#the top one‚ the blue skull with bird and the snake eating the heart are based on poems

[shiniestcrow]

Pin collection update!

[wjbsart]

A complete, very long list of all GBoard-combinable emojis because I can't find one anywhere.

Ok so for those who haven't seen my stuff (or have only seen my Bionicle posts), I sometimes emoji mashup redraws, with the recent fourth one using GBoard-based fusions. Frustratingly, there's no actual list of fusion-compatible emojis, so I'll attempt to compile them, in a list below the "Read More" thing:

Green/▢ = compatible with fusion Blue/△ = only works with certain emojis Red/◯ = not compatible with fusion

Also, since other people's terms for specific emojis might not match up with mine, I recommend using CTRL+F and then doing this to find the specific emoji you're looking for. This list is in the order presented in GBoard's Emoji menu. Some of them will be generic unicode symbols, I don't know how to change that, sorry for the inconvenience. Also, I won't aknowledge multi-category Emoji.

Smileys and Emoticons

😀Open-mouthed smile▢

😃Wide-eyed smile▢

😄Closed-eyed smile▢

😁Closed-eyed grin▢

😆Laughing▢

😅Sweating smile▢

😂Cry-laughing▢

🤣Cry-ROFLing▢

😭Crying▢

😗Kissing▢

😙Kissing, closed eyes▢

😚Kissing, blushing▢

😘Kissing, winking w/ heart▢

🥰Surrounded by hearts▢

😍Heart-eyes▢

🤩Star-eyes▢

🥳Noisemaker and party-hat▢

🤗Hugging▢

🙃Upside-down▢

🙂Smile▢

☺Blushing, smiling▢

😊Blushing▢

😏Looking off to the side▢

😌Relieved▢

😉Winking▢

🤭Hand over mouth▢

😶Nightmare fuel Mouthless▢

😐Neutral▢

😑-_-▢

😔Pensive▢

😋Licking lips▢

😛Tongue out▢

😝Tongue out, eyes closed▢

😜Tongue out, winking▢

🤪Tongue out, wide-eyed▢

🤔Hmmm▢

🤨Suspicious▢

🧐Monocle▢

🙄Rolling eyes▢

😒Unamused▢

😤Snorting▢

😠Angry▢

😡Angry, red▢

🤬Swearing▢

☹Frown▢

🙁Frown but less▢

😕Confused▢

😟Distraught▢

🥺Pleading▢

😳AWOOGA Flushed▢

😬Yikes▢

🤐Zip▢

🤫Shushing▢

😰Distraught, sweating▢

😧Distraught, shocked▢

😦Distraught, neutral▢

😮Open mouth▢

😯Open mouth, surprised▢

😲Shocked▢

😱Horrified▢

🤯Your head asplode Mind blown▢

😢Crying, single tear▢

😥Crying, less sad▢

😓Sweating▢

😞Dissapointed▢

😖Pained▢

😣Persevering▢

😩Weary▢

😫Tired▢

🤤Drooling▢

😴Sleeping▢

😪Sleeping but different?▢

🌛Left-facing moon▢

🌜Right-facing moon▢

🌚New moon face◯

🌝Full moon face◯

🌞The sun▢

🤢Queasy▢

🤮Vomiting▢

🤧Sneezing▢

🤒Unwell▢

🤕Bandaged▢

🥴Drunk▢

😵Dizzy▢

🥵Hot▢

🥶Cold▢

😷Masked up▢

😇Angel▢

🤠yee haw▢

🤑Money-tongue▢

😎Cool▢

🤓Nerd▢

🤥Lying▢

🤡Clown▢

👻Ghost▢

💩Poop▢

👽Ayy lmao Alien▢

🤖Robot▢

🎃Jack-o-Lantern▢

😈Demon 1▢

👿Demon 2▢

👹Oni◯

👺Tengu◯

☠Skull and crossbones▢

🔥Fire▢

💫Star with trail▢

⭐Star▢

🌟Star with bits▢

✨Stars▢

⚡Lightning◯

💥Explosion◯

💯100△

💢Anime anger symbol◯

💨Steam▢

💦Sweat Droplets▢

💤Zzz▢

🕳Hole▢

🎉Party popper▢

🎊Confetti ball▢

😺😸😹😻😼😽🙀😿😾Literally all the "cat in different emotions" emojis▢

❤🧡💛💚💙💜🖤Literally all the coloured hearts△

♥Heart suit▢

💘Heart with arrow▢

💝Heart with ribbon▢

💖Shiny heart▢

💗Growing heart▢

💓Beating heart▢

💞Swirling hearts▢

💕Two hearts▢

💌Love letter▢

💟Heart in square▢

❣Heart exclamation mark▢

💔Broken heart▢

💋Kiss▢

👥Two silhouettes◯

👤Silhouette◯

🗣Talking silhouette◯

👣Footprints◯

🧠Brain◯

🦠Microbe▢

🦷Tooth◯

🦴Bone◯

💀Skull▢

👀Eyes◯

👁Eye▢

👄Lips◯

👅Tongue◯

👃👂🦶🦵💪👍👎👏🙌👐Every other body part and hand gesture, seriously this isn't even all of them◯

People

Seriously, I don't know why none of the people-category emojis are Fusion-compatible. Let's just move on.◯

