed down on him once more. It took a bit for dizziness and focus to line up enough but in the end he was staring at a hand in his own. Was he still dreaming? He gave a weak squeeze back before noticing Reigen over him.

“Hey, there you are.”

The soft smile and eyes without a hint of judgment. Serizawa lifted his other arm in his addled state, wanting nothing more than to rest his hand against Reigen’s face. A memory of them on this same couch together, shoulders pushing against the other from the limited space. It would have been so easy to reach around a waist and pull him in for a hug. His arm faltered at his own chest while he jerked, letting out a rough, wet series of coughs.

“Sounds like you might need more syrup.” Reigen released the hand, concern on his face. “At least your fever is down.”

Serizawa held his breath as a palm was placed on his forehead, the thumb tracing through his hair. Thoughts raced back and forth, colliding into to one another until all he was left with was a quiet calm, leaning into the touch. This is nice. His boss here taking care of him when he needed it. But why did he feel so tense still? Muscles and thoughts always resisting. Serizawa let out a raspy exhale.

What had his mother said?  

“Don’t give me that face. Just because you’re all grown up now doesn’t mean you won’t need help from time to time. Never think of yourself as undeserving.”

Serizawa smiled up weakly at Reigen. “Thank you.” He had to take another breath in before continuing. “For all of this.”

A soft grin back, Reigen’s hand still gently resting on Serizawa’s forehead.

“No problem, big guy. Now!” He stood up, clapping his hands together, but Serizawa could see his red face. “I got your bed all set up and clean; however, you should really get some fluids and food in you before sleeping. How’s your stomach?”

“Surprisingly well.” Serizawa sat up a bit against the pillows, rubbing at his gut. The only pain there now was from hunger. “I’d like to try eating.”

“Good!”

Reigen turned toward the kitchen. The sounds of clacking plates and pouring liquids could be heard. Though still unable to smell, Serizawa remembered all the fresh vegetables and licked his lips, stomach complaining right along with his brain. The last time he had anything stay down must have been over two days ago, and that had been instant noodles.

“Tada!” Reigen knelt down with a tray, revealing its contents with a flourish of his hand. “Happy Birthday!”

A few lit candles were stuck in some peanut butter plopped between plain, salted crackers. Right next by sat a bowl of steaming soup with some fancy fishcakes floating amid chunks of vegetables and noodles. Reigen had even decorated the plate with shiny paper and crude origami animals he must have practiced just before coming over.

“Well- it’s not a proper cake and everything.” Reigen was grinning down but avoiding eye contact. “But you probably shouldn’t be eating that kind of stuff anyway. Not in your state.”

Serizawa felt warmth against his belly as the tray was placed down. He took up the spoon after a long inhale at the vapors trailing up. For a moment he could smell a bit of spices but mainly just basked in the pleasant sensation of it all.

“It’s wonderful, Reigen-san.”

A quick huff and smoke now rose from the small, colorful candles.

“Did you make a wish?”

Serizawa looked over the decorated tray of food again before glancing up at his boss hovering over him.

“Yeah.” He smiled warmly. “Hope it comes true soon.”

Reigen rubbed the back of his head, turning to look back at the kitchen.

“Oh! I forgot the tea!”

Reigen returned with a mug and set it at the side table. Beaming, he sat down at the opposite table waiting for a response. Serizawa started with a few spoonfuls of broth but soon went straight for some carrots and noodles with some of the fish cakes. The crackers were a bit annoying to chew compared to the steamed vegetables so he had only few, making sure to get his protein in with the peanut butter. After only five minutes, the bowl was empty along with the tray and the tea half gone.

Serizawa let out a pleased sigh. Not a stomach cramp in sight. Now full of food, he started to feel even wearier. He closed his eyes for a moment as Reigen cleaned up the dishes and returned.

“Ha. Guess you’re ready for a good rest.” Reigen held down his hand in offering. “Come on, I’ll help you over.”

There was a mild struggle to get Serizawa’s legs cooperating again until they settled on Reigen bending down a bit with the larger man’s arm slung over shoulders and neck like a drunk being escorted home. Serizawa still felt the annoying spells of dizziness so the going remained slow. Suddenly he froze, covering his mouth after letting out a weak cough.

“Reigen-san!”

Reigen looked up. “Crap, you ok? Don’t have to puke or anything?”

“N-no!” Serizawa pulled back but still couldn’t support his own weight. “I just realized! I’m going to get you sick too!” He turned his head away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Heh.” A nudge from Reigen’s arm. “Why do you think I closed the office? And brought so much food and medication? And that soup’s not going anywhere. Made about two day’s worth. Plus snacks.”

Serizawa kept his hand over his mouth. “Reigen-san.”

“Come on.” Reigen forged ahead. “You need your rest to get any better.”

There was already a bit of swelling in the man’s eyes with some minor sniffles between words. Serizawa flopped into the bed, rolling onto his back now as sore and tired as he’d ever been, yet sated with nutrients and medication garnering a feeling of a coming recovery instead of more suffering. Reigen fluffed up the pillows before bringing the blankets up while he failed to suppress a cough.

“There we go. All tucked in.”

Serizawa watched his boss smile. Reigen was still leaning down, hand feeling against his employee’s neck and forehead again. Nerves danced sleepily at the touch and Serizawa felt a flutter in his hands and chest.

“Fever still feels down.” Reigen started to pull his fingers away. “Need anything else?”

Serizawa took the hand, keeping it just above his face. His grip was light around the wrist while he slowly pulled his boss closer, eyes flicking up to meet flush cheeks and a shocked yet willing expression.

“Wh- you alright?”

Another arm reached out, trembling fingers lingering inches from the back of Reigen’s neck before resting there, waiting. Serizawa could feel Reigen giving into the suggestion, leaning ever closer. Their eyes closed and their lips met; the hand in Serizawa’s grip twitching as he’d force himself forward, wanting more, only to be pushed back with the same need. A gentle caress at his face, the bed creaking when Reigen supported himself with a knee. His taste came back along with being able to smell: a mix of Reigen’s cheap cologne and his heated, desperate breathes.  After a few moments they separated, faces still close, both quivering from the sensation.

“Ha. Haa.” Breathing hard, Reigen appeared exhausted, still leaning down with his knee and arm keeping him from collapsing.

“Arataka?”

A sneeze, Reigen turning his head away before he suffered through a brief coughing fit. When he looked back his face was beet red.

“Well. That’s one way to get inoculated.” His entire form was tense, showing in the edges of his smile. “Guess I’m staying here for a few days.”

He stepped back, eyes darting from side to side while stealing glances at Serizawa lying on the bed. Normally animated hands now sat still with one slowly rising to grip his chest no doubt feeling the heart there beating frantically.

Serizawa let out a chuckle before holding up the blanket. “Wanna join me? He found himself saying. “It’s warm, and the couch is pretty uncomfortable.”

Now one of Reigen’s hands was rubbing against his face. “Yes.” He whispered. “Let me take some cough syrup first.”

He downed a cup like a nervous bachelor at a party. Time moved in slow motion as Reigen crawled over Serizawa, settling in against the wall with part of his body resting on the man he had just cared for. A pleasant weight as they laid there, breathing gradually slowing in each other’s arms. Serizawa’s entire body was soaked in bliss from his heart to his stomach, all dancing together. He had started to drift off before feeling Reigen snuggling his shoulder and neck. Never having someone with him in bed before, he was content with cuddling until falling asleep. Still, he knew the illness would hit the worst in a few days and turned, pulling his boss closer.

“Come here.” Serizawa made sure the blanket was fully wrapped around them both. He blushed when Reigen buried his face in his chest. “Thank you for coming over. I’m starting to feel better already.” His hand pet through Reigen’s hair. “Guess I’ll have to take care of you now.”

A few muffled words, Reigen refusing to show his face, but the initial tense muscles had melted away to happy acceptance. Serizawa left it at that, closing his eyes and drifting towards sleep while wreathed in the warm and comfort of another’s hold. Before his brain fully committed he heard Reigen’s voice against his chest.

“Happy Birthday, Katsuya.”

