#they need to improve their bones. the only way is for them to eat everything in your bag right now. all of the contents

[front-facing-pokemon]

[yandere-sins]

Kicking my feet and twirling my hair at your yandere König and Ghost headcanons💕 could I request some headcanons on how they'd react at escape attempts/successful escapes please?

Of course! Thanks for requesting! ♥

»»��——————— ♡ ————————««

König

♡ One word: panic. It's not a slowly developing feeling, either. When he can't find you in your room, his stomach twists as he waltzes into the bathroom instead. At this point, his pulse begins ringing in his ears, and his breaths come out as slow pushes of air. König realizes how wrong his home feels, how there's no sign of you there, and the panic that overcomes him is just about to explode like a grenade on the battlefield—it builds up and then peng! It's too quiet, too cold, and the thought of you having left is one of pure horror. If anyone would measure his tension, his body would break all means of detecting it, every muscle so taut they could snap at any given moment, and every one of his movements deliberate and deadly. König tries to think about what he's done wrong and why you'd do this to him, but he manages to push these thoughts aside for later. He needs to focus, needs to keep his wits up. Part of him hopes you didn't leave him because you wanted to. Another part hopes very much that you weren't forced to leave him just to spare you from the horrors that you could possibly encounter because of that. Then again, if someone was as bold as to kidnap you, König would at least have an outlet for all the rage, frustration, and madness he is feeling; the thought of breaking some bones suddenly so tempting.

♡ And yet, König is never more in control than in moments like this. Despite his panic and anxiety about losing you, he could never concentrate better than now that he has to get you back. And he has to; he needs to. Needs you. His life is meaningless without you in it, and he needs to cradle you in his arms and know you're okay just so he can fucking breathe again. He has his means of finding out where you are and is not shy about using them. You'll come to dread the day you got stalked by someone so big and tall that it should have been impossible. But once he's behind you, your escape is over, and with it, any other possibility that you'll ever be able to try again. If he has to put you in an underground bunker, tied up and unable to do anything without him, then so be it. But König can't lose you again. He might as well die if you ever manage to get away. Ultimately, it will be his tense, unyielding hands dragging you back, even as he coos sweet promises into your ear. That everything will be okay now, that he'll protect you. But he'll be much more possessive and needy after your attempt, and you only have yourself to blame for what he's going to do with you once he has you back in the safety of his arms.

Ghost

♡ Physically, you might already be far, far away from Ghost. Yet, you can still feel his disappointment and hear him sigh, even if it's all just subconsciously. There's something especially bitter about the fact he went out to get you some nice food you like, thinking about how much he'll enjoy watching you eat it on his way back and imaging the taste on your lips as he steals kisses from you, only to come back to this. Nothing. Emptiness and the remains of his heart getting shredded by explosive bangs of heartache. He thought things were improving between you two, but that escape was on him. He shouldn't have trusted you quite this much, though it really fucking hurts that you did it. He's been good to you, hasn't he? Loved you well, fucked you well, spent all his damn money to make you comfortable. You can run all you want, but you can't deny the few times you leaned in for a cuddle—even if it was subconsciously—or asked him for something, and he got it for you without thinking twice. You might think running is the right option, but are you even aware of what you're running away from? By all means, he was a perfect partner (aside from forcing you into this relationship, but it was for the greater good of you both being together). And yet, you'd betray him like this. Run away when things get rough. When they aren't up to your standards. Ghost must have spoiled you rotten, eh? Pity because he won't make the same mistakes twice.

♡ Ghost doesn't need anyone or anything to track you down. He might have a tracker on you, part of him always admiring your rebellious nature and knowing the day would come, but he knows you. He knows you too well. He studied your thoughts like no one else, perhaps knowing even better than you what you're thinking. And though he's gripping the steering wheel of the car he's using to catch up to you, to the point of either his fingers or the material they're wrapped around cracking, when he does find you, he's eerily calm. He knew the way you'd run, knew which bushes you'd hide behind, and now that he caught up, you really have no choice but to surrender. Ghost wouldn't let you win in a fight on his good days, much less days ruined by your idiocity. So you can choose to get in defeatedly or have him drag you into the car with no guarantee he won't hurt you. It's not like your tears leave him cold. The dead look on your face or how you jerk when he brushes your hair back, feeling like ice picks stabbed into his heart. He hates arguing with you. He hates being angry with you. It's on you this time, though. But at least, if you're cooperative, the only way he'll let you know how mad he is, is by holding your thigh in his hand on the drive, gripping it painfully rigid as he drives you two back, thinking about whether or not to break your leg as a lesson. No promises on if he will act on these thoughts, though—you really messed up this time and deserve the lesson, don't you? Better start appeasing him before you get home, and he gets to have you all to himself again, just like he always wanted.

[iliketangerines]

Mk11)) Hanzo hizashi and kuai liang x reader?? Like maybe is from the past or is a simple maid that works at the fire garden or Lin kuei temple. Nothing too complicated for this request- just simple stuff.

two hands

a/n: this was gonna be longer, but then i realized how out of hand it would've gotten

pairing: kuai liang x gn!reader x hanzo hasashi

warnings: attempted poisoning

you rush back and forth between the kitchens and the dining room, plating the food gracefully and quickly, and you only give yourself a quick moment to breathe before your back to serving the food

today your grandmaster Kuai Liang had invited over some of the higher ups of the Shirai Ryu to come and dine with the Lin Kuei to improve relations

what that meant for you is that there was a lot of people to serve and a lot more teacups to refill and heat and brew

thankfully, your direct superior had kept your serving relegated to the grandmaster’s room, saying that you were one of their best workers and that the grandmaster needed everything to go perfectly

not so thankfully, that meant you couldn’t afford a single mistake, not a drop spilled, not a single wrong order, not a single empty cup

you grab a bottle of baijiu and head over to the dining hall, composing yourself in the hall and wiping sweat off your forehead

walking in a soft smile, you carefully and pour the alcohol in practiced motions, and the Shirai Ryu grandmaster gives you a smile and a nod of appreciation

your grandmaster thanks you, waving you off, and you leave the bottle with them and go off to collect more food from the kitchens

you pick up their final dishes in your hand, and you traverse the halls quickly, not letting any of the food drop to the floor

opening the door with your foot, you walk in with their meals and set the final dishes down for them, arranging them in the middle so that all the plates can fit

you’re about to leave when you look at one of the dishes, the pork ribs, it looked not quite right, almost discolored, and you see the visiting grandmaster reach for it with his chopsticks

placing a gentle hand on his, you halt his reach for the food and tear off a strip of the pork with your fingers, looking at the color and then eating it

the Lin Kuei grandmaster does not say anything, simply watches, and you can taste that something’s wrong with the meal, perhaps undercooked

you pick up the dish, bowing your head in apology as you say that there’s something wrong with the meal and that you will return with a properly cooked plate

leaving, you ring in another plate of the pork ribs and head back with a fresh pot of tea and nearly bump into one of the servers, strangely enough

you wrinkle your nose and furrow your brows at the near accident but make your way back to the room with no more hiccups

placing down the tea pot, you lean down to pour them new cups of tea, except when you come back up, your head spins and pain pounds at your forehead

looking down at your fingers, they almost look purple and the room starts to distort and move around you, and you realize the pork had poison in it, or some kind of hallucinogen

leaning to the side to avoid smashing your face into the food, you slur out poison to your grandmaster, and then a splitting pain echoes through your body as you fall to the side, unable to control your own limbs

the world sounds like it’s been put through water, and your stomach has started to cramp, feeling it gurgle and bubble inside of you

you can’t move your hands, your arms, your legs, and your vision goes black as your eyelids close against your own free will

you hope that this isn’t too much of a hindrance on the meeting

it seems to be a blur of black and flashing white as your body heaves and gasps and fights to live, struggling against something that makes your body feel like a weight is crushing your bones to dust

the pain suffocates your lungs, burning with every breath you take and yet at the same time fills with water to keep you from breathing

you’re not sure how long it’s been since you fell down to the floor, but you wake up, body aching but alive

there’s something shoved down your nose, but you can make out the harsh lighting above you through blurry vision

you groan, trying to sit up, and your hands fumble uselessly, still feeling rather stiff

someone blurry appears in your vision, pushing you down by your chest gently and telling you to lay back down

mumbling out something about going back to work and the meeting with the Shirai Ryu, you struggle against them with pathetic attempts, body still too weak to really do anything

the voice is deep and grumbly as it tells you to lay back down, and you blink at your eyes, trying to make out who the hell was telling you to not go to work

your vision finally clears, and the struggle dies in your throat as you look face to face with your grandmaster to your left and then the Shirai Ryu grandmaster at the foot of the bed

his hand is on your chest still, pushing you down easily now as you stare at them in shock

he thanks you for saving the both of them and that they have apprehended the suspect, and you croak out that it is your pleasure to save them both

your grandmaster frowns at that, saying that you shouldn’t have to protect them, that you are employed under the Lin Kuei as a server and not as a warrior, he should be the one protecting you

the other grandmaster nods, agreeing with the sentiment, and he says that the food tester should’ve caught the poisoning but you had instead, you have done more than needed

he bows to you, and you nearly shoot up out of the bed to tell him not to, that you’re just a servant to help keep things running smoothly at the Lin Kuei

your grandmaster shakes his head and tells you to sit back down, muttering under his breath about how stubborn you were

he pats your chest and tells you to rest for a few weeks, it had been a few days since you had been poisoned, and you would need to rest to regain full strength

nodding dumbly, the two of them bow to you and leave, and you’re left alone with your thoughts

both of the grandmasters bowing to you, it made your head reel with shock and a little bit of pride in yourself

two powerful men who thanked you for saving your life, your grandmasters, oh this was exhilarating

you never thought they would acknowledge you more than a formality, and your heart thump in your chest at the whole ordeal of them bowing to you

you had always been the one to show grace, to show respect, and yet people high above your station had bowed to you

the heart monitor by your bedside starts to beep, and you realize your heart is going a little too fast as a nurse rushes in to make sure everything was okay

you just stare up with a dopey little smile and mouth whisper that the two grandmasters had bowed to you, and the nurse gives you a concerned look as she checks all your vitals

soon enough, she leaves, and you’re left with your thoughts

two grandmasters, huh

[heartfullofleeches]

Scavenger

Reluctant monster darling my love..... (concept/potential series - warnings for mentions of suicide, death and cannibalism)

The monster who never wanted to be....

You thought you'd die the night they grew in. Serrated, needle-point fangs sprouting behind the rows of canines and incisors all your years. You knew this day was coming - someday, but decades of preparation couldn't cushion you from what was to come. The jaw-splitting of each individual tooth tearing through your gums and the floor of your mouth, slowly losing the ability to eat most foods day by day. The cravings.

Your own blood worked for a while. About a month at best. The more you tore open the healing wounds on your arms and legs the deeper and thicker your blood began. Like copper molasses. After that, you didn't know what to do. You couldn't take another humans life - even if you were never one to begin with. You broke into hospitals, blood banks, freshly graves. Your stomach howled at the scraps and rotting flesh you forced into it. With those teeth; those claws, it was clear whatever you weren't designed to live on blood packs and dead meat. You need it fresh. Raw. Live prey. It's everywhere.

No. No!... People aren't food. They're your friends... People you see everyday. They deserve the right to live like you.... Just like you...

And then it happens.