Animals and Nature

💐Bunch of flowers▢

🌹Rose▢

🥀Wilted rose◯

🌷Tulip▢

🌺Hibiscus flower◯

🌸Cherry blossom▢

🏵Rosette◯

🌻Sunflower◯

🌼Daisy▢

💮White flower◯

🍂Falling leaves◯

🍁Maple leaf◯

🌾Rice plants◯

🌱Seedling◯

🌿Herb◯

🍃Falling leaves again◯

☘3-leaf clover◯

🍀4-leaf clover◯

🌵Cactus▢

🌴Palm tree◯

🌳Deciduous tree◯

🌲Coniferous tree▢

🏞National park◯

⛰Mountain◯

🌊Wave◯

🌬Wind◯

🌀Tornado symbol◯

🌁Foggy scene◯

🌫Fog▢

🌪Tornado▢

☃Snowman (with snow)▢

⛄Snowman (without snow)▢

❄Snowflake

🏔Mountain with snow◯

🌡Thermometer◯

🌋Volcano◯

🏜Desert◯

🏝Desert island◯

🏖Beach◯

🌅Sunrise/set (water)◯

🌄Sunrise/set (mountains)◯

☀Sun▢

🌤Sun with cloud◯

⛅Sun and cloud◯

🌥Cloud with sun◯

🌦Sun and cloud with rain◯

☁Cloud▢

🌨Snowcloud◯

⛈Stormcloud◯

🌩Thundercloud◯

🌧Raincloud◯

💧Drop◯

☔Umbrella with rain◯

🌈Rainbow▢

✨Sparkles▢

🌙Crescent Moon◯

☄Comet◯

🌠Shooting star▢

🌌Milky Way◯

🌉Bridge◯

🌆City in the evening▢

🌃City at night▢

🌍🌏🌎Earth▢

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘The moon◯

🙈🙉🙊🐵Monkeys, wise or not▢

🦁Lion face▢

🐯Tiger face◯

🐱Cat face▢

🐶Dog face◯

🐺Wolf face◯

🐻Bear face▢

🐨Koala face▢

🐼Panda face▢

🐹Hamster face◯

🐭Mouse face◯

🐰Rabbit face▢

🦊Fox face◯

🦝Raccoon face◯

🐮Cow face◯

🐷Pig face▢

🐽Pig nose▢

🐗Boar head◯

🦓Zebra head◯

🦄Unicorn head▢

🐴Horse head◯

🐸Frog face◯

🐲Dragon head◯

🦎Lizard◯

🐉Dragon◯

🦖T-Rex◯

🦕Diplodocus◯

🐢Turtle▢

🐊Crocodile◯

🐍Snake◯

🐁Mouse▢

🐀Rat◯

🐇Rabbit▢

🐈Cat▢

🐩Poodle◯

🐕Dog◯

🐅Tiger◯

🐆Leopard◯

🐎Horse◯

🐖Pig▢

🐄Cow◯

🐂Bull◯

🐃Water buffalo◯

🐏Ram◯

🐑Sheep◯

🐐Goat▢

🦌Deer▢

🦙Llama▢

🦘Kangaroo◯

🐘Elephant◯

🦏Rhinoceros◯

🦛Hippopotamus◯

🦒Giraffe◯

🐒Monkey▢

🦍Gorilla◯

🐪🐫Camels◯

🐿Squirrel (why does the squirrel of all things have a Unicode symbol?)◯

🦡Badger◯

🦔Hedgehog▢

🦇Bat▢

🐓Cockerel/rooster◯

🐔Chicken◯

🐣🐥🐤Chicks◯

🐦Bird▢

🦉Owl▢

🦅Eagle◯

🦜Parrot◯

🕊Dove◯

���Swan◯

🦚Peacock◯

🦃Turkey◯

🦆Duck◯

🐧Penguin◯

🦈Shark◯

🐬Dolphin◯

🐋🐳Whales◯

🐟Fish▢

🐠Tropical fish◯

🐡Pufferfish◯

🦐Prawn◯

🦞Lobster◯

🦀Crab◯

🦑Squid◯

🐙Octopus▢

🦂Scorpion▢

🕷Spider▢

🕸Spiderweb◯

🐚Shell◯

🐌Snail▢

🐜Ant◯

🦗Grasshopper◯

🦟Mosquito◯

🐝Bee▢

🐞Ladybird◯

🦋Butterfly◯

🐛"Bug" yeah sure ok◯

🐾Pawprints◯

Food and Drink

🍓Strawberry▢

🍒Cherry◯

🍎Red apple◯

🍉Watermelon◯

🍑Peach◯

🍊Orange◯

🥭Mango◯

🍍Pineapple▢

🍌Banana◯

🍋Lemon▢

🍈Melon◯

🍏Green apple◯

🍐Pear◯

🥝Kiwi◯

🍇Grapes◯

🥥Coconut◯

🍅Tomato◯

🌶Chili▢

🍄Mushroom◯

🥕Carrot◯

🍠Sweet potato◯

🌽Corn◯

🥦Broccoli◯

🥒Cucumber◯

🥬Lettuce◯

🥑Avocado▢

🍆Aubergine◯

🥔Potato◯

🌰Nut◯

🥜Peanuts◯

🍞Bread▢

🥐Croissant◯

🥖Baguette▢

🥯Bagel◯

🥞Pancakes◯

🍳Frying pan◯

🥚Egg (somehow)◯

🧀Cheese▢

🥓Bacon◯

🥩Meat◯

🍗Chicken leg◯

🍖Anime meat◯

🍔Burger◯

🌭Hotdog▢

🥪Sandwich◯

🥨Pretzel◯

🍟Chips◯

🍕Pizza◯

🌮Taco◯

🌯Wrap◯

🥙Stuffed flatbread◯

🥘Paella◯

🍝Spaghetti◯

🥫Can◯

🥣Bowl◯

🥗Salad◯

🍲Pot of food◯

🍛Curry◯

🍜Noodles◯

🍣Sushi◯

🍤Fried prawn◯

🥡Takeaway container◯

🍚Cooked rice◯

🍱Bento◯

🥟Dumpling◯

🍢Oden◯

🍙Jelly Donut Rice ball◯

🍘Rice cracker◯

🍥Fishcake◯

🍡Dango◯

🥠Fortune cookie◯

🥮Moon cake◯

🍧Shave ice◯

🍨Ice cream◯

🍦See above◯

🥧Pie◯

🍰Cake slice◯

🍮Custard mate what kinda custard have you been eating, this is clearly a créme caramel◯

🎂Birthday cake▢

🧁Cupcake▢

🍭Lollipop◯

🍬Boiled sweet◯

🍫Chocolate◯

🍩Donut◯

🍪Cookie◯

🍯Honey◯

🧂Salt◯

🍿Popcorn◯

🥤Soft drink◯

🥛Milk◯

🍼Baby bottle◯

🍵Green tea◯

☕Coffee▢

🍺Beer◯

🍻Beers, plural◯

🥂Champagne glasses◯

🍾Champagne◯

🍷Red red wine◯

🥃Whiskey◯

🍸Martini◯

🍹Cocktail◯

🍶Sake◯

🥢Chopsticks◯

🍴Knife and fork▢

🥄Spoon◯

🔪Kitchen knife◯

🍽Plate▢

Travel and Places

🛑🎡Everything from the stop sign to Ferris wheel◯

🎠Merry-go-round horse▢

🎪🏕Everything from circus tent to campsite◯

🌇City at sunset yes I'm surprised as you are▢

🛤Train tracks◯

🛣Road◯

🗺Map◯

🗾Japan is an island by the sea filled with volcanoes and it's beautifuul!◯

🌐Globe with meridian lines▢

💺Plane seat◯

🧳Luggage◯

Activities and Events

🎈Balloon▢

🎀Bow◯

🎁Present◯

🎇Sparkler◯

🎆Fireworks◯

🧨Dynamite Firecracker◯

🧧Red envelope◯

🎐Wind chime◯

🎏Fish streamers◯

🎎Japanese dolls (that's what the emoji's called, don't @ me with the actual name for them)◯

🎑Moon viewing ceremony◯

🎍Pine decoration◯

🎋Tanabata◯

🎄Christmas tree▢

🎗Ribbon△

🥇🥈🥉🏅🎖Medals◯

🏆Trophy◯

📣Megaphone◯

🥅Goal◯

⚽⚾🥎🏀🏐🏈🏉🎾🏸🥍🏏🏑🏒SPORTS◯

🥌Curling stone◯

🛷Rosebud Sled◯

🎿Ski◯

⛸Skate◯

⛳Golf-hole◯

🎯Target◯

🏹Bow◯

🥏Frisbee◯

🎣Fishing rod▢

🎽Running shirt◯

🥋Martial arts uniform◯

🥊Boxing glove◯

🎱8-ball◯

🏓Ping-pong◯

🎳Bowling◯

♟Chess◯

🧩Puzzle piece◯

🎮Controller◯

🕹Joystick◯

👾Videogame alien◯

🔫Gun◯

🎲Dice◯

🎰Slot machine◯

🎴Flower playing card◯

🀄Mahjong tile◯

🃏Joker◯

🎩Top hat◯

📷📸Camera◯

🖼Painting◯

🖌Paintbrush◯

🖍Crayon◯

🧵String◯

🧶Wool◯

🎼🎵🎶Music▢

🎷🎺🎸🎻🥁Instruments◯

🎤Mic◯

🎧Headphones▢

🎚🎛🎙📻Assorted audio stuff◯

📺TV◯

📼VHS◯

📹Camcorder◯

📽Projector◯

🎥Film camera◯

🎞Film◯

🎬Clapperboard◯

🎭Comedy and tragedy masks◯

🎫🎟Tickets◯

Objects

📱🧻Everything from smartphone to toilet roll◯

🧸Teddy bear▢

🧷🧢Everything from safety pin to baseball cap◯

👑Crown▢

🎒💍Everything from backpack to ring◯

💎Diamond▢

💄👓Everything from lipstick to glasses◯

🕶Sunglasses▢

🥽📁Everything from goggles to folder◯

🕶Newspaper▢

🗞🔎Everything from rolled-up newspaper to right-pointing magnifying glass◯

🔮Crystal ball▢

🧿🔓Everything from Nazar amulet to open lock◯

Symbols

There are no compatible non-repeated Emoji here.◯

Flags

Aaaaand none here either.◯

Feel free to let me know if I got anything wrong.

[the-walking-memelords]

A2 - A Sequel to Allegiances: Chapter 1 : VvvvV

Hello, my lovelies! It is I, your third favourite writer here with the long and highly-demanded sequel to "Allegiances" that I am releasing today, December first, the 1 year anniversary of my posting of the original fic on Ao3! 

Haven't read Allegiances? Read it here!

Tumblr | Ao3 | Wattpad Word Count: 1894 Pairings: Clementine/Louis | Ruby/Aasim | Brody/Mitch

Rating: M for Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Past mentions of Abuse/Trauma

Summary:  Five years have passed since Clementine won her freedom against the plot of the Delta, but trouble always seems to find a way to catch her. 

Because after all, 

the war didn't end with the Delta.

Read it on Ao3!

Read it on Wattpad!

Sunlight filtered through the multicoloured trees as autumn once again. The bright orange and yellow leaves swirled in the chilled breeze and danced along the walking paths. This was the fifth autumn since AJ had come to Ericson’s Boarding School for Troubled Youths. The time before was not something the boy liked to think of, but occasionally his subconscious would remind him of his days that were numbered. But AJ couldn’t think of any of that right now.

The forest was no place for idle thoughts.

Alvin Junior, now nearly eleven years of age, walked along the trail alone with an aged bow and arrow in hand and Clementine’s hat upon his head.

AJ crept past the trees being careful not to step on any leaves or twigs that may give away his presence. The safezone was far behind him, not that anyone abided by that old border anymore. Louis and Aasim were off in some other direction hunting for some extra trading material. The late afternoon sun began to drift lower in the horizon, signalling the end of their hunt if they wanted to be home before dark. AJ knew he should be heading back to the meeting point, but the fresh tracks he followed promised a find worth a scolding from Clementine.

Where are you, deer?

The tracks he stalked moved off the path to a sparse area of the forest. The boy halted still as stone, listening. He didn’t dare blink when movement caught his eye. Not the stumbling gate of a monster, but a smooth, deliberate turn of an animal traipsing along its way. Hiking up the sleeves of his oversized blue hoodie, AJ bit his lip and rubbed his thumb along the rough wire of his bow before slowly nocking an arrow. 

He moved downwind from the deer, moving silently across the terrain as she slowly got closer and closer. The animal had a pristine coat. Unstained by blood or scars from encounters with the undead.

He must be a fast one.

 AJ knew if he missed it was unlikely that he would get the chance for a second shot. 

The sun stung his eyes as he quickly adjusted the brim of his cap and took aim. The stiff wire was difficult to pull back. Part of him wished he could just use his gun, but bullets were getting harder to come by as the years went on.

“Just for emergencies.” Clementine had reminded the boy as he tucked his revolver into his back pocket before setting off with Louis and Aasim.

The deer let out a half-startled grunt as it seemed to sense AJ’s presence, turning swiftly to face him a second before taking off. The deer was fast, but so was AJ. The boy released his arrow which missed its mark of the animal’s neck but lodged in its side, staining its light brown hide with fresh blood as it shrieked and fled.

AJ swore internally as the animal quickly lost him, leaving a trail of crimson drops behind. Now he just had to find it before the monsters did.

His frustration grew thicker with did the foliage as the boy followed the red smears, branches scratching at his face as he raced along. The bushes suddenly broke into a small clearing where AJ finally found his prey. 

The deer lay dying in a patch of grass scattered with wildflowers as if it sought out something peaceful before it’s inevitable end. It’s breathing was rugged and forced, clinging to every bit of life it had. The sight made AJ a little sad, guilty even, knowing he had done this. Killing animals always tugged at his heart a little, but he knew he had to do it so his family could eat.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered as he pulled out his knife, slowly moving towards it to end its misery.

A muffled snarl came from AJ’s left. A walker with a bandanna tied around its mouth wandered into the clearing, paying the boy no mind as it stumbled towards the bigger meal.

“That’s mine.” AJ scowled as he kicked the walker’s knee hard, sending it sprawling to the ground. Without a moment’s hesitation, he jammed his knife into the walker’s skull.