[jcsmicasereports]

Case Study: Trikafta and severe symptomatic hypoglycemia: cause or coincidence? by Samuel Kunz, MD in Journal of Clinical Case Reports Medical Images and Health Sciences

Abstract

Background Trikafta (Ivacaftor / Elexacaftor / Tezacaftor) is a new combined

CFTR modulator and potentiator for the treatment of cystic fibrosis (CF), approved by Swissmedic since December 2020. It has shown to improve lung function in CFpatients. Trikafta also influences pancreatic function and glucose homeostasis, whereby hypoglycemic episodes have been described. The underlying mechanisms are not yet fully understood.

Case report We present a 16-year-old adolescent with CF with a first tonic-clonic seizure while being hypoglycemic approximately two weeks after therapy-onset with Trikafta. Diagnostic work-up found no other underlying cause for the seizureepisode.

Discussion Literature shows a complex influence of pancreatic CFTR channels on glucose homeostasis. CFTR channels have an important role in the first phase of insulin secretion as well as regulation of glucagon release. Hence, some effect on glucose homeostasis is expected from the treatment with CFTR modulators. Due to the timely connection in our patient the hypoglycemic state could have been provoked by a combination of changing eating habits and the direct influence of Trikafta on the regulatory mechanism of the pancreatic CFTR channels.

Conclusion Medical caregivers should be aware of potential hypoglycemia risk in CF-patients put on Trikafta.  Based on the literature CF-pathophysiology and the pharmacologic effect of Trikafta  we assume that the medication may have triggered this critical event. We thus conclude that before initiating therapy a) patients should be evaluated for prediabetic state; b) patients should be instructed regarding hypoglycemia-risk and c) the possibility of continuous-glucose-monitoring should be considered and discussed with the patients.

Keywords: Trikafta, Ivacaftor, Elexacaftor, Tezacaftor hypoglycemia, cystic fibrosis

Introduction

Cystic Fibrosis (CF) is caused by mutation in the cystic fibrosis transmembrane conductance regulator protein (CFTR) gene which leads to defects in the eponymous called protein.1 Because of these defects, the chloride conductance in and out of the cell is impaired in many organs, most importantly in lung and pancreas, which leads to building of thick mucus in these organs. In the last years there is a new way to treat CF-patients, namely with CFTR-potentiators/-modulators, Trikafta as an example. They have shown to be very potent with major lung improvements and seem to be safe concerning the adversary effects.

Case Presentation

A 16-year old adolescent with cystic fibrosis, who was under Trikafta-therapy was admitted to the emergency department following a generalized tonic-clonic seizure.

The event happened during moderate physical activity one hour after lunch.

Examination on site showed hypoglycemia (3.0mmol/L), 20 minutes after seizure onset. 10 minutes after spontaneous seizure termination glucose infusion was immediately started. Upon arrival at the hospital the patient was somnolent with GCS 8 but hemodynamically stable. Blood glucose was 4.6 mmol/l. Electrolytes and inflammation parameters were normal, lactate was 2.9 mmol/L. Critical sampling wasn’t performed because of normal glucose.

Head-CT and – MRI excluded intracranial hemorrhage and relevant ischemia as potential etiologies. ECG was normal.

After extubation, the patient remained drowsy but oriented when stimulated, complained about headache for the next 24 hours. Follow-up EEG performed after 36 hours showed an overall decelerated pattern, which 5 days later had disappeared.

The patient had been diagnosed with CF - compound heterozygote type with F508deletion and 1717-1G>A. – 14 years ago.  His lung function had considerably declined resulting in nocturnal oxygen for the last 7 months. His last FEV1 was 38% with the lowest value of 21% during the latest exacerbation several months ago. Consecutively he was started off-label on Trikafta (Ivacaftor / Elexacaftor / Tezacaftor) additionally to his regular CF-treatment 18 days prior to the event. He noted an immediate substantial subjective improvement of lung function. Pulmonary secretion decreased and physical performance improved. His FEV1 almost doubled to 64% two weeks after treatment onset.

The adolescent had previously been diagnosed with exocrine pancreas insufficiency with failure to thrive and reduced bone mineral density despite pancreatic enzymes substitution. An oral glucose tolerance-test (oGTT) was normal nine months before the event. On Trikafta the patient developed increased appetite and a weight gain of 5kg in 18 days.

Discussion

Trikafta  is a novel combined CFTR modulator and potentiator. Enhancing the quantity of correctly processed CFTR proteins and increasing their open-probability once integrated in the cell membrane, this medication has recently improved lung function in CF-patients by increasing the conductance of chloride across the epithelial cells.1 Whereas the primary target is improvement of epithelial lung cell function, the modulator therapy additionally influences the CFTR dependent function in other organs i.e., the pancreas.

CFTR channels are present in pancreatic islet cells. Animal and human studies show that CFTR deficiency leads to islet-intrinsic defects in insulin secretion. Kayani et al give an excellent overview of the role of the CFTR in insulin secretion focusing on the first-phase insulin response, which is depolarization-dependent and therefore possibly related to the CFTR function, whereas the second phase release is not.2 In addition to insulin secretion, CFTR presumably regulates glucagon release from the pancreatic alpha cell. Glucagon secretion was enhanced in response to glucose and forskolin following CFTR inhibition in human islets.  The exact impact of CFTR in pancreatic cells remain conflicting and further studies are needed. 3

Therefore, CF related diabetes (CFRD) could partially be explained by a reduction in early-phase insulin secretion, which is considered the initial marker of impaired insulin secretion.3

Hence, some effect on glucose homeostasis is expected from the treatment with CFTR modulators. Hypoglycemic events have been described with the administration of Ivacaftor in patients with a CFRD resulting in reduced insulin-requirements. Ivacaftor also improved the early phase insulin secretion in a relatively young CFpatient group with normal to mildly impaired glucose tolerance comparable to our patient. The extent to which this arises from b-cell-specific effects remains unclear; since CFTR protein expression has been identified also in pancreatic alpha-cells, Ivacaftor and with it Trikafta may have effect on both cell functions. 4; 5

The American FDA (Food and Drug Administration) reports a prevalence of 1% of hypoglycemic events with Trikafta as compared to placebo. The WHOpharmacovigilance database (www.vigylize.who-umc.org) has listed nine cases of hypoglycemia since 2019. According to the criteria of the Institute of Clinical

Pharmacology and Toxicology of the University Hospital of Zurich, a correlation of the hypoglycemic event and administration of Trikafta is possible, given the timely connection.

Our patient reported a sudden change of eating habits with the start of Trikafta, with larger meals and a weight-gain of 5kg in two weeks, which lead us to assume a change in glucose homeostasis. The aforementioned mechanisms in CFRD and documented reduction in early phase insulin secretion even in patients without CFRD, let us speculate on a prediabetic state in our patient. We suggested that the improved insulin secretion from beta cells after the start of Trikafta cumulating with the second phase release and simultaneously impaired glucagon release from alpha cells led to the hypoglycemic event. Christian et all. published a case with postprandial hypoglycemic events during the treatment with Ivacaftor hypothesizing a potentiation of the insulin-effect after meals.4  An additional potential risk factor is the changed eating habit in our patient with the possibility of faster gastric emptying and reduced insulin secretion 3; 5

While limitations lie in the thoroughly evaluation of hypoglycemia (C-peptide, Insulin, fasting-glucose-test), medication-induced hypoglycemia was the most possible solution. Knowing that a glucose of 3mmol/l doesn’t typically lead to general seizures we supposed a lower value during at the initiation, with counter-regulatory mechanisms already working until the first measurement, which we can’t prove

Conclusion

To our knowledge, this is the first reported case with a symptomatic hypoglycemic seizure event in a patient with CF under Trikafta. After exclusion of other potential causes, we hypothesize a combined effect of improved first phase insulin release together with a modifying effect on pancreatic glucagon secretion. This would be in line with the current literature on Trikafta and with data of CFTR-modulator pilotstudies suggesting an increased hypoglycemia risk.

Based on our patient's case we suggest evaluating patients carefully for pre-diabetic state before starting Trikafta, a good education regarding the potential for postprandial hypoglycemia and considering a continuous glucose monitoring in the first weeks of treatment.