Walking home alone, over a rarely crossed bridge - the smell hits you first. The undeniable stench of blood - the freshest you've ever smelled. Hunger stabs you so deep you check your stomach for wounds. You look everywhere. What's left of your human mind tells you to call the police and run. Someone's hurt. You'll hurt them more. The internal battle is fierce - come to find you had already lost from the beginning.

They were already dead. Dragged onto shore by the lake's current. You had to pray they didn't suffer. You had to pray they'd forgive you for what you'd do. You were starving. It was the only way. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You repeat - but there's no one to listen. No one to witness as you lick their bones clean and bury them in hollow grave. You found no identification on them. Only a letter. You lost the meal that would've keep you full for days as you read it.

You visit that bridge everyday. The sight of the disturbed soil makes you nauseous at first, then you're numb. They were gone, you're still here. That doesn't make it right, but.... but.. It happens again.

There at the shore, a body. Another letter, this time tucked into a wallet. You... Knew this person. Not well, an old classmate or coworker you never spoke to, but you knew. What happened to them since you last saw them. You.. do what you have to - conscious enough to take their meat back home, but after storing it away, you look them up online. Everything seemed fine on the surface - til their water logged phone powers back on.

An alternate account, pleading for help on days they posted pictures with sunny smiles to their main. Questioning their place in life, begging for something anything to make it all worth it. Their pleas went unheard. Every single one, until you found them. How long had they been in pain?

You find accounts on forums for people like them. People with nothing left to live for and waiting for that final push. Easy targets for something like you. You'd never go hungry again - so you reach out... to help.

You know first hand what it's like to suffer. You don't want to see anyone else in pain. You saw a family member of that old acquaintance one day. The grief in their eyes crushed you more than the pains of hunger ever could. You'll atone for your sin of living on by helping whoever you can. When you can't - you'll go out to search for your next meal.

Eventually you began to notice the signs of people down on their luck in your day to day. You tried not to look at others to avoid your hunger flaring, but it's so hard to ignore. You befriend these people. Ease your way into improving their outlook on life, and getting the help you can't provide. People gravitate towards you for your kindness. You see it an expression of your guilt. You try to slip out of their lives just as you came, but some of them just can't let you go. You're an angel. A saint. They want to give back to you what you've given them. They see that same sadness they once had in your eyes and want to do whatever it take all alway. They reach and reach, but you only drift away. They search for all they can find out about you - and one of them finds it.

A journal, hidden beneath your bed. Mere snippets of the live long torment you've endured. They didn't want to invade your privacy, but you left them no choice - and now they see why. Reading your crimes, the reasons you held out your hand to them - it brings them to tears. They truly had met an angel. An angel that needed their help as much as they once needed theirs.

-

A new neighbor moves. Amongst all the pleasant greetings from everyone else in your complex, they visit you of all people first. They bring a big slice out of a casserole they had just made. You politely decline, but they insist. You take a bite. It's good. Really good. Good enough for you to swallow. You can eat this. All the spices and seasonings, you can taste them. Your stomach feels so warm and full from the first bite alone. You're completely stuffed by the time you finish. Licking the plate, you freeze! You..... can eat this.... Why can you eat this? What's going on?

Then you notice the bandages around their arm.

"Hey, Y/n... Did you know the taste of beef is really overpowering? I made beef and pork meatballs the other day, but all I could taste was cow.... Is it the same for you?"

[writerofjourneys]

Hi! If requests are still open, could I request Akira/Joker with a female reader who's a phenomenal cook?

Making him lunches, snacks, and occasionally breakfast and dinner too. Boy's bout to be spoiled.

Cooking for Joker

Fandom(s): Persona 5

P5 Protagonist/Joker x Fem Reader

Headcanon

Content: Fluff, romance, food, established relationship, marriage, married life, aged up characters, cooking, domesticity, soft Joker, taking care of each other, affection, declarations of love.

Warnings: None.

Main List | 𝐉𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐫

As the leader of the Phantom Thieves, Akira is busy preparing for heists and fighting Shadows. But not just for being a leader of a mysterious infamous group, he’s busy everywhere. Ranking up confidants, fusing Personas, stocking supplies, studying, Akira’s been dealt with a lot of responsibilities since he got to Tokyo.

Eating at Big Bang Burger all the time and doing those challenges isn’t healthy on a regular basis. He does eat out with the team and his confidants sometimes. And Sojiro does cook breakfast for him on occasion.

But he will have a tendency to overwork himself and forget his own needs. He’s also taking care of Morgana, another mouth to feed besides himself. During lunchtime, Akira would either share his meal or just give it to Morgana.

Though since Morgana is known to keep track of his bedtime, the cat will make reminders for him to eat. The talking feline does pride himself for being responsible.

But you making food for him will send his heart soaring. He’s a lanky male, not too thin, but not so muscular, so he could still go for some more meat in his bones. It’s not only a sweet gesture but also an efficient way to help feed your hardworking boyfriend. He may even blush a little from the adoring sentiment.

Making bentos for him? Touching. Making matching bentos for the two of you? Adorable. Especially if you’re putting great details in the lunches, like making cute faces in the shape of animals and such. Akira will tease that it looks far better to admire, but he’ll happily finish the bento until there’s nothing left. He’s never been a picky eater so he’s open to try anything you make.

Learning about your cooking skills definitely impresses him. Akira likes to improve his own culinary abilities. Working with Sojiro behind the counter helped him discover that passion. So being a phenomenal cook, he’d gladly ask for tips and advice once in a while.

Akira finds himself astounded that someone like him, someone carrying a false criminal record serving probation in an unfamiliar place alone, could have such a loving girlfriend caring for him. He always makes sure to not let you forget his own affections and how much everything you do means.

It becomes a routine for you two to meet up at lunchtime and eat together. Sitting side by side closely, across with legs touching. There’s no doubt that Akira will happily reciprocate in taking turns making meals for you both. A good way to practice his cooking skills despite his busy schedule. If you were to ever be unable to make it, Akira will feel your absence greatly.

Breakfast? Probably best to have something easier to eat as you walk to Shujin side by side on weekdays. It is true as they say that to a person’s heart in general is through the stomach. If you stopped by carrying food filled containers to eat at LeBlanc, Sojiro has no problem with it. He does agree that Akira should be mindful of eating. Depending on if said containers are washable, he’ll let you keep them at the café until you take them back.

Feeding each other is a thing in private. When no one is there, Akira will offer a piece of food to your lips, expression cheeky. It’s something you’d only do behind closed doors.

And in reverse, he’s happy to welcome a spoonful from you. Wiping a stain on his mouth gets him a bit bashful. A napkin? Cute. Your own tongue? Now his face got even redder.

But beware, the leader of the Phantom Thieves has tricks up his sleeve. He’ll reciprocate the action in a sneaky way to tease back.

Dates spent cooking and eating together is very domestic and wholesome. Trying new recipes, sharing some, it’s a lovely way to spend time with one another. Though you’d probably spend that in your home rather than his. Because as nice as the coffee and curry is at the café, you’d have more privacy and space to work on. Akira always has a look in his eyes when he gazes upon you, so much so it makes you bashful every time you see it.

Food turns into a new love language between you.

And once you become adults? Naturally, living together is expected after the deepening of your relationship growing from being high school sweethearts. Cooking together becomes a real staple in your household. Working different jobs may not always let you cook together, but having the thoughtfulness of making food for the other is still as meaningful.

[mygwenchan]

Stray thoughts while watching Love Syndrome III - EP6

Got my Ginger Ale and Taokaenoi seaweed snacks ready. Alright guys, let's do this~

And we're off to a good start with the reappearance of the magical BL towel that can cure anything, be it the common cold, depression or broken bones! Get your BL towel now! Call us within the next 10 minutes and save 50%! And surprise! You'll get not one, not two, but three magical BL towels for the small price of 9.99 (+ 99.99 shipping service). Call us now at willdaygetnakedagain-666!

Day being nice feels weird though. Is it a trap or has he decided to be a decent person for once?

Oh no, the little one is crying :( Itt needs a hug, poor thing

That scene with them holding hands and looking deep into each others eyes and the romantic music... I'm sorry, but it really cracked me up 😂

Oh! My two best boys Night and Nik are back, nice~

More cake in this episode. But won't Itt feel sick if he eats a tiny bit of porridge and a whole damn cake? Also why are there so many people in that bedroom all of a sudden?

"Are you eating or crying. Make up your mind!" Apparently Day has never heard of multitasking

Awkward cake feeding scene. There's some kink going on there, me thinks (god I hope Frank likes orange cake, cause if not... poor dude)

Well, at least Day knows he's been terrible towards Itt. Self-reflection is the first step on the way to self-improvement ☝

Ball is such a good boy, so nice. And Day is jealous as fuck lol

Itt in the garden: Darling, you really want to water your garden with that small ass watering-can? Yes? Ok... will only take you like 2 hours, but you do you

Damn, Day really did everything for Itt. No wonder Itt ended up being so spoiled...

Sinister music, weird phone call were no one is answering... My spider senses are tingling!

Day, don't talk about dying... and that sinister music again. Yeah something is definitely afoot!

Uh, is that the long-haired dude from that bar in ep1? I can't remember faces for shit... but yeah, I think that's him. I sense more trouble!!

...and the guy just answered my question lol Yeah it's him, and he has a name! Korn. And Day is jealous again. That man's tits are never calm

Ooooohhh! Day called Itt his boyfriend! That is what jealousy can do to a man 😂

Itt, I'm sorry, but you really suck at cooking. I've never seen someone peel a carrot like that

Romantic onion chopping flashback~

Oh god that scream when Day almost fainted totally gave me a fright XD

And suddenly we've got a battle between alpha dom Day and alpha dom Korn while... one of them get's a makeover? That's random, but ok 🤨

Day, calm down. Don't cut off ears in your own shop, do it somewhere else! Think about the mess your employees would have to mop up. Think about the poor working class people!

Yeah sorry, but I liked Korn better with long hair. It fit his cunt aesthetics. Also Korn, I think pissing off an ex-mafia guy who has killed people isn't such a good idea, just saying

And suddenly it's cute nose rubbing time~ Well, that's a sweet ending for this episode 🌈💕

[bixbythemartian]

Hey! I hope it’s okay to ask you some questions about dentures? If not, feel free to ignore this

So, I have EDS, and my teeth are kinda shit. I brush regularly and all that but I still get new cavities all the time, and it’s expensive paying for them to be fixed. How did you decide that it was the right time for you to get dentures? I’m pretty sure I’m going to need them eventually, and I’m not sure if it’s the kind of thing I should put off as long as I can, or if I can go ahead and do it at a young age (23 rn) and get it over with.

What was the cost like for you?

You mentioned recovery being difficult—how long did it take?

Do you still have to worry about any dental health issues or is it pretty much fine to eat sugary foods and such now?

Unfortunately, my current dentist is committed to “saving” as many of my teeth as possible, so I haven’t been able to discuss this with her.

Thanks much <3

Hey this answer is long af. (Sorry it took me a few days it's been a very full week.)

The decision to get dentures, for me, was a matter of my ability to consume food. I had some medical neglect as a kid and a genetic predisposition towards bad teeth, and it fucking accordioned into a nightmare mouth situation. I spent years in pain from eating most things. Many of the roots in my mouth were exposed, I had constant infections and was sick all the time. I'm incredibly lucky that I didn't die, so many people die from untreated dental infections.