The boy smirked, glad he hadn’t fallen out of practice in the month or so since their last walker sighting. Perhaps it had to do with the explosion, or travellers passing through more frequently, but the monsters have mostly gone away around Ericson’s. Clementine said when they got to the school, things were going to get better. And she was right. Both the human monsters and the monster monsters had gone away.

AJ looked down at the bloodied knife in his grip, and back over at the wounded deer, electing to use his bow instead incase it got feisty. Stepping through the soft grass he aimed another arrow at the deer’s eye before another growl caught his attention. Shifting his aim he sent an arrow flying into the eyesocket of the second walker to approach his catch. By the time he looked back down the deer had died on its own. It’s deep brown eyes now glassy and still.

“At least you don’t come back.” AJ said as he retrieved his arrow.

He gave the second walker a second glance, noticing something familiar. The boy squinted as he ran his hand over the red fabric tied over its jaw. The fabric was cold and wet. Black ink smeared under his touch as he traced the odd symbol painted on.

One long spike on each side with three shorter ones in the middle. Spikes pointed down like teeth. The formation reminded him of this one sassy expression Rosie would make when she wasn’t getting as much attention as she’d like. The teeth were painted on the cloth over the walker’s actual mouth. 

Is this supposed to stop it from biting people?

Doesn’t seem like it would work.

Why not just kill it?

The setting sun reminded AJ that he didn’t have time for this, but once the boy’s curiosity was piqued it was hard to ignore. Running back to the first walker, he checked the bandanna again and just as he suspected, there were the teeth, though older and more faded than the second.

Just like the other one.

Where they part of the same group? 

But they look so old and the other pain was new...

A skeletal hand brutally digging into his shoulder jolted him out of his thought. AJ whipped around just as the walked pinned him to the ground. The boy pushed his arm against the monster’s throat as its jaws snapped just inches from his face. Unlike the others, this one had nothing holding back it’s lethality.

AJ reached for his knife as he felt himself coming closer to being overpowered, just for his fingers to merely graze the handle as it laid out of reach. 

This is an emergency.

AJ snaked his hand under his back and found the cool metal of his revolver, wedging it out from under him and bringing the barrel to the monster’s temple and pulling the trigger. Blood and brain matter sprayed across the boy’s face and she sounds of the forest were immediately drowned out by an intense ringing in his ears as he threw the walker off of him, taking a moment to lay in the grass and catch his breath. He sat up as the ringing faded, replaced with the scattered chirping of birds and faint moans of what that gunshot just summoned.

Multiple shadows moved among the trees, far too many for one kid to fight. AJ cast a final apologetic glance to the deer he knew he couldn't drag back with him in a timely enough manner to escape the dead, and fled back in the direction he came from.

Anxiety turning to fear as the evening chill settles on his skin and the sunlight spread thin across the land, shadows taking over and hiding all that lurked among the forest. AJ’s heartbeat picked up as he ran. Eventually, the trees turned to all tall dark pillars, indistinguishable in detail. Dodging past one after the other until one dark mass failed to dodge him. 

The impact was solid but softer than a tree, both parties well backwards as AJ quickly brandished his knife.

“Easy there, little dude.” A familiar voice said worriedly.

“L-Louis?” AJ’s iron grip loosened enough for Louis to take the blade from him as the boy heaved, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m here. I gotcha.” Louis put his arm gently on the boy’s should as he pulled him into a hug. 

“Let’s get you home.”

AJ gripped the sleeve of Louis’ worn down coat as he stood. AJ couldn’t believe he still wore that thing, as stained and torn as it had become over the years. Though he supposed Louis hadn’t changed much over the years like some of the others had. His dreads were a bit longer which he mostly tied back in a ponytail, but leaving those same two dreads to hang in his face. He was still easily a head taller than, a fact he periodically reminded her about by resting his elbow on the top of her head.

“Where’s Aasim?” AJ asked as his breathing slowed.

“He’s waiting at the meetup spot, let’s go find him.” He said with a smile.

Leaves crunched under their boots as they found the dirt path once again. With the sky darkening by the minute, they began to head back.

“What the hell were you still doing out here?” Louis asked.

“We’ve been looking for you forever, and then I heard the shot. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starting to freak out”

“I’m sorry.” the boy said, looking down guiltily.

“I was following a deer. I thought if we could kill it then we’d have food for a few days, or maybe  Layla would trade us something cool for it.”

“A deer, huh?” Louis chuckled.

“Now tell me, AJ, how you were planning to drag a whole-ass deer from the middle of nowhere to the meetup point?”

“I thought if I could get it to the path you’d find me and help me carry it.” AJ sighed sadly at the lost catch.

“It’s walker food now though.”

A figure stepped out onto the path a ways in front of them that caused them both to freeze for a moment before letting out a breath at the wave of their friend Aasim.

“Thank god you found him.” Aasim said in a serious yet relieved tone.

“We gotta head back while we still have a little daylight.”

The three of them began to hurry back hoping the walk back would be as uneventful as the walk there.

“You’re not gonna tell Clem I went off on my own, right?” 

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Louis knew he’d be in the same amount of trouble as AJ if Clem found out he allowed it.

“Details or not we’re all in deep shit when we get back.” Aasim sighed.

AJ smiled, knowing the lecture he was going to get from ruby when they returned, but that smile quickly faded, knowing he had is own lecture waiting for him from Clementine.

Maybe the deer wasn’t worth it after all. 

[quiltipcanines]

Witch’s Ladder

There is a hill, somewhere dark and grey, sheltered by an immovable blanket of thunderheads. In the shade of the world, only three trees grew. A towering rowan with orange berries like snake’s eyes, an apple bent low with fruit still young and sour, and the third was long dead, with bark scraped clean and salt soaked deep in the wood. The roots of the trees were old, inseparable from the hill itself, and they were all covered in blood. A young coyote had been too cock sure when he stole into the chicken coop and he had left with a bullet in the breast instead of food in his belly. 

As the coyote lay on his side cradled in tree roots struggling to breathe, an audience was filling the auditorium of branches. The murder of crows had come first. They were alerted by the sound of the gunshot and if anything was needed when that bullet hit its mark, it was family. From the great grand matron, to a chick just old enough to fly, there were sixteen crows and they took up in the rowan tree. Shortly after a stellars jay arrived with the glint of the stars in its eye and the dew of dawn still glittering on its blue crest. It had seen the shot happen, and would not leave a dying creature in its last moments. It flew down to the lowest branch of the leaning apple tree and perched with one foot on a burgeoning fruit and the other on a branch still tipped in the last flowers so it straddled the point where there was no turning back. 

Blood had begun to spread in a halo around the coyote by the time the third and final bird arrived. It was a flicker, with black feathers spread upon its breast like the blood spattering the poor creature it perched above. It landed with a hollow thud in the tree that was long dead and the echo spread down through its roots and deep into the ground. The bright chirps of the flicker hid the last tolls of the coyote. 

Together they were eighteen, and they listened to heed the final words of their cousin. 

Before they could begin, a scrabble interrupted their silence. Heavy footfalls unearthing clods of dirt on that lonely hill preceded the arrival of the last mourner. It was a child, shot through beyond flesh and blood to the soul underneath. All they were was tatters and it was a miracle that they had held together for this long. They managed one shakey step at the top of the hill, then another, before collapsing next to the coyote. The last gleam in the coyotes eyes sparked as he met the child’s glassey gaze. 

“We are dying.” Said the child. In the moments before the child arrived the crows would have agreed, all from the oldest to the youngest. The jay would have agreed, for it had seen it, and the flicker would have agreed, for it felt it in its breast deeper than any other sorrow. The coyote, with the taste of defeat the only thing left on his lips, would have agreed too, but not now. 

“Which of our wounds is more permanent? Which is the most final?” the coyote said through long, bloody teeth. Blood bubbled up from his chest as it spoke, but the question was worth the cost. 

The child was empty, and so, so full. Nearly suffocated under the pressure of its confinement in its false body. The truth of themselves had become broken and twisted beyond what it had originally been. It had been so long since the child remembered the form they took, they way their body felt, that the truth of who they were was nearly as dead as they were. 

“I am lost. My family has forgotten me, and I have forgotten myself. I do not know the teeth in my skull or the way the wind would run along my body. All that’s left is the shadow of myself, a negative space where I used to be. What point is there in life for something like that?” the child spoke with a voice that was more akin to the third echo than the first speaking. 

“We remember.” said the crows. 

“As do I.” Said the jay. 

“The trees have seen you and we live among them. How could we not?” said the flicker. 

The coyote laughed, ignoring the way blood gurgled in its throat. “The trees remember you. They drink my blood now, and tell me all about your grand forgetting. “ The coyote could feel deaths’ arms swing wide, ready to catch it in its fall. With the molten spite and rage still pumping in its heart, the coyote reached out. “I refuse to die in failure, to die in loss. I will offer you a bargain, child. There is no stopping my descent into the grave, but if you have forgotten your teeth, take mine. Bite for me, tear into the flesh and blood of your enemies and give them no quarter. Bury me and eat for me. Taste richness I could never imagine and chew your food thoroughly.” 

With a low growl echoing in its throat, bubbling up through the blood filling its lungs, the coyote opened wide to display it pearly, jagged teeth. The child spared only a moment to look into the coyote’s eyes and see the grim determination and utter conviction of its offer. With a confident hand, they reached forward and pulled the teeth from the coyote’s mouth. The sharpness of the cainines sliced across their palm but they did not falter as they pried the teeth out one by one, and more of their blood began to mingle. The child’s palms were red as the petals of poppies by the time they began to slide the treasured teeth into their own mouth. For a moment it seemed like they would not all fit, that they would be too large and grand to fit their own purpose, but with each tooth added it became clear that they would have fit all along. 

“You have forgotten your wings, child. I can see the scars of where your feathers were plucked. They broke your hands to keep you from flying.” said the oldest crow if a hoarse croak. She peered down at the child, weak as they were like a new-born chick. 