[spricket-central]

this is a particularly hard memorial to write.

let me tell you about Bagel, the king of Chill.

on may 23rd, 2023, i successfully hatched my first ever captive bred spricket, a special girl named Poppyseed.

having one hatchling was already exciting, but soon afterwards, i spotted another fresh hatchling on my bedroom wall.

i tried to capture the lil guy, but he bounced away before i could, and i was unable to find him.

i theorize this little hatchling was Bagel, because exactly two months later, i found a young nymph in my bedroom who appeared to be exactly the same age as Poppy. this time, i managed to catch him!

if this was the same hatchling, im so, so grateful i got a 2nd chance at catching him.

to match his buddy, Poppyseed, i decided to name him Bagel.

he was pretty chill as a young nymph. id often find him just zoning out in the open. i was actually somewhat concerned by this behavior, as nymphs are typically EXTREMELY shy, so i worried that he was perhaps in too poor health to hide away, but my fears ended up being unnecessary. Bagel was just Like That!

he was even pretty chill during tank cleanings as a nymph, going into the Jr. Tube used for transport with no fuss! ...he became more defiant of the tube as he aged though, ahaha. damn.

theres no way of telling the sex of a spricket until they reach the age where females begin to sprout their ovipositor. when i noticed Poppyseed's coming in, i was hoping Bagel would turn out to be male so i could play matchmaker with them, and to my delight, his butt remained bare!

it became pretty evident as he aged that Bagel was just extremely laid-back (for a spricket at least). even when he lived on the kitchen counter, a fairly busy place, he would just remain unbothered, even when i was making a bit of a commotion while preparing my cat Wembley's food. this man was truly The Vibe Master.

about a week after Poppyseed, Bagel had his final molt and entered adulthood, which meant it was finally time for the two to meet!

when i moved the pair into my biggest tank (the Luxury Suite, i call it), i didnt know what to expect. i put Bagel in first, and he got a bit spooked upon entry (chill as he was, he was still a spricket, ahaha) and ended up hanging on the ceiling. oops. i went ahead and added Poppy, and she immediately seemed to be aware of Bagel's presence up there: she was anxiously pacing around beneath him, rapidly waggling her antennae straight up in the air to touch them against his. eventually, the curiosity was too much for her, and with a boing, she sprung up onto the ceiling to join him!

they sat up there together for a while, now touching each other with their antennae gently and calmly. it would end up being the beginning of a truly special little relationship.

sprickets are, of course, insects. theres no way of us to truly know what they are capable of thinking and feeling with those simple little brains, but i think its safe to say they dont form complex bonds with each other in the way we and our fellow social mammals do... but there was definitely some form of "affection" between Poppyseed and Bagel, to whatever extent sprickets can feel it. they had an observable preference for each others company. id find them just calmly relaxing side by side extremely often, whether they asleep or awake.

they spent most of their lives together, coexisting, mating... and chasing each other away from their daily veggies. hey, no relationship is perfect!

on april 25th, only a day after she turned 11 months old, Poppyseed died peacefully of old age. Bagel lingered beside her body. he wasnt cannibalizing it (as sprickets, being opportunistic scavengers, are prone to doing to their fallen comrades); just sitting beside. it. he lingered in the spot her body laid after i removed it to bury her.

i dont think sprickets feel grief, but i was a little worried for Bagel all the same. losing his partner of 9 months was still a change, and every living thing strives for homeostasis. still, in his new, smaller tank, he continued to thrive.

he had grown "outgoing" in his old age, often to be seen taking little strolls during the day, and, of course, continuing to emanate emaculate vibes. he was a delight to observe, and was such a handsome boy! he had this lovely pair of spots on his back, a striking feature that had always made him easy to tell apart from Poppyseed, even when without seeing his lack of an ovipositor.

because of how close in age he was to Poppyseed, i knew that Bagel didnt have much time left either after she passed, but he hung on for much longer than i could have hoped for: a whole month! he was active and spunky right up to his final day.

when noticed his slumped, lethargic posture on night, i knew it was time to say goodbye. he passed away peacefully the next day. while i didnt know his exact age, having been wild caught and not hatched in captivity, i estimate he lived to be about an entire year old.

it was a wonderful year spent with him. id like to imagine it was for him too. he had a safe home and never had to go hungry. he had a tankmate, and got to mate... many, many times, ahaha. and, while he had no way of knowing or comprehending it, he was so, so loved.

Bagel... i cant thank you enough for the joy youve given me. ive raised quite a few sprickets, but you truly did stand out from the rest. every spricket has its own personality: some have been brave, some have been spunky, but no one has had the laid-back nature you brought to the table. you were my suave little sleepy head, and im so, so grateful for every moment i had with you. im grateful to have caught you, whether it was my 2nd chance or my 1st. im grateful to have gotten to see you grow and thrive. im grateful that you and Poppyseed were able to grow old together.

i love you, you silly old man. I'll always love you. thank you for being my friend.

i will always remember my dearest Bagel, The Vibe Master. 💚

Bagel

July 23rd, 2023 (caught) - May 25th, 2024

[nowtoboldlygo]

we're in julyyyyy & it's time for the monthly wrap-up!!!

first look at my forest it's so cute!! 💙💛

i've been a bit up and down over the last few weeks - every time i hit my platonic ideal of a productive day, two days later i melt down. where is the homeostasis fr

basically the priorities for july are: (a) work. (b) summer fun. (c) exercise. (d) cello practice. (e) spanish & (f) korean.

which means my study minutes might decrease in july!! i hate that but also, i really do have some other things to do this month. like hang out, chill, relax, have a good time.

[medusa-adsume]

I've always found other peoples' experiences with being trans and transition in general to be unrelatable. That sentence has no hidden value judgment; I just experience things (or maybe explain them) in a different way than a lot of the people I know. This can end up being quite troubling, though, because of how isolating it is to only read unrelatable posts online and only see unrelatable media, etc, etc. That's one of the reasons I'm writing this right now — maybe someone will be happy to see it, years down the line.

Since the time I was 12-ish years old, I've been trying to attain the same eventuality RE: androgyny, so my self-image has never changed. I spent 13 years with a life-threatening ED that never went into remission until I explored transition, particularly binding my chest. The combination of that sensory experience being lifted when I move around, and finally getting to explore the androgyny ED treatment told me wasn't allowed, helped me to make a full recovery. As of writing this, I've been totally recovered for over 3 years. I also switched from binding to taping (cannot recommend that enough; I literally don't think about it or feel it at all, and I am not restricted).

The rest of my life (not related to my body or my 'gender') kinda exploded and my career took off at the same time that my personal life fell into shambles. So, despite finding recovery, I didn't finally find actual stability until much later — maybe the end of the summer of 2023. Which is about the time I decided I wanted to try supplementing testosterone.

I wanted some things and didn't want others, didn't care about a few either way. I'd had a goatee since I was 13 years old because of a hormonal intersex condition (not the same as one from birth) and have always been tall and narrow as well, so I kind of started from a blank slate. I was mostly hoping to masculinize my body shape and some of the more imperceptible features. As a musician editing their own voice, I always loathed hearing mine. I loved editing lower voices, always, and found myself intentionally shifting mine (in real life, and in post-production) to compensate. I also wanted to have the option to have more facial hair, particularly on my cheeks where it was missing.

My concerns were valid and well thought-out. I was worried about changes to my genitals until I realized I'll probably only be sleeping with other queer people, like my partner, forever. I was worried about getting acne because I have a really bad skin-picking habit. I was worried about gaining weight because I'm in recovery from an ED and my safety-zone of comfort and ease was effortlessly maintained with literally zero thought about food or weight or dieting or anything like that.

Basically, I was in homeostasis, emotionally speaking, but looking to optimize. So I started T in September of 2023, saying (frequently aloud, to my partner) "I am feeling really stable and don't wanna jeopardize that, but I wanna give this a shot."

I started 0.20 200/ml every other week for the first 3 months. Then my doctor upped my dose to 0.25 weekly. I immediately sensed this was too high for my body, but thought I would adjust. I liked having less of a rise and fall, dosing weekly rather than biweekly.

Around 2 months of the new dose, I didn't end up feeling well-adjusted and lowered my dose a bit, down to 0.20 per week, which felt better.

I'm 6 months on T now. Some things have been very exciting and made me very happy! I have muscle on my body for the first time ever, but not in a way that's super masculine — maybe in a way I should have had all along, lol. I am in way, way, way less pain because of the extra muscle my body built just from, like, holding my head up. My spine feels supported. My arms and legs and glutes are all feeling less like they're ripping and falling off whenever I move them. My body feels good. I feel healthy on a day to day basis. Some days I literally have abs. I get fewer migraines too. I also feel less emotionally intense on a regular basis, though I have a full range of emotion and do still feel things more intensely when something is super upsetting etc.