Ideally, it's better to wait as long as you can to get them, because pulling that many teeth does fuck up all the bone around it, and the jaw bone will compact down over time, impacting your mouth shape and bite strength, or something like that? It's better to wait, if possible. I was just about to turn 29, I think, when I got mine? I'm not sure- and that's young for full dentures, but it was (at that point) extremely necessary. If you can stay on top of filling cavities and such, it's really a lot better to hold onto your own teeth for as long as possible.

I'm really sorry, but I don't remember the cost- I know we had to get care credit and a loan from my (now former) in-laws, and I went to a dentist who specialized in low-income no-insurance situations and basically did the operation for me at cost, because they were worried if they didn't do it I was going to die, and I only went under local anesthetic instead of being knocked out. So it was relatively cheap? But this was around ten years ago and I honestly don't remember the numbers.

Full recovery took about six months, that's how long it takes your jaw to heal from being brutalized. I would say I could eat most things okay about 6 weeks in- you have to be careful and cut everything into little bites when your mouth is healing at first. And that means everything. Sandwiches, whatever. You're not supposed to bite into things until the incisions in your mouth heal. Stick to his as rigorously as you can. You also have to relearn how to bite into things. Also, you're going to bite your tongue a lot- your teeth have changed position and shape. It's kind of a lot, but in comparison to 'I can eat three soft things and my mouth hurts all the time forever', t'was a vast improvement.

I don't worry about my dental health issues, if any, because I don't have dental health insurance or teeth- I don't know if I need any per se, I just don't do it. The only stuff I can't eat because of my dentures is stuff that's real tacky- taffy, gum, chewy caramels. (I actually tend to suck on taffy or caramels rather than try to chew them.) I have not found a gum that works with dentures yet, even the ones that claim they will work. But they don't pull the dentures apart or anything, they're just a pain in the ass to chew and stick to the denture in difficult and awkward ways. (Also, I find puffy cheetohs obnoxious to eat with my dentures- they adhere in awkward ways.)

Hope these answers were helpful! Thank you for your patience in me getting back to you.

[thisismycorneroftheinternet]

Fucking how tf am I supposed to not feel like shit and always anxious if shit never fucking improves?? I am not that fucking self-deluded to fool myself into thinking this is still a good situation somehow. Yeah sure, there's always deeper in the hole, thank fuck I am not literally digging through the trash for bones to get some protein in my meals like the poor in this city that got featured in that grotesque, horror circus-style magazine story I remember reading about in the pandemic, but that sort of thought does not make life any easier when you're still having to rely on free food that takes you a total of 2h to get, per meal, and now donations from your sister's fiancee to get by the month.

And then yet I have to deal with my sister fucking throwing a hissy fit at any time I fucking complain about (1) thing, but also debase any fucking medical help I'm trying to get because apparently according to her, I'm not that bad off and should suck it the fuck up and "learn to manage (my) own stress better" while being completely unhelpful on that front besides telling me to meditate, which doesn't fucking solve shit??? And then she also gets mad when I have to whine and cry to our mother to not let her try to cut off our little assistance, because apparently that's begging and I should not be begging I should be demanding, when our parents are literally sinking into debt more and more and our mother can barely afford to pay the taxes for her freelance job??

Like, I'm going to fucking walk in on Tuesday to the health clinic, and update them on my deteriorating mental health, and it's going to fucking be the same fucking old adage of "you should exercise for your anxiety, you should learn to organize yourself better, you should manage your ADHD without meds, you should stress less" which is so fucking unhelpful as well. Platitudes like that I already get from the fucking web as well, Instagram loves to fucking show me WellnessTM posts on the greatness of exercise and being thankful for life, why am I fucking taking hours of my day every other month to hear that as well from people I was trying to seek some sort of further help??

And like, in general, I feel like I am going circles, and nothing ever gets better, only worser and worser, and like, I am really grateful for my sister's fiancee's kindness, but like, I've been the entire month trying to not get to this. Yes, because it's humiliating, yes I'm fucking prideful and I feel like I am an able enough adult that I should not need to depend on others' kindness to eat! But also because like, I am able enough to work, I have all sorts of skills, and I am more than fucking willing to do whatever it takes, but no one wants me regardless. And worse, it's pointless to seek a full-on job because university fucking gets in the way of everything, because I fucking switched to day classes because of my family's insistence, because I entered university in night classes originally and that offended them enough that they bothered me about it, and now I'm paying the price.

And then I talk to my one university friend, and she's like "yeah I'm struggling as well" and I try to commiserate with her, because that's what one does, it's like, I realize I'm struggling way more with way less than her. Yes, sure, she had to drop university twice, but also, she's doing 40h a week of classes, and undergrad research, and was sleeping like, 4h a night. No fucking wonder she snapped twice. Meanwhile I can barely get above 14h of credit/hours without flunking something, and even when I pass it's barely scraping by. How come she's being more seriously contemplated for ADHD and anxiety and all than I am?? I guess it's because I have to rely on the free clinic, while she's on her military daddy's insurance plan. God, I don't want to resent her, but I came so close to snapping at her in the group chat when she told me that she's struggling because she can barely sleep, and sure she's seeing stuff like I used to when I slept little, but she "just ignores it and it's fine!" while I used to be terrified I'd get killed by the fucking Balloon Boy from FNAF and shadow demons when I underslept.

God, fucking hell, I swear to fucking god, I am trying so fucking hard to act normal and be normal and not be a fucking mess but even that's hard and worsening my anxiety. And yet I don't get any help that sticks.

[burnwater13]

Grogu sees you. Yup. You there in the t-shirt, drinking caf and wondering if you should buy that thing from your favorite vid show. He sees you. And yes, buy that thing. Not because you only live once, but because things that make us happy can be few and far between. He knows. He’s been there. 

It had taken a lot of years and very hard work to get to a place where he could just lean back and relax. Maybe catch a frog. Maybe ask his dad to play the guitar for him from that chair he used on the porch of their cabin on Nevarro. He some times didn’t think he’d ever make it there. The path had been that hard. 

But here he was. Loving life and having time for fun. So rather than squander that time by cleaning his room, he liked to watch Diggle and Daggle, the Fish that fish. The Mandalorian knew that he loved those vids. 

When a new one came out, Din Djarin would down load it for him and sometimes even watch it with him. It was the perfect educational and entertaining form of story telling and he was happily surprised when the people, whoever they were, who produced Diggle and Daggle came out with a set of interactive mechs based on the two famous fish. 

Grogu knew as soon as he saw them that he needed them. Wanted them. Would really, really like to have them please, for his next ten present days, he didn’t care, please. Oh, ummm. Yes, he asked his dad if he could see his way to obtaining a set for him because he thought that the educational value of the mechs was significant and would help him improve his fishing techniques. 

Din Djarin had said ‘I’ll think about it.’ Grogu didn’t know what that meant. Really. Sometimes when the Mandalorian said things like that it meant as soon as Din could find the thing he’d get it. Like the time his coverall zipper broke and it needed a new zipper or Grogu couldn’t get out of the stupid thing, Din had worked quickly and efficiently to get that sorted out. But then there was the time that Grogu said he’d like to go Nevarro City and ask the Marshal to please make him some bone broth like he had when he’d worked for Kuiil. That never happened. Din Djarin thought about for about a split second and said he couldn’t waste the Marshal’s time like that. 

But Grogu had become obsessed with figuring out a way to get the cool, limited effects mechs. Limited effects meant that while they were mechs, just like R5, they couldn’t do everything R5 could do. That didn’t matter to Grogu. The less a mech could do the more likely Din Djarin was to let him have one.  He’d barely gotten used to having R5 rolling around the property. But limited or not, Grogu thought it would be great to be able to talk to the famous Fish that fish. 

Yup, that was one of the things they could do. You could ask them questions about fish and fishing and they would answer. They could tell you the best bait and lure. Where and when to find them. And, importantly, what other critters liked to eat them. You didn’t want to find yourself in an argument with a Opee Sea Killer. No, you did not. That was super useful information if you were going to head to Naboo in the near future. 

But his dad didn’t really seem swayed by that argument. 

“Grogu, we’re not going to Naboo, so you don’t have to fight a an eopie sea killer or whatever you called it. Don’t you want to help the foundlings?”

Uff. Of course Grogu wanted to help the foundlings. He also wanted to argue that getting that set of mechs would be helping a foundling out. Him. But he was the Mandalorian’s official son now and wasn’t considered a foundling any more. Womp rats!

Seriously though, Grogu did want to help foundlings everywhere. He hated that people did things that ended up leaving children without a family of their own. But he knew from his experience as a foundling that having Diggle and Daggle in his life had made that lack of family more tolerable. They felt like family to him and he had always been glad of that. 

He wondered if it would make a difference to his dad, if he offered to share the mechs with the kids at the foundlings’ home on Nevarro?  That way they could all benefit from enhanced knowledge of fish and fishing techniques. Not like Nevarro had a lot places nearby to fish other than Grogu’s pond, but he’d be happy to share the pond with the other kids.

When he proposed that logic to his dad, Din Djarin had laughed. 

“Buddy, that’s a great idea. You can invite the kids over and show them how to fish. You’ve been watching Diggle and Daggle for forever. You must know more than them by now.”

Wow. Way to spoil a perfectly good way to get some new mechs Dad. 

The play date they had set up after that had been a lot of fun and Grogu only had to use the Force to help one person out of the pond. After his dad dried off and brought the other kids back to the foundlings’ home, they sat on the porch and just watched the stars begin to twinkle in the early evening sky.  It was a nice way to end a pretty eventful day. 

“Grogu, I understand. You’d like those mechs because you love spending time with Diggle and Daggle. Today you had fun spending time with a bunch of kids. Isn’t that better?”

Grogu sighed. Yes. It was better. They had played games. Dug for worms. Used rations as bait. And scared either other pretending to catch the mythical eopie sea killer that Din Djarin had invented. Right up to the point where his dad fell into he pond because he tripped over him while they were re-enacting a scene from Diggle and Daggle, it had all been going great.

Grogu chirped and coo’d a response to his dad.

“Same time next week? Sure we can do that buddy. But next time you play Diggle and I play Daggle. I think I still have water in my ear.”

Grogu giggled at that and realized he already had the best mech around, from a certain perspective.

[razieltwelve]

Hey, what's up raz. How many calories would you say a huntsman or huntress needs? Apart from Diana, someone like yang or Claire who's body combat oriented. Or weiss, maybe jahne.

Interesting question.

If we take the FDA at its word, then the average male would need around 2000 calories per day.

I'll start off by saying that hunters are able to derive more nutrition than civilians from the same quantity of food. This is because their digestive systems operate far more efficiently since more Aura basically makes everything better.

A hunter of the same size will also weigh more than a civilian because long-term Aura exposure and usage alters the body on a fundamental level. Their muscles are stronger, their bones are denser, and so on.

That said, we'll rule out people with bizarre physiologies (e.g., Diana can literally convert food into matter or energy because Ragnarok is bullshit).

Let's start by setting a few conditions. We'll assume the characters are attending Beacon. Hunters will eat more during puberty because of the dramatic physical changes (and often Semblance and Aura changes) they experience.

While at Beacon, Weiss would probably be eating at least 6000 calories a day, more during missions. This is roughly three times as much as a normal person. This might seem like a lot, but remember, that Weiss needs to eat enough to support a training schedule that is basically the legalised version of hell, as well as have excess to help her body and Aura grow. Eating can help Aura reserves recover, and Weiss has the smallest reserves on her team by far (albeit with some of the best control in the world).

How about Yang?