“We shall be their wings then. I shall give you the deepest black of my feathers and so will my siblings until your shadow is cowed by their darkness and obeys. Nothing shall keep you from the skies ever again, and you will be as eminent and unstoppable as the night. For this favor you must always remember your family. Keep us fed and we shall keep you in kind.” In a great flurry of wings, the crows descended from the rowan tree and landed on the child’s arms and back. They began to pluck the feathers from their wings and lace them into their arms. Though the crows gave up their feathers, their own wings did not seem to diminish. They were spared in their sacrifice as spirits as free and generous as theirs would never be grounded. By the time they were done the child’s arms were transformed into broad, black wings that were deep as the void that swallows the horizon between land and sky. When the child spread them for the first time, they felt lighter than they knew possible. 

The child looked over their wings and held them close before looking up at the birds one more time. Muscles that had not been there previously were sore from disuse and ached to spring into action “My bones remember these, I can tell, but how am I to fly if I can’t see where I’m going? It has been so long I do not know how to recognize the landscape of my home.” 

“I will teach you to see, I can do that much.” said the Jay. It glided down before the child and brought its head back. There was a sharp burst of pain in the child’s forehead as the Jay pecked at it, and a trickle of blood traveled down the child’s brow. It fell into their eyes, casting their vision in red. As they tried to blink it away dark shapes began to form and the truth came with them. The cut widened as the Jay pecked on and on. Each drop of blood that fell into the child’s eyes brought the truth into focus. Finally the eye that had been grown over was free and its lids tore free of each other to blink ragged ends. “That eye was stuck, only looking on the inside- you know? How good were you at seeing the layers of yourself? With that eye open you can see all the layers of the world, but it takes time to find the edges. Sometimes things that should line up don’t, but that does not make it less worthy.” said the Jay though a crooked beak. 

The flicker was a timid friend of the child, but not so timid as to never look them in the eye. It watched what the child did for others and each act of kindness brought it closer. Now, sympathy bled black from its breast. “You have lost so much, your form, your sight, your knowledge, but you still have one thing now that you had then; yourself. You still bear the wellspring from which all parts of you spring. With enough strength of spirit and will no matter how many times you cut the branches from the tree they will grow again twice over. Grow your will into ironwood. Walk with the knowledge of Persephone that anything lost can be grown again.” The flicker flew down from the salt worn tree and the child caught the bird before pulling it to their chest. The sound of their heartbeats grew louder until it swallowed them both. “You have a primordial sea inside you. Each beat of your heart is the volcanic thrum of magma clashing with cold, nutritious water. This duality of your soul makes earth with all the riches of Hades. Even outside your original container, your seeds grow true. But you must be vigilant to weed out the smothering human lies that break you down into worm food. Tear them out, and if you can’t, embrace the fire as it washes you clean and their ashes feed you. Live with every inhale, and die with every exhale. Any imposter or false idea of you thrust upon you will wither under your harsh extremes. Show them the child your parents raised.” 

One last moment of silence clung to the flickers words before it brought its head back and struck its long beak against the child’s chest. Blood began to flow down the birds beak like sap from a tapped tree. With each strike the child’s heartbeat became a call and response thunder and waves crashing upon volcanic rock. Their veins turned green beneath their skin and blossomed where it split. As though they had been dipped in ink, the child’s hands began to change. The right became a shadow black, velvety soft like a stain of smoke wrapping around their arm, while the left became marble white with immaculate grace of bone china. The ink that stained their skin dripped from their fingers to form long, precise claws that glinted. The coyote could feel a sense of pride in them, for they were a tool of a predator of skill.  

It was odd for a funeral, but a rebirth could only truly come from a fresh death. The child was heavy with the gifts they had been granted and their sinews ached to sit up. Together, these gifts promised hope that the power of the past, or a power of the future, was within reach and that was the heaviest of all. Gently, they reached out and pulled the coyote onto their lap. Their claws did not cut, for this was to be a gentle goodbye. “I will not thank you with words. I’m not leaving you behind here either. I know you now like, well, like the teeth in my mouth. I will thank you every time I bite and tear and chew the gristle of prey and enemy alike. I can promise you that we will eat much nicer things than gristle. Every time I bite and snarl and howl at the moon you will too, right there with me. Part of you may die tonight, but a part of you has many steps to tread still and I will take them for you.” 

A heavy, sputtering huff escaped the coyote as his chest shuddered. All that had taken to bring him to this point was a moment of bad luck in an effort for survival, but the coyote knew a second chance. “It is a promise then. A promise from all of us. You have given your blood and body, and will give your time to satisfy us. As you tear yourself from this human body feed it to us and you shall be free. Feed your family, guard them, and walk them home. See the divinity within yourself and the more you recognize your own power the more it shall grow. Child, be voracious for yourself.” Blood leaked from the coyotes jaws as he gave his final proclamation. 

The child bent and softly wrapped their arms around the corpse. They could feel that the coyote was still with them. From above, the birds watched the embrace. “Pluck the bullet from its chest so its body can be pure.” The flicker said. 

“It has become a seed of transformation, a culmination of the magic here. Use it to guide you and enact your power.” The jay said. 

The child did not hesitate to follow the instruction of their elders. With steady fingers they reached into the wound that felled the beast. Their new claws slipped in with hardly any resistance. It only took a moment of maneuvering before they tapped against something hard and slick. Carefully, the child plucked it out of the wound. The bullet had indeed changed. The metal had turned into a smooth crystal, grey as a stormcloud. As the child shifted it in their claws, the crystal finally caught the light and it exploded a thunderstrike of color. 

“Now then, you have one last job to do. Take him home, child. Practice so you might better know the way. It is time for him to rest.” The matron crow called. 

Again without hesitation the child nodded and gathered the coyote in their arms.  Out of all they had forgotten, these were the only steps they knew. As long as they had that to hold on to, the child would keep walking that path, hopeful that it would lead them home too.

[yespoetry]

Caitlin Scarano: There Is No Ending

I know we’re all sick of poems with deer but let me explain

 Last night: a forest of hospital beds

 I want to ask all these strangers: do you ever think every day you’re getting closer to your death or do you wake in the morning with hope crusted in the corner of your eyes, your teeth already grinning at the air?

 Grief is a very complex machine, it told me so itself, a matrix

that takes years

A.     to navigate

B.      from you like teeth

 Dear J, I have a few acres all to myself now, you should see them

 I’m sorry you had to turn so many stones

while I looked on at a careful distance

 The male human heart at age 36

Who knew, I guess

 It’s true that I didn’t mind the horses starving outside my window, as long as they

            came when called, as long as they were gentle with their teeth

            I mean, I had many apples going to rot, what else could I have done

 I read about how the water in Lake Superior is replaced every 191 years

 Remember the spot where I dove under and was rolled by a wave and for a moment I did not know what was up or down, what was past or present, you or⁠—

 That winter, the lake froze, trace lines of cracks in the ice colliding, the fractures in my body all met

 In another dream, you’re in front of me⁠—solid, tangible, with a dark beard and corduroy pants

I ask you about dying and he you say, Let’s go to this city I know

Then you disappear into a tangled forest and I follow, stumbling, ripped by thorns

 You’re always just out of reach, always just turning the next corner

 Remember those children we watched while we ate ice cream on that green bench in Sault Saint Marie? Silly

            that isn’t my favorite memory of you, not by far but it’s the one I keep

coming back to

 I took it so I should have wanted it

But the sugar made my teeth ache

 Every memory is two-sided, like that day we lay in the grass watching ships pass through the lochs

Distance is deceptive

It was sunny, the photos you took prove it

            But the wind⁠—

 Or the wind and the rain that day we met at the lighthouse, you wore a black sweater, I hadn’t seen you

            in years, you looked younger, time doing its mirror trick

 The scene draws us

We weren’t ghosts but we were

both adrift, though only one of us knew it

 When I reach the city you spoke of, it’s been abandoned for decades

 Every memory is two-sided, like the time you were driving and the Jeep hit

black ice and spun out

Like the time I was driving and my car died as we coasted down hill

 In a human dream, electric blue hydrozoan creatures blossom in the Superior’s deepest water

 Every memory is two-sided, and nothing is mine to claim

 I run these dirt trails near my house, I think of you, I touch my chest, count my breaths

One day I came upon this mother dear and two fawns, they were tiny, spotted, legs so ready to give out but they did not give out

 J, you should have seen them

  Generational, Domestic

 I drink from the cup that made me

before blood congeals across the top.

 Touch the muscles of your back

while you sleep. What does cruelty express?

 A fear so deep it creates its own

gravity, the world pours in around

 the rim. Despite how light clawed, it could not

get out⁠—not after, not from within. I live by a river

 and dream of living by another river. Throw my baby

teeth into it like coins in a well. Wish and watch

 water pass, think of how it bows and braids,

think of the circulatory system, nervous

 birds on loop. My niece appears in a dirt-stained

dress holding yellow zinnias as they blossom

 and rot, blossom and⁠—Does movement remind you

of death or escape? When you bite the inside

 of my thigh, what memory of violence 

unfurls like a seed? Generational, domestic. Your mother

 tells you she prays for us and I swallow

it whole like a duck egg. A blue mud wasp

 taps against my window, where its always

been. While we sleep, bindweed inches up

 the walls and ceiling. Coils around the lamps.

Tomorrow, we’ll eat the heads of morning.