Some things have been unremarkable. Genital stuff was super mundane and didn't actually bother me at all. Like nothing hurt or was uncomfortable the way some people seem to experience. I gained like 3-5lbs total, likely muscle and water. In the grand scheme of things, these are very minor changes.

I did get a lot of zits and clogged pores and I am constantly picking at my face in a way that isn't good for my skin, or my mental health. Changing my hormones also thinned my hair a bit, which gave me something else to fixate on. I have become pretty anxious about my voice changing and being unable to change it back, despite wanting it to change to begin with. I am also feeling anxious about something happening "inside me" (I don't know what I mean by this) that could be bad, without my knowing — like atrophy of my ovaries or my uterus etc. There is no evidence of this, I am just worried. Sometimes it consumes me. "Should I be doing this?" I find it hard to believe myself about what I want with so much noise. I also am concerned about giving myself so many things to worry about.

So, while those things aren't 'bad' necessarily, they're giving me a lot of stress. They're making me behave in really obsessive compulsive ways. It's eating a lot of my time and energy because they're literally triggering obsessive compulsive behaviors. But I've had obsessive compulsive behaviors my whole life — incredibly persistent ruminating, magical thinking and rituals, 'finding it,' intrusive thoughts, etc — so it's not like they're going to stop if I stop T.

I don't know. I need to do some research on where the endocrine deadzone is to make sure I don't end up in it. Like, you have to have enough hormones to live and function properly, and if I think I might lower my dose a little more, I don't wanna end up in it. My doctor and my therapist have been very supportive and informative, though, and my levels are getting checked every 3 months! So I don't mean an actual deadzone, just a feeling-dead-zone.

That's where I'm at. A super underwhelming 6 months on T update from a nonbinary person who was somewhat androgynous organically in the first place. I'm happy but I'm also panicking that I'm not actually happy. It's an experience I'm sure other autistic people know very well.

[whentherewerebicycles]

weight talk below the cut!!

[insert standard caveat that no one has to lose weight or feel pressure to lose weight, everyone gets to make decisions about their own bodies, and choices I make about my body are not an implicit judgment of anyone else’s choices!]

I’ve been working for three years—literally almost to the day—to slowly lose weight and keep it off through sustainable long-term lifestyle changes. three years ago this week I was at my highest weight I’ve ever been and was having all kinds of health irritations that I thought were just the result of turning 30/getting older (I now think they were the result of an extremely sedentary lifestyle combined with fairly heavy drinking combined with a really bad processed food diet). anyway I won’t rehash everything as I’ve def written at length about it before but I started eating a whole food plant-based diet and trying to consistently get an hour or more of physical activity every day. it’s sometimes felt like sloooow going, esp compared to the short-term results I used to get with crash dieting (where you’d lose a bunch of what was almost certainly just water weight by starving yourself, only to rocket right back up to your starting weight or higher within a couple weeks or months). but I’ve made changes to my diet and lifestyle that now three years later just feel like a rock solid part of how I eat and plan my day, and I feel the benefits of them so strongly (and the negative effects when I’m traveling or out of my routines and can’t do them) that I think they’re just like… permanent now. best of all I feel like I’ve spent the three years negotiating ways to be flexible around food so I don’t feel all those strong bad feelings of guilt/shame or deprivation that used to characterize my entire relationship with eating. I can make a cake and eat it without feeling like I have to atone for it afterwards. I can be adaptable when I’m traveling while feeling confident that I’ll be able to reestablish healthy routines once the temporary disruption is over. I can calmly regulate my own emotions around food and make good decisions that will make my body feel good too. and even though losing weight happens really slowly, I track it pretty carefully and that helps me see that 1) it’s a steady downward trend and 2) my weight fluctuates significantly less than it used to, which I think means that I’m basically very slowly lowering my ‘resting weight’ (ie the equilibrium weight my body hovers around even as I fluctuate a couple pounds in either direction throughout my cycle). and that is very cool to see!

May 2020: 199 lbs

May 2021: 183 lbs

May 2022: 175 lbs

May(ish) 2023: 169 lbs

I could probably ‘lose faster’ if I restricted calories more, but I don’t want to! a lot of the research says people can lose up to 1-2 lbs a week for sustainable weight loss but that just hasn’t been my personal experience—if I lose too fast by restricting too much, it comes back and the temporary loss doesn’t seem to shift that resting weight baseline for me at all. whereas losing at this rate (less than a pound per month, but with a slooooow steady downward trend) seems to give my body time to readjust and accept the slightly lower weight as its new normal. this is totally unscientific and purely just personal opinion lol but I feel like, we know that the body doesn’t like change and is always trying to reestablish and maintain homeostasis… so in my mind it’s like well if I bring the weight down so, so gradually maybe my body doesn’t really register it as a change it needs to adjust for. anyway I don’t really care about why it works but it’s working for me.

I don’t really set goals around weight loss anymore (or I’m trying not to) because I don’t want to view it as like, a competition with myself that has a clear end goal, but I think bringing my resting weight to somewhere in the 150-160 range would be ideal for me… I have that sturdy Italian + Irish peasant stock build lol I’m not meant to be waif thin nor do I aspire to be. but 150-155ish is a weight I’ve felt very good/healthy at before and in the longer term (like 1-3 years) it’s the place I’d like to get to. I feel like sustainably losing 50 lbs and making lifestyle changes to keep it off is actually a huge fucking deal and if it takes me six years or so to do it that feels kinda right to me… like of course doing a complete and enduring overhaul of your attitudes and habits/routines around food and physical activity is going to take a long time to really firmly and permanently establish. like it took what, 26+ years to establish pretty fucked up and unhealthy routines/mindsets around food and exercise? so in the grand scheme of things six-ish years is actually really fast. also I am just kind of into the slowness of it all as a concept—like, proving to myself I can conceive of and implement a very long-term transformation of this huge area of my life/identity. I like the idea that you can change any aspect of your habits or attitudes once they are no longer serving you well. it’ll take time and patience to do it but you CAN do it.

[scotttrismegistus7]

NUMMO KANGA: THE I AM, THE EGO AND THE ALTERED EGO, AND HOW THIS RELATES TO GOOD AND EVIL.

THE PEOPLE TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF EGYPTIAN SPIRITUAL CONCEPTS FROM HIEROGLYPHS KEEP MAKING THE MISTAKE OF TRANSLATING SOMETHING THAT IS SUPPOSED TO BE AN EGG, OR THE COSMIC EGG OF THE GODDESS, AS THE SUN IN THE SENSE OF THE WHITE SUN. THEY'RE DOING THIS BECAUSE OF THE CAMPAIGN OF THE MODERN ABRAHAMIC RELIGIONS AGAINST THE DIVINE FEMININE. SO MUCH OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE DIVINE FEMININE HAS BEEN WRITTEN OUT OF THE HISTORY BOOKS BY THESE IGNORANT PEOPLE, THAT THEY'RE MISTAKING AN IMAGE OF THE COSMIC EGG OF THE GODDESS TO BE THE WHITE SUN, THE PROJECTIVE SUN OF LIGHT AND HEAT. THE WORLD OF THE WHITE SUN, THE SUN THAT PROJECTS LIGHT AND HEAT, AND THE WORLD OF THE BLACK SUN, WHICH IS THE COSMIC EGG OF THE GODDESS, ARE TWO VERY DIFFERENT THINGS AND TWO ENTIRELY DIFFERENT PLANES AND DIMENSIONS OF REALITY. WHEN IT IS SAID THAT ONE DAY WE WILL LOOK WITHIN AND REUNITE WITH THE NUMMO, THEY ARE DIVINE FEMININE SERPENTINE WATER SPIRITS THAT EXIST IN THE DIVINE FEMININE REALM OF THE BLACK SUN COSMIC EGG OF THE GODDESS. I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THIS KANGA SYMBOL IS BECAUSE IT IS A DIVINE FEMININE GODDESS SYMBOL THAT IS A DIRECT LINK TO THE DIVINE FEMININE REALM OF THE GODDESS WHERE WE WILL FIND THE NUMMO. BEING AN INITIATED WITCH INTO THE MYSTERIES OF THE DIVINE FEMININE AND THE GODDESS, THESE THINGS ARE SECOND NATURE TO ME. THIS MIGHT HAVE BEEN ONE OF THE ORIGINAL REASONS FOR THE CAMPAIGN OF THE ABRAHAMIC RELIGIONS AGAINST THE DIVINE FEMININE, BECAUSE THEIR RELIGION CANNOT EXIST IF THE DIVINE FEMININE REALM OF THE GODDESS IS REAL. FOR THEM TO HAVE TO ADMIT THAT THE MASCULINE PATRIARCHY IS OUT OF BALANCE WITHOUT AN EQUAL PRESENCE OF THE DIVINE FEMININE (THE STORY OF LILITH COMES TO MIND) THAT HAS A SAY IN GOVERNANCE EQUAL TO THE MEN WOULD TOPPLE THEIR ENTIRE RELIGIONS AND BELIEF SYSTEMS. THE OTHER PART OF THAT IS THAT THE NUMMO AND THE OTHER SPIRITUAL BEINGS THAT INHABIT THE REALM OF THE DIVINE FEMININE GODDESS ARE ABSOLUTELY REAL, AND DISCOVERING THAT IN A TANGIBLE SENSE AGAIN WOULD COMPLETELY DESTROY AND TOPPLE THEIR ENTIRE RELIGIONS AND BELIEF SYSTEMS. THEIR DEFENSE OF THEIR IGNORANCE HAS CAUSED THEM TO VILIFY THESE THINGS BECAUSE PEOPLE KEEP TAPPING INTO THE WORLD WHERE THEY ARE AND REALIZING THAT THEY REALLY EXIST, SO IN ORDER TO STOP THEIR ENTIRE RELIGIONS AND BELIEF SYSTEMS FROM CRUMBLING TO THE GROUND THEY DECIDED TO VILIFY THE DIVINE FEMININE REALM AND THE DIVINE FEMININE SPIRITS AND MAKE THE GODDESS INTO THEIR DEVIL, THOSE HORRID PIECES OF POOPY!