Yang might eat as much as 10,000 calories a day while at Beacon. This seems like a huge quantity of food (roughly five times the average), but Yang needs the calories even more than Weiss. Since Yang is a physically focused fighter with a gigantic Aura capacity, she needs even more food. Her rapidly improving physique consumes an enormous number of calories since although she isn't getting super tall or anything, her muscles are constantly breaking down, repairing, and getting denser, stronger, and so on. Likewise, her Aura reserves are colossal. Since she's trying to make them as large as possible, the idea is to repeatedly run them to almost zero and then fill them up again. Cycling in this manner is one of the more reliable ways to increase capacity, and eating helps her max her reserves out as quickly as possible.

Hunters are like starships. Food is both fuel to help the reactor produce energy (i.e., physical energy and Aura) and raw materials that can be used to repair and expand the ship (i.e., improve the body and its physical abilities).

Note that weaker hunters do not consume as much food as stronger hunters. A low-end hunter might only eat a little bit more than a civilian whereas hunters like Yang eat way more.

When people make jokes about Diana being a bottomless pit, keep in mind that these are hunters making jokes. Even as a kid, Diana was eating as much or more than a teenage Yang.

Note that one of the ways around this is the consumption of extremely nutrient and calorie rich food. There is a whole industry built around this. It's kind of like the industry that's developed around weight lifting or exercise, only it feeds superheroes.

As an aside, the government offers subsidies to help feed young hunters (i.e. students) who may struggle to pay for enough food. Since eating enough is key to proper hunter development, it's a small price to pay for more weapons in the war against the Grimm.

[lec743]

The Ocean’s Kindness (FNAF Fanfic)

Beginning + Ch. 8 + you are here + Ch. 10

Summary: You contemplate the likeliness of ever getting back home and things take a turn for the worst.  

Note: Hey, look at that. Not my last chapter nice. Also, there’s blood and violence in this chapter.

Word Count: 7340 words

I’m inspired to write this story by @bamsara , @paper-lilypie, and Chex_Nyx on AO3.  

Don’t like reading on Tumblr, neither do others. Here!

AO3

Fanfiction

*******************************************************************************************

CHAPTER 9: HEART BROKEN

           It took three weeks to get to the sight that Captain Sun said the sea glass will be. In that time, you had officially mastered being a crew member on the Crusty Waters.

          You knew your knots by heart. You knew the basics of sword fighting and you were a good aim with your little gunpowder pistol. You were quick at doing your job and you don’t get knocked over by the ship’s rocking like you used to.

          With your personal projects, you’ve gotten a lot better at pick pocketing with Bonnie as your competitor and you feel like you’ve improved in your personal gymnastics training. Even Happy Frog and Moon have been asking you to train them in gymnastics.

           You wish your family could see you know. They’d be like, what happened to our little girl? You've gotten so much sun; you're covered in sun kisses. What happened to your hair? You looked amazing with long hair. You look so thin; have you not been eating enough? We missed you so much.

          You miss them so much. As much as you’ve grown to love this world, you still want to go home. Heck, you wish you could show your new friends on the Crusty Waters what Earth is like. Show them sandy beaches, parks with trees, concrete buildings, and all the other things that they don’t have here.

          You also wish you could introduce your parents to your friends. You’d love to see the stupefied looks on their faces meeting actual furries and dryads. Or well “stickmen” as they are preferred to be called. You especially want you parents to meet Sun and Moon. You’ve gotten quite fond of them, despite everything. However, you’re not any closer to getting back home than you were when your journey started.

          You’ve gathered as much information about Zulon as you could but they’re just stories. All the things that they’ve done aren’t even consistent like facts. Whoever Zulon truly is, or was, was long lost and it seems to you that whatever Zulon is, or was, can only be truly known by those that they bring over from different dimensions. You can’t help but think that maybe you’ve lost your chance to connect with them or maybe you need to find a way to connect with this god somehow.

          But how?

          There was a rough slap to your back as the sudden shift made you hit the railing with your chest.

          “What are you thinking so hard about,” Roxy asked as she leaned against the railing of the ship.

          You rubbed the soreness out of your chest.

          “I miss home.”

          Roxy’s ears flattened to her head, “I see… Anything you miss in particular?”

          You run your hand through your hair and fiddle with the sleeve of your oversized star-spangled jacket, “I miss my parents, the food, my succulent garden, and I really, really miss dirt. I never thought I could miss dirt so much.”

          “We have plenty of dirt here.” Roxy said with a chuckle.

          “No, no, no, no. That’s dust. I’m talking about actual dirt. Soil so brown it turns your hands black. It smells of dead leaves and cut grass and fresh rain. It makes my bones ache just thinking about being on solid ground again.”

          “Wow,” Roxy said, “That does sound kind of nice,” she turned away from you to look out at the open ocean as it sparkled with the sunlight, “I wish I could have seen Zulon when it was full of trees and mountains.”

          The two of you stand silently as you look over the ocean’s surface. The two of you saw a few fish sail through the sky. Probably trying to avoid a predator.

          “So, any particular reason why you came over here?”

          “Hmm? Oh, yah!” Roxy said as she snapped her finger-like paws, “Your boyfriend is looking for you.”

          You snort out a laugh, “What boyfriend?”

          “More like which,” Roxy teased.

          “Oh, so I have more than one now, do I?”

          “Three as far as I’ve been counting,” Roxy said as she toyed with her claws.

          You cross your arms over your chest as you lean your shoulder against the railing, “Uh-hu. And These mysterious boyfriends are?”

          “Monty and our two captains,” she said with a toothy smile, not looking at you as she continued to examine her claws.

          You sputter, “Excuse you. I wouldn’t say that out loud around Chip. I’m pretty sure the bear has a crush on Monty. Second of all, Sun and Moon are happily together as far as I’m aware.”

          Roxy side-eyes you, “How common is polygamy in your world? Do you know what it is?”

          “Yes, I know what it is and the commonality of it depends. Earth’s a big world with a lot of people on it.”

          Roxy pushed herself off the railing with a short, high-pitched, “Huh,” then said, “Anyways, it’s Captain Sun that’s looking for you. Last I saw him he was below deck in the supply room. I think he needs your help with something.”

          You wondered what the stickman could need help with, and you also, briefly, wondered why Roxy sounded so coy.

          You jog away from Roxy with a wave and said, “Okay. See you around!”

          You grab a lantern near the entrance of the staircase leading below deck, but you don’t light it until you’re at the supply room. A side effect of sleepless nights and wanting to walk around while bored, is that you’ve managed to memorize the entire enteral layout of the ship.

          Just as you lit the little lantern you hear crates falling and a string of curses.

          You run in to find Sun sprawled on the floor with a tipped over lantern by his head, and crates on him.

           “What are you doing here,” Sun shouted in surprise at the sight of you.

          “Don’t worry! I’m here,” you shout in a panic as you first pick up the turned over lantern and smooshed any stray embers that escaped it with your bare feet. Then you got to work on getting the crates off Sun.

          “Sun, are you okay? Are you hurting anywhere? Do you need Mr. Hippo to look at you?”

          You grunt and strain as you move the heavy crates off the solar themed stickman.

          “Don’t worry. Most of the crates landed on my chest and stomach. I’m mostly wood there,” Sun said cheerily, “But seriously why are you down here?”

          “Roxy said you asked for me,” you explained, a little confused by the question.

          Sun mumbled something under his breath, but you were too focused on getting him out from under the pile of crates to pay attention.

          You get the final box off him and you grab his out reaching hand, pulling him to his feet.

          “Easy,” you say, worried that he’ll faint or something. It’s just occurred to you that you wouldn’t know how to care for your crewmates if they got hurt. You’ll need to fix that.

          “I promise, I’m fine,” Sun said as he held and patted your hand, “I wouldn’t have been down here for long even if Roxy hadn’t sent you.”

          “That doesn’t exactly stop me from worrying, Sun,” you didn’t catch his smile as it disappeared when you asked, “What happened? What are you looking for?”

          Sun let’s go of you and clears his throat, “Oh, uh. I was uh, looking for some spare parts for theeeeeee… Rebreather!”

          “I thought it was fixed?”

          “It is! It is! It’s just, uh, I want to have extra parts close at hand for incase. We don’t want our diver to drown while they’re down there,” Sun stated.

          “No, we don’t. Did you find the extra parts?”

          “Not yet. They’re somewhere in one of these top crates.” Sun gestured to their surroundings. “I tried climbing them, but as you can see, it didn’t go well.”

          “Yah, this place feels like an OSHA violation waiting to happen,” you state looking through the shadows at the strapped down but precariously stacked crates.

          You go over to a stack and start climbing up it.

          “OSHA? What’s OSHA?” Sun asked as he started going through the crates that fell on him.

          You explain what the organization is about to the best of your abilities, but Sun got the general idea.

          It takes a few crates, but you open the right one and get out the parts Sun said he wanted for the Rebreather. As you climb down with the goods, you see Sun hastily putting something into his inner jacket pockets before slamming the crate lid back onto the crate. Then he quickly turns to you, looking nervous.

          You raise an eyebrow at the man. You think very highly of your Captains at this point. So, you don’t think that whatever secrets that Sun’s trying to keep from you is malicious in any way, and you don’t question him. You just give him a look that you hope reads as, you’re terrible at being sneaky.

          Sun gives you a nervous smile in return as the flower petal-like sunrays around his head are pinned to his head, then he asked, “Got it all?”

          “I sure do. Don’t forget our lanterns,” you reminded him.

          “Of course,” Sun said as he grabbed them and followed you out, “Honestly, I’m sure we don’t need these, with a smile as bright as yours.”

          You snort at that.

          “What, don’t you believe me?”

          You roll your eyes heavily since your back is to him, and you said, “No. No. I believe you. I just laugh when I get complements.”

          “Well, you have a sweet sounding laugh and I could listen to you talk all day if you’d let me.”

          “Uh-hu.”

          “And your singing voice. It’s ethereal and lovely.”

           You snort at that.

           Sun kept laying on the complements, like a child covering a cake in three layers of frosting, as the two of you walked up to the deck.

           You sneezed from the sun shining in your face and you said, “Okay. Okay, Captain. I’m drowning in complements and I’m not a good swimmer.”

           You look over your shoulder at Sun’s silence.

           The lanterns were put away and he has a hand on his round chin as a smile was slowly stretching over his face. A twinkle of mischief was shining in his sky-blue eyes.

           “What was that saying you’ve used before,” he thought for a moment, then he bent down so he was eye level with you, “Get good, scrub. Cause, I ain’t stoppin’.”

           You snort so loud you sound like Orville when she sneezes. You’re wheezing, you’re laughing so hard. That phrase sounds so foreign coming out of him, you couldn’t help but cackle as you walk over to the diving team by the Rebreather.

           Sun was walking to his cabin as he looked too smug for saying something so silly.

           You were still laughing as you placed the extra parts by Happy Frog as he was giving the rebreather a once over.

           “What’s got you all giggles and smiles,” Monty asked, “Not that I’m complaining.”

           Through your laughter you see that Monty isn’t in the rebreather suit and you stop laughing to say, “You’re not going under?”

           “Nope,” you hear Freddy say. You turn to follow his voice as he walked around the Rebreather and gets behind you, “I’ll be going down this time.”

           You grimace at the thought. You don’t like seeing anyone going into the depths of the ocean, but you were at least used to the idea of Monty being down below. This was your mentor and one of your best friends. You really hate the idea of him being by himself on the ocean floor.