 A Litany of Dreams You May Borrow

 The one where I pick sunlight off my skin like scales or sequins

 Or I have a boy’s torso and a jaw

that doesn’t lock when I start to laugh

 Any of the dreams with snakes or my mother trapped in a radiator vent

            because they spring from the same well

 My little sister and I are teenagers again, still speaking to each other, and she climbs a sugar maple and never comes back

 The ones where rain comes through the roof but not the ones where it is snowing in my room

 S. and I still live together but a gray horse circles the house, starving

No one names it

 My father is in a hospice bed, holding up his rot-dappled organs one by one

as offerings to me

 The cow pasture

where I’m in a wedding dress carrying a pitcher of his blood

 B. and I are back on the beach at night and she kisses me except this time ocean is made of milk and sweet

 No one invents sin so we sun ourselves on the rooftop

 Any dream of my grandfather⁠—that skull for a face, the parrot watching on, the white sheet and long fingernails

            In fact, you may keep them, convince yourself there is a lesson

 The dream where the brakes gave out

The dream where the brakes gave out

 His head is in my lap and the window is open even though it is January outside

 A war between nations of men takes place in my mother’s dining room

            My sisters and I watch from beneath a table

 Those you can leave: any dream where he says my name

aloud or his mouth is against my hair, any dream

where the dead forgive

 The first girl I loved asking Are you sure you don’t know me? until she disappears

 The whole room slants and I fall from the bed to the wall as if the house is trying to shake me from itself like a parasite

 The dream I had after S. found the knife I hid beneath the nightstand

 The one where I saw our sons using sticks as swords, their mouths yellow

and chose not to have them

 The first gentle boy from my childhood is back and we are in love

 When the church burns down and my sisters and I are blamed

 The one where what I love is not unwell, not in need at all, so I shrink to the size of a kitchen ant and crawl away

 My mother is my daughter and when she speaks, hummingbirds fill her mouth like arrows

 The one where I actually forgive him and he leans back then, rests his eyes, says

            There is no ending

  Alessandra sends me two pictures of her son eating his first strawberry

 while I’m home alone reading about central sleep apnea because this morning Calvin woke me up at 5AM by rubbing my back because (he said) I kept holding my breath and he is afraid (but doesn’t say) that I might stop breathing all together. On our jog today Cara told me that she’s going to try dating again and there isn’t much out there so she’s meeting a corporate lawyer all the way in Seattle for lunch on Thursday. Part of me is jealous—to get to meet strangers that you might have sex with or raise a puppy with is to feel very specifically alive right? The internet says I cannot suffocate in my sleep. I have this one memory of when I’m four or five and my father is sitting in the tub and I just let myself in to the bathroom and ask him how often he clipped his toenails and he laughs like kids are so fucking werid and says and said Maybe once a week? When we can’t stop worrying about each others deaths this is how I know we need each other. I can’t remember Alessandra’s baby’s name even though I met him once when we were in Portland. I don’t want children but one time on a long drive I imagined a three or four year old kid in the backseat of my Subaru asking me smart and weird kid questions and me giving honest answers and developing this whole lifelong relationship with a human like there is a way to never be lonely. I was startled by a sound but it wasn’t really a sound just a door closing in my body. I didn’t tell Calvin about it. Instead we talked about our little sisters and how we’re scared for them. The internet says my brain will panic and wake me up. I tell him I want him to confide in me but what do you say to I have a very real fear that the next time I hear about her it could be that she’s dead. I get it at least somewhat—what it means to see a boat drifting away from you. The last time I saw M she was more angry than any person I can remember it was like being beside a live wire I wasn’t sure if I could speak if I could even ask her if she was okay without making her not okay like the whole world is made of string and it can unravel if you say or even think the wrong thing. I don’t think there is a way to never be lonely. In the pictures the baby’s fingers are red and his laughing and sitting on a checkered picnic blanket and it looks like real summer in Wisconsin. I don’t really want to date strangers again. Everyone good I’ve found I still don’t know how I kept them. Some days I don’t want him to leave the house for fear of what might happen next. I remember when M and I were little she was hardly ever mad just withdrawn and we were there like two islands beside each other never really able to say what we meant or needed and now my mother calls me and she’s just painted the trim in the living room mountain air white and she starts to cry thinking about thirty years in the house where she raised us that she wants to sell and I say You haven't left yet and she says I’m already gone. Calvin just texts his sister now even though he knows he won’t get a response and I imagine those messages floating in a black void with stars because it all goes somewhere. I write back Don't you wish you could remember your first strawberry? The interest promises me I’ll take another breath.

 The mountain has no childhood to speak of

 and no child to soothe. Thought it might tell you something

of its formation, even though it does not remember.

 Or that there is no universally agreed upon definition

of a mountain. It would speak less about light

 and ascension and more about its insides. I have veins,

the mountain would say, a circulatory system of sorts

 but no organs. The mountain would predict your disappointment.

It would refuse your offer for a brain and a heart. Knowledge

 and loneliness, the mountain would explain, pass from sky

to water to stone. Mountain embodies strangeness, thus has no notion

 of strangeness. Mountain understands destination.

It has been desired. It knows you

 think it’s trapped; that it has never left and will never leave.

But, if we let it speak, it would tell you: I have touched

 every corner and crevice of this carved valley. Has seen so much

come and go⁠—loon, kingfisher, lynx. The people that

 tried to erase people. Mountain has hounded

wander. But will have nothing to say about hunger.

 If you sit with it long enough, mountain might admit, I am afraid

of dying. Of the slow wearing, the slow away. Wind and water.

 Mountain will teach you a word that means both companion

and destroyer. Though it does not sleep, mountain dreams,

 of being ripped out by the roots. Mountain wonders

if mountains bleed.

Caitlin Scarano is a poet based in northwest Washington. She holds a PhD in English (creative writing) from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and an MFA in Poetry from the University of Alaska Fairbanks. She was selected as a participant in the National Science Foundation’s Antarctic Artists & Writers Program. Her debut collection of poems, Do Not Bring Him Water, was released in Fall 2017. Her work has appeared in Granta, Best New Poets, Best Small Fictions, Carve, and Colorado Review. You can find her at caitlinscarano.com

[bugcthulhu]

Spanish/Iberian mythological creatures: What Even edition

Oricuerno: The “main” Spanish take on the unicorn (the other being the Escornau). White-furred with a purple head, blue or red eyes, deer hooves topped by small wings, and a twisted black, red and white horn. Usually living in the highest mountain peaks, has the power to turn women into men, and also cure poisonings and purify waters. Its entire body is considered a powerful amulet

Caltrí Snake: Massive and thick-bodied, with red scales. Devours any human it encounters, but weeps for them after the deed is done. Also known as the Calcatrix, which apparently was used to refer to crocodiles.

Cassandre: A beast of multiple colours whose pleasant smell attracts most animals but kills snakes. Between these traits and that it’s commonly assumed to be a lynx, it serves as the local version of the medieval “panthers”

 Jancana: Extremely similar to the cantabrian Ojancano and sometimes treated as its female counterpart, while also a separate being. A hideous, deformed, wrinkled ogress with a single eye (plus two small ones in the nape) and either long, messy hair or snakes in place of hair. Can transform into beautiful women or giant snakes; in the latter case they can only return to their true selves after coiling six times around a man then tongue-kissing them. Also just generally rape men and cut off their tongues afterwards.

 Blue-Legs Garrules: Female child-eater that enters houses through the chimney. Sometimes shown as the partner-in-crime of fellow bogeyman Camunyes

 Velludo: “Hairy One” A headless horse that runs across mountains and empty streets at night, perpetually chased by six furious dogs. Said to be the spirit of a muslim king that murdered his sons (which would be the dogs)

 Lobizon: A werewolf present both in Argentina and parts of Portugal, born from a curse that supposedly befalls the seventh son in any family. A pig-like hairy dog, with blazing red eyes and floppy ears. Devours children and carrion but especially craves animal excrement, a diet that renders its human form yellow-skinned and sickly

 Vera Dwarf: Said to live close to a natural fountain, following close whoever approaches to collect water. Those with a good heart are allowed to pass and protected from all harm, but those with bad intentions are mercilessly beaten. Mentioned sometimes to grow in size as they watch over travellers

 Silbán. A long, haired, long-legged giant whose lair was a cave high in a mountain only he could reach. Raided a nearby village to kidnap and devour women with impunity until he fell in love with his latest would-be-victim. She then escaped his clutches and conspired with the villagers to make him drink poisoned milk.

 Cabrichocho: A blue lamb that subsists entirely on sap and butterflies. Hopelessly smitten with human women, to the point it mimics human speech in an attempt to win them over. Its hide is sought after by wizards, for it grants flight to the wearer.

 Docejo: Bird-like being with a single wing, a single eye, and human lips instead of a beak. Drinks only from a specific river (the Jucar) and will in fact die if it ingests water from anywhere else. Loves music, and entertains itself by loudly burping at night.

 Rosemunho: Evil spirit that appears in the form of whirlwind or a dust devil. Pulls travellers within itself only to toss them to their deaths somewhere else. Can be driven off by just throwing a stone or stick in its direction, because it will go hurl that instead.

 Mairu: Giants said to be responsible for the construction of dolmens and other megalithic constructs across the Basque Country. Usually presented as an all-male race, with lamias as their counterpart, but some myths bring up female Mairu (Mairi) noted for their immense strength. Their arm bones – sometimes the entire preserved arm- possess magical properties

 Hodei: Deity embodying storms, hail and thunder, appearing as clouds. Malevolent, brings down lightning to ruin the crops of farmers. Sometimes considered another of the earth goddess Mari and the dragon Sugaar’s many children

 Darro Goblin: A cryptid whose sole witness described it as something between a monkey and a dog that walked on two legs, with an enormous head and exceedingly hairy ears. Gave terrifying screams

 Mialta: Female bogeyman that force-feeds naughty children with pancakes she cooks herself, and which taste absolutely horrid.

 El Pecado: Literally “The Sin”, a massive lizard so named because of its hideousness. Terrorized the village of Ovijuela until Saint Peter arrived and tamed it.

 Cabanyas Lizard: Another huge, man-eating reptile, so strong it tore apart a mountain with a single strike of its tail.

 Trucafort: A giant bogeyman with a beard so dense and long he keeps stepping on it, thus his tremendous howling. Always seen carrying two enormous boulders; one balanced atop his head, another at hand to smash children with.