LET'S TALK ABOUT GOOD AND EVIL. THE DENSE SLOWER MOVING PLANE OF PHYSICAL MATTER IS THE ONLY PLANE WHERE THE PATRIARCHY HAS ANY CHANCE OF EXISTING AS A DOMINANT FORCE BECAUSE IT IS THE ONLY PLANE WHERE THEY CAN UTILIZE VIOLENCE IN ORDER TO GAIN THAT DOMINANCE. IN ALL THE HIGHER PLANES OF EXISTENCE, ALL THE SPIRITUAL PLANES, THEY ARE ALL EITHER RAN AND DOMINATED BY THE DIVINE FEMININE AND THE DIVINE FEMININE SPIRITS, OR IT IS AN ABSOLUTE EQUAL BALANCE AS YOU GO HIGHER AND HIGHER. DIVINE FEMININE DOMINANCE MEANS BIG PICTURE TO DETAIL, SO AT THE VERY LEAST HOMEOSTASIS WOULD BE MAINTAINED. THAT IS THE WAY IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE, EITHER THAT OR THE PROPER BALANCE, BUT WHEN THE DIVINE FEMININE BIG PICTURE TO DETAIL IS FORCEFULLY OVERRIDDEN BY SEPARATED INDIVIDUALIZED DETAIL TO BIG PICTURE MASCULINE ENTITIES, THE END RESULT INEVITABLY IS THE ABSOLUTE DESTRUCTION OF HOMEOSTASIS EVERY SINGLE TIME. IF HOMEOSTASIS IS DESTROYED, THEN BALANCE IS DESTROYED, AND IF SOMETHING IS NOT IN BALANCE, SOONER OR LATER IT IS GOING TO CEASE TO EXIST. SO WHEN IT COMES TO THE DEFINITION OF GOOD AND EVIL, EVIL COULD BE DEFINED NOT AS THIS THING OR THAT THING, BUT AS ANYTHING THAT IS OUT OF BALANCE AND THE DEGREE TO WHICH IT IS OUT OF BALANCE, BECAUSE THE VERY NATURE OF THAT WILL LEAD TO ABERRATIONS OF SUFFERING AND THE ULTIMATE DESTRUCTION OF WHATEVER IT IS THAT IS OUT OF BALANCE IF IT IS NOT PUT BACK INTO BALANCE.

THE I AM IS AN EGG EMBRYO CONCEPT, THE I BEING THE CONTRACTED MASCULINE CENTER THAT IS CONSCIOUSNESS, AND THE AM BEING THE EXPANDED VERSION OF THE CONTRACTED CENTER THAT IS IN CONTINUAL MOTION AND ENCAPSULATES THE MASCULINE CONTRACTED CENTER, THAT BY ITS VERY NATURE AND ITS CORE DOES NOT MOVE. IN FACT, WE NEVER MOVE AT ALL IN REALITY, EVERYTHING JUST CHANGES AROUND US SO FAST THAT IT PRESENTS THE ILLUSION THAT WE ARE MOVING.

SO HOW DOES THAT RELATE TO THE EGO AND THE ALTERED EGO, AS WELL AS GOOD AND EVIL? THE EGO IS NOT A BAD THING. THE ALTERED IS THE BAD THING. THE ALTERED EGO IS A SET OF BELIEF SYSTEMS THAT IF HELD GUARANTEE THAT ONE WILL BE COMPLETELY OUT OF BALANCE WITH ACTUAL REALITY. THE ALTERED EGO IS THE BELIEF THAT PHYSICAL MATTER AND PHYSICAL REALITY IS EITHER THE ONLY REALITY THERE IS, OR THAT IT IS THE DOMINANT REALITY. EVEN SCIENCE HAS ADVANCED ENOUGH TO CATCH UP WITH MAGICK AND THE THOUGHTS OF THE ANCIENTS TO KNOW THAT TO JUDGE WHAT IS REAL, AND IN THIS EXAMPLE WE WILL USE A THOUGHT IN YOUR MIND VERSUS AN OBJECT IN PHYSICAL REALITY, THAT THE OBJECT IN PHYSICAL REALITY IS VIBRATING AT A MUCH SLOWER RATE THAN THE THOUGHT IN YOUR MIND, SO IF IT CAME DOWN TO IT YOU WOULD SAY SCIENTIFICALLY THAT THE THOUGHT IN YOUR MIND IS MORE REAL THAN THE OBJECT IN YOUR MATERIAL REALITY. WHAT THE THE ANCIENTS, THE SHAMANS, AND THE OCCULTISTS HAVE ALWAYS KNOWN IS THAT ALL IS MIND, AND THAT MIND AND THE THOUGHTS THAT ARE THE EXPRESSION OF THAT MIND ARE FROM WHAT MATERIAL REALITY IS PROJECTED FROM AND CREATED BY. THE REALITY OF ALL IS MIND, IT IS THE DOMINANT REALITY ABOVE PHYSICAL MATERIAL REALITY.