           Freddy smiles at you and pats your head affectionately.

           “Come on now. The process is perfectly safe,” the orange/brown bear reassured you.

           “Mmmmmmm,” you grimace.

           “Will it make you feel better if you hold onto my lifeline?”

           “Not really, but it’ll be something,” you state as you stuff your hands into you coat pockets and smooth your fingers over the sandstone carving with your right hand.

           You helped the diving team prep the crane and you watch Happy as he gave Freddy’s suite one last look over. One of the crewmembers that you don’t know the name of, a wolf, was on the elliptical bike that pumps air into the suits and was pedaling at a strong but steady pace.

           Freddy got hooked up and then he hopped onto the stone tablet. Monty and Chip raised him and the tablet into the air and moved it over the side of the ship. You held onto the lifeline dutifully as you watched him sink below the waves.

           Before Freddy fully disappeared below the waves, he gave you a short wave with the pickaxe in his left hand. You wiggled your right hand’s fingers at him in a nervous wave.

           In an attempt to calm your nerves, you sang Abba’s Dancing Queen to yourself.

           You had repeated the song four times before you felt Monty slap you on the back.

           “Relax, Cher, he’s fine.”

           “I won’t relax until the job’s done,” you state stubbornly.

           You felt the rope in your hands being pulled and you tell Monty it’s time to bring up the load.

           Chip and Monty huffed and puffed as they struggled against the weight of the sea glass and the resistance of the water on it. When it broke the water’s surface, your eyes sparkled at the sight. It was so shinny! They even had a rainbow-hologram like affect to them. The little magpie part of your brain wanted to steal and horde the rocks, but you resisted.

           You watched Monty, Chip, and other crew members unload the platform and then take the supplies below deck. Then Monty and Chip got to work on lowering the platform back into the water.

          Later, Bonnie came over to relieve the wolf of bike duty when the third load of sea glass was raised and then unloaded. You were looking out to ocean when you noticed a little dot in the distance.

          “Hey, Happy?”

          The light-green frog man walked over to you, “Yah, Tiny?”

          You side eye the frog. He’s literally only once inch taller than you.

          “Is that a ship I see?”

          You point with your face as you don’t take your eyes off the dot.

          Out of the corner of your eye, you see Happy pull out a spy glass from his pants.

          “It is. And they’re waving flags for trade,” Happy said, then he yelled over his shoulder, “What do you think, Bonnie? We want to trade with anyone?”

          “We could use more rope,” Bonnie stated as he huffed and puffed from the bike.

          Happy grabbed the rope from your hands, “Will you go tell the Captains about this.”

          You nod and run to the captain’s cabin. You knock on the closed door.

          “Who is it?”

          You say your name but before you could say anything else you get spooked by a loud bang and a string of curses.

          You stand uncertainly outside their door until Moon opens it. He held the door close to him like he was hiding the inside of the cabin for some reason.

          “What can we do for you Starlight?”

          “We spotted a ship in the distance waving trade flags. Bonnie says we could use more rope, do we need to wave some flags too or what?”

           “Oh! Mmm…What other flags were up?”

           You shrug.

           Moon walks out and closes the door behind him as you back up and start to follow him.

           “Where did you see the ship?”

           You tell him and lead him over to the diving team. Once the two of you were standing by the railing with Happy, Moon got out his personal spy glass and looked at the boat.

           “Oh! It’s one of Eclipse’s boats! We’ve traded with her crews before. She’s also a stickman captain,” Moon added with a small smile.

           You smile at Moon’s restrained excitement.

           “Someone go tell Chika to fire the cannons to get their attention. I’ll go get the flags.”

           “I’ll tell her,” you say as you dash away.

           After telling Chick about the trade, you had time to hide. Your hiding spot in the captain’s cabin was a no go it seems for the time being, and it’s too hot to stake it out in the crow’s nest, so you go to the crew’s quarters and hide under Chika’s bed. Honestly one of the best places to hide inconspicuously. Who’s going to go around the ship looking under beds?

           Thirty minutes later, after you’ve hidden yourself, you hear the bang, bang, bang of the cannons going off and you settle in to take a nap.

# # #

           Sun got excited when Moon told him that one of Eclipse’s ships will be coming up for trade.

           Sun hopes that this ship will have Eclipse on it and not one of her old first mates. If it’s Eclipse, Sun was tempted to convince Moon to introduce you to her. With your permission of course.

           If not, then at the very least he’ll get some extra little shinnies to add to the necklace he and Moon are making for you.

           As per protocol, Freddy was called up to stop mining for safety’s sake as the Dying Light got close enough to send out rowboats.

           Sun used his personal spy glass to look out to the ship and the little rowboats. He saw a blue bunny was on one of the rowboats. Her ears were hidden by her captain’s hat. A black wolf and a brown fox rowed her over, as she waved at the crew of the Crusty Waters.

           Sun sighed, “Awe, It’s Bon Abell.”

           “Well, don’t look too disappointed,” Moon teased.

           Sun put away his spy glass, “Wh-I’m not-Of course I’m happy to see Bon Abell,” then in a pouty voice Sun added, “It’s just we haven’t seen Eclipse in a while, and I wanted to tell her about Starlight.”

           “I don’t think that’s wise,” Moon stated with a comforting pat on his partner’s shoulder.

           Sun sighed, exasperated, “I know. I know.”

           “Want me to start welcoming them aboard, Captains,” Freddy asked from his seat by the Rebreather.

           “No, you relax,” Moon stated, “You need to recover from your time under water. Orville!”

           She trumpeted from the other side of the deck; she was in the middle of mopping.

           “Start the Welcome!”

           “Right away, Captain Moon,” she said gleefully as she dropped her mop and started running to do the job.

           Rope ladders were thrown overboard. More rope was used to tie the trade goods and to then be lifted on board. Then rowboats were tied into place against the ship.

           The crew boarded from the rowboats, with their weapons at their hips. It’s not such a strange sight to see as the crew of the Crusty Waters were also armed, and the two crews started to converse and gossip.

           The blue bunny, Bon Abell, was beaming at the sight of Moon and Sun, in very much the same fashion a parent who hasn’t seen their kids in a long time would do.

           “Oh, look at you two,” she said with a soft gravelly voice, “You two haven’t changed a bit!”

           She grabbed Moon and Sun’s hands.

           Sun and Moon squeezed her furry paws.

           “We age differently, Bon Abell,” Sun reminded her, playfully, “Is your memory going in your old age.”

           “Oh, hush, you! Let an old bunny admire her old charges.”

           “Even in your old age, you’re as beautiful as ever,” Moon stated.

           “Oh, Moon, my silly boy. You always have such a way with words,” the blue bunny let go of their hands to cup Moon’s face. Moon bent down to allow her this. Sun watched on in amusement.

           “How are you two doing? Are you staying healthy? How much trouble have you two been getting up too?”

           Sun and Moon side eyed each other, then Sun said, “The normal amount of trouble.”

           Bon Abell chuckled as she let go of Moon’s face then went to hug Sun, “That’s good to hear. Have either of you seen Eclipse lately?”

           “No. It’s been a while,” Moon stated.

           “I see, that’s too bad,” Bon Abell said as she patted Sun’s back to end the hug, “Let’s get to work then, shall we?”

           Sun and Moon asked how the Dying Light 2 was doing and how she and her crew were fairing. They asked what she’s seen and what she’s been doing and what she’s learned. She answered their questions and asked the same of them as they went over what they wanted to trade.

           The two captains got their extra rope, and dried fruit, and soap, in exchange for their extra dye, dried fish, and small shards of the sea glass they have mined so far. Moon and Sun even saw Bon Abell’s personal collection of seashells, and they paid using their quartzers for those. They wanted to add them to the necklace they were making for you.

           Bon Abell and her crew were taking their time reloading everything back onto their rowboats, but Sun and Moon didn’t mind. This was their old friend and second closest thing to a mother figure they had, not counting Eclipse. Any time spent with Bon Abell is a good time.

            The blue bunny was talking about her adventures and Moon and Sun were nodding along, happy to listen to her, until she brought up something they were hoping wouldn’t be brought up.

           “Have you heard about the rumors of the new creature?”

           “New creature,” Moon asked hesitantly as he and Sun shared a look.

           “Aye. The legendary beings that, by Zulon’s “grace”, are brought to our world and destroys everything? I heard we have a new legend in our waters. Makes you wonder what kind of monsters we’ll have to face with this new creature huh?”

           “Not all of Zulon’s creatures bring destruction,” Sun timidly added.

           “Hmm. Could have fooled me. I swear, Zulon’s only out to end us all,” Bon Abell stated.

           Sun saw Moon frown heavily at that.

           “What’s changed your mind?”

           Bon Abell turned to Moon, slightly confused, “Hmm?”

           “You’re the one who made me think of Zulon as a lonely creature with your stories, why do you think our planet and god is out to get us?”

           Bon Abell sighed sadly, “Oh, my silly boy… Life has a way of wearing you down, like winds on a sail. I don’t believe in Zulon’s innate kindness anymore.”

           Sun and Moon looked at their old friend and Mother figure with a heart wrenching look.

           Bon Abell patted Sun’s forearm, then said, “Don’t worry so much about me. I’m working on making things better.”

           An unfamiliar voice shouted over the casual chatter of the two crews, and he said, “I found it!”

           A brown fox was holding up your unconscious form for all to see.

           Sun and Moon were frozen at the sight. Then all around them they heard the sound of pistoles being loaded and they looked to see that the Dying Light 2’s crew had their weapon’s drawn and pointed at them and their crew.

           Sun and Moon turned to Bon Abell, and she had a pistol trained on each of them.

           She met Moon and Sun’s shocked looks with a soft motherly smile.

           “Now boys, I thought you were in only the “normal” amount of trouble.”

           Sun looked to Moon as Moon asked, “Bon Abell. What’s going on? Why are you doing this?”

           “Well, I’m going to give that thing to the Agony Cult, and then it’ll do its evil little thing, and hopefully I’ll be able to kill two fish in one barrel.”

           “You’re in the Agony Cult,” Sun shouted in disbelief, “You hate the Agony Cult!”

           “I’m not in the cult, and I promise I still do hate them, Sunny, but there are a few things that I happen to agree on, with them,” she sighed, “For now, if I pretend to work with them, they’ll destroy themselves from the inside out when I give them the creature.”

           “You and Eclipse wanted nothing to do with them! What would Eclipse think,” Moon asked.

           “I think that they have no say in the matter, since they’re dead.”

           Sun was reeling from that. What does she mean Eclipse is dead?

           “No she’s not,” Moon disagreed vehemently.

           “Yes, she is. I killed her myself.”

           “No!”

           “I’m sorry, Sunny, but it’s true.”

           “If it was true, then you wouldn’t have asked if we’ve seen her! You know she’s too stubborn to die,” Moon spat as he stomped closer to Bon Abell.

           Bon Abell cocked the hammer to her pistol and aimed it at his soft chest. Moon halted in his angry stride.

           “Don’t make me kill you two. You’re just as much family to me as Eclipse was. I honestly had hoped she would have joined me instead of fighting me on this.”

           “Please don’t do this Bon Abell,” Sun pleaded, “We can talk this out. Don’t take them away from us.”

           Sun watched Bon Abell’s aged face scrunch up in concern.

           “Does the monster have you under its spell, Sunny?”

           “They’re not a monster!” Moon growled.

           “They’re our friend, and a valued part of our crew,” Sun stated.