 Ome Marin: A humanoid covered in scales, with green teeth and sometimes a “mane” of algae. Prowls the coast devouring anything it can catch, including humans, and especially loves messing with and/or destroying fishing boats, ensuring sailors get stranded. Known sometimes to swim upstream and assault women near rivers.

 Frailecillo: “Little Friar” Ugly, hunchbacked goblins with bony arms and massive feet, dressed in long black robes and emitting a greenish or purplish glow. Sleeping during the day, they are sometimes said to be clever and helpful but often they are extremely violent, entering houses to pinch the eyes of children as they sleep, chop off their limbs or sew their buttholes shut.

 Marés: Child-eating octopuses whose embrace is impossible to break free from.

 Xas: Goblin that takes refuge in abandoned windmills. While they won’t enter inhabited houses they delight in throwing rocks at them, as well as harassing livestock and stealing fruit from orchards

 Gizotso: The basque werewolf. Rather than a curse, it is born from forbidden relations between man and animal. Usually wrapped in chains, and very bloodthirsty; the most common tale about them involves one randomly attacking a woman and ripping off her breasts. Always depicted with one of its legs ending in a round stump instead of a paw.

 Guaraguara: Bogeyman of undefined appearance, but sometimes referred to as a “bug”

 Pauet: The ghost of a child that died at the bottom of a well, crying for help that never arrived, and who now pulls others inside in an attempt to cure its loneliness. Other areas have a feminine counterpart in Maria Gancha (something like “Grabby Mary”) who simply snatches children down her well with hooked claws

Beast of the Clamor: A water monster whose terrible roaring could be heard all across the Ebro river. Legend goes a maiden was sacrificed to the beast to appease its wrath, and even though it worked and it was never heard from again, the unlucky maiden’s ghost is said to still haunt the river to this day.

 Joan The Bear: Heroic giant born from a woman raped by an evil bear. Possessing enormous strength and armed with a just-as-massive iron bar, went on to have many adventures alongside a group of similarly-gifted friends – Arrencapins (who could tear the biggest trees off the ground), Escoltin-Escoltaina (who could hear even the smallest noise) Regiramuntaynes (pushes mountains around) and Bufim-Bufaina (could split the clouds by blowing)

 Pardal Verd: A green, sometimes golden bird whose eggs have healing properties. Usually guarded by a giant serpent, and even then you can only ever take one egg.

 Mother Of Fish: Bigger than man and brightly-coloured, like a sea snake with three heads, two tails and big expressive eyes. Intelligent, can speak and appear in the dreams of others in the form of a fairy. Eating her heads makes even the most barren woman bear children, and her tails can be made into swords.

 Papasopas: A bogeyman that shows up to eat the food that naughty children refuse, but for every bite it takes, it will also bite on the children themselves. Also loves eating flies

 Garos: An evil giant that was eventually bested by an entire village and killed by having a nail driven through his nape. His preserved skull was said to heal and invigorate children

 Jan del Gel: A massive, literal snow man. The third of a series of snow children made by an old couple, unable to bear their own. While the first two were exemplary children up until they melted come spring, Jan ate the couple’s entire food storage then left to the mountains. Comes out during blizzards and freezes any children it spots with a glance, to drag them to his frigid cave and devour.

 Orcavella: A fiendish mountain hag that terrorized an entire village, dabbling in the dark arts and eating children for centuries until finally she got tired of living and buried herself alongside a hapless shepherd she had under her control. None could approach despite his screams due to the swarms of snakes protecting the tomb, and they are said to protect it even now.

 White Fox: Self-explanatory, but also has green ears/spots above the eyes and its tail, legs and teeth are entirely black. Feeds on flowers and occasionally stealing lunches from people. Its blood is highly sought after for its magical properties, but whoever meets its gaze feels immense panic.

 Bird of Joy: Crimson-coloured, with green-and-white spots and black wings/beak. Start life as maggots on the White Fox’s body once it dies, eating one another until only one remains and matures. Eagles and other birds of prey give it wide berth. Loses its wings shortly before death, and if anyone pulls out the eyes once its dead, they will see them become magic diamonds.

 Gollut: Hideous, narrow-eyed goblins that supposedly employed dark magic brought bad luck. Actually has a real life basis: Up until the beginning of the 20th century Catalunya housed a small, possibly inbred community plagued by deformities and dwarfism, living in squalor

 Enemiguillo: “Little enemy” Microscopic, invisible goblins under the control of witches and usually held within a bottle. Their attacks express as countless burning bites on the legs and groin

 Sopeira Serpent: A princess transformed into a massive snake by a curse. A knight failed to break it and ultimately killed the princess-serpent, after which her castle sank into the ground, taking with it everyone inside

Since these compilations seem to have gotten kinda popular here’s a bunch more i’ve done before , which started as me trying to help @tyrantisterror pad out his fantasy setting

[chibisquirt]

Darcy Lewis quickwrite - a/b/o, alpha!Darcy, soulmarks, crossover with a mystery fandom, incomplete part 1/?

The rainbow bridge was broken, and it hurt to breathe.  And... 

Nope; no and, there.  Those were the only two things Darcy knew.

“Fuck,” she whispered, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”  

The rainbow bridge was broken.  She had been there, she had seen it break.  She had heard Jane cry out as that giant wolf-thing--Fenrir?  Mythology suggested wolf-thing might have been Fenrir--snapped the bridge in half.  Lady Sif, who had thrown her clear of the wolf-thing’s snapping jaws and onto the bridge, had been beside her for a moment, the two of them crouching together, tangled in a swirl of colors before the wolf-thing’s teeth had closed and the snap and whiplash of the breaking gate had sent them whirling together into the void.

And now Sif was gone, and Darcy was well and truly lost.

She hugged her aching chest--she was pretty sure the difficult breathing came from her trying to breathe in a vacuum, and that was just ten billion kinds of awful that she was not thinking about right now--and tried to get to her feet.  After a couple of false starts, she even managed it.

She stood on a gently-sloped hill, surrounded by what she would have thought were Stonehenge if it weren’t for the fact that she had been to Stonehenge, and this was not it.  Around her, the grass spread out on an endless see of identical rolling hills--beautiful, waving, with patches tinting gently towards blue, like Kentucky, or purple, like Scotland.  

And... that was it.  No forests, no structures, no-- 

Wait.  

Okay, so off... that-a-way, whichever direction that-a-way was... there were some mountains.  Very, very far away mountains.  With suspiciously white tops.

Darcy spun in a circle, studying the horizon more closely, and discovered a hazy patch of darkness on the edge of of the sea of grass, opposite the mountains, which she thought might be a forest.  She made a face to herself, holding up her hands in front of her as she weighed the difference, and then started walking.

Possible-forest it was.

***

Okay, terminology point:  possible-forest was now neither relegated to potential, nor a forest.  Instead, it was actual--Darcy stared up at the giant trunks which toward over her with more than a little trepidation--and it wasn’t exactly a forest.

She would call it more of a jungle, really.

She hesitated there on the edge of the forest for a good long while.  It wasn’t like she had any particular calling to enter the forest, after all.  She didn’t even particularly want to.  It was just that she didn’t have any other indication of direction, either; this place was...  well, it wasn’t completely barren, but it was barren enough.

Maybe I don’t really have to go in.  

But she did, and she knew it.  Her legs were aching, and her back was sore; she was sweaty all over, but particularly along her face and neck, and her hair was clinging to her skin something awful.  Her legs had been protected during her long walk towards the forest jungle by the loose jeans she was wearing, but nothing, it turned out, was protecting her legs from the jeans, and the chafing was becoming problematic.  The sun was hot, and while Darcy always slathered SPF-5,000,000 on her face in the morning--thank you, New Mexico, for that particular lesson--that morning had been, by a rough estimate, over fifteen hours ago, between the various world-jumps, and judging by the light it was still early afternoon.

Basically, Darcy needed shade, and water, and not to be wearing pants, and she was way more likely to get all three of those in the jungle than out here on the plains.  

Even if, up close, the jungle did look awfully forbidding.

There were probably snakes.

Darcy shuddered, and then clenched her jaw.  No one else was there to do it for her, after all; she would just have to do it herself.  

Maybe I could just stick to the edges of the jungle...

***

To her surprise, she actually could.  

She entered the jungle in the first opening she saw, and then cautiously picked her way through the unknown flora, stepping over vines and ferns, and keeping an eye out for creepy-crawlies.  She kept the sunlit sea of grass on her left, and just tried to keep within about twenty yards of it.  To her surprise, this worked on a couple of levels:  not only did she have a (very rudimentary) navigational tool, but there was more a path near the edge of the jungle than she had been expecting.  

Her stomach rumbled, and Darcy dithered.  

The problem was, although there were obvious, brightly colored fruits hanging from the trees overhead, she didn’t dare to eat them--not yet.  She had no way of knowing if they were poisonous or not, but if toxic plants and animals were, as she had always been told, more brightly colored, things weren’t looking good.  After several hours in the hot sun, she needed water--and the humidity which made the air thick and heavy wasn’t helping that--but still, she didn’t dare try the fruit, and her stomach rumbled and turned unhappily.

The smell wasn’t helping, either.  It had actually been pleasant when she first entered the jungle, the heavy, passion-fruity scent of the flowers mixing with the sort of bright green smell of the ferns.  But as she had continued on, the green, fern-like smell had grown stronger and stronger, until it almost seemed like it curled around her, as if every third step brought a new wave of it.  Her head pounded, pounded under the onslaught of it.

Overhead, birds twittered, called, shouted, whistled... The noise was astonishing.  She kept her eyes peeled, and spotted a pair of what looked like monkeys swinging overhead, only for them to stop, mid-swing, and exchange a tender hug before going about their--pardon the phrase--monkey-business.  She had to smile at the sight, exhausted and frustrated as she was; there was just something so charming about the two animals pausing in their day to love each other...  