SO WHY DO I SAY SOMETIMES THE PEOPLE ARE BURNING IN THE LIGHT OF SEPARATION WHEN EVERYBODY ELSE SEEMS TO THINK THAT THE LIGHT IS SUCH A GOOD THING? BECAUSE THE LIGHT ORIGINATES FROM THE DARKNESS, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND, AND THE DARKNESS IS THE PRIMEVAL WATERS OF CREATION IN THE WOMB OF THE GODDESS. WE EXIST IN A DIVINE WOMB, AS AN EGG EMBRYO I AM PRINCIPAL THAT IS AN ABSOLUTE SCIENTIFIC REALITY. IF YOU HAVE CONSCIOUSNESS, IT IS NOT CONNECTED TO THE COLLECTIVE UNCONSCIOUS. YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS IS CONNECTED TO YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS MIND, AND YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS MIND IS FEMININE IN NATURE AND IS WHAT IS CONNECTED TO THE COLLECTIVE UNCONSCIOUS ANIMA MUNDI. THE ANIMA MUNDI IS THE DIVINE FEMININE REALM OF SPIRIT. CONSCIOUSNESS IN ITS MOST ABSOLUTE STATE IS SO CONTRACTED THAT IT DEFINES SEPARATION, IT IS THE DETAIL TO BIG PICTURE, AND IT IS NOT CONNECTED TO THE GREATER NATURAL REALITY DIRECTLY. WHEN YOU GET TO THE PRIMORDIAL WATERS OF DARKNESS IN THE WOMB OF CREATION OF THE GODDESS, YOU WILL FIND THAT EXISTENCE AS A SPIRITUAL BEING IN AN OCEAN MEANS THAT EVERYTHING IS CONNECTED BY THE WAVES THERE IN. IT IS BIG PICTURE TO DETAIL, WHICH IS WHAT HOLDS HOMEOSTASIS TOGETHER AND HOLDS BALANCE. SO IF EVIL PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO GAIN POWER AND CONTROL OVER OTHER PEOPLE, THE ONLY WAY THAT THEY WOULD SUCCEED TO ANY DEGREE IS TO ISOLATE THOSE PEOPLE IN THE IGNORANCE THAT THE PHYSICAL MATERIAL WORLD IS THE ONLY REALITY, SEPARATING THEM FROM THE BIG PICTURE TO DETAIL DEVINE FEMININE REALITY, WHICH THESE EVIL PEOPLE HAVE DONE THROUGH VIOLENCE, AND THE USE OF VIOLENCE FOR THESE ENDS IS ONLY POSSIBLE IN THIS SUPERIMPOSED STATE OF IGNORANCE, AS THE PATRIARCHY. SO THE OUTER CRESTOS LIGHT PARTICLE MATRIX THAT IS THE DIVINE MASCULINE SIDE AND THE LIGHT, IN ITS REFINED AND CONTRACTED STATE OF CONSCIOUSNESS IN A PROPER STATE OF BALANCE WITH THE DIVINE FEMININE IS ABSOLUTELY A GOOD THING. HOWEVER, SINCE THE ONLY WAY FOR THESE EVIL PEOPLE OF THE PATRIARCHY TO GAIN POWER OVER OTHERS IS TO CONVINCE THEM THAT MATERIAL REALITY IS THE ONLY REALITY AND CUT THEM OFF FROM THE LIVING WATERS OF THE DIVINE FEMININE GODDESS, CORRESPONDENCE IN NATURE BEING MILK AND BEING BREASTFED, YOU HAVE A STATE TO WHERE AS THE DOGON HAVE SAID OF OGO, BECAUSE OF THEIR TRANSGRESSIONS AGAINST NATURE IT SELF THEY HAVE FOUND THEMSELVES IN A PLACE WHERE THEY HAVE NO WATER WHATSOEVER, THEY ARE PURELY MATERIAL BEINGS WITH NO TRUE CONCEPT OF ANYTHING SPIRITUAL BEYOND THE MATERIAL WORLD, ALL OF WHICH CORRESPONDS TO THE DIVINE FEMININE PRINCIPLE OF THE SPIRITUAL ELEMENT OF WATER. SO THEY ARE LITERALLY BURNING IN AN INFERNO OF THE LIGHT AS IT IS OUT OF BALANCE WITH THE DARKNESS, BECAUSE THEY HAVE VILIFIED THE DARKNESS, AND THUS THEY HAVE NO WATER BECAUSE DARKNESS IS THE DIVINE FEMININE WATER IN THE WOMB OF THE GODDESS. THE ALTERED EGO IS THIS OUT OF BALANCE STATE OF BELIEF IN THE MATERIAL BEING THE DOMINANT OR THE ONLY REALITY, LEADING TO YOU SUPERIMPOSING ON YOURSELF OUT OF IGNORANCE A STATE OF SEPARATION FROM EVERYTHING ELSE AS IS DEFINED BY THE LIGHT OUT OF BALANCE WITH THE DARKNESS. THE EGO IS YOUR SENSE OF SELF HEALTHY AND IN BALANCE KNOWING THAT YOU HAVE A SELF AS AN EMBRYO, AND THAT YOU ARE ALSO INSIDE AN EGG WITH EVERYTHING ELSE, WHICH IS ALL CONNECTED, AND ARE ALL DIFFERENT PARTS OF YOURSELF.

IF YOU LOOK AT THE KANGA SYMBOL OF THE DOGON, IT IS A SYMBOL OF THE INNER DIVINE FEMININE WORLD OF S I N. SIN WAS A WORD THAT WAS VILIFIED BY THE PATRIARCHY WHICH REALLY MEANS TO LOOK WITHIN AND THE INNER WORLD, SIN IS THE WORLD WITHIN, NOT WHAT IT HAS BEEN MADE OUT TO BE BY THE IGNORANCE SPREAD BY THE LIES OF THE PATRIARCHY. YOU SEE, THE PATRIARCHY KNOWS THAT IF YOU HAVE AN ACTIVATED KANGA INNER WORLD AND A KNOWLEDGE AND AWARENESS THEREOF, THEY CANNOT CONTROL YOU. THEY CAN'T EVEN THREATEN YOU WITH VIOLENCE, BECAUSE AS HAS BEEN SEEN OF THE MASTERS OF THE EAST, THAT ACTIVATED KANGA INNER WORLD CAN FUEL SUPERNATURAL PHYSICAL ABILITIES OF SELF-DEFENSE EVEN ON THE PHYSICAL PLANE, NOT TO MENTION THE EXTREMELY POWERFUL BEINGS IN THE DIVINE FEMININE WORLD THAT MAY ALSO HELP PROTECT YOU IF YOU ASK THEM. SO THE ONLY THING THE PATRIARCHY HAS TO USE IS LIES, THE ABRAHAMIC RELIGIONS DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO USE TO CONTROL YOU EXCEPT FOR LIES! IF YOU BELIEVE THE LIES THEN THEY CAN CONTROL YOU. THE MORE YOU EXAMINE EVERYTHING ABOUT THEIR BELIEF SYSTEMS THE MORE THAT YOU WILL SEE THAT THEY ARE ALL THINGS USED AS TECHNIQUES OF BRAINWASHING THAT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH REAL SPIRITUALITY. FOR EXAMPLE, THE SYMBOLISM OF THE CHILD OF A GOD DYING ON A CROSS, IF THEY GET YOU TO BELIEVE THAT IS IN ANY WAY A GOOD THING THEN THEY HAVE OPENED THE DOOR TO BE ABLE TO ABUSE YOU INDEFINITELY UNTIL YOU CLOSE THAT DOOR BY CHANGING YOUR BELIEF SYSTEM. A GOD THAT SENDS HIS ONLY SON TO DIE ON A CROSS IS A SICK PIECE OF CRAP, A GOOD GOD WOULD NEVER SEND HIS OWN CHILD TO DIE, THAT IS SICK. THEIR WHOLE BELIEF SYSTEM RIGHT FROM THE GET-GO IS BASED OFF OF SOMETHING INCREDIBLY WARPED AND TERRIBLE. I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I WOULD NEVER INTELLIGENTLY AND WITH AWARENESS PUT MYSELF IN THE HANDS OF A GOD THAT LIKES TO KILL HIS OWN CHILDREN, THAT GOD CAN TAKE A LONG WALK OFF OF A SHORT PEER AND DISAPPEAR. THE THING IS, THEIR CONCEPTION OF GOD IS A FALSE ONE. IT'S NOT REAL, THE REALITY OF DEITY IS ONE THAT REQUIRES A BALANCE OF THE DIVINE MASCULINE AND THE DIVINE FEMININE, AND ONE WHERE THE DEITIES LOVE AND NURTURE THEIR CHILDREN AND DON'T MURDER THEM.