           Bon Abell shook her furry blue head at them in concern, then she yelled, “Brutus, bring it over here! And nobody make a move, or we will shoot!”

           The brown fox walked through the crowd with your unconscious body dangling from his one arm. Sun didn’t know if they hurt you to make you unconscious or if they found your hiding spot and you were asleep. Neither prospect was good since you’re such a deep sleeper.

           The brown fox stood before Bon Abell. She holstered one pistol and then she lifted your head by your hair. Your face was relaxed, and your mouth was slightly open. You were dusty, Sun could tell by the line your drool was making down the side of your cheek.

           “This flabby, almost furless, creature is only using you two and your crew. It’s biding its time until it can unleash its horrors to our already ravished world…” she trails off as she lets your head drop as she touches the star-spangled jacket you’re wearing.

           “They’re not like that,” Sun defended you, “You don’t even know them.”

           “And do you know them? Truly,” Bon Abell asked, a stern look on her face.

           “Better than you do,” Moon stated.

           “I made that jacket for you,” the blue bunny changed the subject, “I can’t believe how much it has you two around its little fingers.”

           “Please. Bon Abell, please. Just talk to them. They’re a good person,” Sun pleaded, not wanting to fight her but also not wanting to lose you.

           “These things never bring anything good!”

           She roughly grabbed you by your round ears to lift your head. You spasmed in the brown fox’s grip and your eyes flew open.

           Bon Abell jumped back at your awareness.

          You threw your legs up and over the brown fox’s shoulder and hooked your ankles around his neck. Then using your body like a spring, you slipped out of the brown fox’s hold around your waist and front flipped to your feet. Toppling the fox overboard in the process.

           You then flung yourself at the bunny as you wrestled to get the other pistol out of her grip. A shot rang out in the air as the two of you fought on the ground. Seconds later, the whole ship was fighting. Shots were being fired, and swords were clashing as people yelled battle cries over each other.

           Sun and Moon moved to help you, but they were immediately distracted by a chicken and a wolf coming at them with swords. The two captains immediately drew their own swords and defended themselves.

# # #

           You had no idea what was going on but the danger you felt was real and instinct kicked in. The blue bunny holding a gun out at Sun and Moon was a threat you had to end. Granted, not your smartest move, but suddenly being awake doesn’t make the brain work all that well.

           You’re on top of the blue bunny. In your panic you can only assume that they were here for you, and you had to get them off your ship. Your first step being, getting rid of their weapon.

           The bunny is stronger than you and she manages to knock you off her by headbutting you in the nose.

           You see stars as you fall on your ass.

           You look up to see she’s getting back on her feet and is about to train her pistol at you, but you’re close enough that you can kick her legs out from under her feet.

           She falls heavily on her stomach, her head bouncing off the railing before hitting the deck.

           The pistol falls out of her grip, and you grab it and throw it overboard.

           You could have kept that… Damn it, bad instincts.

           You look back down at the blue bunny and she’s pulling out another pistol.

           Panicked again, you hop onto her back and grab her pistol holding hand with both of yours, trying to slam it out of her hands to get rid of it.

           The blue bunny’s other hand was reaching around for you, clawing at your leg, stomach, back, and thighs as she tried to get you off her.

           She scrambled to her feet, and you wrapped your legs tightly around her waist as you held on to her pistol holding arm, working on forcing her fingers off the weapon one finger at a time.

           With a hop, the blue bunny fell hard on her back, on to you, crushing the air out of your body, but you still held on tight even if your attempts to grab her pistol had slowed.

           As she was getting back up onto her feet again, still clawing at you and twisting to get you off her, you continued to hold on tightly with your legs and hands.

           She fell on her back once more. Then she ran backwards until she slammed you against one of the masts. Still, you persisted. Never letting go. You know what it feels like to be in pain and to have the breath knocked out of you. You’ll get your breath back, just focus on the task at hand.

           The blue bunny was doing more damage to you the longer you were on her. So instead of forcing the gun out of her hand, you changed tactics.

           Making sure the gun was aimed for the air, you wrapped your finger around her furry finger, and the trigger, and pulled it seven times. You spin the barrel after each pull of the trigger, and you made sure that it was empty.

           The blue bunny pinned you against the mast as she started elbowing you in the ribs.

           You let go of her arm to then grip her ears and you pulled. A pained scream filled your ears as she hit you harder in the ribs.

           With her chin up you wrap your arms around her neck and squeeze with all your might, and for extra measure you squeeze your legs around her waist just as hard.

           Her claws dug into your forearms as she scrambled to get you off her.

           You could feel her trying to force her chin under your grip to try and bite you, her buck teeth grazing dangerously close to your skin, as she ripped at the flesh of your arms with her claws.

           You don’t let go.

           She falls backwards and lands heavily on you again.

           You don’t let go.

           She manages to get your left forearm into her mouth, her bucked teeth pierce through your flesh, but you shove your arm farther into her mouth and you tighten your right arm’s grip around her neck.

           You don’t let go.

           You feel her starting to slow down.

           Still, you don’t let go.

           Then you’re seeing stars. You feel the weight of your opponent leave you and you scramble back to get away. Your head aching and ears ringing with the sound of fighting around you, you look back to see a black wolf with a sword in hand, helping up the blue bunny. She was red with your blood, making her dyed blue fur look almost purple.

           “Look out!”

           You look towards who was shouting at you and you manage to dodge a swing from a sword as a toad has started to try to impale you.

           “The cult never said you had to be alive,” she croaked.

           You trip and dodge away from the sword slashing toad.

           There was a blood thirstiness in the toad’s horizontal pupils as she chased you across the deck as you two dodged other fighters. It was like the idea of you dying by her sword excited her.

           You trip over a pile of rope as she swings down her sword at you.

           You lean into the fall, and you do a backwards somersault, and you grab some rope as you get back onto your feet. For a few merciful seconds, the toad’s sword is stuck in the wood of the deck.

           With the rope in hand, you charge forward and wrap the rope around their feet. Making them fall to their stomach and on their face.

           Now you’ve only seen this in movies, but you hog tied the toad to the best of your abilities, using the bowline knot you learned from Freddy. Then you left them squirming on the deck as you wrenched their sword out of the deck. You gripped the handle of the sword between your teeth, and you climbed up the nearest jacob’s ladder.

           Once you were on one of the lowest booms, you looked out across the deck.

           You saw Chika and Roxy, back-to-back near the entrance to the lower levels of the ship. Chika had a pistol in each hand shooting down people from halfway across the deck and Roxy had a dagger in each hand with blood on them and on her jaws as she attacked anyone that got too close.

           At the stern of ship, you saw Pigpatch and Monty, hold out in a shootout, with a white bunny and a gray elephant. The two of them seemed to be holding their ground as they hid behind the barrels of left-over beer from the slumber party. They looked like they were having fun.

           You saw Foxy fighting with a yellow chicken in a very heated sword fight. You thought Freddy was good with a sword but watching Foxy move was like watching a ballet recital. Him and the chicken were extremely focused on each other, and no one bothered to try and interrupt them by taking a shot at either party. Probably an unspoken politeness rule or something.

           At the beak head of the ship, you saw Sun was fighting with Freddy. Sun was using his pistol and Freddy was using his sword. Sun would shoot the targets that were farther away, and Freddy was push back and stab anyone else that got close.

           In the middle of the deck was Chip, Bonnie, Mr. Hippo, Happy Frog, Orville Elephant, and everyone else as they were fighting the main bulk of the invaders.

           You noticed that someone was missing. You look desperately across the crowd. Then over at the bow spirit, the pointer of the ship, you see that five invaders have cornered Captain Moon and they were slowly pushing him up the bow spirit. They were fighting him and trying to trip him up, so he’ll fall into the water.

           You scramble to the highest, and closest point on the mast. Then you find a nice, long, sturdy rope and you cut it. You make sure the other end of it is secure and you take a moment to steel your nerves.

           Breathing through your nose with the sword still in your mouth, you talk out loud.

           “I don’t know if you can hear me, Zulon, but if you can, or I’m just going crazy, let me help my friends. Some kind of divine intervention would be great cause I don’t know what I’m doing!”

           With that you do a running start, and you fling yourself off the highest point of the boom on the mast. You’re free falling, then the rope snaps with tension as you slide a bit down the rope, giving your hands rope burn. You swing at an ark and you’re heading towards the crowd that has Moon cornered.

           “Head’s up!”

           The five intruders and Moon turned to you.

           You reach out a hand towards Moon.

           He grabs onto you and falls with the swing of the rope as the two of you make your temporary escape away from the onslaught.

           You laugh manically through the sword in your mouth.

           “I can’t believe that worked!”

           “Pay attention!”

           The two of you make a rough landing on the roof of the captain’s cabin.

           You spit the sword out of your mouth, and you immediately start rambling, “Captain! I’m so sorry this happened! I should have found a better hiding spot! How do we know we’ve won or when the battle has ended? I’ve never had to do this before!”

           “You’re bleeding,” he said as he made to tear off his shirt sleeve.

           You put your bloody hand on his hand, “Not now! Moon! Please! What do we got to do?”

           Moon looked solemnly to the ground as he tried to speak, lost his words for a second, then said, “We’ve got to kill the captain.”

           “Okay, well, is there another option? I’d rather not kill anyone.”

           “They’re killing our people or at the very least they’re trying to. We have to kill her. She’s giving us no other option.”

           Shots rang out and you feel a searing heat in your right side. You grip yourself and look down to find that you’re now bleeding through your star-spangled jacket in your kidney area. God, you hope you’re not actually shot in your kidneys, going pee will suck in the future if that’s the case.

           The two of you turn to see the blue bunny that you were tangled with before, aiming her gun directly at you. Your blood still staining her front. She’s not shooting more at you or at Moon even though she could. In fact, she’s looking directly at Moon, like she expects him to do something about it.

           “Okay, you’re right. She’s not giving us a choice,” you said through gritted teeth as you staggered to stay on your feet.

           You feel Moon’s strong grip on your shoulder.

           “Stay here.”

           “What about—”

           “That’s an order,” he said as he took your sword from you.

           Now with a sword in each hand, you watched him run off after the blue bunny as she stood her ground against Moon and as she drew her own sword.

           You can tell by Moon’s stance that he doesn’t want to do this. You feel like there’s a history here that your missing, but it’s too chaotic to do anything about it.

           You crouch at the edge of the captain’s cabin’s roof as you press your left hand to your bleeding side. You stay ready to jump, just in case you find an opportunity to help.

           The blue bunny had her sword pointed straight at Moon’s chest as Moon had one sword pointed to the ground and the other pointed at the bunny woman’s chest. The two swords’ men started circling each other on the deck.

           “See what happens when other worldly creatures come to our world. They always make a mess.”

           “You don’t get to blame Starlight for this, Bon Abell.”

           The blue bunny scoffed, “You’ve given it a Stickmen name? I thought I taught you better than to give names to pets that you can’t take care of!”

           The two of them clashed. If it was nighttime, you’re sure you would see sparks.

           As you watched them fight, you got the sneaking suspicion that they’ve fought before, but never like this. You kept your eyes glued to the sight before you, hoping that your crewmates had your back if they saw anyone trying to take aim at you.

           As you watched them twirl and slash at each other, in the beginning, you thought that with Moon having two swords, he’d be at an advantage, but the longer you watched, the more you realized that Moon needed the two swords to be on even ground with the bunny woman.