Darcy rubbed at her ribs, along the left side where her soulmark rested.  A sight like that one, it was just fundamentally uplifting, that was all.  It gave a girl hope that there were good things after all in the world...  or at least, in this world.

 And with that thought lightening her steps, Darcy continued to make her way in the direction she was arbitrarily calling south, the alternative--the endless sea of grass--always stretching away on her left.

***

She found a cave about two-thirds of the way through what was--she was mostly guessing, here--this world’s afternoon.  The ground had been sloping gently upward for about half an hour when she came upon it, a tumble of boulders seemingly dumped on the ground out of nowhere, right before an enormous precipice.  It looked...  Darcy turned towards the grass sea, imagining it, but it really did look almost exactly as if someone had set up an enormous pile of bowling pins, and then forgotten to roll the ball until a forest grew up around the pins, anchoring them into place.  

An exhausted smile lit her face at the mental image, and, pulling down and re-fastening her hair into a more stable arrangement which would maybe lessen the pounding in her skull, she picked her way towards the cliff face to see if there were any way down.  

There was one, too:  a small, fragile path, but manageable.  At least on foot--if she had been riding anything, though, from motorcycle to horse to mountain goat, she would have been screwed.  

About fifty feet straight down from the Bowling Pins, she found two surprises, both of which made her heart pound in her chest:  the cave... and signs of a camp.

The cave was a godsend.  Sheltered, secure as anything was out here, and, miracle of miracles, a tiny waterfall trickled through the back of it, obviously making its way down to the river at the bottom of the gorge Darcy was descending.  

Darcy splashed water on her face, and then, after a moment of thought, stripped of her shirt, unhooked her bra, and washed her pits, too.  She didn’t put the clothes back on; instead, she rinsed them in the stream as best she could and draped them over some nearby rocks to dry.  This cave was the best place to rest she had seen all day, hell if she was leaving it any time soon; she might as well go full wild-woman and leave the girls out.  Besides, like any Alpha, she gave off a lot of scent; no point in letting it build up more than it had to.

The cave wasn’t chilly--in the humidity, it was the opposite of that--but she wasn’t sure how long the heat would last once the sun went down.  And she wanted a weapon.  It would have been nice to have had a fire... 

There were marks on the walls, she realized suddenly.  She had been staring at them for five minutes not realizing what they were, but as soon as she thought of fire, it clicked.  Those shadows, the ones that got darker towards the roof of the cave...  They were soot marks!  Her heart leaped into her throat, and she jumped to her feet again.  

Before everything with Thor and Jane and Asgard and Sif that morning--now most of a day ago--she had been wearing a sweater to ward off the chill in the lab; in the grass, she had tied it around her waist to avoid losing it, and since it was fairly clean, she had left it unwashed.  She donned it now: the last thing she needed was some asshole coming on her sitting with her tits out.

That done, she approached the wall, peering more closely at the soot marks.  Apart from coming off on her fingers, making an awful mess and confirming via scent that, yes, they were the signs of a fire, they gave forth no clearer answers.  She had no idea how long ago they had been left, how many people had sheltered here--the cave was large, and would have fit nearly twenty--or what... what...

She paused, sniffing.

...what that incredibly good smell was...!

It had infiltrated the cave slowly, quietly undermining, and then toppling, the awful, intrusive, sickly-green fern-and-fruit scent which was making Darcy’s head pound so.  Except it wasn’t pounding anymore, Darcy realized, because the new scent was all around her, instead.  

It was something subtle, not like the ferny scent at all.  Something soft, like the crinkle at the corner of a man’s eye.  Something clean, rich but also refreshing, and only mildly sweet.  It smelled almost exactly like a hot, fresh cup of coffee, except that it actually smelled absolutely nothing like coffee.  

Darcy growled under her breath and tossed her hair before pulling the tangled mess, once again, into a messy bun on the top of her head.  She didn’t really wonder what the scent was, although that had been her first reaction.  It was the first time she had ever smelled this scent, but she still knew exactly what it was.  Knew it in her bones.

This was the smell of an Omega.

Specifically, an Omega in Heat.

[aspidities]

Septhusana

There is a land, far beyond this bed, this room, and this house, my child.

Far beyond skies blue, and skies red as heart’s blood. It is a land of never-ending, whispering grass, thick as a man, with golden scimitar flowers that weep overhead, six stories tall. It is a land of great hairy, savage manticores, and trifold sphynx that lurk in the hollows where water collects in shallow pools. It is also a land of thundering oliphants, tall enough to eat the scimitar flower, and they are tamed and ridden by the people of the Ni Septh, the tribe of the Grey Skinned God.

In this tribe there was but one ruler, Septhusana, the warrior queen. When Septhusana was younger, she had three older brothers, each one wiser, more skilled, and more cunning than the last. Each of these brothers went into the grasses to prove their worth against the trials of the Grey Skinned God, but none proved worthy. The first stumbled back into the clearing, his hair bleached white, his golden skin sagging with scars and age, and he would do nothing but cry for his lost love, who had drowned in a summer flood. The second returned hale and healthy, and the tribe celebrated, but in time his eyes became thick black spirals, pools of never-ending hate and obliteration, and the tribe scattered in the wake of his wroth.

The third was the youngest, and he was the wisest of all, and he was Septhusana’s favorite. He did not go into the great grass, but instead used his cunning to create a reed-grass ladder, and with it scaled the tops of the scimitar flower. He chose to live there, high above the needs of his people but away from the madness that he feared in the grass, and his lover, a lion-headed man who could create fire in his palms, went with him. Their lives were happy and quiet, but many in the tribe cursed him for abandoning his destiny, if madness was indeed his fate. Septhusana did not blame him, but she did not follow his path either.

Septhusana was the last of her line. Her father was dead, and though his pyre burned on in the night fires, there was no one to lead the Ni Septh, no one save the youngest child, with eyes like a storm on a black sun day. She was small, and her name meant ‘least of us’ for she was born half the size of her brothers. She grew, though, and she was quick, with nimble fingers, and though her brothers were already wise, Septhusana was always learning.

She went into the grass willingly, and with her, the hopes of her people.

In the grass, Septhusana saw many things. A wild hart, black as night. A golden eye that spoke without a mouth. A weeping woman, her hands tangled in reeds. A pleasant, smiling man who spoke in riddles while his hands seeped with blood. A manticore with her brother’s face, the youngest, grinning with her head between his teeth. A grey wisp, coiled around the tusk of an oliphant, ancient and rheumy-eyed, with a hundred warriors armbands dangling from the ivory.

When she camped, at night the fire would sway and sing, and the animals she hunted turned to smoke in her hands when she tried to cook them on the spit. There was much in her that wanted to rage, to tear great stalks of grass from the ground and spread the fire until the charred remains gave her a path back to her people, but she did not. She held firm, and rationed her meager supplies, drinking and eating only when she must, sleeping almost never. The manticores roared, and the giant bird-snakes screamed from above, but she persisted, until her sword was more blood than steel and her body was sinew and stone.

Once, in the grass, a voice called her name. It was not a voice she knew, but it was familiar, and it made her ache in a way that lack of food and sleep and constant alertness had not yet achieved, but the ache was welcome, almost soothing. The voice was silvery among the green stalks, and it floated down with golden petals from the scimitar blossoms above. It told her to be patient, and follow no one but her own instincts, and she would find her path home. In the wake of the voice, she slept and felt safer than she had in weeks.

When at last the grass parted for her, and her eyes fell upon the proud form of her mother and beheld the cheering assemblage of her tribe, Septhusana was a woman grown, and she was mightier than all who came before her. She stepped into her leadership as was her right, and her tribe followed without question. The matriarch of the oliphant herd, old Ni Acutar, bowed to her, her massive tusks dipping into the ground below, adorned with the bangles of all of the ancestor warriors who had come before, all the way back to the first Ni Septh, a thousand years ago. Septhusana touched her head to the great broad forehead of the ancient matriarch, brushing against the ceremonial ochre, and then she mounted, climbing up a proffered massive limb. And Septhusana gathered her wayward people, guiding them North, to where their ancient migration paths led to the summer lands.

On the back of Ni Acutar, the great queen Septhusana earned the sacred armbands of her ancestors. She warred with the people of the Gorgon’s Mercy, the Ga Hazeth, who tore their enemies heads apart and fed their skulls to their stone idol god, and drove them back to the shores of the great grass sea, far from her vulnerable people. When the people of the Last Serpent came to terrorize the lands left behind from the Gorgon’s Mercy, she rounded upon them as well, until the Great Asp bowed his head to her blade. Ni Acutar’s tusks ran red with blood and the golden-skinned queen tattooed the names of her enemies until there was no room on her arms to spare.

She thought that was the last of her trials. But the Grey Skinned God was not done with her yet.

In the winter of the ninth year of her reign, when they journeyed to the Southern Swamps, the tribe was lean and hungry. It had been a poor year for their herds, and the oliphants did not calve as they usually did, which left young warriors without mounts to ride to their ceremonial first battles. Without warriors, they were defenseless. The people of the Sky Hawk were warring again in the East, raiding camps and villages up and down the winding Gorgon’s River, but the river refused to swell, and the reed grass didn’t blossom. And the clerics in Septhusana’s advisory camp were clamoring that the portents called for the queen to wed, and make fertile the land once more, or the grass would close in upon them and swallow their herds, and the Sky Hawk people would rule again.

There were many fine maidens among the Ni Septh; some skilled with blade, some skilled with bow, all as beautiful as the seven moons and deadly as night wraiths. Each demanded the chance to be courted by the queen, and preformed dances in the great temple before the idols of the god. But none of them made Septhusana’s eye fall upon her, and no matter how they whirled and leapt, the god’s statue did not move with approval. Only the god could permit a woman to be fertile with another woman, but the grey oliphant tusk, withered with age, did not rock upon its plinth. The tribe’s counselors despaired, and they wrung their hands in grief over the future of their people.