THE PATRIARCHY AND THE ABRAHAMIC RELIGIONS WANT HIGH NATURAL TECHNOLOGY. EVEN IF THEY WERE ABLE TO GRASP SOME OF THE CONCEPTS OF HIGH NATURAL TECHNOLOGY, FOR EXAMPLE, THEY COULD NEVER GO THROUGH A WORMHOLE SUCCESSFULLY BECAUSE IN ORDER TO TRAVEL THROUGH A WORMHOLE YOU HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE COSMIC EGG OF GODDESS ISIS. SINCE THEY ARE AT WAR WITH THE GODDESS, IF THEY TRIED TO GO THROUGH A WORMHOLE I CAN ALMOST GUARANTEE YOU THAT THEY WOULDN'T COME OUT ON THE OTHER SIDE, OR SHE WOULD SEND THEM STRAIGHT OUT OF THE WORMHOLE INTO THEIR DESTRUCTION. DO YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN? IF THEY TRY AND ENTER THOSE REALMS THEY WOULD NEED TO ENTER TO UTILIZE HIGH NATURAL TECHNOLOGY, THEY'RE GOING TO RUN SMACK DAB HEAD-ON INTO ALL THE DIVINE FEMININE BEINGS THAT THEY HAVE VILIFIED KNOWN AS DEMONS, WHO ARE REALLY JUST SPIRITS IN THE DIVINE FEMININE REALMS OF REALITY, MANY OF WHOM PLAY ROLES IN THE MECHANICS OF NATURE. AGAIN, YOU HAVE A SITUATION TO WHERE SINCE THE PATRIARCHY HAS DECLARED WAR ON THE DIVINE FEMININE WORLD AND THE NATURAL WORLD, THEY WOULD NEVER BE ABLE TO UTILIZE THE CONCEPTS OF HIGH NATURAL TECHNOLOGY. YOU HAVE TO BE IN A BALANCED STATE OF AFFINITY WITH THE GODDESS AND THE DIVINE FEMININE TO USE RIGHT BRAIN TECHNOLOGY, OTHERWISE YOU CAN'T EVEN ACCESS THOSE PLANES OF EXISTENCE MUCH LESS SUCCESSFULLY USE THAT TECHNOLOGY!

THIS IS ONE OF THOSE TOPICS WHERE I COULD GO ON AND ON AND ON CITING EXAMPLE AFTER EXAMPLE. I FEEL THAT I HAVE PUT ENOUGH INFORMATION HERE TO SUCCESSFULLY HAVE CONVEYED THE POINTS I'M TRYING TO MAKE. SO UNTIL NEXT TIME, KEEP DARING TO DREAM MY LOVELIES!

LONG LIVE DIVINE CHRONOS AND THE DIVINE FEMININE EMPIRE OF THE BLACK SUN, THE COSMIC EGG OF THE GODDESS, AND ALL CORRESPONDING PLANES OF REALITY WITH ALL THE BEINGS RESIDING THERE IN!

BLESSED BE!

~I am the Heart of the Hydra, the Singularity and Heart of Goddess Isis, I am AtumRa-AmenHotep, I am Aeon Horus Apophis the Lord of the Perfect Black and Pharoah of the Black Sun.

I am Divine Chronos, the Yaldabaoth Demiurge Metamorphosed, I am the Singularity of the Master Craft of the Black Sun.

Azazil-Iblis-Maymon, Abzu-Osiris-Typhon-Set-Kukulkan, Nummo-Naga-Chitauri,

Mégisti-Generator Starphire~

#illuminati #illuminator #illuminated #lightbearer #morningstar #lucifer #Draconian #anunnaki #enki #enlil #anu #inanna #dumuzi #hermes #trismegistus #Azazel #starfamily #horus #Demiurge #Sophia #archon #AI #blacksun #saturn #iblis #jinn #Maymon #ibis #thoth #egypt #esoteric #magick #dogon #dogontribe #digitaria #nummo #nommo #Naga #tiamat #serpent #dragon #gnosis #gnostic #gnosticism #Anzu #watcher #watchtower #yaldaboath #Sirius #scientology #aleistercrowley #typhon #echidna #ancientaliens #TheGrays #grayaliens #aliens #yeben #andoumboulou

[iguanablues]

Not to mention that a few major factors in being a 'morning' or 'evening' person are genetics and age, two things we absolutely can't control.

Looking at the neurobiology of sleep, the suprachiasmatic nucleus (SCN) is the primary circadian oscillator in the brain (meaning it acts as a pacemaker of sorts through various positive and negative feedback loops).

Studies initially done on the fruit fly identified three mutant alleles of a single gene that had the properties of either increasing or decreasing the circadian period or of disrupting the rhythm altogether.

Studies which were later replicated in mammals. This shows us that our genes can have an impact on if we feel more awake in the morning or evening hours.

Now let's look at age. The way that the circadian rhythm changes based on how old you are is really interesting. Babies synch with their mother's circadian rhythm before they're born, and then get thrown totally out of whack after they've been separated. They also need comically large amounts of sleep, and end up only having 7ish hours of wake time during the day. Similar to cats. Eventually this shifts to a more stable morning chronotype (the timing of behaviors that manifest from one’s circadian rhythm, most notably the tendency to sleep and eat at certain hours of the day) as babies age into adolescence, and then shifts much later as kids age into teens/young adults. Then it shifts AGAIN in adulthood back to an earlier chronotype. Into older adulthood, it continues to drift earlier.

We also know that the variance of the general population's chronotype follows a normal distribution. Meaning we have some very early risers, some super night owls, and a bunch of people that fall somewhere in between.

The paper below is interesting, as it provides a great overview of the topics we've covered thus far and introduces the two-process model. The model describes how sleep regulation relies on both the circadian system, and sleep homeostasis. The basic tennent of sleep homeostasis being that the longer you are awake, the greater your body feels the need to sleep.

The paper suggests that there are modern stressors like artificial lighting and reduced reliance on the sun that puts stress on the two-process system. Social and occupational obligations can desynchronize your internal circadian rhythm and the timing of your sleep.

It concludes by saying that "it is imperative that we did not impose rigid recommendations for what constitutes a “healthy” amount of sleep or “healthy” timing of sleep for an individual based on population averages. It is clear that an individual who does not sleep at his or her ideal circadian timing or for his or her ideal duration will suffer consequences."

So yeah.

Ok wait let her speak

[dreamsummerfyre]

More reflexology

Reflexology stimulates the body to produce those feel-good chemicals known as endorphins.[…]

It also ranks right up there as one of the best romantic gifts you can give your partner, especially in a pinch. Pin this thought under your cap: “Of course I didn't forget our anniversary darling. Now lay back and kick off your shoes…”

[…]

Reflexology is a natural way to stimulate healing in the body, and a healthy body is a body that feels good. Many folks have been amazed at the instant relief they have had from just a few minutes of deep pressure on the feet and/or hands. Since the hands are usually accessible, you can work on yourself almost any time—in meetings, riding in a car (not if you're driving, please), watching a movie, getting your teeth cleaned—or virtually anywhere you have both hands free.

The ears also have reflex points, and most of us have our ears accessible all the time. The point is that reflexology can be used almost anywhere and anytime to promote balance and give you an instant lift or quick pain relief.

A reflexologist friend of mine was on a plane recently and was fortunate enough to be sitting next to a charming young lady about seven years old. As the plane was descending, the girl began to experience excruciating pain in her ears because of sinus congestion. My friend, being the patient, healing woman that she is, instead of complaining about the little girl's cries, asked her mother for permission to work on her. The mother agreed, and my friend began to work on the girl's palms. Within minutes, the girl was drying her tears and feeling no more pain.

[…]

Homeostasis is the medical term used for the body’s internal balancing act. It means that our unconscious body functions such as body temperatura and glandular secretions are working fo rus to keep u salive and functioning. Life truly is a balancing act.

By using the reflex points on the soles of the feet and palms of the hands, we can stimulate those glands that are not keeping up and help the body become balanced again. For instance, symptoms of a sluggish thyroid gland could include unexplainable weight gain, lethargy, dry skin, and erratic sleeping patterns. These symptoms are signs that the body is out of balance.

More than likely, when your thyroid is out of balance and you rub your thyroid reflex point on the bottom of your foot, it will yell back at you—“ouch!” Keep on rubbing—that's just the thyroid telling you that it doesn't like getting caught sleeping on the job! (We'll get to how you can tell which areas or glands are sluggish in later chapters.)

The body has four main eliminative channels that serve as exit routes for waste products. These include:

• The bowel • The urinary system (kidneys and bladder) • The respiratory system (lungs and sinuses) • The skin When the body, or a particular organ, is sluggish due to a buildup of waste products and then we stimulate that organ to “get back to work,” it will probably eliminate some toxins right away. This is called detoxification. When a body system is stimulated and stronger, it has the energy and ability to kick out toxins settling in it. You will know when your body is detoxifying because of the symptoms you experience.

[…]

Although cleansing of the bowel is a Good sign, you should not experience diarrea after reflexology treatment. A temporary cleansing due to a loosening of the bowel differs from diarrhea. Diarrhea can be caused by a parasitic or bacterial infestation that can dehydrate the body over a fairly short period of time and needs to be addressed.