           The blue bunny moved with a calm swiftness that contrasted against Moon’s more nervous and slightly sloppy movement. Moon kept attacking her, as neither gave up ground, but it was obvious that the blue bunny was playing with Moon.

           “Oh, my silly boy, have you not been practicing your sword fighting like you should,” the blue bunny asked like a disappointed mother.

           It made your skin crawl hearing her talk like that to Moon, or maybe you were becoming cold from blood loss.

           “Shut up!”

           Moon slashed at her. She parried with ease and counter attacked. She looked like she was putting more force into her swings, pushing Moon backwards.

           You nervously shoved your free hand into your jacket pocket, and you felt the sandstone carving in your pocket. You smoothed your fingers over the carving of the Zulon’s heart nervously.

           A realization struck you as you look down at yourself and you pulled out the stone carving. You could throw this at her as a distraction.

           You hear a clang.

           You look back up. In that short amount of time when you weren’t looking, the blue bunny had managed to get Moon sprawled on his back with her sword to his chest.

           Moon still had a sword in his hand, but all the bunny woman had to do, to kill your captain, was push forward in one swift motion.

           Well, not on your watch.

# # #

           Tears pricked at the corners of Moon’s eyes as he looked up at his old mentor and mother figure. Him and Sun never thought this could happen, that someone that they thought was family would turn around and hurt them.

           “I’m sorry things had to turn out like this,” Bon Abell said, a genuine look of hurt on her face, “I’ll make this quick. Thank you for one last game.”

           There was a sickening smack of stone hitting bone. A round disk fell next to Moon’s shoulder and broke. Disorienting the bunny woman.

Moon took his chance.

           The lunar being smacked aside Bon Abell’s sword than he pushed his own up and into her heart.

           Moon held onto her. Embracing her for one last time, pretending for just a moment that this was a warm and welcoming moment.

           Everything was still as he slowly lowered her to the ground, pulling the sword from her chest.

           Moon looked up and around as he saw everyone looking at the two of them.

           Moon looked back down at his old mentor and closed her empty eyes.

           Standing back up he said, “Get off my ship. And take your dead captain with you.”

           A black wolf walks up and lifts Bon Abell’s corpse. Then one person after the other, the crew of the Dying Light 2 boarded their rowboats and went back to their ship.

           The crew of the Crusty Waters opened their sails and moved away from the Dying Light 2. Moon watched as Bon Abell’s ship got smaller in the horizon until it disappeared. Moon jumped a little when he felt Sun’s grip on his shoulder. The lunar themed stickman let his gaze linger a bit longer on the horizon before allowing his partner to turn him.

           Sun was already crying.

           The sight made Moon’s floodgates open.

           The two stickmen embrace each other as they mourn their loss.

[samiholloway]

You flex your hands and the joints click a little, all of them. You never quite realized just how many joints are in your hands before, how perfectly shaped all the little bones have to be to work so well together. It's freaky, being so /aware/, and you're starting to freak out, but you're also still paying attention to your hands and the signals telling you everything is exactly, perfectly the way it's supposed to be. Still paying attention to the doctor saying, "There was an accident. You were hurt. Too badly to heal, for sure, too badly to save, really, but you were here thankfully and we were able to do this for you."

"What did you do?"

The voice in your head is still yours; the voice that comes out is not yours at all. That voice is calm, pleasant, absolutely even, perfectly androgynous, and comes with more signals telling your about vibrating membranes and speakers and volume and resonance.

He looks uncertain.

You say it again, louder. "What did you do?"

"You're still you," he answers, not the question you asked. "You'll see."

---

You are still you, after a fashion. You like the same things, dislike the same things, have the same memories. But you don't eat now, even though you technically can if your energy cells are running low. If you do, you don't taste things the same way, just analyze the chemicals for the conversion to emergency power, so what's the point? You could eat rocks and it would be as appealing.

You miss coffee in the morning, and tea at night, and chocolate cake.

This body is yours now, they assure you of that. You live in it, these are your hands, your feet, your face that's just as mobile and expressive as your first one. But the features weren't modeled after anyone in particular, and certainly not you in specific, and even though the expressions are all you, you don't think the face in the mirror looks much like you, though you're getting used to it. (It was hard, at first, a gaping void between /you/ and /your reflection/, a gut-deep sense of wrongness that made you avoid mirrors for weeks. You don't need the bathroom much anymore anyway. Who needs a reflection?)

You worry they'll repossess your body. You worry there's a secret clause you don't know about. You aren't paying for it, they haven't asked for anything in return other than updates and periodic visits for monitoring and recalibration or repairs or upgrades as they improve the technology -- you're the first success and they're learning a lot from you -- but what if you do something with it that they don't like? They say it's yours but you didn't choose it and it doesn't feel like you and doesn't feel like it fits right, so what if you start changing it to make the fit better?

The longer this goes on, this strange new life, the more you think about this. Where is the line where it stops being your body and goes back to being their property? You ask yourself every time you paint a new section of your chassis, ask again as you start experimenting with casing materials.

---

You don't age now, not really. The doctor you woke up to retires, and his successor is the lab assistant who knows your workings inside and out. You're not the only one now, but you're still the first.

"How long do you think I'll last?"

"Oh, probably as long as you want to," she says. "We could just keep replacing parts indefinitely, I think." She has an arm almost like yours to fix a problem she was born with. Both her hands work the same way, as smoothly as if they were both flesh.

"Am I still me?"

"Do you feel like you are?"

You think about it as she fits a new joint into your leg; the old one gave out after ten years of long hikes to see the world. This one is a shiny new gold, so it'll shine through the filligree of the leg around it, all the lights and wires tracing the curves like art.

"I think I'm more me than I ever have been."

“You must be confused, and that’s understandable. Allow me to explain,” says the doctor as you wake up in your new robotic body.

[alinedreams]

Listen, I dunno about y'all, but I'm tired of trying to survive only to always serve as a chew toy to grown-up school bullies, you know?

Because, at this point, it's clear they don't want us to die: it wouldn't be so fun to them if we died because then they'd lose their favorite chew toys and the very reason they do all they do.

It's clear that they want us to survive and be tortured indefinitely, to keep being their platforms, the children of their own version of Omelas. If we die, they'll lose platform, they'll lose all they built their very solid beliefs on and will have to face the fact they're empty husks who dedicated their lives to make ours living Hell. And they'd never do it. They'd never want to recognize themselves as the bad guys in the mirror. They need us alive and kicking so they can keep seeing themselves as heroes instead of the pathetic overgrown tough meanies they truly are.

And I'm frankly done with that. Done with being their chew toy, and with fellow chew toys telling me to survive, as if we'll ever stop being a numeric minority or chewed on or having those among us who want to be chew toys with pointy teeth to also chew on other toys... It's disheartening and hopeless overall.

"Well, we can just move to somewhere else!" No, we can't! The deal is, moving away from Omelas won't hide the fact there's still a weird and queer child being abused in the basement. When you leave Omelas, you discover everywhere else has their queer and weird children being tortured in their basements, and that, most of the time, those Omelases are still terrible places on the surface and toeturing those kids don't bring any improvement at all, but they still do it just out of cruelty, despite the fact they also do inflict it upon each other because torturing some different child just isn't cutting it anymore. And, of course, they blame each other for their own Omelas' suckage, but never examine within themselves as well.

There's no place to escape and no reason to survive, but if you want to keep going because there's hot cocoa and puppies and kittens, that's okay. That's probably how they keep the disabled child from simply eating her own excrement and killing herself in the original Omelas, after all;; by throwing her a little bone every now and then and saying everything is for her own good and the greater good and she's a bad and ungrateful child for complaining. Throwing that bone and gaslighting that kid is probably how they prolong that child's life for as long as possible, until they "suddenly perish from their own queerness".

And boy, how I wish I suddenly perished from my own queerness, but I've learned in life it never works this way. They always make sure to make us quite durable chew toys, just in the off case we might end up going extinct and taking their only reason to live and feel better about themselves with us.

They don't want us to die. They want to make us suffer forever and ever and ever because that's how it's supposed to work, that's how they have their kicks and find a reason to stay alive. They hate us because they refuse to hate themselves and recognize they, too, are flawed.

Neverending cruelty and sadism are the entire point.

And frankly... I'm done with it. Done with fighting a losing fight and surviving only for it to never truly get better.

No amount of hot cocoa and puppies and kittens is being enough to me anymore. Tome, those bastards need to perish like the viruses they are.

Too bad they're the vast, overwhelming and undeniable majority.

Well, don't count on me on actively trying to survive or prolong my life. I won't actively kill myself, either, for that would just be entirely pointless and bound to fail anyway, but I'll let Nature take its course if my health worsens. If I'm a goner, I'm a goner. Y'know... Natural selection, or some similar sorta nonsense.

[dngdentalclinic]

The Smile Revolution Dental Implants Transform Your Oral Health

In a world where first impressions matter, a confident smile is your best asset. If you're tired of hiding your smile due to missing teeth, dental implant in Jaipur could be the solution you've been waiting for. This procedure is not just about aesthetics; it's an investment in your long-term dental health. But what exactly are dental implants, and who stands to benefit from them?

Dental implants are artificial tooth roots made of titanium that provide a permanent base for fixed or removable replacement teeth. Unlike dentures, which can slip and cause discomfort, implants fuse with your jawbone, offering a stable and natural feel. They're a great option for anyone missing one or more teeth and looking for a long-term solution.

Benefits of Dental Implants

One of the most appealing aspects of dental implants is the way they improve your appearance. They look and feel like your own teeth, which boosts self-esteem and confidence. Another perk? They enhance your ability to speak clearly. Unlike ill-fitting dentures, implants won't slip, freeing you from mumbling or slurred speech.

Comfort and convenience are other major advantages. Because they're permanent, you won't have to worry about removing and cleaning them every night. They essentially become a part of you, making eating, talking, and laughing more enjoyable experiences.

Dental implants also have significant long-term oral health benefits. They preserve your remaining teeth by alleviating the need to reduce neighboring teeth, as is often required by bridges. They keep your jawbone healthy and prevent bone loss over time—a common issue associated with missing teeth.

Understanding the Procedure

Before undergoing dental implant treatment, a comprehensive pre-surgical assessment is crucial. Your dentist will evaluate your oral health, check the density of your jawbone, and discuss your medical history. This step ensures that you're a suitable candidate for implants.

The implant placement process involves surgically inserting the titanium post into your jawbone. While the word "surgery" might sound intimidating, it's generally performed under local anesthesia, ensuring minimal discomfort.

After the surgery, a period of recovery allows your jawbone to grow around the implant, anchoring it securely in place. Post-treatment care includes regular follow-ups to monitor healing and ensure everything is progressing smoothly. Your dentist in Jaipur will also provide guidelines to maintain optimal oral hygiene during recovery.

Cost Considerations

While dental implants can seem expensive initially, it's essential to consider various cost factors. Geography, the complexity of your case, and the materials used all play a role in determining the price. However, their durability makes them a cost-effective option over time.

Many dental clinics offer financing options, allowing you to pay in installments. Insurance coverage for dental implants varies, so it's wise to consult with your dentist. Some plans may cover part of the cost under certain conditions.

Common Misconceptions about Dental Implants

A prevalent misconception about dental implants is the perceived pain associated with the procedure. In reality, many patients report that getting an implant is less painful than a tooth extraction, thanks to advanced technologies and anesthesia.