Septhusana had made her decision, however. The clerics cried out in alarm, and the warriors stiffened in their ranks as the queen made the announcement: she would return to the trial lands, and the great shifting sea of grass, to find her bride. She stepped into the wilds unarmed, and with little food, trusting only in herself, and learning much from day to day. For many nights and many long, blistering days, she roamed, and found no succor amongst the winding paths and many-headed scimitar stalks, but she had sought none anyway.

Eventually, she came upon a clearing, and there was a small pool, wreathed by nodding, welcoming edible reed grass. She fell to her knees to drink, and only when she looked into the water did she see a silver-haired girl, standing on the opposite bank, her feet bare, and her body adorned with tarnished bangles. She was clutching a bloody knife, and her legs were astride the kill of a fell deer, its organs displayed on the rock beside. Septhusana made the sign for friendship, but the girl only whirled, and ran into the grass, abandoning her meat.

Septhusana followed, swift as a summer rain, and without delay, she caught the girl by the wrist, disarming her. The girl did not cry out, but her silvery eyes were welled with pain and fear. She did not speak, but her lips moved and a white wisp emerged, light as smoke. The wisp moved between them, and it sunk into Septhusana’s golden warrior’s skin, making her shudder. A voice that she felt, rather than heard, in her head whispered: Don’t hurt me.

The warrior queen released her grip, but did not step back. “I am not going to harm you.” She answered, and placed her hand over her chest, to where the wisp had touched her skin.

I did not mean to trespass in your lands. The girl’s lips did not move again, and there was no second grey exhalation, but the voice remained in Septhusana’s head, regardless.

“So say all who cross my boundaries. But you are not like most.” The queen examined the silver-haired girl. “Where is it you come from?”

Far beyond the great grass sea. My people are all gone. I came here alone.

“And you live amongst the beasts?”

Not all are beasts. The silver eyes regarded hers, dark and unknowable as a forest pool. They were circling each other, as animals do, each well-matched in size and strength.

Septhusana had come to a realization. “I recognize your voice. You spoke to me, once before, in the time of my trials. You told me to trust myself, and I would find the path back to my people.” She lifted a hand from her chest and reached for the fingers of the wild girl, grazing their tips.

And did you? A warm hand curled around the palm of the warrior queen, and each stepped closer, as if drawn by quiet, inexorable force.

“I did. And now I return to the land of my trials, because I have determined to wed the owner of the voice who saved me.” Septhusana said this into the lips of the silver-haired girl, as their fingers entwined and the light died between their bodies as they blended. Golden mist threaded out from Septhusana’s chest and into the grey smoke wrapped around their joined hands, and each released a sigh.

I am not sure I am a thing to be wed, but I will follow your path, if that is what you desire. Her lips were the color of the ceremonial ochre used to dress the heads of the oldest oliphants. Her grey-shrouded body was slim, girlish, but her eyes were older than gods and time and Septhusana drew her in, caught in what man was never meant to know, but woman always accepts.

“I do not know if you are a woman or a creature from the Grey Skinned God, but I do not care. You are the one I choose, and your voice is the path I trust best.” Septhusana said, some time later, when they had finished their courtship beneath the falling blossoms of the scimitar stalks. Her lover said nothing, only smiled, and her silver eyes shone under the seven moons.

When the queen and her silver-haired mate returned from the trial lands, side by side, the tribe was at first concerned over the origins of their queen’s paramour. Many feared she was a spy, and the counselors warred amongst themselves. Septhusana gave it no mind, until the most severe of her counselors turned against the Silver Queen, as her lover was known, and tried to murder her. Septhusana rose in a blind rage and destroyed the conspiracy root and stem, and was forever after known as Septhuserrana, Lion of Ni Septh, or Lion of Us All.

She ruled fairly, and wisely, and her stern hand guided the tribe back to their former glory. The oliphants flourished once more, and the warriors put their handprint on the tusk of each new member of the herd, until there were as many hands as stars in the sky. The grass parted for them as it never had before, yielding unto the tribe secret oasis, hidden groves of fruit and cool water. And through it all their queen’s mate never spoke, but her voice was said to call out to certain warriors, letting them see through the grass, to find their way to new game, and, at other times, her voice was heard to warn certain beasts, who came away and did no harm after she spoke with them, in ancient and unknowable tongues.

The Grey Skinned God blessed the match, and they had many children. Their first was a fine and fierce daughter who was destined to rule the tribe, the second a brave and worthy son who would be her greatest counselor, and they were blessed with two wise and powerful twins, born a male and female, who shunned their restraints of sex to become the strongest of the shamans, genderless and all-knowing. Septhuserrana named her children Septhuhasa, Acutar Nir, Ya Nir and Ya Fhy, and their names, along with the name of their illustrious mother, were told over the fires, again and again. Once in each generation of their line, and forever after, a child was born with silver or gold hair, and the clerics knew that child was born unto greatness. They were warriors, kings, queens, shamans, and scholars.

Septhuserrana’s reign was long, bountiful, and if not entirely peaceable, then at least unhindered by chaos. When at last the great queen laid upon her pyre and closed her eyes for the final time, her silver lover stood alongside, and though she looked no older than the day she had joined the tribe, her eyes were oceans of sadness, in which the worst of time could not hold her grief. Her hand held her lover’s even as the fire crackled with blue flame, and a golden light could be seen wrapping around her flesh, protecting it from the searing heat.

The Silver One continued, ageless, and she was no longer a queen, but her presence helped guide each new ruler, be it king or queen, with a hand on her chest as her voice sang into the grass of the trial lands, finding those worthy of the Ni Septh people. The ones her voice found were often from the line of Septhuserrana, but just as often it would be some common child, a beggar boy or an orphan daughter, and they would rule just as Septhuserrana had, with grace and humility.

On the rise of every night, when the great moon towered in her journey across the black sky, followed by her six slender sister moons, and the scimitar stalks bowed with the winds from the South, the silver-haired girl would go into the great green sea, bangles dangling from her arms and ankles, hands open to the grass. She would stand, ageless and unbending as the stalks of grass. A grey mist would rise, and her heart would call, and the voice she would hear in return was as golden as the setting sun.

“I choose you, and your voice is my path. I am never far from it.” ____________________________________________________________________________________

[infolibrary]

22 Tricks That Can Beat Your Everyday Troubles Better Than a Magic Wand

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22 Tricks That Can Beat Your Everyday Troubles Better Than a Magic Wand

Life is a complicated yet really interesting thing. Sometimes we think that if we could just eliminate some difficult situations, it would be perfect. For example, a sudden headache, an urge to eat a lot of ice cream, or that sleepiness that comes at the end of a work day.

Bright Side was elated to find these tricks that can help us avoid at least 80% of these unsavory problems and forget about them forever.

To put a bracelet on by yourself, you just need an ordinary paper clip. Unfold the clip into an S-shape and hook one end through the clasp. Then hold the other end of the paper clip in your bracelet hand and fasten the clasp with your free hand.

To avoid sweat stains, put 2 pantyliners into the shirt prior to putting it on, and press each one onto the fabric for about 15 seconds.

Put a carrot on top of something unhealthy in your fridge (ice cream, hamburger, etc.). This trick will make you think twice before you binge on junk food.

Suffering from a bad headache? Put your feet and hands in warm water and place something cold at the base of your skull. Your headache will disappear in a few minutes. You can also eat 10-12 almonds: they work as good as 2 aspirin pills.

A headache in different areas tells us a lot about the brain’s needs. Pain in the crown of the head indicates that you have to eat or drink, if the forehead hurts, you need to sleep more, and you’re probably suffering from stress, if the nape of your neck hurts.

Sleeping naked can help to reduce acne and slow down the process of aging: your blood circulation will improve and your skin will get more air.

Lemons, oranges, and limes frighten off spiders. Just mix their juice with water and spray in doorways, on windowsills, and anywhere else you’ve seen these nasty creatures.

Put a brick in the toilet tank. This will help you use less water and save money.

If your camera has been stolen, go to StolenCameraFinder.com. This site lets people upload the photos they have from stolen cameras.

You can “teach” your brain to be happy. You just need to think about 3 things that make you feel thankful every day for 3 weeks in a row.

To remove a splinter, fill a wide-neck bottle 80% full with hot water. Press the bottle to the area with the splinter and hold it for a few minutes. This method will pull the splinter out and help you avoid an infection.

To protect your car from bird droppings, just leave a toy snake on your car’s roof. Birds are afraid of snakes, so they’ll stay away.

To protect yourself from insect bites, take vitamin B. This vitamin changes your blood’s odor, which frightens off mosquitoes, fleas, and other bugs.

You can heat a whole room using a handmade heater. Turn a terracotta pot upside down, set it above some candles, and put some bricks around it.

An ordinary air freshener will help you get rid of ants. For them, it smells like poison.

If you want your children to eat more healthy food, give the foods unusual names. For example, if your kid doesn’t like broccoli or carrots, they’ll probably like “broccolinator” and “carrotinja.”

Every anniversary, try to take a picture with the last year’s photo. This method will help you strengthen your family relationship. Just imagine what this picture will look like many years later.

While looking for flights, clear your browser’s history. It’ll help you save up to $50. Companies increase their prices by tracking what you’re looking for.

Being sarcastic can add up to 3 years to your life. Psychologists say it’s extremely useful for our brain and our mental health.

Some Japanese and Scottish cities use street lamps with blue light. This has been shown to help reduce the crime and suicide rate. Blue light makes the body produce soothing chemical substances. Place a lamp with blue light in your room to reduce stress.

While learning something by heart, chew gum. Then, before a test or exam, chew gum with the same flavor you chewed while you were studying. This will help your brain remember the information faster.

Do some stretching exercises for 5 minutes before going to bed. This will help to relax your muscles, and it’ll be easier to fall asleep since you’ll find a comfy position faster.

Which life hack do you think is the most useful?

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