One of the most common symptoms of detoxifying the body will be a loosening of the bowels. Many necessary, quick trips to the bathroom will prove to you that you needed cleansing. This form of detoxifying after a reflexology treatment usually lasts no longer than a day. It is also a positive sign. You should not try to stop this cleansing process by taking any medications that would constipate you—let the cleansing begin!

The urinary system will carry out waste products in the form of urine. The urine may be stronger smelling, and you may have to visit the bathroom more often for a day. This should also be encouraged. Drink plenty of pure water to help flush out the toxins.

Sometimes when I work on someone with lung congestion, they will experience a cleansing through the lungs. This is usually in the form of a phlegmy cough. I believe the reflexology treatment loosens up old, hardened mucus, giving the lungs the opportunity to get rid of it! So, if you get copious amounts of mucus coming from your sinus passages or from your lungs in the form of a cough after reflexology, you can count on this being a cleansing process.

Do not thwart the process by taking cough medications to inhibit your lungs from expelling the mucus. This will only stop the cleansing process, which the reflexology treatment was designed to do in the first place! Instead, drink lots of water to speed up the process. Foul breath is another strange symptom that may be experienced after a deep reflexology treatment. Again, this is due to toxins in the system, usually in the lungs, that have broken free and are leaving the body.

The skin is our largest eliminative organ and we typically eliminate two pounds of waste materials (perspiration) every day, mostly through the feet.

Detoxifying through the pores of the skin can show up as any type of skin eruption, including pimples, boils, rashes, or cold sores. Sweating during a deep treatment is sometimes experienced. This is the natural way your body rids itself of waste through the skin. When a treatment is effective in detoxifying, you should not be surprised if your body odor changes for a day. In fact, after my first treatment, I smelled like maple syrup! Just before I panicked about being nicknamed Aunt Jemima, the smell subsided.

Endorphins are substances released by the pituitary gland that affect the central nervous system by reducing pain. Their effect on the body is similar to the effects of using pain-killing medications such as morphine.

[…]

Reflexology is safe and effective and only helps the body do what it was designed to do anyway. So unless you are grossly negligent (or using instruments improperly) you really can't hurt anyone with reflexology.

[…] Every therapy has its own set of contraindications, and reflexology is no exception. Contraindication means that sometimes a therapy is not recommended for someone with specific problems. We will go over a more detailed list in later chapters, but for now, here are some general things to keep in mind when using reflexology:

• People who are very tender to the touch can include people with degenerative conditions such as diabetes or urinary system problems, and the elderly. Do not overwork these people. • When working on babies, it is important to not overwork them. Use a very gentle pressure and work no longer than 10 to 15 minutes for the entire treatment. • Do not work directly on any injuries or foot conditions, and do not work an area that is painful to the touch. • Do not overdo pregnant women, especially if they are prone to miscarriages. The one serious contraindication for reflexology that I always abide by is someone who is pregnant and who has had trouble carrying a pregnancy to term in the past. This could indicate that she lacks muscle tone in the uterus, and we would not want to stimulate a cleansing, or stir up the circulation process. Personally, I will not work on anyone who has had this problem before, so as to avoid being blamed if something does go wrong.

[…] Another good thing to remember in all natural therapies is Hering's Law of Cure. Hering's Law states: “All healing starts from the head down, from the inside out, and in reverse order as the symptoms have appeared.” In other words, in true healing, your insides will begin healing first. The outward manifestations of healing will come last—so you may not even notice you're healing right away. Also, the symptoms that you experienced most recently will be the last ones to go away.

The body always takes care of the more chronic ailments or imbalances first. You may not be aware that your pancreas or spleen is healing, but continued effort will eventually bring the outward signs of true health. Therefore, although reflexology may work instantly to alleviate symptoms of imbalance, it will take time and continued use of reflexology to experience true healing—so be patient and enjoy the ride!

--Frankie Avalon Wolfe ibid

[entitycradle]

Psychic Thresholds: anticorporeality, peregrination, and exolocality

As psychics incorporate more noospace within the holographic boundary of their vast egos, they become increasingly disillusioned with being human. The behaviors resulting from this rising disillusionment are typically separated into three discrete stages, each marked by a threshold.

Beyond what is called the anticorporeal threshold, psychics disassemble their bodies and discard everything except what is necessary for cognition.

Anticorporeal psychics use telekinesis to locomote and to maintain homeostasis for their reduced biological forms, eliminating the need for skin, a circulatory system, and limbs. There are many different perspectives within the psychic community as to whether unconscious data processing such as that found in the gut and brain stem is necessary for conscious thought. A psychic on the extreme end of this spectrum may discard their entire body except for the dominant hemisphere of their brain, citing studies on epilepsy that show that hemispherectomies do not disable cognition. This carries the risk of splitting the psychic into a dominant entity and a non-dominant entity, because both hemispheres have some capacity to think even when separated.

Beyond what is called the peregrination threshold, anticorporeal psychics abandon contact with baseline humans in favor of wandering the earth. They can be seen floating several feet above the ground, accompanied by a trail or cluster of objects the peregrine psychic deems important enough to keep close to them at all times. These objects may include: tightly-packed nutrient bricks or psionically oxygenated blood slurries used to maintain their physical form; various personal treasures, such as the corpse of a loved one or an ancient megalith; and bulk construction materials like uncured concrete and steel beams, which are used to create large, seemingly ornamental structures of unknown purpose. Peregrine psychics evenly distribute themselves across the surface of the earth, so most are found above oceans. Peregrine psychics have never been observed interacting with each other.

The final observed threshold is the exolocal gate. Exactly what occurs as a psychic becomes exolocal is unclear. Several days before a peregrine psychic passes through the gate it can be observed developing exotic anatomical features, such as compound eyes (note that psychics typically remove their eyes and other sense organs at the anticorporeal threshold, relying on clairvoyance to perceive the world), multiple webbed phalanges, and ring-shaped boney growths. Passage through the exolocal gate is marked by "cross-sectioning"--the psychic's physical form suddenly flattens and its insides become visible, as if a very thin slice were cut out of the form. This "cross-section" may continue to locomote. It may also alter in appearance, as if the slice were being replaced by other slices taken at different directions and positions, similar to an MRI scan. The cross-sectioning phenomenon is easily compared to representations of what three-dimensional objects would look like upon rotation into a fourth spatial dimension. Less than a minute later, the psychic's entire object collection will also "cross-section", and seconds after that the psychic and its collection will disappear entirely. All broadcast devices attached to a psychic or its collection cease transmitting upon cross-section. The higher-dimensional explanation may suffice: electromagnetic waves have only ever been observed to propagate within our three-dimensional universe, suggesting the broadcast devices may still be functioning, but transmitting in a separate non-intersecting three-dimensional space that the exolocal psychic has rotated into. Whatever the case, this precludes tracking of the psychic beyond the gate. To be pedantic, exolocal psychics don't exist--once the psychic has completed passage through the exolocal gate, it is never observed again.

Heterodox scholars suggest the existence of a fourth, "dark" threshold. In some regions of the universe, galaxies can be observed traveling at high speeds in trails or clusters.

[potatoes83]

I had... have... a pretty horrific crowd anxiety thing. I'm OK in familiar spaces, and in big unfamiliar social events, picture a wedding where you only know the bride or what have you, to put it frankly, alcohol takes the edge off, and I can usually handle it no issue. It doesn't usually cause problems, hasn't really for several years, although there was a recent panic attack at a friend's big flashy 50th.

It was MUCH worse in my late teens/early 20s, and as that is a generally angsty time for most people, I found it compounded when I was dealing with a bout of depression or the like.

The best thing I ever did was force myself to go to the mall. At Christmastime. With tons of people, too close together, too loud, too much heat, too much noise, too much everything! I made myself do it, and made myself keep it together, and that was an inflection point, a term they enjoy overusing in the media... From that moment, no, it didn't magically go away, but it stopped getting worse. Because it was getting worse, to the point that I was having to put shit off because "I just couldn't" on certain days. I reached homeostasis with it, and then it even got better. To the point where 20 years later, I can be a functional, albeit sometimes uncomfortable, adult. I can run a room, I'm the life of the party, I'm the one giving the toast or making the speech. I am utterly drained afterward... but I can do it, and do it well.

Choose the human interaction. Pick the man over the kiosk, talk to someone instead of having doordash abandon food on your doorstep. You're only doing yourself a favor, especially if it's something you have a hard time with in the first place. 🥔