Some people believe age is a barrier to receiving dental implants, but this isn't necessarily true. While certain health conditions may affect eligibility, age alone is not a disqualifying factor.

Another myth is that dental implants are only suitable for those with perfect dental health. Even if you have some oral health issues, your dentist can create a treatment plan to prepare your mouth for implants.

Dental Implant in Jaipur

Choosing the right dental clinic in Jaipur is crucial for a successful outcome. It's essential to select a qualified and reputable dentist or oral surgeon. The best dentist in Jaipur will have the necessary experience and expertise to ensure a smooth procedure.

Look for a clinic that boasts positive reviews and a strong reputation. The best dental clinic in Jaipur will offer a welcoming environment, state-of-the-art technology, and a team committed to your comfort and care.

Ask questions during your initial consultation to gauge their approach and expertise. A confident provider will be happy to address any concerns and explain the treatment process thoroughly.

Conclusion

Dental implants offer numerous benefits, from improved appearance and comfort to better long-term oral health. If missing teeth have been holding you back, now is the time to explore your options. Scheduling a consultation is the first step in reclaiming your smile and confidence.Feel free to reach out to us for personalized advice and to learn more about the best dental implant in Jaipur. Our team is eager to guide you on this transformative journey. Contact us today to schedule your appointment and take the first step toward a brighter smile.

[alexbrownes]

Why More Older People are Now Seeking Orthodontic Treatments? And Options Available for Them

Gone are the days when braces and orthodontic treatments were reserved exclusively for the adolescent crowd. Today, a growing number of adults are choosing to rectify dental issues that have lingered since childhood or those that have developed over time. It's a powerful testament to the belief that it's never too late to improve one’s appearance, health, and self-esteem.

If you're considering taking the step towards a perfect smile but feel uncertain due to your age, this guide is for you. Here's everything you need to know about adult orthodontics and why it's never too late to achieve the smile you've always dreamed of by consulting with an experienced orthodontist in San Jose, or wherever you reside.

Breaking Down the Stigma

For a long time, there was a stigma associated with adults undergoing orthodontic treatment. Fortunately, that’s rapidly changing thanks to a plethora of discreet treatment options and a growing cultural acceptance of adult orthodontics. In fact, the American Association of Orthodontists states that one in four orthodontic patients is an adult, illustrating the increasing prevalence and acceptance of adult orthodontic treatment.

Why Consider Orthodontics as an Adult?

The reasons adults consider orthodontic treatment are varied. Some may seek to correct problems that were not adequately addressed during childhood or adolescent years, such as crowding, gaps, overbites, or underbites. Others might have experienced shifts in their teeth alignment due to aging, dental restorations, or the natural growth process. Then there are those who simply want to achieve a more aesthetically pleasing smile.

Beyond aesthetics, orthodontic treatment can also significantly improve oral health. Misaligned teeth can be difficult to clean, leading to an increased risk of gum disease and tooth decay. Correcting these misalignments can thus improve oral hygiene and overall dental health.

Understanding Your Options

One of the biggest advancements in adult orthodontics is the variety and sophistication of treatment options now available. Gone are the days of bulky, metal braces being the only choice. Here are some of the most popular options among adults today:

Clear Aligners: Brands like Invisalign offer a nearly invisible way to straighten teeth using custom-made, removable aligners. They are discreet and allow for easier eating and cleaning.

Ceramic Braces: These work like traditional metal braces but use tooth-colored or clear brackets (and sometimes wires) to blend in with the teeth, making them less noticeable.

Lingual Braces: Attached to the back of the teeth, lingual braces are completely hidden from view, offering a great cosmetic alternative for those concerned about their appearance during treatment.

Addressing Concerns and Expectations

Adult patients often come with different concerns than younger patients, including longer potential treatment times due to denser bone tissue, the health of the gums, and how orthodontics might fit into their professional and personal lives. It's essential to have an honest conversation with your orthodontist about these concerns. Most are easily manageable with the right approach and technology.

Moreover, having realistic expectations is crucial. Orthodontic treatment is a commitment and requires adherence to the orthodontist's instructions, including wearing aligners as prescribed, attending adjustment appointments, and maintaining excellent oral hygiene.

Preparing for Treatment

If you're considering orthodontics, the first step is to consult with a qualified orthodontist. They will evaluate your specific needs, discuss potential treatment options, and outline the expected timeline and cost. This consultation is also an excellent opportunity to address any concerns or questions you may have.

Conclusion:

It truly is never too late for a perfect smile. With the advancements in orthodontic technology and the increasing number of adults successfully completing treatments, the dream of having straight teeth and a beautiful, healthy smile is more achievable than ever before. Remember, the journey to a better smile begins with a single step: scheduling a consultation with a South Bay orthodontist to explore your options. Embrace the possibility – your future self will thank you for it.

[nelofairc]

the darkness that’s been heavily anchoring me down over the last month or more is starting to lift. it’s a curious transition-state, which gets even more curious with each revolution.

trauma recovery is not linear. there are times where (with the right supports, provided in the right ways, at the right times, where basic needs are also met outside of sessions) you can witness incredible leaps in your own progression. at other times it kind of plateaus, where things are kind of ticking along in slightly improved ways (typically where no other external pressures are being added in the background, so daily needs are manageable, just), without any particular leaps occurring but where life feels slightly more full… or at very least like it could get there one day (offering glimmering suggestions of HOPE!). and then there are times where you’re yanked back into old states of complete dishevelment, feeling as though you’d never even begun therapy (typically when external pressures have poked their sharp edges into anything you need as basic safety).

the experience of relapse is… harsh. the wise elder voice (which was painstakingly debrided over days/weeks/months/years of consistent effort after never knowing it existed) vanishes in the fog, replaced only by the inner demons who add this stumble to their legacy of evidenced cynicism. “see, it doesn’t work”. they tell you. “all that hope, all that effort, all that trust you placed in yourself and others… watch it shatter in your desperate clutching hands, feel its splinters puncture your flesh, witness your soul escaping your bones through its death of a thousand cuts”. every perceived bad thing you’ve ever done flashes before your eyes, crowding out anything good that has ever happened to you (or by you), and your world view shrinks down to a pinhole. no one is getting in, you are definitely not getting out, you’re lost and alone. again. and you DESERVE it. all the tools you’ve used before which gradually brought you back to some sense of humanness… no longer work. journalling, walking, being in nature, yoga, singing, helping others and receiving help in turn, eating good food, getting a decent amount of sleep… they all become locked behind an ancient oak door with blackened iron bars. your gaol, of your own making, because you are not worth more than this and never will be. any fragments of hope not just lost but ridiculed. it hurts.

you get similar cycles with addiction - which isn’t surprising, given that addiction generally has trauma at its roots. when i was first attempting to stop drinking alcohol in earnest around a decade ago, i set myself the challenge of a month without booze. i ended up so close to self harm, so isolated and ashamed, it was safer to just start drinking again. i’d justified my ‘dependency’ (as i then termed it) for decades, telling myself “if i don’t drink, i’ll die”. and i believed it. booze was a distraction from the reality of barely surviving. my home was precarious, i was unemployed (as someone who only knew themselves, their identity, as their career mask), i’d pushed everyone who might have tried to care away in my transactional core belief that i had nothing to offer them in return for their kindness, and i had no idea i was queer, nonbinary, neurodivergent, or traumatised. i’d pushed through burnout after burnout, convinced that if i could just stop drinking everything would be okay and my tendrils of life would return to ‘normal’. but how could it? and wtf was ‘normal’ anyway?! i was stealing my only coping mechanism without replacing its presence with anything more healthy or understanding why it existed in the first place, then sneering in disgust at myself when the removal of that ‘support’ sent me crashing to the ground.

years later, armed finally with a better understanding of who i really am, but still lacking vital basic needs, and finding myself in a situation where the few people i had spent a year trying to trust and rely on were only out to harm me… i fell into one of the worst relapses i’ve ever experienced. sitting on the side of a riverbank, so drunk i couldn’t move, soaked in my own piss and tears, on the anniversary of my undiagnosed emotionally abusive mother’s death… i finally realised that if i continued to drink i most certainly would die. that night was the first time i have ever reached out to a stranger during a moment of crisis (hell, i think it was the first time i’d reached out to anyone during crisis). barely able to speak, stunned at the fact i’d even kept this phone number never mind called it (i dislike phonecalls with a very ND defiance), i stuttered my way through sobs and pain. this unknown-to-me man validated me instead of criticising my life choices, held me in my desperation, and ‘walked’ me home safely (even when i got to the building and told him getting in the lift was likely to cut off the call… he told me to stay on the line until i was safely in my flat). what a human.

the next day i woke with a horrendous hangover, a whole world of shame, and a most curious surprise. that night i had heard a tiny, quiet voice inside which nudged me to make the phonecall, and the phonecall had saved my life. finally: evidence that somewhere deep inside was a part which didn’t want me to die. i chose that day to not have a drink - not with any kind of ambition that i would become sober, but that, for that one day, i would not touch alcohol. the next day, i made the same choice. and the next, and the next. it’s now over four and a half years later, and i am still sober. what i learned over the years before and during this is that a relapse is never a return to DayOne. it is always, always, DayOnePlus. DayOne, plus the learnings gathered from the last attempts at sobriety, or self care, or self worth, or connection. you learn from what worked and what didn’t work, you forgive yourself for being unable to cope with whatever caused the last crisis, and you Keep Fucking Trying.

it’s horrendous how society dismisses addicts, and equally horrendous how we blame and dismiss people as 100% bad/good according to how regulated their nervous systems are (or not). we tell boys and men the only appropriate emotional expression is STRENGTH and ASSERTIVENESS, humiliate them as pussies if they dare to reveal their caring (read: feminine, aka: horrorful) sides, then hold zero tolerance policies whenever their inner rage explodes out of them (where the fuck is it supposed to go?!). we tell girls and women to be subservient to the needs of others and to neglect themselves, dismiss their infrequent calls for help (whether medical supports, or economic inequality, or legal protections), and blame them for the unwanted attentions of men, while attributing all accountability around the men raised as monsters onto their mothers. we set men against women (despite the problem being a binary-obsessed, power-hungry patriarchy which harms all genders), rich against poor (despite capitalism being the root of all socioeconomic precarity), coloniser against colonised (ridiculing anyone who seeks a mutually supportive and inclusively equitable culture as ‘woke’)… and then we decry anger as the problem of the individual and not the systems which oppress us all.

anger isn’t bad, it’s a naturally occurring emotion which tells us something is wrong and we need to take action to change it. what is bad is hurting people with a violent expression of that anger, but shaming people about the rage which has built up from decades, generations, of unmet needs and unexpressed emotions is not the way to handle things.

my own anger has torn me apart inside, without anywhere more healthy to put it. i’ve self silenced, masked, isolated, self harmed, internalised and dissociated for decades, because the risk of further abandonment if anyone could see the horrors inside me are too much to bear… without realising that i’m abandoning myself in the process. when you’ve spent years begging for help and being denied it, then begging for financial support so you can afford to go private (and being multiply retraumatised throughout the process), and eight years later you finally start to see progress… and then another relapse swoops in and claims (with evidence) that anything you clawed back together was pure fantasy, a fiction, not for folk like you… it’s hard for that tiny quiet voice to get through the far more experienced self-destructive ones.

yesterday that tiny voice, my inner wise elder, came back. this morning it nodded to me again. my work now is to keep listening, keep feeding my soul, keep seeking those glimmers of hope, and above all: keep doing the fucking work.